“That is not funny.” Ooljee’s sense of humor had been strained by the disappearance of Yistin Gaggii. Though no one could have foreseen the hatathli’s escape, the sergeant still took it personally. As time passed without word of their quarry’s whereabouts, he had grown irritable and snappish.
The rumors circulating around the station didn’t stop until they ran a demonstration for the department’s upper echelon and a couple of government specialists. As soon as it was over and the initial shock had begun to fade, everyone was sworn to absolute secrecy under pain of penalties too numerous to mention, and all records pertaining to the discovery were sealed as if they were the lost jewels of King Solomon, before being carted off in a military molly by a team from the National Security Institute. Given the number of people Moody and Ooljee had talked to already, it was probably too late to satisfy Security, but the government representatives insisted on following procedure.
In fact, the only reason they hadn’t used the web right away to locate Gaggii a second time was the reluctance on the part of their superiors to allow them to do so. That was
Security for you. They had been compelled to demonstrate the existence of the web in order to prove its dangerous potential, and now that they’d done so they were forbidden to use it to try and prevent its possible misuse.
The longer the authorities bickered, the more time Gaggii gained to perfect his technique. Ooljee and Moody pointed out that it was vital they find him as quickly as possible, by whatever means necessary. They yelled and screamed, until finally it was allowed that they might be right. Reported sightings of their quarry had all proven false. There was no sign of him anywhere. It was as if he’d dropped off the face of the Earth.
Even if that turned out to be the case, Moody and Ooljee argued, they could still locate him using the web. As more time passed, even the people from Washington began to grow nervous. Permission was finally granted to the two officers to utilize the device they had discovered.
So it was that they found themselves admitted to a quiet, sealed room on the first sublevel of police headquarters. Stores had issued them a brand-new five-by-five zenat, a lull-sized Plessevetti desk spinner, and a request to please try not to overwhelm the entire NDPS molly system in their search for one suspect.
“If we blow this one,” Ooljee muttered as he checked his spinner connections, “we are likely to wipe the database for the entire department.” The wall monitor opposite was three times the size of the one in his kitchen.
“We won’t blow it.” Moody did his best to shore up his partner’s confidence. “We know how to handle it now. We’re damn-well experienced.”
“Are we? Do we know as much about this as we think we do?”
“I hope so. I’d sure hate to know less than we think we
do.”
Ooljee grinned weakly, turned to face the screen, and activated the spinner. He began the chant almost reluctantly.
Moody kept a wary eye on his friend. Samantha Grayhills stood nearby and watched silently. She was trying to divide her time between the zenat and her own spinner as she frenziedly took notes.
On strict orders from the NSI they were alone in the room. It had been hell obtaining the agency’s permission to proceed. Ooljee had convinced them by insisting that if they were not allowed to proceed, Gaggii was sure to find a way to use the web in some unimaginable but highly damaging fashion that was certain to compromise national security. His claim was more speculation than certainty, but like any other government agency, the NSI thrived on speculation. Its worried representatives gave the two officers the go-ahead.
Out of deference to departmental concerns, the room had been smothered in interrupts and fail-safes so that in the event of another program runaway the web could be isolated from the rest of the building. Hopefully. It was one thing to have a precinct station bum, another to watch Reservation HQ go up in flames.
No, there could be no mistakes, Moody knew. He wasn’t worried. Hadn’t they successfully accessed the web several times since that incident? They knew what they were about.
As the strains of the chant echoed around the room, Grayhills beckoned Moody close and whispered in his ear.
“I was just thinking. We might be overlooking a potential problem. If this Gaggii has learned how to manipulate the web, and he knows that you located him before by using it, he might plant something to ensure that it doesn’t happen again.”
“Fine time to bring that up.” Moody joked to cover his unease. “Y’all are assuming he’s learned enough to pretty much do what he wants with it. I don’t buy that. If that was the case, we’d have heard something by now, because he as much as told us that he’s got it in his mind to do something noticeable.”
“You don’t call the conjuring up endless snake noticeable?”
“He did that to deal with a real threat in real time. Maybe he’s learned enough to use the web a little bit, but I don’t think he’s had time enough to learn how to prevent others from doing the same. Until Paul and I dropped in on him, he didn’t even suspect anyone else knew of its existence.”
She considered, still watching Ooljee at work. “I hope you are right.”
Moody straightened, watching his partner carefully. “Well, we’ll know in a couple of minutes, won’t we?”
The access sandpainting appeared on the zenat. Ooljee approached, made the necessary adjustment with his right hand, and stepped back as the image gave way to the coruscating infinity that was the web. Nothing leaped out of it to attack him. Nothing suggested that access was now in any way restricted or forbidden.
Ooljee didn’t hesitate. “Have you recently been accessed by the individual Yistin Gaggii?”
“Yes,” came the prompt reply.
The sergeant glanced with relief at his companions, addressed the zenat again. “Where did this occur?”
“Near the place Shungopavi.”
Samantha Grayhills was puzzled. “That’s on Hopi lands. What’s he doing there?” Seeing the confusion on Moody’s face, she explained, “The Hopi lands sit in the middle of the Navaho territories, like a square hole in a square doughnut.”
Ooljee queried the web anew. “Does he have a destination?”
“He is going to the place Cameron.”
Grayhills’ confusion deepened. “I wonder why Cameron? As I remember it, there is nothing there except a few tourist facilities and a Northern Arizona University science
extension.”
But Moody saw the possibilities immediately. “Mollys!
Webwork. He’s looking to replace the equipment we’ve denied him.”
She sounded dubious. “Not unless he’s easily satisfied. There’s nothing fancy up there. It’s all typical university facilities. Pure research stuff, no heavy-duty analytic equipment. ”
Moody looked disappointed. “Nothing else?”
“Just administrative offices and labs. Mostly geology and high-energy physics. Not my department, really. I saw a short vidpiece on NAU last year. It mentioned the extension.”
“But no intense molly ware?”
“Sorry. Nothing more than they need for local support. Cameron itself is a tiny town, an academic outpost.”
“Maybe that’s not his final destination. ” Moody regarded the compliant zenat. “Maybe he’s just going to be passing through. What else is in the area?”
“There’s the main NAU campus down in Flagstaff. It’s home to the biggest network between L.A. and Albuquerque.”
“Now, that makes sense. We need to alert the security people there, and get the local police to organize a cordon.”
‘‘Maybe we can find out what he is up to.” Ooljee looked back at the screen.
“Do you know what Yistin Gaggii is going to do in Cameron? Is that his final destination or only a stop on his journey to somewhere else?”