“At the moment, no,” said Mary, “although my guess is that he plans to release the virus in the Center when Two are One.”
“That makes sense,” said Ponter. “It’s the time of maximum population density, and there’s lots of intercity travel when its over, so—”
Hak’s voice came on, interrupting, untranslated, speaking to Ponter.
“Mare,” said Ponter, a moment later. “Hak has reached an adjudicator for me. When your travel cube arrives, head to the alibi-archive pavilion in the Center. I’ll meet you there.”
A male Neanderthal attendant was now clamping a temporary Companion onto Reuben’s left forearm. A moment later he came over to Louise and attached one to her, as well. Mary held up her own arm to show the attendant that she had a permanent unit. “Okay,” she said to Louise and Reuben. “Grab some coats and let’s go!”
It had snowed since Mary was last here; the glare from the white ground was fierce. “The adjudicator is getting hold of two more adjudicators,” Ponter said, coming back on-line, “so that they can order judicial scrutiny of Jock’s Companion’s transmissions. Once that’s done, they can triangulate on him.”
“Christ,” said Mary, holding a hand over her eyes and scanning the horizon for the travel cube. “How long will that take?”
“Not long, hopefully,” said Ponter.
“All right,” said Mary. “I’ll call you back. Christine, get me Bandra.”
“Healthy day,” said Bandra’s voice.
“Bandra, honey, this is Mary.”
“Mare, my darling! I didn’t expect you to be back until the day after tomorrow. I’m so nervous about Two becoming One. If Harb—”
“Bandra, get out of the Center. Don’t ask me why, just do it.”
“Is Harb—”
“It’s got nothing to do with Harb. Just get a travel cube, and get going, anywhere far away from the Center.”
“I don’t understand. It’s—”
“Just do it!” said Mary. “Trust me.”
“Of course I—”
“And Bandra?” said Mary. She looked at Louise and Reuben, then thought to hell with it. “Bandra, I should have said this before now. I do love you.”
Bandra’s voice was full of joy. “I love you, too, Mare. I can’t wait until we can be together again.”
“I’ve got to go,” said Mary. “Hurry, now. Get out of the Center!”
Mary looked defiantly at Louise, who had a “what was thatall about?” expression on her face. But then Louise pointed past Mary. Mary turned. The travel cube was approaching, flying over an open area covered with a blanket of snow. They ran toward it, and as soon as it had settled to the ground, Mary straddled the saddle-seat beside the driver, a redheaded male 144. She watched as Reuben and Louise climbed into the back and awkwardly mounted the two seats there. “Saldak Center, as fast as possible,” Mary said to the driver. Agonizing seconds were lost as her Companion translated her words, and the driver’s response.
“Yes, I know Two are separate!” snapped Mary. “And I know he’s a male,” she said, tossing her head in Reuben’s direction. “This is a medical emergency. Go!”
Christine was a clever little device. Mary recognized the Neanderthal imperative “ Tik!” as the first word she uttered, meaning she had moved “Go!” up to the beginning of her translation. As the driver got the car into motion, the Companion added the rest of what Mary had said.
“Christine, get me Ponter.”
“Done.”
“Ponter, why the hell does it take threeadjudicators to order that Jock be tracked?”
Ponter’s translated reply started to come into Mary’s cochlear implants again. She pulled out a bud on her Companion’s silver faceplate, and the rest of his reply was shunted to the external speaker, so that Louise and Reuben could hear: “Hey, you’re the one who was saying we didn’t have enough safeguards for privacy in our alibi-archive system. In fact, it takes unanimous consent of three adjudicators to order judicial scrutiny of a Companion when no criminal accusation has been made.”
Mary glanced at the landscape speeding by—at least it was by Neanderthal standards; the cube was probably only doing sixty kilometers an hour. “Well, can’t you accuse him of a crime?” asked Mary. “Then you’ll only need one adjudicator, right?”
“This way will be faster,” said Ponter. “An accusation requires a complicated procedure, and—ah, here’s my travel cube.” Mary could hear the sound of a vehicle descending and a few clangings and bangings as Ponter boarded. He snapped the Neanderthal words for “alibi archives,” which Mary recognized, then turned his attention back to Mary.
“All right,” he said. “Now let’s—oh, wait a beat…” The connection went dead for a few seconds, then Ponter’s voice came back on. “The adjudicators have ordered the judicial scrutiny. A technician at the alibi-archive pavilion is getting a fix on Jock’s location now.”
Reuben leaned forward so that he could talk into Mary’s Companion. “Ponter, this is Reuben Montego. As soon as they’ve located Krieger, get them to clear the area. I’m safe, and so are Louise and Mary, but any Neanderthals exposed to Jock’s virus are as good as dead.”
“I will do so,” said Ponter. “We can broadcast an emergency message to every Companion. I’ll be at the alibi pavilion shortly; I’ll make sure it happens.”
Ahead, the buildings of Saldak Center loomed. Dozens of women were out putting up decorations for Two becoming One.
“We’ve located him,” said Ponter’s voice. “Hak, cease translating; transmit directly.” Ponter began to shout in the Neanderthal language, clearly addressing the driver of Mary’s travel cube.
The driver replied with several words, one of which was “ Ka.” The car started veering off.
“He’s in Konbor Square,” said Ponter, his words once more being translated. “I’ve told your driver to take you there. I’ll meet you there.”
“No,” said Louise, leaning forward. “No, Ponter, it’s too risky for you—for any Neanderthal. Leave it to us.”
“He is not alone. The adjudicators are looking at his Companion transmissions right now; he’s with Dekant Dorst.”
“Who is that?” asked Mary.
“One of Saldak Center’s elected officials,” said Ponter. “She’s a female of generation 141.”
“Damn,” said Mary. Normally, she’d trust any female Barast to restrain just about any male Gliksin, but 141s were seventy-eight years old. “We don’t want this devolving into a hostage-taking. We have to get her out of there.”
“Indeed,” said Ponter.
“Dekant Dorst must have cochlear implants, right?” said Mary.
“Of course,” said Ponter.
“Christine, get me Dekant Dorst.”
“Done.”
Mary spoke immediately, before the Barast woman could respond to the chirp her Companion would have just made between her ears. “Dekant Dorst, don’t say a word, and don’t give any sign to Jock Krieger that you are communicating with anyone. Just cough once if you understand.”
A cough emanated from Christine’s external speaker.
“All right, good. My name is Mary Vaughan, and I’m a Gliksin. Jock is currently under judicial scrutiny. We believe he is smuggling a dangerous substance into Saldak Center. You have to get away from him at the first opportunity. We’re on our way to your location now. All right?”
Another cough.
Mary felt awful; the old woman must be terrified. “Any suggestions?” Mary said to Reuben and Louise.
“She could tell Jock that she has to go to the washroom,” said Louise.
“Brilliant! Ponter, where are Jock and this woman right now? Indoors or out?”
“Let me ask the adjudicator…They are outdoors, heading on foot to the central plaza.”
“Jock’s Wipeout virus is designed for airborne transmission,” said Mary. “He must have some sort of aerosol bomb in that metal box he’s carrying. He probably intends to plant it in the central plaza, with it set to go off during the Two becoming One festivities.”
“If so,” said Ponter, “he’ll likely time it to go off right at the end of the holiday, so that all the males will go back home before anyone shows signs of illness. Not only will that get it out to Saldak Rim, but there are many males who come in from further locations.”