"Ranasfari can't have said that. It doesn't fit."
Seeing him like this, exhausted, wounded, and cripplingly despondent she felt an overwhelming surge of affection for him. The case had been taxing him; punished by the gland, driven by his own ruthless brand of determination, beaten up by Kendric's bastards. Maxed out. All she wanted to do was help, ease the burden. If only he didn't have this stupid code of his, always giving a hundred per cent. It was too much of him.
"Well, Ranasfari did say it. And it's time you were in bed, Greg Mandel."
"No, no, you don't understand. The blitz was a vengeance attack."
"Yes, you said. You proved Kendric ordered it."
"Yeah, well, sort of."
"The Merlin," she said, beginning to understand.
"If the Merlin was deliberately sabotaged," he said, "then the blitz was part of a kombinate spoiler operation."
"You are concussed. There's nothing to say the Merlin shutdown couldn't be vengeance, too. Kendric wanting to wipe Philip Evans, and damage Event Horizon at the same time by undermining confidence in the giga-conductor cells. Hit Julia from both sides at once. After all, we know he's already used a top-grade hotrod against Event Horizon to pull the security monitors. He probably used the same hotrod to shut down the Merlin."
"Oh, yeah, right."
It was obvious he wasn't convinced. She began to speak with slow deliberation, voicing her thoughts almost as they formed. "The motive for launching the blitz depends on whether Kendric knew of Philip Evans's NN core. If he did, it was him out for vengeance; if not, it was a kombinate spoiler. Right?"
"That's about the size of it."
"Good. So, how bright is Katerina?"
"What?"
"Don't you see? It all hangs on her, whether or not she knew about the NN core. And from what you've told me about her before she met Kendric, she sounds like the all-time champion bimbo. Could she have worked out what was going down at Wilholm?"
His eyes closed, face pained. "Dunno. She had a good education."
"Means nothing. Who would know if she's got enough brains?"
"Julia, I suppose. Certainly poor old Adrian. I knew it would happen, that she'd dump him. Should've warned him, given him the benefit. He wouldn't have listened."
Eleanor ignored his ramblings. Knowing the sense of excitement derived from solving human intricacies. Finally appreciating how Greg could become so wrapped up in his cases. There was a certain addictive quality to unravelling the carefully crafted deceits of other people, it was a form of conquest, outsmarting them. "Then you'll just have to ask Julia. But not today, I think."
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Wilholm's lawn sprinklers were working at full strength, their long white plumes adding a faint coppery tang to the dry pollen-clogged air. Julia ran down the garden path, giggling wildly, trying to dodge the spray shooting out of the rotating nozzles. The cotton of her emerald-green dress was already damp. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Adrian had almost caught up. A shriek, a last triumphant burst of speed from her legs, and she reached the gravel drive ahead of him.
OtherEyes Access Request.
Adrian yelled behind her, cursing, and she turned, cracking up at the sight of him caught full square in one of the foamy jets. He slopped on to the gravel trailing dark footprints.
"I'm bloody drenched," he wailed, laughing with her.
He was too; T-shirt and tennis shorts clinging to his skin. She draped her arms round his neck, kissing him exuberantly. "My very own Mr. Wet T-shirt." The giggles set in again, unstoppable.
OtherEyes Priority Access Request.
His hands found her rump, squeezing with interest. "Do we have enough time before he gets here?" His breath was hot in her ear. He'd begun to nuzzle her neck, aiming for that place he'd found which was exceptionally ticklish.
She let out a heartfelt sigh, squirming in his arms as his tongue licked below her ear. "Not this morning. Busy."
"Afternoon?"
She nodded eagerly. Adrian was insatiable. Wonderfully, fabulously insatiable.
Alaka had been disappointed by the non-appearance of their star guest at most of the functions after Friday night. But she didn't give a flying fig about that. This was love.
And Adrian felt the same about her, so enraptured he'd come back to Wilholm with her on Sunday night.
"I'm afraid to let you out of my sight," he'd said. "I can hardly believe a girl like you would even look at someone like me."
So she did her best to convince him, realising his every wicked fantasy on her big apricot silk bed, and in the Jacuzzi, the shower, dresser chair, deep-pile rug. And Adrian could be very wicked indeed.
Her grandfather hadn't said anything about Adrian coming to stay, not a peep. She hoped that meant he'd finally accepted her as an equal. Part of his kindness before, she knew now, had been the type a teacher shows a gifted pupil. That she could be groomed to manage Event Horizon was his driving concern. She forgave him that. Right now she could forgive anybody anything.
OtherEyes Access Request: Please Juliet.
"All afternoon," Adrian growled insistently.
"Absolutely." He was going back to the college in the evening, which would give them a solid six hours to practice yet more of that rapturous sex. Then there was next weekend to look forward to. Thank the Lord Cambridge wasn't far away. Although she would've travelled to Tasmania for him.
Julia heard the sound of tyres on the drive, and began to disentangle herself. Suddenly wondering what the hell she must look like; hair tangled, front of her dress damp from where she'd pressed against Adrian, cheeks flushed, and grinning like a madwoman. Greg would hardly need his empathy to see what she'd been getting up to.
Adrian kept hold of her hand as the little Duo pulled up in front of the portico. The car's arrival frightened Wilholm's flock of snow-white doves into flight above her.
Open Channel to NN Core. Load OtherEyes, Limiter#Three. Sight and hearing only, so her grandfather wouldn't be able to sense her racing heart, nor experience Adrian's adventurous hands.
Thank you so very much, Philip Evans said. So sorry to trouble you. In case it's of the remotest interest, we think the Trojan program which Gabriel predicted has been loaded into the Event Horizon datanet. There was a highly sophisticated code melt in our Doncaster silicon-fibre plant 'ware two minutes ago; they are scheduled to squirt their production data to me in another five minutes.
Julia suddenly hated the real world for intruding on her private happiness, it seemed to delight in conspiring to reduce her time with Adrian—Greg's visit, unseen hackers. Why couldn't they leave her alone? Petty grubbing manipulators, all of them, pissing in the wind. They weren't going to alter society, nor bankrupt Event Horizon, nor make the Sun revolve around the Earth, turn water into wine. The sum total of their activities was so near to zero as to be derisory. People were so bloody stupid, and insensitive; animals that'd learnt how to wear clothes.
Her arm tightened instinctively around Adrian. He didn't know how much of a comfort he was.
Don't be so sarcastic, Grandpa, it's very unbecoming. Have Walshaw's security programmers managed to backtrack?
Not yet.
Total surprise.
Give them some credit, Juliet, that melt was hard to spot.
If they'd written a decent guardian program in the first place there wouldn't have been a melt through.