"You got it." Suddenly he grinned at her, an expression that did not make him any more attractive. "That's where we can help each other, Major."
"Sir?"
"You're here this morning technically to be demobilized. You're a medical retiree due to spend the rest of your days on this iceberg, which is unfortunate for you. However, your experience as an intercommand investigator, and your earlier work with preliminary data gathering landing teams, is of some interest to us, despite your disability, as is your record of combat experience. You don't realize it yet, of course, but being a combat veteran carries considerable cachet in this place where most families have at least one, and usually several, relatives in the corps. Furthermore your genetic stock is similar to these people's." He eyed her, and Yanaba knew he was assessing the sprinkle of white in the black hair that Bry used to claim had an auburn cast under bright light, the high cheekbones, the rather bleached-out olive complexion, and the slightly tilted green-gold eyes. Her body had once been lean and athletic, but weeks of illness had reduced her to brittle gauntness at a weight she might have enjoyed had her strength not deserted her along with the extra kilos.
"How's that?" she asked, mystified.
"The people on this continent are a mixture of Irish and Eskimo-we've resettled cold-weather natives all over the planet to assist the others in assimilation. In this area it's Eskimo: in other settlements, ethnic Scandinavians and Indo-Asians."
"I don't exactly fit then," she said, smiling as tolerantly as possible.
"Well, of course, you were practically born into the company, but your father was Irish and your first name, Yanaba-"
"Yanaba," she corrected. "That's Navajo-my mother's people. It's a war name, like a lot of traditional Navajo names. Means 'she meets the enemy.' The Navajo, by the way, were desert dwellers, not snow people."
"Close enough," he said. "Desert can get damned cold midwinter." He dismissed her objection with a wave.
That told her she had made a tactical error by showing up his ignorance before she heard what he wanted. But she had a fierce loyalty to her family. All she had of them now was the history recorded in the computers for her by her parents before their deaths. It was about all she had had in her life that hadn't been Internal-issued.
"We think you can fit, Maddock," he told her. "And we want you to do just that, because we need to know what's going on. We want you to get to know the people, find out what or who exactly is responsible for these problems: if Shongili is concealing experiments in producing new life-forms on this planet, we need to know about it. If the geologic survey teams are being deliberately ambushed and eliminated, we want to know that, and we want to know whom we have to deal with. You don't have enough technical knowledge to locate the deposits yourself, but we want you to find out who's preventing our teams from locating them. If there's some kind of sabotage or incipient insurrection brewing, help us put a stop to it."
"Wouldn't it have been more effective to recruit a local informant?" she asked.
Giancarlo snorted. "There's something screwy about all of them. They all stick together all the time, and every time I've had one of them in my office for any length of time, they start sweating and turn red. Why would that happen if they're not scared, hiding something? Even Demintieff sweats like crazy every time he comes in while I'm here. This office is always freezing when I arrive, and even while I'm here, he keeps that outer office way too cold. These people also have gatherings that nobody from SpaceBase is invited to, and if you ask one of the new recruits from here about it, they just shrug."
"You haven't actively interrogated anyone yet, then?"
"No real excuse so far. What would I ask? Why do you people sweat so damned much, and how come I don't get invited lo your parties?"
Yana nodded.
He leaned forward and stabbed at the desk with his finger, as if the gesture would somehow make his words plainer. "We need someone loyal to the company to gain their confidence, find out what's going on."
"What if they just sweat because they're used to the cold, and they have orgies or something at their parties and don't want to mingle with outsiders out of embarrassment?"
"Major, perhaps I didn't make myself clear. You were injured at Bremport; you saw what happened there. I shouldn't have to tell you what swamps of insurgency these colonial planets can be. Unauthorized life forms have been spotted on this planet. Research-and-development teams have disappeared into nowhere. You can't tell me these circumstances aren't related. What you have to tell me instead is how they are connected with each other. Do you read me?"
She nodded, cautiously, and evidently mistaking her caution for hesitation he pressed on.
"You said something about your quarters. They're pretty standard for down here, but we certainly have the wherewithal to make them more comfortable. Also, you're not full retirement age yet, nor eligible for full pension."
"I have a medical discharge, sir."
"Not exactly. Not yet. Actually your disability status as of now is"- He tapped a key. -"only twenty-five percent. That won't generate much of a pension. If you were on covert active duty, however, you could do a lot better. We could even throw in hazardous-duty pay."
"Sir, with all due respect, while I wouldn't sniff at the money, the doctors back at the hospital…"
"You can't contact them from here, Maddock. And in the event you need further, fairly expensive care, the transport from here back to there would be beyond your means, unless, of course, Intergal foots the bill. I'll expect progress reports via Demintieff on a weekly basis unless, of course, something comes up that I should know about instanter. Demintieff will take you around, introduce you to people…"
Whatever this guy's specialty was, Yana reflected, it wasn't the gentle art of psychological persuasion. He was about as subtle as a photon torpedo. But she owed Intergal her life and had spent her life in its service. She wasn't going to turn them down just because this hammerhead thought he was blackmailing her. Besides, she could use the pay.
"With respect, sir, I think maybe Demintieff should do the bare minimum of guiding me around. Seems to me I'd be better off on my own. I'd be less suspect to any possible terrorists within the area if an indigenous civilian helped me acclimate rather than a uniformed professional."
"Good thinking, Maddock. This conversation never happened, of course." He dug a sheaf of old-fashioned hard copy from a case at his feet. "However, this contains a full briefing on what we know and suspect thus far. Familiarize yourself with it and burn it."
"Yes, sir."
"Enjoy your retirement, Maddock."
Bunny Rourke was sitting on the edge of Lieutenant Demintieff's desk when Yana and Colonel Giancarlo emerged. Neither Bunny nor Demintieff was perspiring unduly as far as Yana could nee, although at the sight of the colonel, Bunny fled through the doorway with barely a nod to Yana…,
"Demintieff!" the colonel snapped.
"Sir!"
"You're to report to SpaceBase. Congratulations, son, you've been chosen for duty shipside."
"But, sir…" The lieutenant, formerly so cheerfully obsequious, looked as stunned as if the colonel had suddenly kicked him in the balls. He evidently did not feel that congratulations were in order.
"Grab your gear on the double and you can ride back with me, soldier."
"Permission to say good-bye to my family, sir," Demintieff said with some difficulty.
"Permission granted as long as you can do it within the next forty-five minutes. Duty calls, son."
"Yes, sir."
"Maddock, in view of this man's reassignment, you are authorized to requisition civilian assistance during your civilian orientation process or until the position can be reassigned."