Mary had accepted Reeve’s invitation simply to keep her hand in on Selector investigations. She had removed herself from the Phung case seven months ago; workload deadends and discouragement had forced that decision.
She did not like these operations; jiltzing Selectors was like dipping into a dark nightmare shared by all society. But if there was a nexus that summed up all problems involving crime, society and public defense, it was the question of Selectors. She could not be an honest pd and refuse the opportunity.
Waiting for further instructions from the CEC she concentrated on the view, glazing all other thoughts. She had assumed her standby just ten minutes before; she did not even know yet where the jiltz would be. That would be revealed moments before, giving her just enough time to rendezvous with her team section.
Los Angeles was a glory at night. Mary had read once that only a young civilization wasted its light by throwing it into empty space. Earth’s young cities still did just that, all but the combs dark irregular towers against the general skyglow. Canted mirrors reflected night, their edges lumed by warning beacons and the dim glowing red lines of Meissner junctures. In the jag neighborhoods between the combs, streets blazed forth in orange and blue and homes sprinkled white and blue like earth-bound stars. Older smaller commercial towers contributed checkerboards of afterhours activity between the combs.
Suborbital jet liners crossed overhead to LAX oceanport with dull booming noises like sea creatures from an inverted deep. Bands of first, second and third neorbit satellites excelled a Milky Way never clear in LA’s haze. Nothing in a city like LA ever stopped; whole communities always awake active doing thinking. She could dytch to that rhythm; she loved the city. LA was her mother and father now, huge and enveloping, all nurturing all employing, healthy and unhealthy, challenging and demanding. Threatening.
Mary had been on two previous Selector jiltzes. The first had been a farce; no victims or suspects only a brokendown hellcrown stripped for parts in a deserted decaying shade California bungalow. On the second they had found Phung himself locked away in a jag seven three industrial space strapped naked to a filthy cot clamped in a small import (Hispaniolan) hellcrown, his sentence served—two minutes in hell beyond anything conceived by the most perverse theologian.
Selectors were tro shink careful, very bright nearly all high naturals though twisted this one way: believing themselves to be the purifiers of a sick order. They seldom made major mistakes. Tonight might be crucial; that it came on the heels of the eight murders and a discouraging search was annoying but par.
Mary pictured Selectors getting Goldsmith doing their job claiming to do her job for her. She turned away from the view. Fully a third of US citizens spot-polled by LitVid supported Selector illegal activity at least tacitly cocktail chatter support uninvolved go with the mob approval or deep bitter eye for eye. Ironic that most of this third were untherapied; Selectors preyed most often on untherapied, they being more likely to commit the sort of crimes that spurred passion for retribution.
Knock on the door who is it bringing pain what a surprise.
“Lieutenant Choy,” she heard in her left ear. “Take Aisle La Cienega to level five four, lane Durant, dominium two one. That is a three level outer cavity dwelling. Your first position is west first floor facing arbeiter elevator entrance, joining third team commander Lieutenant R Sampson and Junior Lieutenant T Willow. Probable weapons include flechette and aero pistols. Pd medical will be on scene.”
Mary specked all her expensive transform being violently rearranged by flechette and prodded by a pd medical asking questions: What is this? Do you wish return to normal anatomy for this trauma? She had never been injured in line of. Precaution; police wisdom quick moves.
She walked the distance to the meeting point with Sampson and Willow. They stood in plainclothes near an airshaft balcony a hundred yards from her first standby, talking quietly. Mary joined them and they moved ninety degrees around the circular shaft. Warm air from below lifted Mary’s hair. When they stopped Sampson smiled at her; Willow was solemnly nervous.
“Reeve tells us you’re secondary in this jiltz,” Sampson said quietly.
“It’s not my primary,” she admitted. “But I’m concerned. I worked with W Taylor and C Chu last year to track the Phung kidnappers.”
“These could be more important,” Sampson said. “We may have three or four victims. As many as ten Selectors. Maybe even the second in command.”
“Shlege?” she asked.
Sampson nodded. “If we’d jiltzed a week earlier, we might have had Yol Origund himself.”
“Really.”
Sampson showed her a pd slate with floorplan of the dominium. “Three levels. Very expensive. Owned by A Pierson and F Mustapha, city licensed public lawyers. Both Pierson and Mustapha had connections with the Raphkind campaign staff. Both have been seen in New York by local pd in the last three hours. But the dominium is occupied.”
“On loan,” Willow said with a lift of brows, as if it were terribly significant. Mary nodded.
“It’s probably dirty east,” Sampson said. “But everybody here is local. Nano watchers in the paint have tagged six regulars four occasionals in the last twenty four hours. Victims were not seen being brought in; that was before we tagged this for a jiltz.”
“Any idea who the victims are?” Mary asked.
“CEC and Reeve think two petties and two executives. No names. Shlege is big on executive responsibility.”
“Comb executives?”
“No,” Willow said. “One is a shade manufacturer. We don’t know what the petties do.”
“They have aeros and flechettes,” Mary said. She turned to Sampson. “Do we get issue?”
“This is sensitive territory; only first team has weapons.”
Mary sniffed with professional disdain. “We’re on nine lives again.”
Willow glanced between them. He was four months new. Sampson relieved his puzzlement. “The pd doctors tell us they can reassemble a severely damaged body about nine times per individual before some fatal incorrectible snouts up. Nine lives. Like cats.”
“Ah,” Willow said, showing enlightenment. “Have either of you been…reassembled?” His face fell, seeing Mary’s small grin.
“Only Mary,” Sampson said. “By choice, not necessity.”
“Sorry,” Willow said.
“Nada.”
“It’s a fine transform,” Willow continued, digging his hole deeper. “Really…Fine.”
“T Willow comes from a south county christian tech family,” Sampson said by way of explanation.
“We don’t see transforms often in south county,” Willow said.
“No apologies necessary,” Mary said. “But being stylish leaves me with only eight lives.” Stylish. On the sly spin.
Willow thought about that, nodded seriously. “When do we put on our helmets?”
“Last pico, in final position. We haven’t had a Selector jiltz pd down in three years,” Sampson said. “Let’s hope Origund still thinks we’re brothers under the skin.”
They all lifted their heads in unison as the jiltz leader’s voice spoke through earphones. They were to set up a listening post and wait for other sections to complete the surround on the dominium’s two lower levels. Court ordered nano watchers and listeners had been sent into the dominium’s sewage and structure; microscopic, extremely efficient and detectable only by the most extraordinary means.
“We might even get a picture on this one,” Sampson said.
“Heads up videophiles,” Willow said. All three received instructions to move into the next position.
They crowded into the arbeiter elevator, stooping to fit. Sampson issued a pd code for control and the elevator took them without protest to their assigned level.