Vizhniak: “And the revelations of AXIS will influence us for at least that long, whatever AXIS finds. In our young maturity, we will explore the stars, we will visit B-2 in person. It will be a wonderful time. So perhaps in their exasperating way, they are right. Dating from AXIS’s revelations, a new age, one in which the notion of punishment and retribution will pass completely from our minds.”
Switch/LitVid 21/1 B Net:
AXIS (Band 4)> My mobile explorer is beginning geological analysis of a weathered rock outcropping near the 70 N 176 W tower site. One of my ocean going explorers has not made a report in six hours. A second mobile explorer and a third balloon explorer in the circular northern sea are now detecting processed nutrition related substances that do not seem to be made by the sea’s ubiquitous plant life. They may be traces of animal metabolism; they may also be spoor of an unknown form of motile plant life.
32
Where there are sins there is multitude.
Day of the big flight, LA to Hispaniola in two hours. Dawn.
Dytching relentlessly in her living room, waiting for a conference and confirmation call from D Reeve at Joint PD. Concentrating isolating her fear. Her grief over Ernest genuine as if he had died.
As Mary stretched and held dynamic peaceful tension she consulted the city board through her home pd net seeing LA spread out in Perez analysis colorful mosaic each color a community’s state in social space of six dimensions, colors changing every day. Angry red in the jags six months running; unrest from Selector predation.
Mary finished her dytch and stood naked before a full length mirror inside bathroom door, skin shining healthy but still showing the paler crease of buttock. She inspected the blanch, performing a classic Betty Grable and frowned. Least of her worries. Stepped into civvies required whenever pd worked outside the city. Trim dark cranberry and rose longsuit sleeves cut elbow-length, white gloves, static design of flowers in breeze across midline belt, elegant but within duty standards. Had a moment of dizziness not recognizing herself, knowing this was the young girl looking out of her eyes, frightened, so many levels within her frightened for so many reasons none of them rational. What could happen to her in Hispaniola? Millions went there each year to try to spin their way to the platinum life; polite gambling, well paid and socially respectable men and women dark and light of financially amenable virtue.
But Mary Choy would have the weight of US federal. High visibility in times of change. That worried her.
She sat bent over a cup of coffee on the couch in the living room watching the pale dawn across the eastern hills on the comb monitor channel, paging through view after view from the cameras mounted around the comb exterior with a soft laconic bark of aspect numbers. Knowing she was as prepared mentally and physically as she could hope to be this day. Waiting.
Feeling sorry for Ernest. Blanking that.
Little girl amazed at how far she had come living in the comb foot pd investigator body matched to long desire, all things different. What would Mother think, sister, brother Lee. Sadness over the years of silence between them all; her transformation the ultimate insult added to earlier injury. No longer a daughter or a sister. Theo. I am who I am because I have been given a choice. I have chosen and damn you all. Inward seeing her self—still short, round-faced.
Her eye caught the blinking green light of the silenced private number. She watched it signal a message coming through; not D Reeve, who would be using the pd line; wondered if she should answer if it would be Ernest. She needed time to sort through those difficulties. The message ended and the light switched to amber ready.
She cut off the screen and opened the blinds to the real view—a wedge of the second foot and then open city and sky beyond looking north to other combs belted by clouds. Rain falling on the city here and there smudge curtains below the bluepocked ceiling. Looked back to the amber light, shook her head slowly—never could leave a message for long. “Playback private line message,” she said. The amber light winked to blue playback.
“Hello, M Choy? This is Sandra Auchouch. We met in the Joint PD Central two days ago.” The display indicated accompanying picture. Mary switched on the screen and looked over the bichemical orbital transform’s image lovely cream skin wide deer eyes patch of fur on right cheek shaved to reveal orbit guild and agency symbols. “I thought I’d give you a call and let you know when I’m free. As I said, it’s not often I find kindred company during a fall. I’ll be working through this week but I’ll be free New Year’s Eve and Day. Shall we party into the binary millennium? Here’s my remote code. Don’t be shy. Goodbye.”
Mary felt a twinge and told the phone to turn off. She hadn’t had many contacts or friends beyond Ernest and the pd for months. Now she was being pursued and she rather enjoyed the thought of talking and sharing the New Year with somebody new and sympathetic.
“Send text message to Auchouch remote number,” she said. “Sandra: Off on travel for a few days. Let you know when I’m back. Thanks for calling. Terminate and send.”
The pd line chimed fairy carillon.
“Answer. Hello, this is Mary Choy.”
“M Choy, D Reeve. We have everything prepared for your flight. I’ve confirmed two of our top interstate and international investigators to assist you. They’re canny about Hispaniola—they’ve had to deal with Colonel Sir’s less tasty shadows for years now. I believe you know their names: Thomas Cramer from State/City International, Xavier Duschesnes from Interstate. I have them both on conference now, T Cramer, Washington, DC.”
Cramer appeared, late twenties early thirties dark haired round faced wearing what pds thought of as federal camouflage—gray longsuit puffed collar shirt draped cuffs. Cramer was LA extended pd, his job to interface with federal for international problems that affected LA and southern California. Mary knew his work; he tracked hellcrowns and other illegal imports. Cameo beside Cramer appeared another: Mary did not recognize him.
“X Duschesnes, Interstate,” Reeve introduced. “Xavier is in New Orleans. Both will be joining you in Hispaniola later in the evening, a few hours after your arrival. I thought you’d like to talk before departure, brief each other on last minute details.”
Mary nodded cordially. Duschesnes and Cramer returned her greetings. They both seemed tired. “We’re going into Colonel Sir’s boudoir, looking for a murderer,” Cramer said. “I hope LA has exhausted all other possibilities.”
“We found a reservation for a flight to Hispaniola in his name,” Mary said. “And an invitation from Yardley himself. Our sources haven’t found him in the city, and Oversight told us he has done nothing outside the city for several days.”
Cramer whistled. “You got more than zip from Oversight? In the silky,” he said.
“Caribbean Suborbital NordAmericAir confirms that his ticket to Hispaniola was used, but cannot confirm he used it. We inquired through federal, and federal passed our concern on to Hispaniola. Federal tells us it has received a formal diplomatic international clearance for investigation from Yardley himself. They deny that Goldsmith has entered, but we’re cleared to search Hispaniola and use all of their police facilities.”
“I suspect federal put considerable pressure on the Hispaniola government,” Duschesnes said. “There’s a lot of hot and sandy here between federal and Hispaniola. We’ve just closed down two continental clearing houses for hellcrowns. Federal is really cleaning house, and that could make things touchy in Hispaniola.”