“The old Company motto: we bet your life.” He shrugged. “Sorry, being helpless goes against the grain. There’s no other way to get me inside?”
“None that I could find. I looked at security, supplies in, trash out — all the first choice routes I could think of. Look over it yourself. We’ve got some time. See if you can find anything I missed. We might get lucky.”
“If I wanted a nice, safe, desk job, I wouldn’t be here. Okay, I’ll see if you missed anything. I hope so, because thinking about it I like plan B even less than plan A.”
She grimaced sympathetically. “Sorry.”
“Okay, so everybody knows the timing, the routes in for our gear, the routes in for us, the switch, and our route out. Have we missed anything?” she said.
“What’s the go to hell plan?” Papa asked
“We have secondary routes out here and here.” When she mentioned them, her buckley obediently highlighted the paths through the building in red and green. “As you can see, the red route is shorter but last choice, because it has one more actively patrolled hallway intersection, more chance of after hours workers, and two more cameras to gimmick. That’s the most active stairway in the building, being closest to the front entrance. Buckley, give me the green route,” she said. “This stairway is farthest from the secure room, but least used and closest to the west loading bay. The guys bringing in supplies don’t take the stairs, they take the freight elevator. The trash goes into the burn bin there, so we also have the least likelihood of questions.”
“Don’t tell me we’re hauling that cart down the stairs?”
“Either that or just the device.”
“What’s the problem with the freight elevator?”
“More chance of traffic and requires a real badge. Tommy could probably crack it, but it’s more time spent and more risk of hostile encounter. The stair exit is around a corner from the elevator. Papa carries the prototype, Tommy carries the cart, George and I are available for reaction.”
“If that’s it, then mull it over, look for flaws, and get me any comments by the end of the day. Take off, people.”
“Your office door is jammed,” one of her work crew informed Michelle, as she walked up the side of the construction bay on her way in. It lacked only a final check of her work before she made delivery of the Aerfon Djigahr decoy to her sister. Then the endeavor would be out of her hands. She had not allowed this situation to ruffle her emotional equilibrium, so far, but with the grade II Sohon technician’s announcement, she found she actually had to devote a moment’s thought to restabilizing her heart beat and halting release of stress hormones.
“Shall I call maintenance?” he asked.
“Why waste their time? I will handle it. Thank you very much for informing me,” she said.
Oddly, the door opened perfectly correctly at her touch. Perhaps someone else had cleared the problem for her. Inside, the situation explained itself. There was a Tchpth fidgeting stealthily in the corner of her office, taking unusual care not to be visible through the open door.
“Wxlcht?” She laughed. “Have you taken up Himmit impressions in your old age?”
“I do not come to laugh, human mentat O’Neal. Planners at the highest level have reached an extremely rare decision,” he said. “They have determined that the Darhel Pardal’s attempt to engineer the death of one of the very few, and very first, Wise of an entire sophont species is an unendurable threat to long-term Galactic existence. They have determined that measures of the same order of gravity are, most regrettably, necessary. They have also determined that the most skilled intriguer available from among your own clan would present the least risk to stability in the process of quieting the threat. We knew the price when we deviated from the Path, even by proxy, even for species survival. Knowing it and paying it are, to our sorrow, different matters. We turn a ripple against a ripple, hoping they cancel more than they create. It is all most unfortunate. Most unfortunate. Barbarism always is.” He bounced silently for a several minutes, uninterrupted.
“Will you arrange this?” he asked, finally.
The Tchpth were a race almost as ancient and wise as the Aldenata. They were well set upon the Path of Enlightment. Never in her life could Michelle imagine one of them, essentially, contracting a hit. She managed to conceal her surprise.
“You know that I understand the stakes, old friend. There is another consideration, I am afraid. Regardless of their faith in the Wise among us, the jeopardy of my life as an individual complicates this particular ripple.” She recognized his expression of shock at her perceived insane selfishness as easily as she would have recognized the expressions of her own species. “It will be assumed by masses of the young and foolish, and many who should know better, that I am acting alone, out of individual human barbarism. Forgive me, but your own reaction demonstrates my point. You have known me for nearly my whole life, and your first suspicion was human self-interest. The repercussions to all, if I did this and the Indowy masters were to draw hasty conclusions, would be severe. They would find out, you know. The gravity of my perceived sin would override the strongest traditions of informational discretion among the Indowy.”
His request that she arrange an assassination was extremely disturbing, but she could, of course, see his point. Beyond that, she had immense respect for the Tchpth planners. She also had an intimate personal awareness of how humans and Galactics both were apt to react to the power of a mentat in the hands of a human. This gave her, perhaps, a more immediate understanding of how others would react to such an action on her part.
“I grant your point. However, it may, even so, be the lesser risk. I would not mention, but there is a significant favor in question.” The Tchpth’s bouncing took on an agitated air, as her friend clearly wondered if he was asking for too big a repayment of her social debt to him. He would think that. They were, after all, talking about a murder — however justified.
“A most significant favor, and I thank you again for your previous assistance.” She inclined her head, acknowledging how much she owed him. “We are fortunate, as I have a simple solution,” she said. “You speak to the Indowy Aelool, personally. He will accept the advice of wisdom. He will also be able to convey a message to my sister that will both explain the need and confirm that the request is personal among clanmates. Aelool will not recognize the message, but the human Cally O’Neal will. I can assure you that it will address your immediate concerns.”
“I do not wish to know why such a message springs so readily to mind, do I?” the Tchpth danced nervously, one set of five legs, then the other, back and forth. She did not blame him for feeling agitated. “And will the Aelool accept her explanation enough to allow her to do what is necessary?”
“Probably you do not want to know. With Aelool, you will just have to make enough hints at the real matter that when she tells him what the phrase means, he will believe her.” Michelle bit her lip, thinking. “Could you also make a simple delivery for me while you are there? That you bring a delivery from me may help clarify the message,” she offered.
“Of course. At no obligation, as this more than returns the balance of debt. We will incur a certain level of obligation to Clan O’Neal.”