Islands in the Net by Bruce Sterling Page B

story.”
    â€œYou can’t help us at all.”
    Voroshilov stood up. “Ms. Webster, you invited these gangsters into your home, I didn’t. If you had called us first we would have urged you against it in the strongest possible terms.” He hefted his terminal. “I need to interview your husband next. Thank you for the tea.”
    Laura left him and went upstairs to the telecom office. Emerson and the mayor were sitting together on one of the rattan couches, with the satisfied look of people who had beaten a debate into submission. Magruder was forking his way through a belated Tex-Mex breakfast of migas and refried beans.
    Laura sat down in a chair across the table and leaned forward, vibrating with anger. “Well, you two look comfortable.”
    â€œYou’ve been talking to the Vienna representative,” Emerson said.
    â€œHe’s no goddamn use at all.”
    â€œKGB,” Emerson sniffed.
    â€œHe says it’s not political, not their jurisdiction.”
    Emerson looked surprised. “Hmmph. That’s a first for them.”
    Laura stared at her. “Well, what do we do about it?”
    Magruder set down a glass of milk. “We’re shutting you down, Laura.”
    â€œJust for a while,” Emerson added.
    Laura’s jaw dropped. “Shutting down my Lodge? Why? Why?”
    â€œIt’s all worked out,” Magruder said. “See, if it’s criminal, then the media get to swarm all over us. They’d play it up big, and it’d be worse for tourism than a shark scare. But if we shut you down, then it looks like spook business. Classified. And nobody looks too deep when Vienna comes calling.” He shrugged. “I mean, they’ll figure it eventually, but by then it’d be old news. And the damage is limited.” He stood up. “I need to talk to that Ranger. You know. Assure her that the city of Galveston will cooperate in every way possible.” He picked up his briefcase and lumbered down the stairs.
    Laura glared at Emerson. “So that’s it? You shut down the scandal, and David and I pay the price?”
    Emerson smiled gently. “Don’t be impatient, dear. Our project isn’t over because of this one attack. Don’t forget—it’s because of attacks like this that the pirates agreed to meet in the first place.”
    Laura was surprised. She sat down. Hope appeared amidst her confusion. “So you’re still pursuing that? Despite all this?”
    â€œOf course, Laura. The problem has scarcely gone away, has it? No, it’s closer to us than ever before. We’re lucky we didn’t lose you—you, a very valued associate.”
    Laura looked up, surprised. Debra Emerson’s face was set quite calmly—the face of a woman simply relaying the truth. Not flattery—a fact. Laura sat up straighter. “Well, it was an attack on Rizome, wasn’t it? A direct attack on our company.”
    â€œYes. They found a weakness in us—the F.A.C.T. did, or the people behind that alias.” Emerson looked grave. “There must have been a security leak. That deadly aircraft—I suspect it’s been waiting in ambush for days. Someone knew of the meeting and was watching this place.”
    â€œA security leak within Rizome?”
    â€œWe mustn’t jump to conclusions. But we will have to find out the truth. It’s more important than this Lodge, Laura. Much more important.” She paused. “We can come to terms with the Vienna investigators. We can come to terms with the city of Galveston. But that’s not the hardest part. We promised safety to the people at this conference, and we failed. Now we need someone to smooth the waters. In Grenada.”
    Rizome’s Chattahoochee Retreat was in the foothills of the Smokies, about sixty miles northeast of Atlanta. Eight hundred acres of wooded hills in a valley with a white stony creek that was dry this