had something to do, but I don't remember what. Damn."
"Don't force it," Toreth said. "Can anyone else confirm the details of this conversation?"
The implication didn't produce even a flicker of emotion. "Probably not. Although I'd just left Marian's office. She may have heard us talking, but I doubt she would have been able to hear the exact words. Oh, yes, sorry. Dr Marian Tanit — she's the senior psychologist here."
"And you didn't see or speak to Jarvis after that?"
"No." Warrick looked down at the desk, his palms stroking over each other again. Unconscious nervous habit, Toreth decided. "And won't, now."
"Do you have any idea why anyone would select Kelly particularly as a corporate target?" Toreth asked.
"Mm . . . no. I couldn't even venture a guess. Nothing she worked on was of great immediate commercial interest."
"I have to ask a standard question — nothing personal. Did you have any relationship with the victim, other than a professional one?"
"Meaning?"
He abandoned subtlety. "Have you ever had sex with her?"
Warrick frowned slightly — annoyance, was Toreth's first guess, but then he realised it was a genuine effort to remember.
"Not that I recall," Warrick said at length, "but I'd have to check the logs to be sure. If you mean outside the sim, the answer is definitely no."
The first sentence had riveted Toreth's attention to the extent that he barely heard the second. "The
logs
?"
Warrick smiled again, a fleeting glimpse of teeth before his expression sobered. "SimTech is a corporation, albeit a small one, but we aim to become a great deal larger and for that we need products — practical implementations of sim technology. Sex sells, Para-investigator. It is a historical truism than any technology that can be used for pornography or other applications in the sex industry will succeed."
"So what are the logs?"
"We test our hardware and software on as many volunteers as we can. Most of them are in-house, because of confidentiality issues. So it's possible that, during some test or piece of research, I might've had sex — in the sim — with Kelly. I don't think so, but I can't guarantee I would remember. However, everything is recorded, so it would be in the session logs."
"You get to fuck enough twenty-two-year-old students that you can't
remember
?" Toreth's professional control deserted him. "Jesus fucking Christ. Nice work if you can get it."
This time Warrick didn't smile. "It is not a free-for-all orgy. We're sensitive to the emotional dangers involved and the possibility of exploitation. All activities are covered by strict protocols and closely supervised. It is just a job, you might say." He tilted his head, eyes narrowing, making Toreth feel like a specimen under examination. "Tell me, Para-investigator, do you take pleasure in inflicting pain during interrogations?"
"I —" Toreth blinked. "Not in the way you mean, no. I like to do my work well, whatever it is."
"Mm." Warrick flexed his right shoulder, rubbing the wrist on the same arm, the implication clear: last night you hurt me, and enjoyed it.
When the hell did Warrick start running the interview, Toreth thought with a touch of irritation? Still, better that than hiding behind corporate lawyers. He was all in favour of interviewees who were willing to talk enough rope to hang themselves.
Toreth nodded. "Point taken."
"Is it?" Warrick shrugged. "Perhaps I forget how strange some aspects of SimTech must seem to outsiders. I apologise if I was a little sharp. I recommend talking to Doctor Tanit if you have any questions about the psychology of the situation here. That's her speciality."
Attack and retreat — the same game as last night. Toreth decided to change the subject.
"You said you didn't encourage the students to stay late. What about other people?"
Warrick grimaced. "Ideally the same rule would apply. However, I long ago surrendered to the impossibility of imposing order on creativity. Besides, as I am amongst
"Don't force it," Toreth said. "Can anyone else confirm the details of this conversation?"
The implication didn't produce even a flicker of emotion. "Probably not. Although I'd just left Marian's office. She may have heard us talking, but I doubt she would have been able to hear the exact words. Oh, yes, sorry. Dr Marian Tanit — she's the senior psychologist here."
"And you didn't see or speak to Jarvis after that?"
"No." Warrick looked down at the desk, his palms stroking over each other again. Unconscious nervous habit, Toreth decided. "And won't, now."
"Do you have any idea why anyone would select Kelly particularly as a corporate target?" Toreth asked.
"Mm . . . no. I couldn't even venture a guess. Nothing she worked on was of great immediate commercial interest."
"I have to ask a standard question — nothing personal. Did you have any relationship with the victim, other than a professional one?"
"Meaning?"
He abandoned subtlety. "Have you ever had sex with her?"
Warrick frowned slightly — annoyance, was Toreth's first guess, but then he realised it was a genuine effort to remember.
"Not that I recall," Warrick said at length, "but I'd have to check the logs to be sure. If you mean outside the sim, the answer is definitely no."
The first sentence had riveted Toreth's attention to the extent that he barely heard the second. "The
logs
?"
Warrick smiled again, a fleeting glimpse of teeth before his expression sobered. "SimTech is a corporation, albeit a small one, but we aim to become a great deal larger and for that we need products — practical implementations of sim technology. Sex sells, Para-investigator. It is a historical truism than any technology that can be used for pornography or other applications in the sex industry will succeed."
"So what are the logs?"
"We test our hardware and software on as many volunteers as we can. Most of them are in-house, because of confidentiality issues. So it's possible that, during some test or piece of research, I might've had sex — in the sim — with Kelly. I don't think so, but I can't guarantee I would remember. However, everything is recorded, so it would be in the session logs."
"You get to fuck enough twenty-two-year-old students that you can't
remember
?" Toreth's professional control deserted him. "Jesus fucking Christ. Nice work if you can get it."
This time Warrick didn't smile. "It is not a free-for-all orgy. We're sensitive to the emotional dangers involved and the possibility of exploitation. All activities are covered by strict protocols and closely supervised. It is just a job, you might say." He tilted his head, eyes narrowing, making Toreth feel like a specimen under examination. "Tell me, Para-investigator, do you take pleasure in inflicting pain during interrogations?"
"I —" Toreth blinked. "Not in the way you mean, no. I like to do my work well, whatever it is."
"Mm." Warrick flexed his right shoulder, rubbing the wrist on the same arm, the implication clear: last night you hurt me, and enjoyed it.
When the hell did Warrick start running the interview, Toreth thought with a touch of irritation? Still, better that than hiding behind corporate lawyers. He was all in favour of interviewees who were willing to talk enough rope to hang themselves.
Toreth nodded. "Point taken."
"Is it?" Warrick shrugged. "Perhaps I forget how strange some aspects of SimTech must seem to outsiders. I apologise if I was a little sharp. I recommend talking to Doctor Tanit if you have any questions about the psychology of the situation here. That's her speciality."
Attack and retreat — the same game as last night. Toreth decided to change the subject.
"You said you didn't encourage the students to stay late. What about other people?"
Warrick grimaced. "Ideally the same rule would apply. However, I long ago surrendered to the impossibility of imposing order on creativity. Besides, as I am amongst
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