The Resurrected Man by Sean Williams Page B

of demolition. Business was moving out and the buildings were being torn down or abandoned unless declared “aesthetically relevant.” This was less a lingering after-effect of the Slow War than just another indication of changing times. If VTC had weakened the argument for centralised administration centres, then d-mat had killed it entirely. Cities like Faux Sydney, which existed in isolation from any other urban center, connected to the world only by d-mat and name, had been an inevitable development.
    Indeed, if her life continued along its present path, she would soon find herself living in such an environment. Common sense suggested that she should move to Artsutanov Station and MIU-ACOC, where she would be theoretically safe from the Twinmaker should he decide to move against her. It would also eliminate one source of d-mat lag from her daily diet. The administrative and operations areas were,ordinarily, very secure, but with KTI compromised not even they were safe. She figured that if she was going to be at risk wherever she went, she might as well continue to operate from home. Even becoming a skin, cocooned in instruments and never stepping through her door again, would be better than living her life by someone else's rules.
    â€œI haven't had a chance to script the interview properly,” she said. “Do you have anything in mind?”
    â€œVariations on the usual theme. Tell her we detected an anomaly in the jump she took on the twelfth and that we need her help to look into it further. If she wants to know more about the anomaly, we can explain that she was diverted through an irregular node between interchanges and that we suspect someone is rerouting traffic through that point in order to defraud KTI of relay earnings.”
    â€œYou think that'll be enough to convince her to hand over her UGI?
    â€œIt usually is. There shouldn't be a problem if she thinks money's involved.”
    â€œTrue.”
    â€œI'll hit her with the juicy bits last, just in case she gets nervous.” He adopted an exaggerated version of his own voice: “Working for NuSense must have its down-side, right? Lots of prank calls, loonies following you. Experienced anything like that lately? Even if the answer is no, that's something.”
    â€œWe can't make her suspicious, whatever we do. If word gets out—”
    â€œKuss , Marylin. I'm no golya. I know what I'm doing.”
    True. He did. He had been with the MIU since its inception and had spent the previous ten years working for the EJC. Sometimes it was hard to remember that he was both older and more experienced than her, even if she was his superior officer.
    â€œSorry, Jason. I guess I was reminding myself more than you.”
    He shrugged. “That's okay. You've got a lot on your mind at the moment.”
    â€œToo much.” She stirred restlessly on the seat. “No offence, Jason, but I just don't know what I'm doing here. I doubt talking to Suche-Thomas will make any difference. It'll be the same as the others; they're completely in the dark. The Twinmaker only wants their bodies, not their lives.”
    â€œSo he's a chauvinist.” It was hard to tell if he was joking or not. “But it's still a lead, and we have to pursue it.”
    â€œI'm not arguing with that. It's just—” She stopped. A Why me? would sound churlish and spoilt. She wasn't like that. But she did fail to see why she had been ordered to accompany Fassini on what was basically a one-person plus VTC monitor assignment. Unless it was connected to the “something else” Whitesmith had planned for her. Whatever that was.
    Fassini studied her closely, obviously trying to work out what she was thinking. “Is he awake yet?”
    â€œMaybe.” Not a bad guess. She had checked on Jonah's condition shortly before leaving her unit. Mild sedation was helping him sleep while repair agents cruised his body, rebuilding muscles, organs and fat