Death Match - Diane Duane [72]
“That they told your guy about, maybe!” Heming said. “What if they just want to catch our ops actually using the ‘flipflop’ instructions?”
“That’s not going to happen,” Darjan said. “The server issue is handled. Stop worrying about it, and just make sure those conditionals get used properly.”
“And in the third match, the Rio de Janeiro Rotans—” said the ISF president.
“You saw the tests,” Heming said.
“Tests are one thing,” Darjan said. “Just make sure your people function at least that well on Thursday. What about those ‘repairs’ to the South Florida team’s Net boxes?”
“—play the New York JumpJets—”
More shouting came from the selection ceremonies. “Which means that the Los Angeles Rams play Sydney Gold Stripe in the fourth match. And here’s the play-off schedule—”
Heming scowled and waved the volume down. “Almost all done,” he said. “The only ones not done now are the captains and two of the forwards. They’ll be done today or tomorrow…plenty of time.”
“Good.” Darjan’s smile persisted, and it wasn’t particularly pleasant. “Not that they’re likely to be a problem again in play. Xamax should wipe them up nicely even without help. But some of the principals want them out of the play-offs right away…they’re still pissed off at the ‘Kiwanis kids’ having the nerve even to get into the same volume with Chicago last time, much less draw with them.”
“Fine…we’ll take care of it. What about your invigilator?”
“I have a call to her scheduled for this afternoon, just before she goes to pick up her little honey from school. She’ll play our side, I think.”
Heming chuckled. “Well, then, we’ve got everything sorted out. This should be an interesting week….”
Catie came home from school in a most unaccustomed rush. Normally she took her time on the combined ride and walk, letting herself depressurize after the day’s work. Today, though, she came plunging in through the side door as if she were being pursued by wolves, and ran straight into Hal, nearly flattening him.
“Hey, look out, what’s the matter with you?” he yelled at her. “Hey, not in there, I was going to go online, you can’t—!”
Catie never heard what he said. She was in the implant chair, her implant lined up, within a matter of seconds. A few breaths later she was standing in the Great Hall. “Space—” she said.
“There you are,” said her workspace manager. “I’ve been worried sick. There’s a virtcall waiting for you. James Winters.”
“Oh, thank heaven. Mr. Winters—”
He stepped straight through into her space. “Catie. Sorry I couldn’t talk to you this morning. There were some things going on in the office.” He glanced around. “Are we private at the moment?”
“Uh, yes.”
“Do you have encryption?”
“Yes,” Catie said, “I use DeepSatchel—”
“Would you turn it on?”
“Space?” Catie said.
“Listening.”
“Go to encrypted mode and match to the remote encryption protocol.”
“Done.”
“Thanks,” Winters said.
“And give Mr. Winters a chair!”
The same one he had used last time appeared. He seated himself. “Did your mother tell you she was going to speak to me, the other day?” Winters said.
“Uh, yes,” Catie said. “It’s been kind of busy—we haven’t had a chance to touch base since then. We keep missing each other.”
“The curse of modern life,” Winters said. “We’re more connected than we ever were, but no one seems able to keep in touch, even in the same house. Well, anyway, she’ll have told you that she and your dad were happy enough for you to be working on this business, as long as due care was taken. Which obviously I promised her it would be.”
He bent a rather thoughtful look on Catie. She instantly broke out in a sweat.
“Uh,” she said. “Mr. Winters, I have a couple of things to tell you. But first of all, did you read what I sent you? It’s really important.”
“I read it,” he said. “We’re handling it. Some of our people are not too far from Karen de Beer’s house right now. We’ll be watching carefully to