Up Against It - M. J. Locke [178]
In the image Vivian sent, a door opened on a conference: Glease and Sinton were present in the room, and the third person’s image was displayed on the wall. His image was blurred, and Glease’s and Sinton’s figures moved in front of him. But Jane recognized him instantly. It was Thomas Harman.
“We’ll have to put it off, then,” Glease was saying. “We don’t want to arouse the prime minister’s suspicions.”
“All right,” Thomas said. “I’ll get you the info as soon as I can.”
Then Glease turned to see Vivian there, and moved his hand, and the recording ended.
You weasel, she thought. Just like on Vesta.
Of all that had happened, Harman’s betrayal burned the deepest. “Thank you. We’ll have to deal with him later. Go ahead and call Sinton. I’ll sign off.”
“You don’t have to. If you have secrecy mode on, he won’t know you are there. Only I will see and hear you.”
“How do I set it?”
Vivian showed her how, confirmed her inwave invisibility, and then put the call through. Sinton’s avatar appeared. “You’ve got a nerve, calling me at this hour,” he said.
“Nathan Glease has been arrested,” Vivian told him, breathlessly. “We need to hack ‘Stroiders’ and change the stream, before the police lock things down. I need access to Upside-Down’s servers—right away.”
In Jane’s face, a call light began to flash. Sean! “I have a critical call. I have to go,” she told Vivian, privately. “Good luck,” and switched over.
Sean appeared. His image faded in and out: the transmission was video rather than inwave animation. He was calling from the cockpit of a shuttle. “Jane, urgent news. We’re out at Geoff’s claim. The stroid is full of ice. It’s a sugar rock!”
“What? How much ice? Do you know?”
“A lot. Xuan says he’s certain it’s more than ten gigatons.”
“Did you say ‘gigatons’?”
“That’s right. Giga. Tons.”
“Good God.” She breathed the words. “That’s—that’s centuries’ worth.” Jane paused. “And Xuan’s OK?”
“Yes. He’s banged up, but on his feet. He’ll be all right. Geoff is worse off. Severe burns on the left side of his body. The medic got some good drugs into him and says he’ll pull through, but we’re not taking any chances. We’re about to head back now, at top acceleration, two gees all the way. ETA eighteen minutes. The other two kids are unhurt. We’ve got three of the bad guys in custody. Three others were killed, including the ringleader, Mills.”
Jane released a breath. “Thank you, Sean.” The hotel room door started to open. “Listen, I’ve got to go. Let Aaron know about the sugar rock so he can follow up.”
“Will do, Commissioner.”
Jane didn’t bother to correct him. She disconnected as Oscar Benavidez entered in a dustfall of ‘Stroiders’ motes, looking angrier than she had ever seen him.
“I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doing,” Benavidez snarled, once the door had shut behind him, “but somehow you managed to jeopardize our only source of ice within two AUs.”
She suppressed her answering surge of anger—so what; I was supposed to sign a false confession under duress, and let the man who murdered my assistant get away scotfree?—and gestured at the chair.
“Prime Minister. Make yourself comfortable.”
He remained on his feet. “I want to know what you were up to with Nathan Glease tonight. Ogilvie is furious. He has canceled the ice deal.”
“I’ll be glad to tell you all I know. But you’ll want to hear this first. I just now got word that a sugar-rock claim has come in. A big one.”
He tensed. “You got word? Just now? How did you—” then he shook away his questions. “Never mind. How big?”
“We don’t have exact numbers yet. My husband, the geologist, estimates a minimum of ten gigatons.”
Benavidez’s eyes went wide. He opened his mouth, and closed it again. “Ten gigatons? Is that—?”
“Yes. That’s a lot. Many times as big as our usual shipment. Many, many. And ten is a minimum—the actual amount could be more. In short, we’ll never want for ice again. Ever.”
Benavidez looked at her for a long moment. He sank into the bedside chair,