Part 4 (2/2)

”Oddly, yes,” he said. ”This stupid place needs to have its board of directors sign off every time the security system gets shut down. And I don't have the time for that.”

”What's the problem with the system?” DeRicci asked. ”It's destroying my evidence,” Nyquist said.

”But you have to realize that the Hunting Club's security is there for a reason,” DeRicci said. ”The rich, powerful, and famous of Armstrong-”

”Need the privacy and the protection from I don't know what kind of threats.” He shook his head. He'd obviously heard that argument already today. ”But somehow someone managed to breach the system anyway and kill two people. And I won't find out why unless the system gets shut down.”

While she could empathize with his dilemma, she didn't entirely understand it. ”Why are you telling me this?”

”Because, I'm told, the only person who has the authority to shut this system down is you.”

”Oh.” She let out a small breath of air. Of course she had the authority. She had the authority to shut down the entire port under the right circ.u.mstances. She could even shut down the environmental systems in the dome if she believed they'd been tampered with.

But as the governor-general had told her, that belief had better be d.a.m.n solid, because if DeRicci was wrong, she'd lose not just her job, but probably any rights she had to live in Armstrong. ”You can, right?” Nyquist asked.

”Yeah, if there's some kind of domewide threat or proof that we need to get into the club to ensure the survival of everyone in the United Domes. I don't think a murder investigation qualifies.”

”Of course it does,” Nyquist said. ”You just told me why. The rich, powerful, and famous in Armstrong spend their leisure time here. This system has been breached, and they're all vulnerable to attack until we learn what caused the problem.”

”So shutting down all protection is better than marginal protection?” she asked. ”You want to tell me what kind of logic that is?”

”We'll do it before the crimes. .h.i.t the media,” he said. ”All we need is half an hour, maybe less. If you could do that-”

”I can't, Bartholomew,” she said. ”Much as I want to.”

”It's within your discretion, Noelle,” he said.

”Yeah, and it doesn't fit into the guidelines for an emergency shutdown. Unless someone really important died. It's not the governor-general, is it?”

”No,” Nyquist said.

And he didn't add any more. He wasn't going to tell her who the victims were.

Which made her nervous. He had a reason for not telling her and it couldn't be the open link. ”What if I got the head of the Hunting Club to tell you that he approves the shutoff?” Nyquist asked. DeRicci shook her head. ”I can't. I'm sorry.”

He cursed. ”Well, it was a long shot,” he said, and signed off.

She remained at her desk for a long moment. She hated disappointing him. But he had to learn that he couldn't use her position to help his investigations.

Not that he'd ever really tried before.

But her curiosity was up now. Who could have died at the Hunting Club? Why would anyone think it was a murder? And how could anyone murder someone in a place with more security than the rest of Armstrong combined?

She leaned back in her chair, wis.h.i.+ng she was still investigating crimes. She liked her new job most of the time, but it didn't resolve that need she had to have her curiosity answered.

She was half tempted to shut down the system anyway. Then she stared at the empty white carpet in the middle of her floor.

Right now she didn't dare do something that smacked of favoritism, even if no one really cared. If Ki Bowles found out about it, she'd use it to question DeRicci's abilities again.

d.a.m.n that woman. DeRicci hated being examined this closely. She hated looking over her own shoulder, questioning her own decisions.

But she would do that as long as that horrible story played.

She hoped something would come along-something bigger-that would allow that ancient history to disappear into the natter that composed most of the entertainment programming.

But she doubted that would happen, at least not for a while.

So until then, she had to be careful.

Until then, she had to do everything by the book, and hope that no one-and no investigation-got seriously hurt in the process.

6.

Talia wanted to leave her dad's office. She just wanted to run out the door, through this horrible messy part of Armstrong, and down the deserted streets. She didn't want anyone to look at her, and she didn't want to look at them.

She just wanted to disappear, vanish out of the universe. She didn't want anyone to think about her, and she didn't want anyone to care about her.

She certainly didn't want her dad to look at her again, not with that sharp a.s.sessing glance he managed, the one that saw her better than her mother ever could. With one look, it felt like he could see all the way down to her soul.

If clones had souls.

Talia brought her legs up to her chest and hugged them. She hated this office. It was too plain. Her dad had upgraded the place since she came to Armstrong, and he said he'd improved it.

If this was an improvement, she didn't want to know what it had looked like before. ”So, tell me what you did, Talia,” he said in that gentle voice.

She'd only heard him use that voice with her, not with anyone else. His voice was harsher with people who wanted something from him, and softer with people who seemed to know him. But he was not gentle. Except with her. Talia put her cheek on her knee. She wished he hadn't told her anything-not about Mom or the Recovery Man or the Gyonnese.

Especially not the Gyonnese. As she was listening, she was actually feeling sorry for them. For what her mom had done.

And that confused her. Shouldn't she be loyal to her mom? Shouldn't she believe in her mom no matter what?

”Talia,” he said again. ”I'm not mad. I just want to figure out what happened.”

”I know,” she said without looking at him.

”So tell me what you did.”

It was so embarra.s.sing. And sneaky. Stuff that wouldn't have bothered her back home. It made her feel kinda dirty now, like she'd been bad or something.

”I guessed,” she said. She still wasn't looking at him. It sc.r.a.ped her cheek to talk from this position, but she wasn't going to raise her head. She wasn't going to move.

”What do you mean?”

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