Part 31 (1/2)

”You didn't hear anything, did you?” he asked, knowing his own voice was too loud. Romey shook her head.

His ears were ringing. He wasn't sure he knew where the message had come from.

He instructed his links to replay it.

”Ki Bowles's killers have come for me-”

The message was actually cut off. That was probably why it had so much sound with it. The sound amplified an emergency message, making it seem even more urgent.

He had his links trace the source of the message, and it only took a few seconds to get an answer back. Miles Flint. Nyquist swore. Romey looked concerned. ”What is it?”

”See if you can find out if there's some kind of emergency with Miles Flint.” Nyquist went to the end of the corridor where the police networks had on-screen access.

He looked for any emergency call with Flint and found one he didn't expect. Emergency call from the cafeteria in the law school at Dome University, Armstrong Branch from Talia s.h.i.+ndo (Flint). Call interrupted. Emergency call from the cafeteria in the law school at Dome University, Armstrong Branch from Talia s.h.i.+ndo (Flint). Call interrupted.

Nyquist played that back. Romey had joined him. Police! My father's being kidnapped! Help! Help! Help! We're at the cafeteria in the law library. Please help! Police! My father's being kidnapped! Help! Help! Help! We're at the cafeteria in the law library. Please help!

”I got several reports of an incident in that cafeteria,” Romey said. ”It came through many emergency links, including those weird ones issued to resident aliens. A few said that some guys took a man and his daughter away at gunpoint, and that the guys called the man Flint.”

”c.r.a.p,” Nyquist said.

”He's the one who contacted you?” Romey asked.

”It was broken off. He said Ki Bowles's killers had come for him and Talia.”

”But we don't know who Ki Bowles's killers are,” Romey said.

”Yeah.” Nyquist frowned. ”But we have a suspect.”

”Illiyitch?”

”Justinian Wagner.” Nyquist waved a finger. ”You make sure that the responding officers at the cafeteria know how important this is.”

”What are you going to do?”

”I'm heading to Wagner, Stuart, and Xendor.”

”You're not going alone,” Romey said.

”You're staying here and coordinating the search for Illiyitch.”

”I didn't mean me,” she snapped. ”Take a team.”

He nodded as he hurried out of the interrogation area. ”Don't worry,” he said over his shoulder. ”I will.”

48.

Popova sat cross-legged on one of plush chairs. She was going through one of the handhelds and comparing it to a clear net screen that was open on a table in front of her.

DeRicci had a.s.signed Popova to search through the nut ball data-the saved information from the public nets-while DeRicci herself looked over the power glitch information.

She was stunned that no one had ever noticed these glitches before. They had occurred off and on throughout the last fifteen years.

The glitches might have occurred before that as well, but she was searching through that data. She only started with information from fifteen years ago, thinking that if fifteen-year-old information was stolen recently, maybe an attempt had been made earlier as well.

She found some longer glitches, ones that occurred intermittently throughout the system.

Initially, Armstrong's city engineers thought the glitches part of the aging environmental systems array, something that worried her almost more than the glitches did. Because, it seemed to her, the engineers were awfully calm about potential problems in the environmental systems, the only thing that kept Armstrong's residents alive in the harsh environment on the Moon.

But she had to force herself not to read the engineering reports. Instead, she had been looking at the number of power glitches since the dome's systems had been rebuilt after the bombing. If she had had to guess, she would have wagered that the number of glitches went down after the rebuild-and initially they did.

But about a year after the rebuild, the glitches started again. Only this time, they'd gotten worse. And they were concentrated on specific areas-sometimes down to specific buildings. ”Rudra,” she said, ”can our techs back-trace these glitches?”

”Hmmm?” Popova looked up. Her eyes were bleary from looking back and forth at two different-sized screens. ”Um, I'm not sure. I would a.s.sume so.”

”Find out,” DeRicci said, and looked back at the data.

She heard rather than saw Popova get up from her chair. Then Popova walked over to DeRicci's desk. ”Before I forget,” Popova said, ”I found some of what's missing. It seems innocuous enough.” ”Write it up,” DeRicci said.

”I will,” Popova said. ”But it's weird.”

DeRicci looked up. She really didn't want to lose her concentration. She had numbers floating around in her mind-the number of glitches, the address of the areas where the most glitches occurred, the different types of businesses located there.

But Popova seemed determined.

So DeRicci sighed. ”Go ahead.”

”It's mostly names. People's addresses and backgrounds vanished from the public networks.” ”Everyone has the right to remove their name and address from the public boards,” DeRicci said. ”Remove yes,” Popova said. ”But not obliterate all traces of those names. And even stranger, before the traces were obliterated, every single one of those people came through the Port of Armstrong.” DeRicci leaned back in her chair. Her breath had caught. She had to remind herself to breathe. ”Every one of them?” she asked. Popova nodded. ”Did they stay at the hotels that lost records?” DeRicci asked. ”Did they bank at the banks?” ”All of the people were from off-Moon,” Popova said. ”Still, some of our banks have branches off-Moon,” DeRicci said.

”I don't know the answer to that. I didn't have time to check. But I would wager they stayed at the hotels. Most of them used the port again about two weeks after they arrived.”

”They came into Armstrong, then left two weeks later,” DeRicci said. Popova nodded. ”What can you find out about these people?”

”That's the strange thing,” Popova said. ”I can't find anything. What vanished is work records, birth and death records, records of marriages or divorces. Mundane stuff.”

”Anything unusual in it?” ”No,” Popova said. ”They didn't even work for the same companies.” ”Did they come to Armstrong at the same time?”

”The first group did. About five of them, during that initial missing period. But they didn't seem to hang out together, and they didn't seem to know one another.”

”Did they frequent the same places?” DeRicci asked.

”I haven't had enough time to look.” Popova tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear. Her hands were shaking.

She was clearly frustrated.