The Barsoom Project

Chapter Thirty-Four

There were five of them seated in a horseshoe configuration in Harmony’s office.

Izumi and Sandy Khresla were at one side of the table. Harmony and Alex were on the other. Millicent Summers was there, and that was it. There was no need for anyone or anything else.

The office vidscreens played a multitude of images.

Down on the floor of Gaming A, the delegates were inspecting various bits of equipment, displays on the subject of Martian exploration and terraforming. From here, from this perspective, it looked like an army of ants. Alex found himself suffering from a peculiar emotional disconnection.

The game in Gaming B was nearing its conclusion. All nine of the Adventurers who remained alive were fleeing across an unstable ice field. Marty Bobbick helped Charlene Dula regain her feet. Ah-on her other side, a beefy guy named Orson gave a hand, helping her up even though Marty clearly didn’t need any help. Another complication. Ordinarily Alex would have smiled, but he just didn’t have one in him.

On the last screen were images of Kareem Fekesh’s offices, images taken by a camera with no metal parts, built into Alex’s briefcase, clicking along at a steady five frames a minute. Every inch of the trip was there, from the guard at the front door, to the shape, size, and position of the elevator and its internal decor, to the secretarial and executive offices, to the positions of fire exits and security cameras, to the office where Fekesh received visitors.

Izumi said, “We’ve seen everything but the inner office. We can map the shape of it by elimination. It’s not big. We’ve got the air system and the private elevator mapped, and magnetic fields gave us a sizable power lead and a sizable computer trunk, which implies a computer the size of a LapCray 20; and since there’s only one that size-”

“We’re nowhere near needing that,” Harmony snapped.

Fekesh’s face was very clear: smiling, taunting, unrepentant.

Millicent Summers watched Fekesh with a strange expression. Alex recognized it after a moment, and added jealousy to his list of debits against the man.

Harmony said, “So. What is your conclusion?”

Millicent seemed to shake herself out of a stupor and returned to the business at hand. “Based on what you’ve said and on what we know, we can be fairly sure that Fekesh had a major role in the death of a Dream Park employee, the indirect death of an-other, the maiming of several, and the corruption of at least one employee who may still be

… ah… employed here.” She stopped, and looked around. They all knew exactly what she meant.

“Do we have a legal case?”

“I’m afraid not. Not unless we can find the woman, it seems to be just one, who subverted the employee and recruited Tony McWhirter. She’s the link. Without her, we have nothing.”

Sandy Khresla spoke up. “Dammit, Griff-even if we find her, we can’t go to the cops. We’re guilty of obstructing justice.”

“You don’t mean he gets away with it?”

“We can’t even be sure he did it,” Millicent said grimly. “Or if he did, for how much he’s actually culpable. The term ‘plausible deniability’ was invented to cover situations like this. He may easily have made a bad call on which underlings to trust. He may have already dealt Out justice to them. We don’t know. And right now, he’s helped to put together the Barsoom Project. In a very real way, we have to consider him an ally.”

She paused for a moment. “On the other hand, four years ago, there was a major industrial accident at Colorado Steel, during a safety inspection, for Christ’s sake. Fekesh picked up a controlling interest at a bargain.”

“Hardly conclusive…” Harmony offered.

“ Aw, Thadeus!”

“But it does suggest a methodology. Alex, in this room he’s innocent until we prove him guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. Okay? We’re prejudiced. We know it. It doesn’t mean we can’t protect ourselves.”

Griffin brooded, staring at his fingers. He picked up a pencil and rolled it slowly, feeling its textures of wood and thin paint.

“Then,” he said slowly, “the way I see it, what we have to do is, first, protect Tony McWhirter. Get him into protective custody now. Reopen his case. Anything. I won’t have him killed. Second, find ‘Madeleine,’ if it is at all possible. She’s the link. Third, keep an eye on the Barsoom Project. Get Welles on it as soon as this chubby-Eskimo game is over. Something is going to happen there.” The pencil broke in his hand. “I can feel it.”

“Anything else?”

“Well, maybe there’s another link.” Griffin touched a button, and the tape Vail had made in Gaming B went on display. It carried a sidebar of physiological data.

Millicent looked sick.

Griffin cleared his throat. “Dr. Vail has already been reprimanded for this violation of privacy. It won’t alter his behavior much, I’d guess. And however distastefully this tape may have been obtained, we cannot ignore its implications. Any disagreement?”

There was no sound from around the table, except for the moment when Harmony softly muttered, “So. I did right.”

Griffin looked at Izumi. “Are all of the effects ready? Are you sure that you can pull this off?”

Izumi nodded cautiously. “The prosthetics are excellent. You’re risking her sanity, you know.”

“We’ll take every precaution. There’s just something I have to know. And after I do-” The half of a pencil splintered, leaving nothing but fragments.

“After I do, maybe we’ll have a few more options.”