Eight #2
“My messages haven’t been getting through.
” She’s tried three times since yesterday morning, with the same result: undeliverable.
Martim’s changed or suspended his line, or he’s blocked her.
Maybe he’s been inundated and is avoiding everyone.
Or he simply doesn’t want to talk to her.
After their last conversation, she can’t blame him.
“Why do you want to reach him?” Garik asks.
“Was I just relicensed or not? I have a right to access the directory in service of my client and I don’t need to disclose my reasons.” Perhaps she sounds testy, but she experienced being blown apart by a grenade to get here, and she knows what she’s entitled to.
The Partners glance at one another, their expressions inscrutable.
She gets the distinct impression that they know exactly why she’s interested in SoCon GasPro.
They must be aware of Director Minto’s desire to keep Sandbar Uchi off the Board, but they won’t share whatever information they have with Isako.
To do so would be leaning on the scales, influencing the workings of the Company in favor of one client over another.
In accordance with the Code’s core principle of service without moral or political bias, the Agency maintains a position of ironclad confidentiality and neutrality.
It serves all divisions and directors equally.
It sets standards for training and licensing, upholds and enforces the Code, negotiates and ratifies all contracts involving longknivesfolk—and the Partners take a cut of every deal.
The more contractors they hire out, the more they make.
Isako will always be grateful to Constance as a mentor, and she understands the necessity of the Agency’s role, but it’s hard not to resent the fifty Partners who run the show.
Since they’re not officially members of the Company, they will never get synthbodies and a second stage of life, but just like directors, they wield power and influence at the highest levels and make decisions about life and death.
She could’ve been one of them. Constance brought up the possibility more than once, was willing to petition for her promotion, even after she signed with Greves.
Isako considered the option seriously but ultimately declined; she wasn’t keen on being a glorified personnel broker, trading in her own kind.
So she hitched her career to Astrocom’s fortunes, hoping to ride high and land softly, as she and Tai once planned.
Knowing what she knows now, if she could go back in time and make a different decision, take Constance’s offer and join her on the other side of the table, would she? Maybe. Probably.
No point dwelling. The way of the Vastness.
An uncomfortable minute of silence ensues before Constance raises a hand and signals.
A sliding door at the back of the room opens soundlessly and a ghostly pale aide in a black suit glides up to the table.
Constance gives whispered orders and the man retreats as if he were made of air, disappearing the way he arrived.
“You’ll receive the information you came for,” Constance says, turning back to Isako.
“And your reasons are between you and your client, as you said. But Dragonfly Martim appears to be a difficult man to find these days. His Principal contract was extended about a month ago, but he hasn’t been seen or heard from since. ”
So it’s not just her, then. No doubt Martim’s a sought-after man right now—stalked by the press, petitioned by Uchi’s allies, targeted by Uchi’s enemies. But it’s strange that he hasn’t been by his client’s side.
She wonders who else has been here to access the directory.
Not that Constance would reveal that information to her if she asked.
Protocol dictates that contractors use the directory when seeking a meeting.
It’s a safety precaution—to signal that their intentions are Code abiding—but also self-serving on the part of Agency leadership.
They want to know who’s talking to whom, and why.
Secrets, strife, interdivisional alliances and conflict are a boon to the Agency.
The Partners make it their business to know much and to reveal little, all the better to anticipate the shifting winds in the Company and to fish for more work.
“You’re walking into a storm, Isa.” Constance adjusts her scarf, as if for warmth.
“The fifth centennial’s brought about much soul-searching.
Terraformists and reunionists have had their differences for a long time, but they cooperated for the good of the Company.
Lately, though… Sandbar Uchi’s nomination and Forest Greves’s resignation have highlighted just how deep the divisions have become. ”
“The outcome of this year’s annual general meeting could change the direction of society for centuries.” Garik levels a warning frown. “Savannah Minto’s trying to tip the scales of power in her favor, but if she succeeds, the political upheaval could be disastrous.”
The aide in the black suit returns to the room, moving so silently that if Isako hadn’t already taken off the immersivisor, she might suspect he wasn’t a real person.
He comes around the table, and like a waiter at a gourmet restaurant delicately presenting the amuse-bouche, he sets a metal tray in front of her before retreating.
On the tray is her black badge and a tiny black envelope.
She returns the badge to its rightful place around her neck before picking up the envelope and opening it.
Inside is a creamy-white mulberry-paper business card, thick and pleasingly textured, shot through with tiny gold flecks.
On the card are a few small lines of text.
Dragonfly Martim, atier
Southern Continent Gas Production
Swan Peter Towers East #2031
ID# 724-533-808
Isako places the card back into its pristine black envelope and tucks it securely into her inside jacket pocket.
She leaves the visor and gloves on the table and stands, nodding goodbye to the Partners.
She doesn’t expect to come back here. Whether she’s successful at accomplishing Minto’s objective or not, at least she won’t have to go through relicensing ever again.
Thank Jesus Christ or Mother Sefa or whoever they used to worship here.
“Isa.” Constance’s expression is one that Isako can’t quite parse, despite having known the woman for decades. “If you find Martim, be wary. Your client is taking a considerable risk. If Sandbar Uchi is voted onto the Board, he won’t forget those who stood in his way.”
“That’ll be for Cloud Sherae to worry about.
” She’s eager to leave, but she regrets the terseness of her tone, just a little.
After all, she owes much of her career to her mentor, and this might be the last time they’ll see each other.
Isako relents a touch. “I appreciate the concern, Constance, but it’s unnecessary.
I’ll serve my client as the Code demands, but this is my last contract.
” She glances at Marsh Elias. “I’ve already asked for permission to resign, so you don’t have to worry. ”
The Ronin Killer answers languidly. “Worry hadn’t crossed my mind.”