The D’neeran Factor by Terry A. Adams

Author:Terry A. Adams [Adams, Terry A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781101635599
Publisher: Daw Books, Inc.
Published: 2013-07-01T16:00:00+00:00

I&S patiently turned over pebbles. All the project personnel had been investigated before; now they were screened again. Toward the end Vickery said to Jameson. “It’s just what you’d expect if there was nothing to it. We’re talking about an impossibility to begin with, you know.”

Gil Figueiredo, who had been in charge of security for the aliens since Rubee’s first incomprehensible call touched the edge of human space, sat in front of Vickery’s desk. Jameson stood at the outer edge of the room and looked at the river going on its peaceful way. Vickery’s office was on the lowest level of the fifty-story administration complex. The other forty-nine were heavy as a mountain overhead. You could walk through their passages for days and never find the place where you had started.

“We’re missing something.” Jameson said. “Is there, anywhere, another source for the program?”

“No,” Vickery and Figueiredo said together.

“There’s the Bird herself. She’s been studied.”

“Only the Inspace engineering,” Figueiredo said.

“Could anyone have gotten into the navigation computers that way, without breaking the seals?”

“No,” Figueiredo said positively.

Jameson stared across the water, where trees dreamed in the summer heat. The nights had gotten cooler, and the mass of green was softened by hints of gold. He said, “What I’d really like to do is get Kristofik under probe.”

Vickery said, “You’ve got him on the brain,” but Figueiredo laughed out loud and said, “That’s been the dearest wish of some people at I&S for fifteen years.”

Jameson’s tenure on the Coordinating Commission had given him a certain disregard for the law. He said, “There ought to be a way to do it.”

“Oh, it could be done. He doesn’t bother with personal security on Valentine. But we’ve never tried it because even if we probed him there, we couldn’t get him back to the Polity without creating a hell of an incident. If we couldn’t transport him for trial, there’s no point starting it. You remember his name didn’t surface for something like five years after the Pavonis Queen robbery, when he was already established on Valentine. There were talks then, and Valentine shut us down. And that was fifteen years ago. He’s an important citizen now.”

“He is also back on Valentine where he belongs,” Jameson said. “Perhaps we’ve gone wrong there instead. Perhaps he’s not the man we should be looking at.”

Figueiredo said impatiently, “You saw the reports on the other names. He’s the only one left.”

“It’s too neat.”

“All we have to deal with is known factors. That’s what the known factors give us.”

Jameson almost heard Hanna’s laughter. Figueiredo could not know what it was like to specialize in the unknown. Figueiredo added, “Don’t forget the Golden Girl. It fits.”

“What is that?” Vickery said a little wearily.

“Kristofik bought a yacht a few months ago. Dru class, beautiful thing. Six staterooms, two lounges, gymnasium, staff quarters. He refitted it and named it the Golden Girl. The color’s not really gold, though—more like brass.”

“Appropriate,” Jameson murmured, but Figueiredo went on, “He provisioned it for a long, long voyage.

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