The Administration Series (193 page)

'In the current climate' meaning, amongst other things, while I&I was out of commission. Something he hadn't thought of, and which he ought to have done. "Is it a serious risk?" He headed for the kitchen, and McLean followed him.

"Well, that depends on how you measure it. The absolute danger is small. But from SimTech's point of view any threat to Doctor Warrick is serious, and worth paying for the security to reduce to as close to zero as possible. He's worth a lot of money to us." He paused, then shook his head. "I'm sorry. That sounded rather cold-blooded, but it's true. In lots of ways, he's absolutely vital to the company."

Toreth must have been more tired than he'd realised, because as he opened the fridge he caught himself thinking 'and to me'.

Christ, he
did
need a fuck.

Carnac was good at not listening. It was an approach based on the general truth that most people only want to listen to themselves; all that was required to make them happy was to sit and nod, making agreeable noises, until they had talked themselves to a standstill. At that point, if one simply told them what they were going to do, nine times out of ten they would agree and think it had been their idea in the first place, since you had listened to them so carefully.

He'd expected this conversation with Major Bell ever since Toreth had arrived in the building. As it was, it had taken until the third day after Toreth took up his new duties. Of course, Bell had been regrettably called away from I&I for the first two days; she wasn't the only one with friends at headquarters.

Carnac had come to I&I with a detailed, well laid-out plan — that was his greatest strength. In the normal way of things, he worked at a distance, analysing and preparing, and leaving the interpretation of his reports and the execution of his schemes to be bungled by others. The current task was different, and he enjoyed the variety it offered, even though his tolerance for dealing with his subjects in person was not an infinite resource.

Bell hadn't been part of his original plan, but on discovering her here, he had been obliged to work her into it. She had her own petty agenda, naturally, but it was of no importance or interest to him. As far as his own plans went, she had proved to be moderately useful so far — she acted as a minor distraction and irritant to Toreth, spurring him on in his efforts on behalf of I&I.

Not that Toreth hadn't proved himself up to the task in hand without Bell's intervention. However, with Toreth it was a good idea to provide opposition and secondary motives for him to uncover, both of which the major supplied in abundance.

The major talked a great deal, and said little. Without a doubt, she had missed her calling in life — law would have suited her a great deal better than the Service. However, she had a politician's mind that would assuredly see her in the senior ranks at the end of her career, if no one had felt compelled to plant a knife in her back before then.

He'd been looking at the insignia on the major's uniform as the woman talked. Now, at a suitable pause in the non-conversation, he lifted his gaze and looked her directly in the eye.

"Are you questioning the fundamental correctness of the decision to maintain I&I?"

Bell looked startled. "No, of course not. It's a dirty job, but it has to be done."

No, it doesn't, and if people like you could see that, things never would have come to this.

"Then what, precisely, is your problem?" he asked.

"The senior para-investigator you've placed in charge. Whether you are aware of it or not, he's riding roughshod over my instructions, and refusing to acknowledge my authority."

Careless of her. He smiled gently. "Authority?"

There was a pause, then the major said, "I am well aware that I have no
official
authority here, at least not over the I&I staff."

Implying, 'but over the Service I do'. Not insignificant, since the Service currently made up a substantial minority portion of the occupants of the building. That was partly his own fault — it had been, he acknowledged, a gamble that had failed to pay off. Now he had to work round the consequences.

"I do regret that my choice of deputy has caused you inconvenience. However, I appointed him based on my instructions from the new Administrative Council, with which you are familiar. Do you have any specific instances where he has acted against those instructions?"

She hesitated. "I've been away from the building. But he has removed Service personnel from the posts to which I appointed them, without consultation. And he seems to feel that he can commandeer the services of my people without bothering to seek permission."

"And have those incidents harmed I&I in any way?"

"They . . . not directly, perhaps, no. But they are contrary to discipline and good order."

"His manner can be a little abrasive, I grant you. I'll ask him to moderate it and respect your authority over the Service personnel here." Not that it would have any positive result, but it would annoy Toreth delightfully. "In return, I would ask you to remember that I&I is not part of the Service, and has never been."

As he'd expected, that drew a sharp glance. He kept his expression neutral, and after a moment she nodded reluctantly. "I'll agree that culture clash may be responsible for
some
of the problems."

"Indeed it is. Consequently we must all practise a degree of understanding and tolerance. For the good of the new Administration." Carnac touched the comm. "Send Lieutenant Payne in here, please."

He turned back to Bell and smiled again. She seemed to be learning, because she looked at him warily.

"Despite your apparent conviction that I am permitting Toreth to create havoc unsupervised, I asked Lieutenant Payne to keep an eye on him. To assess his suitability for the post from, as it were, a position of closer contact."

The major frowned. "I wasn't told about that."

"No. Ah, lieutenant. Come in."

Payne glanced between them, professional caution evident. "Yes, sir." He stopped at the indicated place, saluted, and waited.

"Lieutenant Payne. I would like your impressions of Senior Para-investigator Toreth."

"He's a capable and dedicated officer, sir."

Bell sneered silently at the word 'officer'. Carnac ignored her. "Expand on that, if you would be so kind."

"He places the execution of his orders above all other considerations. In the time I've spent with him, I've never seen anything to suggest that the restoration of I&I services isn't his highest priority."

"Do you think he's suited to the job? Capable of it?"

Payne tried to glance at Bell, but Carnac had carefully positioned him so as to make cueing impossible. In the end, the man nodded. "Yes, sir. In my opinion."

"In your opinion, of course. Thank you. Major, do you have any questions?"

"No."

"You may go, Payne."

Carnac hoped the lieutenant didn't catch the glare Bell sent in his direction as he left.

"Major?"

"In
my
opinion, Toreth is dangerous, and a potential troublemaker."

Well, at least her judgement was sound. "I am not interested in your personal assessment of his character. I am interested in what you will say to your superiors about his ability to execute the task in hand — the restoration of I&I to full function. I'm sure that's how the question will be phrased when you speak to them. Well, major?"

"In that regard, his performance is adequate, yes." There was no other reply possible.

"Excellent."

Carnac waited until the door had closed behind the major before he allowed himself a smile. Really, she ought to have spoken to the Council first, rather than approached him, but she didn't want to appear incapable of handling the situation. She was ambitious, and not unintelligent, but she was no match for him. In due course he would get rid of her, but for now she would do very well.

Toreth's day had not so far gone well. The medical unit was filled far beyond capacity, with staffing levels that would have struggled to handle a normal work load. The plan to move injured investigators and support staff to outside hospitals kept coming up against the stumbling block that they too were badly over-stretched. To compound the problem further, medical supplies were low and deliveries fitful and inadequate.

Similar difficulties beset the restoration of all the other services. After a morning of listening to a string of problems he could do nothing to resolve, Toreth cancelled his remaining appointments, switched off his comm, and settled down in his office to work out some alternative plans.

Behind every problem, large and small, was the lack of people to do what needed to be done. So, he first had to find his missing staff.

It should have been easy to tell who was present and who not when the building was attacked, but the security logs had been lost in the general chaos. Nor were there complete records of the support staff released once Carnac had taken control.

Some of the missing hadn't been in work on the day of the takeover, and hadn't called in since, like B-C and Nagra. They were presumed to be in hiding somewhere, although records of lynchings were still slowly filtering over from Justice — the upheaval had turned Justice's normally torpid information processing into something best measured in geological time. Justice had suffered some damage during the revolt, although reports had them far better off than I&I.

For one thing, no one had imprisoned a substantial portion of their surviving officers.

At I&I, the task of identifying bodies was proceeding far too slowly, because — once more — there weren't the people to do it. It was a vicious circular problem: they needed more staff, so that they could get more staff. Even if it meant efforts suffering in the short term, he needed to reallocate resources so that they could spare the necessary personnel to track people down. The trick would be doing it with the least damage possible.

He'd been working for an hour, and was beginning to make some progress, when he heard the door open then close. Toreth didn't look up. "Sara, I told you I wanted some peace and quiet. Whatever it is it will have to — "

"I'm afraid I talked my way past her."

Startled, he looked up. Warrick stood by his desk, smiling at his surprise.

"Warrick? What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Well, that makes me feel welcome, I must say. Shall I go?"

"No, I didn't mean it like that." With his own late nights here, and the curfew trapping Warrick at SimTech, seeing him anywhere was a pleasure. Although Warrick didn't look as if he was serious about going. In fact, he looked rather —

The thought vanished as Warrick leaned down and kissed him firmly.

"Mmf?"

Warrick pulled back. "I beg your pardon?"

"What was that?"

"A kiss. I'm surprised you've forgotten what one feels like in just three days."

"No, I know what it was, but — " What the hell are you doing here, in the middle of the day, in my office, in a building you hate, acting like you're in charge? However, if he said it, Warrick might go. So he shut up and sat back.

Warrick smiled again. "Good." He started to strip, briskly. "As a matter of fact, I came here to see Carnac. It seemed a pity to waste my contact within the new Administration, so I asked him to assist in obtaining curfew permits for a few key SimTech personnel. It's going to take him a little time to finalise all the approvals, so I thought that, since I was in the building anyway, I might as well come and see you." Warrick's shirt joined the rest of his clothes in the neat pile, leaving him completely nude. "I hope you don't mind?"

At some point during the explanation, Toreth had lost the power of speech. He settled for shaking his head.

"Excellent." Warrick opened the top drawer of his desk, rummaged through the contents, and produced a tub of hand cream. "I thought I remembered that you kept something suitable in there."

He straddled Toreth's thighs and sat, facing him, reading the label. "Mm. Hypoallergenic, unscented, dermatologically tested." One eyebrow arched. "How very convenient."

That was, Toreth felt, a touch unfair. He
did
use the cream for its intended purpose, because the over-processed air down in the interrogation levels was extremely drying and the gloves made his skin . . . but Warrick didn't look as if he'd be in the least bit interested.

"Hold this. Thank you." Warrick gave him the jar, and turned his attention downwards, unfastening Toreth's clothes with the same concentrated efficiency. Toreth watched, still speechless but admiring the contrast of Warrick's pale skin against the black of his own uniform.

Next Warrick opened the lid of the jar, took out a generous portion and smoothed it between his palms. "Mm. Very nice."

He reached down and began massaging Toreth's cock, long slow strokes that rather distracted him from Warrick's monologue. "But then I assume it cost a fortune. Even Dilly spends less on her skin than you do. I suppose I ought not to complain, since the end result is so appealing. Vain, but irresistible."

Leaning down, Warrick kissed him again. Toreth opened his mouth to him, unresisting, letting him do whatever he wanted. At any moment, he thought vaguely, he was going to wake up at his desk and find he'd missed an important meeting. But if he had dreams this vivid, this hot, then he'd never bother getting out of bed to come to work in the first place.