The Burning Crown (Stone Blade Book 4) (18 page)

"Second, he's also worried about the possibility of losing a nice, juicy contract. That might happen if he steps too cautiously. Losing that scale of potential profit doesn't look good on a resume, nor would it earn him any points with his House. Finally, given the second case, he's worried about how much he can scrape off for himself above and beyond our kickback. That's three mutually exclusive and troublesome worries."

"Flames," said Thompson, "The stape just nerved me out."

"I've trained, sweet apprentice," she winked, lighting a 'stick, "Now Podwell. He has all of Dermot's worries plus a couple more. He's supervising a contentious group of businesses from an equally fractious group of Houses, so he has to keep them in line. We could be agents from any one of them, making sure he's operating properly.

"More specifically, we could be Hallings agents. There are three House Hallings subcontractors. Officially they're competing but they don't really overlap that much. Hallings is also placed, as you noted, in overall management. House Hallings itself would love to see him deposed as CEO and any of its Lithigrove agencies would receive major points for making that happen.

"We might also be agents from a Hallings ally, looking to bring him down and strengthen our alliance. In that orbit we might be agents from Toms-Watt or one of its allies, working on an internal investigation. Finally, we might even be Brightcrown agents just making sure everyone working with them stays on the beam."

"Ouch," said Thompson, holding his head and reaching for chog.

"But that's not a bad thing, lover. In addition to all of that, Dermot lifted himself above our suspicions."

Thompson moved his fingers just long enough to lift an eyebrow. "Howso?"

"Primarily because no House Hallings company had anything to do, directly, with any of the parts that failed."

Thompson growled, deep in his throat.

"Phase down, now," she continued, "Secondly, because Dermot is cutting curves and corners he will be plus-plus careful to cover his assets. Anything that leads to him, directly or indirectly, will not fail under ordinary or predictably extraordinary circumstances. Certainly not dangerously so. He's making a nice chunk of credits and he doesn't want to jeopardize that."

"Slib," said Thompson, "Given that, isn't it possible that the defective parts are simply a matter of someone over-skimming? Maybe cutting that one curve that shouldn't be touched?"

"Possible, but very low-sigma. All the parts from Lithigrove, including the ones that failed, are certified above spec. Some companies do that, along with acceptance of liability, in order to relax the subsequent quality control inspections and associated paperwork. That means more revenue for the manufacturer, provided they really are producing at elevated spec.

"In the case of over-skimming, the company would certify its product at spec, officially regret any units that failed to meet standard and produce higher-quality units until the scrutiny cooled. There would be no over-spec production, that's loss of revenue, and certainly no extra liability. They would also want the units to fail QC rather than under deployment. It's really bad for business if your product fails and injures or kills someone, especially soldiers or sailors.

"Finally, there's the failure rate itself. Lanniver sets its tolerance interval as wide as possible given League Contract requirements to allow itself more latitude in choosing subcontractors. They compensate for that with internal QC and the units that failed didn't fail that."

"But some units are expected to fail," said Thompson.

"Truth. Guild Techs calculate the expected failure rate and Lanniver bases its requirement on that. When more fail than should, they contact the contractor. When lots more fail, that's when they call us. Don't forget, we're not concentrating on ordinary failures."

He nodded. "Slib. Now tell me how Quinby fits into all of this."

"Quinby absolutely did not want Guild scrutiny. All that blather about ethics is platinum and polar orbits, but doing business with us would necessarily increase Catonatta's visibility and he six-sigmas wanted to avoid that.

"Suppose, being charitable, that Quinby himself believed everything he said. That doesn't mean someone else isn't using him or his House reputation to cover their corruption. For truth, I'm starting to suspect the Great and Noble House of Brightcrown just might not be what it seems. In any case, Catonatta is now the primary focus of my suspicion."

"So we call in the auditors now?"

"Not yet, love. Let's see what else we can find first."

Chapter 10. Night of Deception

Karr stared at the terminal with equal parts amazement, disbelief, appreciation and disgust.

"That simple," said Blue, "That bloody simple! But to what end? It seems pointless."

"But it isn't, m'lady. It can't be. It happened far too often to be mere coincidence, therefore we must conclude that it is not. With the others I might consider it but even that is stretching the laws of statistics. They do not stretch well."

It took Worthington surprisingly little time to acquire the voided manifests they wanted. It took even less time to form the correlates. The result: House Brightcrown had purchased an incredible amount of merchandise from loss-recoveries associated with House Varl, House Binkor-Sud, House Imix and a host of their allies. A significant number of those came from Fallstar Lines or another company with large outstanding debt with Binkor-Sud or Varl. The suspicious recoveries were intermingled with enough others to cover any local suspicion and they were also more-or-less evenly dispersed across a large number of Crown worlds.

"It almost looks like Varl is trying to drain Brightcrown of cash, to lock up their ready credits and force them to liquefy other assets." Blue puzzled over this. "If Brightcrown wanted to purchase at this quantity they could do so in bulk and receive a commensurate discount for it, but this is not an efficient drain technique. The actual credit amounts aren't that much and Varl would have to keep this up for several centuries to make a noticeable difference. Even they aren't that patient."

"I concur, m'lady. There is no pattern here save that over half the recovered merchandise is heavy industrial equipment or supplies. Might there be something there?"

"Nothing but a higher credit-density," she replied, absently lighting a 'stick, "It's also less volatile in price, so the amount lost can be considered constant. Do you think they are trying to slowly drain Brightcrown's wealth?"

"What I think, m'lady, is that we should plan a trip to Fallstar," said Karr, helping himself to a 'stick, "We know Parl had some interest in the place. For myself, I should like to know, unequivocally, exactly how much of this merchandise touched the ground there or passed through the place. Most especially those items that should have made a shorter trip."

Blue nodded. "I'll arrange it. We'll be there quickly and without notice."

***

"The Fallstar agents have reported," said Adrian Mooke.

"Anything of interest?" Tobart didn't expect anything but as a rule he overlooked nothing, whether potential threat or source of information.

"Fadding's lapcat Outremin made an appearance at the base." Mooke carefully did not reveal anything more of that than absolutely necessary! "He told Kenjai most of what Fadding told you. That was mostly that we should mind our stitching and not worry, that he and his Laird had matters well to hand. He also mentioned Outremin's newest acquisition. Kenjai said that man put him on edge."

"A chirping beetle puts Kenjai on edge," said Tobart, "Anything on Outremin himself?"

"Just that he takes lack of concern to an art form. According to Kenjai the current level of production is close to putting a strain on the facility and the personnel. He mentioned that to Outremin and he dismissed it out of hand. Dismissed it! He acts as though production is of no consequence whatsoever."

"To him it is not," said Tobart, "He and Fadding have that in common. Profit, to them, is of little moment. We must stand firm, which is to say I must. When production does begin to strain we shall decrease it to a sane level and hold fast there. Fadding will not like it but I will not risk our mission foolishly. He will accept it after his banal grumbling. I shall speak to our contacts in the other Houses to make certain of it."

Mooke nodded. He didn't mind risk but foolishness grated his patience raw.

***

"I don't like this," said Thompson.

"I know this, my dear," said Kidwell, "That doesn't change a thing. What are your instructions?"

"Wait here until you return," he said with exasperation, "Monitor the comm for the emergency signal and watch for suspicious arrivals."

"If I don't return, if I send the emergency signal or if the authorities arrive in force?"

"I can get you out and..."

"I said 'If not,' John!"

"I am to take the datacube you gave me to the address I'm not to check until I'm safely in link to Azure. I am to hold myself ready for instructions or debriefing there. Unless I am ordered specifically otherwise I am to return to my commanding officer." He said that through clenched teeth.

"And?"

"And I am to complete my career. I am not to mention you, Stone or Protocol. Burnit!!"

"That's better, lover." She offered a tight smile. "I'm not planning on being caught, John, but if I am then it is critical that the information on that cube reaches... friends. I promise you I'll be totally polar and there's no need for you to go to prison over this, nor take a reprimand on your record for it."

Thompson muttered something but Kidwell didn't catch most of it.

"Just stick with the plan," she said, "We'll be chugging chocolate chog before the night's done."

***

Kidwell approached the Lithigrove building with the mien of someone with no extraordinary cares in the world. A small crowd milled around the service entrance with some exiting for a quick snack or drugstick and others entering after having such, or for the first time. The people there formed small cliques with several such pointedly ignoring selected others. Kidwell observed these carefully since they formed an important key in her plan. Since Lithigrove involved multiple Houses, all with some antipathy toward one or more others, each subcontractor employed its own staff for cleaning, maintenance and similar services.

As she approached the door Kidwell scowled at several cliques, none of whom recognized her, and swapped friendly words with three or four others. A Brightcrown guard sat alertly at the security station and watched the folks entering and leaving. Kidwell offered him a neutral non-frown and slid her card into the doorway. It flashed red and the guard's gaze turned suspicious. Scowling, she tried again and failed. Her comm beeped before the guard could rise so she stepped back, let the crowd flow pass her by and answered the comm.

"I don't care, Johnny," she said sharply, "I told you I have to work tonight. We both like a roof over our heads and food on the table and obviously you can't provide either. No!" She scowled very sharply, not directly at the guard but not far from him. "Slib. I'm sorry... Listen, baby, I'm sorry. I'm sorry! I didn't mean to upset you but with your condition you know you can't work, not right now. I know, sweetheart, me too. No. Absolutely not. Johnny..."

Several others had trouble with the portal. Their cards finally flashed green and the guard keyed something into his terminal. He frowned at the display, typed on it a moment then powered it down. People still had problems with their cards but at least the number who did shrank.

"Listen, Johnny. We'll talk about it when I go off shift," continued Kidwell, "I will. I will, baby. You know I love you, too, but it has to be this way. No! Don't..." Kidwell looked at the comm, switched it off and swore almost under her breath.

The guard offered her a sympathetic smile which she returned briefly. She opened her mouth to speak but visibly decided against it. This time when she tried her card the door flashed green and opened.

Upon passing through the portal Kidwell wanted to heave a sigh of relief but didn't. She did cast a silent thanks spaceward with Ferrel's name on it. The card she used to enter the building had a small but efficient thermal worm on it along with her fictitious information. This evening's logs would report numerous anomalies, one of which fit her forged credentials. She'd delete it later if she had sufficient time, but only if. The holocasters also had facials but she had inserts in her cheeks to handle those, so no worries there either. She wore a pair of standard coveralls similar to at least a dozen others and she carried a case identical to even more.

After a brief search disguised as a purposeful walk she found an open data closet with a cleaning crew busy inside. She attached a diagnostic datapad to the comm rack without a word to the others and began working it. Two of the others wondered about her but she pointedly ignored them. A hissed word about their House's chief rival and a stiffening of her shoulders sealed the matter. She now effectively had the closet to herself. She made note of their House but ignored the rest of the conversation. When the cleaners finished they left with a rude joke which she again visibly ignored.

Compromising the building's main net took her longer than it would Ferrel but she managed. After the first few minutes her card would open any lock in the building. Minus any isolated internal alarms which she would handle as required. Not a bad accomplishment, she thought, but not a long-lived one either. She locked the now-clean closet and headed to one the next floor up.

This time Kidwell exchanged pleasantries with a team cleaning a nearby office when she jacked in. The datapad beeped before the conversation deepened past her knowledge, and one girl who looked barely in her teens snapped a quip.

"Only if they paid me enough," said Kidwell, "and never with a Watt!"

That elicited several chuckles and the others left her to her work. Once again she made note of the House references. She had a list of specific item invoice transactions, both from Ionoski's data and her own research. She squirted in a set of queries she'd prepared earlier, each keyed with a random delay so they all wouldn't hit at once.