The Resurrected Man (13 page)

“Is that possible? And if not,
why
not?”

“For the technical side of it, you'd have to ask QUALIA, but I'm told it's not an option.”

“QUALIA?”

“I monitor every transaction that passes through the KTI network,” the AI explained. “I would know if someone was transmitting data illegally from within.”

“How can you be so sure of that?”

“Because that is how I have been designed. My primary function is to oversee the operation of the network. Nothing passes through me without some sort of verification. To assume that something can bypass me is to assume that the network is fundamentally flawed. Diagnostic checks prove that this is not the case.”

Jonah imagined QUALIA as the spider at the centre of a web—a web comprising the KTI network and the larger Pool surrounding it, much as the EJC's GLITCH network also operated as a kind of trap for criminals with the help of the global network of supercomputers. Although the metaphor was a gross oversimplification, he felt it was fundamentally correct.

“Yet you can't trace the disposal transmissions. What does
this
suggest about your performance?”

Before QUALIA could respond, Marylin broke in.

“We've looked at this before, Jonah,” she said. “QUALIA can give
you the files to browse through later, but you'll save time if you just take our word for it.”

He quashed an automatic protest. She was probably right. While it was dangerous to accept a claim without seeing the evidence supporting it, he did have a lot to catch up on.

“Okay, then,” he said. “Do you have something else you want to talk about?”

She hesitated. “How about why we found you in the first place?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why now? Why here?”

“You don't think it's coincidence?”

“No. It's too unlikely. If we can work out why you were given to us the closer we'll be to knowing what the Twinmaker wants.”

“I'd have thought
that
was fairly obvious: he wants to kill women who look like you.”

“But
why?
What are his motivations, his fears, his triggers?”

“I don't know. Profiling isn't my strong point.”

“No, but you're good at teasing relevance out of superfluity. Isn't that what you used to say?”

“Never believe everything you hear.” He grimaced; everything seemed superfluous. “You've had time to dig out my UGI and alert GLITCH. Have there been any recent hits?”

“Not yet.”

“He knows you've found me, then, and must've gone to ground. That's something we can say. Maybe he turned me in because he's finished what he set out to do.”

“No more murders?” Fassini asked.

“As I said—maybe.”

“I doubt it,” Marylin said. “The crimes are escalating rather than diminishing in violence. The first victims had their throats cut and their bodies were mutilated after death. Now we see evidence of extensive torture prior to death; that's not a sign he's about to give in.”

“Or self-destruct.” Jonah mentally clicked his tongue. “Still, he knows what you're doing. He's watching you try to find him and enjoying the fact that you haven't.”

“Yet
.”

“He's confident you won't.”

“He has some reason to be confident. All the information we have is distracting. He
wants
us to get caught up in the details. That way we'll miss the big picture—the why, the how, and ultimately, the who. I'm not saying we should ignore the victims. They're carefully chosen, murdered and disposed of with precision, and that precision tells something about the way the killer works. But it's the seemingly peripheral information that's potentially more telling: the WHOLE leaflets, the placement of the bodies, you.”

“And the address of the node,” he said.

“The node? How does that fit in?”

“Acheron
is the ancient Greek name for Hell.”

“You think it's important?”

“I don't know. But who's to say it isn't?”

“I thought you didn't believe in hunches.”

“I didn't say it was one. It's just—I'm still not thinking straight, not consistently. Sometimes I have to work backwards through the alphabet to see how I got from A to Z.”

“I'm like that most mornings,” Fassini commented.

“So the fact that the killer knows a bit about Greek mythology,” Marylin said, “might not be relevant at all.”

“That's true,” he admitted.

“Maybe ACHERON's a place,” said Fassini. “Wherever he's gone to ground.”

“It could be in one of the isolationist states,” she mused. “GLITCH isn't as pervasive in Quebec, say, as it is here.”

“Another WHOLE connection then,” Jonah said. “But surely hacking into KTI would be even more difficult from somewhere like that?”

“Maybe. If no one else dies, then that would explain why.”

“True. Or he really has called it a day.”

“It's a big ‘if,' though,” said Fassini.

“And it still doesn't get us very far.” Marylin shook her head. “We'll need more than this to convince the big three to keep you on the payroll.”

He nodded, then remembered that she couldn't see the gesture. He doubted she shared the same short-term goal as the “big three,” whoever they were. One of them was probably Herold Verstegen, eavesdropping on the VTC at that very moment. Jonah knew that even if he asked her outright what she thought about speaking with him again, she would very likely fudge the truth to ensure she sounded professional. He had no doubts she wasn't impressed.

But he couldn't let that bother him. The exertion of thought—of thinking like an MIU officer in particular—was taking a high toll as it was. He felt lightheaded and tired, all too ready to return to the gentle blackness of the hibernation he could not remember.

“Have you had any other hunches?” she prompted.

He considered the question carefully. “Just one: I'll bet QUALIA's wrong.”

“About what?”

“About there being no way to send a transmission from within KTI.”

“Hang on.” Fassini raised a hand. “If ACHERON is the source of the transmissions, how can it be inside KTI and outside at the same time?”

“ACHERON could still be part of KTI,” Jonah responded, “an isolated sub-branch or something. Or the killer could be bouncing the transmission out of KTI then back in by this external node, wherever it is. Whichever way he's doing it, it'd surely be easier than hacking in entirely from the outside. That'd require security breaks in a dozen places, right along the line. It's not feasible that so many would have been unnoticed.”

“But not impossible,” Marylin said.

“No. Just more unlikely than the alternative.”

“Which
is
impossible,” said QUALIA.

“So you say,” Jonah countered.

“I am not mistaken,” the AI stated, “and, before you ask, I would never lie.”

“Never?”

“I do possess the capacity to utter falsehoods—when a falsehood will cause less harm than the truth, for instance, or when security would otherwise be compromised. I could not, however, lie to abet a murderer.”

Jonah pondered this.

“What if you were unaware that he or she
was
committing a murder?” he asked.

“I would know.”

“How?”

“I can state with absolute certainty that since my activation there have been no unorthodox uses of the KTI d-mat network that I have not personally supervised. In each case, nothing illegal was accomplished as a result.”

“So there
have
been unorthodox uses?” Jonah seized the admission with a feeling akin to triumph—albeit a small one. “What sort, and when?”

“I am not at liberty to tell you. The details of each are recorded in an archive accessible only with Director Schumacher's personal authorisation.”

“Why did they take place, then?”

“For research purposes.”

“Research into what?”

“That also is restricted information.”

“I thought it might be.”

“Would you like me to ask Director Schumacher if he will allow you to view the contents of the archive?”

“Do you think he'll say yes?”

“I am in no position to predict Director Schumacher's likely behaviour in this instance.”

“And I guess that means no. It's probably not worth the effort.” Jonah paused, then added: “But on second thoughts, yes, do ask him. I'll be interested to see if he does give us permission—or
doesn't.
”

Marylin's voice was shocked. “Jonah, you don't think—”

“Why not? Has he been investigated?”

“Yes, of course. Everyone has. He's clear.”

“I don't think we can rule him out entirely. He could be part of a conspiracy, at least. Whatever's going on in KTI, it'd be much easier to cover up from above.”

“That's insane,” she countered. “Worse—it's paranoid. Why would he actively assist someone whose actions threaten everything he's built? He's
Schumacher
, for Christ's sake.”

“So? Is that any different from accusing
me
of the murders?”

“You know it is. You had both motive and opportunity, if not the actual means. Schumacher, on the other hand, has a strong motive
not
to do it, which cancels out the means. Don't you see how crazy you're sounding?”

“No. Personally, I think I'm being open-minded.”

“Look,” she said, opening windows in her workspace as she talked, “if you want evidence, I can show you the alibis of every senior KTI and MIU employee for the times the Twinmaker has been active.”

“Can you really?”

“Of course. It's the first place we looked.”

He wanted to believe her, but he couldn't afford to let himself.
Take nothing for granted.
It was good advice in all spheres of life, not just relaying.

“Give me the files,” he said. “I'll check them later. Until then, I'll take your word on it.”

“That's very generous of you.”

He almost smiled; in some ways, sarcasm was easier to deal with than her cold professionalism. “Don't mention it.”

Through her eyes, her workspace organised the data-transfer while, in the background, the urbane landscape of Houston slid by. Fassini checked his watch and looked ahead.

“We're almost there,” he said.

“The EJC?” Marylin's voice was surprised; she had obviously been paying as little attention to her surroundings as Jonah.

“A couple of minutes.”

“We should wrap this up, then. I have a few things I need to do without Jonah looking over my shoulder, and we'll be blacked-out in transit anyway. Is that okay with you, Odi?”

Whitesmith's voice intruded gently from nowhere. “Fine with us. Jonah?”

He was surprised he had a choice. “Whatever you say.” He hoped his relief didn't show.

Her viewpoint shifted. “I'd like to take a look at the
Faux
Sydney site again while the scene is fresh.”

“Understood,” Whitesmith said. “We can link up again when you arrive.”

“Wait,” said Jonah. “Are you talking about my unit? I thought you didn't find anything there.”

“Apart from the body,” put in Fassini. “And you.”

Marylin ignored her partner. “Just because we haven't found anything doesn't mean we won't. Do you have a problem with that?”

“No, I just can't see what good having me along will do. It's a job for forensics, surely.”

“The spider is good at telling us what's present at a scene, but when it's unfamiliar with the environment it's no good at picking up absences. Only you can tell us if something is missing.”

“You think there might be?”

“You never know. And it certainly won't hurt to check.”

“That makes sense, I suppose.” He tried not to sound resistant, but there was no concealing his discomfort at the idea. There were too
many memories and issues still unresolved. He felt as though a long-forgotten past was waiting to suffocate him.

“What's the matter, then?” she said, her tone suspicious. “You don't sound happy about this.”

“You think I should be overjoyed?”

“I'm not asking for the Hallelujah Chorus—”

“Well, lighten up, then. This isn't as easy as it used to be.”

“No one said it would be.”

“For either of us.”

“What's
that
supposed to mean?”

“You know damn well. If you'd only—” He stopped, swallowed what he'd been about to say.
Avoid the past.

“Easy, you two.” Fassini waved a hand in front of Marylin's eyes, making both her and Jonah blink in surprise. “We don't want any
bolhai
, remember?”

The half-amused expression on Fassini's face made Jonah's irritation flare into anger.
Watch it
, he told himself, but it was already too late; he needed to lash out at someone, to earth the resentment crackling within him. “Tell him to speak English, for fuck's sake,” he snapped.

“He can hear you perfectly well.” Marylin took a deep breath. “And you're right, Jason. I'm sorry.”

“I'm not.” Jonah's body twitched of its own accord but he hardly noticed. “Neither of us likes doing this, so why pretend?”

She shook her head firmly. “I'm not going to discuss this now, Jonah.”

“Better now than never.”

“No. It's not relevant.”

“Crap. It's as relevant as it ever was.”

“You're only trying to intimidate me.”

“So what's new?”

Marylin pulled a mirror down from the ceiling of the car. For the first time in the VTC, he was able to see her face properly.

“Don't try to use my feelings against me, Jonah,” she said, her eyes fixed on his. “It's not going to work.”

He heard the missing clause as clearly as if she'd spoken the words aloud:
this time.
The sudden sharpness of her tone both startled and dismayed him. He was appalled by how easily his barely healed wounds, if they had healed at all, were reopened.