BOOK 2: COMMUNITY / CH. 7: OBLIGATIONS

Sarah returned to the meeting room.

“Everything OK?” asked Kate

“I think so. He just tripped over a silly idea he'd been running away with.”

“Ah. And you think you solved it with your usual tact and gentleness?” she managed with a straight face.

“You think I offered to mash him into the ground if he ever dared to think such a silly thing again? Of course!”

“Do you have a little brother?” Teresa asked.

“No, why?”

“You seem to have a good grasp of practical psychology as applicable to the male of the species.”

“Hey!” George objected, looking up from the security forms he was answering, “Do I get a vote here? Why does Sarah need to threaten to hurt John in order to help him?”

“You tell me, George,” Karen asked. “How better can Sarah get his attention?”

“Urm. She could try reason, or threaten not to kiss him.”

“Faulty reasoning was his problem. No kisses sometimes works, but then I suffer too and in this case that wasn't appropriate. Threatening to throw him on the floor and jump up and down on him seemed much more likely to work. He knows I could probably do the first bit, the second just adds spice.”

“Really?” Karen asked in amazement.

“I'm not black belt. Quite.”

“George,” Kate explained, “the aim is not to hurt anyone, merely to make him aware how seriously Sarah takes it. From Sarah's reaction, I'd guess he offered to call off the wedding, again.”

“Did you peek, Kate?” John asked, coming in.

“No! I'm just getting used to Sarah's threat scale.”

“It's not a good idea to threaten my hope of married bliss,” Sarah said, grabbing John's hand, and holding it possessively as he entered. [Conversation about why I'd threaten you, beloved. Nothing about what I found, except you'd tripped over a silly idea. George is worried about the violence and thinks reason might have worked.]

“George, don't worry. Sarah's just protecting me from myself. She's good at it. I get unreasonable sometimes, and then she needs to use a bit of reinforcement to get the message across.”

“OK, urm, it's just that I've lived in a violent home, and I don't like it one bit, not even threats.”

[I'll remember that, George,] Karen reassured him.

[Thanks, Karen. {love}]

“Maria?” George asked. “Changing the subject, what do Karen and I do about our homes? I mean once my front door is replaced and Karen‘s changed her I.D. Do we assume we're safe now, or do we need to move house?”

“Karen will need to move. No question there. You should think of it too, I guess. My brother might be in jail, but he could still arrange a kidnapping attempt or some other attack. If you're willing to be a witness against him, then certainly.”

“Oh, I'm willing.”

“I've got a spare room Karen could have,” Sarah offered, “and I was wondering what to do with my house once we're married.”

“I thought we'd be living there?” John said, confused.

“OK, so we've obviously got to have a conversation or three about that,” Sarah laughed, “but between us we're going to have a spare house in about three weeks. Right now, mine looks much more like a student house and I'm sure it has far better security.”

“Has the system been upgraded?” Maria asked.

“I don't think so.”

“Oh well, top of the line just over a decade ago is still very very good. I helped specify it,” she explained.

“I hadn't noticed anything special about your security system, Sarah,” John said.

“Clever, isn't it? Very discrete,” she agreed.

“So, urm, what's special about it?” John asked curiously.

“Well, it doesn't do sleep gas,” Sarah started, but was interrupted.

“Actually...” Maria corrected, “if there's a break-in or a known criminal crops up on the cameras then it'll trigger an alert at police HQ and offer them the option of releasing gas. So while it doesn't do autonomous release of sleep gas, it has the next best thing.”

“Wow,” Karen said, “that's far higher specification security than my old place, isn't it?”

“Yes, dear. You don't keep as many diamonds in your cupboards as Sarah's daddy did.”

“He let me look at them sometimes,” Sarah reminisced. “They were so pretty.”

George's eyes had been growing bigger and bigger as he listened to this conversation.

“Your house looks like a student house but has a top flight security system and your father used to let you look at his diamond collection? I don't understand. What happened?”

“The Clear Sky mall attack happened. John and I are the survivors. I lost my parents, he lost his and his wife and unborn child.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't realise. So you're no strangers to what the press are going to do when you publish.”

“No. We're not.”

“So just what are you thinking will happen to security round here when you publish? There are going to be cameras watching this place for a month, no one is going to be able to come in or go out without being photographed. Karen's face is going to be plastered all over the web as working here.”

“No, it isn't,” Kate said. “This is a strange organization, George. It's got rich and powerful clients and contracts with quite a few of the major countries of the world. A century ago, when computers were beginning to take over counselling, the dangers of what happened to Karen were already apparent and the UN decided they'd need to have places like this, independent from any government interference. There was unanimous agreement that press intrusion would be detrimental to the function of it. If you look up the relevant resolution there is a total ban on any reporting of comings and goings here and a score of other places around the world like it. Every state in the world has passed that into law. Of course the media will be at our gates wanting interviews, but if they show a picture of anyone coming or going, or mention names of staff or clients, they get in deep deep trouble.”

“You think that's going to stop them?”

“I think that a little chat with the UN security guys at the front gates might make them think seriously about it.”

“What front gates? What UN security guys?” Sarah asked.

“The gates that protect the flower beds of course!”

“But there aren't any!” Karen protested.

“Well, they're not normally above ground, no. But they're there, and we'll be raising them when we publish, I assure you. But normally, it's much nicer not to live in a fortress. Speaking of which, there are a few rooms in the cellars that can be used as bedrooms, if Maria thinks Karen, or George for that matter, would be best hidden away here for a few days.”

“And the UN security officers?” George asked.

“I don't honestly know. Maria, I know that I have a number to call if it looks like the privacy of the centre is going to be threatened. Do you know what happens if I call it?”

“Yes, I do, Kate. George, have you finished your forms yet?”

“Just finished.”

“Good. Then I'll answer more fully when George's forms have been processed.”

“But I don't have clearance, do I?” Teresa asked.

“Yes, you do. Not to the level George wants so he can share his life with Karen of course, but yes, Teresa, you've got basic clearance.”

“We needed to get it before you started working for us,” Kate explained.

“Didn't anyone think of telling me?”

“Sorry it must have slipped my mind, why?”

“Because firstly I've put it at risk with that prison visiting, and secondly I've been thinking of taking on an extra client who said that I'd need security clearance to go onto their site, as though it was a big thing.”

“Here in Restoration?” Maria asked.

“Just outside the city. Urm, I'm not sure I'm allowed to name them.”

“Is it this organization?” Maria showed Teresa a name from her wrist pad.

“Yes.”

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“Tell them you're cleared to level 3 beta, and tell me afterwards how much they beg and grovel to have you work for them.”

“Is three beta high?”

“Not really, but the chairman of their board in only cleared to level 4 beta, mostly their workers only get cleared to level 5 gamma, which means they're officially allowed know that Karen's parents are government employees, which I hope you've gathered by now.”

“May we know what levels we're cleared to?” Sarah asked.

“If you like. John, Sarah, like most of the staff, you're 2 beta, Kate is 2 alpha. Karen is officially 1 gamma and that's what George is applying for. Karen of course has also picked up some things she shouldn't know officially which she will use extreme digression about sharing.”

“And how do we know what we're allowed to share with who?” John asked.

“Don't share anything, and you're safe. Ask Karen if in doubt.”

“And does Security have an opinion on us going public about the power and the gift?” asked Sarah.

“I know I do. Go for it about the power, full disclosure, but name no names. Hold back a while about the gift. Taking some of the power from abusers of it can't be a bad thing. As was mentioned earlier, there are theological issues about the gift. Officially, I think Security would like several years' notice before you call that number, Kate. But you do have the right to use it.” She glanced at her wrist unit. “You see, Kate, when you call that number, Internal Security has an obligation under the UN resolution to send you officers wearing the UN uniform and obedient to UN chain of command. That means cases dropped, leads not followed up on, people at risk, until UN chain of command decides the risk is over. You ringing that number today would be just what every criminal organization would love. Officers from Security out in plain sight acting like policemen. It's a crazy provision really.”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Kate responded. “I didn't realise it would be so disruptive. I guess I imagined that there was a barracks full of bored UN agents somewhere.”

“I wonder what would happen if we remind the press that we're off limits in the press release about the mind-reading,” John wondered.

“Headlines like ‘Secretive organization steals other people's secrets,’ followed by a campaign, ‘Sign up to our campaign to repeal obsolete UN resolution,’” George replied.

“I presume Nature or whatever journal we end up publishing in don't let people publish anonymously?” Sarah asked.

“Not normally. I think it's been done occasionally, but not just to avoid press attention,” Kate answered.

“I've got an idea. How about we get others involved, spread the heat, or even not be involved in publishing ourselves.”

“I don't think that'll work, really. Sooner or later someone is going to say something.”

“So,” Kate summarised, “we could not publish. We could release it through government channels and get it branded as propaganda. We could publish it as the final act of the Institute, so that there isn't anyone to interview any more. Or we could do our own part to bring anarchy to our country. We could hire our own security guards which would probably bankrupt us fairly soon. Or we could give sufficient warning to the government of what we're about to do so that they double the size of internal security. Any other alternatives?”

“Yes,” Teresa answered, “you could set up an alternative organisation to research and publish the results, which wouldn't be under the UN ban, you could do a collaborative paper with the Lunar University or something equally inaccessible and second your people there, or you could sign some kind of exclusive deal with one particular media organization and get them to warn the others off.”

“How does that one work?” Karen asked.

“I guess you'd get some kind of respected broadcaster sufficient clearance to work here,” Teresa expanded, “explain to them and all their bosses the reporting restrictions, but let them see and report on all the great work you're involved in. Then gradually let them in on the big secret. Maybe even let them dramatise your work as a docudrama. Then let them protect their story as they know best. I mean, you've had enough going on in the last month to provide a few interesting story lines, and there must be a few journalists who are itching with interest about what happens in these walls.”

“So you mean give the media something they want in exchange for keeping security tight? Would that really work?”

“It might,” Maria replied. “There have been times when the big media corporations attached journalists to squads of soldiers in wartime. It sometimes worked, though anyone assigned to work here wouldn't be under fire.”

“Until someone like your brother decided they knew too much of course.”

“Yes. So there is a risk to them, I agree,” Maria conceded.

“Would the exclusive deal be a necessary part of it?” John asked.

“I expect so,” Kate replied. “But how about we ask Pete? I mean, this public relations stuff is his territory really.”

“Pete is your PR baker fiancé?” Maria asked.

“Yes, that's him.”

“What in the Solar System is a public relations baker?” George asked, totally confused.

“He used to be in public relations, but he'd much rather be an artist. He makes portrait-cakes, edible sculptures. The mass-market ones are OK, but his hand crafted ones are really lifelike.”

“Oh, I think I've seen one of his mass market ones. Weird concept, to eat someone's head.”

“I've heard rumours that some politicians are considering getting him to do their opponents,” Maria said, “but that was just gossip.”

“Not just gossip, Maria,” Kate said, pleased to have information that Maria didn't.

“Ooh, they placed the order?”

“Interestingly enough, he's working on two for this year's conference season, with different delivery dates. I'm not sure I should reveal further details.”

“The cut and thrust of politics, eh?” Maria said. “Something like that, yes.” Kate admitted. Maria read a note on her wrist unit. “Well, on that fun note, I'm going to have to leave you,” she said. “Sarah, if Karen could stay with you, at least for a while, that'd be excellent. George, you're cleared, be a good lad and teach my daughter to look after herself better, and do talk to my husband, about everything. Karen knows how to call him securely. Karen, make sure you introduce George to your security detail, I'm not leaving you without protection for at least a month after this. The guys will know where George will stay. George, you're going to have to be in the witness protection scheme until the trial, hope you enjoy it, it's hideously expensive. Think of it as a holiday where the hotel rooms have no windows. I'll be in touch.”

“Good bye, Mummy,” Karen said, who was used to such exits, and gave her mother a hug, then Maria left. George's mouth was still failing to get into gear as the door closed behind her. “Oh,” he finally managed. “I suppose that takes care of my accommodation, but what about my things? Can I go and collect them?”

“Probably not, George,” Kate said. “Security will empty your flat for you,” Karen said. “They'll let you have what you really need, but only the minimum of stuff. I'm afraid we're not going to see each other until the trial, George, unless Mummy decides that one of the safe houses can be here.”

“And when will the trial be?”

“Who knows? Priscilla will need to be well enough to give evidence, at least.”

“I attended most of my lectures by telepresence,” Sarah said. “I guess you'll have to do all of them that way.”

“I hate that. It's worse than sitting in the front row of a lecture, everyone looks through you.”

“Looks through you?” Kate was confused. “I thought your face just got put up on a display?”

“They've improved the system now, Kate,” Sarah explained. “They've made it so you can turn your so-called ‘head’ to make the camera look towards people wherever they’re speaking from, and your face is projected onto a semi-transparent screen. That's so you don't block the view of people behind you, but George is right, people do tend to look through your image at whatever's happening behind you. It's a bit unnerving, but I got used to it.”

“I guess I'll have to, too,” George said, resigned to his fate.

“John,” Kate suggested “George needs to learn about using the gift. Can you take him and fill him in on everything that we know so far, please.”

“Sure, come on, George. I'll explain it in my office. I think maybe the ladies want to chat without us.”

After they'd left, Sarah asked, “Kate, what is it?”

“A silly thought. Tell me if I'm wrong here. Karen, your mother's never mentioned your uncle, am I right?”

“Yes, that's right.”

“And then she describes him to us as a very nasty person. And Teresa, you've met him, is that right?”

“Yes, well, I've met someone who was in prison under the same name.”

“Computer, display pictures taken by visitor George's wrist unit. Teresa, you went quiet when these pictures came up. Can I ask why. Is this the man you met in prison?”

“You mean could Maria have been pinning the blame on the wrong man? No, that's him all right.”

“I'm glad I was wrong, it was just a nasty suspicion, and that you might not want to cause a confrontation.”

“No, I've just been deep in thought. Seeing him coordinating an attack, telling people to kill George, just because he was linked to Karen. That seems so, I don't know, unmotivated, pointless violence, and it doesn't seem in character with how Maria described him. You know, the arch manipulator. It seems more like he was trying to get himself caught.”

“Yes. Why would he be so personally involved? Did he think he was so safe?” Karen wondered aloud.

“Or was there someone pushing him somehow? Making him make mistakes?” Sarah suggested.

“It almost seems like everything changed partway through this morning. He had been intending to find out everything about Karen, about where she lived and what she studied, then suddenly it was torturing Karen's friends and sending coded messages that would only be fully understood by Maria. It's as if something scared him enormously.”

“Sarah, can you persuade the computer to come up with a time-line, or shall we just sketch one?”

“I'll make one,” Sarah volunteered. “What am I plotting?”

“Events, any links. Attack on George, attack on Priscilla, Arnold's event line, attack on him. When did Harry get his instructions, Maria's plane landing, anything else you can think of.”

Sarah's fingers flew over the console. “OK, here we are. Karen, did you walk here?”

“Yes, I walked.”

“The log shows you arrived at 8.30, so you left home at about 8.00?”

“Yes, didn't the I.D. log give an exact time?”

“Oh, of course. Didn't think of that.” She pulled the exact time from the log, and adjusted the marker.

“OK, so one thing is clear,” Kate decided. “There's no way that Karen coming here triggered the attack on Priscilla. That's one thing I'd been afraid of.”

“You thought I might have been followed?” Karen asked, surprised.

“Why not?” Kate asked “Your address must have been known to send Arnold to find your house. If he's trying to find out about you, why not follow you?”

“Let's access the recordings and find out,” Sarah said. “Computer, access external camera recordings. Back trace from entry of staff member Karen this morning to find first approach of her on any camera. Play that recording panel three, play time-synchronised recordings showing overlapping or adjoining views on other panels. Stop playback 2 minutes after staff member Karen leaves frame. Repeat for other cameras in sequence. Playback speed three times normal.”

The computer started playing the first recording, from a remote camera perhaps a kilometre from the Institute.

“How do we have access to a camera there?” Sarah asked. “That's at a private home, isn't it?”

“Yes,” Kate acknowledged, “but the security review a few years ago decided we couldn't adequately protect our clients without remote cameras. So, we found some not-quite neighbours who didn't mind us putting our cameras on their homes in exchange for a suitable rental.”

The recording showed Karen, just about visible, approaching down the road, comically fast because of the playback speed. There was some road and foot traffic, but no vehicles were behaving oddly. The pedestrians seemed to be moving at different speeds, either hurrying past, overtaking Karen or going slower as they walked with children. Only one person seemed to be moving at the same speed as Karen, along roughly the same path, about three hundred metres behind her. Sarah was about to tell the computer to circle him on other recordings, and then, as he moved nearer, they saw it was actually Ivan. No one in this first camera had seemed to follow her. To be doubly sure, Sarah instructed the computer to tag everyone that had been left behind in red and those who had hurried past her in blue, in case they were moving irregularly. The exercise continued, and they concluded that only Ivan had potentially been following her, but since his home was in that direction, and he'd arrived just after Karen, that was hardly suspicious.

“I'm a bit amazed, really,” Kate said. “No sign of anyone following you, Karen. Why not? I don't suppose there was a helicopter or a drone flying around following you?”

“No,” Karen shivered. “I've had that happen. It was scary, I'm very aware of that sort of thing. Either he already knew I'm going to work here, or he thought I wouldn't find out about Arnold and there was plenty of time. But that makes no sense given that the attacks were aimed at my friends.”

“Was he maybe testing us, do you think?” Sarah asked.

“You mean that if we'd heard Karen, could we hear others too?” Theresa asked. “Then why just pick on Karen's friends?”

“A horrible thought. What if he didn't?” Sarah asked.

“You mean he might have ordered more gangs out to put people in life threatening positions, to see if there was something special about Karen?” Teresa asked.

“Wouldn't that fit his character?” Sarah replied.

“Then why get personally involved in both Pris and George?” Karen asked.

“Because they had a link to you and through you to your mother, perhaps?”

“This is terrible. How do we check?” Karen asked.

“Let's call John and George back in,” Sarah suggested.

“Yes. Let's,” Karen agreed.

[John, we've been brainstorming and had a nasty thought, please come. What if he was testing us with Priscilla and George, and is torturing others to death too?] Sarah pleaded.

[Coming,] came John's reply.