VISUAL EFFECTS / CH. 23:HITLIST
FRISOL 7TH OCTOBER, 2271, 3PM
“Alice! Please, you're a good person, and I need to talk to someone, I don't know what to do.” It was Tina, the wanna woman Alice had interviewed.
“Somewhere private?” Alice asked, sensing Tina's worry. The market wasn't the best place to hold a private conversation.
“Please.”
“OK, urm, can it wait while I try to buy some carrots?”
“Of course.”
“You want carrots? Please tell me you want carrots!” the woman beside her said. She had a huge pile.
“That's a good crop.”
“That's an expensive mistake, that's what that is. I told my son to plant a packet of carrots, and he got the biggest packet I've ever seen. I wanted two rows and he planted three quarters of our plot!”
“Ouch. So... what can I offer you?” Alice looked at the trolley of trade goods she had.
“Anything to liven up carrots?”
“Hot pepper sauce?” she brought out a little bottle.
“Does it last?”
“Seems to. We've had this on the shelf for three months, and it's twin is still going strong. Treat very carefully, it's hot.”
“Excellent, my husband loves hot.”
“I thought I did, then I discovered there's hot and there's boil your brains out. Try before you buy? I've got some potato crisps.” Alice brought out the crisps she'd made earlier in the day.
“For trade?” the woman asked eagerly.
“If you like.” It was going to have been Alice's snack, but never mind.
“What do you say to two kilos of carrots for each?”
“I say you're trying to make yourself poor.”
“I'm trying to get rid of carrots.”
“I can't do that to you, that's taking advantage. Tell you what, would you swap fifteen kilos of carrots for the sauce, chips, ten kilos of potatoes, and three litres of tomato juice which need using up really soon, because although they're recent, I'm pretty sure they didn't seal right?”
“I'd say you're an absolute godsend.”
Tina offered, “A kilo of carrots for a hundred grams of sugar? I got some from a spaceman.”
“Shh. You'll start a riot!” the market woman said. “Sugar to carrots should be twenty to one.”
“It's a bit caked,” Tina protested.
“I don't care, don't think you can go away or I'll offer you three kilos. I'll just sample this alleged rocket fuel, if that's OK?”
“Fine. Just don't say I didn't warn you,” Alice replied. Knowing the sauce, she'd come prepared; she got out a glass rod, and carefully dipped just the end of it into the sauce. It left a feint line on the crisp.
“You've got to be joking,” the woman said.
“I think I put too much on, consider yourself warned,” Alice replied.
“I'm hardly going to taste that!” she said, and bit down onto the crisp. As she chewed her eyes opened wide and she drew a deep breath past her tongue.
“Wow!” she managed. Her eyes were watering. “I can see why you're using it slowly!”
“Grown and made by a student friend who thinks nothing of putting it on her food by the teaspoon full.”
The woman looked at her, saw the lightning symbol drawn on the glass bottle, said “this isn't the famous Thornthwaite Thunderbolt, is it?”
“I didn't know it was that famous.”
“You've got more space in your trolley, let me give you more carrots. This stuff sells amongst students like it was gold!”
“I've got to get this thing home, no thanks.”
“You're sure?”
“Absolutely.”
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BULLRUSH PARK, 3.30PM
The dome they were in had a small garden in it. Green grass and an artificial stream with some bullrushes at the edge. It was new, and had become one of Tina's favourite spots, so Earth-like, as long as you didn't look behind you or out past the bullrushes. But the 'sky' was still red with the dust on the top of the dome. They sat on one of the benches.
“She took you in you know,” Tina said.
“Not one bit,” Alice denied, “It was a fair price.”
“Maybe, but not for the sauce. I've heard about it too.”
“Hey, we're not going to use it. And I know the tale about her son is a load of rubbish because I heard it last year too, but still, she grows good carrots. If that's all she can grow, then I don't mind letting her family have a more varied diet.”
“Well, all right. Like I said, you're a good woman.”
“So, what do you want to ask me?”
“I want to go home.”
“I've heard that. And you told me that you'd read going home would probably mean poverty, suicide, and the like.”
“I know.”
“So, stay, Tina! Choose to live!”
“I've had an offer that'll get me home. I really want to accept it.”
“So you've come to me to say don't?”
“Yes. And give me a good reason why I should, that'll stand up and fight down the offer every time I think about it. Every single time in the next twelve months, even when I hate every single born Martian on the planet.”
“That's quite an argument you're asking for.”
“I know.”
“So, what is it, someone wants a kidney and half your liver?”
“No. Information. Seconders, thirders, where to find them. Not just second gen, you know? Descendants of the firsters.”
Alice felt cold.
“What for?”
“He didn't say, other than some rubbish about being an autograph hunter. I've seen him around, you know? He's a spaceman. He's the one who gave me the sugar, 'a little sweetner,' he called it, 'to help you remember home.' It scared me. What's he want to help a wanna remember home for? So I've had it in my pocket for a month, not trusting myself to taste it, not wanting to fall for it. Am I being a stupid girl, frightening myself?”
“It sounds bad to me. It'd be like spiking the drink of an ex-alcoholic, wouldn't it?”
“That's why I sold it. I might be stupid but I'm not evil. Why does he want to give me a ticket home for someone's address?”
“I'm guessing you're not into the folk music scene, are you?”
“Folk music? Hate the stuff. It goes round and round in your head and you can't stand it but it just stays there.”
“You probably won't thank me for my answer then. You've heard of Scaredy Jim?”
“Yeah. He was on the list, right at the top.”
“You've got a list?”
“Yeah. Every address filled in is a chance at the lottery, he said. He's one of the comet catchers, back on Mars every few months, for a few days, then he's off again. Flash with the cash when he's here, buys himself some company. Says he wants to visit people who've got real ancestry, firster blood. Mars' royalty, he calls them. If I get lucky and he manages to meet them and get an autograph, then he'll buy me a ticket home. But I don't think he's after autographs.”
“Don't go near him Tina. I think your instincts sound right, and he's evil.”
“You mean that?”
“Tina, it makes too much sense. Is he an oldish guy?”
“No, about our age. Speaks with an accent, but I can't place it.”
“Oh.”
“But he did say once that he'd got the idea from his dad, carrying on a family tradition, he called it. I don't like his laugh. But I want to go home.”
“And he gave you a list of names, or he showed it to you?”
“Got it.”
“You could burn it.”
“It wouldn't help. Its engraved just behind my eyeballs.”
“Any names crossed off?”
“What?”
“You know, Oh, don't bother with that one, I've got his last visit.”
“Yeah, there was one, come to think of it.”
“You can remember it?”
“Yes.”
Alice looked at her wrist unit and pulled a face. “Are you busy?”
“Me? No.”
“I'm supposed to be, but I think this is more important. I think we need to visit the Council.”
“Why?”
“See what they can tell us about the name crossed off your list. I've got a nasty feeling I know.”
“You're getting me scared, Alice.”
“Scared is good. I'm going to call my husband to meet us if that's OK.”
“At the council?”
“No, here. I'm scared too, and he appointed himself my bodyguard.”
“What's going on in your mind, Alice?”
“Registrin's a jit thing to do.”
“That's one of those folk songs, isn't it? Argh, it's coming back,” Tina said, then went pale, “firsters die too easily, seconders the same?”
“Yes, that line. Mars's greatest mystery. Why should seconders have more accidents than their second gen classmates?”
“Statistical fluctuation,” Tina replied.
“Ninety fifth percentile.”
“Pardon?”
“I studied some statistics for my degree, sorry.”
“Don't apologise, just explain.”
“In a random test, if you throw four coins a hundred times say, there's a chance that you end up with all heads, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Right, do it enough times, or do the maths, and you find out that four heads normally turns up about three and a bit times in a hundred.”
“I think I did that much in maths, yes.”
“Do it enough with enough numbers and you can say that sort of thing with other things too. A ninety fifth percentile answer is one which might happen by chance randomly one in twenty times. The other nineteen times it's something less than three heads, or whatever. It's not impossible, it's just pretty rare. Back to the death rates of seconders compared to their second gen classmates, the number of accidental deaths is like throwing all heads first time. Add in the way they're dying, and I want my husband. Preferably with a nice big St Bernard dog with a life-saving air bottle around his neck, but we can't have everything can we?”
“I don't get the dog reference.”
“I'll tell you once I've called Simon, OK?”
“Fine.”
Alice rang Simon's number. He didn't pick up. “Pick up Simon!” she muttered,
and then added her mental voice as well. [Pick up Simon! I need you.]
Eventually he did, “Sorry, Alice, I was all mucky.”
“Simon, you know the bull-rushes park?”
“Yes?”
“I'm there at the moment, a bit scared. Beside the path. I'm going to take that path soon and I want you with me every step of the way. So please stop gazing out of the window at the leaves blowing around and be my knight in shining lab-coat.” [My wanna friend's been shown a list of seconders to track down.]
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
“Coming. You're OK there?”
“I think so.”
[Alice, I know you don't like using your gift, but it'll take me a while to get there. Please look for people in that dome you need to avoid.]
“You don't think you should be somewhere with more people around?” he asked aloud.
“I think we're OK here, Simon. There's no one near by.” [No dots in this dome, but we're going to the council offices. Who knows who he's got working for him.]
“OK, love, I'll be praying for you. Stay safe. Peace, love, don't panic.”
“I'm not panicking. I just want you here. Now.”
“I'm coming.”
“What was that about about the knight in shining lab coat?” Tina asked.
“About how we met. God told him he needed to help me, one coffee break.”
“Your God is very real to you, isn't he?”
“Very. And I know he loves me a lot.”
“It makes sense what you said about us wannas worshipping Earth. But I don't think Earth cares about us, it just is.”
“Quite solid except during an earthquake,” Alice acknowledged, “God's better.”
“You can bury your toes into his golden beaches and just feel so home?”
“Sort of, yes. I can fill my mind with what he's said, and feel so cherished. I can listen to people's words who knew his power and be strengthened, even if the journey I need to take is painful. I can look at the bright future that he promises and know that he's never going to disappoint me.”
“Oh. You mean you think you're doing a lot better in the god department than I am?”
“Oh Tina, you know you're heading to disappointment if you ever get what you want, don't you? Why not focus your longing to an eternal home that will never perish, spoil or fade? Choose a good home to go to, where you'll be welcomed, not a memory that you know'll disappoint you and where you'll be thrown on the rubbish heap!”
“That's your hope?”
“Eternity with God, who knows me better than my husband and loves me more than my parents ever could, a welcome into his home where there's no more crying because He wipes away every tear. Yes that's my hope.”
“It sounds a lovely place.”
“The stuff you might have heard about singing with harps on clouds is mostly just made up stuff, Tina. There's some stuff about all of creation singing a new song, yes, but there's far more about heaven as our home.”
“I'm happy for you that you've got that to look forward to, but it's not for me.”
“It could be Tina.”
“I'm not good enough. Too many bad deeds.”
“No one is good enough, Tina. Imagine the price of a ticket there is a gazzilion kilos worth of good deeds without even even one black spot. You'd never save enough, no one would. That's why God is offering free tickets.”
“What's the catch?”
“You say sorry and yes please, and you ask him to help you let God be God and to stop thinking you know best.”
“He wouldn't want me. I'm trash, fit for the scrap heap.”
“In his eyes, Tina, your his beloved wife or daughter — both images are used in different places — who he wants to pick out of the mud she's playing in, let her have a bath, tell her how much he loves her, and give her a beautiful new dress to wear, just so she can see how nice it is to be clean and to feel pretty and loved. If you want to look at the Bible with me, I'd be very very happy to show you the passages I've just referred to. I'm not making it up.”
“I don't know, Alice. It sounds beautiful, but I don't know. I'll think about it. Is that your Simon coming?”
“It is.”
“Doesn't look much like a body guard. I'd expected more muscles.”
“He's the one God's chosen for me, and I'm not complaining.”
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FRISOL 7TH OCTOBER, MARS COUNCIL OFFICES, 4PM
“Uh oh, this looks like a delegation,” Eloise said, seeing Alice, Simon and Tina entering. “I distinctly don't like delegations at 4pm on Frisol.”
“Hi, Eloise. Let me introduce Tina, who's still a wanna despite my best efforts at persuading her to change her religion. Tina's been asked to find addresses and current aliases for seconders and thirders by a guy who's offering her a trip home to help him cross names off a list. Claims he's hunting autographs, but we have our doubts.”
“Something about him is scary.” Tina offered.
“So,” Alice said, “since there was one name crossed off his list when he copied it for Tina, we'd like to make sure said name hasn't cropped up on the accident statistics.”
“And if said name isn't on the statistics, it's all a wild goose chase and you can stop sending goosebumps up my spine?” Eloise asked.
“Personally,” Alice said, “I was going to suggest that if said name isn't, then someone competent ought to check any breathers or life support equipment at their address, just in case they've suddenly acquired a dud.”
“Alice, you're scary.”
“No, the guy who hands wannas bags of sugar as 'a little taste of home' is scary.”
“He did that?” Eloise asked.
“He did that. Alice saw me get rid of it, but even knowing what it'd do to me, I'd been fighting temptation for a few weeks.”
“What would it do to you?”
“What would an mostly recovered alcoholic do if you spiked their drink?”
Alice asked, “They'd want more. Desperately.”
“I bet the old wannas who sold their claims to 'help them go home' got given some sugar or a boiled sweet, or some other long missed taste of home first. It'd turn the 'want' into a 'need at any cost.'”
“You're talking about it as though it was an addiction.”
“The second hardest thing I do is feed myself,” Tina said “knowing that if I didn't I could save that money and get home quicker. The hardest thing I do is give away money, because I'm not so far gone that I don't know what waits for me if I get there. That's my sanity reasserting itself. It doesn't happen very often, and I haven't ever managed to bring myself to give away money that's in my account.”
“OK. Sounds like an addiction to me. Right, tell me the name.”
“Anna McFearson” Tina said.
“Not a name I recognise,” Eloise said, “But then I'm new here. Wait here a moment please.”
Eloise stepped next door. “Mack, quick question. I've got the Findhorn-Buntings and someone called Tina, a wanna, next door, Tina's been shown what she was told was a list of seconders, by a self-professed autograph hunter, who sounds underhand, scary and manipulative. One name crossed off, Anna McFearson. Ring any bells?”
“Certainly. You think it's a hit list?”
“That's the fear. Who easier to buy than wannas, if you want an army of spies and informers with no loyalty to here?”
“Oh God! “, he exclaimed, which was out of character since he wasn't given to swearing and he was an atheist, “I'll call her. Don't tell the wanna, just in case she lapses, but Anna's married name is Durrel.”
“Should I tell Alice and Simon?”
He nodded, as he lifted his phone to his ear. “Hi Anna, you don't know how glad I am to hear your voice. But an urgent question, have you had any new life support or breather related deliveries recently? Eloise, can you find out how recent?”
“Of course,” Eloise said.
“What's this about, Mack?”
“Your maiden name on what might be a hit-list, crossed off.”
“Dear Lord, preserve us! I really don't know, the boys normally deal with that sort of thing these days.”
“OK, well, you know the drill. Code red. We practiced it enough back in the day, assume something newish is dud, defective or tampered with. For safety assume two.”
“Three's better, I know. I thought we'd lived through that and they'd given up!”
“Someone's luring wannas into acting as spies, one came forwards, via Alice and Simon. Can you contact all your family?”
“Of course. But Tom's on his way down to Hellas.”
“We don't know which of your complexes got the duds, assuming there were some.”
“No, no, we don't. But... should I tell him to stop at the first place he can?”
“I think so.”
Eloise came back, “She saw the list about ten days ago. Hand-written, she got a photo on her wrist unit.”
Mack passed that on.
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DURREL-PEEBLES HOUSEHOLD, 4.15PM
“Tom, we are code red. I've been crossed of a list, under my maiden name. The list was seen about ten days ago, so who knows what's rigged. Please divert to a neighbour and stay safe, love.”
“You're calling the kids, or shall I?”
“I'm travelling safe, quad redundant. You're not. I'll do it.”
“OK love.”
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MARS COUNCIL OFFICES, 4.15PM
“Tina, I'm sorry, but there's curiosity and there's need to know.” Eloise said.
“And I don't need to know,” Tina summarised, “In fact, I need not to, don't I? Just in case I lapse.”
“Sorry.”
“That's fine. I'm safer if I don't know, and sorry, Alice, I'm probably safer if I don't get seen with you, either. Talking to known reporters about someone who might be an assassin....”
“I hope you haven't been seen. Take care, Tina. OK if we hang around a bit, Eloise?”
“Certainly.” Eloise said and, after Tina had gone, she added “Unfortunately you two have a need to know. Her name's Durrel these days.”
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DURREL-PEEBLES HOUSEHOLD 4.17PM
Evangeline stopped tending the plants and picked up the call. It was her mother.
“Evangeline, we're code red, love, quad redundancy on everything. My maiden name's been crossed off a list, about ten days ago.”
“Chris has just gone out.”
“Call him home love, when you're safe, explain.”
“Take care, mum!”
“I fully plan to.”
“Mum, I can't explain, but listen to Alice.”
“Alice?”
“I'll call her, but if she rings, listen carefully.”
“She helped report the list.”
“Excellent. I don't need to fill her in too much then, just grovel. Am I the last you've called?”
“No, you're second.”
“Then call the others.” Evangeline ended the call and rang Alice.
“Hi Alice, big big favour,” Evangeline said “Can you check? Please?”
“Done. None of you glow as in immediate danger.”
“Thank you. Never thought we'd be 'code red' again. But we know what to do.”
“Code red?” Alice asked.
“Triple redundancy or better, don't trust your life support.”
“Is that just a family code?”
“No. Why?”
“Crazy thought, someone should write a song about it. Loads of rhymes with red. Head, said, dead....”
“Go ahead, but I'll stay well away from it until you've made it famous.”
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MARS COUNCIL OFFICES. 4.20PM
“I presume that was one of the Durrels?” Mack asked.
“Yes.”
“I'd really like to know what that reassuring 'none of you glow as in immediate danger' meant.”
“It means I say 'oh me and my big mouth.'” Alice said, “and then I ask about microphones known and unknown, and ask for some advice from Simon.”
“You mean, do we have security systems recording this conversation? No. Do MarsCorp have hidden bugs? It's happened before, but we check roughly monthly. No signals for a long time.”
Simon looked around the room, wondering if his othersight would be useful. Mack was trustworthy, he saw, and Eloise. The plant in the corner looked a bit sick, and the ventilation grill in the ceiling wasn't trustworthy at all.
“When was the last check?” he asked.
“Three weeks ago,” Eloise said.
“Have you got a scanner yourselves?” Simon asked.
“We call in an expert.”
“Got a chair or something I can stand on?” he said, looking at the vent.
“That's been untouched for at least a year,” Mack said, following his gaze. He didn't let his disbelief stop him from handing Simon a small step ladder that he kept to get at archives on the top shelf.
“Hmm,” Simon commented, putting his finger to his lips.
The vent had clips for removing the filter for cleaning, Simon unclipped them and found the reason for it being untrustworthy easily enough. There was a little microphone embedded in the filter, with wires that disappeared into the ducting. Simon looked at Mack questioningly, who offered him a pair of scissors. Simon cut the wires.
“My guess is that that's why you've not detected any bugs recently,” Simon said. “Someone worked out that if high tech doesn't work, fall back to low.”
“I won't pretend to know how you knew that was there,” Mack said.
“Roughly the same way I could spot there was something funny with the Jupiter,” Simon said, “and that your plant there's a bit unwell. Sometimes God lets me see things a bit differently. Apparently I'm unusual, but what God lets Alice do has been subject to peer-review.”
“Not personally, you understand,” Alice corrected, “and I don't have the full version. God's blessed me with less temptation these days. I didn't used to be good at resisting it, especially when I was far from him.”
“My plant's unwell?” Mack said, able to fit that into his theology. He examined the leaves closely, and saw a little tell-tale yellowness in the leaves. “Oh yes, mineral deficiency, thanks. Can we leave God out of the conversation? I don't believe in God.”
“That might be tricky,” Eloise said. She'd read the article. “You're talking about that theology paper, Alice?”
“Afraid so. That's the gift I abused as a far-from God journalist.”
“Mack, didn't you read the second paper from I.H.M. at all?”
“Cutting edge theology? Not my cup of tea, thanks. Speaking of which, who'd like some? I've just finished a new harvest, so stocks are high.”
“Yes please!” Simon and Alice accepted, “and will you be offering it for trade?”
“Of course. How much this time?”
“More than last time,” Alice said. “I'm not good with self control when it comes to cups of tea. I'm much better than I was with mind reading though.”
“Isn't that officially called thought-hearing?” Mack asked.
“That's the human side of things. I've no intention of leaving God out of the conversation, Mack, sorry because he's the one who gives and who takes away. When I was young, He gave me a gift I could have used to seriously invade your privacy and know your every thought and the thoughts behind your thoughts all the way down deep into your subconscious. From outside the building. That side of things I don't think I can do any more, I abused it and he took it away. Maybe he's given it back now I'm learning self control and patience, but I'm not going to test it. I don't have full choice in the matter these days — again it used to be at will — but I can sometimes listen to people's thoughts or hold a conversation with thought-hearers on Earth much faster than the speed of light. In-between distances I used to have in-between access to people's thoughts. I haven't had a need to try that recently. I can also look for people by category, if it's important and there's no other way. I abused that one too, by the way, before God took it away. Today was actually the first time I've tried to do it in years, and praise God, it worked. I looked for Evangeline's relatives and in-laws who were safe, and found glowing dots all over the place, I guess I got cousins too, or something. Then I looked for any of them in immediate danger from some kind of booby-trap or dodgy life support. There weren't any glowing dots anywhere on Mars.”
“But there might be others who aren't relatives of Evangeline who are in danger,” Eloise said, quick on the uptake. Mack was still totally out of his comfort zone.
“'Might be' that's the thing. That doesn't strike into my heart as a clear and real danger in quite the same way. It's a subjective judgement, and I'll happily let Simon try to convince me if he disagrees, but I could kill myself checking into 'might be' cases.”
“No need to exaggerate,” Mack said.
“Actually Mack, I wasn't. God might have given me partial access to divine knowledge, but I've only got a human brain to process it in. I could easily kill myself if I over-use it. See cutting edge theology paper for scientific description of more details, I can't remember the numbers.”
“Alice, what I don't understand between that paper, and hearing you talk,” Eloise said, “is that it seems they've been using the same gift you're talking about without any real need to at all, other than scientific interest.”
“Welcome to the world of relative ethics, Eloise. I'm not convinced it wouldn't be sin, so it would feel like sin for me. I've plunged into that grey area too many times and gone out the other side too, so I'm staying well clear. If you want to, you're welcome to ask the Institute if they'd like to ask their contacts with the gift to have a look for people with dodgy life support units. I think people should just be told to be ultra careful.”
“We can't force you,” Eloise said, “but they're using it without much need and you're not using it when you could be preventing deaths.”
“And it seems you're playing double standards of who you'll protect,” Mack accused, “you're protecting your friends but not others. Isn't that sin?”
“Ouch,” Alice said.
“Alice, let's discuss this,” Simon said.
“Gladly!” and she grabbed his hand.
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MARS COUNCIL OFFICES. 4.40PM
Simon let go of Alice's hand and then caught her as she slumped. It had been a bit of a marathon discussion, involving Sue too, and in the end he'd told Alice he thought her objections were down to fear of using her gift, not fear of sin, and she should seek peace. She'd developed what he felt was a rather bad habit of letting him catch her rather than putting herself in a stable position.
“What's wrong with Alice?” Eloise asked as Simon propped her limp form against the corner of the room.
“It's sort of meditating, but as you see she didn't bother to get in a sensible pose before disconnecting her brain.”
“I thought meditation needed peace and quiet and things.”
“You can call it a self-induced coma if you prefer.”
“Urm, next question... why?”
“Because I suggested she might not be thinking clearly about using her gift because she's afraid. So she's gone to a place where God's peace can clarify her thoughts.”
“By tomorrow morning,” Mack growled, “I'm hoping to have blotted out this entire conversation as a bad dream.”
“I'm hoping, Mack, that by tomorrow morning we'll know if that list is a hit-list or not,” Eloise replied.
“It is,” Alice said, from her corner, “I looked for people in the solar system hoping to get bad breathers to seconders and their descendants. Spots on Earth, my guess is in the major share-holding countries, but when you're looking at the whole solar system Earth is rather a small ball, you know? Another spot on the moon, just now in a bar in Lunar city if it makes a difference. I checked, in case we could find he was in a particular office, wasted effort that was. There's also one spot in space near Mars. Which ties in with what Tina said about him being a comet catcher. I checked and it's only the one guy. I also checked the whole surface of Mars for people who he's got working for him either as look-outs or ignorant delivery people. There's no one here at the moment.”
“Thank you, Alice,” Simon said, helping her to her feet, and holding her to his side, she looked drained to his othersight. He thought she needed to recover in the peace more. “I'm willing to look for one more category, but my brain is quite hot and I don't want to risk more, so I want to discuss it with you guys. Do I look for people in immediate danger from a dodgy breather, which I think is likely to come up blank. After all, no-one's reported any failing breathers or died, so it seems likely that our hit-and-miss assassin didn't know where Anna was until his last visit. Alternatively, I could look for people he's targeting who are likely to pick up a dud breather, or something like that, then if he has delivered any, you know where to point Simon's gift.”
“Alice, love, why don't you have a rest while we talk it over? You look exhausted.”
“Only emotionally and physically,” Alice replied, “Fear's gone, adrenaline's gone, energy's gone.”
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MARS COUNCIL OFFICES. 4.40PM, FRISOL 7TH OCTOBER.
“Anna, me again.” Mack spoke into the phone.
“Hi Mack. Any more news?”
“Yes. I suppose you read that theology paper everyone's going on about?”
“I did, yes.”
“So... in that context. Someone's volunteered some information that the man who's list we've seen isn't on Mars at the moment, has no accomplices, and the only person on his target list likely to pick up a dud breather is you. Personally I'm not sure if I want that information proved or disproved, but there it is.”
“So, you're going to check every breather I might pick up?”
“Yes.”
“And you know what you're looking for?”
“Me? Not at all. I'll bring someone who thinks he might be able to spot something amiss though, and if he can't convince me then we'll just swap every breather in your home and x-ray them or whatever.”
“OK, I'm fine with that idea.”