Page 7 of Scion

“That’s why I trust her.”

Old Woman takes a rapid last few mouthfuls with unladylike gusto, then anachronistically dabs at her shrivelled lips with a serviette. “Well. I’m sure we can survive for a couple of weeks without, anyway.”

“I’m not.” She rises, but I don’t follow. “I mean it.”

Another absent smile down at me. Like all the seriousness of my tone gets lost by the time it hits her ears. “I know you do, dear, but there’s not anything we can do about it now. Come on. I’ll show you those lower entrances, and then we’ll set you up in your room.”

“No.” Calm and professional. Damn, I hate protection. “I need certain resources to do this job properly. If you’re going to restrict my access to those, I’m afraid I need to insist that you call the volo back.” Worth a bluff.

Old Woman sighs. Her expression says she knows all too well that my bosses will kill me if I just walk away. Not metaphorically, either.

She leans down and brings up the in-table display. With a couple of quick taps and a flick, she sends a data screen to my side.

“What’s this?”

“Incentive to be good.”

I humour her, more from morbid curiosity than professionalism now. It’s a Pactum screen. DeGov-mediated public transaction ledger, impossible to spoof. Old Woman’s already set up the bond. I just need to input a wallet. “So… you have a biochip, and you’ve linked it to this contract. You don’t die for another 330 hours, and I get… a data file?” Not even tokens. I feel mildly insulted.

“You get answers about what happened in Oceanus four years ago.”

I freeze. I’ve misheard. I look up at her. Damn. I haven’t misheard. Her eyes are sharp.

“What do you know about that?” Only one thing she could be talking about. No point pretending.

“A lot more than you do. And it’s all in the file.”

I act as if I’m reading the words in front of me again. Pactum isn’t on Q-net, but it’s online. I could get a message to the Keres right now. It’s what they’d expect me to do. “You asked the Keres to send me. Me, specifically. That’s why it cost so much.” Atti wouldn’t shut up about the tokens we were getting for this job.

“You are a smart one, dear. Yes.”

“Why?” I don’t send anything. Yet. Asshats could have at least warned me. “How do you even know about me?”

Old Woman smiles. It’s a sharp smile. I don’t think she’s senile any more. “Keep me breathing long enough, and maybe I’ll explain.”

“I’d like to know now.”

“No.”

“And what’s to stop me from forcing the issue?” I don’t make it threatening. We both know who I am. What I am.

To my surprise, Old Woman chortles. “Do I look like I’d survive… whatever it is you’d do to me?” She taps her head. “This is still strong enough, but this”—she gestures to the rest of her desiccated form—“not so much, these days.”

She’s right. I knew it even as I said it. And then I’d be down a data file, too.

“You’re very annoying.”

“So I’ve been told.” Still smiling that stupid smile. She knows she has me. “Oh, and there’s one other stipulation: while you are employed by me, you answer any questions I have, and you do it honestly. If I find you’ve held something back, I won’t hesitate to take this little bonus away from you.” She taps the screen, pointing out where she’s given herself that option. “Well?”

I enter the details of a burner wallet into Pactum, seal the contract, and spin the screen back to her side of the table. No petulance in the motion. None at all.

“Show me downstairs.”

EVEN ACCUSTOMED AS I AM to seeing the insides of lifers’ houses (and their occupants), downstairs is impressive. Especially the floor. Clear glass in the centre of the room reveals an incredible aquatic spectacle beneath, replete with sand, rocks, seaweed, coral. Vibrant schools of fish dart. Larger ones wander alone. Retreating out of sight, I actually think I see the outline of a damned shark. The majority of the illumination is from below, leaving rippling caustic curves drifting up onto everything in the room, myself and Old Woman included.

I crouch and rap it with my knuckles. “This isn’t digiglass, is it.” I’ve kept my cognitive revs active, otherwise I would have assumed the opposite.

“No. And don’t tap on it like that, please.”