Fade To Black Part 18

"What do you think?" Bandit replied.

"Well, yes," she said, slowly. "Yes, you're right. It's true. I am. Older than I look. Why ... do you ask?

Why am I telling you this?"

"You'd like to tell me more."

"Yes, I would." She stopped and smiled again and nodded. Then frowned. "I don't understand."

"There's nothing to understand."

"Yes,, yes, there is. I'm sure of it."

"You just like talking to me."

"Yes, I do. But there's more. You're ..."

"No."

"You are." Her expression grew pained. She gasped for breath as if running a race. "You're ... doing things to me. Stop it. Stop it, please! It hurts..." Incredible.

Bandit lowered the mask. Marena Farris dropped her head to her breast. Her hair tumbled down around her face, concealing her features completely. But not her aura. Bandit looked at that again just to see how it had changed, but it was difficult to read. Certain aspects of it were puzzling, out of sync, conflicting with the whole. Conflicting with aspects of her aura that seemed to imply that she had a great latent potential for magic. Great enough that she might have made a powerful mage, had she begun the study early enough.

Then again, her potential was not entirely latent. She had some very minor raw ability. Unrefined, untrained. A sensitivity to spells of influence, a sort of natural resistance, and great strength of will.

Bandit wondered if she might not be one of those people, successful people, powerful people, who are often credited with great personal charisma, charm, influence, and a thousand other traits that mundanes found so difficult to describe.

Magic by other names.

It would be interesting to spend more time with Marena Farris. Bandit could see the value in it clearly.

If nothing else, her own natural resistance would help him reveal the true depth of power possessed by the Mask of Sa.s.sacus.

The bedroom door swung inward.

Rico entered. "Looking for you," he said. "Have a seat, I wanna talk to our guest."

Bandit found himself a chair.

Heading into this, Rico tried to keep an open mind.

Marena Farris lifted her head and met bis eyes. She looked distraught enough to cry, scared, too. It made her seem more human.

Her Fuchi file said she was forty-three, but she didn't look anywhere near that age. Maybe twenty-five. She had the kind of looks that leapt out and demanded a man's attention, no question about it Her face was pure exec, cool and sophisticated, flawless. Her figure was beyond belief. She had all the makings of a primo s.l.u.t or prost.i.tute, the kind of woman who got whatever she wanted, regardless of what it took. She'd started at Fuchi as a corporate joygirl, a sort of combination hooker and geisha, but had broken out of that mold in just a few short years. The corp had educated her, boosted her up the ladder.

Rico noticed how the light from the room's only lamp gleamed on the moist skin beneath Marena Farris' eyes, and he decided how to proceed. An honorable man would plumb his own depths searching for mercy. Understanding. Compa.s.sion. But Rico couldn't afford it.

"What's your story?"

She hesitated, blinked like she didn't understand, the looked at him steadily and said, "Please don't killme."

Rico clenched his teeth. "Gimme a reason."

"I'm worth more alive."

What the h.e.l.l was she talking about? Rico straggled to keep his face deadpan, concealing his surprise.

Did she think she'd been kidnapped? That someone intended to kill her? Rico thought he ought to explain, only he didn't wanna explain, not till he got the truth out of her. "You always say h.e.l.lo to a slag by trying to waste him?"

"What else could I do?" Farris seemed to get choked up. Her voice wavered. Tears spilled from her eyes. She moaned, looking around like she wanted to find some way out. "You had me, you brought me straight to him. He obviously hired you for that." She paused a moment, hand at her brow. Her fingers trembled visibly. "I can't believe this is happening. Isn't there anything I can say? I'll give you any amount of money, twice whatever he paid you, if you'll get me out of here."

Rico hated playing games like this, especially with a woman, especially with one who looked like she expected to be killed at any moment. It made him feel dirty-like slime. It didn't really matter that she was a suit, a corporate. She was still a woman. If so much wasn't at stake ... Rico clenched his teeth. "You got money?"

The question nailed her attention. Her eyes went wide. She nodded. Adamantly. "Yes, I have a lot of money. I don't... I don't care how much you want. Just let me go. Please let me go."

"Later," Rico said. "We'll talk about money later. I wanna know some things first."

She nodded, looking like she'd willingly tell him anything. Rico wondered whether to believe it.

"How'd you figure it out?" Rico said. "What we got in mind."

Farris lowered her face to her hand, stared at the bed. She seemed about to cry again. "I've known for some time that Ansell loathes me. He can be very vengeful. That's why he volunteered-"

"Volunteered? For what?"

Farris looked at him again. "You don't really need to know that. It's proprietary,"

Rico stepped toward the bed. "I'll tell you about proprietary. I almost got my cojones blown off coming after you. So you're gonna tell me what you know. Everything."

"Please ... I took an oath."

A real corporate thing to say.

Rico sat down on the edge of the bed facing her. A new rise of fear showed plainly in her eyes, yet something in the way she held her head, the angle of her chin, seemed almost like a challenge. Defiant.

That changed when the razorspurs slid out of the rear of Rico's arm and snicked softly into position. Farris'

eyes caught the movement. She looked, then looked again. When Rico lifted his forearm, moving those blades toward her throat, she stiffened, lifted her hands to her face, and leaned away.

Another moment and she was squirming.

She gasped. "Please!"

When she started shaking. Rico drew back. She was hard to read, and harder to figure. One big contradiction from start to finish. She could peddle that body of hers in any bar in the sprawl without even trying, yet she seemed sharp, maybe sharp enough to go anywhere, right to the top. She didn't seem like the type to be physically brave, and yet this same woman had just grabbed a gun and tried to blow away her own husband. What the h.e.l.l kind of sense did that make? None. None whatsoever. Surikov didn't seem to understand it. Rico sure didn't.

"Consider yourself threatened," he said. "Now talk."

Farris was more than just a few moments calming down. If it was an act, it was a fragging good one.

Every move flush, a seamless performance. Right down to the way she pursed her lips, as if forcing herself to at least seem in control of herself, when really she was shaking. Rico wasn't sure if he believed her act or not.

"You said your husband volunteered. Volunteered for what?"

"A special program," Farris said in a voice that seemed weak with emotion. "He didn't have to do it.

He did it to get away from me. To spite me."

"Spite you why?"

"Because things didn't work out."

"What things?"

She hesitated and swallowed visibly. "Our relations.h.i.+p," she said. "Our marriage."

Rico figured that much had to be true. If it hadn't been true, it was now. Unless Surikov didn't mind almost getting wasted by his wife. "Tell me about this special program. You said your husband volunteered.""It's a secret."

"You wanna get hurt?"

She lowered her head, shook it, and said, "It was a program to infiltrate Fuchi compet.i.tors. Security services have been doing that ... doing it forever. The problem is ... your average security operative lacks the qualifications to get at the data you really want. The agent typically ends up on the compet.i.tion's security staff or else posted in some security function to an executive, with only very limited access to proprietary material. The Fuchi program changed all that. We developed an interdisciplinary scheme for training scientists and researchers to work as security operatives, and to work effectively. That's basically what it was about."

"Keep talking."

Something crossed her face, maybe dismay. "The program was very involved," she said softly, almost moaning. "It was five years in the making. I was part of it from the beginning. Ansell resented the hours I logged. He's very possessive. He wanted me to be with him whenever he was free from his work. My work didn't matter to him. I tried working from our condo and ultimately went on leave, but by then it was too late. He resented me, resented everything about me, and that resentment turned vile. It turned into hatred."

"So he volunteered for your program."

"It was ... it was a way to use my own work against me. He felt that I had betrayed him. This was his revenge. Knowing how it would make me feel."

Rico wondered how much of this was true. Farris' file said that she had worked on some special project for going on five years. More than that, he didn't know. A lot of what Marena Farris was telling him wouldn't likely appear in any files. "Surikov's a big deal biotechnician. You're telling me Fuchi put this slag, this a.s.set, into some experimental program and sent him straight to the enemy. I don't buy it."

"Ansell's qualifications made him perfect for the role. That was the point of the program, to get astute people into the compet.i.tion's camp, people who would know what they were seeing, who could report in specific detail on how compet.i.tion research was developing." She hesitated a moment, wiped her eyes.

"Yes. Ansell Surikov is a highly qualified scientist with an enviable reputation. Fuchi has many highly qualified scientists with good reputations. None of mem are irreplaceable."

"Where'd they send him?"

"Kuze Nihon. A subsidiary, Maas Intertech. That's located in New Jersey."

"How long you been on leave?"

"About... about three years."

Her Fuchi file agreed. "Why do you rate your own personal security team?"

Farris hesitated, "I... I was never told why. In the beginning, I a.s.sumed it was because I had always been loyal to the corporation. I'm still an a.s.set, even if I am on leave. I haven't resigned."

"What makes you an a.s.set?"

"I'm a psychologist."

Her Fuchi file verified that. Fuchi had sent Farris to several universities in the U.C.A.S., and she'd earned a degree in psychology. It had seemed odd to Rico that a corp would spend money like that on a corporate hooker, but apparently it wasn't as strange as he thought. Piper said that a lot of the megacorps used their more sophisticated joygirls and joyboys a lot like shrinks. Some even worked as spies for corporate security.

That whole train of thought made Rico wonder if he was sitting next to something as potentially nasty as a trapdoor spider. Farris looked and acted upset, and yet the things she was saying told him that the brain behind her dark brown eyes was alive and working just fine. Did she really believe that her husband had hired help to murder her? That much didn't make much sense.

"Psychologists at Fuchi get personal security teams?"

"I suppose I'm a special case. Certain people hinted that threats had been made against Fuchi, against security personnel in particular. I accepted that. Later, as I put my life back together, I began to wonder if perhaps the threat had something to do with Ansell. Perhaps he had been found out. Perhaps Kuze Nihon was using threats against me to make Ansell work for them."

"Why would he care?"

"You would have to know Ansell to understand that."

"Try me."

She seemed puzzled for a moment. Whether puzzled by the demand or puzzled that it should be made, Rico couldn't tell. She said, "Ansell doesn't respond well to coercion. He's out of his element here, so you've probably found him-easy to deal with. In the corporate environment, where he's at home, he's highlyindependent of mind and intensely aware of his own personal purview. He believes he should be allowed to pursue his work utterly without supervision or constraint. He views even the slightest intervention by management as a complete usurpation of his rights as a scientist. That same egocentric perspective dominates his personal life as well. A threat against his wife would be no less a threat against him as a man. It wouldn't matter if he cared whether his wife lived or died. What would matter is his power to control what happened."

"If anybody's gonna ice you, it'll be him."

"That would be his view. Highly simplified."

"How does he go from spiting you to wanting to kill you?"

"Presumably, Maas Intertech realized he was an infiltrator and began using him as such, limiting his access, feeding him false data to pa.s.s along to Fuchi. They would naturally put restrictions on his research and he would resent this. Probably, he would blame me, for if I had not encouraged his spite, he would not have gotten into a situation like that. It's all my fault, you see."

"So he'd come after you for revenge."

"Isn't it obvious?"

"You make him sound like a psycho."

"Then I haven't been clear." Farris paused, wiped at her eyes some more. "Perhaps I should explain that the desire for personal power is a defining factor in many men, just as the desire to form cooperative relations.h.i.+ps is a factor in many women's development and personalities. Ansell is as rational a man as you might ever meet He functions very effectively in the corporate milieu. His personal power is extremely important to him, but he's not inflexible, not compulsive, in the clinical sense. At times, he deliberately exaggerates his need for control, as a ruse he uses merely to achieve a degree of control that he'll be comfortable with, knowing all the while that certain of his demands will be refused."

"Rational men don't dust their wives."

"If you really believe that, you've been misinformed."

"Yeah?"

"Rational people sometimes do irrational things. I'm explaining myself to you at length when I should probably be saying as little as possible."

"You been threatened."

"Yes, I know." She pressed a few curling strands of hair back from the side of her face. Her fingers gave a tremble-so slight Rico almost missed it. "Fear may be a rational response to danger, but it does not necessarily motivate rational behavior." She paused again and swallowed. "I want to cooperate fully because I'd rather you were my ally than someone I should fear. I try to avoid cla.s.sic behaviors like that, and yet I find that I can't Right now, it's practically a compulsion."

"Right now" bothered Rico a good deal less than what might be somewhere ahead of him.

Marena Farris was going to be trouble.