“Davey Neus?” Tam frowned. “He was taken in five years ago.” Or they had tried to take him in. He’d been found dead in the lockup, hanged with his blanket. Constable Regan had never shaken the idea that someone else had arranged the appearance of suicide.
But Risha shook her head. “Not him. I’m surprised he lived as long as he did. There’s another guy. Wilseck Valerlie. Runs a bulk trading post. I went in, he gave me something to knock me out, I woke up when it was over.”
“And that’s all you know?”
“I hurt like hell, and he promised me you’d never know.” She scowled and looked away. “Serves him right you take him in.”
Stem. A new tailor in Stem. Tam rubbed his forehead. Where were they operating from? Where had Davey operated from? He had died before they had been able to bring him into the hothouse for questioning. His operation could very well have been left abandoned for someone else to take over.
Or Constable Regan could be right and someone had killed Davey to keep him from spilling their secrets. He remembered the way Regan scowled at the record sheets.
“This is a hacker, not a tailor. I don’t care what they say about the body being an organic computer, he did not jump from one specialty to the other.”
He’d been right, of course, and Tam had ordered Stem watched. Regan had watched, and Nan Elle’s grandson, Farin, had watched, and so had Nan Elle herself. But none of them had seen anything. Yet Risha could not be lying to him. Her history was there in her blood and bones.
Where would a tailor operate out of in Stem? It was a small village. There was nowhere to hide in the dunes. All at once, Tam’s mind filled with images of the red cliffs rising beside Lake Superior.
No. It was not possible. Hiding in the cliffs would involve being able to get past the fences and the video and mote cameras that monitored the coast near Stem. No villager could do that without help from a family member, and no family member would do such a thing. Even as he thought about it, his Conscience was berating him. Such a massive transgression would be recorded by the Conscience and reported to Aleph and the Guardians as soon as it was revealed.
Unless, of course, that conscience belonged to Dionte or himself.
Oh, no.
Would she trust a villager that much? Would she be able to resist when the situation was so perfect? A tailor who was smart enough to use front men to avoid getting caught, and in the heart of Tam’s own administrative territory, which would be the last place he’d look for the stolen Eden Project.
Oh, Sister. You are very good.
For five years he had tracked her movements, looking for patterns. But she was discreet in the extreme. She might even know he was watching her. They barely spoke anymore. He feared that even his truncated Conscience would register the enormous guilt and anger he felt every time he faced her, knowing what she had done to Helice Trust. If his Conscience recorded the strength of his emotions, he’d be scheduled for counseling after his next head dump, and possibly even an adjustment to his Conscience. Any such adjustment would be supervised by Dionte, and what Dionte would do to him…
Tam had to work not to close his eyes against that thought.
Risha coughed, reminding Tam that he was not alone. He touched the display on the back of his hand, entering his personal rejection of her filing, along with the records that already marked her as unfit for participating in the continuation of the Eden Project. He also added, on his authority as Offshoot’s administrator, that the subject posed no community danger, was guilty of only bad judgment, and was to be granted free return to Offshoot.
“I’ll walk you to the waiting room. There will be a number of returnees. You’ll be home soon.” He paused. “And you’ll be allowed to reclaim your clothes.”
“Thank you, Administrator,” she said politely but suspiciously; only the barest hint of trust in her voice said she believed he was really letting her walk away.
Tam began to stand, but the door swished open and he froze, startled. Hagin stepped across the threshold, with Shacte, tall, dark, and stern, following close behind him. Shacte was an apprentice Guardian, one of Dionte’s people.
In the next cold second, Tam knew Dionte had finally decided she could not leave him free anymore.
“I’m sorry, Tam,” murmured Hagin. “But we are told that your Conscience needs to be adjusted. Aleph has found a problem. You’ll have to come with us.”
Tam straightened himself up. Risha watched him with panic plain in her eyes. Tam motioned to her to keep calm. He could not take care of himself, but perhaps it was not too late to take care of her.
“I see.” His voice was cool, almost disinterested. “Very well, but Risha needs to be walked to the waiting room with the other returnees.”