“What the hell were you trying to do?” Michael demanded in a hoarse whisper as he touched the control for the cubicle’s sound dampener.
“You’ve been holding out on us, Michael,” said Phil. “You’ve got this base bugged into the middle of next week, and you didn’t think you should tell us about it.”
“I showed you all security measures pertaining to the Discovery,” said Michael slowly, enunciating each word. “I gave you every authorization—”
“You’ve got a private copy of every single conversation that goes on on this base,” croaked Angela. “E-time or face-time. Wouldn’t the good citizens of Venera like to know about that? Does Grandma Helen even know?”
Of course she does; she approved the design. Michael didn’t say that. There was nothing he could say. The files existed. Gregory Schoma had created the programs and done the wiring. Michael had never needed to resort to them for any case he’d supervised, but they were there all the same. Everyone more or less expected message logs to be kept, but message texts? Usually written permission had to be obtained before private e-mail could be stored. Venera was very proud of its privacy regulations.
But what was he going to say to these two? That he didn’t approve of those copies? That he’d never used them? He’d never erased them either.
“If you’d told me what you were looking for,” said Michael, “I’d have given it to you without the hackwork.”
“Would you?” Philip lifted his eyebrows. “I want to believe you, Michael, but—”
Michael waved his hand to cut the other man off. “I’m not going to play Prove-It-To-Me with you. What do you want? If I’ve got it, I’ll give it to you.”
“Who faked the Discovery?” asked Angela.
Michael blinked. “Derek and Kevin Cusmanos. They confessed.”
Angela shook her head gently. For the first time since entering the cubicle, Michael found a moment to wonder if she was still in pain. She still had plenty of tubes and monitors taped to her bare arms.
“They didn’t do it alone. You know that, Michael,” she said. “You’re not stupid and you know the people around here much better than we do.” Her voice took on a rasp. Philip drew a glass of water from the dispenser and handed it to her. She sipped. “So who else faked the Discovery?”
Michael weighed his options. He could stall, he could lie, or he could be straight with them. He didn’t really like any of the choices. At last, he said, “I don’t know.”
“Was it Dr. Failia?”
“What?” The word jerked Michael out of his slump. Angela didn’t bat an eye; neither did Philip.
“She has complete control of Venera’s financial records,” said Phil. “The base is her whole life, and it was about to die. People around here worship her. They’d start a war if she asked them to. It would not be hard for her to funnel the necessary money down to the Cusmanos brothers so they could do the deed.”
“No,” said Michael.
“No, you know she didn’t do it, or no, you don’t want to believe she would?” Philip looked down his nose at Michael. “You’re a v-baby, aren’t you?”
Anger rushed through Michael’s veins. He clamped his jaw shut around the words that wanted to tumble out.
When he was certain he had control of his voice, he said, “There are some things Helen wouldn’t do, even for Venera.”
“Are there?” whispered Angela. “There are two dead men next door to us, Mr. Lum. Who else on this base would people kill or die for?”
They were trying to anger him, trying to get him to doubt what he knew. It was a good tactic, and they played it out like the pros they were. But a tactic was all it was, a game, a way to try to turn him against Helen and Venera. That was all.
“The Cusmanoses died of food poisoning,” lied Michael, slowly, reasonably. “We found a whole batch with the same contamination and have closed the brewery. It was bad luck.”
“It was dead convenient,” said Philip. “And you’re being deliberately obtuse.”
Michael just smiled a little. “And you two are completely objective and did not get sent up here with any agenda at all. The C.A.C. just wants what’s best for the planets. Am I right?”
“Come on, Michael.” Angela rolled her eyes. “You’re too smart for this.”
Michael nodded again. “You’re right. I am.”
He left them there and made his way back to the main corridor and joined the flow of life that swirled through Venera, all day, every day. This was his home, his place, his life. He knew its upside, and its underside. He knew what the people sheltered here would and would not do.