Fugitive Telemetry (The Murderbot Diaries #6)(28)

Indah hesitated, then switched to her all-team comm, “Aylen, come with me, we’ve got to reorganize this. I think we’re wrong about that module.” She told Matif, “Tell the search parties to resume, and we’re extending the search to the Public Docks.”

Matif glanced at Soire, clearly dubious. “Uh, all right. I mean, yes, Senior.”

Indah and Aylen were already walking away and I followed them. Keeping her voice low, Indah said, “Comms off.” Aylen immediately complied and my drone video showed a visible shift in her attitude, from confused protest to still confused but no longer protesting.

Indah added, “SecUnit, I assume you can get me a secure connection to the station responder?”

“Yes. This way.” I secured a connection with Dr. Mensah’s feed. Hi. I have a request.

I knew from her guard drones that she was still in the council offices on the other side of the station mall, working in her feed. What’s up?

Senior Indah and I need to borrow your private office.



* * *



Mensah’s private office was close by, in the admin block with the Port Authority. But the important part was that her comm and security monitoring wasn’t connected to either StationSec or any of the PortAuth systems, it was a separate secure system used by the council.

And it was really secure, because one of the first jobs Mensah had got for me was to make sure it was “up to date and resistant to corporate or other incursion.”

It was such a relief to step into a place where I had control of the security. As we crossed the tiled floor of the lobby I felt the tension in the organic parts of my back ease. Mensah had notified her staff to let us through, and I removed us from the surveillance camera, just in case.

One of her assistants opened the inner office for us. He had already closed and opaqued the transparent doors on the balcony that looked out over the admin plaza. He was used to me and used to confidential council stuff, so he didn’t even glance up at my drones, just nodded to us and slipped out as we stepped in. He said, “I’ll be in the reception area, just message me when you’re finished,” and engaged the privacy seal on the door.

Indah had been here before but Aylen clearly hadn’t, and looked around at the family images and the plants. (It was a nice office, I had spent a lot of time on the couch.) I used the feed to open the secure terminal, and the big display surface formed in the air above the desk. I opened the secure channel for Indah and for Mensah, who had been holding on her secure feed in the council offices. Then I sent a hail for the responder. When it answered, I opened the connection.

Indah ordered the responder to scan the ships in holding positions off the station and sent the module’s specifications. She told them there was a possibility the Port Authority systems had been compromised and they needed to communicate only with her or Aylen, and via the council system and not Station Security’s system. The responder asked for a confirmation order from the council and Mensah supplied it. Mensah then signed off, telling Indah to contact her immediately if she needed any other assistance, and Indah thanked her.

Then me, Aylen, and Indah were standing in the office looking at each other. Or they were looking at me and my drones were looking at them.

“You really think our systems are compromised?” Aylen asked.

Indah had her arms folded, her expression grim. It had occurred to me she was maybe worried about feeling stupid too, if we were wrong about this. She said, “Yes. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

I had control of all inputs to this room’s comm and feed, and I caught and bounced a comm call for Indah with Balin the Port Authority bot’s feed ID. It was probably an important call from Gamila but if something had blown up the council’s system would notify us and everything else could wait five minutes. It was time to be honest. I told Indah, “You were wrong when you said it was unlikely to be a local actor. But I think you know that now.”

Indah glared at me, but it was more wry than angry. “Is that what you think? Because you keep insisting it’s a mysterious ultra-hacker.”

Okay, that one stung. “I didn’t use the words ‘mysterious’ or ‘ultra.’”

Aylen watched like it was one of those human games where they threw balls at each other. (I’d had to stop a lot of those while on company contracts; they violated the company personal injury safety bonds.) (Yeah, it was super fun telling the humans they couldn’t do it because SecUnits always like giving their clients more reasons to hate them.) But Aylen also looked relieved. Like she was beginning to wonder if we were stupid or what. She muttered, “Thank the divine, can we talk about it like adults now?”

Indah pointed the glare at her. “If the Port Authority systems weren’t hacked, then the files and camera data were altered by someone on station who has legitimate access, who knew how to cover their tracks.” She made an impatient gesture. “It even fits with the tool that was used to remove contact DNA from the body. The PA uses sterilizers for hazardous material safety, they’re all over the port offices.”

Aylen nodded. “But who? Everyone’s worked here for years, grew up here.”

I told Indah, “You thought it was me.”

She snorted in exasperation. “We thought it was you when we thought Lutran was a GrayCris agent. But we disproved that—I forget how many hours ago that was, this has been a long damn day.”