Deathwatch (The Faded Earth Book 1)(61)
Beck shrugged. “I had the idea, I was bored, and you gave me the freedom to order anything I wanted for my work.”
This was strictly speaking probably not what the old man intended her to use it for, but he also hadn’t forbidden it. Beck suspected the allowance was made so she could undertake her hobbies so as not to slowly go insane from isolation. The thought made her think of poor Eshton, still locked away, and then to her family, who were all beyond such worries. Those flashes of them came more frequently lately, and at the oddest times. It was to be expected when you had a great deal of time to think and dwell, yet the memories grew less painful as the days wore on.
She found that relieving and upsetting.
“What did you discover at Shān? I assume that’s why you wanted to talk,” Bowers said.
Beck tossed the armor back onto the work bench. “Do you want me to send you the data, or give you the salient bits?”
Bowers waved a hand. “Give me your analysis. Being in charge means I have to trust my people to do their jobs without me sifting through the work.”
Beck nodded. “I believe he’s part of it. Gilman took a day off for the first time I can find, locked himself in his isolation chamber hours before the alarms, and once he was evacuated through the undercity and transported out of the Rez, he disappeared. Can’t find a trace of the guy anywhere.”
She had discovered that part while standing in the decontamination room as she left Shān. Beck wanted to know his location in case something in his files was damning enough to justify going after him tonight.
“Nothing?” Bowers asked. “No transfer orders, no follow-ups with the chapterhouse in whatever Rez he ended up in?”
“Not a sign,” Beck said with a shake of her head. “He went all the way to Rez Manhattan, was checked through the Watch post there and passed decontamination checks, then evaporated. I brought up the security feeds from his departure and wouldn’t you know it, turns out I’m not the only one who can doctor feeds and erase data.”
Bowers steepled his fingers in front of his face, managing to look thoughtful and angry at the same time. “Well. This complicates matters. We can’t simply make broad accusations, and proof seems thin on the ground. How do you suggest you move forward from here?”
Beck smiled. “Whoever is running this operation was smart. They clearly have some Deathwatch in their pocket to have altered our feeds and make this guy vanish. But now we know there’s a method to it. Tell me, would you kill every agent who served their purpose?”
Bowers grunted a laugh. “If I did, I’d soon be the only person left. My people are extremely good at their jobs.”
“Exactly,” Beck said. “My guess is every time they manufacture a Bloom, whether it’s successful or not, they move the agent responsible somewhere and hide them until things have calmed down enough that no suspicion could fall on them. It’s extraordinarily cautious and presumes someone might be looking for these people. The shadows we’re hunting are careful enough to assume they might be watched, but good enough at managing resources not to waste valuable assets like people.”
Bowers raised an eyebrow. “How does this help us?”
“Because now we know what to look for,” Beck said. “At some point soon I’m going to have to try accessing civilian Science division’s isolated servers. When I do, I need to know specifically who I’m looking for. If Gilman is proof of concept for how these people try to make blooms happen, then all I have to do is look through every reported case of Fade B, look for commonalities in medical staff, then pull records to see who they communicate with regularly. If Gilman talked with another person who fits the profile, and either or both of them talked to a third, I can start working out who is in their network. All I need to find a second point of reference is to see who survived previous blooms and vanished for a little while. Or build a script to sort out who activated isolation chambers before bloom alarms went off. Or even look for personnel who might have transferred from a Rez medical center after a failed attempt at causing a bloom. Because there are probably few enough agents in their organization that a small number of them would have to rotate around regularly.”
Bowers raked her with the piercing gaze he used when trying to suss out the motive in a person, a useful skill for a leader of men to have. The intensity of that look had a way of forcing small discomfort to translate into visible tells in body language. Beck knew it just well enough to force herself to remain still.
“Just like, for example, whoever must have injected your own family,” Bowers finally said. “That would be a data point you could work from.”
Beck met his eyes with a level gaze of her own. “Yes, sir. There are enough instances of Fade B that I could use nearly any of them whether they resulted in a bloom or not. What bothers me is how reckless it all is. So many attempts that had all of them been successful, the population of the Protectorate might have been reduced by half.”
“Yes, I’m sure that’s what bothers you the most,” Bowers said in a dry tone. “I suspect most of those infected would have been reported anonymously if they didn’t report themselves as your parents did. We do have a system for that. I don’t believe for a moment that our enemy lets a bloom happen without their express consent. Letting cases of Fade B pop up in between blooms keeps the fear alive.”