Fall Revolution 4: The Sky Road

who’d have
understood its significance was Reid.
    ‘Don’t worry,’ said Valentina.
    ‘What does the International want with – oh, fuck.
I can think of any number of things it might want with
them.’
    Valentina nodded. ‘Some of them could be to our
advantage.’
    ‘Hah. I’ll be the judge of that. You’ve kept
the access codes to yourself?’
    ‘Of course!’
    ‘Well, that’s something.’
    ‘So our man’s proposing in a buy-out, is
he?’ Val-entina continued. ‘Could be worth
considering.’
    ‘Yeah.’ Myra stood up, taking her glass.
‘I’m going to talk to him some more. Thanks for the
update, Val.’
    She refilled her glass, with vodka this time, and set out in a
carefully casual ramble to where Reid stood chatting to an
awestruck gaggle of low-level functionaries. Denis Gubanov and
one of Reid’s greps circled unobtrusively, keeping a wary
distance from the group and from each other, each at a La-grange
point of his own. She couldn’t hear the conversation. On
her way, she was intercepted by Alexander Sherman. The Industry
Commissar was wearing the same sharp plastic suit, its colour
adjusted to black. He looked shiftier than usual; a bad sign.
    ‘Ah, Myra. A sad day for us all.’ He shook his
head slowly. ‘A sad day.’
    ‘Yes,’ said Myra. The phrase get on with it once more came to mind.
    Alex took a deep breath and, as if telepathic, announced, T
have something to tell you. It’s not a good time,
but… Well, I’ve had an offer from Mr
Reid.’
    ‘To buy out our assets?’
    ‘No, no!’ Alex looked surprised at the suggestion.
‘An employment offer.’
    ‘Oh, right,’ said Myra dismissively. She waved a
hand as she walked past him. ‘Take it.’
     
    She could see herself in the big gilt-framed mirrors as she
walked up; they faced similar mirrors at the far side of the
room, and for a moment she saw herself multiplied, a potential
infinity of different versions of herself: a visual, virtual
image of themany worlds interpretation. She had entertained a
childish notion, once, that mirror images might be windows into
those other worlds. Did the photon ever decide, she’d
wondered, did it ever turn aside in its reflection?
    What she saw was the endlessly repeated image of a tall, thin
woman in a long black dress, moving towards the still oblivious
Reid like some MIRVed nemesis. She saw the flickered glances
exchange their messages, between her Security Commissar,
Reid’s security man, Reid, and herself, until Reid’s
reflected eyes met her actual eyes, and widened.
    She encountered a sort of deadness in the air, and realised
that the security men were, between them, setting up audio
countermeasures, casting a cloak of silence around the group.
Then she was through the region of dead air, where the voices
were garbled and strange, and suddenly the conversation was
audible – for the moment before it died on the lips of
those who noticed her arrival.
    ‘Well, hello again,’ she said. Her gaze swept the
half-dozen of her employees gathered around Reid; they were all
making comical efforts to flee, walking backwards as discreetly
as possible. ‘Head-hunting my lower-middle cadres as well
as my commissars?’
    Tup,’ said Reid, quite unabashed. He made a fractional
movement of his fingertips and eyebrows, and his supplicants
– or applicants – dispersed like smoke in a draught.
The grep and Gubanov continued their watchful mutual circling. A
waiter went past with a salver of glasses and a tray of Beluga on
rye; Myra and Reid helped themselves from both, then stood facing
each other with a slight awkwardness, like tongue-tied teenagers
after a dance.
    ‘I could do some head-hunting the other way, you
know,’ Myra said. ‘Perhaps I should buy a spy or
twofrom you. It turns out you’re better informed about our
investment portfolio than I’ve been. Particularly its, ah,
spread.’
    Reid acknowledged this with a small nod.
    Tuts us in a difficult position,’ he said. ‘You
have the drop on us, frankly. Earth orbit is the high ground,
after all.’
    Oh? she thought to herself. So he didn’t know
about Lagrange? Or didn’t want her to know he knew.
    ‘However,’ Reid went on, Tm pretty confident that
you won’t, um, liquidate. For obvious reasons.’
    ‘So why the offer?’
    ‘Peace of mind… nah, seriously. Between us, you
and I know everyone who knows of the current level of exposure.
But