Read Online Acts of Conscience by William Barton - Free Book Online Page A

visible in her eyes, the set of her jaw. There were two beefy guys from corporate security standing at the end of the table, looking us over. Two guys with a look of the gymnasium, a look of athletic drugs about them, stun rods dangling from their brown belts.
    Looking us over, eyes almost amiable. Then looking right at me, one of them said,  “Gaetan du Cheyne?”
    “Uh, sure.”
    “You’re wanted in the shop supervisory office.”
    Albacore ? Maybe Ross hadn’t taken as well as I thought to... “I’m off the clock now,” gesturing at my lunch. “Why the hell didn’t they just send a netmemo?” Garstang’s voice, a little shaky: “Gaetan...” Unstated: These are security guys !
    The one who was doing the talking put his thumbs through his belt, heel of one hand bumping the stun rod, making it swing a little. He said, “You’re wanted in the shop supervisory office. Right now.”
    Rua Mater’s voice from the other end of the table: “Gaetan, you want me to call the shop steward for you?”
    Rua Mater maybe not so disinterested after all. Maybe I should have climbed in the shower with her, brief jolt of memory even now a slight pang somewhere in the neighborhood of my prostate gland. I eased back my chair and stood. “No. I guess not.”
    The security asshole smiled and glanced at his chum. “Smarter than he looks.”
    So what did these little bully boys think was going on? Were they looking forward to zapping me in front of a whole room full of workers? Probably dumber than they looked.
    Garstang said, “What’s this about, Gaetan?”
    I shrugged. Why tell... But then I said, “Probably about my Berens-Vataro stock options. They’ve been trying to get me to sell them.”
    Garstang’s eyes wide. “ Sell ?”
    I turned away, walking beside the two security guys, walking away from the table, grabbing my equilibrimotor from the wall rack and... Voice inside: What do you think? Are those livre signs in her eyes? Nice big £’s waking up her libido?
    So what am I imagining? Am I imagining once she finds out how much money is at stake here, I’ll get her back from Phil Hendrickx after all these years? She must care you know. That business with Rua Mater... She was still staring at me from across the room when the elevator door slid shut, closing us off from one another.
    o0o
    Then, I sat in a supervisory office, somewhere deep inside the main ERSIE-5 administrative complex, sat in an antique wooden chair across a wooden desk from a woman in a creaky leather chair, woman dressed in a fine azure suit of soft, watered silk, no one I’d ever seen before. She smiled and reached out her hand for me to shake. “How’re you doing, Mr. du Cheyne?”
    The name on the door. “Miss Yoshida?”
    She nodded, still smiling. “Do you have any idea why you’re here?”
    All I could do was shrug, try to smile back. You’re not in trouble. No trouble at all. Nothing’s at stake but a decision on whether to hold out for the most money you can possibly... “Well. If there’s no trouble with the Albacore decommissioning project...”
    The net node embedded in her desktop was flickering, displaying images for her eyes only. Maybe Rossignol did send in a report. They could bust me a whole step for grabbing him like that. On the other hand, they’d find out just what happened. Maybe I’d be getting a bonus. Maybe Ross would be losing his gold belt, sitting in another office somewhere nearby, sweating your proverbial bullets.
    I said, “I’m guessing this is about the stock options thing.”
    The smile slowly faded. “Du Cheyne, I don’t know what this is really all about. I got a router instruction this morning... waiting for me here when I logged on. I...” A long hesitation. An odd look. What had all the smiling been about? Maybe she figured I’d let her in on the secret before... She said, “Look, this is nothing personal. I’ve got a router instruction in my pad and a job to do. You understand?”
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