I figure you’ve chosen an abandoned route and over-ridden the drones for a reason.”

“Good for you, big boy. After this conversation, you’re going to double time it on your way.”

“So what did you want to say?”

“You are busy digging a grave for yourself here. You’re offending a lot of people and giving the politicos an excuse to bury you.”

“You think?”

“It’s my job to know.”

“I didn’t know you cared.”

“Be a wise guy. But here’s something I suggest you do at some point and as subtly as you can manage. Check your memory logs.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“Because somebody has been tampering with them. They’ve been doing it and in a way that’s going to be hard to spot. The blockchains are being corrected.”

“What?” This was particularly strange. It meant somebody was hacking all the way back to core record systems. And that was something only an A.I. could do.

“Your memory files are corrupt. You die, you won’t be coming back. Well not as you are.”

“How do you know this?”

“I have my methods.”

I was trying to think what those could be if she could trace something that was rewriting the very DNA of the infosystems. Did she have a bootleg in an isolation core for comparison?

“And you would never lie to me,” I said, heavy on the irony, light on the menace.

“Not about this,” she said and she sounded sincere. Of course, she always sounded sincere. And convincing. That was her job and she was very good at it.

“That all you’ve got to say?”

“Consider the fact that you getting caught in that ambush might not have been an accident. Watch yourself, lover. Bad times coming. Wouldn’t want to lose you for good.”

And with that she was gone. Just stepped back into the corridor and away. Maybe she had not been there at all. Maybe it was a hologram or something blasted directly into my brain through my armor’s Grid-links. I did not like the thought that anyone could be so fast or so stealthy. The golems came to life and extended their pace. I did the same. Carla had given me something more to think about than the Faith militias.

Chapter Four

I had not seen the Colonel look so angry since, well, my last court martial. She had turned the stereovid of her kids face down on the desk as if she didn’t want them looking at me.

She was a handsome Zulu woman with cropped gray hair. She sat at a real wooden desk, with the stars and stripes of the Republic behind her, framed by the eagles of StarForce. Her lips were compressed. Her brown eyes were narrowed and mean-looking, her breathing regular and controlled.