Claire studied Renata out of the corner of her eye. Her mannerisms were so... carefree. Not exactly childlike but completely devoid of the somber poise common to Uley. If you had dropped Renata, the big smile, wide eyes, and purple dress in the middle of an Uley's skyscraper, people would pretend she wasn't there. They'd just refuse to see her. Maybe some well -meaning soul would walk up to her and confidential y inform her that her hair was too bright and she was making a fool of herself...
A mental tug interrupted Claire's musings. Venturo Escana, approaching fast. A walking mental firestorm of a mind behind an invisible wal of a steel will .
"Al set." Renata raised her hands from the keys. "Did you review the Sangori file?"
"Yes." Venturo's mind was coming closer.
"And the recommendations?
"Yes."
"Good! Be ready to spit it all back at Ven when he comes by. He has a meeting with them later this afternoon and he prefers the spoken summary. But don't worry, he knows most of the file already. He just needs a refresher course."
He had a heightened auditory focus - his mind processed sound better than visual cues. Although for most people the theory of learning styles had long been debunked, for psychers it remained true: some were visual learners, some listened, and others had to write every scrap of information down. She'd worked with auditory psychers like that before. There was a trick to it - the combination of the correct intonation, vocabulary, and the information presented in a logical manner.
Renata's eyes widened. "Speak of the devil."
Venturo had turned the corner. Claire braced herself and turned to look, slowly.
The amicable man she saw yesterday was gone. He wore a black shirt that clung to him like paint, focusing attention on every contoured muscle. A fine mesh of hair-thin fibers snaked its way through the fabric, widening into oblong scales on his chest and the larger muscles of his shoulders. He looked as if he wore armor, if armor could be flexible and formfitting. His eyes were dark, and his mind churned - something occupied his attention. He moved with a purpose, striding straight down the hal way with a kind of fierce masculine determination. People moved out of his way.
"What is he wearing?" Claire murmured.
"What is he wearing?" Claire murmured.
"A bionet suit. When psychers log into the net, their bodies don't move at all. A human body isn't designed to be completely immobile unless it floats," Renata said. "The suits start pulsing after a while, exercising the muscles and making sure lymph keeps moving."
A bionet suit. Claire recal ed waking up cramped up after hours in bionet and wincing as the medic massaged her limbs back into life.
"Someone's smitten," Renata said.
Claire glanced at her. "Is it that obvious?"
"Yes. Very." Renata paused. "Claire, you do know what psychers do, don't you?"
She needed to give a general answer. "Provide security?"
"If they catch hackers on the bionet, they kil them."
Renata leaned closer. "Venturo's death count is in dozens.
You can't keep doing that sort of work and not be affected."
You don't say.
"He looks delicious and golden, but his head is a dark place. He was attacked in front of our building once - four people - and he drove each of them to impale themselves onto an iron fence, one by one. You don't need to tangle with that kind of mind. Trust me on this."
"I understand," Claire said.
"There is a reason why psychers in Guardian Inc. aren't permitted to read our minds. Sometimes a two-way connection happens and you see things in their heads.
Dark things. He's a kinsman - all they care about is power and influence. Not to mention that nothing serious could ever come from it. Psychers love other psychers.
Something about joining of the minds, and all that."
Venturo saw them. His steps sped up a fraction.
Renata fell silent.
Claire looked down at her tablet.
Venturo stopped by them. "Renata, where is the new hire? The refugee?"
Claire glanced up. Renata cleared her throat and pointed at Claire with her stylus. Venturo turned. His eyes narrowed.
For a brief, tiny second the two of them were alone in the Universe, and then he nodded. "Love the hair. I need the summary of the Sangori file."
He turned and stalked into his office.
Renata jerked her head in the direction of his retreating back and mouthed, "Go."
Claire smiled inwardly and fol owed.
Venturo landed in his chair, his face dark, and leaned back, hands on the arm rest. The door slid shut, sealing them from the rest of the offices. Claire sat.
"Sangori File," Claire began, enunciating clearly to let him tag it in his head. "Principals: Savien Sangori, head of the family, sixty-two years old, grey hair, stocky build, tendency to lick his lips when he is nervous."
"Was this in the file?" he asked.
"This was in the news footage which I watched this morning. It was recorded when he was interviewed last year in connection with insider trading."
He nodded. "Continue."
"Maureen Sangori, wife of Savien, fifty-seven years old, dark hair, lean, Combat implant of at least B level.
Prefers knives. Quick to anger. Likes the color white: white dress, white flowers, white aerial..."
It took her about an hour to recite the Sangori file.
Sangori Finances, the investment concern with net worth of one point two bil ion credits, had grown too large for the common computing solutions. The firm prepared to switch to bionet by launching the new incarnation of the management system that all owed their clients instant access to their portfolio. They were in desperate need of a bionet safety solution and Guardian Inc. was happy to provide them with one.
Venturo listened with his eyes closed without interruptions. There was always a chance that she miscalculated, but most psychers perceived and processed the information similarly. She had presented it the way her own mind analyzed it, except she preferred her cues to be visual.
"End file," she said.
Venturo opened his eyes.
A digital screen chimed. "Sangori appointment in twenty minutes, Red Conference Room."
Ven stood up, went to the door, and paused by Renata's desk. "Take her off routine processing."
"For how long?" Renata asked.
"Until further notice." Ven started down the hal way and turned, walking backward. "Come on."
Claire pointed at herself. "Me?"
"Who else?"
She caught up with him. "Where are we going?"