A Murder of Clones: A Retrieval Artist Universe Novel by Kristine Kathryn Rusch Read Free Book Online Page B

humans. She wasn’t even sure if “asylum from humans” was a proper request.
    She headed back to her cabin to contact whatever idiot lawyer FSS managed to have on call.

 
     
     
     
     
    FIVE
     
     
    THE IDIOT LAWYER hovering on the other side of the table in Gomez’s office was older than she expected, and not as vain as some people his age. His holographic image shimmered, either as a result of the extreme encryption necessary to have this conversation or because of the distance between them. He was chubby, stuffed in a cheap suit, and had no obvious enhancements. His fleshy face showed signs of exhaustion.
    She saw none of that as a good sign. If the idiot lawyer wasn’t fresh out of law school and working in the prosecutor’s office as a junior attorney attached to the FSS, then he was most likely a lifer who had given up on any ambitions or creativity long ago. Or he was a supervisor.
    She was praying for supervisor.
    In fact, she was going to be blunt about a supervisor.
    Before she even said hello, she said, “No offense, but I need a ranking prosecutor who has worked on Frontier issues his entire career. Are you that person?”
    To her surprise, he smiled slowly and it softened his features. “And if I said I was and I was lying, do you have a way to check?”
    She did. She had hundreds of databases at her fingertips in this office attached to her private suite. Some of those databases were what she liked to call extra-legal. Others were sanctioned.
    The only problem she had was that the official FSS database she carried was about a year old. She hadn’t updated in a long time, because her secure connections out here on the Frontier were as good as the one she had with him.
    Which was to say, unreliable at best.
    But she didn’t want to look him up. She’d have to terminate the conversation, investigate, and then request him (or not) when she contacted the judicial branch attached to the FSS a second time.
    “So this is the kind of conversation we’re going to have?” she asked him. “Defensive and territorial? Because I’ve got big issues here, and I want someone not just experienced, but experienced with clout.”
    “Why?” he asked.
    “Name, position, and for God’s sake, tell me if you can help me, because if you can’t, I’m going to find someone who can,” she snapped.
    He grinned. “Your reputation precedes you, Marshal. You never call in for legal help. You know more about the Frontier and its legal issues than most lifers here ever will. So when you pinged us, we knew it was important, and you got me.”
    She wanted to ask, So I should be impressed? but she didn’t. Instead, she waited. Waiting had become part of her arsenal over her years as a marshal. Waiting protected her from blurting something stupid to an intelligent species she didn’t understand; waiting helped her discover many crimes because humans generally couldn’t remain silent; waiting made her seem mysterious and strong when, in reality, she was often just plain cautious.
    The caution was why she was good at her job.
    He tilted his head and gave her a half-smile, as if he were acknowledging that she had just won this part of the conversation.
    “I’m Frank Mishra,” he said. “I’m one of the chief litigators for the FSS. I’m also linked at the moment to one of our best legal researchers, just in case you have an issue we haven’t heard of before.”
    So they really were worried about the issue she was bringing up. The respect surprised her. She hadn’t experienced it in her early years with FSS, and after those early years, she hadn’t really needed the judicial branch.
    She’d made sure of that. She had hated dealing with officious bastards.
    “All right,” she said, making sure her tone wasn’t quite as abrupt as it had been. She folded her hands on the tabletop and watched his chubby image flicker. “Let me explain my issue. I have a young man who survived an attack by humans in his own