assets and endangering its corporate infrastructure.”
“Who is this…enemy?” Mike still didn’t like to use that word. It made the whole thing sound like a war, and that terrified him.
“Dellia Thomas,” Elle said. A basic profile showing a pretty, dark-haired young woman came on his screen. “Former researcher at OpenLife Biomedical, now listed as the number one threat to Silte Corporation and Guardian Police Association.”
“And Adelson willingly aided her?”
“I’m sorry,” Elle said, her usually bright face showing concern (one of the few human emotions artificial personalities got right). “Please modify your question, Mr. Torres.”
“Hmm.” Mike thought for a moment. “Do we have evidence that Adelson knew he was aiding an enemy rather than simply neglecting to carry out his orders?”
“Lorne Adelson aided the enemy through inaction,” Elle said. “I can’t say anything more based on the report.”
“Dammit.” Mike was tired of reports lacking the information he wanted. Based on the alarmingly precise and intimate knowledge his company had gathered about almost every enemy or threat, there was no good reason he shouldn’t be getting the answers he needed. He made a mental note to address this incompetence during the next team meeting.
“I am sorry for upsetting you, Mr. Torres.”
“No, it’s not you,” Mike assured her, before realizing how strange it was to be concerned about the feelings of an artificial personality. Choosing a different tactic, he thought carefully about how to word his next line of questioning. “Was Dellia Thomas an enemy before this incident at OpenLife occurred?”
“ Dellia Thomas was never listed as a suspicious or disloyal employee,” Elle said. “She did not become an enemy of Silte Corporation until after her theft at OpenLife Biomedical.”
At last, Mike got the answer he was looking for. “So,” he said, absently reaching for the glass decanter of single malt scotch he had recently taken to keeping on the table behind his desk. “Neither Adelson nor Silte had any reason to suspect Miss Thomas before this event. We have no evidence that Adelson was helping her in any way. I don’t know about you, but I find it hard to punish someone so severely for a lapse in judgment.” He poured out a glass, took a sip. “Does he have any past infractions?”
“No, Mr. Torres.”
“Good employee record?”
“Yes, Mr. Torres.”
The empty glass clunked on the desk as Mike put it down. “Then there’s no reason to get rid of him. Send this one back. Lorne Adelson keeps his job for now.”
“Yes, Mr. Torres.”
As he poured himself one more glass of scotch, he wondered if he had just made a mistake. Perhaps he had been too eager to finally let one get off; it had been wearying work, sending so many top-level employees to reassignment. Mike had suspected from the beginning that Silvan or Monika Leutz or someone was using this as a way to get rid of people they didn’t like; the cases were built so strongly there was no investigation or evaluation needed. All Mike and the others were doing was reading reports and sending them on. But this case was different: Mike had found a sound logical reason to let Adelson go free. Now he just had to wait and see if anyone objected.
He didn’t wait long.
“Mike,” Leutz called from across his office.
“ Shit ,” Mike hissed. She had startled him so badly that he’d spilled the last few sips of scotch all over his desk. He hurriedly grabbed a handful of tissues and sopped the liquor up before it ran into the edge of his desk screen. Why the hell didn’t Elle warn me?
“Please,” Leutz said as she took a seat across the desk, “don’t get up.”
“Sorry, you surprised me.”
“Well, Mike, I could say the same about you.” She eyed him sharply, her eyes focused on him rather than the display on her glasses for once. “Why didn’t you approve the Adelson case?”
There was no more doubt: