The Human Division #12: The Gentle Art of Cracking Heads by John Scalzi Read Free Book Online Page A

Relations?”
    Vinicius smiled back and supplied a little hand movement, as if to suggest the answer was, A little of both .
    â€œSo you’re saying that I am not a credible eyewitness,” Lowen said.
    Vinicius’s smile vanished.“Excuse me?” he said.
    “You’re saying I am not a credible eyewitness,” Lowen repeated. “Because I was part of that diplomatic mission, Mr. Vinicius. In fact, not only was I there, I also conducted the autopsy that established that Liu Cong’s death was murder, and also helped identify how it was the murder was accomplished. When you say that the eyewitness reports are not credible, you’re talkingabout me, specifically and directly. If what you’re saying actually reflects the opinion of the Ministry of External Relations, then we have a problem. A very large problem.”
    â€œMs. Lowen, I—,” Vinicius began.
    “Mr. Vinicius, it’s clear we got off on the wrong foot here, because I was assured there would be actual information for me, and because you are clearly an unprepared idiot,” Lowen said,standing. Vinicius rushed to stand as well. “So I suggest we start again. Here’s how we’re going to do that. I am going to go downstairs and across the street to get a cup of coffee and perhaps a bagel. I will take my time enjoying them. Let’s say a half hour. When I return, in half an hour, Consul General Nascimento will be here to give me a full and confidential briefing on everything the Braziliangovernment knows about Luiza Carvalho, which I will then report back to the secretary of state, who, just in case you didn’t know, as it’s clear you don’t know much of anything, is also my father, which if nothing else assures that he will take my call. If, when I return, Consul Nascimento is here and you are nowhere nearby, I might not suggest that you be fired by the end of the day. If, whenI return, she is not here, and I have to see your smug face again, then I would suggest you take a long lunch break to book your trip back to Brasília, because you’re going to be there by this time tomorrow. Are we clear on these details?”
    â€œUh,” Vinicius said.
    “Good,” Lowen said. “Then I expect to see Consul Nascimento in half an hour.” She walked out of Vinicius’s office and was at the consulate’selevator before Vinicius could blink.
    Across the street at the doughnut shop, Lowen pulled out her PDA and called her father’s office, getting James Prescott, his chief of staff. “How did it go?” Prescott asked, without preamble, as he opened up the connection.
    â€œPretty much exactly as we anticipated,” Lowen said. “Nascimento wasn’t there and pawned me off on an egregiously stupid underling.”
    “Let me guess,” Prescott said. “A guy named Vinicius.”
    â€œBing,” Lowen said.
    â€œHe’s got a reputation for stupidity,” Prescott said. “His mother is the minister of education.”
    â€œI knew it,” Lowen said. “Mommy’s boy made a particularly dumb remark, and that allowed me to tell him to produce Nascimento or I would start a major diplomatic incident.”
    “Ah, the gentle art of cracking heads,” Prescottsaid.
    â€œSubtle wasn’t going to work on this guy,” Lowen said, and then the windows of the doughnut shop shattered from the pressure wave created by the exploding building across the street.
    Lowen and everyone else in the shop ducked and yelled, and then there was the sound of glass and falling debris outside, all over Sixth Avenue. She opened her eyes cautiously and saw that the glass of thedoughnut shop windows, while shattered, had stayed in their frames, and that everyone in the doughnut shop, at least, was alive and unharmed.
    Prescott was yelling out of the speaker of her PDA; she put the thing back to her ear. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” she said. “Everything’s fine.”
    â€œWhat just happened?”