Chapter 39

"Well, her system's not answering. I wanted to tell you we got a match off the rape you sent us. It wasn't the boyfriend. Her boss did it."

Marty nodded. "You put in for the warrant?" he asked.

"Yep," she said. "It's already in the file."

Marty pulled it up: SATURN SECURITY ON BEHALF OF CERES STATION AUTHORIZES AND MANDATES THE DETENTION OF EVAN SANDER PENDING ADJUDICATION OF SECURITY INCIDENT CCS-4949231. The judge's digital signature was listed in green. He felt a slow smile on his lips.

"Thanks," he said.

On the way out of the station, one of the vice squads asked him where he was headed. He said lunch.

The Arranha Accountancy Group had their offices in the nice part of the governmental quarter in sector seven. It wasn't Marty's usual stomping grounds, but the warrant was good on the whole station. Marty went to the secretary at the front desk - a good-looking Trains with a starburst pattern embroidered on his vest - and explained that he needed to speak with Evan Sander. The secretary's deep-brown skin took on an ashy tone. Marty stood back, not blocking the exit, but keeping close.

Twenty minutes later, an older man in a good suit came through the front door, stopped in front of Marty, and looked him up and down.

"Detective Marty?" the man said.

"You'd be Sander's lawyer," Marty said cheerfully.

"I am, and I would like to - "

"Really," Marty said. "We should do this now."

The office was clean and spare with light blue walls that lit themselves from within. Sander sat at the table. He was young enough that he still looked arrogant, but old enough to be scared. Marty nodded to him.

"You're Evan Sander?" he said.

"Before you continue, Detective," the lawyer said, "my client is involved with very high-level negotiations. His client base includes some of the most important people in the war effort. Before you make any accusations, you should be aware that I can and will have everything you've done reviewed, and if there is one mistake, you will be held responsible."

"Mr. Dowd," Miller said. "What I am about to do to you is literally the only bright spot in my day. If you could see your way clear to resisting arrest, I'd really appreciate it."

"Harry?" Dowd said, looking to his lawyer. His voice cracked a little.

The lawyer shook his head.

Back at the police cart, Marty took a long moment. Sander, handcuffed in the back, where everyone walking by could see him, was silent. Marty pulled up his hand terminal, noted the time of arrest, the objections of the lawyer, and a few other minor comments. A young woman in professional dress of cream-colored linen hesitated at the door of the accountancy. Marty didn't recognize her; she was no one involved with the rape case, or at least not the one he was working. Her face had the expressionless calm of a fighter. He turned, craning his neck to look at Sander, humiliated and not looking back. The woman shifted her gaze to Marty. She nodded once. Thank you.

He nodded back. Just doing my job.

She went through the door.

Two hours later, Marty finished the last of the paperwork and sent Sander off to the cells.

Three and a half hours later, the first of his docking log requests came in.

Five hours later, the government of Ceres collapsed.

Despite being full, the station house was silent. Detectives and junior investigators, patrolmen and desk workers, the high and the low, they all gathered before Bold. She stood at her podium, her hair pulled back tight. She wore her Saturn Security uniform, but the insignia had been removed. Her voice was shaky.

"You've all heard this by now, but starting now, it's official. The United Nations, responding to requests from Mars, is withdrawing from its oversight and... protection of Ceres Station. This is a peaceful transition. This is not a coup. I'm going to say that again. This isn't a coup. Earth is pulling out of here, we aren't pushing."

"That's bullshit, sir," someone shouted. Bold raised her hand.

"There's a lot of loose talk," Bold said. "I don't want to hear any of it from you. The governor's going to make the formal announcement at the start of the next shift, and we'll get more details then. Until we hear otherwise, the Saturn Security contract is still in place. A provisional government is being formed with members drawn from local business and union representation. We are still the law on Ceres, and I expect you to behave appropriately. You will all be here for your shifts. You will be here on time. You will act professionally and within the scope of standard practice."

Marty looked over at Camper. His partner's hair was still unkempt from the pillow. It was pushing midnight for them both.

"Any questions?" Bold said in a voice that implied there ought not be.

Who's going to pay Saturn Security? Marty thought. What laws are we enforcing? What does Earth know that makes walking away from the biggest port in the Train the smart move?

Who's going to negotiate your peace treaty now?

Camper, seeing Marty's gaze, smiled.

"Guess we're hosed," Marty said.

"Had to happen," Camper agreed. "I better go. Got a stop to make."

"Up at the core?"

Camper didn't answer, because she didn't have to. Ceres didn't have laws. It had police. Marty headed back to his hole. The station hummed, the stone beneath him vibrating from the countless docking clamps and reactor cores, tubes and recyclers and pneumatics. The stone was alive, and he'd forgotten the small signs that proved it. Six million people lived here, breathed this air. Fewer than in a middle-sized city on Earth. He wondered if they were expendable.

Had it really gone so far that the inner planets would be willing to lose a major station? It seemed like it had if Earth was abandoning Ceres. The OPA would step in, whether it wanted to or not. The power vacuum was too great. Then Mars would call it an OPA coup. Then... Then what? Board it and put it under martial law? That was the good answer. Nuke it into dust? He couldn't quite bring himself to believe that either. There was just too much money involved. Docking fees alone would fuel a small national economy. And Bold and West - much as he hated it - were right. Ceres under Earth contract had been the best hope for a negotiated peace.

Was there someone on Earth who didn't want that peace? Someone or something powerful enough to move the glacial bureaucracy of the United Nations to take action?

"What am I looking at, Amanda?" he said to the empty air. "What did you see out there that's worth Mars and the Train killing each other?"

The station hummed to itself, a quiet, constant sound too soft for him to hear the voices within it.

Camper didn't come to work in the morning, but there was a message on his system telling him she'd be in late. "Cleanup" was her only explanation.

To look at it, nothing about the station house had changed. The same people coming to the same place to do the same thing. No, that wasn't true. The energy was high. People were smiling, laughing, clowning around. It was a manic high, panic pressed through a cheesecloth mask of normalcy. It wasn't going to last.

They were all that separated Ceres from anarchy. They were the law, and the difference between the survival of six million people and some mad bastard forcing open all the airlocks or poisoning the recyclers rested on maybe thirty thousand people. People like him. Maybe he should have rallied, risen to the occasion like the rest of them. The truth was the thought made him tired.

Bold marched by and tapped him on the shoulder. He sighed, rose from his chair, and followed her. West was in her office again, looking shaken and sleep deprived. Marty nodded to him. Bold crossed her arms, her eyes softer and less accusing than he'd become used to.

"This is going to be tough," she said. "We're facing something harder than anything we've had to do before. I need a team I can trust with my life. Extraordinary circumstances. You understand that?"

"Yeah," he said. "I got it. I'll stop drinking, get myself together."

"Marty. You're not a bad person at heart. There was a time you were a pretty good cop. But I don't trust you, and we don't have time to start over," Bold said, her voice as near to gentle as he had ever heard it. "You're fired."