The Luna Deception Read Online Free PDF Page B

pinging him.
    Derek Lorna.
    Surprise, surprise.
    Lorna’s voice bubbled with glee. “Did you get the poll? I made sure you were in the randomly selected list of participants. Looks great, doesn’t it?”
    “Yeah,” Mendoza said.
    “And did you see that approval rate? You’re a pro, fellow. Now listen …”
    “I’m on the train,” Mendoza blurted, before he switched to subvocalizing. His BCI’s voice always sounded lifeless and unenthusiastic. He didn’t want Lorna to think he was resentful. ~I’m glad the results matched my projection, he subvocalized.
    “Yeah. But listen, this question was pretty broad. We really need to follow up with something more specific, to rule out support for the more radical interpretations of planetary resource exploitation. Can you do coffee? Doesn’t have to be now … but I see you’re on the Victoria line. Get off in Verneland and I’ll meet you on the roof of Harrods.”
    Lorna ended the call. Mendoza clenched his fists. I see you’re on the Victoria line … There had been no need for that. But yes, there had been a need for it. To remind Mendoza that everywhere he went, everything he did, he was watched. And someone with Lorna’s kind of standing could access the real-time surveillance logs.
    He got off the train in Verneland and went up to the roof of Harrods.
    A landmark on the Lunar tourist trail, Harrods was a department store owned by the ex-royal family of Qatar, who were prominent citizens of Shackleton City. The roof garden featured a café and a resident pack of corgis that waddled around begging for tidbits. Mendoza ran two fingers around the inside of his collar, feeling out of place among tourists in tailcoats, frills, and flower-heaped hats. The tourists seemed to enjoy dressing up in Victorian fashions. They didn’t have to do it every day.
    Derek Lorna came towards him. He fit right in, clad in a ruffled lavender shirt and linen trousers with a thin ivory stripe. Physically, he looked the same as his avatar. Receding hairline, blue eyes, designer stubble. In real life, however, the eyes had a striking intensity. Lorna was clearly one of those people with enough energy for ten ordinary mortals.
    “You made it! Listen, we can have coffee here, or I can give you a ride to the edge of the dome. You can catch the train there, and we’ll talk on the way.”
    As before, Mendoza saw which option he was meant to choose. “A ride would be great.”
    Lorna was already urging him towards the airship anchorage.
    In comparison to the Hindenburg-esque sightseeing craft moored around it, Lorna’s private airship flaunted sleek lines. Its open-topped gondola had teak rails, leather-look ergoforms, and a mother-of-pearl table in the middle. It flew so smoothly that Mendoza did not realize they’d left their mooring until he felt a breeze in his hair.
    Harrods shrank away below. The rooftops of Verneland spread out, festooned with decorative chimneys and gutters.
    “Tough day at work?” Lorna said. “Laugh! I’m impressed that you got that poll done so fast. Let’s discuss how we can keep the momentum going.”
    All these years on Luna, and this was the first time Mendoza had ever been up in an airship. The noises of the city reached them only as a murmur. He cleared his throat. “I just wondered, is anyone actually calling for the Phase 5 ramp to be cancelled?”
    “Only the usual suspects,” Luna said dismissively.
    As the airship gained height, the rooftops resolved into a 2D panorama. The streetlights had started to come on, although the sky was still blue.
    “Remember, this wasn’t supposed to happen for another few decades,” Lorna said. “So a lot of ongoing debates have suddenly become acute. And the competition for poor old Charlie’s job looks like turning into a referendum on those issues. See what I’m getting at?”
    “Yes.”
    “Really?” Lorna gazed at him for a moment. Then he seemed to change his mind about what he’d been going to say.