Descending Road - JUST A POOR TROUBADOR by Dana W. Paxson

JUST A POOR TROUBADOR

1563 4D

“Ankherist ‘os tellich G.A. nai’ya.” The sentry woke Arlen from a doze in a soft couch. He groaned, and reached over to Indrio, lying watching him with damp eyes. Tariall‘s face looked down at them from the wall, the mouth compressed and twisted as if it kept a living soul from escaping.

“Go,” he said to her, tapping her nipple with a fingernail. She stood and walked out through the small door without a word. “The Genetics Agency again,” he said to the room, “Why won’t they just back off?” He rolled his eyes, irritated. His belly and spine glowed with the warmth he had taken from the woman.

“Trevish‘el nai’aerel—” the sentry began.

“No, I’ll talk with whatever they’ve sent this time,” Arlen said as he put on his coverall again. Another game with Tariall. This might be interesting. “Tell them to come in.”

The steel door opened. Two women, dressed in black close-form worksuits stepped into the room and looked around at the walls, the sentry, and Tariall‘s face, pointedly ignoring Arlen. Growing angry, he waited. One of them looked at him, staring from his feet to his face. “So you’re Arlen of ArCorp? I’m Riandar from Genetics Agen—“

“Your names don’t interest me,” Arlen broke in. “What do you want? There’s nothing you need with me that you can’t get from my legal people. Your warrant to intrude on me personally is unjustified.” The word ‘warrant’ opened a monitoring circuit for Arlen‘s legal staff. They would be listening and watching now.

"…Riandar from Genetics Agency, and this is Jagan from Procedurals. Nice walls.”

“Who are you?” Jagan asked Tariall.

“I’m just a poor troubador,” Tariall sang softly. He continued,

“I’m just a poor troubador,

Singing my heart to the world,

Seeing my love made a whore,

Feeling my spirit unfurled.

Give me a cup full of wine,

Give me the key to your door,

I’ll help your soul pass the time,

I’m just a poor troubador.”

Jagan turned to Arlen. “Andro, right?”

“You can see for yourself. No body.” Arlen smiled. He would have to express his appreciation to Tariall for the song. Maybe a kiss from Indrio.

“I can see that you didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m not here in my own premises to be questioned,” Arlen snapped, “Get yourselves the right kind of warrant for that.”

Riandar spoke. “We’re working on that, and we want you to know that some friends of yours will be interested in what we know about your new lanthanides acquisition. We do share information, you know.”

Arlen‘s belly stiffened slightly. He had been able to keep the Luce property shift quiet. Did Frei work for someone else? He would find out. He riposted with, “You haven’t shared any with me. It seems I hold the counters everyone wants. And you and the rest are welcome to try to get them.”

Jagan said, “You’re breaking Gene Law. We find your… creatures all over the City. Cats, rodents, reptiles, all with brains and weapons. Worse yet, your vats have brewed up a virus that’s caused an epidemic.” She walked over to the sentry. It hummed, and she drew back.

“I only build andros, and not the subhuman type,” Arlen said. “You’ll never prove otherwise. And I don’t misuse humans. Oh, and you’ll never trace that virus back to my farms. I don’t run that kind of operation.” This virus was going to be a problem. Better get the bio group off the andro line and into countermeasures research. The Genetics Agency managed the Cyber Investigations Bureau, responsible for enforcing Gene Law. The GA worked for the regional oversight group, under Gullinder. No way to get around them, not right now.

“We’ll see. In the meantime, I’m sure you would appreciate some… time before we let our information out. Durlow and Rhin would love to have it.” Jagan‘s mouth curled up at one corner.

“What do you want?”

“Tell us why you stripped that farmer and assayed his property. No admissions or anything, just, what were you looking for? And why? What have you found?”

“Why would you want to know that? That’s not genetics business.”

“You can stipulate to that?” Jagan looked eager.

“Give me a day,” Arlen said. “Now leave me alone.” The women looked at each other, turned, and walked out into the outside office area. Arlen motioned the door shut. Now he had detective work to do — on his own staff. Another game. He smiled.

Story List	SURPRISE ME	Author Page
USER SURVEY	PUZZLE ME	MAKE ELM MARK

HOVER Lucida Bright BARE	HOVER Lucida Bright FULL	HOVER Palatino Linotype BARE
HOVER Palatino Linotype FULL	HOVER Times New Roman BARE	HOVER Times New Roman FULL
PAD Arial BARE	PAD Arial FULL	PAD Lucida Bright BARE
PAD Lucida Bright FULL	PAD Times New Roman BARE	PAD Times New Roman FULL


	JUST A POOR TROUBADOR 1563 4D “Ankherist ‘os tellich G.A. nai’ya.” The sentry woke Arlen from a doze in a soft couch. He groaned, and reached over to Indrio, lying watching him with damp eyes. Tariall‘s face looked down at them from the wall, the mouth compressed and twisted as if it kept a living soul from escaping. “Go,” he said to her, tapping her nipple with a fingernail. She stood and walked out through the small door without a word. “The Genetics Agency again,” he said to the room, “Why won’t they just back off?” He rolled his eyes, irritated. His belly and spine glowed with the warmth he had taken from the woman. “Trevish‘el nai’aerel—” the sentry began. “No, I’ll talk with whatever they’ve sent this time,” Arlen said as he put on his coverall again. Another game with Tariall. This might be interesting. “Tell them to come in.” The steel door opened. Two women, dressed in black close-form worksuits stepped into the room and looked around at the walls, the sentry, and Tariall‘s face, pointedly ignoring Arlen. Growing angry, he waited. One of them looked at him, staring from his feet to his face. “So you’re Arlen of ArCorp? I’m Riandar from Genetics Agen—“ “Your names don’t interest me,” Arlen broke in. “What do you want? There’s nothing you need with me that you can’t get from my legal people. Your warrant to intrude on me personally is unjustified.” The word ‘warrant’ opened a monitoring circuit for Arlen‘s legal staff. They would be listening and watching now. "…Riandar from Genetics Agency, and this is Jagan from Procedurals. Nice walls.” “Who are you?” Jagan asked Tariall. “I’m just a poor troubador,” Tariall sang softly. He continued, “I’m just a poor troubador, Singing my heart to the world, Seeing my love made a whore, Feeling my spirit unfurled. Give me a cup full of wine, Give me the key to your door, I’ll help your soul pass the time, I’m just a poor troubador.” Jagan turned to Arlen. “Andro, right?” “You can see for yourself. No body.” Arlen smiled. He would have to express his appreciation to Tariall for the song. Maybe a kiss from Indrio. “I can see that you didn’t answer my question.” “I’m not here in my own premises to be questioned,” Arlen snapped, “Get yourselves the right kind of warrant for that.” Riandar spoke. “We’re working on that, and we want you to know that some friends of yours will be interested in what we know about your new lanthanides acquisition. We do share information, you know.” Arlen‘s belly stiffened slightly. He had been able to keep the Luce property shift quiet. Did Frei work for someone else? He would find out. He riposted with, “You haven’t shared any with me. It seems I hold the counters everyone wants. And you and the rest are welcome to try to get them.” Jagan said, “You’re breaking Gene Law. We find your… creatures all over the City. Cats, rodents, reptiles, all with brains and weapons. Worse yet, your vats have brewed up a virus that’s caused an epidemic.” She walked over to the sentry. It hummed, and she drew back. “I only build andros, and not the subhuman type,” Arlen said. “You’ll never prove otherwise. And I don’t misuse humans. Oh, and you’ll never trace that virus back to my farms. I don’t run that kind of operation.” This virus was going to be a problem. Better get the bio group off the andro line and into countermeasures research. The Genetics Agency managed the Cyber Investigations Bureau, responsible for enforcing Gene Law. The GA worked for the regional oversight group, under Gullinder. No way to get around them, not right now. “We’ll see. In the meantime, I’m sure you would appreciate some… time before we let our information out. Durlow and Rhin would love to have it.” Jagan‘s mouth curled up at one corner. “What do you want?” “Tell us why you stripped that farmer and assayed his property. No admissions or anything, just, what were you looking for? And why? What have you found?” “Why would you want to know that? That’s not genetics business.” “You can stipulate to that?” Jagan looked eager. “Give me a day,” Arlen said. “Now leave me alone.” The women looked at each other, turned, and walked out into the outside office area. Arlen motioned the door shut. Now he had detective work to do — on his own staff. Another game. He smiled.