Gilder believed that some higher force or powers guided the universe’s fortunes, and that he and a certain select few enjoyed a privileged rapport with them. That, of course, accounted for his methods and successes without implying any recourse to the baser instincts that his critics were wont to invoke. It was simply that Gilder was in tune with the way of things. He didn’t pretend to understand whatever laws drove the tides of human events in the complex patterns they moved in, but like any skillful navigator who knows the elements, he rode with them, claiming superior guidance and approbation for just about anything that suited his inclinations.
As an apology for grabbing what was going and sending others to the wall, it was a better construct than materialism and Darwin. Instead of pleading the absence of any law, Gilder embodied an even Higher Law. And of course he justified it with a quote: “It’s the duty of any free person to live for their own sake, not for others. Exploitation isn’t a mark of a depraved or primitive society. It’s a consequence of following the natural compulsion to greatness and growth.” This time Kieran recognized it as a steal from Nietzsche. Out of curiosity, he looked up references to the Gilderism that he’d been suspicious of earlier about freedom and justice never having been the money community’s job. Sure enough, it was from Albert Camus.
He was still ruminating on how to put this newfound knowledge to use, when a call came through on his comset. He channeled it to the main screen he was using, expecting it to be June calling back. But the caller turned out to be somebody who preferred keeping to audio only. “Is this Kieran Thane?” a voice asked. It sounded like a young man’s. “The guy they call the Knight?”
“This is he.”
“You have a dog, right? And you’re driving a rented Kodiak?”
Kieran’s brow creased. “Who are you, and what is this?”
“A friend. I just wanted to warn you that the guys who are looking for you know where you are. I told them . . . but I didn’t know who you were then. I guess what I’m trying to say is I’m sorry. I’m trying to put things right.”
Kieran’s mind worked furiously. He had already said to June that Guinness must have been a giveaway. But even if someone had noticed the car and traced it to Alazahad Machine—which would explain Mahom’s call before the expedition left Stony Flats—how would this person have gotten Kieran’s net code? Only by rummaging through Mahom’s directory or records. Kieran decided to gamble. “Come on,” he challenged. “You work for Alazahad Machine, correct? So I can place you with one call to Mahom. You might as well show yourself and let us talk in a civilized fashion without the melodramatics.”
A few seconds went by. Then the screen came on to show a character maybe in his early twenties, with a lean, swarthy face and wispy black hair, wearing a yellow bandana. He looked sheepish, apprehensive, yet at the same time visibly amazed. “How did you know?”
“I think I’m the one with the prerogative to be doing the asking,” Kieran said pleasantly. “But first, how about a name, since you already know mine? Then let’s have it from the beginning. Some people showed up at Alazahad’s, asking about a man with a dog. . . .”
And so the story came out. Kieran had no doubt that Heaven was sending him an opportunity—in his own way, he sometimes believed in guiding higher powers too. His mind went back to the glimmerings of an idea that had begun to form about how Gilder, despite all his convictions—or maybe because of them—might prove the weak spot. “Okay, Solomon,” he said when Leppo had finished, “I always admire a straight confession. But absolution will cost you more than three Hail Marys.”
“What?” Leppo asked guardedly.
“You know those Aerobot 6-Cs? Mahom has a couple of them in that arsenal of his out back.”
“Sure.” Aerobots were a type of small flying drone, used for miscellaneous errands and deliveries all over Mars.
“I’ve got a small list of items from the store that I could use out here. Square things with Mahom, and then I’d like you to send them out right away. I’ll get back to you shortly with an approach path and landing code. Would you do that?” Kieran’s expression and tone conveyed that if Leppo did the sensible thing, he could find he had a strong and valuable friend for life—just as Mahom had. But he really didn’t want this person as a foe.