Interrogation”.
She looked up again.
“No?” Form 26a was put to one side. “It remains your right, of course, to register a complaint at any time during this meeting if you believe that someone has overstepped the mark. Do you understand that?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Then perhaps we should get down to business. I am Guardian Grade III Sousanna, from Crime and Security. I will be leading this investigation.”
Guardians were always referred to by their first name, as if that in some inexplicable way made them nicer.
She nodded in the direction of her effeminate male colleague.
“This is Guardian Grade III Adriyan, from the administration.”
Adriyan leaned forward towards Burk, with an insinuating smile.
“I believe that we’ve already met?”
“I don’t think so.”
“At the Commander’s dinner, the night after we launched from Terra? Before we went into the pods for high slide out of the solar system? We were at the same table. Surely you remember?”
Burk did remember him after all, though they had barely spoken to each other. Guardian Adriyan had spent most of that evening chatting up a handsome crewman, whom he obviously found more interesting. That had been fine with Burk: he had sat nursing his drink, desperately unhappy, trying not to think of Milliya and almost looking forward to a couple of light-years of unconsciousness in the pod.
“Yes, I do remember now.”
“Colleague Adriyan is in the Social and Recreational Department. Which is why he is taking part in our enquiry, you understand.”
Logical enough, since that was the section that Burk worked in on the Starstretcher (although he’d had no further contact with winsome Colleague Adriyan); otherwise, unfortunately, Burk didn’t understand at all. However, what he had noticed was Guardian Sousanna’s apparent unwillingness to use the ominous word “interrogation”. Which could only be a good sign, he thought.
“And this is Guardian Grade III (Senior Level) Rebek’a. From Ideology.”
She gestured politely towards her huge colleague, who acknowledged the gesture by turning her basilisk gaze on Burk.
“It is slightly unusual to have someone of her rank participating in an initial procedure of this kind, but it was felt that the investigation would benefit from her experience and expertise.”
Oh yes, Burk thought, looking at the huge forearms and muscular neck. I wonder what her special area of expertise just happens to be? At which point she smiled, a smile which made Guardian Sousanna or even Slabface look like an angel of mercy, and said quietly:
“Now we want to know who you are, little man.”
She had a deep voice, and spoke in the measured tone of someone who was used to being obeyed.
Before Burk could answer that, Guardian Sousanna rustled the papers in front of her, cleared her throat, and began to speak.
“Burk, John. No further names. Thirty years old. Birthplace, parents, nothing of particular interest there.”
Guardian Adriyan interrupted her.
“‘John’ is spelled in the old-fashioned way. That’s interesting, I would say. Indicative perhaps of an unconventional, rebellious family background?”
Guardian Rebek’a: “Or that he had stupid parents?”
“Well, yes, Colleague, it would be stupid behavior in the sense that it would draw attention to the boy in later life, and for no good reason.”
“He could have changed his name, though. But he didn’t. Perhaps our friend wanted to be seen as a non-conformist. A sentimental traditionalist. Out of step with the established order of things in our modern universe. A trouble-maker.”
“Colleagues, colleagues….” Guardian Sousanna was now visibly exasperated. “This sort of speculation isn’t very helpful. I’d like to continue if I may?”
Her colleagues both nodded.
“Very well. School. Regarded as intelligent but unconventional. Media Studies at college. Minor in Literature. Pretty straightforward stuff.”
Now all three of the Guardians snorted. And they were right, of course. Burk’s college had been famous, but only for its fantastic social scene, and Media Studies was a notoriously cushy option. Career Guardians, on the other hand, tended to study useful subjects like Advanced Cybernetics, Inormation Technology or Administration. Or Ideological Theory. Or Politics and Law.
“Good but not exactly spectacular grades. No application was submitted for Guardian training, despite recommendations made by the school and by the university. Interesting, that…. Various jobs, journalism, public relations, including the present posting to the Starstretcher. A few run-ins with the Government censor. No excessively long periods of unemployment, given his rather unpromising qualification profile.”
She paused.
“Quite good references. For the most part.”
She wasn’t reading, but extrapolating the relevant information from the documents. What could they be looking for? What would be “of particular interest” to them?
At this point Guardian Adriyan chimed in with: “Are you related to Ciaran Burke?”
Pause.
Burk feigned ignorance, pretending to be racking his brains.
“You mean: Kieran Bourke the football player?” (Though it was Kieran Brake, as he well knew.)
“No, I don’t mean Kieran Bourke the football player. I mean Ciaran Burke the terrorist.”
Guardian Adriyan was clearly a history buff. Ciaran Burke (“the terrorist”) had organized what little resistance there was to the mass triaging in Africa during the last great Water Crisis. Burk—no relation—hardly thought of him as a terrorist. Dr. Ciaran was an obsessional, unstable idealist, a man of noble intentions and zero effectiveness who had come to a predictably sticky end. Not a person that Burk would normally want to find himself associated with.
“No. And it’s Burk without an ‘e’.”
In his recreation hours, Burk had researched high and low in the genealogical archives, hoping to find a “Burke” in the family, more aristocratic, more intellectual-sounding, more Irish than just plain “Burk”, but he could only come up with Buerks, Börks and similar plebian variants.
“Burk is classified as AdPop, Lower Executive Level. Various minor entitlements, but no particular priority rating that we need to take into account. Private life: no partner or known long-term relationship. At least, not according to his file. Off the record, however—we know that he puts himself about in a rather tasteless and inappropriate manner.”
“Really?”
Guardian
