“You are dissatisfied with your job?”

“I serve the corporation, Kansayaku,” Sam stated strongly. “I do my best at whatever task is set before me.”

“Yes. So it seems, There have been no complaints about your performance.” Sato tapped the arm of his chair. Sam thought that he detected a slight hint of disappointment. “But you are dissatisfied.”

“I am distressed at being kept in the dark about the fate of my sister.”

“I am informed that she has been relocated safely. Renraku always fulfills its obligations in that regard. You were advised of this through official channels.”

Sam recalled the two-line entry in his electronic mail. “I believe that the corporation has done what it considers its duty. But I don’t understand. Why can’t I contact her?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I have repeatedly requested communications links with my sister. They have been denied. I have not even been given the postal code of the relocation center.”

“That seems unusual.”

“I thought so too, but I have been reluctant to bring my concerns to the Contract Court arbitration board.”

“My comp,” Sato ordered peremptorily. Crenshaw brought it, setting it on the table and unrolling the screen before turning it on and sliding it before Sato. He spent a minute tapping on the keyboard.

“There is no record of these requests in the files.”

“How can that be possible?” Sam asked incredulously.

“Indeed,” Sato agreed smoothly. “How?”

Sam scented danger. Sato had just told him that there was no official record of Sam’s attempts to contact Janice. Any complaint about the corporation’s inhumane response would not be supported by the Renraku Corporation’s correspondence database. He was being coerced into letting the whole issue drop. Never. He would never give up his sister. She was all the family he had left.

Sato confirmed Sam’s suspicions by saying, “Now you have come to me and, in a private conference, asked after your sister. I have told you that she was well cared for by the Renraku staff during her traumatic experience. She received all the consideration to which she was entitled under the law. You will receive regular reports and may undertake to send correspondence through the personnel office. There is no further need to trouble your superiors over this issue.”

“I understand,” Sam lied.

He really didn’t understand at all, but one thing was becoming clear. For whatever reason, he was deliberately being cut off from his sister, and somehow Sato was involved.

“I am glad that we understand each other, Verner-san.” Sato stood, his sudden motion leaving Sam to scramble upright. “You may return to your duties.”

Sam bowed to Sato’s back. “I apologize for having taken so much of your valuable time, Kansayaku.”

Having been dismissed, Sam had no choice but to leave. As he walked past the last painting in the entryway, he risked an impolite look over his shoulder. Sato had returned to his desk, absorbed already in something on the console screen. Crenshaw was standing by the edge of the dais, watching Sam with a grin of satisfaction plastered to her face. She seemed pleased. What had he done to earn her enmity?

His guard was waiting to escort him to the elevators. During the ride down to the lower levels. Sam reviewed the meeting. He felt sure there were levels of meaning that he had missed. Try as he might he couldn’t figure out the whys of the situation.

Hanae was waiting for him in the Level 200 lobby. She stood quietly beyond the barrier while a samurai from the guard station adjusted the screamer attached to Sam’s wrist. It would alert security if he strayed from those portions of the arcology that had been deemed suitable for one of his position and security rating. He was forbidden from entering the upper reaches until summoned again. As soon as he passed through the detector arch, Hanae, her face full of expectation, rushed up to him.

“How did it go?”

He did not want to disappoint her, but he had nothing to fulfill her hopes. “I am told that there will be periodic reports on Janice’s welfare. I may write letters to her as well, but I am not to complain any further. At least, I wasn’t forbidden to pray for her.”

She searched his face. “You don’t really believe that the company will follow through, do you?”

Sam said nothing. If Hanae had read enough in his face and stance to ask the question, she already knew the answer. She reached out to touch his cheek, then she threw her arms around him in a fierce hug. Her warmth felt good.

“I think you should talk to someone,” she suggested tentatively.

“I don’t need a shrink.”

She laughed nervously. “No, that’s not what I meant. I think you should talk to someone I met down in the public mail.”

“Hanae, I’m really not in the mood for small talk with a stranger.” He had never found her friends of more than passing interest, and he just wanted to be alone.

“You don’t have to do it now. Besides, I’d have to arrange a time, anyway.”

While the knowledge that an immediate meeting wasn’t in the offing was a relief, her comment raised his suspicions. “Who is this person?”

Hanae nervously glanced around. “I’d rather not say her name here. She’s a… talent scout.”

“I’m not going on trid.”

“No. Not that kind. She’s corporate.”

This was an interesting development. Talent scouts looked for dissatisfied employees who might be willing to switch corporations. Hanae was concerned enough to talk to a headhunter. Such an involvement was totally out of character for her; she was a loyal company person. He realized that he, too, was acting out of character. Here he was actually considering the possibility.