Free The Prefect by Alastair Reynolds

Ruskin-Sartorious was destroyed.’
    â€˜At least you remember something.’
    â€˜You’ll hear the same story from the others.’ Anthony Theobald peered intently at Dreyfus. ‘There are others, aren’t there?’
    â€˜I can’t say. I haven’t completed my interviews.’
    â€˜Do you intend to question Dravidian?’
    â€˜I’ll question anyone I think might have an angle on the attack.’
    â€˜You can’t let this atrocity go unpunished, Prefect. Something unspeakable happened to Ruskin-Sartorious. Someone must pay for that.’
    â€˜I’m pretty sure someone will,’ Dreyfus said.
    When he had returned the simulation to storage - very much against its wishes - Dreyfus took a minute to note his own thoughts into his compad. Perhaps his clarifying statement concerning his views on beta-levels hadn’t helped matters, but he’d sensed an undeniable hostility from the Ruskin-Sartorious patriarch. It would be a mistake to read too much into that, though. No one liked Panoply very much, and the resurrected dead were no exception.
    He invoked the second valid recoverable, opting to take a slightly less harsh tack.
    â€˜Hello, Vernon,’ Dreyfus said, addressing the younger-looking man who’d just appeared. He had a pleasant, trustworthy face and a headful of tight blond curls. ’Welcome to Panoply. I’m very sorry to have to tell you this, but in case my colleague didn’t make it clear, your primary is dead.’
    â€˜I gathered,’ Vernon Tregent said. ‘I still want to know about Delphine. Your colleague wouldn’t tell me anything. Did she make it out? Did you get anything from her beta?’
    â€˜We’ll get to that. I just need to clarify something first. I don’t mean this to sound hurtful, but there are people who believe in the sanctity of beta-levels, and people who don’t, and I’m afraid I’m one of the latter.’
    â€˜That’s fine,’ Vernon said, with an easy shrug. ‘I don’t believe in the sanctity of beta-levels either.’
    Dreyfus blinked a double-take. ‘How can you not believe? You are one.’
    â€˜But my responses are governed by Vernon’s beliefs, as demonstrated on countless occasions. Vernon didn’t think beta-levels were anything more than clever simulacra. He was very vocal in that opinion. Hence, I share that view.’
    â€˜Good ...’ Dreyfus said, less sure of himself. ‘That’ll make life a lot easier.’ Then some impulse caused him to volunteer more information than he’d normally have considered wise. ‘We’ve recovered Delphine. I still have to interview her, but my colleague thinks there’ll be enough there to serve as a useful witness.’
    Vernon closed his eyes. He raised his chin, as if giving thanks to the blank white infinity that served as a ceiling. ‘I’m glad. If anyone deserved to get out, it was Delphine. Now tell me what happened.’
    â€˜Does the name Dravidian mean anything to you?’
    â€˜If you mean the Ultra captain ... then yes, it means a lot. What happened?’
    â€˜You don’t remember?’
    â€˜I wouldn’t be asking if I did.’
    It was the same story as Anthony Theobald, Dreyfus thought. No memory of the final events because the recording systems hadn’t had time to update the beta-level models in the processor cores. ‘Your habitat was destroyed,’ he said. ’The captain - we’ll assume Dravidian gave the order - appears to have decided to slash it open with his engine.’
    â€˜Dravidian wouldn’t have ...’ But Vernon trailed off, as if the very repugnance of the crime was only now hitting home. ‘I can’t believe he’d have done something so vicious, so out-of-proportion. There’s no doubt that this happened?’
    â€˜I’ve crawled over the ruin myself. Forensic evidence is