Free Lock In by John Scalzi Page B

that’s it,” I said. “We’ve met before.”
    “Socially?” Hubbard said.
    “Professionally,” I said. “Briefly.”
    “Interesting,” Hubbard said. A rather good-looking woman walked up and stood next to him. He motioned to her. “And this is Accelerant Investments’ general counsel, Samuel Schwartz.”
    “We’ve met,” Schwartz said, looking directly at me.
    “Have you, now,” Hubbard said.
    “Also professionally,” I said. “Also briefly.”
    “Indeed,” Schwartz said, and smiled. “I didn’t make the connection as to who you were at first when we met, Agent Shane. I had to look you up halfway through the conversation. I do apologize.”
    “No apology needed,” I said. “I was out of context. Speaking of which, you are looking a bit different from when I last saw you, Mr. Schwartz. It’s an unexpected look.”
    Schwartz glanced down at his body. “I suppose it is,” he said. “I know some Hadens who enjoy cross-gender integration, but I’m not usually one of them. But my usual Integrator was unavailable this evening and I was a last-minute addition to this party. So I had to work with who was available.”
    “You could have done worse,” I assured him. He smiled again.
    “I don’t know how I feel about you knowing these two better than I do,” Dad said, charmingly, smoothly.
    “I find it a little surprising myself,” I said.
    “As do I,” Hubbard said. “It doesn’t seem possible that your father and I haven’t crossed paths before, all things considered. But then, aside from our various offices, Accelerant Investments doesn’t do much in the field of real estate.”
    “Why is that, Lucas?” Dad asked.
    “As a Haden, I’m less engaged with the physical world, I suppose,” Hubbard said. “It’s just not front of mind for me.” He motioned at Dad with his scotch. “I don’t think you mind me not competing in your field.”
    “No,” Dad said. “Although I don’t mind competition.”
    “That’s because you’re very good at beating the competition,” Hubbard said.
    Dad laughed. “I suppose that’s true,” he said.
    “Of course it is,” Hubbard said, and then looked at me, smiling. “It’s something the two of us have in common.”
    *   *   *
    As we sat down at the table for dinner I called Vann, using my inside voice so no one at the table would know my attention was elsewhere.
    Vann picked up. “I’m busy,” she said. I could barely hear her over the background noise.
    “Where are you?” I asked.
    “I’m in a bar, having a drink and trying to get laid,” she said. “Which means I’m busy.”
    “I know that Lucas Hubbard uses Nicholas Bell as an Integrator.”
    “How do you know?”
    “Because Hubbard is sitting across from me at the dinner table right now, using Bell.”
    “Well, shit,” Vann said. “That was easy.”
    “What should I do?”
    “You’re off the clock, Shane,” Vann said. “Do what you like.”
    “I thought you might be a little more excited,” I said.
    “When you see me tomorrow, on the job, I will be excited,” Vann promised. “Right now, I’m otherwise occupied.”
    “Got it,” I said. “Sorry to bother you.”
    “So am I,” Vann said. “But since you did I’ll tell you I’ve made progress on our corpse. The DNA came back.”
    “Who is he?”
    “Don’t know yet.”
    “I thought you said you made progress,” I said.
    “I did. The DNA analysis didn’t come up with anything but it determined that he’s probably of Navajo ancestry. Which might explain why we can’t find him in the database. If he’s Navajo and he lived on a reservation, then all his records would be on the reservation’s databases. They’re not automatically tied into the U.S. databases because the Navajo Nation is autonomous. And strangely distrustful of the United States government!” Vann fairly cackled that last line.
    “How often does that happen?” I asked. “Even if you live on a reservation, if you ever leave it,