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The pianist's hands flew gracefully over the ebony piano. The skill and precision that his hands showed were exemplary, especially considering that his reactions were completely unmodified.
Dietrich liked this restaurant, sited on the one-hundredth and sixth floor of the Dalyn-Steward building. Not the biggest restaurant in the tower, but probably the most select in its clientele. Reserving a table was difficult enough, especially at the short notice that Bradley gave him.
"Hey! Peter!"
Dietrich turned to face the man who shouted in his direction. He knew who it would be before he saw him. Bradley Williams, the Internal Operations Executive for the corporation. The guy was large, his bald head showing off the tan he had got from his two weeks at the Dalyn-Steward corporation's private island in the Pacific. He wore a midnight blue suit bought from the exclusive Jevanis boutique in New York. The classic aquamarine tie with yellow striping, pretty standard attire for an executive of Bradley's level. His shoes were genuine leather with blue trimming. Dietrich was unimpressed. The whole outfit must have only cost him around 3000 dollars. His eyes were drawn to Bradley's tiepin. Pure adamantium, encrusted with diamonds, with a blue-grey silver finish. Expensive stuff. He was almost impressed; it was a pity it looked so out of place on his bargain basement suit.
Bradley, however, looked pleased to see him. Fashion criticism aside, he was the closest thing Dietrich had to a friend. Since they worked in different postings, Dietrich's lust for promotion would not get in the way. Well, not until they were both jockeying for the position of Senior Operations Executive. Until then, Bradley was a useful companion.
"I have already ordered for you, Brad. Some of that Italian mush you seem so mysteriously fond of."
"Heh. You never did like that stuff, did you? What did you order?"
"Indian."
"Of course. You like the feeling of those spices burning away your taste buds. Or is it because it is allegedly Dalyn-Steward's favourite dish?"
Dietrich raised an eyebrow at this, but said nothing.
"But enough about food. That is not the reason I invited you out for dinner on such short notice. It is about the incident yesterday."
The waiter, clad in an expensive tuxedo with a stylised Dalyn-Steward logo on the breast pocket, interrupted their conversation. Bradley reached into his pocket to extract a crisp one hundred-dollar bill to give to the waiter. Dietrich waited until the waiter had accepted this and then gave him a two hundred-dollar bill of his own. The waiter smiled in a glazed over fashion and left, moving towards the kitchens. Of course, it was standard procedure to give all waiters memory caps - mnemonic implants that prevented them from remembering any specifics about their day at work. The pay was good, and it stopped them remembering anything they would rather not know.
"I assume you are referring to the break-in and subsequent break-out of a very well trained member of the Babylon Institute?"
"I see. So you are aware who was responsible for it. You are one clever guy, Peter." Bradley laughed. "You might end up putting me out of a job if you are not careful."
Dietrich grinned.
"Perhaps."
"Are you also aware that the bug they planted managed to evade one sensor sweep before Intsec detected it? One sweep, Peter. It was left undetected for twenty-four minutes. That means that your entire briefing to the Board was listened in on by the Institute."
Dietrich's smile of self-satisfaction faded slightly at this.
"So? You don't think I know all this? The briefing was nothing too in depth, just the standard two-year plan. Nothing particularly detailed so even the Board could understand it."
Bradley's face took on a more serious air.
"I would watch what you say about the Board. I am in charge of personnel loyalty, you know."
"Really? Are you saying these conversations of ours would be used against me for your own ends?"
"You would do the same, Peter. Your ambitions for promotion are not exactly secret amongst the Internal Security Division."
"This dinner is a waste of time. I cannot talk to you for fear of Intsec snooping in on me."
Dietrich got up, leaving his meal untouched. Bradley shook his head.
"You just don't get it. Intsec's interests lie only in the prosperity of the corporation. As long as your aims and theirs don't overlap, you have nothing to worry about."
Dietrich was halfway across the room by the time Bradley left the table. While pretending to be checking out his suit in the mirror by the entrance, he checked the recording device was still secure in his tiepin and sent the data in a burst transmission to the Intsec Head Offices, a hundred and fifty-six floors down. Dietrich was very ambitious and the corporation would prosper under his ideas. However, there would be the time when his ambition would get the better of him. Intsec have ways to deal with difficult assets.
Andrew Jones, 31/10/00
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