CHAPTER 8More came in the following afternoon, flying up from the Cape—the noses, ears, and eyes of an inquisitive society. An earlier age could have controlled these pests, but the Debacle had put an end to government secrecy and the rule of bureaucrats as the hydee had liberated captive, taxpaying populations. Like vultures, the news hounds dove in for the kill.
“What are you doing here, Captain Varl?” Jane Gosser—aged, sharp, and acid—fired the question. “I mean really doing.”
“An investigation—”
“Spare us the crap.” Stefan Wilson, as old as the woman but even more cynical, signalled to his cameraman to get close-ups. “There are no mineral deposits here, and even if there were, you’ve the wrong equipment to go after them. Give yourself a break, Captain. Tell us the truth.”
An agent
