Pegasus In Space

Boris crossed his right leg over his left knee, outwardly totally at ease. "Would the name Shimaz mean anything to you?"

"No."

That was true enough. "Listening" for truth or falsehood was not illegal so long as listening went no further than public thoughts.

"From what source did you obtain organ transplants for your son?" Boris snapped the query off.

Fraga went into shock, color draining from his face and his mind hardening. It would now be more difficult for Boris to tell truth from fiction but there were other betraying signs of guilt or anxiety.

"Oooh!" Fraga seemed to fold in on himself. "I had to. I had to. I've repaid every single credit. Mai took it out of my salary. She said she had a discretionary fund. She was willing to loan me credit from it. I have repaid it."

"Mai Leitao was involved?" The Secretary was astonished and glanced covertly at Boris.

"I certainly didn't have that amount of credit at my disposal. I was desperate. I asked her would the SA see their way clear to give me an advance. I had to tell her why. There wasn't much time, you see, if Josef was to live. The credit had to be sent to the special account number I was given."

That also was the truth. Fraga was willing for that to be seen in his eyes, his manner, his agitated hand gestures.

"Do you remember where the credit was sent?" Boris asked.

"A bank in Sandakan." Fraga swallowed and clasped his hands. Possibly, Boris thought, to control their shaking.

"An organ farm was situated in the nearby mountains," Boris said in a neutral voice.

Fraga visibly shuddered and closed his eyes. "I didn't know." He opened his eyes. "I didn't care." He made an effort to master himself. "My son was dying."

Boris waited a moment before he asked the next question. He disliked harassing people who had acted for the best of personal reasons but Law Enforcement was as necessary to this complex world as what Order could be achieved. Organ-replacement from unauthorized sources was illegal. Almost as dangerous to the recipients who might pay exorbitant prices; possibly paying again when the organs failed or bequeathed other diseases to the recipients. In some respects, Shimaz's operation had been well organized: the transplants did match the recipient's blood type and tissue sample and in most cases the organs were healthy, the transplants successful.

"Did you make contact with a person on Padrugoi during your visit there on the fifth of March?" Boris fired the important query before Fraga could recover.

Fraga dropped his head into his hands.

"Did you bring him a message or some item?"

Fraga was close to collapse. Boris waited. Abubakar's face was a study of sympathy and consternation, his eyes sad. Fraga's reply was jerky; it was obviously an effort to speak.

"I brought a message. I was made to or the illegal organ purchase would become public knowledge. And Mai would be implicated since the credit note could be traced back to her office."

"Tell me how, and when, you were asked to be a messenger. In person?"

"No, a comm message. Out of the blue. Eight years after the operation."

"Precisely when?" Boris asked ruthlessly.

Georg Fraga raised his tormented eyes. "The day before the meeting up at Padrugoi." He made a mirthless sound. "I kept a voiceprint. In case there was another attempt at blackmail. I'd've gone to you then."

That, Boris was pleased to "hear," was the truth. He suppressed the flare of pleasure that Fraga had had the forethought to take a print. It would be a valuable piece of evidence. Since Fraga had been honest, Boris would see what he could do to mitigate the charges against the man. Honesty was the best policy.

"It's regrettable that you didn't come to us in the first instance," he said sternly.

"And be charged with an illegal organ transplant?" Fraga asked ironically.

"Did you tell Mai Leitao?" Abubakar asked gently.

"I had to find out if she'd been contacted, too. I had to warn her." The Secretary nodded. Now he turned to the LEO Commissioner.

"May I inquire what happened because Georg delivered that message?" he asked in a bleak tone.

"Fortunately the consequences were not as serious as they might have been," Boris replied. He turned to the dispirited Fraga. "The voiceprint will be a crucial piece of evidence, Mr. Fraga."

"I'll get it for you."

"I'll come with you, Mr. Fraga, as I have taken entirely too much of the Secretary's time."

Fraga rose stiffly.

"Come back here directly, Georg," Abubakar said in a colorless voice.

Fraga gave a slight bow and then led the way out of the office.

The next two weeks did not give Peter a single opportunity to put in for time on Padrugoi's link with the far-side telescopes. But he did make time for one thing: a call to Professor Gadriel to make his own personal apologies. Checking the time in Geneva, Peter placed a person-to-person call on a secured line to Professor Tomas Gadriel at CERN. High time, too. Apologies should be made sooner rather than later. He knew that Rhyssa, as head of the Eastern Parapsychic Center, had been in touch with Gadriel, but Peter had been responsible for the ruination of those new circuits, not Rhyssa. It should be just after the lunch break at the research facility.