Sockpuppet: Book One in the Martingale Cycle by Matthew Blakstad Page A

Krish a view, then realised this must look shifty. Trying another tack, she crossed her arms unnaturally high across her chest and turned back to face Karen, who had produced a single sheet of A4 and was looking over it in distaste, glasses back on.
    ‘In the email you sent yesterday,’ said Karen, ‘to myself and the Cabinet Secretary –’
    Ah, that bloody email. Here it came.
    ‘– you said, quote, Mondan had informed me of a number of incidents where customer data was accessed in error by their data mining tools but I ’ m assured these incidents were quickly resolved and the data was certainly not used to send spam to our pilot group. ’
    ‘Yes. As I explained to Neil, we now know of some, well, minor data handling issues.’ Those were the words her civil servants had given her – with any luck Karen wouldn’t ask for details. ‘That’s serious of course but it’s got nothing to do with a hack. We don’t have any reason to think we lost data or caused people to get pigs in their computers. I don’t see—’
    ‘But the use of tenses here is interesting, isn’t it?’ Karen was still scrutinising the email. ‘You sent this in response to a question from the Cabinet Secretary. Neil had asked you to clarify your Answer. Yes?’
    Surely everyone could smell the sick by now? As Bethany got hotter, the patch gave off ever more pungent fumes. She refolded her arms higher. A bit Clare Short but better than the alternative.
    ‘Yes,’ she said.
    ‘And so in this mail, which you sent in relation to Monday ’ s Parliamentary Questions, you tell Neil that Mondan, quote, had let you know about a breach. Not, they have let me know.They had. Now – why would that be?’
    ‘Karen. Are you not letting your linguistics degree get the better of you? You seem to be reading a lot into what the meaning of the word, had ,is.’
    Was that even English? Krish shifted and coughed like a mild consumptive.
    ‘You are aware this email is discoverable?’ said Karen.
    ‘As one of the ministers responsible for Freedom of Information I understand how it works, yes.’
    Go on, you steely cow. Threaten me or shut up. Krish coughed again as Karen took off her glasses.
    ‘Beth, we’ve known each other how long?’
    Bethany could have said, eight years since you joined my constituency team – as a bloody researcher. But Karen didn’t wait for an answer.
    ‘I naturally want to look out for you here. But we need to be comfortable you haven’t made a bad decision. There are people in the Party who—’
    ‘– who want my job.’
    She meant Andrew bloody Carpenter. Snapping at her heels ever since she was appointed over him – claiming she’d only got the post to make up gender quotas, the little sneak.
    ‘– who question certain of your decisions. No I don’t just mean Andrew. Would you like me to write you a list? I’ve had Dan Fowler on the phone already this morning, for one.’
    ‘Sorry, hold on, Karen. Why would the Security Services Minister be concerned about my public utility programme?’
    Karen’s nostrils flared and she dropped her voice to a near-whisper.
    ‘ Nobody wants to see your errors scupper the whole Party. With an election looming none of us can afford to see a flagship policy derailed. This is a fragile time.’
    Because you’re losing your hold on backbench votes, thought Bethany, holding her smile in place.
    ‘Which,’ said Karen, ‘calls into question your choice of a relatively untested supplier like Mondan.’
    ‘As opposed to?’
    ‘As opposed to – a more established HM Government provider.’ Yes, this was Andrew talking, with his cozy consulting contracts and non-exec post with Terasoft. ‘Beth. You must recognise, at this point in the cycle, there are only two choices. You come up with something concrete, and fast, or – well, you’ll need to put careful thought into your options.’
    So there it was; and with it Bethany’s last ounce of patience dissolved. Perhaps it was