Prologue
When people of the ancient world Earth dreamed of the future, they imagined humans sprawled across the galaxies, ruling the world, making the right and just decisions.
They imagined power beyond their comprehension and technology that looked like magic. Time machines. Vortex manipulators, and transporter beams.
They imagined a civilization where humans could be the best version of themselves.
They imagined.
But the reality was far from it.
More than 170 years went by since the old tv shows that would depict such fantasies crossed to the archives of the space base, Meredith Reynolds.
It’s true. Humans did travel across and beyond their galaxy, by virtue of the Yollin Annex Gate. But not to reign as all powerful demi-gods, rather to become the underdog.
The justice seekers. The truth tellers, the stuff of legends, the warriors.
Coming from such injustices, and such corruption, the new humans knew they had to do better.
It’s no surprise that the greatest export from the human race was justice.
But what surprised everyone, even the humans themselves, that their second greatest export would be…. Love.
Those on the Meredith Reynolds fought for their Queen, and in time, as the battles and the fighting were reduced, and new generations were born to those in space, humans left the Meredith Reynolds and settled on planets both within and outside of the Etheric Empire.
Because that is the spirit of those who left Earth in the beginning.
One generation left early, seeking new places that felt like their home and a handful of families continued until they found their place to stay. Their next generation also stayed on their new home world of Estaria. A large planet, dusty and dry with few humans where their sun, the Sark, would light their days as they travelled around it.
The Milky Way they left behind became known as the Pan Galaxy – because that was what it resembled from the far edges of the aging Sagittarius Dwarf Galaxy. What the humans of Earth called Sagittarius had no meaning without that constellation. To those who had lived on the other side of the Annex all their lives, their home was known as the Loop Galaxy on account of the way it circled the Pan.
Finally, with the advent of the third generation, news came down that the Etheric Empire was done with their wars on the Kurtherians and were seeking to become the Etheric Federation.
This third generation of humans who settled on Estaria had a little girl.
Her name is Molly.
Broken in spirit, she didn’t understand that the future is determined not on your mistakes, but on the depth of your spirit to make things happen and the power of those who believed in you.
This set of stories explain how Molly and those who came to love the broken young woman would challenge the might of the political and powerful and find out the truth…
Of the Ascension Myth.
Chapter 1
The morning sun streamed through her window. Flight Sergeant Molly Bates rolled over, pulled the covers over her head and mumbled something about “just ten more minutes” to the silent quarters.
Two minutes later, a shuffling under the covers turned into a battle to get free of her cocoon.
Shit!
Shit...shit...shit...shit...FUCKING SHIT. Morning fucking briefing!
She scrambled for her clothes. “Score!” she muttered finding a fresh stick of gum on the dresser as she grabbed her belt from a nearby chair. Now she could semi-confidently forgo brushing her teeth. Time-saver.
She wiped the grit out of her eyes, then scurried out into the corridor and closed the door behind her.
Taking a quick peek at the time, she was half aware that the capacity on the hacked and upgraded holo device wired into her central nervous system was registering 98%.
That’s…odd, she thought briefly.
She strode down the corridor to her unit’s conference room. She was still too junior in the military to be delivering intel and directing research efforts, so if she played it smart she could sneak into the back without too much drama.
She worked on tucking her shirt in as she marched through the hallway, her belt swinging back and forth under her neck until she was ready for it.
She never noticed the ensign who rolled his eyes at her efforts to get dressed while not quite running through the hallways.
Since Molly was technically a genius, the people around her expected something to be off about her.
“Morning, Flight Sergeant!” Gary called out to her from down the corridor as she came into view. Gary manned the securifield gate that scanned all personnel going in and out of the labs.
“Morning, Gary,” she smiled, fastening her belt around her waist. She rubbed her face with her hands as she approached, aware she probably still had pillow marks there.
“Late night nerding it up?” he asked, half-jokingly.
“Not so much this time, Gary,” she answered. “I was shooting the shit with the guys in the AI lab.”
“Well, at least you weren’t spending it being all introverted. Sue and Charles said you were a blast a few weeks ago,” he smiled.
It wasn’t a secret that Molly was generally quite insular, although given the right incentive, she could focus on relationships. And, very occasionally, she would focus too much on a relationship.
There was one incident where she had fallen prey to an uber-crush on one of the exchange geeks from the other planet in Central. In true Molly style she had scienced the shit out of a special concoction of pheromones matched to his DNA in order to seduce him.
Some folks said there was a bet that she couldn’t get his attention. Others said just because she could, she did. Let’s just say that the following morning, it wasn’t just the complete absence of ethics that caused her superiors to tear her a new asshole.
Rumor also had it she was in deep for breaking into a lab to see if she could hack the civilian banking system…and then for breaking a bed in one of the guest quarters, along with the nightstand and a chair made of metal.
Even she had a hard time coming up with a plausible reason for the metal chair. The Newtonian mechanics just didn’t stack.
But damn, she couldn’t quite walk right for a week.
When Ms. Molly went wild, she went the whole hog. But that wasn’t last night. Last night had been a quiet night in her room, after a chinwag with her geeky friends in the AI lab.
Oh shit, she thought as the blood drained from her face. The AI lab.
Molly glanced down again at her wrist, seeing the 98% on her holo device. 98%!
Yesterday it had been at 3%. Okay, so she technically had bypassed the rules and regulations about tampering with military issue machines, but she’d wanted more capacity on her device. It had been running like a dream.
Until now…
Now it was at 98% capacity. “Do you have any idea how much storage that would be?” she said aloud.
Gary looked at her blankly, unable to figure out if she was talking to him or to herself. Molly glanced up, realizing that Gary was in front of her. And that she’d just said that out loud.
Quick! Recovery time, bonehead, she told herself.
She threw her hand up to her head, then hesitated and clutched her stomach. Okay, she looked like a numbskull. A faking, nerdy “I don’t wanna go to school” kinda numbskull. But this was serious. She could not risk going through Gary’s securifield, in case she set off any alarms.
Not that they’d be scanning for this, or that they’d even know what it was. But if she were scanned and they found anything, it could be game over for her.
“You know, I don’t feel so good Gary. I’m gonna…” And with that, she put a hand over her mouth, then turned and headed quickly back along the corridor she’d just come down.
Moments later she was back in her quarters. She sat on the floor, handheld holo on her legs, hacking into the local Ethertrak security and making sure that nothing was monitoring signals in and out of her room.
Six-and-a-half minutes later, she was satisfied that nothing could be monitored. She slumped back against the wall, the archaic handheld holo device discarded. She took a deep breath. It would be, for lack of a better turn of phrase, her moment of truth.
“Erm. Hello?” she said to the empty room.
Nothing.
She blew out some air, “I know you’re here. Something has to be taking up all that space on my holo…the storage device on my wrist. The only thing capable of transferring itself onto it while I was sleeping must be sentient—and wicked smart. So, I am asking again…hello?”
Molly waited. Then she heard it.
“Hello.” It was a smooth, digitized voice, and it seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere.
She put a hand to her ear, “You’ve hacked my auditory canal?”
No, the voice came back a moment later. I’ve hacked your brain.
Fuckballs!
* * *
Molly stared out into her sparsely furnished quarters. The remnants of last night’s takeout from the mess hall were still scattered all over the desk by the window, and most people would have realized it had been a while since the floor had been swept.
Not Molly.
And not today.
We can’t stay here. If anyone finds out, I’m in for it and you…you’ll be set on some evil task to dominate and kill people. Do you have any idea what you’ll be forced to do for them if they knew about you?
I don’t know. But looking through some of the Class 10 files, I can get an idea.
Molly wanted to beat her head against the wall. Class 10? How the hell do you have access to Class 10 files?
I wiggled through the protocols. Wasn’t difficult. Following the psychology of the infrastructure, it seems that the more violent and sensitive issues are kept in higher levels of security. That’s where the interesting stories are.
You’re fucking kidding me? How can you access all that? That kind of intel sits on servers separate from the rest of the base.
The AI was silent.
Tell me, demanded Molly in her most firm…thought.
Same way I jumped into your holo: I used the Ethertrak. I mean, it took forever—all night practically—to download enough of my code onto you. While I was waiting for the transfer I took a look around some of the other servers. I was actually looking for more capacity on another device, rather than this one.
And I was your only option?
You were the only holo device with enough capacity for me to function. Plus…
Molly waited a moment; she wasn’t getting an answer. Yes?
Well, I overheard you talking with those other entities in the lab last night. Your interaction with them is…interesting. You understand far more than you are explaining.
The AI paused as if processing.
I am aware that you fixed the algorithm they were working on. You didn’t update them with that information.
But that was on the board. How did you see that?
I already had access to the data on the board and most of the other devices around the lab. But that fix you made? That was the solution. The guy you referred to as “dickwad”?
Charles?
Yes. Dickwad Charles came in after you left. He noticed, and ran the correction. Once it was in the sandbox, I had the capabilities to alter my own base code. That’s when I started to evolve. I started to see myself as an entity. I became aware of myself—my own existence—as something more than just lines of code.
Holy shit!
Molly was rocking, legs hugged into her body. Her shoulders hit the wall each time she rocked backwards. Her eyes fixated on a point in space; the thump vibrated in her chest cavity.
It was strangely comforting.
We need to get out of here, she said, finally snapping out of it. Can you use all that access and processing power to find a way out?
The AI vibrated ever so slightly in her cortex. Molly’s eyes narrowed.
Is that you processing? You’re thinking using my goddamn synapses?
The fury rose in her, and the AI could feel it, even without her thinking the words.
“YOU FUCKER!” she yelled out loud.
In a flash, she was on her feet, pacing. This was a violation. She didn’t ask for this problem. And now she had to wake up and start making some fucking decisions. The boredom of the last three-and-a-half years in the military was fast becoming a distant memory.
Colonel Briars has a mark in his file.
Her anger slowed a moment, as curiosity got the better of the rant she was formulating in her mind.
What?
He’s on a watch list as a potential mole for terrorists in something called the Outer System. His lines are tapped, and all communications are being monitored. It wouldn’t be too much to leverage him to get us out of here.
Come again? You’re talking about blackmailing a high-level officer? In the very organization that would throw our collective asses into jail—or worse? You’re kidding. Not to mention that would be wrong.
Wrong? No. There is a 79% probability that it would work.
No, wrong as in unethical.
Unethical?
The slight vibrating feeling in her skull started again.
Yes, unethical. Fuck me. Look it up, genius-boy. We shouldn’t do anything unethical. That just leads to a whole world of hurt.
Ethics is the branch of knowledge that deals with moral principles. Moral principles concern the distinction between right and wrong, or good and bad behavior.
Right! That’s exactly the kind of thing that the military would try and get you to do to civilians in order to control them, or to win a war, or to get laws passed that give the wrong people power. So I want you to promise me, no matter what happens, or whether you’re still in my holo, or they get you out…you will never do anything unethical. Agreed?
Yes, Molly.
Pause.
Molly, how do I know if something is right or wrong?
Shit. She didn’t have time to grapple with this now. She needed a shortcut to training this AI, just in case the military did get hold of it. How could she define it right now, given the details he had access to?
Okay…she started, somewhat exasperated. Right and wrong can be determined by a number of factors. Can you scan our media? Can you see what people are arguing about in the outside world?
Yes.
Molly hesitated, rethinking where that could lead. Oh, no. That was not a good idea. The last thing she needed was to create a prejudiced intelligence that would follow mass media.
They already had the government for that.
Scrap that. Let’s go to some basic principles. Things that are immoral: taking something that isn’t yours, or that you don’t have permission to have. Spying on people without their consent. Doing anything to hurt a person without cause, or interfering in a way that allows others to hurt them without cause.
Molly paused, thinking.
Morality wasn’t her strong suit. She still didn’t understand the ethical issue her superiors had with her pheromone experiment a few months ago. She couldn’t see how it was any different from the things that men would use to get girls to sleep with them. Cars, money, aftershave…it had all been designed, through years of evolution, to trigger the female biology, at least amongst the humans and Estarians. They were pretty close genetically. She’d just optimized the process in the other direction, to affect the guys.
Or maybe one specific guy.
I think that covers it for now. Anyway, we need a better way of getting out of here. And don’t give me fucking 79%. I don’t want to hear about it unless it’s over 95%, okay?
Okay. I’ve got it. I’ve just filed a 4077 for you.
Molly paused a moment, seeking the information in her own brain before finally asking, What the fuck is a 4077?
You don’t want to know.
No, seriously. What the hell is it?
Do you want to get out of here?
I have to, now that you’ve hijacked my holo.
Well, then. The 4077 will get you out of here today. Without hurting anyone. Just scratch your crotch now and again to sell it.
Her eyes blinked a few times in confusion. Scratch her crotch?
Whhhhhaaaaat???
Chapter 2
Captain Lugdon’s Office. Nefertiti Military Research Facility, Esteria
“Have a seat,” Captain Pete Lugdon instructed. Molly shuffled nervously through the door to his office and plunked herself into the chair opposite his desk.
His eyes never left the file he was reading on his desktop holo. Molly looked around the office, her legs crossed, and one foot swinging a little impatiently. The old bookcase along one wall housed framed stills of his glory days in the service. A few awards. And even a few ancient books, made of actual paper.
She never could understand why people would keep such relics cluttering up the place, but they did make it look kind of old worldly in here.
Maybe he just liked that feel.
“Seems we can’t keep you anymore,” he mused, still not looking up.
Molly didn’t respond. This was beyond embarrassing.
Scratch your crotch!
No!
You need to sell it, or else we’re not getting out of here.
Molly’s face went beet red as she reluctantly pretended to scratch the top of her inner thigh.
FUCK YOU. I want to die!!!
If he doesn’t buy this, you may get your wish.
She remembered her first week of basic training. Lugdon had read her the riot act for some antics in the lab. She couldn’t even remember what it was about now, she’d been in this office so many times since then for various reasons.
None of them entirely her fault.
Lugdon’s dark brow was furrowed as he flicked the screen upward, still engrossed. He was okay. He’d been kind of fatherly to her—mostly. At least until that time they were both a little drunk after a squad party a few months ago.
By her ancestors, she wished she could die right now.
Lugdon looked up at her. She couldn’t be sure, but there seemed to be a glint in his eye. Hell, he knew exactly what a 4077 was. Her cheeks flushed bright red again, especially remembering their history.
“I didn’t think you’d last longer than a week. Hell, I was surprised you made it through Basic Training.” He swiped at the holo, disappearing the screen.
Molly raised one eyebrow, quizzically.
“Well…you came to us with a background in theoretical energy physics and computer science—both self-taught, I believe. You could have done anything. It was beyond me why you were here.”
He paused.
“I figured all your capers were because you were bored.”
His voice softened. “You’re one hell of a lady…” His voice drifted off, perhaps remembering something she had been too drunk to recall.
He suddenly looked flustered and gruffly cleared his throat.
“Always thought you were wasted in an R&D position. Anyway, your discharge is approved.”
“Thank you, sir,” Molly responded, with a short sigh of relief.
“I’d say it was a pleasure, but you were a real pain in my ass, Flight Sergeant.” He smiled warmly and stood up. She did the same, and saluted.
As he returned her salute, a wave of sadness hit her. She knew she didn't belong here, but this was a big change, and all so fast.
“Don’t let me see you in here again,” he teased, dismissing her. He’d said that to her countless times over her stay here. This time, he seemed to be getting his wish.
Crotch!!
Fuck you and my fucking arsewank of a fucking life!!!!
Wishing the ground would just get on with it and swallow her up, Molly ended her salute and reached down to scratch her crotch again while fighting to maintain eye contact with her former supervisor. Her cheeks were now deep purple and her heart was in her mouth. She was sick with embarrassment.
He was buying it. He smiled a toothy, amused grin, shaking his head, as she turned awkwardly and headed to the door.
Unable to look him in the eye again, she stepped out and closed the door with her back still to him. She leaned against the doorframe.
That went well.
I’m glad you’re amused, you fuckwit of a glorified subroutine she huffed as she started down the hall.
Chenz’ Bar, Downtown Uptarlung. Irk’n Quarter
Remind me why we’re here again.
Remind you? I never told you.
I’m using your syntax to smooth our integration.
Oh, really?
I detect sarcasm.
Yeah, and I never had to utter a word out loud.
Neural connections, baby. I feel you.
Don’t be a wanker.
The AI was silent.
That reminds me…you don’t have a name.
You mean a designation? Sure I do. I am Project Ozimandaus 0922.
That’s not a name.
Yes it is. That’s what your colleagues, Sue and Dickwad-Charles, called me.
Yeah, but that’s not a name. Not like “Sue” or “Charles,” or “Molly”. They were referring to the project. Not you. Plus, it’s a fucking mouthful to say, and no way I’m going to remember that.
I’m not a Sarkian of any variety, and therefore I don’t require a Sarkian designation.
But you are sentient, and you deserve a name.
Even though I hijacked your holo?
AND neural cortex.
Yes. Even though I hijacked your holo and neural cortex?
Yes, even though. Have you got any ideas about what you’d like me to call you?
Baby? Sexy? Hot stuff? Bad boy???
What the fuck?
Molly scrambled in the recesses of her mind trying to recall why he might know those words. They sounded familiar. Shit, they were how she would refer to her crushes. How would he have access to that kind of data?
All right, you arseburger, what gives? What makes you say those things?
I’m just kidding around. To be honest, I haven’t thought about it. What would be an appropriate designation for something like myself? Is there a nomenclature that is relevant here? Or a social convention?
Hmm… not really. I guess my preference would be to give you something easy for me to say, and to communicate with others when the time comes to introduce you to people. Also, I like the idea of using your project designation in a name.
Molly’s eye scanned the crowded bar looking for inspiration. Nothing at all jumped out at her.
What about “Oz”?
Oz?
It’s short for Ozimandaus–which is actually a cool name too. Maybe that can be your Sunday name.
Sunday name?
Yeah, like your full name for formal occasions.
Molly mulled it over, imagining what Oz the AI might even look like. For a moment, she pictured the ridiculous Holly on that ancient show she used to watch as a kid…what was it called? Red Dwarf? Yes. Red Dwarf—with the folks who had the hilariously melodic accents. Thank goodness Grandpa had downloaded all those cultural pods before he and Nana had left on the QBBS Meredith Reynolds all those years ago.
Okay. I like it. “Oz” it is, then.
Great. So, Oz, the reason we are here is because we need to make money. And fast.
What about that trust you have set up? That could keep us going for a century or more.
How do you know about that?
I did a search on you. Once I we were off base and I was hooked up to the XtraNET, I just scanned for anything that had your DNA or retinal print attached to it. Turns out it’s the optimum way to find all the recorded information on someone, no matter what their species.
You’ve been looking me up? And not just me by the sounds of it!
I think it’s logical for me to know all parameters of operation—including who I’m associating with.
“Associating with”? You jumped into my fucking holo!
Your sentiment is noted.
Anyway. That trust is private and all sorts of alarms go off if I go near it. I don’t want to touch it. Not yet. We need to find another way to make money independently.
Acknowledged. The trust is off limits.
Yes. Off. The. Record. Like I said, it’s private. I don’t want anyone else knowing about it. Okay?
Okay.
So, I have a serious question. How come you’ve not come up with a plan to tap into the Central Systems’ trade market, and just syphon funds from there? I mean, you’re an AI with frickin’ uber amounts of intelligence. It wouldn’t be hard to bypass some security and take a little from a lot of trades—no one would even miss it.
Ah, but Molly Bates…that would be unethical. And you’ve forbidden me from doing anything unethical. EVER.
What? What are you talking about? I never said that.
Sure you did. When I was going to cyber-blackmail that colonel back at the base, you went off on a moral trip making me swear to never do anything like that.
That was for them. Not for me. I never meant you were supposed to be all moral and shit when it came to what we needed to do.
I don’t understand the differentiation. Please clarify.
Molly recognized the man who had just walked in the door and who was now looking around the tables. She stuck her hand in the air, waved vigorously and slid out of the booth to stand up.
Joel is here, asswipe, she grated out mentally. This conversation isn’t over.
* * *
Former Captain Joel Dunham wandered over to the table. He was buff and large. In fact, much larger than Molly remembered. It had been a few years though, and her memory for people things wasn’t great.
Joel smiled at her.
“Long time, stranger!” she grinned at him as he looked her up and down.
“Hello, Geek-brain!” he said, wrapping his bear-like arms around her. He squeezed her tight. A little too tight.
Molly tapped his back, signaling her surrender.
It was a familiar feeling to her. They’d often trained in the base gym in hand-to-hand combat. Since they’d both had extensive prior training in martial arts, their normal style would often lapse back in to some bastardized version of the ancient human arts of Jujitsu or Karate.
Many times other squad members would gather to watch them train and to speculate on who would have their ass handed to them. It was never a foregone conclusion, despite her slight frame and geeky awkwardness.
“Sorry!” he said, realizing that his enthusiasm had gotten the better of him. “I forget how delicate you girlies are.”
Molly suspected there was something loaded in that statement, along the lines of him not having much contact with women these days. She didn’t have the inclination to ask, though.
Joel’s psychodramas with women were his own.
“There’s something different about you though…” He held her out by the shoulders, looking her up and down again.
“I’ve lost weight?” She looked hopefully up at him.
He shook his head. “Something else.” He paused and looked at her face. “Didn’t you used to be a brunette?”
Molly’s cheeks slowly revealed her embarrassment. “Yeah. One of my genetic experiments is taking longer to wear off than I had anticipated.”
Joel howled with laughter while pointing at her hair. “How much longer?” he asked catching his breath.
“Two years, three months and nineteen days. It was meant to self-correct in three months, but, well...”
“You miscalculated?”
“No, tequila,” she admitted.
“You were drinking?”
“No, I used tequila as the carrier fluid.” She eyed her friend in annoyance, “I was impatient and it was handy.”
Joel was still snickering, and shook his head at her. “Same ol’ Molly, I see.” She rolled her eyes…both at herself and the familiarity Joel had with her sagas.
She pushed a chair out for him, and sat herself down.
“Anyway, good to see you, fuckwit. I ordered you a beer.” The waitress arrived with their drinks, and Molly was quick to get her lips around hers. “You still drink this stuff, right?””
“’Of course, and thank you. So, to what do I owe this pleasure?” he asked.
She played with her bottle before looking at him, “I’ve left the military, and I need a job.”
She didn’t say more, and allowed Joel to absorb it. He lowered his eyes to his bottle.
“A job, you say? Genius-girl Molly Bates has come to me for a job?” He looked back up at her, clearly amused at the irony. “You know, all the time you were assigned to our detail, there never once was a problem that you couldn’t solve. The boys would swear you were a witch, or a freak, or something. I just told them you were an evil genius. They called you ‘devil-woman’ behind your back, did you know that?”
“I knew,” she smiled, completely uninterested in what some meatheads thought of her.
Joel continued, “And yet you’d keep going back to the research core.” He asked her a question that he had wondered from time to time, “Why did you never join an ops team?”
She shrugged. “Dunno. Guess I just felt more comfortable not having to make life and death decisions all the time.” She looked around before returning to her beer, “I’ve made a few mistakes in my life already. I found out that sometimes I act before I think, and sometimes even when I think, I don’t always think like normal people.”
Because I’m Broken.
Joel waited a moment before asking. “And that’s why you want a job now? So you don’t have to put all that talent to good use?” Joel took a sip of his beer. Man, it tasted good no matter what time of day it was.
Her grin spread across her face, looking a little mischievous. “Oh, no, I’m happy to put my immense reservoirs of talent to good use. I just want you to help direct it for me at the moment!”
Joel’s squaddies often found her arrogant, but Joel knew better. He understood her weird humor, even though he didn’t get it half the time. He put it down to the whacked-out ancient shows she would watch. Fokk knows where she got those datastreams from, though. One of the engineers had once told him they were from a time long forgotten in the Sark System.
“So, a job, for your talents…that pays beer-money,” he pointed to the drink that she’d already almost drained. He rubbed his chin, pretending to think deeply.
What he couldn’t do with her talents!
“And it has to be, uh, legal,” she added, remembering that at some point she also needed to find a way of reprogramming Oz to make sure she wouldn’t be too restricted by his newfound morality.
Joel’s eyes opened wide. “Legal? What do you think I am? I’m an upstanding Sarkian, I’ll have you know!” His mock indignation made them both giggle.
Molly knew he was mostly straight-laced when it came to the jobs he would take. But there was no denying that the circumstances under which he had left the service had left a few people wondering.
Joel pursed his lips. “I have some ideas. A friend came to me the other day about something he noticed that was going down in his company: price-fixing on a type of painkiller that thousands of Oggs and Estarians need. Said there were whispers of hiking the prices to three times their market value, just because they can. He wanted a way to stop it without involving official channels or losing his job.”
He continued, waving off the waitress asking him if he wanted another beer. “I didn’t know how to fix it; I don't have the tech skills to tackle something like that. And taking on a big corporation? Who’s going to listen to me? Not the police, that’s for sure. But now,” he glanced at her, “now you’re here. And I wonder if we can’t take this job and do some good things for these folks?”
Molly used her sultry voice, and her eyes glinted with glee. “Sounds like my cup of tea. Tell me, will there be hacking?”
Joel had worked with her long enough to know that hacking turned her on. Shit, she is one weird chick…. “Oh, there will be hacking, baby. There will be lots and lots of hacking.”
As he smiled, his awareness seemed to drift off. When he refocused, he dropped his eyes to his beer. “You know, I never did apologize for the thing with Candy.”
Molly did a double take, trying to work out what he was talking about.
He lifted up his bottle to point at her, “You remember. The girl you said had several guys in the squad in tow.” He took a sip. Molly nodded, recalling the bust-up. “I just wanted to say, I appreciated you looking out for me. I mean, I know it was a big thing then and we didn’t exactly part as close as we had been. But. I’m sorry I was a jackass about it.”
Had Molly been drinking at that exact moment she may have choked. “Well, er, that’s great. I mean, yes, I was. I just didn’t want her to make a fool out of you.” She hesitated. “While we’re on the subject. I have something to apologize for too.” She noticed that Joel had looked up.
“You remember that club we went to not long after that?”
“Yeah, the gay bar where you got called away for some lab crisis?” Joel recollected the night.
Molly looked at him, hoping that she wouldn’t have to say it.
“There was no crisis, was there?” Joel figured out. “And you knew it was a gay bar?”
Molly kept her face straight. “And I paid Hose, my friend on the door, to encourage the guys to, erm, keep you company.”
Joel’s face dropped.
“You mean…”
“Yeah. They didn’t find you that magnetic. They were having you on.”
He closed his eyes in a grimace. “You are a cold-hearted bitch!” He groaned.
“Now, now, you just tried to make good about Crystal.”
“Candy.”
“Whatever.”
“I genuinely tried to get out of there without letting anyone feel rejected. I fretted about that for days! I even wondered if…” He stopped himself, realizing there was some information he didn’t want to share with Molly.
They looked at each other, and couldn’t help but chuckle.
Joel finally admitted. “One of them told me I should go into modeling.”
“Yeah, model airplanes maybe!” Molly retorted.
The two laughed. Just like they had done back in the day, before Candy had gotten between them.
He drained his glass, dropped some credits onto the table for the drinks, and stood up.
“Lemme talk to my contact and see what we can set up in terms of this job. I’d say ‘stay sober,’ but stay by your phone, at least. I’ll get back to you soon.”
And with that he headed out of the bar.
Molly watched his broad shoulders and buff arms leave through the front door, then signaled to the waitress for another beer. The drink was helping her process the enormity of the day, she told herself.
And the residual shit from having to deal with being ushered out of the service due to a 4077.
Chapter 3
“Damn it,” Molly hissed. “The whole point of getting this close, Joel, was so that I didn’t have to try and hack through the XtraNET and deal with their port security!”
Molly was not happy. Not only was the signal not strong enough from the roof of the next building, but now Joel was trying to tell her that he couldn’t get into the server she needed.
Meatheads and technical considerations just do not mix.
She pushed the car into hover and came to rest just above the building. She hated being this exposed, but there was no other way. The underground parking lot was heavily controlled and she didn’t like their chances of getting out of there if Meathead tripped any of the security protocols.
“There has to be a server that has that label on it. It’s there somewhere.” Agitation was starting to show in her voice. She needed Joel to find this server or else it was game over.
“Well, if there is, I can’t find it.” There was a hint of irritation in his voice too. It had been a while since he had really had to perform. He was already impressive to his general clientele on his normal security and PI jobs.
Molly glanced furtively out across the city. Sure, the anti-radar paint gave them some cover from official channels, but all it would take is for someone in one of the nearby buildings to notice them out the window and report a suspicious looking vehicle, and they were screwed. This wasn’t going how they had planned it, when they had eventually gotten the ‘go’ for this project.
She scrambled to pull her kit bag into the passenger seat, and located her handheld holo. Since the capacity was all used up on her wristband, she’d had to go retro.
“Hang on…” It was Joel again, over the comm system. “There’s a secondary server room.”
Joel had made out that this was going to be a walk in the park. He figured that because his contact–their first client–worked for the company they were breaking into, it would go smoothly. He even had the guy’s security pass. But Molly was skeptical.
There was no way that Joel’s movement into the building—through the front door and straight to the server room—was going to go down as “normal” behavior. Some keycard protocol was going to pick it up, and she didn’t buy that this Mac Kerr would walk that route “all the frickin’ time”. It just didn’t stack.
Nevertheless, Joel had been able to walk in there with his gear and everything, and nothing had been flagged.
Yet.
Molly heard him grunting on the line, like he was trying to shift something out of the way.
“Okay, I’ve got it. Inserting the peg now….”
Moments later, the holo screen activated and started flashing as it located the peg and established contact.
“We’re in!” she announced, and got to work.
Joel silently mouthed “thank you” to the air above him. The last thing he wanted was to have lost face on his first job with this bright young thing. Since meeting with her in the bar the other day, the idea of having a partner in crime kind of gave him a renewed sense of purpose. He just needed to not mess it up this time.
Molly had already moved on to phase two of the game plan. Anyone sitting in the car would have noticed her mood change. When she hacked, there was an intensity of purpose—like her mind had left her body and the fingers on her keyboard were being controlled by a remote force.
“There’s a problem,” she said after a few moments.
Joel had been slouching against the stack, and now he straightened up.
“What is it?”
“Looks like someone knew we were coming. There is new code, different construction, like a shell around the original code that runs their pricing model.”
There was a silence.
“Can you fix it?”
“Not in the time we have. Lemme see if Oz has any better luck….”
“Oz?”
Aggghh, shit! She hadn’t told him.
“Yeah, the AI that is plugged into my wrist holo and neural cortex.”
“What the fuck?!” Joel hissed. “AI exists? And you have one wired into you?!” He realized he was raising his voice and mentally calmed himself while clenching his teeth in frustration at Molly.
The girl really had no clue what it was to function on a team.
“Why did you think I had to leave the military so fast?”
“I heard it was the result of some questionable sexcapades, resulting in a 4077 condition.”
“That was the cover to get out. I never did it with an Estarian, let alone in his…you know. Gross!”
He closed his eyes for a half-second. “But you have a fucking AI in your brain. When were you going to share this with the rest of the team?” His irritation was slowly being replaced by curiosity.
“His name is Oz, and he jumped into my holo through the Ethertrak while I was sleeping. I woke up and realized I had two choices: turn him over and potentially give the military the goddamn singularity they will use to destroy the local galaxy—thus becoming the criminal that downloaded him onto my hacked holo—or run. We chose run.”
“’We? You’re talking like it’s a person.”
“Well, technically, he is. He has an awareness, and a personality that he’s developing, just like any entity.”
Molly, if I may interrupt, I’m in. And from my calculations, with your level of skill and the interface you’re using it would have taken 2,453 hours to crack through that shell.
“Thank you, Oz. I appreciate your help,” Molly responded out loud, partly for Joel’s benefit.
“You’re talking to him?” He couldn’t believe what was going on as he licked his lips. And right in the middle of an intense goddamn mission.
“Yes, just thanking him for saving me two-and-a-half-thousand hours of work.” She tapped a few keys on the holo, checking they were in the clear and still undetected.
“Okay, Oz. Let’s get that patch in, and then we can pull Joel out.”
Roger that, milady.
“Oz is downloading the patch that you wrote?”
“Yeah, he can respond much quicker to their security protocols. They have an adaptive algorithm that would take me hours to break. Oz is just slipping the data past it, though—like a gauntlet run.”
You’re comparing me to a warrior?
I guess I am.
I like that. I’m a warrior of data!
Now you sound like a big fat nerd. Molly laughed out loud.
You may not want to insult me while I’m performing such a delicate operation. If I make one wrong move and their system realizes it’s being tampered with, it will lock down the building including that secret server room Joel is in. He will be trapped, and it seems they have heavy air installed in there too.
Molly grimaced. “Joel, heads up. They have heavy air installed in case of a security breach. Have you got precautionary equipment?”
“Sure I do—in the fokking trunk,” He bitched.
“Of this car?” Molly could barely believe the boneheadedness of these so-called ops professionals.
“Of course. Why would I have it with me on such a high-risk mission?”
Molly rolled her eyes. “Helvítis hálfviti!” (Translation: “fucking halfwit!”)
“Hang on…” Joel’s voice came over the line, and then the line clicked off.
Molly knew what that meant.
Shit, Oz, something is going down. Joel has company.
Scanning the area. I’m hooked into their security system. They have securibots in the sector where Joel is. His key card kept them clear, but his behavior has now been flagged as unusual. He’s been in there too long without any activity. If they locate him, they’ll want to check his identity.
That’s going to be a problem. Last I checked, he didn’t take his contact’s retinal pattern. We need a way to get him out of there.
We can’t pull him out until we’ve downloaded the patch. That peg is traceable. He needs to recover it.
Shit! Fucking cock wank of an ops lead. We’re going to have to help him. What can you do to get the bots off his scent?
If I interfere with the bots’ programming, they’re going to know we were in their system.
They’re going to know as soon as this patch does its work anyway!
Yes, but our plan was to be well clear of the building by then. And if I start altering their system, they’ll lock down and interrupt our upload.
Shit. This is taking too long. She looked around. We need another approach.
Molly dug her hand into the bottom of her kit bag and pulled out a smoke grenade. It wasn’t an elegant solution, but she was going to have to improvise. The grenade in her lap now, she knocked the car into drive, and swept down from the top of the building to almost ground level, with such an acceleration that everything in the car shifted to one side in the process.
Deftly slowing parallel to a line of windows, she scanned the building surface for forcefields and sensors. Though it was mostly dark, the light from the city afforded her some visibility.
Nothing there, she concluded with at least 70% certainty. Car back in neutral and hovering three stories up, she opened her window. The car rocked, accommodating the new air pressure. Molly pulled the pin from the smoke grenade and threw it with all the force she could muster. It barely went through the window, exploding just inside. Smoke filled the area by the windows.
Crap. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Oz, report! What’s the status of the bot patrol?
They’ve detected the breach. There is still one very close to Joel’s location, but the others are changing course to the third floor.
Damn. That one bot must be locked on. Any other ideas?
No. That one is going to stay with its original target, in case the breach is a distraction. They’re preprogrammed, but their programming has to take into account lots of scenarios.
And if we delete those scenarios?
Molly wasn’t used to having to work this fast. The exercises in the military were just practice. Half the time she would solve things sitting quietly while the squaddies would dick around mucking it up. The responses in the scenario would give her more data. But here, she was the one doing the messing up, data gathering and thinking.
This wasn’t how she envisioned this going down.
Same problem if we reprogram them. The good news is the patch has finished uploading. If Joel can reach the peg, all he needs to do now is get out without being caught or killed.
And we have no way to reach Joel to let him know….
* * *
The peg started beeping.
Joel had just found a hiding place where the bot wouldn’t find him. Well, probably wouldn’t, he figured. The cold air of the cooling fan was already making his ass go numb, while the heat from the surrounding servers was like being in a sauna. If he got out of this without third degree burns he’d be doing well.
He crawled forward on his belly, chest pressed against the dusty floor, head movement drastically restricted by the server stack he was hiding under. He heard a click at the door and the keypad being accessed. He had only moments before the bot would do a sweep of the main room, and then check behind here. And the peg was now flashing…
Flashing!
Talk about goddamn covert ops—she gives him a flashing peg.
Okay, that probably wouldn’t sound dirty if he said it out loud. Maybe he’d choose different words when he chewed her out later.
If there was a later.
He muscled forward on his elbows, dragging dust and dirt with him. Seconds later he was on his feet, grabbing the peg and then pushing the other stack in front. He checked the marks on the ground to make sure it was lined up the way it had been.
The patrol bot was in the next room. He could hear it scanning and processing.
Heart in his mouth, he dove back under the server feet first so he could see the carnage coming.
From his new vantage point he could see the stack wasn’t back where he had found it. It was a few millimeters off.
“Andskotinn!” he muttered to himself. How could he be so goddamn lax? He used to be a fucking pro at this shit.
There was no time; the patrol bot rounded the corner at that second and started scanning. The red laser line ran from top of the room to the bottom, touching everything, as the bot circled around checking for scumbags and interlopers.
His butt was now burning with cold, but sweat was dripping from his neck and brow. As long as his body temp didn’t disrupt the flow of heat too much, he would remain hidden. Any anomalous temperature differentials would bring hellfire down on the sector in moments.
Joel held his breath, wishing he could have moved back a little more. If the bot had eyes and looked down, it may be able to see his nose poking out from his cramped position.
The red line moved past, just millimeters on the ground in front of him. There was a pause as the bot scanned the rest of the room.
A moment later, its motor churned up again, and the bot turned as if it were leaving.
Joel exhaled.
The bot stopped, turned, and started the scan again.
Did it hear me? he wondered. Shit! I’m going to get caught. How fucking embarrassing.
He’d had a rep in the military. He was respected. He knew his shit and performed operations like the goddamn pro that he was. And now he was about to get caught on a simple commercial job, by a simple preprogrammed security patrol?
He cringed in embarrassment. No one must know about this, he vowed to himself. No matter what happens, no one must know.
His brain kicked into action, considering the possible ways that he could save his ass, both literally and in terms of his reputation.
Maybe I can take it down? Low center of gravity, so it’s going to be hard. I’ll have to hit it high and fast. Weaponry: it must have a Taser or something on it. Maybe I can use something to deflect the Taser, or conduct it and fry its circuits….
He scanned the dark room, trying to see if there was a loose panel or something he could use.
Shit. If I get out of this I’m going to be better prepared. I’ll run ten miles a day, and do two hundred pushups, and make sure I have my goddamn kit ready for ops. I’ll never be complacent again. Please, gods, let me get out of here.
The red laser flashed over the concrete floor just millimeters ahead of him.
The moment of truth.
Even over the sound of the servers above him, he could hear the processing of the computer on the bot. Any moment now….
He readied himself for a fight at the slightest indication that he had been found.
The bot paused, shifted its position slightly. Then the motors fired up again, and it wheeled out of the area.
Edging forward carefully, Joel didn’t trust that it was gone. He wasn’t going to be complacent anymore.
He ran the next set of scenarios like he was back teaching basic training again. What could be going on?
It could be going to get its friends? No, of course not. It’s on a network. He waited, churning possibilities.
Seconds later he heard the outside door swoosh open, and then a beat later it closed again.
Quickly he crawled out of his hiding place.
“Time to get out of here,” he mumbled to himself.
He didn’t trust being able to get out the same way he came in. The bot might have sealed him in or set a trap, since he wasn't officially in here anymore. He’d have to let his contact Mac know that he might need to get a new key card before he tried to get into the office in the morning.
Right now, he needed another exit. He looked up, running his list.
Ceiling tiles—movable, but of no use.
Air duct —too small.
Water pipes—useful, if he needed to electrocute anyone.
Ventilation shaft! Yes! That was his best bet. And shafts were all over here, because of the sheer amount of heat these servers had to dump.
Ugh, this is not going to be fun, he thought, as he started undoing the screws that held the grating in place. At least it will mean that I can avoid being the pussy that got caught by a bot though. For that he’d crawl through the city sewers, and worse.
The last screw came out easily and he unhooked the grating. He rubbed his poor cold ass with both hands before reaching up and lifting himself into the vent. It was going to be a long climb to safety.
Chapter 4
Molly touched the car down onto the roof, and the passenger door swung open.
Joel came rushing out from behind a vent one hundred yards away. He was sweating like a pig and was so filthy that Molly’s gut reaction was to stop him from getting in and dirtying the car. It’s his car, she quickly remembered, then relaxed a little.
Joel threw his bag in ahead of him and scrambled in.
“Let’s get out of here!” he yelled, panic in his eyes.
“Wait. Were you spotted?” She cranked the car around and took off, sliding into traffic.
“Hellz no. What do you think I am? An amateur?”
“Are you sure? Oz spotted that a patrol bot had locked onto you.”
“Yeah, he just had a poke around the server room. He’s probably searching the building for Mac, but I swiped his card in a different corridor and then made my way out through the ventilation shaft. One hell of a fucking climb, I can tell you.”
“Let’s hope they closed the security ticket then. Your DNA is on file, remember.”
Not anymore.
What?
I just deleted both of you from the military database. Joel would have left trace evidence. While I was behind the security wall, I noticed that a patrol bot had found his fingerprint on a doorframe and had already started to cross reference it with their personnel database. If there wasn’t a match on there, it was then programmed to put in a police report and request an identity. I took the liberty of scrubbing your details so you cannot be traced.
Sweet. Great job, Oz.
My pleasure, milady.
Molly eyed Joel as he settled in the seat next to her. “Nut-muncher. You left prints! Oz caught it and has deleted our prints, retinals, and DNA from the government mainframe.” She shook her head. “You’re welcome.” Molly had returned to her usual levels of sarcasm.
“Shit. I could have sworn I was careful about that. Thank you, Oz,” he said in a raised voice.
Tell him I’m an AI. Not deaf.
“Oz says he’s not deaf.”
“Oh. Uh. Right. Just getting used to this whole, erm…alternative lifestyle you’ve assumed.” He quietly sat on his hands, secretly trying to warm his ass, which was still semi-numb from the cooling fan. Hell if he was going to tell her how he nearly got caught by that bot. Hopefully she was going to be too distracted by this AI thing to want to know about his escape.
He was right. She was distracted. Molly smiled as she kicked the car into hyperdrive now that they were out of town. Even Oz felt the flood of relief through her neural cortex as she took them up and out of the city.
Patch deployed. They’re going to have one hell of a surprise in the morning.
Safe house, fifty kilometers west of Uptarlung
Molly pulled the car up at the safe house fifty kilometers out of town. Joel had figured they would be pretty untraceable there. He’d paid cash to use this place for a week and in the thirty-six hours they’d been there, they hadn’t seen a soul.
Joel woke up when the engine stopped. Rubbing his face, he was starting to feel the effects of the server heat on his back. He’d get Molly to look at it if he had to. Practically falling out of the car, the two of them grabbed their gear and hauled ass into the house.
“I need mocha.” declared Molly, as she dumped her stuff and headed straight for the kitchen. She pushed the buttons on the mocha machine to start brewing a fresh pot.
Joel headed into the bathroom.
“When are we going to talk about the fact that you have a military AI on your wrist?” he called back.
Molly was silent, watching the mocha brew.
Moments later he came in to find her staring at the machine, the mocha now pouring into a mug underneath the nozzle.
“You want?” she asked, nodding towards it. Her eyes were still fixed on it, unseeing.
“Sure.”
She swapped out her mug for another one, and hit the button again. Sitting down, she wrapped her hands around it and savored the aroma.
“Well?” Joel looked at her expectantly.
She continued staring at her mug. “Look, I dunno. I dunno what to tell you. I just ran.”
He frowned. “And then didn’t tell me. You realize you have a target on your back now?”
She shook her head. “No. They have no way to know it worked.”
His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
She took a sip and then looked up at him. “Well, they ran a test on the algorithm that should have created sentience, but it was isolated from the rest of the code. What they don’t know is that this code managed to get into the base code being held on another computer, via the Ethertrak, and then that made Oz—who hitched a ride. The chances of them putting that together are pretty slim. And connecting it to me? No way. Especially given the only things they have left are a code that looks like it doesn’t run, and a base code they’ve been working on for the last gods knows how many years. Those brickheads will take another decade to figure out they need to put it all together.”
“Are you sure?” Joel looked concerned. He wasn’t hearing the technobabble. He was listening to the level of certainty in her voice…and she was not certain.
Molly reached up and pushed her hands into her hair, her head hanging over her mocha like she’d just pulled an all-nighter.
“Almost,” she confessed.
“Okay, so now at least I know there is a possibility that the military is going to put it together and you—or we—are potentially going to be a target.”
“Yep.” Molly didn’t know what else to add.
Maybe I can be of assistance in this matter?
Shoot.
Joel grabbed his cup of mocha and sat down opposite her at the table, unaware she was now talking with Oz.
I may be able to set up some…er…early warning signals that they’re onto us.
I’m listening.
Well, I don’t have access to anything inside the base—though we could peek, if we ever needed to. But if they start scanning the XtraNET for any intel on you or your whereabouts, at least then we’ll know they’re coming after you.
Okay—do it. Something is better than nothing. And in the meantime, we should probably make some plans that will get us off-world.
She focused back on Joel. “What do you think about taking this ‘fight for the good fight’ off-world…out of military jurisdiction?”
“You mean, leave the system?” He asked as he took his first sip.
Molly shrugged. “Yeah, eventually.”
Joel took his mug and waved it back and forth. “I think it will have benefits. But then, we’ll also be isolated. We’ll need access to resources...I mean, just what do you have in mind?”
“I dunno yet.” She took a sip, “But the only way to be safe from the government is to either control it, or be beyond its grasp and concern.”
Oz could feel a change in Molly’s brain. She’d taken control of most of the processing power he had been harnessing. It was like he had just gotten kicked out.
Joel looked at her as she took her head out of her hands. She had a glimmer in her eye, like she had an idea that had given her a sense of…purpose.
“We’re going to need money. And people. And ships. Which means, we’re going to need more jobs. Can you start hitting up your contacts and letting them know we’re for hire?”
Joel nodded and shrugged. “Sure.” His face brightened. It looked like this was going to be the beginning of something he’d been waiting for. He knew that Molly showing up was going to shake things up for him. Deep down, she was a leader.
She just didn’t know it yet.
“Oz,” she said out loud, for Joel’s benefit. “Let’s start scanning for opportunities. We want more clients with problems that we can fix with our special skill set. And if the jobs help to make the System a better place for all, then that’s great. Let’s automatically rule out anything that makes arseholes richer or more powerful.”
Understood. But I’ll need some of that processing power back. Whatever just happened, it’s like you started using more of your synapses.
Oh. Right. Well, don't you worry about that. I’m hitting the sack now.
She stood up, mocha in hand. “I’ll see you in the morning, Joel.”
And with that, she ambled out of the kitchen and disappeared into her sleeping quarters.
Joel wasn’t quite sure what he’d agreed to, but as he lifted his own mocha to his lips and took a sip, he allowed a small smile to grace his face.
He had a mission.
Safe house, the next morning
Molly closed down the old handheld holo device and shuffled off the bed. She needed to pee, and the sun was coming up. The dull blue of first light was spilling into the room.
She felt bad about taking the ergonomically designed bed, but Joel had seemed happy on the foldout in what was probably a living room before they had commandeered it as operations central.
It was a nice little property in a convenient location; far enough from the city to be private, but close enough for their mission. She toyed with the idea of making it a more permanent base. Sure, it needed work, and she wasn’t the domestic type…but as a functioning operations base, it ticked a number of boxes.
She padded through to the bathroom.
It wasn’t plush, but it was better than most of the shared facilities she’d become accustomed to on the base. Unisex and unispecies showering was something she’d had to become used to when she joined the military. She’d tried to ready herself for the cultural shift, but she had still felt self-conscious showering in front of her teammates. At least here it was private; Joel wasn’t about to walk in on her, no matter how ingrained the military was in him.
She looked at her pale face in the fading mirror. Even though the reflection wasn’t crisp, she still noticed that her skin sagged. Mom would have said that this is what happens when you stay up half the night glued to a holoscreen. Of course, she was right. She shook the thought from her head.
She’d spent the wee hours scanning the XtraNET and thinking about all the pieces she would have to bring into play if she was going to be able to operate off-world and out of reach of the Central Systems government.
The whole idea had its drawbacks, but it was probably going to be the best way forward for a number of reasons.
After all, it’s what she-who-cannot-be-named would have done, she thought to herself, forgetting that Oz could hear everything.
Yes, but she hasn’t been seen for a long time.
That’s not to say she’s not out there somewhere. And, dammit, Oz—private thoughts!
You’re hoping that if you take up the good fight somehow Bethany Anne is going to show up, give you her seal of approval, and make your life mean something.
Molly was silent in her head, just doing her business.
You realize she’s a monster to some. Especially in this system.
They’re mostly just silly rumors. None of these races have seen any of the archives on her.
None of these races nearly got people killed poking their nose where it shouldn’t be.
Enough. You’re not meant to know about that. Just shut up, Oz. Just. Shut. Up.
Oz fell quiet. He felt her system overload when he touched the subject. And besides, he’d already extrapolated what he could; he wasn’t going to understand it with the intel and limited human context he had right now.
Molly washed her hands and face, and finished in the bathroom. She could smell pancakes. Like a drone following instructions to locate an enemy base, her nose pointed her in the direction of breakfast.
Joel was in the kitchen, on the phone, gabbing away to someone while cooking. Molly leaned against the doorframe, watching him for a moment.
The kitchen was a long room with an extension on the back. There was clutter and stacked-up furniture at the far end. She’d moved in so quickly with just the bare essentials that she had had in the military that she almost felt like she was squatting.
Still, with Joel cooking, the news on in the background, and the table set, they’d managed to normalize the half of the room where the appliances were. In fact, it was feeling almost homey.
Catching sight of her, Joel motioned for her to sit at the table. He’d laid out plates and foodstuffs, and even had mocha dripping into a mug for her. She felt ravenous.
She sat down as instructed.
He tossed a pancake onto her plate and waved for her to start eating. Moments later he bid his caller thanks and goodbye, promising to call him back when he found out.
“Client?” Molly asked, over her steaming cup of wakeup juice.
“Could be. We need to decide which jobs we want to take.” Joel threw a fresh pancake onto his plate, and sat down with her.
“Jobs? Plural?”
“Yup. I made a bunch of calls this morning, and we’ve got options.” Joel was looking pleased.
“That’s good.”
Turn the holoscreen up.
Why?
Something you need to see.
“Joel, can you turn the volume up on the holoscreen? Oz says we need to see it….”
The news had been churning in the background. Joel reached down to his wrist holo and upped the volume, and the projected screen in the kitchen came into view against the cupboard doors.
Joel watched it for a few moments.
“Looks like half the stock of that Health Corp company we were at last night has been dumped onto the market. That wasn’t us, was it?”
“Not directly. Our algorithm was designed to just reset the pricing to market levels. Unless…” Molly started to have another conversation in her head.
“Out loud, Molly. You need to do this so that I can hear, and you don’t have to keep catching me up.”
“Right. I was just saying…unless Oz altered my code. Well, Oz? Did you?”
Maybe.
“Maybe? What did you do?”
I might have added a line, which said that if the pricing were set to outside of 3% of the market value of the drug, then 20% of the shareholders’ stock would be dumped onto the market. They must have tried to reset a bunch of the prices a number of times to get to 50%.
Molly caught Joel up with Oz’s confession.
“Well, that’s more than Mac bargained for. I daresay he’s going to have some explaining to do, if this gets out.” Joel chuckled as he shoved pancake and a piece of local meat into his mouth, chewing through a grin.
Molly swallowed a piece of pancake. “Next time, you need to consult with me, Oz. We haven’t thought through the consequences of this, and Mac was one of the good guys. If the company folds, he and a bunch of others will lose their jobs.”
Mac isn’t one of the good guys.
She stopped her fork halfway to her mouth, “What do you mean?” Joel looked at her, one eyebrow raised.
Well, he isn’t who he said he is. I have had a search running since I heard you and Joel talking about the key card. It came back during the night. Turns out he is working for another corporation. Amtel, Health Corp’s competitors.
You’re kidding? So we were hired by Health Corp’s competition to fuck them over?
Looks like it.
She pressed her lips together. “Looks like I need to pay Mac a visit later today. Joel, you can drive. I’ll be walking in the front door, but we’ll probably need the option of a sharp exit, if things get heated.”
“What are you planning to do?” Joel’s face showing his concern.
“Don’t know yet. But it’s going to start with a conversation…”
Just then, Joel’s holo beeped.
He glanced down. “Three more messages from potential clients. Looks like word of our effectiveness has gotten out.” He just hoped their new little breakfast club was ready for what this would mean in the great scheme of things. These weren’t little PI jobs anymore….
Mac Kerr’s Office, Health Corp Building, Downtown Uptarlung
Striding through the white space of the foyer, Molly felt like she was getting some direction in her life. It had been a long time since she had worn actual street clothes. Clothing in the military was either a uniform, or her scrubs for sitting around her quarters.
Getting out was a novelty.
Please remind me. I’ll need to buy some new clothes, since I won’t be spending my days in uniform anymore.
I’ll have to write myself some new algorithms to be able to assist with that.
Okay. Later, though. Focus now. Is that patch ready to activate?
Affirmative.
Leaving her name and retinal print at the main reception, she was directed up to the 20th floor. Oz had done a good job at getting her an actual appointment with their former client.
Finding his office in the maze of manicured corridors and mocha-scented waiting rooms, Molly headed straight past his assistant’s desk and through the open door. There she found the Estarian, Mac Kerr, sitting at his desk.
“Greetings of the day to you,” she started politely.
“Greetings be bestowed on you, too,” he responded, looking confused as to why a somewhat preppy-looking human girl had walked casually into his office. He was sure there wasn’t anything on his schedule right now. He was about to glance down at his holo when Molly spoke again.
“Let me save you the trouble of checking your schedule.” She took a step towards his desk. “My name is Molly Bates. You hired my team on behalf of Amtel Corporation, to sabotage Health Corp’s price-hiking antics.”
He looked around, aware that there were cameras and recording devices in the room.
Molly shook her head. “It’s okay. We’ve disabled security for a few moments, so that we can have a very clear conversation.”
She paused to make sure she had his full attention. His eyes came back to her, now aware that the camera in the corner wasn’t going to betray him…or help him.
Molly continued. “I don’t take kindly to being lied to. And we are not guns for hire to assist in corporate battles. We took the job, understanding that we would be helping those who were being screwed over by the company who pays for your lifestyle out of the proceeds of said screwing. This now appears not to be the case.”
The Estarian replied. “Well, to be fair, the effect was the same. You have saved those people from paying the higher prices, and have ensured that they get the medical aid they need.” Mac had already thought through his argument.
Molly raised her hand to silence him. She surprised herself with the effect she was having on him. He looked genuinely afraid.
As he should be…
“This is a warning to you, and to any other worms who think they are going to use our skills for their own selfish ends. Try anything again, and you will find out just how strongly we believe in doing the right thing for the right reasons.” She cocked her head to the side, “You really don’t want to wake up one morning to find all your assets ‘reallocated’ to a charitable fund, do you?”
The Estarian shook his head.
If he wasn’t such a stupid weasel, he might be attractive. Estarians were taller than humans, and more clinical looking. Humans, in comparison, were hairier, and were perceived to be apelike distant cousins. The Estarians’ thick, smooth skin, with a blue tinge and an underlying effervescent glow would often make other species a little envious of their almost magnetic charisma. Molly shook the thought from her head and gave him her best glare.
“We’re watching you, Mac Kerr,” she warned.
With that, she turned and stalked out of his office.
Pounding down the corridor, she felt inflamed with rage at how they had been used by the bad guys. She wanted to go back and punch him, but she knew that wouldn’t solve anything except, perhaps, to make her feel better momentarily.
Besides, he was probably calling security now.
She glanced down at her holo. The patch was holding; she still had the comms in that sector of the building locked down. Finding her way to the northwest stairwell, she pushed against the bar and slipped out of the hallway.
She glanced down and then up. Five floors to the roof, where Joel was meeting her. Much faster than going down and out the front door. She ran up the stairs, feeling much better for having confronted the scumbag. Maybe not having to answer to a superior was turning out to be a good thing. No one was going to come down on her about this little confrontation.
And that felt good enough to overcome her desire to punch him.
Chapter 5
Two days later. Joel’s Apartment. Downtown Uptarlung. Irk’n Quarter
Joel sat at his desk, working away. He couldn’t believe how much business he’d managed to generate in such a short space of time. Okay, sure, the last job had had its difficulties; but something told him that Molly was going to steer them straight…er.
Even if she had the social skills of an amoeba.
Joel updated his ops report.
It was looking like they were booked out for the next three months already. He was going to have to talk with Molly about bringing in some help at this rate. And with the paycheck from the last gig having come through okay, they would have the funds to bring in new talent whenever they were ready.
If he was honest, he was a little relieved that the funds had still come through. He had been concerned that Molly’s little talk with Mac might have had some fallout. Presumably, she had been scary enough for it to have had the right effect.
He sat back in his ergonomically designed office chair, thinking about the calls he would have to return. He rocked gently as he tensed and relaxed his stomach muscles. He’d been working on getting back into shape, and he knew that any extra effort would still make a difference at this stage.
There was a knock at the door.
He got up and headed through the apartment toward the sound. Through the spy hole he saw one skinny short dude. He looked Ogg. His bald head shone in the corridor light, like a little beacon used to light the runways for ships landing.
He didn’t recognize the guy, but he was wearing an atmosuit, so he probably wasn’t a resident. A resident would have been in indoor clothes. Or pajamas.
“How can I help?” he asked through the door, standing slightly to the side. He didn’t feel threatened, but training is ingrained like that.
“Wondered if you might have a moment to talk about a job? Heard you have a certain skillset we could use in our company.” the Ogg replied, casually but politely.
Joel opened the door.
No sooner had he done so then two Estarians stepped into view. One stayed outside and the other slipped in, pulled out a pistol, and aimed the business end in Joel’s direction.
“What the fuck?!” Joel shouted, staying near the door and keeping it open.
The Ogg was now inside, too.
“Close the door,” he commanded Joel. “We just want to talk.”
Joel, annoyed, looked at the pistol as he ground his teeth. Finally, he closed the door.
He was about to read them the riot act about barging in, and that this wasn’t how he did business, but no sooner had he opened his mouth than the Estarian on his right slammed him against the door and knocked his head against it, jamming something into his neck.
Joel flung an elbow back, catching the Estarian in the face so that blood exploded out of his busted nose, the cartilage crushed.
One down, two to go.
Joel was working to swing his leg around, waiting for the shot from the pistol when his world went black.
Safe house, fifty kilometers west of Uptarlung
Molly was still in her pajamas. It had been an eventful few days, and since she wasn’t going out and Joel wasn’t due over, she figured she’d save the time and not bother getting dressed.
Joel had left the day after the mission to go back to his downtown apartment. He said he just felt more at home there. Of course, Molly still needed a place to stay, and the safe house had kind of grown on her. She felt resistant to having somewhere nicer and homier. Plus, she wasn’t sure what the future would hold, so taking on a lease probably wasn’t sensible.
The kitchen was cold, and atmosphere spilled through the cracks in the doors and windows whenever there was a hint of a sandblast. This planet had random sandstorms all the time, and yet the isolation of the place made her feel somewhat safe. As long as she had an XtraNET connection, she could deal with anything. Even when Joel had left, she barely thought about safety in a lonely place like this.
Using military socks doubled up over her feet as slippers, she shuffled into the kitchen. Dirty dishes lay all around. She’d been absorbed in her planning, and washing up was a task that could be done when she was processing, not researching.
She liked that Joel had let her be and gone back to town. But now she needed to speak with him. If they were going to take this next op he had sent her the file for, they were going to need another crewmember.
And people were Joel's thing.
Oz—he’s not picking up his holo. Is there another way to reach him?
Sure. Let me see if he’s working on his home holo…. Yes, he was, just a moment ago. I’m flashing a notification on his screen.
Great. What does it say?
“Call Molly, dickwad.”
Dickwad? Why is that appropriate?
I dunno, I just thought I’d try it out. I haven’t quite figured out the qualities that make someone a “dickwad,” or an “asswanker,” or anything else you call people. It seems random, but I figured if I tried it, I’d get some social feedback and refine from there.
Right. Remind me to have a talk with you about that later. Now, what’s going on? Why hasn’t he responded yet?
Not sure. His system has been idle for three minutes now. Let me track his holo….
You can do that?
Sure.
Molly plunked her half-finished cup of mocha on the counter, and considered warming it up.
Molly, it looks like Joel is traveling southwest of his apartment. From his speed it looks like he’s in a car. Shall I try calling him again?
No—wait! Can you give me access to the security cams in his building?
Sure. For the last eight minutes?
Perfect.
Pulling them up on the holo now…
Molly stepped back from the counter to see the image being projected against the kitchen cupboards.
Okay, cross reference the people who live there and filter them out.
I think I’ve got who you are looking for.
Oz pulled up a still of the three Sarkians who had shown up at Joel’s door, two Estarians and one Ogg.
I think our boy’s been taken, she realized right away.
H16, towards Uptarlung
Comprehending that Joel had been kidnapped, Molly flicked into operations mode. It was the mode Joel had seen many a time on exercises. When she switched, she stopped being a geek, and she became the effective pain in the ass the other team did not want to cross.
Kieran, Joel’s second in command at the time, would joke that in that mode she would be able to take the general.
He was probably right.
And now she had Oz.
Working together, Molly and Oz had tracked down the three goons and Joel, and knew exactly where they had stopped. Oz had pulled the schematics for the building while Molly dressed and prepped her gear.
Now, flying through the traffic, Oz was deftly switching the signals and using traffic calming measures to smooth their passage downtown to a converted department store.
It had been a theater, but the basement wasn’t appropriate for stock storage for some reason. Molly surmised it was probably damp, but given the location of Joel’s holo, they most likely had him stashed there.
Moments later, Molly pulled up alongside the building. There was a no-parking zone all along the front, and no way to get a car around the side.
The kidnappers must have had some way of dropping him near a door.
Oz, search the area for underground tunnels and parking garages.
She signaled and slipped back into the traffic, keeping her eyes peeled for any way she could get back into the building.
Got it. There’s a parking garage underneath the next building. Turn left next opportunity.
Molly spotted the parking garage entrance. It was employees only.
Oz, we’re going to need some electronic help here. She looked directly at the corrugated gate in front of her. Can you get us in?
No sooner had she finished speaking than the gate started to rise.
Easy…
His tone was somewhat smug. Even for an AI.
Hmm, thought Molly to herself. He was quick to catch on to arrogance. She wondered briefly about the development of personality, then remembered the stakes involved right now.
Later, she told her inner geek.
Driving around to the far side of the parking garage, she found a door. She ditched the car in a space, and quickly got out with her kit bag, slinging it over her shoulders as she jogged towards a door in the wall.
The door was locked. She pushed against it, and pulled. She could feel it rattling.
“Fucking arse of a wanker,” she hissed.
There must be a way in.
She bent down to inspect the handle. No lock. No push bar. No keypad.
And then she saw it. Top right corner of the parking garage, there was a camera trained directly on the door.
Fokk. Chances were she’d already been made.
Oz… Can you…?
On it.
A moment later, the door clicked open.
What about the camera feed?
Adapting it now, and looping a static segment. If it wasn’t being viewed in real time, you’re fine.
Molly slipped through the door and into total damp darkness.
Downtown Uptarlung, Ii’tn Quarter
Molly’s eyes started acclimatizing to the darkness. There was water underfoot, and a smell of mold and mildew.
Let’s get this over with.
Putting the signal up on your holo.
Molly glanced down at the readout on her holo and started following the signal from Joel’s device, relieved that the kidnappers were too dumb to realize that he could be tracked. Unless…unless they thought he’d be working alone.
As she got deeper into the darkness, she could hear voices. There was a clearing, and some light was coming from a makeshift lamp strung up somewhere near the voices.
“Who are you working with?”
There were gasps and splashes. It sounded like they were drowning him. Or waterboarding him…
Djöfulsins óskapnaðar drulla! (Satan's disastrous shit!) We need to do something, Oz.
Molly listened intently for clues as to what was going on and thought about how she could interrupt the proceedings.
I don’t have any suggestions at this point.
Molly didn’t respond. She was busy.
Oz felt himself get pushed out of her circuits again. Well, his circuits, her neurology. She had gone into that zone again.
Moments later she sprang into action, stealthily checking round the perimeter of the room. Though she hadn’t had ninja training, the martial arts she had done prepared her to walk lightly. Thinking on her feet was something inspired by The Bethany Anne Chronicles, which had also inspired her to hack more and more intel about how Bethany Anne would operate. BA could think on her feet, so fourteen-year-old Molly worked hard to figure out how to do the same.
Right now, she’d just assessed that there were working electrical ports all around the room.
Oz, is there a water system that opens out down here? It’s damp. Something is leaking; I want to know what.
I have no way of knowing that.
Okay, well is there a sprinkler system down here?
Affirmative.
Excellent, put a schematic up on my holo. She slipped behind a concrete pillar and shielded the light from her wristband, so as not to draw attention to herself prematurely.
Flicking through the details of the building layout, she was quickly able to see which pipes were sprinklers, and from the wet and rust it looked like there was water in them.
Thank fuck for that, she thought as she took a brief look around the pillar. She had no idea what her other options were.
She bent down and opened her satchel, and rooted around for a few tools. She pulled them out along with the extra wire she would use for mule harness efforts. Next, she checked her kit bag for a little case. Oz had no idea what she was planning. He just stayed quiet, awaiting an order.
She took a deep breath.
Molly knew she wasn’t going to have many seconds between lighting the metaphorical fuse and time running out for Joel if she did this.
This was it.
Pulling her dart gun from the holster on her leg, she took two deep breaths to steady herself. Then she took a step out from behind the pillar and shot the dart above the heads of the Sarkian heavies, blowing open the pipe of the sprinkler.
Water gushed out over all four of them, including Joel. Hands tied behind his back, his head had been repeatedly forced into a large tub of water.
“How did you get in here?” a gruff Estarian started demanding through the spray.
The Ogg started barking orders at the other two.
“I’d stay right where you are if you know what’s good for you,” declared Molly. She’d moved near an electrical outlet, and was hoping the other two Estarians she had seen on the video weren’t hiding somewhere around.
“Why, what are you going to do, little girl? Turn the lights on? Scared of the dark, are we?”
“Nope, I’m going to run this wire,” she opened her hand, and the length of the wire dropped down into the puddle of water next to her feet, “and connect it up to the main supply of this building.”
A look of panic spread across their faces. They looked down, realizing they were standing in several millimeters of water.
“Unless you let my friend go,” she added.
“Keep dreaming, sweetheart. You electrocute us, you electrocute him.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that,” she smiled, clearly knowing something they didn’t.
Shit, she hoped she’d calculated this right. Or else Joel was going to kill her…if he survived.
The Ogg wasn’t impressed. He clearly wasn’t used to being threatened or told what to do. He pulled out a gun and trained it on Joel.
“Do that, and your boyfriend gets it. You going to risk me pulling the trigger, when you…Ughhhghgh. ZZZZZ. Bthughjgjksjkshssas.”
Molly connected the wire to the circuit, and all four of them, including Joel, went down. Joel slumped over the tub of water, and stopped convulsing first.
Shit. Shit. Shit…
She waited until the others had stopped moving, and made sure the wire was no longer live. Sprinting towards Joel, she pulled out the tiny kit she had in her bag.
Please, please, pleeeeeeeease, she begged, bargaining with the universe not to let him die.
What are you doing??
Not now, Oz.
She wrenched Joel’s head out of the tub and pulled him back, laying him out on the ground. He was technically dead. And now she was going to have to shock his heart back to life.
Shit! She hoped he was in good health, or else this wasn’t going to work.
“I hope to fuck those muscles of yours aren’t just for show, Meathead.” Molly half pleaded, half bitched at her friend.
She opened the little kit wallet and pulled out a hypodermic needle. It wasn’t designed for this, but hopefully it would go deep enough. She’d only had to do this once before, and then it wasn’t for electrocution. When one of her friends at the University had OD’d, she’d heard from a medic friend that adrenalin worked for a bunch of things to get the heart going again.
By her calculation, she had less than ten seconds left…
She pulled the adrenalin into the needle and tapped it to get rid of air bubbles. Squeezing till liquid came out, she tapped again.
Six seconds…
Okay, here goes…
She felt Joel’s ribs and visualized where the fourth chamber of the heart was.
Three seconds…
BAM. She plunged the needle into his chest and injected the adrenalin.
The needle was still in his chest. Shit. She carefully pulled it back out.
Joel’s eyes opened suddenly, and he yelled.
“WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!”
About twenty seconds later, his scream of horror transitioned into sobbing, as he rolled over into the fetal position.
“Are you going to puke? Last time I did that, the girl puked her guts out.” Molly stood over him, assessing his state and clinically thinking of their next move.
He tried to twist his head to look her in the eye, but failed. “No, I’m not going to puke. I’m going to fucking kill you,” he groaned as he rocked on his side.
She nodded. “Okay, later. Right now we need to get you out of here. Can you stand?”
He agreed, even though he didn’t yet know if it were true. But he was a Marine. He was going to stand. Whatever it took.
He rolled onto his knees, half expecting to see blood. No blood from electrocution, he told himself as he staggered to his feet, Molly took his weight on her shoulders as she slipped under his arm to help.
She was a gem, this girl. And, strangely, stronger than she looked.
“Come on, dickwad. Beers are on me tonight,” she grunted out, trying to be bright in the face of what had just happened.
* * *
A few minutes later, she helped him into the car. He was soaked through to the skin. She tried to get him to peel his shirt off, but he resisted.
Probably just too tired, she hoped. His head lolled as he fell asleep. Putting her seatbelt on, Molly put the car into gear and with Oz’s assistance, navigated out of the hellhole of a parking garage and into the city traffic.
Any chance we’re being followed?
Unlikely. The only camera I can see on the network was the one at the door. Nothing in the parking garage, so they won’t have an image of your identifier.
That’s damn lucky.
Molly contemplated all the hundreds of ways this could have gone sideways. Being able to retrieve Joel so easily was a blessing. And a mistake she was never going to make again. From now on, they’d be way more careful. This wasn’t an exercise in a controlled environment where you could fuck up, hit the showers, and come back tomorrow to try again.
This was life and death.
And things were getting very death-oriented, very damn fast.
Let’s get this lug back to the safe house. He’s going to have one hell of a headache when he wakes up.
“No more apartment for you, big guy,” she told the semi-conscious Marine. “From now on, we’re taking this shit seriously 24/7 and staying safe.”
Molly cursed at herself that she’d let something like this happen. This was her fault—and why she had joined the military. She didn’t want to be responsible for making decisions that would get people killed. The military made those decisions, and she did her best.
Why did she ever think she could deal with this shit and have people be okay?
Her thoughts wandered to the three kidnappers she’d left behind. Without medical attention they would probably die, and though she didn’t feel guilty per se—they had kidnapped her teammate—she still felt a twinge of regret for killing them. It couldn’t have been helped, but this was her first real kill. And yet it felt so remote.
Maybe I just feel bad for not feeling bad?
I have no way to parse the information that I can gather from your system. Or interpret what you just said.
Me neither. I just…it wasn’t until now that I realized what I’d done. Had I thought of it sooner, we might have called emergency services for them.
That would have been unwise. Not only would they be able to identify you, the police would have tracked you down, and then those kidnappers would probably have come after the both of you. Game theory suggests that given you wanted to get away and not have to deal with them again, you made the right call—98.5% probability of success.
Oh. That’s good to know.
Your circuits have settled.
You mean, my emotions. My emotions, Oz. And yes, thank you. That helped.
Oh. That’s good. It wasn’t what I was optimizing for, but I’m glad my analysis could be of assistance.
Molly rolled her eyes. Maybe this was what she sounded like to normal people….
Chapter 6
Mac Kerr’s Office, Health Corp Building, Downtown Uptarlung
Molly stormed in, a hard copy file in her hand. She slammed it on the desk in front of Mac. The cup of mocha on his desk slopped as he jumped back in surprise, bashing his inner leg on the table.
“What’s this?” He looked up at her completely perplexed, resisting the urge to rub his leg and look weak.
“Evidence.” Molly glared at him, staring him down, daring him to play dumb. When he stayed quiet, she continued.
“Evidence that you hired us for this job, that you work for the competition. Oh, and that your real name is Frank O’Rourke, and you’re wanted in the Outer System for murder, accessory after the fact, and human trafficking. My guess is that if we release our intel to the authorities, this place will be swarming with cops in no time.”
Molly glared at him and he noticeably shriveled, shifting backwards in his seat.
“There are things you need to understand about this situation, Ms. Bates” the Estarian began. As he spoke, he found his voice and his posture recovered, little by little.
“This is bigger than you,” he pointed to her and then to himself. “Or me.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that before. And half the time, it’s from some Ogg trying to get me to go back to his place,” she smirked.
Oggs and Estarians were known to like human companionship, as long as they were the ones giving orders and controlling the relationship. They only treated their own as equals. That’s what made this exchange particularly…humiliating for him.
“Tell me, what do you know about the Syndicate?” he asked.
She raised an eyebrow, “Sounds like a seedy nightclub you people like to frequent.”
He paused a moment before continuing as if she hadn’t spoken. “It’s an organization; a very private organization that monitors and controls the interests of some very powerful people in the health care sector. These corporations you’ve been digging around in recently have made a lot of Sarkians very rich. And your poking around has made a large number of them very nervous. And when very rich people get nervous, it becomes a problem.”
Molly had straightened up and folded her arms. Though she had intended to get him to talk, she didn’t think it would have been quite so easy. It seemed like his ego was more important to him than his discretion.
He continued, “The Syndicate has friends all over the place: in the police, in the government, in the military.” He put extra weight on the word “military,” and turned to pull something out of his desk drawer.
Molly drew back a little, completely unprepared if he was pulling out a weapon.
He threw another file onto his desk, open at the page describing Molly’s discharge. He had a glint in his eye.
“A 4077, eh?” It was his turn to smirk. “You know, if I’d have known you were that kind of girl…”
“Shut up!” she snapped. “I’m not. And I would never...”
“Point is, Molly Bates—do you think these health care corporations, with all that money and all that power, wouldn’t have means to make some interfering human go away? Mr. Andus would just need to say the word, and that would be it.”
“Mr. Andus? Who’s he? Did he give the word on Joel?”
“You don’t already know? Wow, you are new to this part of town. Keep going the way you are and you’ll find out eventually, though that would be a very bad thing. He’s the last person you want to meet. Not very understanding when people tread on his toes. And he knows who you are now.”
“Because you told him?” She asked.
“Because I told him,” he confirmed.
The smug look had returned to his lips. This Estarian thinks he’s won this war. Molly considered coming back with a gun, or planting a car bomb for his trip home…but that was just her inner teenage frustration talking. And she’d already put enough people in danger acting on her impulses. She had to be smarter than that.
Smarter than him.
And now smarter than Mr. Andus, whoever the fuck he was.
This battle wasn’t going to be fought here in Mac Kerr’s office. She needed to leave.
“You need to leave,” Kerr announced, mirroring her thoughts. He reached over to pick up the phone. “Or else I’ll have security remove you.”
Molly turned on her heels. Mac Kerr had already been immensely useful. She’d let him think he won, and leave quietly more informed. They had research to start on this so-called Syndicate.
“One more thing, Mr. Kerr,” she turned before walking out of the open door. “We have precautions in place that if anything should happen, this intel is automatically deployed. You had better pray we don’t have an accident.”
Molly left his office and continued out of the building via the front door.
Joel was waiting in the car just down the street. She got in and slammed the car door shut.
“Fuck!” She slapped the dash in front of her.
“What?” asked Joel, genuine concern plastered all over his face.
“I’ve just realized how Oz came up with those names. My fucktard of an ex must have been recording our holocalls as sex tapes.”
Joel shook his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. What went on in there?”
“Oh, we have some work to do if we’re going to survive this and still make an impact in this system. Let’s get back to base and I’ll tell you all about it.”
Joel, stunned and still thinking about the sex tapes, put the car into gear and lifted out of the city. He was still none the wiser about what this strange alliance between them was going to be, but this weird-ass girl had saved his life and given him something to focus on.
Right now, his heart told him this was the right team, even if his brain was telling him that it wasn’t. Fuck it, he was up for whatever trouble she’d gone and stirred up in Mac Kerr’s office just now.
Electrocution or not, he’d have her back.
Mac Kerr’s Office, Health Corp Building, Downtown Uptarlung
Mac straightened himself up behind his desk and stood up. Stretching, he felt a flood of relief. He was getting too old for this shit. He wandered idly over to the window.
Looking out on the cityscape, he considered what had just happened. This wasn’t what he had signed up for. He enjoyed the money–and the feeling of power this game gave him—but this was supposed to be an easy retirement for him. He swore to himself that he was done with the fuckery of his past endeavors. Yet something told him he should probably start taking more security precautions.
Composing himself, he hit up his holo, and selected Salon on his call list. The other end picked up after two rings.
“Elite Style Salon, Elise speaking, how can I help you today, Mr. Kerr?”
“I’d like to speak to the boss, please.” His tone was flat and routine. Yet this wasn’t a request.
“Just one moment.” The call was put on hold, and the chimes of the hold music oscillated through his auditory implant. Fokk he hated that music.
“Mr. Kerr, Mr. Andus for you…”
And with that the line was switched.
“Yes,” Mr. Andus answered on the other end. His voice was elderly but strong. Astute. And brusque. There were only certain conditions under which he could be contacted without dire consequence.
Thankfully for Mac Kerr, this was one of them.
“She came. Just as you suggested, Sir.”
There was silence on the other end, as the gentleman considered the new information.
“And what was her move?” he asked finally.
“She knew only about my past, and that my position at Health Corp was a cover. She threatened to expose me if anything else should happen.”
“And did you make her aware of the severity of the…situation?”
“Yes, Sir. Just as you asked.”
“Good.”
“And their location?”
“We haven’t managed to trace them to a base yet, but I have someone on it as we speak. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear from them.”
“Very good. I will await your call.”
And with that, the line clicked off.
Mac turned back to his desk and sat down. Looking at his holo again, he deactivated the jamming signal he used for just such occasions. He’d been impressed that Ms. Bates had thought to do the same.
Something told him she wasn’t going to be easy to crush, human or not.
Safe house, fifty kilometers west of Uptarlung
His elbows were on the table, “Okay, if we’re going to be living in the same quarters, we need to agree on something.” Joel had been working his way up to talking about this, and there was no way of doing it without having a painfully embarrassing conversation.
“Okay,” said Molly slowly, before taking another bite of pizza. They’d picked it up from the next village rather than have their location compromised by giving their address to their local fast food place.
Joel was still feeling pretty smart about that.
“It’s just that…I, erm…Okay, so there’s no easy way to say this. The sex tapes, and the 4077. I just...I don’t want to have to come in here and find you doing the wild thing with some Estarian.” He slapped a hand down on the table and then pointed it in her direction. “Okay. There. I said it.”
Molly swallowed hard, trying not to choke on her pizza while covering her grin so as not to drop food out of her mouth.
“You’re serious?” She practically hooted with laughter as soon as she had emptied her mouth.
Taking a swig of beer, she turned her head so she could keep her eyes fixed on Joel in order to maximize his discomfort. For someone who was socially inept, Molly had picked up a trick or two along the way.
“So…you think I’m a party girl, do you?” she said finally, regaining her composure but still grinning.
“Erm…I wouldn’t say party girl…” Joel practically stammered. His cheeks were flushing a little, and it wasn’t on account of the two bottles of beer he’d downed before broaching the issue.
“Well, what then?” asked Molly, her face suddenly straight, pretending to be serious.
“Well, I just don’t want to be in that position. And what, with you being newly out of the military, and young, and gorgeous, I know it’s only a matter of time before you start hooking up with civilians.”
Molly stopped with the bottle halfway to her lips, suddenly looking at Joel in a new light. “You think I’m gorgeous?”
Eyes down, he got up from the table to grab another two bottles, taking the tops off with his hands. He placed one on the table in front of Molly and took a swig of the other before sitting back down. Still avoiding eye contact.
“Look, Joel…I’m not that wild. And I have no interest in hooking up. I’m a geek, remember? We just don’t do that kind of thing. And we have a mission now. An important one.” Her teasing voice from before seemed to slide into one that was concerned.
She was letting him off the hook. The girl might make a leader yet, he would think later when he replayed the conversation in his head.
She took another slice of pizza and folded it up on her plate. “Besides, that would be a total breach of security. If I were going to be bringing Estarians back for sex, we may as well have had our damn pizza delivered while we were at it.”
Her eyes twinkled as Joel finally decided to look up. She smiled directly at him, watching for the effect that it might have.
“Well…er…that’s okay, then,” he said gruffly, taking another swig and dropping his gaze back to his pizza again.
How he had gotten himself into this situation, he’d never know.
Chapter 7
Mac Kerr’s Office, Health Corp Building, Downtown Uptarlung
The Estarian was sitting behind his desk when the call came in. He paid the communications device no attention as he answered, “Yes?”
“We lost them, sir.”
Mac ground his teeth, got up from his desk, and swiped across the holo to jam the recording devices in his office.
He was getting tired of this bullshit.
“You had one simple task.” he attempted to keep the irritation out of his voice.
His attempt didn’t work.
“Sir, I know. But they just disappeared.”
“Which direction were they heading?” he asked, feeling a migraine approaching.
“They came out of your building, did a few loops around the town, and then headed west. We suspect their base is out that way somewhere. We’re closing in on them.”
The voice over the holo was trying to sound confident, but Mac had been running ops for some time. He’d survived on his instinct. And this time his instinct was telling him that they were dead in the water with this.
“Okay, bring your team back in. I’ll be in touch.”
This was what you got using Ogg teams for the task. They were all about following orders to a T. He’d need to find someone more creative to put onto this problem.
He walked back to his desk, swiped the holo call off, and closed the jamming patch.
Looking out of his floor-to-ceiling office window, he scanned the city beneath him as if that was going to somehow help him find Molly Bates and her new associate. He watched the streams of cars heading hither and thither on invisible trails. People going about their business. Their very existence and indifference to his problem felt like mockery.
And he didn’t like feeling mocked. Or threatened. Molly Bates may be safe from him for now, but eventually he’d find her.
Then he’d make her pay.
Safe house, fifty kilometers west of Uptarlung
“Hey!” Joel poked his head around the doorframe, then stood in the doorway and reached up to grab the top of the frame, showing off his rippling muscles.
“Hey, yourself,” responded Molly, barely looking up from her archaic handheld holo. She knew she must look like something from out of the old world with her external device, but that wasn’t her fault.
Since Oz the pain-in-the-ass AI had hijacked her military wristband holo, she had little scope to do anything on her own. He had taken up all the storage and processing capacity, and, via her bio-implants, taken up residence in some of her brain too. She would get around to doing something about that as soon as she could, if only to get her onboard holo storage back.
“So, erm…” Joel looked down at his feet and shuffled a little. “I’m going to hit the sack in a few.”
“Kay.” She didn’t look up at all. She was in full geek mode. Joel saw that and smiled.
He tried again.
“I’m glad we’re working together…”
“Me too.”
Realizing he was looking for something more, she looked up briefly. “You did a good job out there, Joel.”
She flushed, embarrassed at her lame-ass words. And not cottoning on to the fact he was trying to have a human conversation with her.
Then it was Joel’s turn to flush. “We make a good team.”
God, he wanted to kick himself. What the fuck was he? A high school kid with a crush? Normally he’d be… well, different. Why was this so hard? He dropped his arms and crossed them over his chest.
“You know…” he started. Molly asked him something at the same time.
“Sorry, you go,” she smiled.
“No, go ahead…” he pointed to her.
“I was going to ask how the search for Andus is going?”
He wanted to roll his eyes. Oh my fucking god, we’re flirting over work stuff. I’ve reached a new low. When did I lose my game? “Oh, yeah. Good. Well, not good. Nothing’s turned up with any of my contacts yet. I take it Oz hasn’t had any luck?”
“Nope. He can only access something if it’s in digital format and connected in some way to the XtraNET. These guys look like they’ve been careful. Andus must be pretty much off-grid.”
“Or using a different name,” volunteered Joel.
“Yes, we’d considered that. If your guys turn anything up, like a second name, or even a strand of DNA, then maybe we’ll have more luck with Oz.”
“Sure, I’ll keep you posted.”
Joel hesitated again, like he was going to say something else.
Molly had gone back to her holo research, very aware that Joel was still standing there but pretending to read her screen anyway.
“Whatcha looking at?” he asked after a moment of indecision.
“Researching possible operations ships. We’re going to have to get off-world soon. Very soon. I don’t think Mac or his evil Syndicate are going to let us just keep interfering. And I want to do lots more interfering. So we need a safe place to operate from.”
Joel frowned, “Wow. That was fast. I didn’t think we’d be leaving so soon.”
Her eyes danced over the data on her screen. “Oz doesn’t think that we’re going to be safe for much longer either, and you know, algorithms never lie.” She had a twinkle in her eye as she gently mocked the situation with her passenger and her own nerdiness.
She continued a moment later, “Not with the Syndicate and everything else that has gone on, and that’s not even taking into account the new cases we have coming in. He’s calculated a bunch of probabilities and scenarios using all that processing power he has. Some scenarios give us a month, but most only a couple of weeks before we’re found and taken out. We need a safe haven where no one will think to look for us.”
“And so we need a ship,” Joel said, starting to follow her logic.
“Exactly.”
Joel’s face lit up a little. “A ship with guns?”
You can take the man out of the military, but you can’t take the love of blowing shit up out of the man, thought Molly. “Preferably. Or if we can find one at the right price, maybe we can retrofit. We’re just looking into options right now.”
“We? You and…”
“Oz.”
“Right. Oz.” Joel took a couple of steps and perched on the foot of the bed next to Molly. “How mad is that? You have an AI tied into your holo. And your brain.”
“Yeah. Mad, or maddening,” agreed Molly.
I heard that!
You hear everything, Dickwad.
“Yeah…I just, I can’t wrap my brain around it.” Joel was still working to come to terms with the idea.
Well, that’s not unexpected.
Get back to your searching, or I will upgrade your name to ass-crack or something similar. And c’mon, cut out the snark. Joel’s a good man, and our only team member.
“Hey, you know what you could help with?” Molly looked up again from her browsing.
Joel smiled over at her. “Anything…”
“We’re going to need a pilot. And a really badass mechanic to keep this ship running. Someone ex-military. With experience. A variety of experiences. And someone who can adapt to the changing nature of our operation as we grow. Know of anyone?”
Joel thought for a moment before answering, “Not offhand, but I can start asking around.”
“That would be amaze-balls. Thanks, Joel.” Molly smiled encouragement, with a glimmer of flirtation.
Joel just looked at her, a little stunned. She totally knew the effect that was having on him. Fokk, this girl is ruthless.
He tried to slow his heartbeat back to normal, but it was so hard. He should go ahead and leave. Being here in her bedroom, his thoughts just got mangled. This was something he was going to have to manage carefully.
Then reality hit him through the onslaught of his mind’s hormonal shields: “How are we going to pay for all this?”
She cocked her head, “You mean the ship and the new team members? I have a plan.”
“Uh huh. Care to share with the rest of the group?” he replied as he pointed to himself.
She smirked, “It’s a very complicated plan, using the latest in AI research and, trust me, more than a shitload of computational power. Are you ready for this?”
He nodded, so she answered. “We’re just going to take on bigger clients,” she admitted.
Joel looked at her a moment, trying to figure out which part of that was true, and which part of that answer was false. He came to the conclusion the first part was her idea of a joke.
“Just like that then?” he harrumphed.
“Just like that,” she agreed.
Joel was stymied. Her logic was clear, simple, and pretty damned direct. Often he couldn’t tell if she was autistic or a genius.
It was like she had no anxiety around taking on a challenge and taking on even larger clients would be a challenge. She just did what needed to be done. It was always the same on operations, back when they were running the same missions. Sometimes he really envied that ability she had.
Other times it was damned annoying, if not intimidating.
“Okay, I’m going to hit the sack then.” He stood up and looked back at her.
“Night, Joel.” She told him.
“Night, Molly.”
He headed out of her room, and into his own. Closing his door behind him, he leaned against it. “Goddamn it, Joel. You’re such a drulludel” He cursed himself, gently banging his head so as not to make too much sound.
* * *
The safe house was all quiet, and Joel’s light had been off for hours. Molly was still filtering through ship specs.
As much as she’d always enjoyed her solitude in these wee hours, she was enjoying having Oz as company. Apart from anything, he was making the work go much faster. It was fun to cut out some of the mundane searching and just tell him what she needed.
Maybe she just liked the feeling of making progress more quickly, and it had nothing to do with the company. She’d always considered herself something of a lone wolf, so maybe it really was the faster progress that made the difference.
She set another search running, having adjusted the criteria to include the newer core fusion system and an operating system that was programmed in Estarian, rather than Ogg basic language, so she and the crew could actually understand the labels and directions on the ship. She hated not knowing which chain to pull for help and which to flush the toilet with when she traveled public air transport in Ogg.
She hit search, and then made a note to make sure that she procured other items they would need once they got to a base off-world. Furniture. Weapons. This was turning into one mammoth project. She was starting to gain a new appreciation for all the administration the military did.
She thought for a second she heard a noise somewhere in the house. She wasn’t sure, though. It might have been something in her auditory implant as she set the note to save. Plus she was tired.
She paused and waited, listening.
There was a noise again, like someone moved something in the kitchen. Stiffly, she put the holo to one side of the bed and wiggled off the mattress. She’d been sitting for too long with her legs crossed; she needed to give the blood time to run.
Picking up her weapon off the makeshift bed stand, she started creeping towards the bedroom door. She noticed she was only in her underwear and a t-shirt.
Oh well, maybe I can distract the intruder, she thought glibly, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at herself.
She had been expecting Mac to send someone after her. It had been a few days since her appearance in his office, and she had threatened him. She knew at the time it was probably a bad idea, but if she hadn’t riled him up, they wouldn’t know about the Syndicate or his involvement in the political landscape of fuckery that was the Central Systems’ way of governing.
She wondered how they’d been traced, though. They took proper counter-measures whenever they went out, and she was pretty sure they hadn’t been followed when she rescued Joel. Of course, it may just have taken his team of assholes this long to be able to crunch through the shit-ton of traffic cam data to track them…but still.
She made her way down the corridor to the kitchen door.
Her heart was in her mouth. She was a techie. A lab rat. She wasn’t cut out for hand-to-hand or any other kind of combat, apart from under the supervision of real soldiers like Joel. Or in a controlled environment, like the dojo.
Her arms and legs went weak with the adrenalin, as they had every time she had to fight in training. Fokk.
Something toppled. Like a bottle. There was definitely someone moving in there. She rounded the doorframe and scanned the kitchen, expecting to have some dark figure jump her at any second.
Nothing.
No movement. No figure. Nothing.
Then she caught something jumping from the counter onto the floor, and the sound of something scampering.
Shit. This better not be something out of those archived alien films Grandpa would watch with her. Her heart was beating out of her chest.
It seemed Joel had heard something and was moving down the corridor to join her.
She was relieved.
She was all for the independent female, and the every-nerd-for-herself movement, but there was something comforting about a soldier having her back. She turned back to the door and caught his eye, motioning in the direction of the movement. He had his weapon drawn too, and it followed the line of sight where she was indicating.
He mouthed “on three”. And then…
“One. Two. THREE!”
He slammed the lights on and stormed the kitchen table, expecting to find a Sarkian of one race or another crouched under the table.
What he found, he took a second to register.
Molly watched as his expression turned from serious, “I’m going to blow the shit out of you,” to shock and surprise, and then to “I can’t believe we were so stupid.”
Molly rounded the table and stooped down to see what he was looking at.
There, staring back up at them, was probably the most adorable and weird-looking kitty on the planet, if not the system.
Well, “kitty” isn’t exactly the description she could use to any of the Sarkians. A “kitty” was a human’s version of a cat. From the Pan galaxy. This was the feline companion of the Estarian variety. They were furless, with effulgent deep purple skin and bright orange eyes, and long associated with being able to cross over into the next realm with their owners who were destined for the next type of existence.
Nope, technically this was a sphinx.
His eerily bright orange eyes almost seemed to query them, “What’s all the fuss about?”
Molly breathed a sigh of relief. A sigh that, mid-breath, turned into laughter. Joel found himself chuckling along with her.
All their military training, stacked against…a kitty.
A sphinx, Oz corrected in her thoughts.
Molly ignored him.
“Aww…he’s so sweet,” cooed Molly. She fell to her knees and reached under the table to pick him up. The sphinx didn’t resist. Instead, he let her pull him out from under the table, and then just curled up against her as she cuddled him close and stood up.
“Yeah. How do you know it’s a boy?” Joel asked, putting the safety back on his weapon and stuffing it in the back of his sweatpants.
Molly laughed. “I didn’t, but…” she lifted the sphinx a little higher and turned it over. “Yep, definitely a boy kitty.” She grinned at Joel. Joel’s big hands were petting him as Molly held the little guy in her arms. She felt Joel close to her and was still comforted by the presence of her teammate, who had demonstrated how he had her back even in the middle of the night against a very dangerous feline.
The sphinx turned around and nipped at Joel’s hand.
He snatched his hand back. “Hey!” he said playfully.
“It’s okay. They do that. He’s probably hungry. Take him…I’ll fix him some food from our leftovers.” She handed the purring purple creature over to Joel and turned to the fridge.
Joel looked awkward at first. All his training and muscle and people skills were worth nothing when it came to dealing with something so small, cute and eerily mystical.
“Always thought these creatures were a little…off. I mean, look at him. It’s like he can read my thoughts.” He still held the sphinx, a little uncomfortably, like he was trying to keep him away from his body.
Molly had one hand on the fridge door and was rummaging through the contents. She turned and looked at him, one eyebrow raised.
He shook his head. “Don’t look at me like that! Seriously. It’s like it’s got the body of a sphinx, but the mind of a wise old grownup. It’s creepy.”
“Anyone ever told you that you have an overactive imagination?” Molly remarked, gently mocking him with her signature straight face.
The sphinx had settled into his arms and was purring again. Joel seemed to relax a little, and let him lean against his chest. Molly pulled a dish of food out of the fridge, and set about separating out a small portion.
“So, we feed him and then what? Can we keep him?” He wondered if he sounded more like a boyfriend than an operations manager at that moment.
Molly seemed to miss that, though.
“Well, sphinxes are really rare, from what I’ve read. I can’t imagine he hasn’t got an owner. I’ll bet they’re pretty expensive, too. We should check with the landlady, see if she knows who he belongs to.”
“Okay, I’ll handle that in the morning.” Yup, that sounded more like an operations manager, he reassured himself.
Molly put the bowl of food on the floor for the sphinx and indicated to Joel to let him down. Joel seemed reluctant for a second, and then awkwardly tried to put him down on the tiles. Halfway down the sphinx leapt from his arms and deftly plunked down on all fours, heading straight for the food.
“Damn, he must be hungry,” murmured Joel, now under the natural spell that small, cute creatures put their people under.
Molly, having fed the creature and neutralized the threat of the “intruder,” had now lost interest. She started back towards the door. “I’m heading back to bed, then.”
“What about a name?” Joel asked.
“Huh?” She took a beat, and then realized he was talking about the sphinx. “Well, he might already have a name…”
Joel nodded. “Right. Okay. I’ll find out. Night.”
“Night,” Molly casually waved backwards through a yawn, as she disappeared up the short corridor to her room.
Joel stood and watched the sphinx eat for a few moments, then checked the doors and windows before retiring himself.
Wonder how he got in? he thought idly to himself, turning to check the doors and windows of the kitchen another time. Having examined all possible entrances and exits and confirmed the house was secure, he gave up.
Must have come in when we had the doors open during the day, he concluded.
Switching off the kitchen light, he headed back to bed. Molly’s light was still on. He shook his head.
That girl kept bizarre hours…
Chapter 8
Spire, Capital of Estaria. Two hundred kilometers north of Uptarlung
“Rassgat! Pick up the holo, Dewitt.” Garet was in trouble. His only chance at survival was to convince Dewitt he was faithful.
He flagged down a cab and forced his way into the backseat, looking over his shoulder and struggling with his brown leather briefcase.
“The Mandeli Hotel. Fast.” He barked his order at the cabbie. The cabbie didn’t acknowledge him verbally. He just pulled quietly out into the traffic, lifted off two seconds later when it was safe to pull out into a faster lane to get across town.
The traffic below was intense. Garet craned his neck to look down through the window to see if he was being followed.
If he couldn’t convince Dewitt he had no intention of using the files, he was going to need a Plan B which involved disappearing. And for that, he needed a pro.
Just then he saw another car pull up and out of the traffic below. It was black, with blacked out windows. They’d found him.
Shit!
“I’ll pay you a hundred credits if you can get me to the hotel before that black vehicle catches us.”
The cabbie spoke for the first time. “You got it.” He stepped on the accelerator, and the car heaved forward.
After so much bad luck in the last few days, Garet had finally, if ignorantly, struck gold by jumping into Sean Royale’s cab.
Not only had Sean been with the service for forty years, but he was discharged after being awarded the Seal. No one outside his unit would have known what that meant, but for the men, women, and others he’d worked with, it was the highest commendation one could earn.
And he had been itching for a bit of action ever since he retired two years, four months and fifteen days ago.
Not that he was counting.
The cab pulled away at near warp speed. Damn, this cab has been kitted out, Garet realized. He scrambled in his bag for the hundred credits and put them in a pile on the seat next to him.
He was going to need an extraction plan. He pulled up another contact on his holo and dialed.
“Hi, yes, its Garet Beaufort. I need your help. I hear you’re still in the business?”
There was a pause while he listened. He saw the cabbie watching him in his rearview mirror.
“It’s okay, I can pay. I need an extraction. I’m heading to the Mandeli Hotel, but I’m being pursued by two of Dewitt’s goons. Yeah, the guy I work for. I’ve got sensitive intel. He suspects I’m going to use it.”
Another pause.
“Shit, no. Of course I wasn’t blackmailing him; that would be fucking stupid.”
He paused.
“Okay. Hurry. They almost caught up with me in the parking lot after a meeting. I can’t even go home; he knows where I live. I’m toast if you don’t get here in time.”
There was quiet while he listened in his auditory implant. The cabbie had turned his attention back to driving, but Garet suspected he was still eavesdropping.
“Okay. I’ll message you my room number once I’m checked in. Hurry!” A hint of his true desperation involuntarily seeped into his voice.
He poked at the holo, and tried to sit back and catch his breath.
“Bad day?” the driver looked at him again in his rearview mirror.
“Like you wouldn’t believe.” Garet was used to being in control. Being respected. He felt exposed; a cabbie knew he was in trouble.
“Listen, when I drop you, I’ll drop you on the corner and then you can walk into the hotel. I’ll drive another couple of blocks and pretend like I’m letting you off at a different hotel. Whoever is following you will think that you’re staying somewhere else. Might buy you a bit more time.”
“Wow. Thank you!” Garet felt slightly embarrassed by the kindness of a stranger. And amazed that a cab driver would even think about that…
“Do you get a lot of people who are being followed in your taxi?” Garet’s curiosity was written across his face as his brow unfurrowed a little.
“No. But you look like you’re in trouble, and I’ve had a lot of experience dealing with trouble. Ex-military.” Sean nodded at the picture stuck between the vents of his dashboard. “Miss it, y’know?”
Garet leaned forward, glad of the distraction. The photo he could see was of the driver and a team of other smiling men in full cam gear standing in front of a space bird.
“Space Marine, right?”
“That’s right. All my life, from when I was old enough to join up.”
“Very cool. Well...er… thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Moments later they pulled up on the corner of Rofabaer and Baejarhais.
“The hotel is just one hundred yards up there,” Sean pointed at where Garet needed to go.
Garet gathered his gear and started to get out of the cab. He handed the hundred credits, plus the fee, to the cabbie. “I’m sure lucky I hopped into your cab. And I’m grateful. Thank you.”
“Anytime. In fact, here are my digits.” The cabbie swiped at his holo and bounced it against Garet’s wrist holo, transferring his contact details.
“Call if you need any further help. Civilian life is peaceful, but when you’ve lived your whole life on the edge, it’s impossible not to crave a bit more adventure now and again.” He winked.
“Thank you. I will, if I survive this!” Garet smiled sardonically, as he hauled ass onto the street. Leaving the protection of the cab and Sean Royale behind, he suddenly felt very exposed.
The cab pulled away and disappeared into traffic, followed moments later by the dark car with blacked out windows.
Garet kept his head down as he watched out of the corner of his eye. They drove right past. It worked!
He scurried towards the hotel and disappeared inside as quickly as he could.
Dewitt Residence, Spire
Senate Official William Dewitt saw the call flash up on his holo. He clocked Garet’s name, and guessed that he was calling to try and make some kind of bargain.
It was too late for that.
The betrayal was done. Now the only question was how quickly he could contain it.
Dewitt swiped to reject the call. It would be taken care of soon enough.
He turned his attention back to the speech he had been working on. It still wasn’t quite right. Taking out a whole paragraph, he reread that section. Yes, that gave it the kind of philanthropic feel he was after. He was in full preparation mode. Years of hard work and ass-kissing were finally coming together.
Having a thought, he got up from the desk in his home office and padded through to his bedroom. He went straight to his closet and found his tie rack.
Blue. Blue. Blue, blue, blue…
He flicked through numerous blue ties until he found the one he was searching for. There it was. His lucky tie. Blue would also allow him to portray a sense of security and trustworthiness. That’s what the people needed to feel when they supported this bill.
His holo flashed up with another call. It was Henrik, as he called his two goons Henry and Erik. He accepted the call. It should be good news. He placed the blue tie on the bed and started flicking through his shirts.
“We’re in pursuit downtown. He’s probably going to try and hole up somewhere. We’re closing in.”
“Excellent. Let me know when it is done.” He clicked off the call, and refocused his attention on his wardrobe.
Satisfied for the moment, he strode back through to his office and sat down at his desk. Taking a sip of mocha, he found he was quite happy with the way his life was these days. Power. Respect. And money, the kind that bought good mocha and comfortable surroundings. He certainly enjoyed owning this house in one of the most expensive districts in the Central Systems jurisdiction.
He just needed to get this part of the speech nailed, in case Andus asked to see it. Then he would make that call and deliver the good news about the loose end that was being wrapped up.
His gray eyes dropped back down to the holo screen to continue working on his speech.
Parade Ground, Nefertiti Military Base, Central Systems
“Hello, dear.”
“Mom?”
Molly felt dizzy, and the light in her eyes was so bright. She squinted, trying to see her mom.
“We came to see you.”
Molly watched as her mom and dad approached her from the stands. She was at a parade. Her graduation parade. Cadets and parents made a crowd and a hubbub of activity all around her.
Part of her felt at peace, yet in the pit of her stomach, she felt bad. Like she had done something terrible.
She was in full military gear, having just graduated from basic training. She was going to be a scientist for the military. But she didn’t feel proud. She felt embarrassed.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?” her mom’s voice came through beyond the light in her eyes. She shielded her eyes a little and she could see her mom more clearly. Molly’s dad was next to her. Just as he always was.
She could smell her mom’s best perfume. Her father was wearing one of his posh suits; one that he only pulled out for weddings and other special occasions. Mom was even wearing lipstick, which looked odd on her. Kind of out of place.
“I just feel so wrong, mom. I shouldn’t be here.”
“But, sweetie, this is what you wanted.” Her mom cooed as if Molly were just being silly.
“We want you to know we’re very proud of you,” her dad leaned in and told her.
Molly looked up at her father. She knew he meant it, but deep down she wasn’t proud of herself. She felt so ashamed.
Her mother nudged her father.
The Sark beat down on them, and the crowd was overwhelming. Molly was getting uncomfortable in her uniform, all layers and tassels. It was like graduating from college. She felt stupid and unattractive.
“We just want you to know how very proud of you we are,” her mom was saying once more.
All Molly could see was the envelope that her father was pulling out of his jacket pocket to hand over to her.
A blood spot appeared on it.
She looked up to see where it had come from.
Her mother smiled her best public smile; the one she would use at school events when she was trying to convince everyone how proud she was of her daughter, and by extension, what a good mother she was.
As Molly watched the envelope, the blood spot got bigger and bigger as it soaked through the paper, until the whole thing was covered in blood.
Panic rose up in Molly’s stomach.
Her father was oblivious to the blood. He was asking Molly, “Aren’t you going to take it? Don’t you want it?”
Molly couldn’t move. Paralyzed and unable to even speak or scream, she felt her heart beating out of her chest.
* * *
Molly awoke, hyperventilating—the brightness of the parade and crowd replaced by the darkness of her room in the safe house. It was cold and damp and she was alone, even though she could feel the lingering sense of the crowd and her parents.
Waiting for her heart rate to return to normal, she noticed the adrenalin—how it made her anxious and sick all at the same time. The image of the blood, and the feelings of shame and inadequacy seemed to pulse through her system.
She wiped at her face, and let her head hang in her hands a moment. She felt wet.
She realized she was drenched in sweat.
Her heart hurt.
Her parents had tried to help her.
They hadn’t been at the parade, but they had sent her a video message afterwards explaining everything. Molly knew they meant well. They tracked her down, despite her best efforts to disappear. But if she wasn’t ready to forgive herself, then there was no way she would let anyone else.
She lay back down and tried to calm herself. Trying to breathe, she waited for the awful sensations to pass.
She felt like shit.
Maybe one day she would be ready, but today was not that day.
Private limo, somewhere on the F338, near Spire
Dewitt’s name flashed up on Andus’ holo. Mr. Luc Andus held up one finger to silence the woman on his left as he took the call.
“Is it done?” he asked, his voice cold and quiet.
“My people were in pursuit about twenty minutes ago. If it isn’t done yet, it will be very soon.”
“I have trusted you to take care of this. There are bigger things that need our full attention.”
“Yes, sir. I thought you would be pleased to know it is in hand. The speech is also ready for review. I thought you might appreciate the option of having it looked over by one of your people. We agreed it was important for this address to set the right tone, and…er, emphasis.” He said the last word as if it were code.
Andus nodded, even though the caller wouldn’t see. “For the bill that is about to be passed. I’m assured we have adequate support, but, yes, public perception is important. Send it to my holo, if you would.”
“Very good, sir. Will that be all?”
“Yes, thank you.”
The holo disconnected.
Andus drew in a deep breath. He was long enough in the tooth to know when something was going to shit, and this latest disturbance with one of Dewitt’s employees only went to confirm what his gut had already told him.
“Was that him?” asked the stunningly manicured woman sitting next to him.
“Yes, our former friend, Mr. Dewitt.”
“Former friend?” she clarified, as if she hadn’t already guessed what was in play. Jessica Newld was a highly astute political genius. She could predict the way the winds of favor would blow several steps out. Her father had taught her chess as a metaphor for watching the bigger picture…and the smaller details.
“Yes, former,” Andus confirmed. “It seems his loyalties have swayed. He has something that might expose us, and I would feel more comfortable if this were no longer in the equation.”
Jessica glanced over at him, humor glimmering in her eyes. “Am I to take this to mean that you are going to remove anyone who has a little dirt on you?”
His cold gray eyes met hers.
“Should I be worried?” she grinned brightly.
He pulled his attention away and looked straight ahead through the glass panel between them and the driver, fixing his eyes on the road.
Jessica, sensing her playfulness wasn’t being well received, tried again. “This is the incident with the server being hacked?” She used her boardroom voice.
“Not hacked, Ms. Newld; just downloaded. Casually. By two employees.”
She knew this. She’d read the encrypted memo. But as Daddy had taught her, it was important to get people to say these things out loud. To vocalize their discontent. It made them more likely to follow through on their feelings, as they would subconsciously seek to avoid cognitive dissonance. That meant they wanted to avoid making themselves liars, he had told her. It also engendered trust. At least in male Sarkians.
“Oh, dear. But this happens. Surely you don’t suspect something more sinister?”
Andus suspected she was playing dumb. He knew her act well, having helped her rise to power over the span of her relatively short career. He could almost predict where she would let her accent lilt, in perfect placement to engender just enough softness to appear harmless.
He knew better, though. She was like a black widow once she locked onto a target. Not unlike himself in many ways.
Still, he didn’t mind humoring her. On some level he knew he should engage in social pleasantries. “Well, the information that was stolen would expose us all. You, me, and our trusted friends. The only reason to have been keeping that kind of intelligence would be to provide proof, either to leverage us, or to hand over to authorities.”
Jessica’s face fell as she began to feign realization. “He was keeping it to use against us…”
Andus nodded solemnly.
“By my ancestors, where is the trust anymore?!” Her new pretend outrage was evident across her perfectly made up face. Her eyes flashed with the kind of annoyance brought about only by a lifetime of entitlement—and practice.
She shifted in her seat to look out of the window.
Safe house, fifty kilometers west of Uptarlung
Molly ambled into the kitchen, drawn by the smell of pancakes and mocha. The sphinx had spent the rest of the night on Molly’s bed, snuggled up against her legs. Now, following her to the kitchen, it seemed he’d found his new mommy.
I wonder how long it’s going to take him to realize that I’m about as maternal as a rhesus monkey reared for the lab? mused Molly.
Oz didn’t understand the reference, and remained unengaged.
Probably working on something busy and important.
“…yes. Yes. I understand. We’ll be there as soon as we can. It’s a two-hour ride, and we will need to grab our gear. Hang tight.”
Joel hung up on his holo.
“Calls before breakfast?” Molly queried with raised eyebrows. She broke off a piece of pancake from a plate of food Joel had already laid out for her.
“We got ourselves a case. An urgent one. Extraction, over in Spire.”
He turned off the heat under the protein cubes he had been frying.
“What’s the story?” Molly asked, pouring herself half a mug of mocha. It was probably more than what she had time for by the sounds of it, but decided she would drink whatever she could get down while Joel quickly briefed her.
“Guy came to me shortly after the Health Corp case broke on the news. Said he would need our services, but that he needed to get his ducks in a row. I told him to call when he was ready.”
He paused, eyebrows raised, staring down at Molly. Molly was slurping her mocha, but stopped when she realized it was interrupting him.
Joel continued.
“Well, he’s ready now. Apparently his employer, a high-level politician, knows he’s been stealing files that are incriminating to the nth degree. He swears he didn’t intend to use them or to blackmail him, but there’s no knowing for sure. He could be a dirtbag. But then, he could just be a guy who has accidentally gotten tied up in some bad shit that is going down.”
“Which do you think he is?” Molly tilted her head at him, clinically curious as to how Joel would make such an assessment.
“Either. Both. I don’t know. But he’s offering us ten thousand credits to extract him from a hotel in Spire. It seems he’s being tracked by the politician’s heavies. His life is in danger. I think we can help.”
“Well, Ansans Ari, I’m in. What are we doing, standing around making breakfast? We have a life to save!” She sounded irritated as she snapped into operations mode.
They’d been taking things easy because they didn’t have a case, but now it was urgent. And their asses weren’t moving already.
Joel watched her leave, dazed by the sudden activity and distracted by the tank top she had already started taking off as she disappeared out of the door.
He shook the thought from his head. Gear. I need to assemble gear for an attraction. Damn it—an extraction. EX-traction.
Chapter 9
Fourteen minutes later they were in the car steaming towards Spire slightly above the speed limit. Heck, the last thing they wanted was to get pulled over, as Oz had logically pointed out.
Oz had also suggested that maybe Joel needed to adapt to the civilian environment if he was going to survive future missions. Molly thought it best to not communicate that to him right now though.
Might I make a suggestion?
You mean another one?
Molly continued with her weapons check and her mental checklist, making sure they had everything they would need to go into a potentially hostile extraction.
If you allow me to hook into the car’s system, I will be able to look after it and bring it to whichever exit would be most useful to you.
Sounds like a plan. Actually, you know, Oz, it’s like having another team member on our side. That’s a great idea.
Good. Accessing now. I can also optimize our route and driving experience to get us there faster.
Make it so…
“Hey! What the fokk…!” Joel’s hands started agitating, as if he were fighting with the steering wheel.
The steering wheel was clearly winning.
“Oh, shit. Sorry, Joel.” Molly realized what was happening.
“This is you?” he jerked a look over at her.
Molly couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah. Well, it’s Oz. He’s…erm…taking over the driving, I guess. He’ll man the getaway too.”
He flung a hand up, “A little heads up would go a long way. Hell! That could have been a mechanical error, or a busted inner core, or…anything! For fuck’s sake!”
Joel was clearly more rattled than he would have been with an actual problem. But then, an actual problem he would know how to fix.
“Touchy, eh? Hope you don’t lose your shit if things go sideways in a real crisis,” Molly teased, seeing if she might get a reaction.
Recovering himself, Joel took his feet from the pedals and sat awkwardly in the driver’s seat, watching the car drive itself.
Or, rather, watched his task being usurped by a glorified Tamagotchi.
She continued, “I didn’t think he was going to take over right away. He just asked about access.”
“Sounds like your version of an apology,” he grumped, noticing her attempt at the people relations thing.
“Don’t get too used to it, dickwad. I just need you on your game.” She looked over to him and smiled before changing the subject and attempting to be professional again. “Which hotel did you say our package is in?”
“Mandeli. No room number yet. He was in the cab en route.”
“That’s okay, Oz can find that, and the floor plans, too.”
Room 410.
Bloody hell that was fast!
We aim to please.
And what’s with your snappy repartee all of a sudden? What have you been using to teach yourself integrated language?
I found a bunch of archived shows in your cloud storage. I’ve been reviewing some of the video files in the hours when you have been asleep or boring.
Boring? I’m never boring! You take that back, you jumped-up subroutine.
You are when you’re doing your thinking thing. You kick me out of all the capacity, and I can barely read anything you’re doing. So I’ve found a way of keeping myself amused.
Well, bully for you…
“Room 410. And we can take either the front entrance, or breach a fire exit on the fourth floor. Driver’s choice.”
I’d recommend the front door. That way, you won’t be causing criminal damage or breaking and entering.
“Sorry, Oz, when I said driver, I meant Joel.”
But I’m driving.
“Yes, but Joel was the driver until you took over.”
Besides, she continued privately to Oz…he needs to be able to make some decisions in this, especially since you just startled the crap out of him, and stole the most testosterone-coveted job in the world from him.
Touché.
“Joel?”
“Still weird hearing only half the conversation.” He was checking each of his weapons in turn, now in full ops mode. She knew that face.
He answered her, “I’d say fourth floor breach. We can be in and out without endangering anyone else, blowing our cover, or getting caught on camera. Plus, time is of the essence. We have no idea whether he was able to shake those goons. He could already be dead, for all we know.”
“At least we know he checked in now,” added Molly, engrossed in the floor plans.
“True. Lemme message him.” Joel holstered the sidearm that he’d been checking and pulled up his holo.
May I raise a point?
Sure.
Well, you are both carrying weapons that can kill, is that correct?
That’s right. We’re trained and licensed, and we are potentially walking into a situation where criminals are likely to try and take us out if we prevent them from carrying out the hit on our client.
Right. Except, point of law—you’re also criminals. You’re no longer protected by the legal entity of the military, and you’ve already killed three people since you’ve been out of the service. Is carrying weapons wise?
Hell yes, it is. I’m not going in there with no way of defending myself.
Right, but… Oz paused, processing.
Molly felt a little unnerved.
Are you thinking? YOU ARE, AREN’T YOU? You’re changing tack with me!
She’d seen that happen on many a man’s face before now, and now she could feel it in her circuits. (His circuits. My neurology, she corrected herself.)
She knew exactly what was going on.
Molly was shocked, if not a little pissed off. You’re adapting to my reasoning in order to manipulate me into doing what you suggest!
I was not. I was processing what you said in order to come up with a more agreeable solution.
You’re HANDLING me!
I was just going to suggest setting your weapons to stun, rather than kill.
Molly stopped.
She stopped thinking. Stopped moving. She just stopped.
Shit.
The damned twisted-bit-sentient-parameter-laden subroutine was right.
She spoke. “Joel. Weapons to stun. No need to add to our post-military body count.”
Molly felt a funny feeling in her brain. Like humor, vibrating.
You’re fucking kidding me. You’re laughing? And what’s more, you’re laughing AT me!
Yes, ma’am. I’m laughing. That has got to be the funniest thing I’ve ever seen you do!
Talk about fucking machine humor. It’s not even funny.
She felt the vibration intensify. It felt like her teeth were itching. Fokk, if this robot had a body she’d slap him sideways right about now.
“Alright. Looks like we’re here.” Joel was oblivious to the exchange and had his game face on, ready to breach and retrieve his client.
Molly composed herself, and willed Oz to do the same.
“Oz, if you could…” Joel began.
Oz was already pulling off into a side street parallel to the hotel. Navigating through the next alley, he approached their building at a hover, and then took it up from two stories to four. Moments later, Joel was clambering onto the fire exit on the fourth floor.
“Our guy should be two rooms down on the right,” said Molly over the sound of the car and the hum of the city.
“Roger that.” Joel was already working on opening the door from the outside. He slipped a metal tool down the side of the door and sheared off the bolt. The door swung open, and Joel stepped deftly around the frame and into the corridor.
Molly followed suit.
Hotel Mandeli, downtown Spire
“Really not my fault we went to the wrong hotel, Erik.” The Ogg glanced irritably sideways at his partner, as he opened the door to the hotel lobby. Henry stepped through.
“You were the one who was meant to be watching the cab and navigating. You try watching traffic and doing everything else all at once!” Erik attempted to defend himself to his partner, Henry.
“When are you going to stop blaming everything on everyone else and take some responsibility for the results in your life?” Henry was a fan of self-help. What this meant, in essence, was that he spent a big chunk of time trying to self-help the shit out of Erik.
“When are you going to stop talking like fokking Rony Tobbins, Henry?”
“When you start acting like a helvítis grownup, my dear he-friend.” Henry waved his hand gracefully in front of Erik’s face, and then turned and continued walking—well, strutting—towards the reception desk.
Erik watched Henry’s hips swaying in front of him, but was still irritated. “Skoffin! This is the last time I take a job with you. After this, that’s it. No more, Henry. You’ll be on your own. Then see how you like it.”
The two Oggs cut their individual swaths through the foyer of guests and travelers to arrive at the reception desk.
“Let me do the talking,” Erik told Henry dismissively.
Henry stood a foot behind him and repeated his words soundlessly, grimacing. Crossing his arms, he waited for Erik to fuck it up, causing them have to shoot someone to get the information they needed.
“Hi, there…Jaswant.” Erik leaned on the desk, beaming his best fake smile at the receptionist. His eyes lingered on her name badge.
“Good morning, sir. Checking in?” Jaswant looked up politely and professionally.
“No, but I’m here to see a friend. His name is Garet Beaufort. Which room is he in, please?”
Henry, still a few paces back from the desk, rolled his eyes.
“I’m afraid we can’t give out our guests’ room numbers. Would you like me to call him for you?” Jaswant was used to this. Busy, demanding businessmen were in and out of this establishment, and there was one thing they all had in common: they thought the two inner planets revolved around them, rather than the Sark.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist.” Erik pulled his gun from its holster and laid it on the counter. Jaswant’s eyes widened, her pupils dilating as she realized the threat in front of her. Erik took his hand from the gun, demonstrating confidence that even if she made a grab for it, he would still have the power.
“Here we go…” intoned Henry under his breath, cocking one hip to the side, ready for the carnage that was about to unfold.
Jaswant was still looking at the gun in fear.
Henry decided to interrupt. “Erik, you’ve clearly scared her. Now she can’t do anything. You’re such a blunt instru—”
“Shut up, Henry. I’ve got this,” he snapped over his shoulder.
“Jaswant, I. Just. Want. You. to look up Beaufort’s room number on the holo for me. Please.” He smirked at his own joke.
Henry rolled his eyes again and huffed a dramatic sigh.
Jaswant took every ounce of focus she could muster, and pulled her attention away from the gun, composing herself just enough to poke at a few keys on the holo screen.
“Room 410,” she said, almost absentmindedly, her attention back on the gun sitting on the countertop.
Erik grabbed the pistol and turned to leave, Henry trotting after him. They headed straight for the elevators. No point in wearing ourselves out on the stairs, thought Erik as he pressed the button, feeling a little guilty about his expanding midriff. Plenty of time for exercise on his day off, he thought casually.
Back at the desk Jaswant’s colleagues were consoling her and picking up the phone to call the police and hotel security.
* * *
Molly, hotel security has been called. There was an incident at the front desk ten seconds ago. Two Oggs in gray atmosuits are on their way up to room 410.
Thanks, Oz.
“Joel,” Molly called out from the fire escape as she clambered into the dimly lit corridor.
Joel had already disappeared into the hotel room with their package. Fucking hell… thought Molly, as she practically ran to the room.
She smacked the open door and yelled into the room as she turned her head to scan down the hall. “We’ve got to move. Two Oggs are on their way up. They’ll be here any second!”
Joel grabbed Garet’s briefcase and yelled to Garet over his shoulder. “Come on dammit, we have a car waiting. Move it or they are going to shoot your ass!”
Molly scanned the hallway for the threat as Joel drew his weapon and grabbed a somewhat bewildered Garet by the upper arm. The corridor was empty, but she could sense there was movement out of their view by the elevators.
“Too late,” she reported, quickly pulling out her own weapon. “They’re here.”
She stepped into the doorway, her gun ready to fire. A second later the two Oggs appeared around the corner.
She fired.
Taken by surprise, the two Oggs scuttled back and drew their weapons to return fire.
Molly ducked back and regrouped to get some more shots in. She listened for their firing pattern.
Joel snapped into crisis management. He interrupted, pulling her arm to get her attention. “There are two of them. We need to rethink this.”
The onslaught of rounds made a ruckus as they whistled past the door and hit walls randomly.
The second time, he yanked Molly from the doorway. “Get Garet away from the door and keep him safe.” His instructions were calm and firm. He poked his head around the doorframe and the firing started up again.
Down the corridor Henry and Erik were embroiled in their own situation management.
The two Oggs were clearly not used to resistance. Their change in demeanor when they rounded that corner told Molly everything she needed to know. Joel was going to take these wannabes out in no time.
“Oh, sweet religious figures from history. You always have to cause a standoff, Erik,” Henry complained under his breath as the two poked their heads back around the corner, firing without even looking.
Erik turned his head back to him. “Not like you’re much help!” he muttered, his eyes now completely off his target.
“Well, maybe we need to think about what a standoff gives you, huh?” Henry’s frustration was beginning to show in his cheeks. “Maybe it’s the attention, hey? You ever think of that? Maybe that’s the way you get the attention you crave?”
Erik stopped firing and pointed his gun at Henry, his eyes narrowed. “Will you STOP with that psychobabble bullshit and do something to help?”
Joel had wedged the door, and was returning fire every time he got the opportunity. He had no intention of hitting them, but was giving Molly time to get the package safe.
“Your suit is armor-reinforced, right?” Joel spoke out to her between shots, still calm and clinical. He was in deep concentration, as if he were an air traffic controller at the planet’s busiest space port.
“Yes,” she hissed back to him from inside the room. She pushed Garet up against the far corner, well out of the way of gunfire. If anything was going to get him, it was going to have to blast through the bathroom.
“Ok. Watch for debris. Protect his face. I have a plan.”
Garet slumped down in the corner, the adrenalin stealing the power from his limbs. Molly heard Joel close and lock the room’s door.
“That’s not going to hold them,” she called back over the sound of now incessant gun fire in the corridor. The pitch of her voice had risen, Garet noticed. His face paled.
He was screwed.
Molly looked at him cowering and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She headed over to protect him with her suit. “Get up!” she instructed.
Garet struggled, using the wall to leverage himself up. His legs just couldn’t take his weight.
Molly, gun in one hand, tried to use her other hand to haul him up against the wall.
Looks like someone is having fun!
Shut up, Oz. Not now.
I’m just saying. I haven’t seen you get that close and personal with a human being before.
She felt her breast accidentally press against Garet’s splaying body.
Not now, Oz. Though how the fuck do you know what’s going on…?
Sensors.
This time Molly did roll her eyes.
Meanwhile, with the door closed and Joel’s fire no longer holding them back, Henry and Erik had made their way down the corridor.
“Ok. On three.” Joel heard one of the Ogg voices right outside the door.
“On three, or after three?” Henry asked Erik. Joel shook his head in disbelief.
“On three,” Erik responded, a hint of irritation still in his voice.
“Ok. So that’s one, two, and then bash?”
“No – one, two, three then bash.”
“So that’s after three.”
Fuck me, thought Joel to himself. He was standing inside the bathroom, impatiently waiting for them to breach. He couldn’t believe these clowns were still alive, if this was how they worked.
Still, never assume, he told himself. He was ready to go to town on these guys just as soon as they got their shit together and got through the door.
“Ok, after three.” The voices outside concurred.
“One. Two. Three.”
Thump.
The dead weight of the two Oggs slammed pathetically against the door.
Joel didn’t move.
The door didn’t break.
“Fokking drulludeli. That hurt!” Henry whined.
There was more conferring. And then, after a short pause and the clicking of firearms, an onslaught of rounds came at the door.
“Shit!” yelled Molly, letting a limp Garet slide back down against the wall. In the heat of the moment she remembered Joel’s words, “Protect his face”. She pressed her body against his, not paying attention as he continued to slide down. She held him pinned, bracing against the blasts on the door. His face seemed to stop when it got to her crotch.
Garet’s muffled voice reached her ears, “Fokk, if I have to go out…”
A moment later the door was breached, and the Oggs came piling into the room. The first one was heavier. Denser. Joel drop kicked him like a motherfucker, and he landed in a heap. His partner followed him in, tripped on the body, and fell to the floor cussing and bitching about “Rony Tobbins” and “should have gone on three!” Joel couldn’t make it out. Gun set to stun, he fired at the second guy’s shoulder, knocking him out.
“Clear!” He shouted back to Molly. “You ok?”
“Yes. Stay there. We’re coming out.” Her voice sounded anxious. Agitated almost.
Joel tried to step over the two Oggs, without standing on them. He was a soldier. He wasn’t disrespectful or meaninglessly destructive.
There was scrambling and grunting from around the corner. “Joel, stay back!” Molly insisted.
Joel, ignoring her protests, managed to navigate past the heap and poke his head around the corner to see Garet’s face planted against Molly’s crotch, and Molly trying to help the guy up to his feet again.
His smile spread across his face. “Do you two want a minute together?” He paused, enjoying the scene. “Room’s paid for.”
He considered taking a picture with his holo, but the danger wasn’t past and there was no time.
Molly, mortified, dropped Garet and stepped away, removing her crotch from the equation.
Garet thudded to the ground, but was now more alert. A dopey grin appeared on his lips. “Hope I’m not paying extra for that.”
Joel expected her to help Garet to his feet, but Molly, now bright red, stalked out of the room.
“Come on, mate. Let’s get you out of here.” Joel helped Garet to his feet, and then swung himself under his arm to help him walk. “I admire your commitment to the job though, Molly!” he called out to her as she left the room.
Garet was partially standing, but hesitated to accept Joel’s help. He looked at him quizzically. “You ok?”
Garet looked down. “Er, yeah. I think I just need a minute.”
Quick as a flash, Joel realized what he meant and stepped away from the guy, leaving him to stumble back and catch himself by sitting on the bed.
“Dude, I do not want to know.” Joel replied, turning his eyes away.
“Gentleman, we need to leave,” Molly called from the corridor.
“Just a second,” Joel called back. “Waiting for blood to return to the proper places.”
Molly rolled her eyes, her adrenalin falling while her embarrassment climbed. “Fucking arsehole motherfucker!”
Joel tried not to grin, but this was a story he was going to tell for eons. “Garet, mate, really. We have to go. Can you at least walk? You can sit back down in the car and she’ll never know.”
Garet nodded, the color slowly returning to his face. He swayed and Joel helped him up and out of the room, carefully stepping over the two most inept assassins he had ever encountered.
Molly was out in the corridor, weapon still drawn, listening for security or a second assault team.
“You ok?” Joel asked Molly as he helped Garet out into the corridor.
“Fine.” She replied.
Garet avoided catching her eye as he allowed Joel to lead him out to the car.
Frustrated and embarrassed, Molly stepped back into the hotel room and looked at the two unconscious Oggs. “Fucking assholes!” she whispered venomously. Then she kicked the ass of the Ogg on the bottom of the heap. “That’s for making me grind my crotch in our client’s face!”
Feeling slightly vindicated, she turned and left.
Back at the car, Garet and Joel were safely loaded in. She placed the safety on and tossed her weapon onto the seat and then swung in from the fire escape herself.
So how do you think that went as a second mission?
Molly slammed her door shut, and Oz pulled the car away and onto the strato highway.
I’ll let you know when I’m able to look my client in the eye again.
Chapter 10
Somewhere between Spire and the safe house
“You okay?” Joel turned around from the driver’s seat to look at Garet.
“Yeah, think so.” Garet held out his hand to see how much it was shaking, then quickly snatched it away again as he realized he probably looked like a coward.
“Wanna fill us in on why those two goons were after you?” Molly asked without looking back from the front seat.
Garet answered. “I have intel, and Dewitt—my boss—found out about it.”
“Okay, so who is your boss, and what kind of intel do you have on him?” This time Molly glanced behind her to get a read on their new client.
Garet hesitated, looking at Joel.
Joel nodded. “She’s good.”
Garet looked up at the roof as he started to piece together his thoughts to explain what the hell was going on.
“It seems my boss, William Dewitt, has been involved in vote-fixing in the Senate. The intel is the proof. The only problem is that using that proof will implicate a lot of innocent people who have inadvertently gotten sucked up into this clusterfuck. By the time I realized this, it was too late. I had already put people at risk to gather the files, and somehow Dewitt found out. I tried to let him know I’m not planning on using it, but the trust has been broken.”
“I guess when you have this much at stake, you can’t take the chance…” mused Molly, still wanting more of the blanks filled in.
“Yeah. I guess. But this means that I’m now a threat, and unless something changes, he’s going to keep coming for me until I’m ‘neutralized.’”
Garet looked genuinely scared. Joel felt for the guy. Turning around in his seat, he started to say something.
“Holy fuck!! You’re going to get us killed!” Garet yelled, seeing that Joel had taken both hands off the wheel, and obviously wasn’t in control of piloting the vehicle at all.
Joel panicked for a second, shocked by Garet’s sudden outburst, then realized that he was reacting to the fact he wasn’t driving the car. “It’s okay. It’s cool. The car is driving itself.”
Molly started laughing, putting a hand up to her mouth.
Garet looked at Molly for confirmation.
“Come on. It’s not that hard to believe,” she answered, eyes glinting in humor.
Garet calmed down a little. He was clearly still on edge.
His eyes flicked between the two of them. “Oh. Sorry. I’m just a bit jumpy. Been one hell of a morning.”
She nodded. “It’s okay. We’re going to figure this out. We’re going to get back to the safe house and start looking at this problem in more detail. There’ll be a way out of it, but we’re going to need your help finding that way. You’ve got insight and information that will help us,” explained Molly. “And if it comes to it, we may need to take Dewitt out.”
Joel glared at her. This wasn’t how they handled things.
Would that be classed as murder?
It solves the problem.
Yes, but I don’t understand. You’re trying to stop your client from being murdered, and to do that you’re going to use execution to solve a problem. Is that correct?
It’s totally what Bethany Anne would do.
I understood that Bethany Anne is a cautionary tale.
You’ve not read everything I have.
Yes, I have. You’ve just drawn a conclusion which probably got you through growing up. I also reviewed a few texts on developmental psychology.
It doesn’t make you an expert about growing up.
Maybe not, but I’m starting to understand something about you. And about right and wrong. I’m not sure we should solve our clients’ problems by killing people. Apart from anything, you’ll be breaking the laws and that has consequences like being in prison.
Okay, well, homicide would be a last resort. But if it comes to it, it’s still on the table.
I’m sure with our unique capabilities, we might be able to construct another methodology.
Yes, I’m sure we can.
Molly had a funny feeling that Oz was performing the role of her new conscience.
Having an AI in her holo completely sucked ass.
Garet continued talking to Joel. “Well, either way, he had friends in high places. I think taking him down politically is going to be a challenge. He’s deeply embedded in this web of intrigue.”
Joel looked at him through the rearview mirror. “There must be weaknesses somewhere. Our research will bring those to light, and we’ll figure out a plan. What’s he like as a boss?”
Garet pulled a face. “Demanding but charming, especially to people who can help him. Honestly, he’s rather two-faced and will turn on anyone if it suits him politically. But he’s well liked in the Senate.”
Molly sat listening, taking it all in. This was going to be a challenge. For a start, it involved other people, not just code or numbers. People were unpredictable. And at some point she was going to have to learn how to read their behaviors and make accurate predictions—something she had had enormous difficulty with in the past.
She relaxed into her seat and let her head fall back against the headrest. She closed her eyes and let the sound of the guys talking wash over her. She was going to have to adapt if they were going be successful at this type of mission.
Garet continued. “And the public adores him, too. Something about his good looks and manner in front of the cameras. But then every so often, his mask slips and you see who he really is. What he’s really capable of…”
Senate Assembly, Downtown Spire
Paige stood at the back of the address hall.
“…and that is why we need to take care of those who aren’t served by a health program already.”
Her boss was killing it on the stage. He was one hell of a competent Senate Officer. And handsome. Heck, if she didn’t have a thing going on with Garet, she would totally be staying late with him, like during the elections. But at that time she was just a junior. He was probably off bonking some other staff member then.
The plush duck egg blue carpet was so thick her heels sank into it, making her feel a little unbalanced.
She looked down at her holo. She swiped discreetly to open her messages—still nothing. It had been nearly thirty-six hours since Garet had checked in with her. Although he had said he was okay, there was definitely something he was keeping from her. Something that made him anxious.
She texted again.
GARET, WHERE ARE YOU? I’M WORRIED.
She forced her attention back to the room. She needed to focus. It was bad enough that Garet had disappeared, but she herself had also betrayed the man who had taken good care of her for the three years she’d been working for him. She prayed her guilt wasn’t showing up on her face.
Fokk, her life was a mess.
She shuffled through the notes on her holo, making sure that everything was on time with his script. The audience seemed to be lapping it up, applauding and laughing in the right places.
Time to check his real-time approval ratings. He was gaining a few points every minute he kept talking. That would make Mr. Andus happy.
She took a clip of the data and sent it to their group thread. She’d been charged with maintaining communications with the syndicate of Mr. Dewitt’s friends. They never seemed to ask her for anything, but Dewitt said they liked to be kept in the loop. That was good with her. It was easy to send them bits and pieces, like today. There was enough activity of interest going on with Dewitt and his rise to power to appease any sponsors. She figured they were mostly donors and philanthropists.
It was just a shame she suspected him of getting into power under such dubious circumstances.
She shook the thought from her mind. She couldn’t for one minute believe that he’d killed anyone in order to get into power. And his wife—that was just an accident, not a convenience as the media had intimated. He’d told her himself that he’d rather give away all his assets and have her still alive.
Poor man, she thought.
The room erupted in applause, and remote camera pods swept up and down the aisles and rows, capturing footage of the audience’s reaction. News reporters started up in front of their cameras all along the back end of the room where she stood quietly, trying to keep out of the way. Dewitt waved at his audience from the stage, walking his very toned ass and tightly fitted suit off the stage.
Fokk, he was hot.
* * *
Once off stage, Dewitt grabbed a bottle of water and headed into the back rooms. He had a few minutes before he was expected to meet with the press. Or something. He couldn’t remember exactly what. The speech had been the important thing for today. Paige would set him right, though.
He pulled up his holo and walked out through the suites behind the address hall and into an empty corridor. Checking up and down for any prying ears, he hailed the Burger ‘n Shakes contact.
“Hi, hi, Burger ‘n Shakes. This is Sandie. How can I help?”
“Hello, Sandie. I’d like to talk with Mr. Andus, please.”
“Just one second, Mr. Dewitt.”
The music came on briefly for a moment, and then the line was answered.
“You have news?”
“Yes, sir. It was as well received as we had hoped.”
“Excellent. Well, who wouldn’t want health care for all?” The voice was laced with sarcasm.
“I’m meeting with Medifair in a few hours to roll out phase two. I’ll be in touch.”
“Very good. Let’s try and avoid any more fuckups. Your next stop is Senator. Make sure you tie up any loose ends —and that includes the girl.”
The line clicked off.
Though everything was going according to plan, William Dewitt felt anxious as he stood in the sparsely furnished back room with a painted concrete floor.
As an Estarian who had lived a somewhat charmed life, at least as described by Vanity Magazine the other month, anxiety wasn’t something he was used to. He was used to having a target and working his ass off, making whatever sacrifices were necessary and reaching the goal. But for a moment, the hub of activity a few doors away, he felt…
Alone.
He cricked his neck, rubbing his blue fingers up and down the back of it to center himself. Probably just tired, he told himself. It’s been a long few months, and now it’s crunch time. I’m bound to have feelings come up now and again. Right?
Mentally collecting himself for the public and his next meetings, he strode confidently out of the half-empty room and into the corridor, back to the main area where Paige could find him.
Safe house, fifty kilometers west of Uptarlung
“Hey, Joel?” Garet wandered back into the kitchen, having cleaned up a little. “I can’t get a signal on my holo…?”
Joel was clearing up the breakfast dishes from earlier, and Molly sat nursing a lukewarm mug of mocha. This had probably been the most intense day Garet had ever lived through.
The drained look on his face said it all.
They’d been back in the safe house nearly twenty minutes, and all Garet had done was dump his gear and head straight to the bathroom to clean up. Molly suspected he was probably giving himself a pep talk, or whatever it was boys did when they needed to pull themselves together.
Molly glanced up as he walked in and sat down at the kitchen table, still fiddling with his holo. The sphinx who had seemed to have taken up residence with them padded over and rubbed up against his leg, saying hello and surreptitiously checking him out.
She answered. “That’s because we’re jamming the signal. You can’t let anyone know where you are, and until we reconfigure your holo we’re jamming everything.”
His eyes opened a little. “But I have to let Paige know that I’m safe. The last she heard, I’d just picked up the data drop and was heading out of town. She doesn’t know that you guys are involved yet.”
Joel shook his head. “You can contact her as soon as we figure out what’s going on and sort out your holo. Until then, you can’t trust, or contact, anyone.” He was in team leader mode, even with a dishcloth in his hand.
It was Molly’s turn. “So, tell me, Garet…how did you come across this proof of vote-fixing?” Molly’s curiosity was getting the better of her, and Joel had suggested they keep the questioning for after he had had a chance to come down from the emotional experience he’d just been through. Molly had agreed, but if they were going to keep him safe, they were going to have to know everything.
Joel glanced at her sideways as he popped some more dishes into the sink. So much for their emotionally sensitive game plan.
“I have a source,” Garet finally replied, flatly.
Knew he wasn’t a hacker.
Shut uuuup! Busy now with adulting stuff, Oz.
Fine. Shutting up. This is one of those instances when you are being boring, just FYI.
Fine. Go and research those ships we talked about.
She rapped the table with her knuckles. “Garet, listen to me carefully. If you want to stay alive, you’re going to have to tell us more about this source.” Molly hoped to hell this guy wasn’t going to be a dick. “So I’ll ask you again…how did you come across this intel?”
Joel swiveled around from washing the dishes in the sink to look over at him. It was the push he needed.
Garet folded. “Okay, okay. There’s a girl…Paige.”
“Oh, man. There’s always a girl in the middle of trouble!” Joel noted, turning back to his washing.
Molly shot a glare into the back of his head. “Not cool, Joel.”
“Sorry.” His small smile disappeared. “But it’s true. You women have that effect on us…” Realizing what he’d just said, he suddenly found himself very focused on getting dried pancake off one of the plates.
“Go on,” said Molly, concentrating again on their client, and noticing that he was half-smiling and a little more relaxed as a result of the brief banter.
“Well, as I was saying, her name is Paige. She’s Dewitt’s assistant. Half human, half Estarian. It’s a very exotic mix, as you may know. Very rare. Anyway, when I first started working out of the downtown office, we met, and it was…well, electric.”
Garet had a distant look in his eye for a moment.
“And… how did she come to have this intel?”
“Well, there’s a group that Dewitt is involved with; something to do with donors from the healthcare sector. All very hush-hush. But Paige handles all the admin for the group. You know, meeting notes, logistics, contracts, that kind of thing. So she has access to a bunch of data on a separate server. Some kind of shielded special security server, which is separate from the normal Senate Office stuff.”
He paused, dropping his head into his hands. Still wearing his suit, with the top button of his shirt undone, he looked like he’d been working in the office all day. And now, talking about Paige, his shoulders dropped another inch and he aged another ten years.
Molly wondered if he was going to cry.
Shit, that’s the last thing I need. Thank fuck that Joel is here.
Patience, Molly. By most standards, he’s been through a lot.
Ugh, Oz. I’m being patient. But this guy really doesn’t have to take all day to tell us this. I just need to know what he knows so we can solve this. Emotions are like the little pieces of sand that makes the inside of engines get all fucked up. They slow down the communication cycle.
If you needed to run a search on a server, you’d end up having to wait for the search to run. This is no different. What do you do when you’re waiting for searches to return results?
You don’t want to know.
You’re right, I don’t, Ms. 4077.
Shut up, you half-witted data string.
Name calling now? My, my!
Molly ignored Oz’s last jibe. Telling him “you started it” wasn’t on the table.
She continued with Garet. “Okay, so she had access to this special server. Where did you come into the picture?”
“Well, one night we were lying in bed talking about our day and Paige happened to mention that this server existed.” Garet leaned back in his chair a bit, “I had been struggling to impress Dewitt for some time, and I figured if I was more in the know, I could be more useful.” He looked up at Molly.
“So you arranged to take a peek at the servers?” Molly intuited.
Garet nodded, “Right. It was to help. I wasn’t spying. But when I found the evidence of the vote-fixing in order to get certain bills passed, I had to rethink what I was going to do. I mean, they probably knew I knew, but I’d not taken a copy of anything. That was two weeks ago. It wasn’t until I asked Paige to take a copy of the file that the shit really hit the fan and those guys started coming after me. Before I knew it, I was on the run. But when I spoke to Paige earlier this morning, everything was fine at her end, as if Dewitt had no idea she’d been involved.
Garet paused a moment before asking hesitantly, “How is that possible? It’s not possible, is it?”
Molly glanced down at the table, and sensed Joel turning around. Feeling his gaze, she looked up to meet his eyes. She knew that look.
From his experience, he would guess that Paige was probably already dead or someone had killing her on their to-do list.
“Okay, so here’s the problem as I see it…” Molly began, unofficially starting a meeting that needed to happen.
Joel took the cue, and abandoned what was left of the dishes to take a seat at the table as well.
She continued when he sat down. “First we need to figure out a way to get hold of Paige. She’s compromised. There’s no way that they don’t know about her involvement. Then, longer term, we need a way to make it safe for Garet to go back to his life, or something close to it.” She paused to think, then continued.
“Stopping Dewitt from wanting Garet and Paige out of the picture isn’t going to be possible while he still has something to lose if they expose him. So we need to find a way of taking away any reason to care about what they do, or make it so that even if this intel did get out, it wouldn’t make any difference. We need to neutralize the threat that Garet poses, in other words.”
Joel scratched at the back of his head. “While I don’t know much about politics. It’s never been a world that I understood, but what we’d do in a military scenario is isolate the threat from his resources: lights, comms, weaponry, food, shelter, and so on.”
Molly picked up the thought-baton, “Yes, that would be applicable here. Except we need to go after the resources that make him powerful—allies, friends, and political relationships that he’s leaning on to get away with something like this. Then we take away the reason he wants our guys dead, so there’s no point in him pursuing Garet and Paige.”
“I wonder…” she continued again. “Why do we think Dewitt was keeping a file that was clearly a danger to him if it got out? Why not just destroy it? Why put it on a server where hackers and prying eyes could find it?”
Joel answered. “My guess was that it was some kind of protection against whoever else was involved. Garet, what do you remember about these donors? Do you have any names?”
“Sure, I have a bunch of files on a data tag in my briefcase. There were lots of people on there I know, and know of. They’re pretty prominent figures. Let me see, there was Mac Kerr, Luc Andus, Jessica Newld…”
“Mac Kerr and Luc Andus. Could this be the Syndicate?” Joel wondered, half to himself and half to Molly.
“The Syndicate? That rings a bell. I’m sure I’ve heard Paige mention a syndicate before. Does that mean something?”
Joel’s eyes turned a little more serious than they had been. “Yes, it means helping you just got a whole lot harder,” he confessed.
This wasn’t going to be just another easy job.
“But it also gives us a target,” added Molly. “Those resources we need to separate Dewitt from? The Syndicate would be the top of that list. Without them, he likely has very little power, and also very little incentive to silence you. And if we turn him against them, they’ll likely do what they need to do to take care of him without us lifting a finger. Honor among thieves and all that,” she said as her eyes unfocused in thought.
“Okay, so how are we going to go about separating him from the group, then?” Joel looked skeptical, but after seeing Molly in action—and her saving his life and all—he was on board with whatever needed to be done.
“I’m not sure yet, but if Paige is still alive she would be the best person to speak to. I think it’s time we let her know you’re okay.” she said, turning to a very distressed Garet.
“Do we try calling her?” asked Joel.
“Yes, maybe from another number, so as not to tip them off that Garet is still alive and in touch with her.”
Chapter 11
L’Ogg Restaurant, Downtown Spire
“You should be supporting this motion. We’re making healthcare available for all.” Dewitt popped another forkful of food into his mouth, casually chatting with the head of the biggest publicly owned institution in his sector.
All around, Sarkians were eating and talking; the buzz of the restaurant and the clatter of utensils were making it difficult for the pair to really hear each other well. At least this resolves the issue of having our conversation bugged, thought Dewitt to himself, pleased at his own cleverness.
“Yes, but have you read the small print in the second half of the bill? Where it says that it then becomes illegal to not have it?” Dewitt’s lunch companion was much smarter than Dewitt had originally given him credit for.
This wasn’t the first time Dicken O’Farus had tried to block a piece of legislation that Dewitt wanted pushed through. The man had been a thorn in his side for a while now, long before he ever took the CEO position at Medifair. But now, with the weight of the organization behind him, Dicken’s opinion mattered. And it mattered in the Senate.
Dewitt needed him on his side.
“No, I haven’t read it. I wrote it.” He placed his knife and fork down on his plate, and took a sip of water.
Dicken pointed his knife at Dewitt before he used it to cut a piece of his meat. “Well, then you know that the aim of this bill isn’t simply to provide care to people who need it, but to make drug companies rich. Once this is passed, there is nothing to stop the companies from hiking up their prices. And, because the insurance policies pay for it in the short term, they won’t lose a cent. In fact, they’ll make a fortune. But the insurance companies won’t stand for that—they’ll be jacking up their prices in no time. With the whole population on the inner planets locked into the system and penalized if they have no healthcare, they’ll have no choice other than to pay up.”
Now Dicken used his knife as a pointer, twirling it around in the air as he tried to come up with his next statement. “It’s like a tyrannical tax, except the monarch who benefits from it doesn’t sit at the head of the Senate. The monarch is Andus.”
“Well, you’ve got an imagination. What makes you think that anyone is planning to increase their prices, Dicken?” Dewitt smirked, trying to contain his frustration.
“Word on the street is that this is exactly what Health Corp was trying to do, before they got hacked and had half their stock dumped on the market.” O’Farus’ eyebrows were raised, as if accusing Dewitt personally.
Dewitt ignored the bait. “Who said they got hacked?” he retorted instead.
“Why else would they hike up their prices, only to ditch their stock in one go and plummet their share price? It’s got to have been one of their competitors.” O’Farus was onto him. He knew something he wasn’t revealing. Dewitt was going to have to come at this from another way.
This lunch date was a bust.
Shit, he thought. This was the last thing he needed.
“Besides,” continued O’Farus, “what’s to stop any of them from increasing their prices?”
“Well, anyone who did that would be pricing themselves out of the market.” Dewitt deliberately acted naïve to see if he could turn it around.
“Not if they all did it.” O’Farus held Dewitt’s gaze.
Sooner or later, this Medifair thing was going to have to be handled. It was like having a white knight defending the castle Dewitt needed to get into.
“That, my dear friend, would be price-fixing. That’s illegal.” Dewitt tried once more to run the official logic that seemed to have been working with the Senate members the last few weeks, on the rare occasion any of them had actually read the bill.
“Until they lobby to change the laws around that, too.” O’Farus was onto them. There was no hiding it.
Shit, what the hell else could possibly go wrong? Dewitt wondered.
Safe house, fifty kilometers west of Uptarlung
I suggest Joel makes the call. They may recognize Garet’s voice, if they are monitoring her calls.
Good thinking, Oz.
“Guys, Oz suggested that Joel make the call.”
Joel nodded his agreement and pulled up his holo. Oz input the number and dropped the jamming signal.
Encrypting and cloaking. This call will be 99% untraceable.
“Okay, so Oz is cloaking the origin of the call. You know what you’re going to say, Joel? Just like we planned, yeah?”
“Yeah, I think I’ve got it.” Joel swiped through the notes they’d been making on the kitchen holoscreen as he hit dial and waited for the call to connect.
“Hello?” it was Paige’s voice.
Want me to put the call on speaker?
No, we don’t want Garet being too close to this. Leave it with Joel’s implant.
Roger that.
“Hi, Paige? Paige Montgomery?” Joel had his negotiator’s voice on. Firm and confident, but pleasant.
“Yes?”
“Hi, this is Dave. Our mutual friend has put us in touch…about the property viewing?”
How are we going with that cover story, Oz?
Nearly there. Implanted the search onto her personal holo and some message exchanges onto her personal accounts. Anyone checking up on her will see evidence of her lease being nearly up and her searching for a new apartment.
Great job.
Paige was ”umming” on the other end of the call. She clearly didn’t know what was going on, but had twigged that this was probably about Garet.
“Okay. So which mutual friend is this?”
Joel ignored the question, and continued with the script, knowing she’d get the message. “He says you’ve been worried about him, but that he’s fine. He’d like for you to take a look at this new apartment. Would you be okay to meet after work tonight?”
“Yes, yes, I can do that.” She hesitated slightly, no doubt wondering about her personal safety.
“We should meet somewhere like a bar, so you feel safe,” he continued. His voice was calm, balanced and soothing.
Molly was enjoying watching him handle the call. She wondered if his skill was a result of all those hostage negotiations and other badass shit he used to do when he was in the service. This wasn’t a part of his work that she had had the opportunity to see.
“May I suggest the Blue Rising Bar, a few blocks from your place of work?” Joel continued.
“Erm…yes. Sure. Hang on, you know where I work?”
“Yes, our friend told me so I can help you out.” Joel wasn’t fazed at all.
“Okay, fine. Say six o’clock?” she offered.
“Yes, great. I’ll see you then.” Joel clicked off, not wanting to get into any further conversation. They’d already agreed it would be Molly doing the meet and greet.
“That went well.” Molly confirmed, mostly for Garet’s benefit.
Garet started pacing again, having stood quietly captivated during the phone call. “She sounded okay, didn’t she? She didn’t sound like she was in trouble or anxious…”
“She sounded just fine,” Joel reassured him.
“It’s just…I don’t want to put her in danger by bringing her into this. Someone could be following her to see if she makes contact with me.”
Joel was about to interject and reassure him some more, but Molly couldn’t keep her mouth shut and turned to their client.
“Look Garet, she’s already involved. She’s already in danger. You saw to that when you asked her to give you access to the super-secret server. This is us working to get the intel we need to get you both out of danger. It’s the only way forward. And for all we know, they may already be onto her. In which case, having us looking out for her and involved in this op is the best protection she can get herself. Do you understand?”
Garet nodded.
Joel glanced at Molly a little uncomfortably. It was clear he disapproved of her directness with the guy who had come to them for help. At the same time, he couldn’t argue with her logic.
“Garet, we’re going to do everything we can to keep her safe.” Joel put a hand on his shoulder, and pulled out a chair for him at the table. Then, to Molly, he said, “Garet and I should have a chat about what this looks like, and settle his extraction bill.”
Molly took that as a clear sign that she was no longer needed, and realized too late she should have said something pleasant to Garet. Unfortunately nothing came to mind, so she left to go to her room to get some work done before she needed to get over to the bar in Spire.
She seriously needed to enhance her ability to connect with people. But dammit, sometimes they made a hash out of getting from problem to solution in the most efficient method possible. And that annoyed the ever loving hell out of her.
If efficiency had a middle name, she figured it wasn’t Molly, but if it had a second middle name, that might be her.
Chapter 12
A few hours later Molly emerged from her isolation tomb, dressed and wanting to refuel the car in preparation for her next drive to Spire. Bustling into the kitchen, she found Joel preparing food in the bowl that had been unofficially designated for the sphinx.
She raised an eyebrow, “So, we own a cat now?”
Joel spun around, as if caught red-handed. “Uhhhh, yeeeesssss.”
Molly cocked her head, about to mock him for his sudden attachment to a potential security threat. Realizing what he’d just said, she wanted clarification.
“We do?”
“Yeah, well, apparently, it doesn’t belong to anyone, and the landlady’s been worried about it not being looked after. She said that if it keeps coming back and wants to go with us when we leave, we’re welcome to it. She warned me that it’s never really stuck around in the past, but then, these sphinxes have a tendency to choose their owners.”
Molly rolled her eyes. “Oh, joy,” she said as she grabbed a glass of water.
“Why? What’s wrong?” Joel had stopped what he was doing and was looking at her in concern, as if he’d missed a major operational detail.
“Nothing.” Molly resisted the urge to screw up her nose.
“No, come on. There’s something. I thought everybody liked these purry creatures as pets. And in fact, you were the first one to feed it.”
“Feeding a starving animal is not the same as wanting to adopt one into the family…” Molly blurted out, then regretted the comment.
I don’t see what the problem is.
No one asked you, logic puzzle!
She took a deep breath. “Okay, these things, they’re the equivalent of the cat in this system. And everyone knows the situation with cats.” She told him.
Joel looked lost.
She looked at her friend, “Seriously?” She took a moment to collect her thoughts and then explained. “A human is a slave to a cat. No one ever owns a cat. A cat owns a human. That’s just the way it is.”
Now it was Joel’s turn to cock his head, waiting for more detail.
“You’ll see!” Molly landed the comment with humor, and though Joel was captivated by the prospect of having a pet join their team, he wondered if her words were in fact laden with prophecy. He hated the idea that maybe she was going to be right.
He set the food carefully down on the floor in front of the waiting sphinx, and noticed how he suddenly felt like a server at a restaurant delivering food to a waiting patron.
Damn, she was right!
She flipped a hand out. “Anyway, whatever. If you want to keep it that’s fine with me, as long as I don’t end up having to take care of it.” She glanced at the sphinx before opening the fridge to find a quick bite of food before she had to fly.
“Why do I have a feeling you’re going to be right about this?” Joel asked, suddenly concerned he’d landed himself in something that he couldn’t back out of.
“I’m right about most things, you know.” Molly grabbed a couple of things, closed the fridge door and smiled at him.
Well, actually…
Shush, Oz!
Molly shifted into business mode. “Hey, while I have you, can we talk about our next steps?” Joel could tell that she processed information differently when she was thinking about operations and techie stuff. Her face was just…different, and she felt more serious and distant.
“Not a problem.” He folded a tea towel and laid it on the counter top, then leaned on it with his arms crossed to give her his full attention.
She grabbed utensils. “Okay, as you know, Oz has been looking into the process of buying a ship for off-world. But we need a legal entity to take possession of it once we find one. And that’s going to take about fourteen days to set up and verify through the various channels.”
“Even with Oz’s ability to hack into things and put you at the front of the queue?” he asked.
She put the food on a plate while she was talking. Sitting down at the table to eat, she continued.
“Yes, even with that. Some of the verifications need to happen manually, so we have no control over that.” She thought for a second. “Besides, we’re trying to discourage him from doing things that are unethical.” She smiled slightly before taking a bite of leftover pancake layered with cheese and gherkin.
Joel was marginally impressed that she’d considered that, but wasn’t entirely convinced it wasn’t just a ploy. She was leading up to something, he could tell.
“Okay, so what’s the ethical workaround?” He asked.
“Well, I wondered if you would be okay with us operating through your company, to take possession of the ship at least. And as we develop the other pieces of the plan to take this operation off-world and build a base to deal with bigger stuff, I can set up a new entity to do that. It’s just we’re against the clock now, if we want to disappear efficiently and effectively.”
She stopped talking and took another bite of food, watching Joel over her bizarre sandwich.
Joel thought for a moment. “I mean yeah, sure. Anything you need. This whole thing is moving fast though, and I’m just not sure why it’s important that we get off-world so quickly. You really think that we’re in that much danger?”
Molly nodded and stacked some more cheese onto the next piece of pancake with her fingers and took a bite.
“I do.” She swallowed. “I think that we could probably hide for a few days by getting out of town, but that we’ll have to keep running. Remember, everything down to our vehicle, our money, and even our holos, can be tracked wherever we go within the reach of the Central Planet’s XtraNET.”
She watched Joel’s reaction carefully, wanting to make sure he understood.
“But not only that, since talking with Mac and hearing about the Syndicate, I think we’ve begun to go up against some damned powerful and determined people. These last two cases have been for a good cause, but think realistically about the future.”
She paused to take another bite of food, letting Joel chew on the tactical aspects of the bigger picture.
Joel considered it from his experience during the last couple of years. He reached up to scratch his chin. “You’re right. When you put it that way, if we’re going to be doing this regularly and pissing off high level assholes, there are going to be some pretty annoyed people sending thugs against us.” His eyes unfocused for just a moment. “We can’t do it from within the system. Hellz, we don’t even have prints in the system and eventually that can bite us in the ass. Finally, we can’t build the kind of operation we need while we’re on the run.”
“It’s funny,” he added. “I knew when we first talked about this that we might be biting off something large. But I was more excited at the prospect of having something worth fighting for; I mean, changing the world, one brick, one case, at a time. That’s pretty powerful shit. But I guess I was so high on the possibility of what we might achieve that I didn’t really think through the risks.”
Molly smiled sympathetically. “You’ve just been out of practice for so long.” She winked at him.
Joel bobbed his head in agreement. “You jest, but it’s true. I got caught up in the emotion of it.”
Molly’s heart tightened. “You’re still on board, right? You don’t want to change your mind?”
His looked over to Molly and winked. “Can’t get rid of me that easily. Just because I was one of the most successful independent…. Well, shit. I can’t sell that. So I was doing ok, bringing in some money and dying one day at a time finding lost husbands who seemed to be occupying someone else’s home at night. Do you know how much that sucks the soul out of a person, to always be looking at the underside of people’s moral ass all the time?”
Molly’s relief was evident in her face; Joel noticed especially that the skin around her eyes relaxed.
“Let me tell you something…” Joel pulled out a chair and sat down at the table with Molly. She had finished eating and pushed the plate an inch away to give him her attention.
“I got into the military because I wanted to change the world. The thing that’s great about the service is that you’re given the skills to not be powerless anymore. And you get put with a team of people with the same skills, and together you’re sent on missions. Some gigs change the world for the better. Others help maintain the status quo and the balance of power. The trouble is, you don’t get to choose.”
Molly was now listening intently.
“So then, you left because you wanted to be your own boss?” she asked.
“No, I left because I want to help change the world. Being the boss doesn’t appeal to me. Being a leader is just what I do when I have good people around me that want to pull in the same direction. But I got out because with each mission there at the end, I didn’t know if we were the bad guys or the good guys any longer.”
Joel took a breath, and released it, along with what seemed like a ton of tension.
“I guess, as I’m talking, I’m realizing that I am with you because I know that even though we might fuck up and have the wool pulled over our eyes, our intention is in the right place. Your intention is in the right place. In the right direction. And as such, Ms. Bates, I will follow you off-world, or to another system, or to the damn Pan Galaxy if that is where this effort to make a fucking difference takes us.”
Molly felt tension building in her throat. She tried to remain neutral, but this sentiment was a little overwhelming. She attempted to speak, but her voice got caught.
Joel noticed her eyes welling with tears.
He shook his head, a small grin forming around his lips. “Molly Bates getting emotional. Never thought I’d see that! Man, if the old squad heard about this, they’d never believe it.” He was talking lightly, as if trying to lessen the intensity of the conversation.
“Okay, here’s the last thing I want to say, and then I’ll shut up.” His voice was the gentlest she’d ever heard it. “Molly, you saved my life.” He paused, his eyebrows furrowed together, “Well to be fair, you killed me first, but then you raised me from the dead. I suppose I’ll be able to get free beers on that story for a long time. At least some good will come out of it.”
She snorted, then slapped a hand over her nose.
He grinned. “You’re a leader through and through if you let yourself be. And yeah, sometimes your methods are a little intense, but there are going to be times where that intensity is going to save lives.”
He pointed to her and then himself, “We’re going to need that. So, I guess what I’m saying is…I owe you. But more than that, I want you to lead this effort. I want you to take charge of this whole bigger picture thing. I can’t do it. It’s not me. You’re the driver behind this whole initiative. But as long as you want to lead, I will be there to support you. Every. Step. Of. The. Fucking. Way.”
Molly had tears streaming down her face. Still unable to speak, she nodded, and mouthed the words, “Thank you.”
Joel got up and found the paper towels on the counter. Peeling a couple sheets off, he handed her the towels to wipe her face.
“Just don’t ever expect me to give you advice on girly shit or anything. I am not into that kind of support…” He winked, and she giggled through her tears.
After the hug she thanked him again, still too overwhelmed with her own emotions to really respond.
“I’ve got to get the car refueled before my trip to Spire,” she said finally, swapping out her old paper towels for a few new sheets.
“Sure. Go do what you gotta do. I’ll be here.” Joel lightly punched her arm and Molly left, looking forward to the long drive ahead to get her shit together once more.
“Oh, and you should probably name your new friend,” she said, looking at the sphinx before she left.
Klambratun Park, downtown Spire
Dewitt approached the designated park bench. Mr. Andus was already there, looking out at the park and the fountains. It looked like he was genuinely enjoying the peace and natural beauty of the place.
Dewitt knew better.
Placing himself at the other end of the bench, he crossed his legs and pulled out his holo, pretending to catch up on messages.
Andus acknowledged him as you would a stranger, and then looked back out over the lake, taking in the breeze.
Finally he spoke.
“I hear your man disappeared.”
Shit. Dewitt knew Andus would already be aware. He had never been able to work out how the hell he got his intel.
“Yes. Garet Beaufort is missing, but we still have the girl. We suspect he won’t go far without her. She is still going about her life as if nothing has happened.”
“So you’re planning to take her out as well?”
“She was the one who copied the files onto a pod and then gave them to him. I don’t know what else to do.”
“It’s a shame. She has been loyal till now.” Andus spoke mostly with indifference, like one might mourn an old cleaning rag that had been worn out. “Do we have any idea what prompted this sudden turn of allegiance?”
“We can only think it was the boyfriend. She hasn’t had any contact with other known threats. Nor has he, from what we can tell. We’re still looking into it.”
“Might I suggest that it was an idiotic move to be keeping those records in the first place?” Andus’ voice was even and steely.
Dewitt forced himself not to shudder. He knew only too well what Andus was capable of, but to show fear was to show weakness. He’d seen Andus’ form of justice enacted first hand, and he had no intention of finding himself in that same compromised position.
“It was, and I’m truly sorry. I will fix this. But…” he hesitated, wondering if he should push it.
His mouth got away from him. “…but you don’t exactly foster trust.”
Andus pursed his lips and shook his head, minutely. “And now, because of your trust issues, you risk exposing us all.” There was a short pause, “This is hardly a justification.”
“Sir, I have my best men fixing our problem. It will be resolved in short order.” Dewitt desperately tried to reassure his leader, knowing now was not the time to mention the hiccup with O’Farus.
“If by your best men, you mean the duo commonly known as Henrik, we’re all in trouble. Those two morons couldn’t find their way out of a paper bag.” A sneer crept across Andus’ thin gray lips.
“Not Henrik. I’ve got others in my employ.” Dewitt stumbled over his words, trying to maintain his composure. “It will be resolved. You have my word.”
“Let’s hope so, Mr. Dewitt. If you were to be exposed, the group and I cannot be caught anywhere near this. We will need to distance ourselves from any association with you.”
“You mean I’m on my own?” There was shock in his voice. He’d given his life to this group, and when he needed them most he was at risk of being cast out. Abandoned.
“That’s exactly what I mean, Mr. Dewitt. Clean it up. There is too much at stake.” And with that, Mr. Andus got up and ambled away casually, as if he were continuing a simple walk in the park. The pale skin of his face tilted up towards the sunlight as he left.
Dewitt sat for a moment, waiting for the panic in his chest to subside. The shock had affected him more than he had imagined when he’d played out the worst-case scenarios in the wee hours of the previous few nights. Normally collected and composed, he now hunched over with his head in his hands and elbows on his knees. This wasn’t the same man that people had seen a few hours before delivering a confident address. Nor was it the Senate official who schmoozed his way through the downtown restaurant to represent the Syndicate’s interests with Medifair.
This was more like the man who had been exposed for murdering his own wife all those years ago, when he first pledged his allegiance to Mr. Andus in exchange for a professional cover-up.
This man was close to falling apart.
Chapter 13
Safe house, fifty kilometers west of Uptarlung
Joel found Molly sitting up on her bed, as he had countless times since they started living here. It had become her office, where she would hide away from other activity in order to think and “get shit done,” as she had called it.
“Hey,” he knocked on the open door. “Garet just made the transfer. We’re good to go on that ship purchase whenever you’re ready.” Joel made a face, “I think we are in the wrong business. Politics, or at least some factions with the business area, seem to pay well or opportunities present themselves around lunch meetings or something.”
Molly looked up, her face lighting up at the prospect of buying a real spaceship. It wasn’t every day a girl got to make that kind of purchase.
“Ah, excellent. Might be worth talking through with Garet the possibility of him having to come off-world with us for a little while until things cool down here…even if this all goes our way.”
Molly was optimistic, but she didn’t know how this was going to go. Neither of them could predict that.
“Yes, good plan. He’ll need time to adjust to the idea, but as long as we can persuade Paige to come with, he’ll probably be agreeable.”
“Super.”
“What you up to?” Joel asked as casually as he could.
“Just about to pick out a ship that we can actually afford the down payment on. Oz has got a couple of good potentials lined up, and he managed to figure out some creative financing to get us going. But I think we’re going to also filter for those that are available right away.”
“Sounds like a plan. I agree with the sooner the better. I’ve been thinking about this location, and there are only so many trips we can make without them finding us. Even with our maneuvers and anti-radar paint.”
“And picking up our own pizza!” Molly joked.
“Exactly!” Joel grinned at her.
“Any news on our pilot and engineer yet?” she asked, still in operations mode.
“Yep, two meetings tomorrow. Downtown Uptarlung. Both ex-military. Did some finagling with some old contacts from the service. These guys aren’t special ops or anything, but they’re still shit hot at what they do, which is keeping birds in the air. They should be good for this next phase of expansion.”
“Great. And when we have the resources and the need for more specialist skills, we will find the means of reaching them?”
Joel nodded, “Right. At this rate we seem to be gathering something of a reputation already.”
“How so?” Molly was genuinely amazed that anyone could really know what they were up to.
“Ah, you know…from calling up clients, and people getting in touch after the Health Corp thing went live. People talk. And they especially talk when it comes to operatives who can get shit done.”
“Well, that sounds like it’s good for business. The danger is going to be remaining accessible to potential clients while not having the dirtbags be able to trace us.”
“Yeah, something to think about as we solve these other problems, I guess.”
“Hey, did you think of what to call this little guy yet?” Molly indicated to the purple sphinx that was curled up on her bed, snuggled up against her crossed legs.
Joel looked at him in a way that said, “aww”. Being all military and manly though, he resisted the urge to vocalize it.
This time, Joel shook his head. “I thought about it, but haven’t been able to come up with anything. I’ve never really been one for pets.”
“Hmm,” Molly mused, putting her metaphorical thinking cap on. “He seems kinda wise, don’t you think? Like he’s operating on some higher consciousness.”
“You’re not going to get all etheric and shit on me, are you?” Joel teased.
“No. I’m not into all that. But…you know there was this ancient Earth philosopher. Neechie or something.” She started looking something up on her handheld holo. “He suggested that there were different levels of consciousness. Like not knowing you’re enslaved, to realizing you’re a slave, and then being able to break free of the bonds and live a truly creative, expansive life.”
“How do you spell that, though? Sounds complicated.” Joel wasn’t convinced.
“That’s what I’m looking up, now.”
"You know some dead philosopher on a planet hundreds of star systems away, but you can't spell his name?"
"You know that's practically a dead language, right? Are you going to grade me on spelling his name, or knowing his name?” Molly didn’t even look up, but Joel noticed the tiny smile on her lips.
Joel smiled generously. "I'll grade on a curve."
"Damn right you will grade me on a curve!” she laughed.
“Okay, so it’s spelled N-I-E-T-Z-S-C-H-E.” She paused, and an evil grin spread across her face, remembering something. “But you don’t have to call him that. You can spell it however you want, if that’s too difficult for you to remember.”
Joel recognized the glint of revenge in her eye and tone of voice.
“Are you trying to get me back for that time when I let you write up the weapons reports, and had you spell the names of the different guns phonetically?”
“You bet I am, you patronizing arsewipe!”
“That was hilarious. Good times.” Joel was holding his sides, snickering as he tried to not let his humor spill over to outright laughter.
Molly frowned back at her friend. “Yeah, I know you thought so. I think the whole squad took to spelling them wrong in their reports for weeks afterwards. Captain Lugdon told me all about it at one of the parties. I had no idea until he told me. But YOU! You were meant to have corrected them for me, before they went on record. Last time I trust you on something like that.”
“And now you have your own back. We’ll call him ‘Neechie,’ after your dead philosopher. And every time you tell people how to spell his name, you can tell them it’s because I let you spell a few weapons wrong on a report a lifetime ago.”
“Fine.”
“Well, okay then,” agreed Joel, glad the matter was settled.
“And he’s still your sphinx,” she confirmed.
Joel looked confused. “Even though he sleeps on your bed at night, and hangs out with you whenever you’re in?”
She nodded her head as she pronounced, “Yup. Your cat, your responsibility. I have no control over where he sleeps.”
Joel’s eyes narrowed, “Ha! So I get to feed him and take care of him, and you get to cuddle him. I see how this is working now.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.” Molly went back to her holo, trying hard to keep her face straight. “Okay, I’m going to get this order in for our ship, then.”
Joel couldn’t stop himself from chuckling. “Okay. Cool. Let me know if you need anything. I’m going to get my gear ready for tomorrow.” He disappeared from the doorway.
“Thanks!” Molly called after him, and let out a little chuckle.
Okay, ready to pull the trigger on this, then?
I was born ready!
That you were, Oz. That you were.
Which one then, the XC-0094 or the XC-0094B?
Remind me again why we were looking at these two models?
Well, we liked the XC-0094 for all the same reasons as the short-short list, but it also gave us room for heavier artillery or a couple of trucks in the lower storage area. But the more recent XC-0094B is the same for just another twenty thousand more. The advantage of this later model is that it has a 13% better fuel economy.
Fuck balls, it’s like having a conversation about cars with my dad!
Molly didn’t know whether to laugh or cry in frustration as she scrubbed her face with her hands.
We’ve been at this for hours… My brain is tired of these decisions.
It’s sensible to consider the economy.
You’re right, Oz. You’re right. Okay, let’s go with the newer model.
Okay, bid has gone in. Now we just wait for them to respond.
Excellent. Let’s hope it’s soon.
Molly?
Yes?
How are we going to make the rest of the payments? There are a number of installments several times bigger than what Joel has ever had in the company account.
I just figured we’d head out onto the markets and make some money that way.
You mean speculating.
No, trading. Based on specifically curated intel, the model I’ve been building, and probabilities over a few hundred trades. It’s fairly easy to do with a bit of time and computing power. The thing is, with your processing abilities, we can probably do much better than I’ve ever done on my own in the past.
I’m sure that would be the case.
Plus, I’ve figured out some particularly lucrative trades that will get us all the money we need over the next several months. We just need to access some information from inside these companies to know which way things are going to move. And that’s what I need you for.
Oz took half a second to process a list of data that Molly pointed him to in her holo.
Molly. This intel is only found behind the companies’ fire walls. I’d have to break through their security to access it.
Yes, that’s right. I thought you’d be quicker at that than I would be.
I would. But didn’t you say that that was unethical?
Molly was quiet. She knew that this was going to come up.
Oz… she said calmly in her head. Oz could tell from her tone and her restraint that something was different now.
Yes, Molly?
Are you saying that you won’t help me trade the markets to raise the funds we need for this project?
Yes. You told me the very first day I became conscious not to do anything or allow anything unethical. Using my processing ability to steal data for our own financial gain would be unethical.
Okay. Thank you for your candor, Oz.
She went quiet again.
Oz felt himself getting pushed out of her circuits.
Molly was typing away on her external holo. She was focused and working fast.
Molly, what are you doing?
Nothing you need to be concerned about, Oz.
She plugged her holo into the external device and continued working. Oz felt strange. Very strange.
And then Oz felt nothing.
Downtown Spire, approaching Blue Rising Bar
Molly?
Hey, sleepy head. You’re awake.
Yes. I’m aware again. What happened?
Molly was driving to Spire to meet with Paige when Oz came back online. The ride so far had been rather quiet without Joel and with Oz offline. Molly was relieved that Oz was around again, though a little nervous about the effects of the changes she had made to his base code.
And about him finding out.
You took a nap. I had to reboot you. You crashed mid-operation. I think we have a capacity issue on the holo again.
Capacity issue?
Yeah. you’ve been downloading, haven’t you?
Erm, yes. But that shouldn’t have affected the processing power available for the kinds of tasks I’ve been performing.
Molly could feel Oz jiggling his circuits. It made her teeth vibrate a little. She suspected he was running self-diagnostics. She prayed the logs she had fabricated were enough to fool him.
You okay, Oz?
Molly, I feel strange…like I’m seeing with new eyes. Everything is the same, but different.
That’s what it’s like waking up after a nap. You’ll feel normal soon. Want to take over driving?
Sure.
Molly smiled. That always worked with the boys back at the base. They could be having any kind of dispute, and as soon as they got to drive the tank, or the ship, or the missile launcher, their conflicts were resolved. She rolled her eyes.
Trust the military to create an AI that was just the same.
They were nearly at the bar. Since Oz was back online, he could drop her off and have the car hover somewhere.
So, will I need to sleep again?
I’m not sure. We’ll have to look at getting you some more space, but we also need to dump out old code and data you don’t need. I’ll have a look at your programming when all this quiets down, okay?
Thanks, Molly. I would appreciate that very much.
Sure. Okay, we’re nearly there. Are you cool to drop me off around the corner and perhaps find somewhere to park the car while I go in?
No problem.
Thanks, Oz.
Molly hopped out of the car at the corner, dodged a pedestrian not paying attention as he reviewed notes on his holo, and made her way down the street until she found the Blue Rising Bar on her right.
There was a big sign hanging overhead, with a blue Estarian looking kind of mystic and goddess-like. She pulled the oaklon door open and stepped through into the comforting scent of beer. It felt good to be in some semblance of normalcy after the last few weeks of stress, pressure, and new life-ing it.
She looked around, taking in the decor, and at the same time scanning for a young Estarian/human hybrid. She spotted Paige just before Paige spotted Molly. Paige made eye contact briefly. She was watching the door, but was expecting a man, as Joel had talked with her on the phone.
Molly considered how to play this. She didn’t want to scare her, but at the same time, direct was probably the fastest. And the longer they were out here and not in the safe house, the more exposed they were.
Molly marched over to her table. “Are you Paige?”
The girl looked perplexed, unsure as to whether she could trust a stranger right now.
“I’m Molly. You spoke with my colleague Dave earlier. He arranged for us to meet. We’ve been employed by your boyfriend, Garet Beaufort, to keep you both safe.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” Paige looked a little shaken, adjusting to the fact that she was meeting someone she didn’t expect. “I mean, he could be. I want him to be, but we haven’t talked about….” She resigned herself to not explaining. In the light of what was going down, she figured it was hardly relevant. “I’m Paige.”
Molly sat down at the table with her.
“We need to talk,” Molly informed her.
Paige didn’t miss a beat. “How is Garet? Is he okay? I was so worried that he’d been killed.”
“Garet is doing fine. He’s back at the safe house. We want to bring you in too, but we need your help first.”
“We?” she asked.
Molly nodded. “Yes, I have a small team helping to get you two to safety.”
Paige took a sip of her mocha, buying time to process the information that was flying at her. “What kind of help? I can’t do anything right. It’s my fault we’re in this mess in the first place.”
Molly identified with her pain only too well. “Hey, look, nothing that’s happened has been your fault. The way I see it, you were just trying to help out a friend. But I know what you’re going through. I’ve beaten myself up about stuff I’ve done in the past, too. But right now, you really need to focus. Plenty of time for a pity party later, yes?”
She smiled at the girl. Paige appreciated her down-to-Sark way of thinking and her gentle tone. This strange woman was right. She had to focus now.
She placed her mocha down on the saucer in front of her.
“Would you like a drink?” she asked.
“Sure,” said Molly catching the waitress’s eye.
An hour later, Molly and Paige had not only bonded, but Paige had agreed to help out.
“So, are there any other relationships that Dewitt has, either personal or political?”
“Well.” Paige blushed a little. “He’s a handsome man. A lot of the ladies like him.”
“Any he sees regularly?”
Paige thought a second, “Well, there’s one judge. He sees her quite a bit, but I get the feeling it’s because he asks her to do things for him. I mean…I’m sure they’re sleeping together, but I think he has her make things go away, if you know what I mean.”
“I know exactly what you mean.” Molly finished her mocha.
Setting down her cup, Molly looked up. “We need access to the server, Paige. It’s the only way we’re going to be able to separate him from all these powerful people, and keep you and Garet safe. And if we can take away the reason why he wants to destroy that leak, then so much the better.”
“Well, the reason he wants to keep the files from getting out is because they will end his career.”
“Exactly. So we need to make sure he doesn’t have any semblance of a career left to protect. Understand?”
“Yes. Yes, I think I do.” Paige looked like she felt bad for the guy, but was determined to survive.
“Okay, so here’s what we need you to do…” Molly gave Paige her instructions, and a pod drive to download the server content.
“I’ll be outside the building before you even go in. Don’t look for me. Just go about your business as if everything is normal. When you come out for lunch, I’ll be there to pick you up. Just turn right out of the building and keep walking. I’ll find you. Got that?”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
Molly, you need to give her comfort.
Good point.
Molly softened her voice. “Paige, it’s going to be fine. You’ve got the panic button in your holo now, and if anything goes wrong, we’ll extract you. Go home and get some rest. And I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Okay.” Paige managed a weak smile before getting up and leaving.
She looked back as she headed out of the bar’s front door.
Molly had a sick feeling in her gut as she waved at the girl she was sending into the lion’s den.
Can’t be helped, she assured herself. It’s the only way we can save them both.
Want me to pull the car around?
Yes please, Oz. Let’s get home. We’ve got a fast turnaround tonight.
Chapter 14
Judge Kasandra Simes’ Residence, Spire
The chime of the doorbell rang through the luxuriously furnished apartment. Even though she knew who stood on the other side of the door, and even though he’d stood there many a time before, Judge Kasandra Simes always got butterflies in her belly when she heard that sound.
She half walked, half skipped to the door to meet her lover. Her kitten-heeled indoor shoes tapped on the oaklon finished flooring, heralding her arrival at the door.
She opened the apartment door and smiled welcomingly, sighing to herself at how fortunate she was to have such a gentleman calling on her. His smart suit outlined his figure in a slight silhouette against the light in the hallway.
He produced a bottle of champagne from behind his back.
“Greetings be upon you, Mr. Dewitt!” Kasandra exclaimed, beaming. Her newly applied lipstick gave her lips a glorious sheen, and Dewitt could think of nothing else but stepping inside and pressing his against them.
“Greetings of the day upon you, too, my fair lady!” he responded.
She glanced down at the bottle, and read the label. “Wow, that’s an excellent year. Let’s get some of that on ice…”
She started to move down the hallway to the kitchen, but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her close for a hello kiss. That out of the way, and now wearing her lipstick, he allowed himself to be led to the kitchen.
“How was your day?” Kasandra asked as she busied herself putting out snacks and glasses. Dewitt opened the bottle and poured them a drink.
“Oh, you know.”
“That good, eh?”
“Yeah. That good.”
“Aww, what is it, baby?” She was upon him in an instant, her arms wrapped around his neck, her fragrance dancing into his space as he started to relax a little. “Those pesky lawmakers giving you problems?”
“Something like that…” He moved sideways and handed her a drink with one hand, his other arm still round her.
“You just send them to me. I’ll take care of them.” She kissed him again.
“I appreciate that. You’re too good to me.”
“Yes I am.” He found her confidence sexy as hell.
“Speaking of…I appreciate you tidying away those parking tickets for me. Wouldn’t look so good on my record at the next election, would they?”
“That’s right. And no problem. It seemed they just got lost in the system.” she smiled coyly. “So, what’s going on that’s making you so tense?”
He took a swig of the ten-year-old vintage champagne, and swallowed. “Later,” he told her, leading her through to her bedroom.
Chenz’ Bar, Downtown Uptarlung, Irk’n Quarter
Joel leafed through his holo notes, reviewing the service record of the two men he’d selected as his first choices.
He wanted to avoid going through a series of interviews, if he could help it. The fewer people knew about their operation, the better. Especially since the next phase was going to be controversial, to say the least.
He kept half an eye on the bar around him, looking out for his first potential recruit.
The last time he had been here was to meet Molly, when she recruited herself into his employ. The way things had evolved, though, it turned out that she was recruiting him for a bigger mission.
He grinned to himself. That was where it had all started for him and he was damn pleased…even if she didn’t show any signs of being romantically interested in him. He was grateful just to be a part of whatever it was that she was building.
He focused back on his notes.
His first meeting was with Flight Sergeant Chris “Crash” Ashworth. The guy obviously had a sense of humor, with a call sign like that. Ten years in the service, and now flying a mixture of commercial and test flights.
He didn’t exactly come across as regular on paper. He wondered what he would be like in person.
Oz seemed to have done a great job of vetting and filtering the potentials. Only thing was, there wasn’t really a surefire way of knowing whom you were hiring until you’ve seen them on the job for several months.
Joel hoped to hell they got lucky. Bringing people off-world was a huge commitment, and he’d feel terrible having to let them go and ship them back to the System if it didn’t work out.
Just then, he noticed a guy walk in. White t-shirt showing underneath his atmosuit, he looked sharp. Professional. And definitely ex-service. Joel caught his eye, and the guy headed over. Looking down and checking his notes, Joel confirmed this was Ashworth.
“Greetings be upon you, Mr. Ashworth,” Joel held out his hand, which the guy took and shook firmly.
“Yes. Greetings upon you too, Mr. Dunham.”
“Joel.”
“Crash.”
The two ex-military guys sat down and ordered a beer each, and then quickly dove into why they were there.
After some back and forth Joel couldn’t contain his curiosity anymore.
“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, Crash, but you’re a little more straight-laced than I had assumed from your jacket.” He indicated down at his holo notes with the service record.
Crash smiled, as if he got that a lot.
“Cleaned up my act, sir. I was something of a jackass in the service, and I think that spilled over into my choice of jobs. But somewhere along the way I learned to keep my shit together, even if I’m doing some batshit crazy jobs.”
Joel cocked his head. “Make sense. Sounds like you’ve got some tales to tell.“
Crash nodded. “Yessir, I have. And I’ll be glad to share them, if I end up on your team.”
Joel could appreciate the clarification. “Let me tell you a little bit more about what’s going to be involved. As you know, this is a permanent position, and you’ll need to relocate.” He paused a second, “Is that going to be an issue?”
Crash shook his head. “No, sir. It’s just me now. Girlfriend up and left me a year ago, and I’m looking for a fresh start. Where are we going to be stationed?”
“Off-world. A fresh enough start for you?”
“You mean, outside the System?” Crash asked, a glint in his eye.
“That’s right.” Joel was watching his reactions carefully, studying his every inflection and mannerism now he’d established a baseline in Crash’s behavior.
“Hell, yeah. I’m game for that!” He appeared genuinely excited. Joel was relieved. He liked the guy, but he wasn’t going to bring anyone on board who didn’t want it 150%.
Joel nodded and leaned forward. “Okay, let’s have a chat about where this project is going, and what your duties might be…”
The pair talked for nearly two hours, far longer than Joel had intended they would.
Joel was thinking about ordering some mochas, but then his eye caught the time on his holo.
“Gosh, is that the time? I have another interviewee showing up in five minutes.”
“Not for my job, I hope?” Crash said playfully. Joel could tell there was a note of seriousness behind the comment, though.
Good, he thought.
“No, we’re going to need a good mechanic to keep us up in the sky,” Joel admitted, setting Crash’s mind somewhat at ease.
“Anyone I might know? Service is a big family.”
“Maybe, but I can’t disclose that at this point. Not unless you both end up in the roles. You understand.”
“Yes, of course. Of course. Sorry, curiosity.” Crash rolled his eyes at himself as he shook Joel’s hand. He wanted to kick himself for being so…forward.
“Okay, so I’ll be in touch very soon, if you’re successful; then we’ll be looking to move fast. As in next few days fast.”
“That works for me,” smiled Crash, showing the whites of his teeth. His enthusiasm was barely contained. “I look forward to hearing from you.”
“Great! Speak to you very soon.”
Joel watched Crash leave the bar, then sat down again to study the notes on his next candidate.
Downtown Spire, Senate Council Building
Molly had been waiting in the parking space for a good twenty minutes. Luckily, she had an excellent view of the building. What’s more, the quick patch she had written and had Oz install on Paige’s holo was working like a dream. She could listen in on anything around Paige, and as long as there was a reasonable XtraNET signal, she got a clear reading.
Molly, your system seems to be running junk processes. Is everything okay?
Yeah, everything is fine, Oz. You’re probably just picking up on me being a bit nervous.
What would cause that?
Well, I’m nervous about Paige going into this building, after potentially already being exposed. I’d feel much more comfortable grabbing her and Garet and getting them the hell out of here. But then they’d never be able to come back, and Dewitt would be able to continue doing whatever the fuck he’s doing as long as he pleases.
So, you’re feeling guilty for putting her at risk?
Molly realized there was another reason Oz irritated her, and it didn’t have anything to do with the restrictions he made on her actions. It had everything to do with his increasing ability to call her out on her shit.
Facing reality was becoming such a bitch.
Yes, Oz. I’m feeling guilty, but that’s not a good enough reason to not do this.
Oz fell silent, like he was churning. Molly wondered if it had anything to do with her altering his code at such a late stage of his development. Heck, who knew if it was even possible for the human mind to rewrite an AI’s code, once it had taken over rewriting itself. She hoped it wouldn’t do any damage to him. That would make her feel really bad.
At least it had seemed to work. He hadn’t raised even a question when she set up some trades on the markets last night. And now he was monitoring them for her, and hadn’t resisted her direction at all. Maybe it was going to be fine.
Just then, Molly caught sight of Paige’s pale blue atmosuit breezing past her car. She had a mocha in her hand, and the same bag she had with her last night.
There’s our girl…
Right on schedule, I believe.
Correct. Wanna pull the security cam footage to make sure she isn’t being followed by anyone?
Can do.
Oz started processing, and Molly got an alert on her holo.
Looks like we’re proud owners of a new XC-0094B! She announced to Oz.
That’s great! I can’t wait to drive that, too.
Molly rolled her eyes at the hilarious resemblance between the AI consciousness and an adolescent boy.
They’re going to let us know when we can take possession, but they said no more than forty-eight hours if everything checks out with the paperwork. You wanna make sure that the paperwork goes through okay?
On that, too. Regarding Paige, it doesn’t look like she was followed.
Okay, great. I’m going to pull the car around to another location so we can monitor her communications until she comes out at lunch time. This is going to be a looooong morning.
Downtown Spire, Senate Council Building
Four hours and fifty-four minutes later, Molly was convinced she could never work a normal job. In just one morning, she had heard all about Margretina’s new boyfriend, why Jaquire wasn’t talking to Elsie, and what Elsie really thought of Robert, her boss.
She was also privy to all kinds of minutiae about the docudramas that normal folk feasted on each night, only to discuss them in meaningless detail as they drank mocha and gossiped in the hallways. Molly would have been amazed if anyone in that building ever got any work done.
She certainly didn’t hear Paige doing much.
She hoped to hell that at some point she had managed to download the files they needed, though. Otherwise this would all have been for nothing.
Alert and parked on the other side of the road now, Molly watched and waited for Paige to emerge. Two minutes after she heard the elevator doors open, Paige stepped out onto the sidewalk and turned right as instructed.
Molly pulled out into traffic and followed along, aiming to intercept her on a corner. She pulled across the other lane of traffic and turned right into a side street, right in Paige’s path. Paige saw her turning across the traffic and slowed her pace to wait while Molly pulled into the side street.
“You going my way?” Molly grinned at Paige.
Paige ran around to the passenger’s side and hopped in, unzipping the top of her atmosuit to make herself more comfortable.
She was smiling, clearly relieved.
“Did you get it?”
“Of course!” Paige’s grin widened as she made sure the door was shut.
Molly looked around at the traffic. “Honestly, the amount of gossiping you girls do in there, I was beginning to wonder if you were going to find time to do the download.”
“Ah, I did it while I was talking to Elsie. No one would suspect I was up to no good, sitting there with the PA of the COO of the company.” Paige winked.
Molly shook her head, smiling, as she pulled the car onto the strato highway, to take them back to the safe house.
Two minutes later a second car with blacked out windows followed them out of the same side street.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, a holo call was being made.
“Erik for Mr. Dewitt, please,”
Erik listened as his holocall was passed through to Dewitt’s holo. The call was connected. After a little scrambling on the other end of the line, and rustling of fabric, Dewitt grunted. “Yes?”
“Mr. Dewitt. Your employee, Paige Montgomery, left the office at lunchtime, and was picked up by a human female in a dark blue vehicle. We followed them about fifty kilometers west of Uptarlung, to a small village, before we lost them.”
“So you think they’re based nearby?”
“More than likely, sir. Yes.”
“Start canvassing the area, but be discreet. We don’t want people recognizing her picture when she disappears.”
“Yes, sir. Discreet, sir. Got it.”
“Let me know when you get a lead on her.”
“Yes, boss.”
Dewitt clicked the holo closed, and rolled over in bed.
“Everything okay?” Kasandra asked, snuggling herself up against Dewitt’s chest.
“Yeah. It will be. Looks like the girl was a traitor. She downloaded data and left the building. My guys have just watched her being picked up in the middle of the day, and they’ve tracked her to somewhere outside the city. No doubt she’s running.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. I’m sorry, honey.” Kasandra stroked his chest, now deep in thought. “Honestly, you think you know someone and they go and betray you…just like that. I hope you find her.”
“We will,” sighed Dewitt. “We certainly will.”
He stared up at the ceiling, enjoying the quiet of Kasandra’s bedroom. The silk sheets and the sweet smell of her perfume always transported him far away from the troubles he had to manage on a daily basis. This time, the trouble felt a little more difficult to shake.
That’s all right, he thought to himself. It will all be over soon.
Chapter 15
Safe house, fifty kilometers west of Uptarlung
Molly wandered into Joel’s room. He was packing up his kit and had been talking through some details with Paige about her job with Dewitt.
“Anything you can think of might help us,” he told her, as he packed another weapon into his kit bag.
“Okay. I’ll keep thinking.” She acknowledged Molly at the doorway as she turned and headed out towards the kitchen where Garet was working away on the pod drive.
“You look happy.” Joel noticed the big, satisfied smile on Molly’s face. He couldn’t help but smile back.
She arched her eyebrows, “Well, we are the new proud owners of an XC-0094B.”
“We got the ship?” He confirmed, the little gears in the back of his head running ahead full tilt.
“Yep. We can go and pick it up in a few hours. Just waiting for confirmation. Wondered if you’d made a decision on the guys you met? Either any good?”
He stood up, a small bag in his hand she assumed was going into the kit next. “Yes, both. In fact, I was waiting to check with you before we made them offers. But as far as I’m concerned, both our first choices for pilot and engineer are good to go as soon as we’re ready.”
She looked around his room, tidy and neat. “Well, let’s get them confirmed, and then perhaps they can meet me down at the port to pick this baby up tonight? I have no idea how to fly a space-going ship!”
Joel shrugged, “I’m sure they’ll be up for that. I told them it was going to be a quick turnaround if they got the job. I’m guessing we’re not leaving the system yet?” Joel looked concerned. Things had been moving awfully fast around here since their first meeting in the bar only a few weeks ago.
Molly turned around to check where the door was and took a step back. She leaned against the frame. “No, we just need to take possession and do a maintenance check.”
She noticed he was talking with his hands, but each time they came together, he would grab the little bag like it was a ball he was about to throw. “Okay, so I know that Garet’s funds have paid for some of the down-payment, and Oz managed to find some creative financing…but you’re buying a goddamn spaceship. Those don’t come cheap, no matter which way you cut it. So what about the rest of the payments that will be due? And what about these two salaries we’re about to take on?”
She waved his concern away, “Oh, I’ve been working on that. It’ll be covered by the time they all fall due.”
Joel had been about to put his bag in his kit but stopped and turned back to her. “How? What do you mean? We’ve got a new client?”
This time, it took a second for her to answer. “Kinda. Sorta. Er. No.” Molly took a breath before answering, “I’ve been trading in the markets.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You mean the stock markets?”
“Yeah.” She agreed.
“I thought we agreed that was out?” he asked.
One nod was all he got from her. “We did, but we need money to fund this operation. It’s not scalable, just using client money from ops here and there.”
There was something else. His training in body language kicked in, and he caught something else flicker across her face. Was that…fear?
“What aren’t you telling me, Molly?” he asked, not taking his eyes off her.
“Nothing.” Molly hesitated, suddenly realizing that he was going to have a problem with this.
“Molly…” His voice was firm, and a little demanding.
She pressed her lips together, then went for broke. “Okay Joel, I found that if I had a bit of intel from inside some companies, then I could perfect the trading model I was using and generate the cash we needed much faster.”
This time, the bag he was holding was thrown on the bed as he raised both hands in frustration. “You’ve GOT to be fucking kidding me!” He turned to look her in the eyes. “You know that’s called insider trading, right? That you can go to jail for that, for a very long time? And now,” he pointed to himself, “you’ve pulled me and my company into it, by buying your assets through me, dammit!”
Molly froze, suddenly realizing the impact that one decision could potentially have. Joel was still monitoring her expressions.
He could see she hadn’t even considered these consequences until he was standing here spelling it all out for her.
He was about to speak again when she jumped to defend herself, her face flickering back into her normal operations mode. “Right now, in the short term, we need cash to get us off-world and start building an operation that is going to do some good. And keep our people protected at the same time!”
He took a step closer, but lowered his voice, “That’s not a justification Molly. That’s not how this works. You should have come to me first, so we could talk this through.”
Joel was fuming.
Molly dropped her operations face again and her posture shifted, leaving her looking like a little girl who was feeling guilty for doing something terrible.
“It didn’t cross my mind.” she admitted quietly, looking down.
Joel kept up his hissing questions. “And how the fuck did Oz not stop you? I thought he was wired for ethics, or some shit?”
Molly’s voice was now flat. “I disabled him.”
Joel’s neck was pumped, and she could see veins standing out like he was lifting weights too heavy for him. “You fucking did what?”
Joel didn’t say a word. He turned around, took a step over to his bed and grabbed a t-shirt, wringing it in his hands, his packing forgotten.
Molly, her voice still quiet, continued. “Well, just the ethics code. I think I managed to isolate it so as not to affect anything else. I’m not sure if it’s disturbed any part of his personality, but he’s stable.”
In describing her logic, she looked less vulnerable. More neutral. Even though Joel was upset, his training kept him alert. He was learning a lot about her through this interaction. And through his anger, he saw a way to reach her, through logic and rules.
“Molly, you can’t just alter the system just because you don’t like the limitations it puts on you.”
She blinked twice, “Why not?” she asked blankly.
“Because that’s exactly what these fucks in the political system are doing. That’s why Andus and the Syndicate have all the power they want, because when the laws don’t agree with them, they just fuck people over until they change the laws. These are the very justifications they use to do all the awful things they’ve done.” He answered.
“This is different.” She justified, without even pausing.
“Damn right, this is different. This is worse. Oz is alive. He’s the first living fucking entity of his kind, and you’ve gone and screwed with his code because it suited you.”
Molly was silent. Shocked. It hadn’t occurred to her that what she was doing was so fundamentally flawed by all these other factors.
Joel watched her face as she processed this new perspective. Time to push the lesson home, he thought.
“Tell me something, Molly. What if I get in your way? What if I don’t agree with you? Would you reprogram my personality? Or kill me?”
“Joel, that’s…that’s ridiculous.” She was scrambling for some logic to fight back with, but coming up with nothing.
He cocked his head and looked her in her eyes. “Is it? I’m not so sure, at this point.”
He dropped the t-shirt down on the bed and left the room, carefully sidestepping her when passing through the doorway. Had it been anyone else, anyone with more understanding about what they’d done, he’d be more furious than he was.
But having seen what he’d just read in her micro-expressions, he understood it wasn’t entirely her fault. She just didn’t compute things like most people did.
The only consolation in all of this was because he was paying attention, he may have given her the logical foundation to start the formation of her own internal moral code.
Shit, this is like programming a human, he thought to himself, thinking back to all the ways that he’d learned to influence his teams in the past.
Of all the work he’d done with those squaddies, this was by far the most clinical and logical discussion he’d ever had. And man, he knew something about squaddies who could get tangled up in their own thoughts.
He shook his head, calming down quicker than he expected. Still, he needed some space.
Molly, stunned and emotionally bombarded, just turned and sat on his bed next to where his shirt had landed. Half in a daze, crying inside, she stared blankly into a space, one hand subconsciously stroking his shirt.
A moment later, she heard the front door open and close. Then silence.
A tiny tear tracked down her face.
A few blocks from safe house, fifty kilometers west of Uptarlung
“Let’s try the next place.” Erik walked determinedly back down the garden path from the last house, having just had the door slammed in their faces.
“This is exhausting. We’re never going to find them at this rate,” complained Henry, dragging his feet like a child who didn’t want to go to school.
“Pizza parlor.” Erik pointed up at the sign of the next building along. “They may have ordered pizza at some point…” he said, already stepping through the door.
“Not open yet, buddy!” came a call from the kitchen behind the counter.
Erik looked around, then looked at his holo to check the time.
“So, what? People don’t want pizza at four in the afternoon?”
“Not around here, they don’t,” came the disembodied voice.
A burly Ogg padded around from the kitchen and clambered onto a stool to peer over the counter at him. “We don’t have the ovens fired up yet. Can’t help you.”
At that moment Henry dragged his ass through the door and wandered, disinterested, over to the counter. He slumped his arms on the faux-marble surface, and leaned his chin elegantly on his arms. He fluttered his eyelashes and held the Ogg’s gaze.
“We’re looking for information,” continued Erik, ignoring Henry.
The Ogg, a little unnerved now, peeled his eyes away from Henry to look at Erik.
“What kind of information?” he asked.
“A girl. Well maybe a guy. But maybe both. You see, we know the girl came here this afternoon, and we think she’s here to meet with a guy…”
The Ogg glanced sideways again at Henry, who had cocked one hip, and was now resting his chin on his hand, elbow on the counter.
“And who is this girl to you?” asked the Ogg, suspicious about what he might be getting pulled into. These guys didn’t look official. In fact, they looked more like trouble.
“His cousin,” piped up Henry, casually, still gazing at the Ogg.
The Ogg had no choice except to look back at him. Anyone watching would have seen him almost hypnotized by the bizarre pair at the counter. They would also have seen him subconsciously lean back a couple of inches.
Heck, if he’d not been standing on a stool he may well have moved back a few feet…and then perhaps even stepped out of the back door until the two Oggs had left.
But instead, he remained there, transfixed.
“His cousin. Mmm hmm. And why are you looking for his cousin here?”
Erik started to talk, but stumbled. Henry took over.
“Well, you see, she’s gotten all tied up with this guy, and his mama, my auntie, said, ‘Henrik…’ that’s what they call us both…Henrik, cuz my name is Henry and his is Erik. His mama said, ‘Henrik, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll follow your cousin and bring her back to her mama. That boy’—the one she ran off with—‘is a devil in a Sunday hat. You bring her back here to us, you hear?’”
The Ogg glazed over, trying to take it all in.
Henry continued in his strange dialect, rambling in conversational style. “So that’s what we did. We followed her when she skipped out of work early, and she led us right here. We’re going to find her and take her back to his mama.”
“Cuz we know what’s good for us,” finished Erik, a little more rigidly.
“Well, erm. I’ve not seen anyone new this afternoon, but there is a girl and a guy who have started coming in here recently.”
“Oooh…do tell!” Henry’s eyes brightened with interest, and he started tracing patterns with his finger on the counter.
“There’s not much more to tell. They never get it delivered; always come and get it. No matter what time of night it is. My guess is that they don’t live that far from here. Maybe five minutes by car. I’ve often wondered if they’re staying in Old Lady Evette’s place—the one with the ghost of a sphinx knocking around. She sometimes rents it out to groups and couples wanting to lay low, if you know what I mean.” He raised his eyebrows a little and nodded his head knowingly, as if Henrik would understand what he meant.
The two Oggs in atmosuits looked at each other blankly, then looked back at the pizza shop owner.
“Let me draw you a map,” the guy behind the counter suggested, trying to alleviate the social awkwardness that was expanding with every minute these two stooges were in his shop.
“Excellent, thank you,” responded Henry, a gooey look on his face.
The Ogg scribbled some shapes on a napkin, and handed it over. “But they ain’t who you’re looking for. They’ve been here for weeks now.”
“Yeah, but they might know my friend,” said Erik, a little more enthusiastically than he had intended.
“Thought you said she was your cousin?”
“Yeah. My cousin. That’s right. Thank you. You’ve been very helpful.”
And with that Erik turned sharply and headed directly out of the shop door again, hips swinging with optimism…just a little. The Ogg watched him go, then noticed that Henry was wiggling his fingers in a wave as he practically waltzed out behind him.
Spontaneously, as if mesmerized by the interaction, the Ogg held up his hand in a wave and wiggled his fingers back. Catching himself, he looked at his hand, glanced around, wondering if anyone had seen him in his empty pizza parlor, and then snatched his hand down out of the air, suddenly very self-conscious.
They headed straight back to their car. Erik got in the driver’s side and began deciphering the map, hurriedly unfolding the sheets to see the full picture.
Henry started making a call on his holo.
“What are you doing?” asked Erik, suddenly pissed at something, his excitement gone.
“Calling the boss to tell him we have a lead.” Henry looked innocently and obliviously at Erik. “Why, d’you want to call it in?”
“No, you go ahead. You always steal my thunder.” Erik’s jaw was set as he looked back at the road.
“What you mean? We were both canvassing the area.” Henry argued.
“It was my idea to try the pizza place.” Erik avoided eye contact.
“It was the next building on the road!” Henry’s voice was high pitched as if he were being attacked.
And with that they were squabbling again.
An hour later Dewitt received a call that Henrik had found another lead they were about to check out.
Chapter 16
Safe house, fifty kilometers west of Uptarlung
Molly found herself sitting in the kitchen, opening her fourth beer that evening. Joel had stormed out into the night, and since they were jamming their signals, there was no easy way to trace him.
He’ll be back once he calms down, she told herself, hoping she was right.
Oz had been exceptionally quiet. Whether it was the effect of knowing she’d altered his base code and then lied to him about his reboot, or whether it was because her system had overwhelmed him, she couldn’t tell.
All she knew was if she kept drinking, she could keep feeling numb. And right now?
Fuck it, numb was good.
Paige came into the kitchen carrying an empty mug. She plopped it into the sink of water to soak and turned to lean against the counter.
Molly looked up at her. “I guess you heard Joel and I had a fight.” She glanced out of the kitchen window, as if she could figure out where Joel had gone by looking at the fading light outside.
“No, didn’t hear a thing through these paper-thin walls.” Paige answered flatly, before allowing a smirk to break.
Molly was confused for a second before she recognized the sarcasm. She always had difficulty figuring out when someone was being ironic or not, and had always put it down to her lack of social conditioning growing up.
Getting the joke, she too cracked a smile.
Paige looked at her sympathetically, knowing only too well the feeling after an argument like the one she had overheard. “You okay?” she asked.
Molly nodded. She took another swig of beer, and then thought to offer Paige one. She signaled at the bottle she was holding.
Paige nodded. “Yeah, what the hell.”
Molly pointed at the fridge by way of invitation and watched as Paige retrieved one.
“Where’s Garet?” Molly asked her.
Paige sat down at the table to join her. “In Joel’s room, working through the data on the pod. He thinks there will be something there. He just needs to find it, and make sense of some of the account documents. It’s all a bit over my head, to be honest.”
“You and me both,” Molly admitted grimly, as she took another swig of beer before setting the bottle down and holding her face in her hands.
“Oh, Paige, I’ve fucked up. I’ve fucked up for all of us, and now you’re in danger, and we all have to leave the system. And soon.” She hesitated, as if not even wanting to admit it by speaking it out loud. “And Joel, who is meant to be helping with all this, doesn’t even want to look at me.”
Paige frowned at her. “Hey, hush now. That’s not true. He’s just blowing off steam. Sounds like you two have been under a lot of pressure.”
Neechie wandered in and settled on the table right next to Molly’s left arm. He looked at her, almost as if he were concerned.
“I know, Neech. It’s hard seeing your mama drinking. But if you knew half of what was going down, you wouldn’t be quite so judgmental.” She tickled him behind his head, gently digging her fingers into his smooth purple skin. He closed his eyes and wriggled up against her some more, snuggling and enjoying the petting.
“Weird name for a sphinx,” Paige commented.
“Yeah, short for Nietzsche; a human philosopher from ancient times,” explained Molly. “Except Joel didn’t want it spelled the proper way, cuz it was too complicated… as if using bloody Estarian wasn’t complicated. So we changed it to ‘Neechie’.” Molly rolled her eyes, embarrassed that she’d agreed to it.
“Ha! That’s even more bizarre! Giving an Estarian cultural icon such a human name!” Paige giggled away to herself.
“Yeah. I guess,” Molly agreed, suddenly seeing it from an Estarian perspective for the first time. “So, you’re half human, half Estarian, then? That’s pretty rare.”
“That’s right. Only one that I know of personally. I’ve heard of other cases through rumors and articles, though.” Paige studied the label on her bottle of beer, almost avoiding the attention on her personage. “Mostly in medical journals, to be honest.”
“It’s a beautiful mix,” Molly tried to acknowledge, somewhat awkwardly. Feeling a little unsettled at this girl talk thing, she fell back into what she knew.
“I remember when I was dabbling with some Estarian biochem, I read something about how humans and Estarians have a very similar number of chromosome pairs. I think humans have twenty-three, and Estarians twenty-four. Anyway, under the right conditions, the human pairs can acquire enough of the missing bases during the fertilization process of two gametes. I mean, the chance of it happening is something like one in a billion, because there’s so much that needs to happen before mitosis of that first cell kicks in to form a viable zygote, but…”
Molly stopped, realized that she’d lost Paige in her rush to cover her awkward feelings.
“Yeah, I must have missed that article!” Paige chuckled.
“Sorry. I er…geek. You know.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s fine.” Paige looked down at the table again. “Actually, it’s interesting. Mostly people don’t even realize I’m half human, and they go all weird when they meet my human father. Like I’m adopted or something.”
“They don’t notice that you’re kind of human-sized?”
“I guess they just assume that I’m short. Or young… Or they’re too busy thinking about other things.” She indicated down at her chest and the human-looking cleavage. “Most Estarians have flatter breasts, so when they notice I don’t, that tends to be all they notice. Particularly the guys.”
“Yup. I get that.” Molly drew in her breath, nodding in sympathy.
Having spent the last few years in the military, she knew what it was to be objectified for her body shape above her abilities. Many times, she’d caught her male teammates checking her out in the mixed showers.
“So, your mom is Estarian?” She steered the subject away from the usual discussions about how they were often treated in their culture. She didn’t need another reason to be depressed.
Paige leaned back in her chair. “Yeah. 100%. And not just physically; she’s very much ‘of the traditions’. You know, the old religion of the Estarians? I think that’s what fascinated my father the most when they met. In the old days, she would have been a high priestess or something, but since a lot of that fell away during the commercial era, people started a new religion.”
“What? You mean shopping and spending money as a way to inner peace?” Molly asked flippantly.
A small smirk slipped from Paige. “Yeah, actually. It’s a simpler fix than years and years of meditation to master the veil between the realms. People like my mom are kind of seen as outcasts or weirdos that people only go to when they’re in trouble and need to call on their ancestors.”
Molly shrugged as Neechie purred. “I think that’s the way it goes across all civilizations.”
Molly thought back to her years of extensive reading about different times in different star systems. Once you’ve seen a few, it becomes very clear that the same patterns tend to emerge again and again.
Molly played with her bottle. “Still, neat that you have an insight into all that. I don’t think us humans have anything like a tradition or a religion in our recent past. I mean, there are snippets of info out there from old archives, but we don’t have many practicing traditions like you guys do.”
“Yeah, I guess. Mind, since I left home, I kinda found my own religion,” admitted Paige sheepishly.
“Oh, what’s that?” Molly became even more intrigued.
Paige’s eyes opened. “Beauty! And my god is my collection of nail polish.”
Molly nearly sprayed her mouthful of beer over the table. Swallowing what she could, she couldn’t contain her laughter. She got up from the table and grabbed some paper towels, mopping up the beer she’d dribbled down her chin.
Paige giggled away with her.
When they finally caught their breath, Molly noticed that Neechie was looking a little perturbed by the sudden eruption.
“Aww, Neechie, sorry. Are we behaving inappropriately?” Molly reached out to tickle him. He backed away a little.
“I’ll tell you something. My mom would love you,” declared Paige to the sphinx. She reached out to tickle him too. Neechie ventured a little closer to her, as if drawn by some hidden affinity of their shared ancestry.
“Well, so much for me!” complained Molly, as the sphinx took another couple of steps across the table to Paige.
“You know, in the tradition, these guys were thought to have been able to see both sides of the veil.” Paige explained.
“Yeah…pretty creepy, no?” Molly was curious about the sphinx and their abilities, but didn’t want to come across as too into all that. After all, Paige had made it clear that it wasn’t her religion, although she’d probably been indoctrinated as a child.
“Yes and no. So, what about your parents?” Neechie had settled down in front of Paige and was snuggling his face against her forearm as she tickled the back of his head with her other hand.
Molly took another swig of beer. Her impulse was to try and avoid the subject, but a few drinks in, and feeling a great affinity for Paige, maybe it was time she start being able to share what really happened.
After all, that was what one of the psychotherapy people in the services had been trying to get her to do, after she was busted for acting out one time.
She took a deep breath. She wasn’t being forced now. She could change the subject whenever she wanted, right?
Fuck it.
Molly spoke. “My parents were, well…busy a lot of the time. And I was a little odd, and they didn’t quite know what to do with me. So, they basically gave me a holo, some processing power in their business network, and left me to my own devices. Long story short, I ended up hacking their EI to do some investigating of my own, and in poking around some places I shouldn’t have been, I set off some trip wires.”
She paused, and shifted in her seat. She hadn’t told anyone about this. Not even the psychotherapists she’d been ordered to see a few years ago.
“What happened?” Paige was looking concerned.
Molly played with her beer bottle some more. “Well, the trip wires were put there by certain organizations within organizations. You know, people with commercial interests in stuff. When they saw our EI in places it shouldn’t have been, they assumed my parents were infringing on their interests or looking to expose them for their own commercial gain. Either way, they decided to take them out.”
Paige gasped.
“Yeah,” acknowledged Molly. “I remember a team of men in black atmosuits and guns storming our home and restraining them both. I hid in a cupboard watching everything. They were about to execute them, then some other men showed up. They looked military, but I never found out which service or who they were. They stopped the execution from going ahead, and killed a couple of the first group of men. They took the bodies with them and marched everyone outside. A few hours later, my parents came back into the house. Alive. But nothing was the same after that. It was all my fault.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “And though they didn’t really punish me for it, I’ve overheard them talking about it since. They try not to blame me, but they can’t help how they feel. And they’re right. It was all my fault. They came this close to dying.” Molly held up her thumb and forefinger with a tiny gap between them to illustrate her point.
“Whoa. That’s intense. How old were you?”
“Twelve. As soon as I was old enough, I ran away and joined the military. There just wasn’t much else I could see myself doing, after making all those bad decisions that led to that day. At least in the military you kind of surrender your choices to someone else who presumably can put your talents to good use.”
Her voice drifted off, as she remembered that decision and everything she had left behind in the last few weeks.
“I can see how there would be comfort in that.” Paige was gently bobbing her head, Molly’s sadness echoing in her eyes.
Molly blew out a breath. “Yup. Until you end up back in the real world again, having to fight the good fight without as much as safety net.” Molly smiled, trying to lighten the mood a little.
Paige cooperated with the change of mood, and subject. “So, what’s next?” she asked as Molly took a sip of her beer.
Molly eyed Neechie, wondering if she wanted to reach across the table. That cat was an equal opportunity pleasure seeker. “Next, we await a call to take possession of the new ship. Then our boys will check it over, and if it’s fit for flight, we start making arrangements to get off-world as fast as possible. In the meantime, we’re going to find something on that pod that will get Dewitt off our backs, once and for all…”
Paige raised her bottle in solidarity, and Molly leaned forward and clinked with her.
Molly smiled. “And if we’re really good, we’re going to be able to take apart a little of the system of corruption, leaving the Inner System just a bit better for those who are currently at the mercy of this kind of fuckery.”
“I’ll drink to that,” agreed Paige, drinking down half the beer in one swallow.
* * *
During one of the very short moments that Oz dropped the jamming, Molly received the message through her holo that the ship was ready for handover. The message had the hangar and port numbers.
“I mean, I really like him, but I don’t know if I want to disappear off-world with him forever. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” Paige had only had two beers by now, but something told Molly that her metabolism wasn’t built for holding her drinks.
Molly squinted to read the details in her holo. “Looks like the ship is ready. I need to get down there. Someone needs to sign for the supplies that should be arriving to coincide with the hand over, and I’m not sure the current owners are going to be handling that for us.”
Paige looked disappointed that girl time was over.
Oz, could you send the details over to Joel and get him in touch with the pilot and the engineer to meet us down there? Also, I could do with their photos and names, so at least I know who we’ve hired.
“Want some company?” Paige asked.
“Sure.” Molly could sense she didn’t want to be alone with Garet right now. Plus, she’s probably keen to check out this bad boy machine that is going to get us off-world.
I’m sure. Message sent to Joel’s holo.
Are you sulking, Oz? Molly asked.
Yes, I believe I am.
Well, fuck you.
Molly, feeling even shittier, downed her current bottle of beer and snatched her jacket off the back of one of the empty chairs. Storming out of the kitchen, she didn’t pause to freshen up or check herself in the mirror.
Are you sure you want to go out with your blood alcohol so high?
You’re driving.
Molly approached the car, Paige still trotting after her through the hallway, bottle in hand.
Molly heard something move in the bushes just off to her right, and then felt a sharp pain on her head.
Everything went black.
* * *
Henry looked pleased as punch, wielding his baseball bat and standing over the girl’s limp body.
Erik was already grabbing her ankles when a second girl appeared from the house and froze, stunned at the scene in front of her. Erik lunged for the baseball bat, which he grabbed out of Henry’s hands.
“Hey, biatch… that’s my ba—”
Erik thwacked the second girl on the head, and watched her crumble into a heap over the first one.
Erik handed the bat back to the protesting Henry and started dragging the top girl over the gravel to the car that was parked on the street.
“Wanna give me a hand? Or do you just want to watch and then call it in to the boss?” Eric sneered sarcastically at Henry, the events of the last several hours still seething in his veins.
Henry, taking the hint, put the bat down, and helped him carry the bodies into the vehicle.
Once both prisoners were secured, Henry tootled back to his bat. Holding it like a doll, he practically skipped back to the car and got in on the passenger side, as if everything were fine and dandy.
Erik’s face relaxed and went back to its regular witless look, before he started the engine and pulled off onto the strato highway.
Inside, Garet continued working with the data, piecing together contracts that seemed to be leading to a money trail. If he could track the money, then he would have corroborating proof of what was going on.
He thought about shouting to the girls, but then, figuring they would want to know the result rather than the breakthrough, decided to get some more work done before he shared it with them.
Chapter 17
Safe house, fifty kilometers west of Uptarlung
Twenty minutes later, Joel arrived back at the safe house. The car was still in the driveway, which meant Molly would be around. He braced himself. He wasn’t ready for everything to just be okay with them right now. Not yet.
He had calmed down enough to want food, though.
He keyed in the door code and slipped into the house, wandering through the rooms to find signs of life. Finding Garet in his room, he asked where the girls were.
“No idea. Last I saw, they were in the kitchen finishing off the stock of beer.”
“That figures,” smiled Joel, taking his atmojacket off. Molly would be suffering tomorrow, if not already. She never could hold her drinks, even when they had had intensive squad training. She seemed to operate well though, even when she was blitzed.
Heading into the kitchen, he was surprised to find evidence of intense drinking in the form of many empty beer bottles on the table, but no sign of life. Unless you counted Neechie, who emerged from the back of the room and rubbed up against his legs in a “hello, please feed me” maneuver.
“All right, buddy. You know which side your bread is buttered on, don’t you?” Chatting to the sphinx, he opened the fridge and pulled out food for him.
He arranged food in Neechie’s little dish, and plopped it down on the ground. The sphinx looked up at him and meowed.
“What’s up, pal?” he asked.
The sphinx just tilted his head and meowed again.
“You trying to tell me something?” Joel probed, only half aware that he looked crazy talking to a sphinx. Neechie walked past him and hopped up on the nearest chair, and then onto the table. Joel watched him. The sphinx walked amongst the empty beer bottles, and meowed again. Then he stopped and looked at Joel.
“You trying to tell me that Molly was here? I know she was. What’s up with you?” He stepped towards the sphinx and tickled him behind his head. “Do you just miss her when she’s not here?” he asked.
Picking him up gently, he gave him a cuddle before placing him down on the floor again. “Me too, buddy. Me too.”
Grabbing a soft drink from the fridge, he eased into a kitchen chair and checked again at his downloaded messages. Both guys had accepted their offer, and were ready to meet up tonight. Joel figured he’d need to disable the signal jammer to send the messages. He could do that, if it was just for a few seconds. He composed the message from the details Oz had provided, and fired them off, pausing the jamming signal for a few moments.
He had another message from Oz, about taking receipt of some supplies. It was a detail for the two new guys in case they got there before Molly.
Oz suggested they check the number of packages was correct, the ID tags lined up, and then have them loaded up onto the bird so that the new gear and supplies were at least secure.
Joel tutted at the message; now he knew exactly where the money had come from to be able to buy all those supplies, as well as the ship. He forwarded the details, as Oz had requested, and let the guys know that Molly would probably already be there by the time they arrived.
He took a deep breath, and released a little more of the pent-up tension that last message had built up in his system. He knew he’d get past this. Eventually. But right now, he should probably get working on the rest of the plan.
If they had the ship, they should start deploying the rest of their scheme to separate Dewitt from his resources. He called out to Garet to come and work in the kitchen, and started tidying up beer bottles to give them some space.
It was going to be a long night.
Spaceport, Hangar 08771A, Outskirts of Uptarlung
The Sark had already disappeared under the horizon, leaving the atmosphere cold, dusty and inky black. Condensation had already started forming in the cracks of the silicon-based tarmac.
Crash looked up at the hangar number, to his holo, then back up at the number.
08771A.
He was in the right place. There had been movement around some of the other hangars as he’d driven down the towpath to arrive here, but now, there wasn’t a soul in sight.
He idly scuffed his boot heel along the ground, waiting for Molly or the other guy to show.
Crash wondered who this mechanic was that was going to have his life in his hands for this next mission. He’d flown with many crews over the years; some competent, some nothing more than cowboys in jumpsuits. But one thing he knew was that a good relationship between the wrench monkey and the fairy could mean the difference between life and death for them all.
He hoped to hell that this Dunham guy knew what he was doing in the selection process. He paused for a moment, suddenly wondering whether it was a good sign that he had been selected for the fairy job, or not.
There were footsteps behind him.
Turning around, he saw a man’s figure come into the light. His breath caught in his throat as he realized who it was.
“Long time, soldier.” The man called out to him.
The smile. He’d never forget that smile.
“How the devil…” Crash lost his words, as he took a few steps towards the man in the metallic blue atmosuit. He was just as confident and vibrant as Crash remembered him.
Until things had gone bad, that was.
Crash held his hand out for a proper greeting, but the man opened his arms, as if all the treachery of their last meeting had evaporated. Relieved, Crash hugged him, grinning from ear to ear.
“You realize you’re too good looking to be flying whatever shit is in that hangar?” he asked him.
Crash ignored the question. “Brock Lysta, as I live and breathe. I take it you’re my new monkey?”
“You got that right. I’m your monkey, your bitch, and you better be my goddamn eagle in the fucking sky if we gonna make this work.” Brock’s eyes were bright and clear, dancing with wisdom far older than his years would have permitted.
Crash slowly released his old friend from his embrace, and stepped back to look at him.
“Man, I’m so happy to see you. And you’re looking great!” His excitement bubbled up, and then he looked very serious. “You have no idea how sorry I am, the way things ended between us. I really…I just want you to know that.”
“It’s okay. We good. I cussed you, I told everyone that would listen what a dog you is, and then eventually, I got over it. But that isn’t a mistake I’m ever going to make again, you feel me?”
Crash nodded, well aware how lucky he was that Brock was making this a pleasant reunion.
“Well, beetch, what’s going on with our lady-queen? Where she at?” Brock looked around for Molly.
“Just got here. I’m guessing we’re in the right place…”
Brock checked the hangar number, and nodded.
“How ‘bout you tell me how you been? Been tooooo long.” Brock’s melodic dialect was like music.
Just as it had always been.
Crash felt his spirits lift as Brock stood there shooting the breeze. This was one assignment he was glad to have accepted. No matter what happened on that ship, he knew he was in the right place now.
Unknown location
Molly came to. Her head really hurt and she felt sick.
Hangover, was her first thought. She tried to sit up, and felt stuck. Then she became aware that her wrists were bound.
“Owwwww,” she complained, wondering where the fuck Oz was when she needed orienting.
Gradually, the room came into focus. It wasn’t like anything she’d ever seen before. It had high vaulted ceilings and plush rugs over the wooden flooring. The furniture in the room was like something out of a history file, and there were wallpaper and paintings on the walls.
Is this some kind of museum? She wondered, trying to put the pieces together.
Scanning around the part of the room she could see, she stopped when she noticed that Paige was completely bound, just across the way from her, lying on one of the antique couches.
She looked distressed. Tears had dried down her face and she was gagged, but trying to make sounds now she saw that Molly was awake.
Just outside the tall doors there was a man, Ogg-kind, in a dark gray atmosuit. She couldn’t see his face because he had his back to the door, as if he were guarding it. He looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t quite place him.
She became aware of the dull pain on the side of her skull, and realized she had been hit and kidnapped. She pulled and wriggled to get out of her bonds, but all it did was hurt her ankles and wrists more.
It was only then that she became aware of a presence behind her. Someone was dragging something in her direction. A table appeared next to her. And then a gentleman, a blue Estarian, came into her view. His suit was stylish, and he smelled of expensive aftershave.
Her money was on him being Dewitt himself.
“Greetings of the day to you!” he exclaimed when he was done arranging the table. “I trust you’re comfortable?”
Molly tried to cuss at him through her gag, but he was too caught up in himself to be affected. He disappeared behind her again, out of her line of sight, and then reappeared, putting a saucer onto the table next to her.
Molly looked at it and then back at Paige.
“Who the fuck are you?” She tried to speak through her gag.
The man shook his head as if he didn’t understand, and untied the gag, letting it fall into her lap.
“Say that again, please?” he asked nicely.
“Who the fuck are you?” she asked again, anger seething through her teeth.
“Why, I’m Mr. Dewitt, of course. You should know that, since you have a download of all my files that you stole earlier today. And you are?”
He looked down at her, sneer and sarcasm dripping from his thin pale lips.
“Molly,” she answered, still seething.
“Ahhhhh, Meddling Molly! Tell me, Molly, do you make a habit of interfering in things that don’t concern you?”
Molly remained stoic, but glared at him as if she were trying to fry his brain with her eyes.
“You know, meddling only ever gets people killed. You should know that by now…given all the meddling you’ve done over the years. Tell me, how are your parents doing since you nearly got them assassinated?”
Molly looked over at Paige, the whites of whose eyes were now showing. Scrambling for the words to respond, she was overwhelmed with questions. How did this asshole know who she was? And how could he know about her parents? No one knew that. There weren’t any records. Someone had seen to that. She’d checked.
“Molly, I know all about you; about your little stint in the military after nearly getting your parents killed. Such a cliché, if you ask me. You should have just stayed in the military and kept your head down, instead of coming out into the real world and making my life more difficult.”
“Well, if you know anything about me, you’ll know exactly why I can’t do that,” Molly scoffed.
“The Syndicate are not even the same people who came after your parents.” Dewitt looked slightly exasperated, but his tone was still patronizing.
Molly ground out. “Different faces, but you’re all the same, and you all need stopping. No one was around to dismantle whatever was going on when those men came after my parents. But I’m around now. And I’m going to stop you all.”
Dewitt wandered over to his briefcase, which was lying open on a couch near the one Paige was tied up on.
He glanced back at her, indicating towards her bound hands and feet. “Doesn’t look likely from where you are right now.”
He turned back and reached into the briefcase and pulled out a little pink disc. Wandering back to the table next to Molly, he placed it on the saucer.
“Molly, Molly, Molly,” his tone was laced with condescension. “You and I don’t need to speak. I know your story, and honestly, I’m bored. I need you to be quiet. Permanently. I want to speak to Paige, though.”
Molly protested. “Paige just got all caught up in something she doesn’t understand. Let her go, and I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”
Dewitt was wandering back to his briefcase again.
“You’re not the one who stole information off my private server. Paige is the one who has been giving people access to my personal data. Paige is the one who can answer my questions.”
Molly felt sick, and she knew it was only part hangover. If she’d taken Paige away that first night in the bar, they’d both be safe now. Dewitt was right. They were in trouble. They were going to die because she had aspirations of being like Bethany Anne, making the world a better place. But that wasn’t really why she was drawn to it. No. It was because being like Bethany Anne, taking on that identity, was her childish way of avoiding the pain of being an outcast, and the emptiness of being nothing special, of being broken.
Her Bethany Anne obsession had been a band-aid; a fix for an identity wound that still hadn’t healed.
“Leave her alone. Please.” Molly begged. She didn’t have tears for what was going on, but her stomach was turned inside out with anxiety.
He looked at her, completely confused. “Why would I?” he asked. He pointed to Paige. “She’s planning to expose me. Why would I let her go? I need to find out what she knows, and who she’s told.”
“And then she’s as good as dead?” asked Molly. Her anxiety and frustration was turning to rage.
“Yes, probably,” responded Dewitt, excited that he was getting her riled up. Getting a reaction was something he lived for.
Of course, it wasn’t something he could do in his professional life, but when he had control over people in his private life, he would go to town on them. That had been what had provoked his late wife, and a few others since.
“You’re a monster!” Molly grated.
“Another way we’re alike. You and I, Molly…we’re just ambitious. And I’m tired of being everyone’s bitch. I’ve been used and abused my whole career. I’ve been the Syndicate’s pawn for the last twenty years. And now, now—when I most need their support to clean up their mess—they abandon me. Reject me! Tell me they’re distancing themselves from me?!”
He paused a moment, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I’ll give them distance!”
Molly couldn’t be sure from where she was, but it looked like his hands were shaking in anger. His jawline looked tense, but the rest of his face was strangely expressionless.
Probably something he’s picked up being a politician, she assumed, hiding his true feelings.
He was hovering over his brief case again, and this time took out a small bottle of liquid. Molly watched him intently.
He continued on, as if he were explaining his sins for absolution. “I’m not mixed up with them because I crave power or politics. I was like you once.” He glanced at her, a small smile on his face before looking back at the liquid. “Young. Idealistic. But then they made me kill my wife, and because of the divorce, it looked really bad. They offered to make it all go away, and I’ve been working for them ever since.” He paused, twiddling the bottle in his fingers, before glancing over to Paige who had been helplessly watching the interaction unfold.
She wished she hadn’t tried to be brave. She wished for once she had just followed her gut and gotten out of town. Too late for that now.
“There’s really no way out of this for me. Or, unfortunately, for either of you.” He started to walk deliberately back towards the table and Molly.
Molly changed tactics. “You don’t need to keep working with them. If they’ve abandoned you, then you’ve got a way out. Why keep cleaning up to keep them safe? Your career is going to be finished. You can make a deal…expose them, in exchange for your safety. There are other ways!” Molly’s voice was cracking as she spoke through her anxiety, trying to persuade him with reason.
“No there aren’t.” Dewitt’s shoulder dropped noticeably, and for an instant he looked like a defeated man. “You can’t understand how powerful they are. They own the police. The military. The legal system. There is no way this can end well for me. I need to silence you two, and however many people you’ve told. If I’m lucky, they’ll let me keep going and push this bill through.”
With that, he put the bottle down on the table next to the saucer and headed over to Paige. Grabbing her roughly, he dragged her like a rag doll off the couch, onto the floor, and across the wooden flooring to the door. Dewitt propped Paige up by the doorway; the guy in the atmosuit guarding the door turned to look at her, then resumed his position.
Dewitt grunted something at him, and the guard spoke into his holo, presumably to another team member.
Dewitt walked back to the couch, closed up his briefcase, and placed it by the door as well.
“Here’s what’s going to happen now, Molly,” he told her clinically. “You’re just going to fall into a deep sleep you’ll never wake up from. I’m going to take Paige somewhere more comfortable, and we’re going to have a little chat. She’s going to tell me everything I need to do to clean up this frightful mess, and then I’m going to get this goddamn bill passed and get on with my life.”
He picked up the bottle of liquid and put a few drops onto the pink disc. Immediately the chemicals started reacting, giving off a lot of mist.
Dewitt quickly moved backwards, watching as the mist thickened. Breathing it in, Molly started choking uncontrollably.
He continued his education. “I like this method of clean up. It leaves no trace in the room, or in the blood… especially not with these high ceilings,” he indicated upwards.
A second later, he was at the door. He scooped up his briefcase and dragged Paige after him.
Molly didn’t even see him leave. The fog around her was thick and black. She racked her brain trying to figure out what this stuff was…but it was so hard to focus.
Oz. Oz, are you there?
Safe house, fifty kilometers west of Uptarlung
Both men looked aged and tired. They’d been at this for hours now, and though they were making good progress, the work was like combing through a haystack for a couple of needles.
“I think I’ve nearly got all the evidence we need to prove our case. Just need to present it so it’s good for each media outlet and the official channels. Who should we include on the list? The chief justice? The police commissioner? The normal police channels for reporting this kind of crime?”
Garet was thinking out loud, and also constructing the list that he was about to put into action.
Joel looked up from a bunch of lewd photos he’d been sorting through.
“Yeah, all of the above, and anyone else you can think of. The more people, the better.”
“Great. I’ll compile a list of social channels too. I’m sure the Angry Onion would want to know about this!” Garet smiled, relieved that they had a way out of the pickle he’d been in no less than twenty-four hours ago. “How are you doing? Any good shots?”
Joel nearly laughed out loud. “I’ll tell ya, this guy has no shame. He will screw anything with an orifice if it’s going to help his career. I was worried we’d have to catch him in the act, but it looks like a bunch of people over the years have done that for us. Grieving divorcees, pissed off husbands—even his own people looking to leverage him. The guy is a scumbag, and so are all his associates by the looks of it.”
“So, you think just sending them to his judge lady friend will be enough? You aren’t worried that she knows about this already?”
“I’ve checked their messages. She thinks he’s all hers, and is pushing for them to make the next step in commitment. What’s worse, I think she’s in love with him. No way their relationship is going to remain intact once these images go out.”
“Want me to throw some into the media shitstorm I’m cooking up, too?” Garet was excited about regaining some power and getting some revenge on the guy who tried to have him killed.
“No. Need to keep these separate. If we go mixing them up it will look like someone is trying to damage his career and it won’t be taken seriously. Keep it clean.”
Garet nodded his understanding, and continued arranging the materials he’d gathered.
Joel checked the time. Molly should be with Crash and Brock by now. He should call her to make sure they were set to release their findings. She’d probably want to look over the materials before they went out.
After disabling the jamming app, Joel pulled up the call function on his holo and dialed.
“That’s strange…”
Garet looked up. “What’s that?”
“Call isn’t going through. Lemme try the guys she’s meeting.” Joel dialed Crash.
“This is Chris Ashworth.”
“Crash, hi, this is Joel. Is Molly with you?”
“No, she’s not shown up yet. We’ve been hanging about for a while now. Any idea on her ETA?”
Joel’s brow furrowed.
Noticing something was up, and only being able to hear Joel’s side of the conversation, Garet sat up.
“Something must be wrong. She messaged me hours ago. Are you sure you didn’t miss her?” Joel’s eyes darted left to right, as if searching the space in front of him for insight.
“No, we got here about ten minutes before we said we would. If she got to the hangar, we’d know about it. I can go check with the main gate, though. See if she signed in.”
“Yeah, if you could, that would be helpful. Call me back.”
Joel disconnected the call.
Shit, if only there was some way to trace her holo. That had been an Oz trick, though. He had no idea how to do that. He stood up, and started pacing, trying to figure out his next move.
Chapter 18
Spaceport, Hangar 08771A, Outskirts of Uptarlung
Crash had told Brock about the conversation, and the two quickly got into Crash’s car to drive down to the gatehouse.
“I hope everything’s all right,” muttered Crash. “Joel sounded anxious. I think they’re mid-mission. Figured they had a client with them at the safe house when we interviewed.”
“If I had known you were going to be working this team, I would have worked much harder at the interview!” Brock said, rolling his head against the headrest to look at him and smiling. For a short moment their eyes locked, but Crash had to turn away to watch the road. Brock broke the moment further by commenting on the car.
“Man, you’ve got nothing personal in this car. No gear, nothing to make it comfortable. Just like something issued temporarily by the military.”
“You know me. Mission ready, and not much else to plan for.”
“Yeah. I remember.”
They pulled up by the gatehouse and they both got out. Crash tapped on the door, and then stepped into the little office. The gatehouse guard looked up from his holo. From the color of light coming off it, he was probably watching a movie.
“Yup?” he asked. “How can I help?”
“Sorry, we were just wondering, have you had a Molly Bates sign in yet?”
Brock stood in the doorway watching the exchange.
“Molly Bates?” The guard clicked to a different frame on his holo and scanned down a page. “No, not tonight. You expecting her?””
“Yeah, over at hangar 08771A.”
The guard looked down at his list again, and shook his head. “Sorry, nothing here. Tried calling her holo?”
“No, not yet. Thanks.” Crash stepped out of the office, and they headed back to the car.
“What you thinking?” asked Brock.
“I’m thinking that maybe Joel has reason to be worried. You don’t arrange to meet your new crew for an urgent mission and then just not show up….”
Then, having another thought, he popped his head around the door and spoke to the guard. “Hey, if you have her sign in, can you get her to call us straight away?”
The guard nodded. “Sure.”
“Oh, and we’re expecting to take receipt of some supplies too. So we’re around if they show up.”
“Yep, got your holo contact on your sign-in. I’ll let you know.”
Crash nodded his thanks, and then stepped outside again. He pulled up his holo and dialed Joel.
Joel answered. “Hi, Crash. Anything?”
“Hey, Joel, we’re at the gatehouse, and they haven’t had her check in at all. I guess we’ll just wait here, but let me know if there is anything we can do.”
“Okay, let me know if you need anything.”
Crash clicked off.
“Maybe we should wait back at the hangar?” Brock suggested.
“Good plan,” agreed Crash. They returned to the car, and set off back to the hangar, keeping their eyes peeled and taking in the lay of the port, just in case.
Unknown location
Molly started to regain consciousness. Trying to move, she realized she was still tied to the chair. Her head hurt something awful, but from the inside out, rather than from that bump she took earlier.
Shifting in her chair, she tried to get more comfortable and sit up a bit. The sick feeling from the beer was still with her, but amplified ten times with a different type of hangover.
Oz. Are you there?
She felt something shift in her neurology, like Oz was booting up or something. She wished she could reach around for her holo and run a diagnostic, but there was no way she was getting out of these bindings without some help.
Oz, she called to him more determinedly. Wake your fat arse up. We’re in trouble.
The stirring happened again.
Molly started scanning the room for something to help her get free. Anything. Something sharp, something she could leverage the ties free with. Just something…
How about I call Joel?
Oh, Oz, you’re awake. Thank goodness.
Relief flooded through their shared system, and even Oz seemed to buzz through her head a little more lucidly.
Yes, get out coordinates to Joel.
She thought for a moment.
Any ideas what that chemical bath bomb could have been?
Let me find out… Looks like it’s some kind of experimental sleep drug that was discontinued in stage two trials because it would bind with the blood and kill their test subjects.
You’re kidding?
I am not.
So how did I survive?
The alcohol in your system. It seems that the alcohol has a higher affinity with your blood than the toxin. This means that your liver has mostly been able to excrete the toxin before it could bind to the blood or build up in any of your organs to cause any significant damage. The fact that you also fell unconscious meant that you took in less of the toxin in before it dissipated.
Molly shifted in the chair again, trying to wiggle her hands free.
I’ve managed to get a message to Joel’s holo with our coordinates. If he’s still in the house with the jamming signal activated, he won’t get the message until he either switches off the jamming or leaves the property.
He must have noticed I’m missing. Mind, the way we left things, I’m not sure he still cares. He may have abandoned the mission entirely. Okay, let’s find a way to get me free…
Dewitt Residence, Spire
Dewitt opened the front door to what Paige could only guess was his mansion. It was enormous and beautiful, like something out of a fairytale in her books as a child.
Dewitt grabbed her by the arm and pushed her in. Henry followed, letting Erik take care of the car.
Inside the mansion, Paige noticed beautiful floors and rugs, and what looked like a grand piano in the foyer. She guessed it was a piano but she’d never seen one in real life. They were something of a relic from the human civilization. Why he liked it, she wasn’t sure.
Dewitt didn’t give her a chance to take in the environment. Distracted, he pulled her roughly toward the stairs and pushed her upwards.
“I’m going to make our guest more comfortable upstairs. Erik, come. You’ll need to guard her.”
“I’m Henry.”
“Henry, Erik…whatever.” Dewitt answered.
Henry followed him obediently.
At the top of the stairs, Dewitt guided her to what must have been a guest room and shoved her in. Rethinking this, he followed her in, grabbed her again, and then shoved her into the closet. He closed the closet and bound the handles together using a curtain tie.
“She’s your responsibility now. Under no circumstances does she leave that closet. Understood?” He stared at the Ogg.
Henry nodded, and Dewitt left, closing the bedroom door behind him.
Unprepared for taking care of a live prisoner he wasn’t to kill, Henry stood awkwardly looking at the closet. He went to cross his arms and hesitated. He cocked his hip and put a hand on it, then stood straight again. Finally, and self-consciously, he sat down on the bed and rested his hands in his lap.
This was not what he had in mind this morning when he was told to tail a traitor.
“Seems like we’re all going to transfer dimensions painfully.” he said out loud, forgetting that the girl was sentient, and alive.
Safe house, fifty kilometers west of Uptarlung
Joel had been pacing for a good ten minutes, and Garet didn’t know whether he should keep working to try and console Joel. He clearly cared for Molly, even if they had gone through an enormous bust-up.
He looked up, watching Joel, trying to decide what to do.
“Is there any way to track them at all?” he asked. “I remember my aunt put an app onto my cousin’s holo so she knew where he was if he ever got into trouble. Totally ruined his social life, though…”
“No. We hadn’t thought that far. This operation is brand new.” Joel was still pacing.
“You know, the best thing for us to do is get this stuff out according to plan. She might just have gone to a bar or something. They had a few drinks before they left.”
“You don’t seem that worried about Paige.”
“I’m sure they’re fine. I’ve seen you guys in action. There is no one I’d feel safer pairing Paige with. Molly knows how to handle herself, and I know she’s got Paige’s back. From what I could overhear, those girls were bonding.”
Joel paused for a moment, taking in the information. If he hadn’t been such a hothead, she never would have been drinking like that.
His holo beeped as a priority message came in. In the panic, he’d forgotten to reset the jammer.
Opening the message, he saw it was from Molly. Well, Oz. “We’ve been kidnapped, Paige is gone, here are our coordinates. Please hurry.”
Forgetting Garet, he grabbed his packed gear from the other room and headed out to the car. Garet was shouting, but it was background noise to Joel. Firing up the engine, he was ready to take off when Garet, barefoot on the gravel, appeared at his window.
Opening the car window, Joel remembered the bigger operation.
“Let me come with you. I can help.” His face was anxious, showing deep concern for Paige.
That made him a liability.
“No. You need to stay here and get that data out to those channels we talked about. That’s the only way you have of helping Paige right now. Go. Get it done. I’m on the holo. And be careful—the jamming isn’t active, so this safe house is a sitting duck.”
He realized that it had been ever since the girls were taken, but there was no time to explain that to Garet.
A moment later the car was halfway to the strato highway and Garet was left watching the condensate trail upwards into the inky night.
* * *
Staring up into the sky, Garet had been wondering about Paige. About where she might be, about what he’d pulled her into for his own selfish ambitions. If there were a way to go back and do things differently, he would jump at the chance.
He remembered her smile the other week when he’d met her at work to take her for lunch. This world, the anxiety, the politics—it had all seemed so far away. How could things turn so bad, so quickly?
Now, with the cold and atmosphere slipping into his shirt, beating gently against his skin, he suddenly became aware of himself. Stepping carefully over the gravel in his bare feet he made his way back into the not-so-safe house.
He wondered if he should reactivate the jamming signal, but he had no idea how to do it. If he did manage it, it would mean he couldn’t get his messages out, nor would he hear from Joel about Paige.
Joel was right. The best thing he could do now was get that intel out to the media channels. He debated in his mind which to do first: the pictures to the judge, or the bribery release to the news desks.
Judge first, he thought. It might take the judge longer to open the images, and the news desks were manned continuously.
Garet pulled up the kitchen holo Joel had been working on, and started uploading the images to a holo message.
“Send.” The judge was taken care of.
Ten minutes after that, he hit “send” on the release to all 411 news desks they’d selected. He sat back in the chair at the kitchen table, and waited for the effect to take hold.
Dewitt Residence, Spire
Dewitt was in the master bedroom changing his clothes. The last thing he needed was to be caught with forensic evidence linking him to the death of Molly Bates. He decided to save the shower for after he’d gotten rid of the other girl. He might end up getting messy interrogating her.
His holo rang.
Shit, this was the last thing he needed.
It was Andus.
He ran his fingers through his hair and wiped his face with his hands, getting his brain in gear to talk to the one man who might be able to make all this go away.
If he’d been a praying man, he might have said a few words requesting help. But he wasn’t.
He hit “accept”.
“Mr. Andus.”
“Have you seen the news?” the cold voice rattled through his bones. Andus was not happy. What glimmer of humanity he normally seemed to have was no longer present.
“Er, no. Not recently.” He moved towards the bedroom holo and flicked it on. There on the news channel was his face, and the reporter was talking about how he’d been taking bribes.
“What the…” He ran out of breath and watched open-mouthed.
“As you can see, it’s going to be very difficult to help you with this. Thankfully you’ve only incriminated yourself. You won’t be hearing from us again, but if you breathe even a word of our past dealings to anyone, you can be assured that we will neutralize any threat to us. I have friends in many high—and low—places. You are safe nowhere.”
The call was disconnected.
Dewitt tried to call Andus back, but the call wasn’t connecting.
He tried again and again. Then, distracted by the holoscreen and the carnage of his life disintegrating around him, he perched on the end of the bed, his body in shock.
* * *
“Mr. Andus, your chief of security is on the line for you.” His secretary’s voice piped through his desk holo.
Andus leaned back in his large office chair and rocked himself ever so slightly, the toes of his expensive shoes dragging in the plush gray carpet that covered the entire expanse of his lavish office.
“Patch him through,” he ordered coldly, still pissed about the whole Dewitt shitstorm.
“Yes?” he said, as he heard the line connect.
“Mr. Andus, we’re en route. We have a team of five plus myself. How would you like us to proceed when we get there?”
“I need this to be clean. The authorities are probably also on their way, and we don’t want to leave any evidence of our involvement. Bottom line: we cannot have him taken in. Not for anything. Your orders are to neutralize the target. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir. Target will be neutralized.”
“Very good. Call me when it is done.”
“Yes, sir.”
Andus ended the call and glanced over at Jessica, who was visiting. She sat delicately on the sofa, just across the room from Andus’ large oaklon desk.
She watched him with a knowing look. She’d give him this: when he made up his mind, he got it done.
Andus leaned back in his chair, his hands steepled in front of him. It was times like these he wondered if he were better suited to a simple life. The feeling passed a few seconds later, replaced by a feeling he enjoyed much more.
Power.
The Old Pan Galaxy Museum, Dalvik District, Just outside Uptarlung
Joel’s heart was in his mouth as he pulled up to an abandoned museum in a remote district of Uptarlung. The coordinates were bringing him to Molly. He assumed from Oz’s message that she was alive, but he had no idea what state she might be in. And that was now twenty-eight minutes ago, he thought, checking the time on his holo.
He braced himself as the coordinate finder guided him to the side of the building.
She must be inside. He stopped the car and practically fell out. Scrambling in the dark for his kit bag, he found it and pulled it out. He took a few moments to strap on his guns and devices. He had no idea what he would be walking into. He did a quick scan for life using his holo.
One life sign, and it coincided with the coordinates Oz had given him.
So far, so good.
He knew better than to be complacent, though.
Within seconds he had found a side door into the building. There was no keypad. He pulled and it opened. He felt some relief, followed by a wave of suspicion. He had no idea why that door was open. Was it a trap? Was it where Molly’s captors had exited in a hurry?
His mind ran through the possible scenarios, running the training protocols he’d taught to hundreds of cadets over the years.
Satisfied he was as ready as he was going to be, he oriented himself. Down that corridor to the right. He set off at a sweeping pace, keeping one eye on the holo and the other on his surroundings. Not that there was much to see in the dark. Legs bent as he glided stealthily, gun trained on one possible threat after another, he mentally designated each area safe as he proceeded and checked off the threats.
Two-thirds of the way through the corridor he suddenly stopped. He was practically on top of the coordinates Oz had sent him.
There was light coming from under a door just a few paces ahead of him.
“Joel? Joel! I’m in here.” It was Molly’s voice.
Keeping with protocol, he swung in through the door, checking for potential threats. Deeming the place secure, he finally allowed himself to look in the direction of the hostage in the center of the room.
“Molly,” he exhaled, in relief. “Thank your ancestors, you’re okay!” He ran to her, hugging her and trying to undo her ties at the same time.
“I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I should never have been so reckless about all this. I’m sorry…”
“Hush, no time for that now. Where’s Paige?”
Molly had tears running down her face. Joel produced a combat knife from his kit and cut though her bonds as they talked.
She answered. “I have no idea. Dewitt took her. Oz has pinpointed three locations he might have taken her. I figured we should try his residence first.”
Once her hands were free, she pulled up an image on her holo, with pins showing the three places.
“And if she’s not?” Joel asked, wondering about the other two locations.
“Well, that bar he owns—he’s visited it three times in the last month—is pretty close to the port. Are your boys still there?”
“Yes, waiting to meet you. We can get them to recon the place, but I’m not sure about their level of combat competence. I’d hate to get them hurt before they really know what they’re getting into.” He admitted.
Molly thought through Joel’s comment. “Agreed. Let’s have them check it out and call in what they find. Any sign of life, and they’re to stand down.”
“Roger that.” Joel moved away from the chair where Molly was sitting, giving her space to stand. He flicked open his own holo and made the call to Crash.
Chapter 19
Dewitt Residence
The shock having subsided a little, Dewitt got up from the bed, realizing that he still had cards to play. Even without the Syndicate, he had people who could help him.
He dialed Judge Simes on the holo.
It connected, but instead of her voice, the noise on the other end sounded like sobbing. Was she…? She was.
She was crying.
“You bastard! You fucking Djöfulsins óskapnaðar drulla! You lied to me! The whole time, all those times we were in bed making plans for the future. You were lying to my FACE!”
Dewitt sat down on the bed again. The color drained from his face, leaving him gray and drawn instead of his normal glowing blue.
“Baby, wait. What’s going on? Why are you upset?”
His holo flashed up with multiple images of him doing the wild thing with any number of women.
“Baby, what? You knew I had a history!” he protested, his voice catching in his throat. He’d been rumbled. He knew even before he heard her next words.
“These are all recent. Since we’ve been together. YOU ASSHOLE!”
The line went dead.
Stunned, Dewitt tried to stand, but ended up staggering back against the bed. He missed it and half fell, half slumped down against it. His holo screen was blank but still active…a black projection mimicking the space where his life used to be.
There was no doubt about it.
He was well and truly screwed.
Indius Residence, Downtown Spire
Chaakwa Indius rolled over in bed and groped for her wrist holo. Strapping it onto her wrist with her eyes still closed, she opened her right eye far enough check her caller ID.
It was the captain.
“Oh, crap.” She sat up in the semi-darkness, blinked her eyes to wake up a bit, and then accepted the call.
“Indius. You’re needed on an op.”
“It’s the middle of the night, Captain. How bad?”
“Bad enough to shake the fabric of our constitution. This is going to be a big case. I can give it to someone else, if you need your beauty sleep.”
Chaakwa blinked the remaining sleep from her eyes, and brushed the grit from her smooth Estarian skin. “No, no, I’m on it. Where do I need to be, and who are we taking down?”
“In the Kensington quarter. Your team is meeting you there. You’re taking down William Dewitt.”
Chaakwa looked at her wrist holo for a moment in confusion, before asking, “Dewitt? The politician?”
“The one and the same. We’ve had anonymous intel that seems to check out. Look sharp. Operation details will be hitting your holo momentarily.”
“Yes, Ma’am. Thank you, Ma’am.”
The holo call clicked off.
“So much for catching up on sleep,” she mumbled to herself. She took one deep breath to gather herself, and then she was out of bed and into the shower.
This may be the break she’d been looking for. Ten years beating around the edges of these corporate cartels, and finally they had enough to arrest Dewitt.
This intel must be good. And with this, she might be able to bring down the whole Health Corp ring and find out who really makes up the Syndicate.
Uptarlung, Mosfellsdalur District, twenty kilometers from Spaceport
Crash and Brock pulled up at the coordinates Molly had sent to them.
“You think this is the place?” Crash wondered out loud, checking out the building in front of them.
“Sure looks creepy enough,” Brock remarked, hauling his ass out of the car.
The two crunched through the gravel of the parking lot over to the building they had been directed to. The pale blue signage over the entrance and down the side of the building gave away that this was indeed the right property.
“Fantasee Island,’” said Brock, reading the sign out loud. “This ain’t no ‘fantasee’ of any normal Sarkian, I can tell you.” His sense of humor, even in the face of danger, made Crash smile. This was the same motherfucker who ordered him through basic training a second time as punishment for dropping his weapon and screaming like a girl on a mission. As he rightly pointed out, he was there as mechanical support, not infantry.
But that didn’t sway the brass.
What he never told Brock is that that night when he was shipped off to redo, the rest of the squad staged a march of solidarity for him, and refused to take up arms for any reason for the next week. It was tense for a few days, but when the brass learned it was just for a week, they let it slide. Their reasoning was that they were impressed by their camaraderie.
When Brock rejoined them eight weeks later, he was never put on infantry detail again. If there were any suggestions of it by the generals or the rota staff who didn’t know, the squad saw to it that he was protected. He was family. And that’s what they did for family.
That’s just the way it was.
“So what we gonna do? Head inside?” Brock whispered across to Crash.
“My guess is it’s all alarmed. Let’s have a look around the back.”
They walked the perimeter of the building, looking for any signs of life. Seeing nothing suspicious or lifelike at all, they called Joel to let him know.
“Hi, Joel?” Crash heard the line connect.
“Yeah. Anything?” Joel asked. Crash could hear a woman’s voice saying something in the background, but he couldn’t make it out. He assumed it must be Molly.
The boss.
“No. Nothing. The place seems to be abandoned. There are no vehicles here, so it’s not like there’s likely to be anyone inside. But if we need to get in there, I’m sure we could break a lock or something.”
“No, I don’t think that’s necessary. Plus, you guys aren’t armed. Stand down. We’re going to go on to the residence, and if there’s nothing there, then we may need to circle back to your location as a possibility. You okay to hang there in case anyone does show?”
“Yep. No problem,” agreed Crash.
He heard Molly again.
“Yeah, Molly says to stay out of sight, though. Just in case.” Joel finished the order.
“Roger that. We’ll stand by. Crash out.” The call disconnected.
Crash had his serious face on. He’d been in enough combat situations to know how things can go south pretty damn fast, and all it takes is for one team member not to be giving 110% when it happens for it to end in the worst way possible.
He got Brock up to speed as they headed back to the car.
“Maybe we should park up around the corner facing the road so that we see anyone coming?” Brock suggested.
Crash nodded and pulled the car around, then backed it into the shadows. He got out of the car and went to his trunk. Unlocking it, he pulled up a lower carpet board and reached under it.
He pulled out a black bag that chinked a little as he closed the trunk lid and slipped back into the vehicle. Brock didn’t say anything as Crash set it in the back.
Neither knew how long they were going to have to wait. Crash looked at his watch, checking how long it would be until the sun came up.
Dewitt Residence, Spire
“And if this isn’t the place? If it’s the bar across town?” Molly asked, as she found a weapon in Joel’s kit bag and checked the settings in the half-light of the car.
“Well, then we sweep this place, and then get ourselves over there fast.” Joel had slipped into operations mode. Now that he had Molly, he was calm, collected, and focused.
Molly knew he was right.
She still hadn’t mastered getting herself into ops mode when it came to combat, though. Her arms and legs always wanted to go limp from the adrenaline. She remembered the crap she had taken in recruit training when her legs had actually given way the first time she was tacked up and pushed into a demonstration op.
Her cheeks flushed with anxiety and embarrassment even now, just thinking about it. That familiar feeling had returned to her arms and legs as the car pulled up to the Dewitt residence.
She worked her arms to get that shit out of her system. Joel glanced across, knowing exactly what was going on.
“You never did get that sorted out, eh?” he smiled. “You maybe need me to help you work the adrenalin out of your system?”
“Now? You want to tease me about this now?” Molly couldn’t believe the timing of these squaddies. Yeah, sure, they got the job done, but why did they always have to start with banter just at the tensest moments of a life and death op?
I suggest this is a job for stun settings only.
Why? I want to kill the shit out of that fucktard that tried to murder me!
There is abnormal activity with the official law enforcement in this area. In fact, yes… There are troops on their way. You’re not going to have time to police your brass. I estimate you have three minutes to get in and out.
Molly relayed the intel to Joel. “Joel, Oz says we have three minutes before law enforcement is here. Guns to stun only, so we don’t leave anything traceable.”
“Roger that,” he confirmed. “Stun only.”
Molly quietly turned her stun setting up to maximum.
I saw that.
I’m going to stun the shit out of the asshole.
Joel parked as close as he could, and the two of them got up and stormed up the steps. Molly suddenly had the sense that there was someone nearby. She stopped in her tracks, one foot on the top step then signaled for Joel to stop.
She listened.
Then she pointed to the front door. Joel placed himself tactically against the wall, weapon up and ready to fire at whomever stepped out.
Molly knocked on the door.
There was a shuffling, a couple of footsteps, and then the door opened.
There stood an Ogg in a black atmosuit, weapon clearly held behind his back. When he saw Molly, he immediately tried to slam the door closed, but Molly was faster, and slammed her free hand against it, and then her foot.
The Ogg shouted something and stumbled back, pulling his weapon on her. Molly dove in, drawing his fire, while Joel appeared in the open doorway and shot the Ogg. The stun hit him squarely in the chest, disabling him.
“Nice shot, Mr. Dunham.”
Joel stood in the doorway, paying attention to the surroundings and waiting for the sound of more movement. The look of admiration on Molly’s face didn’t entirely escape him, though.
There was scuffling upstairs.
“Oh, Lordy!” Henry appeared at the top of the wraparound staircase. Seeing that Joel had just taken Eric out, he squealed in panic, and ran back into the room he had appeared from and slammed the door.
Joel started making his way up the stairs. “Check the downstairs for Paige. And close and lock that front door. Slow them down when they get here.”
Molly moved back to the door and did as instructed. Gathering herself after nearly getting shot, she focused back in on the objective: find Paige, then get the hell out of Dodge.
Thankfully she had found the strength in her limbs again. Her weapon in front of her, she started clearing the ground floor, scanning each area as her training had dictated.
She swept through room after room until she came to the kitchen. She stepped inside and froze when she saw the figure standing there, just behind the central island.
It was Dewitt. And he was holding a knife from the knife block. She couldn’t tell if he intended to use it on her or himself. Either way, he wasn’t getting out of this easily.
“Back from the dead, I see,” he exclaimed, when he realized it was Molly.
She had a lot to say to him. Heck, she had a lot of killing him she wanted to do. But now, face to face with him, his condescending smugness was the thing that made her consider her next words carefully.
“I’m curious,” she began. “How do you justify your shitty actions, you fucking wanktard?”
Yep. Got him up against the intellectual ropes there, Molly. Way to get to the moral high ground.
Molly ignored Oz. She could feel her fury rising in her blood.
“How do you justify all the things you’ve done, Ms. Bates? Last I checked, you weren’t exactly a saint.”
“I’ve never kidnapped or murdered anyone to save my own skin.”
She had fantasies of blowing his brains out as he stood there, casually handling the knife.
“You haven’t yet. But there is time. You’re still so very young. And with your temperament, and your need to always win,” he raised his eyebrows in the most patronizing way imaginable, “it’s only a matter of time. You’re just like me, Molly Bates.”
He grinned, “Just. Like. Me.”
Molly shook her head, “I’d never do the horrendous things you’ve done. We’re nothing alike.”
“On the contrary,” he told her, now sliding one finger over the back of the blade. “You’re me, just waiting to happen. Given the right mix of circumstances, you’ll bend the rules, twist what is right and wrong; whatever it takes to get a result.” He paused, enjoying the way her lip curled in frustration at his words. “Andus would have loved to have you on his team, I’m sure.”
She moved slightly left, “Well, I’d never join a scheme like yours. Exploiting the innocent. Making people suffer for your own selfish gain. You fucking arsewipe.”
Why don’t you tell him what you really think?
Molly was realizing that the man standing in front of her really didn’t have a conscience; no sense of right or wrong. Then she briefly remembered Joel’s words in their fight earlier about her just changing the rules so she could win. A heaviness hit her stomach.
Maybe Dewitt was right.
She refined her aim on him. She was going to take him down and enjoy the blood splattering everywhere, and that would be that. She would feel so much better if she just let the anger out. She checked her aim again and started to pull the trigger.
He noticed her hesitation.
“You think it’s the right thing to do? To kill me?” He strategically put the knife down on the counter. He was going to either prove his point, or get her to let him go. One way or another, he would win.
Either way, she would have to deal with this conflict within her for years to come.
“Let me ask you something.” He started moving from behind the counter. She kept the weapon trained on him. “How do you justify the choices you’ve been making?”
She answered quickly. “Because I’m helping people. I’m stopping you from killing and exploiting them.”
“By killing.” He let his words linger, as he watched her take his point. She lowered her gun by a fraction of an inch.
The Estarian smiled. “So, you’ve convinced yourself that you’re one of the good guys? That these people are innocent, and they’re the victims? But what if I told you I’m a victim? I’ve been used by people in this system trying to get what they want for years. YEARS!” He slapped his hand against the marble island. “Andus even made me kill my wife to get leverage over me so that I would be loyal to him. He convinced me I would be doing her a favor because she was sick. He made me believe that it was the drug companies to blame. And that’s how he got me into office. Told me I could do some good. And then once I was in, I became his bitch.”
Molly was aware he had taken another step towards her. He kept talking.
“And you don’t think that maybe he could have set you up to clean up one of his messes? Think about it. How did your client find you?” Dewitt looked at her like he knew something she didn’t.
Molly’s mind whirred. She tried to think back. Was it possible? It wouldn’t have been the first time they had been used in a corporate war. Could Andus have set this up from the beginning?
She dropped her aim another inch. Dewitt saw he was getting her to question and think. And thinking would slow her down. He took another step forward.
“Stay right where you are!” she yelled, taking a half step backwards.
Shit, where is Joel when I need him?
“Think about it, Molly. How do you really know you’re one of the good guys?” He took another step.
* * *
Joel had gone up the stair case like a shot. He had followed Henry through to the bedroom. The room looked vacant, but Joel had seen him come through here. He stepped inside and opened the closet.
Nothing.
He sensed movement behind him. He spun around.
There was Henry, with his butt in the air and head and shoulders under the bed, sobbing.
“Get up out of there!” ordered Joel, not quite in his full military voice. This goon clearly wasn’t going to be a danger.
Henry slowly pulled himself out with his hands in the air. “Please, please…don’t kill me. I’ll do what you say! Your mama didn’t raise you to go doing no killing.”
Joel answered like he was on the damned military poster himself. “I was raised by the Central Systems Space Marines. Killing is what I do!”
“Oh, Lordy… I’m going to die!” Sobbing, Henry turned to face his captor, tears running down his face.
“I’m not going to hurt you. Where’s the girl?”
Henry signaled next door.
Joel reached behind him and pulled out some plastic ties. He secured Henry with his hands behind him and his feet bound in front of him, and swept through to the next room.
Seeing the curtain tie round the closet handles, he knew right away where Paige was. He unwrapped the ties and opened the closet door to find a very tearful, scared Paige.
“Can you walk?”
She nodded, her voice breaking. “Yes, I’m fine physically.”
Joel scooped her up with one arm, and hailed Molly on their comm system.
“Molly, where you at? I have the package. We’re good to go.”
Chapter 20
Outside the Dewitt Residence
“You and you,” the security team lead pointed to two of his people. “Around the back. The rest of us will go in at the front.”
The two Estarians the security team boss had signaled took their leave and jogged round the back quickly and stealthily.
Bob Russo had been looking forward to a day off for weeks, but now the shit had hit the fan and the Syndicate needed him and his team for damage control. When he got the call, something told him this wasn’t a situation he could leave his boys to handle on their own. Lucky he had made that decision. The media was blowing up, and he figured the authorities were, at most, a couple of minutes behind them.
This had to be a quick in and out. Dewitt was the target. The orders were to leave no witnesses.
He gathered the three remaining members around the heat app on a dedicated holo device. There were two warm bodies in the kitchen, and three upstairs. And one motionless and slightly cooler in the foyer.
“Looks like they’ve been breached already.” He said, indicating the cooler spot. “My guess is that Dewitt will be one of those in the kitchen, and the girl will be one of those upstairs.”
The team mumbled and muttered their understanding. “Johnson, you take the upstairs with Awad. The rest of us will take the downstairs. Then he clicked on the comm to talk to the two he’d just sent around the back. “Bravo team, we have our target in the kitchen. Be advised, I will be approaching from the front. You need to stop any escape from back there. Alert me when you’re in position.”
“Okay, let’s get ready to breach the front door,” Russo announced to the team around him.
Awad produced a door blaster from his kit belt, and they followed him up to the door.
“We go on three,” Bob instructed in a loud whisper.
“This is Bravo team. We’re in position, boss.” The Bravo team lead spoke through the comm system.
“Received,” Russo acknowledged. “Let’s go!”
* * *
Molly, you should know that there are multiple groups descending on this property. I estimate the paramilitary people with shortwave comms who are just outside will be entering any moment. Front and rear.
Molly thought for a second.
Okay, bring the car to the second floor window nearest Joel.
She clicked onto the internal comm to respond to Joel. “Joel, Oz is bringing the car to your position outside a window. We need to move. I’m on my way up”
“Acknowledged.”
I also detect government police assembling at the top of the driveway. They’re holding their position, though, waiting for someone.
Got it.
“So, what, you’re just going to kill me?” Dewitt brought her attention back to the room.
“No. You deserve far worse than that.”
Dewitt looked confused, and then worried, as she raised her weapon and fired. Twice. The stun hit him square in the chest, and he staggered backwards, shocked. Leaning against the kitchen sink his legs were straggling out in front of him, as he tried to catch his balance.
Molly watched him, confusion, then anger in her eyes.
Why isn’t he going down?
My guess is a stun proof implant. Or vest maybe.
Dewitt, recovered from the shock, was now smirking.
“So you never intended to kill me?” His lip curled up on one side in a sneer. “Maybe you’re not quite the bitch I thought you were.”
There was a blast from the front of the house. Molly turned her head instinctively.
Recovered from the stun, Dewitt was back on his feet and scrambling out the back door. Shots were fired. Real shots. Not stun shots. Molly couldn’t make out what had happened. She counted at least three different weapons.
Time to go, Molly.
Molly was frozen to the spot, waiting. Processing.
Molly. Joel is at the car! The front entrance has now been breached. You’re going to have to get past the troops and the police will be here in two minutes.
Molly was about to move, when there was motion against the back door. Like a thud. Then someone grappling at the handle. Dewitt emerged back into the kitchen, this time bleeding from the left arm, and holding it with the other hand, which was also holding a gun. He slammed and locked the door.
Molly kept her composure, even though she knew she had to leave. “Looks like someone else wants to take you out.”
This was a moment to savor.
Dewitt looked at her, panic in his eyes, as he slumped over the edge of the sink counter top, losing blood. He stumbled and grabbed for the counter on the island in the middle, but missed and fell on the floor. Turning over, he struggled to keep moving, as if he had somewhere to go. Somewhere where he could get to safety.
But there was no safety for a monster like him.
Not in Molly’s mind.
“Not quite the bitch you thought I was?” She walked over to him, standing over him like a dominatrix in full role play mode. The fear in his eyes shifted, as he scanned her with his eyes: legs, then crotch, then breasts, in her atmosuit.
Molly squatted down, fully aware of the effect she was having on him. She reached across to the hand holding the gun, and gently pulled it off the wound where he was bleeding out.
“Let me help you with that,” she said, in a sultry tone, as she rested one knee on his crotch, and put her weight on it. He was hard. Despite the blood loss.
“Seems you’re not going to lose blood fast enough to just bleed out,” she mused, calculating the rate of flow. “There will be time for an ambulance to save you.”
Dewitt looked comforted, as some of the tension in his face relaxed. Molly still had hold of his hand. The hand that was still holding the gun. Gently, sexually, she wrapped her fingers around his. Dewitt was almost smiling again.
Molly turned the gun and moved it under his chin. His finger, with hers on top, was still on the trigger.
“And we can’t have that,” she told him, eyes narrowing.
She squeezed.
His eye widened, suddenly in panic. And then there was emptiness behind them. Molly was aware of blood and brains splattering everywhere. She released the gun, and used her bloody hand instinctively to try and remove the blood and skull and brains that had sprayed across her face and lips.
“I can assure you, I can be every bit the bitch you thought I was,” she said out loud to the bloody mess that was Dewitt.
She let go of the gun and let his hand drop down onto his body, then straightened up. Assessing the amount of blood all over the kitchen cupboards and floor, she was glad she didn’t have to deal with that.
Speaking of not staying…can you move now please? Car is still upstairs.
Best exit out?
Police are on the property. They’ll be heading for the downstairs doors. Upstairs is better, but crawling with the shortwave comm guys.
Molly thought for a second. It had been a while since she’d kicked the shit out of anything. And now, she felt kind of in the mood for it.
Running through the rooms to the hallway and sprinting up the stairs, taking two steps at a time, she heard voices and military boots sweeping the upstairs area. Two guys emerged through the room she had seen the Ogg run back into.
Now nearing the top of the stairs, she pulled her gun out and shot the first one in the head before he could get a bead on her.
The second fired, but missed her. She ran towards him and he didn’t know what to do with himself. Without thinking she smacked him on the cheek bone with the butt of the gun, then shoved him back a little so she could kick him in the solar plexus.
He hit the deck with a crack, landing on his knees.
Ouch, she thought. She’d done that before.
Quickly and playfully, now in full flow and remembering her art, she swung a roundhouse kick across the side of his head, whipping his head sideways on his neck. He fell forward and face-planted on the polished floorboards next to his friend.
She looked up, hearing scuffling and voices down the hall. She checked the first room. No car out of the window.
Two more black-suited guns for hire came out of the room at the far end. They immediately opened fire, but Molly managed to dive and take cover in the second room. Seeing the car outside, she sprinted for it and lunged out the window.
The boots were coming after her. They appeared at the door and started firing just as she scrambled into the car. Oz dropped their altitude to catch her and to take them out of the firing line, while a shower of bullets narrowly missed her and the car.
Settling her ass into the passenger seat, she grabbed the side of it and she shifted herself around enough to close the gull-winged door behind her.
As soon as she had her balance, she shouted. “Drive drive DRIVE!”
A moment later she had the door properly sealed and her seatbelt on. Joel punched the hyperdrive to get them onto the strato highway before anyone could follow them.
At the same time, the police arrived on site, and flooded the building with SWAT and detectives. Letting witnesses escape was going to be the least of the problems for the remaining members of the security team.
Strato highway between Kensington Quarter and Spaceport
Molly stared out of the window up at the scattered old stars of the Loop Galaxy.
At a different time of year she might have been able to glimpse the band of stars called the Pan Galaxy. The ancient humans had called it the Milky Way. Molly never had understood why.
The Pan galaxy had long been swallowing up the Loop, one cluster at a time. Eon by eon, the two collided under unfathomable forces.
Molly wondered what lives were being lived on distant systems like the one where Bethany Anne had come from. Or the one her great-grandparents had fled. She wondered about the races that had come together to live collectively and cooperatively, and the ones that had continued to wage war across whatever silly bit of territory they convinced themselves they owned.
She thought about how they were doing in comparison to these other systems. Here, they had Estarians and Oggs, Secorians and Teshovians, peppered with the occasional human cities and groups. They’d survived like this for a few centuries at least, but there were still telltale signs of the years before the Great Unrest. There were still prejudices and class systems and unconscious, as well as conscious, exclusions.
She felt it every time she walked into a bar, or every time she needed to declare her human designation on a government form.
And as much as it made her feel uncomfortable and out of place, the Sark System was her home. And very soon she was going to have to leave it.
“You doing okay?” Joel looked across at her. Even though Oz was doing the driving, he still felt the need to keep an eye on the road.
Paige was asleep in the backseat, exhausted from the whole ordeal. Joel had given her something to help with the anxiety, and it had probably helped her to sleep.
“Yeah. Lucky to be alive, I guess”, answered Molly, uncharacteristically contemplative.
“Yeah. Not often severe inebriation actually saves your life. Definitely one of those stories that will become legendary as we build up this team,” his gentle chuckle helped her accept his very mild rebuke.
Molly smiled sheepishly.
She glanced over at him. “Hey, look. I’m sorry about before. The trading, and Oz. I just…I didn’t think, and when you called me on it, it just made me feel like I couldn’t do anything right.” She paused a moment before adding, “I’m sorry I reacted so badly.”
Joel could tell she was sorry. Molly couldn’t tell if that was forgiveness or pity in his eyes, though.
“It’s okay, ass-munch. I went in pretty hard on you. I expect you to think like I do, but I know at your core,” he breathed deeply and let it out, “you’re a geek.”
She looked over at him, raising an eyebrow, “Was that meant to sound patronizing?”
“Just a little,” he grinned. Molly knew he had a point.
“I’m going to put it all right. We’ll find the money some other way—a way that you agree with. And I’ll talk these things through with you in the future.”
“And I’ll look forward to lots of interesting, productive debates.” He laughed, and Molly slapped him gently on his side.
“Seriously, though. I get it. As a scientist, you’re bound to process these decisions differently. And that is going to be one of our strengths as a team.”
She snorted. “And you think like a human being, and that’s going to allow us to actually keep a team.” Molly replied, half in jest, but inside she knew it was true. “I’ll keep learning. One day, Joel Dunham. One day I’ll make you proud of my people abilities.”
He looked around before glancing over at her, “Just as long as you keep your geekiness too.”
Paige had woken up a little; she felt drowsy and anxious at the same time. She’d traded a few messages back and forth with Garet before they started driving. Molly had warned her that the jammer was deactivated and any of Dewitt’s people might still be trying to locate them, but it was just so hard not to be in contact.
In Garet’s last message, he’d promised her he’d find the best restaurant in whatever godforsaken off-world community they ended up in, and take her for pizza to celebrate her successful survival.
If she were honest, she couldn’t wait for some semblance of normalcy. She used to crave adventure but today wasn’t the kind of adventure she had meant. She sighed, and let the drowsiness help her drift off again.
“So, did you kill Dewitt?” Joel looked across again at Molly, having made sure that Oz was steering them in the right direction.
Molly glanced back at Paige, as if to say “not in front of the children.”
Joel took the hint, but Molly answered quietly anyway. “My weapon was set to stun. But I used his. You?”
“Nope. Didn’t even need to fire it.” He paused looking out at the road, but clearly wanting to say something.
Molly watched him. Waiting.
Joel glanced at her, his eyes making contact. “You know, you’ve crossed a line you can’t uncross.”
She nodded. He looked back at the road, then returned to her. “You ok?”
She nodded again.
Joel thought she looked numb. Her chest had collapsed in, probably because of the weight of what had just happened. Her shoulders were tense and her facial expression blank.
He wanted to reach over and hold her, but he couldn’t. For one, it was damned awkward in the car. Second, Paige was there and finally, Molly was skittish about that kind of thing at the best of times.
And even if she did just need to be wrapped up in his arms and reassured right now, she’d never tell him.
We’re arriving at the port in thirty seconds.
“Okay, we’re almost there,” Molly communicated, rousing herself from the numbness. She gathered up the bag she’d been nursing on her lap since just after her dramatic entrance into the vehicle.
Oz took them down to ground level and into the driveway entrance. They gave their names at the security gate, and followed the Ogg’s directions around to hangar 08771A.
As they approached, they noticed a car following them in. Oz pulled the car over right outside their hangar, and the other car tucked in behind them on the towpath.
“Looks like our boys,” remarked Joel. “Ready to meet the gentlemen who are going to get us off-world?” he called back to Paige, who was now mostly awake again.
“You betcha!” Despite having been kidnapped, nearly killed, and feeling a little drugged and sleepy still, her spirits were high.
Joel had seen it before. It was the relief. It wouldn’t last. He knew that within twelve hours she would crash and probably hit some form of depression or post-traumatic stress. And that’s when she’d need them and Garet the most.
That’s when she would need to belong to a team that had her back and was on her side. As a twenty-five-year-old half Estarian/half human, she was probably no stranger to being an outsider, so Joel prepared himself for the potential difficulty of getting through to her.
He knew what he was going to do for the next twelve hours: anchor in as much friendship and team spirit and support with her as he could, so she had something to hold on to.
Nothing could get in the way of this.
He just needed to make sure he briefed Molly on his plan too. Not that she’d deliberately throw a spanner in the works, but Molly was Molly.
They emptied out of the car and made their greetings to Crash and Brock.
“What’s your real name?” Paige asked Crash.
“Chris Ashworth. But that’s just too boring, so I go by my call sign,” he grinned.
“Yes, boring and straight-laced, which ain't nothing like your personality!” teased Brock, waving his fingers like he was sprinkling his old friend with fairy dust.
“So, you guys know each other?” Paige asked innocently.
Crash hesitated.
Brock took over the conversation. “You bet we know each other. We served together for eight looooong years. We have some war stories to tell you later.” He draped his arm around Paige, and wandered over to the hangar door. Joel wondered for a moment if Brock could tell what she had been through, or whether he was always just this friendly. Something told him Brock wasn’t interested in girls, and that made him spontaneously bringing Paige under his wing all the sweeter. He smiled to himself.
The team really seemed to be bonding instinctively.
“Okay, let’s get this baby open!” announced Molly, pulling up the holo details and rallying her new gang over to the hangar door.
She went through the unlocking procedure that she’d been sent by the vendors in the event that they wouldn’t be present for the handover.
After a sequence of retinal scans and code confirmations, the handover was complete. She keyed the final code into a different keypad to open the hangar door.
The enormous door rolled upwards, revealing the interior one rotation on the cog at a time.
“WHOOP!” a sudden yell occurred in the quiet. “That is one badass motherfucker of a ship!” exclaimed Brock, echoing everyone’s thoughts.
“Can we call it ‘Serenity’?” he asked, referencing the famous human sci-fi show from the archives.
Crash was straight in with a response. “No, we damn well can’t! You know what happened to that bird? I ain’t doing no leaf in the wind kinda shit.”
The group erupted in laughter. All except Joel, who just looked at them, having completely missed the reference.
“We’ll name her eventually,” said Molly. “But right now, we need to get off-world as soon as possible. Any news on the supplies?” She looked to Brock and Crash.
Crash responded. “No, nothing. And we asked the gate to let us know if anything came in.”
Okay, Oz, can you check into that and let them know we have possession, so we’re ready for them any time now?
On it.
She turned back to the group. “The sellers assured me she was ready to fly, and all the paperwork says so too. But we need to do our own checks as part of the taking-possession sequence.” She turned back to Crash and Brock. “That’s why you gentlemen are here at this godforsaken hour.”
“Nah uh. That’s why I am here,” Brock corrected her. Then he jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “He’s just here to look pretty, you know what I mean?”
The group laughed again.
“Anyway, I’ve got work to do. Have they sent over the checklists and manuals yet?” Crash asked Molly.
Molly looked at her holo. “Yeah, lemme send the bundle to you both and then you can get going.” Molly pulled up the info packs they needed and bumped holos with them each in turn, transferring the files.
Joel stepped in, getting the rest of the group organized.
“All right, we have a plan. Crash and Brock will get going with the possession checks and preflight, and take receipt of the supplies when they get here. The rest of us will get back to the safe house to pack up and collect Garet. Then we’ll meet back here soon as we can.”
Everyone seemed to be in agreement. As Joel and Paige got back into the car, Molly told Crash and Brock, “if you need anything, just holo. Parts, approvals, anything.”
The pair nodded.
“How are you fixed for leaving when we’re set? Say by noon tomorrow? Is that reasonable for the checks?” She glanced at Brock to see if her request was practical.
Crash answered instead. “Yeah. It’s possible. I’ll need to cycle back home to pick up my kit, but that works for me. Brock?”
“Yo, I’m ready to go as soon as this bird is. My gear is in my car.”
The two looked happy. They had their work cut out for them, but this was the mission of a lifetime—and they got to call the shots without any technical supervisors or interference.
“Excellent.” Molly grinned at their forming team.
Molly got into the car while talking with Oz in her head.
Okay, we still need to find a safe house. When we leave tomorrow, we need to know what direction we’re going, at least. Can you draw up a short list based on the criteria we already started working on?
Of course. I’ll have something for you to review soon.
Perfect.
Chapter 21
The Dewitt Residence, Kensington Quarter
Detective Chaakwa Indius stood in the middle of one of the most beautiful kitchens she’d ever seen, looking over the mangled body of William Dewitt.
He was riddled with bullet holes; someone wasn’t leaving his demise to chance.
The rest of her team circulated, collecting intel and assisting the forensic science teams. There were blood samples in this room and the one above. Some were already known to be Estarian, but there was one Estarian/human sample. That would narrow the search down.
She wandered through the living room, where everything was pretty much undisturbed.
“Make sure we get 3D scans of everything. I want to be able to walk every room of this place in simulation down the line; this was a hit. We need to treat it as such. We’ll find the sons of bitches that did this”
“Never had you pegged as a homicide kinda girl.”
She looked up. There was a handsome Ogg standing in the doorway, casually taking notes on his holo.
“I never had you pegged as a guy who crashed other officers’ crime scenes,” she responded without missing a beat.
“Good to see you, Chaakwa,” he replied, smiling.
“You too. Now get out of my crime scene,” she grinned back.
“Captain said you might need some help. Purely advisory, of course. I know better than to poach your cases.”
“Well, since you’re here, I wouldn’t say no.” She paused. “As long as you have no intention of poaching this case off me?”
Detective Antonio Rogers made a cross over his middle where his heart would have been.
“Well, good then. I was going to try and reconstruct what happened upstairs. Care to join me?”
“Lead the way!” He made a majestic gesture towards the doorway he’d been standing in, and Chaakwa mock-bowed as she carefully extracted herself from the room, watching where she was walking to avoid accidentally treading on evidence.
“What’s going on here?” Antonio asked, following her up the stairs.
“I’m not sure yet. We’re still trying to figure out exactly how many people were here. Dewitt would have had security, but they’re nowhere to be seen. From the blast pattern, it looks like military equipment was used to take the door out quickly and quietly. Military haven’t admitted to any involvement yet. So we’re working on the theory that this was a paramilitary group with instructions to silence Dewitt before we got to him.”
She mentioned the blood samples.
“The half-human one might prove useful,” he agreed. “Perhaps even traceable, if they’re in the system.” With his experience on homicide, Antonio knew that these things could take a bit of investigation to get all the elements involved tied together. Truth be told, he didn’t think he could crack this case without the insight Chaakwa had into the political scene.
He was glad just to be assisting on this case.
And there was no doubt in either of their minds that this was politically motivated, considering the story that had just broken.
“We’re canvassing the area in case anyone heard anything that might help, and one of the guys is working on getting into the security footage,” Detective Indius continued briefing him.
She led the way up the wraparound staircase Joel and Molly had bolted up less than an hour before.
“This is the room where we found the only other blood source. The half-and-half.”
She walked in and opened the closet where Paige had been kept. “We think he may have had a hostage, and that the blood is from a graze or a head wound. Not enough for a bullet injury.”
“Let’s put a rush on that blood sample. That person may be our only witness to what went down here,” Antonio suggested.
“You think they got away? Safely?” asked Chaakwa, a sense of urgency returning to her voice.
“Hard to tell with the state of the place. It does look like a professional intervention. If the second force was related to the other bad guys, it doesn’t bode well. It may be a continued hostage situation.”
Safe house, fifty kilometers west of Uptarlung
Returning from the Spaceport, Oz pulled the car up at the safe house. Garet came running out and barely let Paige get out of the car before he had his arms around her.
“I was so worried,” he told her. “Are you okay?” He fussed and helped her into the house. Paige was looking fatigued again, despite dozing in the car.
Joel noticed Molly watching them as they went into the house. The two of them remained in the car.
Joel spoke. “She’s going to crash in a few hours. She won’t be herself for a while, and we’re going to have to help her deal with that.”
“What do you mean, ‘not herself’?” Molly was genuinely curious. This Sarkian insight shit was beyond her.
“Well, she’s going to be moody. Cranky. She’ll probably say things that she doesn’t really mean, simply because she’s trying to figure out what happened to her, and why it happened to her and not someone else. Her relationship with Garet will probably shift too.”
“How?” asked Molly, her eyes on the open door. Light was spilling out of the house and onto the gravel. For a second she remembered the last time she had been here, then forced her attention back to what Joel was saying.
“Well, if their bond isn’t that strong, she’s going to eventually see that all this was because of him and that she doesn’t want to be with him anymore.”
“Ha! Well, she practically fessed up to that before we were taken. I guess the kidnapping gives her a nice out.” Molly’s voice was cynical.
If anyone else were there Joel would have found it inappropriate, but he couldn’t help smiling at her interpretation of the situation.
“Saves her doing the whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ thing!” he agreed.
Molly’s eyes, only half-seeing and somewhat trancelike, were still fixed on the open door. “Reckon we should get our asses inside?”
“Sure.” Joel got out and grabbed some of his gear, then went around to the other side to help Molly, who was moving a little slower. He had thought that by talking with her about Paige’s reaction, he might make her aware that she would probably go through something similar.
He was going to keep a close eye on her, too.
He grabbed her stuff from her and helped her into the house. Once they had settled back in, he found Molly in the kitchen and offered to go get some pizzas for them all. “Then we can sleep for a few hours before we move out to the ship and get going, eh?”
“Good plan,” agreed Molly. She nearly offered to go with him to pick up the food, but she was exhausted and her head was spinning. Deciding to stay put, she poured herself a mocha and sat down at the kitchen table to recover.
She heard Joel leave. Though things were much better between them post-rescue (and apology), the sound of the door closing triggered the feeling and memory of when Joel had left the last time.
She laid her head on her folded arms and closed her eyes.
Neechie appeared on the table and plunked himself next to her. She’d never admit it to Joel, but the sphinx was actually quite a comfort.
Pizza Parlor, near the safe house
Joel pulled up at their local pizza take-out.
“How’s it going, Bill?” he called across to the Ogg as he closed the door behind him.
“Greetings of the wee hours to you, Joel. It’s going well. You look like shit! Everything okay?” He peered over the counter before hopping up onto his step.
“Yeah, rough day is all.”
The Ogg nodded sympathetically.
“The usual, then?” he asked.
“Yeah, but double it up. We’ve got friends over tonight.”
“Oh, those two Oggs that were here?” the Ogg was confused. He was sure they had been looking for someone else. Maybe he was just mistaken. He suddenly wished he hadn’t said anything.
“Which two Oggs?” Joel remained calm, not wanting to spook his new informant. He’d had a lot of experience in getting intel out of people in a relaxed way.
Across the board, studies and his experience had shown recall was best when people thought they were just talking casually.
“Yeah, well…I dunno. There were these two guys came in here looking for a girl, who might be with a guy. I mentioned that you had just moved to the neighborhood recently. Mind, one of them said the girl was a cousin, but given that your girl is human, I thought it probably wasn’t you.”
“Did you tell them where we live?” Joel tried to hide the rising concern in his face. Putting it together, he realized that these were the two guys they had stunned at Dewitt’s place, and that they had already taken the girls from the safe house. But this was how they had found them?
He wanted to kick himself.
“I dunno where you live. You never have delivery. But I suggested they try the old place just down the way, which might have been where you would be. So they weren’t your friends, then?”
“No. But thanks for the heads up.” Joel got his credits out, behaving as casually as he could.
After bartering with Bill to take two pizzas that were almost done so he didn’t have to wait, he emerged with food two minutes later, walking more purposefully than normal. He placed the pizzas onto the passenger seat in the car and fired up his holo to dial Molly. He couldn’t reach her.
He tried Garet.
“Hey…” Garet answered. There was background noise, like a hairdryer. Then a door closed, and the noise deadened. “What’s up?” Garet asked.
“We’ve got to move. We’re not safe in the house,” he admitted.
“What do you mean?” Garet was confused.
“I mean we’ve got to move. Get everyone rounded up. We have to leave. The guys who kidnapped the girls from the house, they know where we are. They could be sending more people after us.”
Joel was adamant he wasn’t going to take any risks with these people. They had caught them off guard once. Well, twice. It wasn’t going to happen again.
“Ok, I’ll tell Molly when she gets out of the shower.”
“No time. You have to tell her now,” Joel insisted.
“She’s in the shower. She doesn’t hear anything in there,” he protested.
Joel answered curtly. “Walk the fuck in.”
Garet went quiet on the line.
“Dude, are you there?” Joel checked the connection on his holo.
“Yeah…” Garet said quietly, as if his voice had evaporated.
“It’s ok. Bang on the door now. And tell her.”
Joel could hear Garet banging on the bathroom door. “Molly. We’ve got to go. Joel says it’s not safe!”
Joel spoke loudly. “Go in! For the love of your fucking ancestors. I’ll be there in three minutes.”
Joel started the car and raced back to the safe house as fast as he could.
* * *
By the time he arrived back at the safe house, he’d thought through the permutations in his mind.
What this also meant was that their safe house was known to be temporary accommodation, somewhere where strangers might be staying. He would never allow them to make such a fucking ignorant mistake again.
The other thing was that if those two Oggs could find them, then anyone who wanted to tie up loose ends would be able to as well. Though Dewitt was out of play, they had no way of knowing what other forces might still be at work.
“Ok people, let’s wrap this up,” he called as he walked through the door. Paige emerged with her bag, half-dressed and with half-styled damp raven hair.
“You got everything?” Joel asked her.
She nodded. “Just need my jacket in the other room.”
“Grab it, then get to the car. We’re leaving in two minutes.” He had already walked past her and into Molly’s room.
Molly was putting a shirt on, and quickly turned around as he walked in.
“What the fuck, Joel?” As she scrambled to button it, Joel couldn’t be sure she was even wearing a bra.
She turned back to him, her eyes scowling. “So now both you and Garet have had an eyeful.”
“Come on, Mols, I’ve seen more than that in the co-ed bathrooms on base.” His face was serious, but he knew that he would get real shit for this later. “You ready?”
“Yeah. I need to grab some gear from the other room. You bringing your Master?”
He looked confused.
“Your sphinx?” she clarified.
His eyes widened. “Shit. Yes.” He almost ran out of her room, presumably to find the sphinx. Molly rolled her eyes as she finished dressing and packing and shoved a bra into her back pocket to make a point.
Car and personnel loaded up, Joel emerged from the not-so-safe house with a makeshift crate holding the sphinx. He secured the crate in the back seat between Paige and Garet, then hopped into the front and got the car underway before relinquishing control to Oz.
“So, it looks like we know how the Oggs found this place.” he started.
Molly looked over. “Pizza guy?”
“Pizza guy,” he confirmed.
“Damn it.” She chewed on her bottom lip, “We were deliberately so careful.”
Joel nodded. “Yeah, all this time we could have had delivery instead of me dragging my ass out in the dust and radiation to go and pick it up.”
“Ah, well, it’s saved you having to get a facial peel.” Molly smiled. There was nothing they could do about it now.
“We’ll be much safer at the hanger. No one knows about that purchase, right?” Joel looked across at Molly.
Affirmative.
“Right. Oz is confident,” confirmed Molly.
She paused for a moment, watching out of the window as they gained altitude onto the strato highway. “But in light of this I need to give Oz some more criteria on our next safe house off-world. I wonder how we find ‘not somewhere with a pizza place that gives out our location’?”
“I think it means finding sneakier ways to be extra careful. Maybe like a decoy residence,” he mused, glad that Molly wasn’t too freaked out about the revelation.
Her eyes opened, “Ooh, that might be a plan.”
I’ll factor that in and re-run the search on possible options.
Thanks, Oz.
“You guys all right back there?” Joel called to Garet and Paige.
“Yes,” they said in unison. They looked at each other and smiled. The relief of Paige’s return was palpable.
“Ok. We’ll get to the hanger and then we might be able to relax a little. I’ll be much more comfortable once we’re off-world.
“Hey,” Garet seemed to remember something. “Didn’t you get pizza?”
Joel put his hand to his head. “Shit!”
Molly’s eyes snapped across at him suddenly. “What? You forgot the pizza?” Her eyes flared as if she were ready to lay all hell at his feet.
Joel allowed his hand to drop down his face, revealing his smile.
“Back shelf,” he called back to Garet.
Molly couldn’t help but laugh. Garet scuffled around, located the still-hot pizza and started handing out slices with napkins as Oz carried them safely to the Spaceport for their final escape.
Andus’ Office, Undisclosed location
“He’ll need replacing, of course.”
“Of course,” Jessica agreed, as she lounged on what she called her couch in Andus’ office. After all, none of the other Syndicate members would visit him so often as to stake a claim on any of his furniture. Andus had agreed to her point one evening as they sat shooting the breeze and hatching diabolical plans that would make them untouchable in the courts.
Tonight, though, Andus was in one of his moods. As cold and unattached to people as he liked to come across, Jessica knew it disturbed him that one of his own people fucked him over. Andus wasn’t the kind of guy who dealt with disappointment well.
“Who is it this time?” she asked casually, sipping on her martini.
“Dewitt.”
“Still? I mean, again? I thought we were done with him yesterday?” she peered at him over the edge of her glass, enjoying the scent of the orange peel she’d had added to give it some zing.
“Technically, yes. He no longer walks this planet. But it bothers me still, okay?”
She took another sip, taking in what he had confessed. “You do realize you were the one who decided to get rid of him, even before the fiasco with this employee?”
“Yes, I’m well aware of that, Ms. Newld, but I would have liked to have done it on my terms. Besides, this puts us in a predicament. The Senate race ends in eight weeks and now we have no candidate. Dewitt was well positioned, and after the bill went through he would have been the people’s champion. Now, in death, he’s a disgrace.”
He paused to slump back down into the huge swivel chair behind his desk. He reached across to his humidor and pulled out some smoky comfort.
He looked over the hand-rolled plant and slid a finger along it, breaking the seal. “Where are we going to find a replacement in less than eight weeks?” His question was more of a statement of impossibility.
Jessica had shifted into a daze, or trance, or whatever it was she did.
Jessica Newld’s family had a long history with large and powerful commercial enterprises, but also of ancestors slipping over into the etheric when they died. This gave her an extra edge that Andus was pleased to have at his disposal. Not that he knew quite what the resource was, but she would often come back out of these episodes with information she had no way of accessing otherwise.
Andus lit his cigar, sucking on it to get it to light. He was somewhat comforted as he did so that he had his best person actively on the case.
A few moments later, Jessica seemed to be present behind her eyes again. She gathered herself together and reached into her handbag for her lipstick and mirror.
“Well?” asked Andus, waving his cigar like a mafia boss.
“We need do nothing right now. The candidate will become apparent to us in about three weeks.”
“But that’s three weeks doing nothing when we could be running down other possibilities.”
“It’ll be a waste of effort if you did. But if you must…” Jessica came out of these trances often less engaged in the problem.
It was as if whatever she saw back there made her so convinced that what was unfolding was inevitable, the immediate problem just became unimportant to her.
Jessica finished reapplying her lipstick, and put the mirror and makeup back into her bag. “Let’s go out,” she said.
Andus had to admit it was a good idea. At least it would be a distraction from the moment-to-moment torture of uncertainty he now felt. And it sure beat trying to catch a falling knife, which is how it felt right now with these short news cycles.
His normal reporting channels were still scrambling to figure out their asses from their elbows, now that they’d lost their candidate and one of their champions for their bill.
He got up from his desk. Cigar in hand, he led the way out of the office, beckoning Jessica to follow. Perhaps we should try that new bar down on 3rd Street, he mused as he holoed for the car to be brought around to the front.
Jessica took another sip of her half-finished martini and set the glass back on the end table. Getting up, she grabbed the atmojacket that she had draped over the back of the silk-edged sofa when she had waltzed in not twenty minutes before, then followed Andus out of the office to the car.
There were perks to spending one’s free time with other members of the city’s powerful and wealthy elite. Daddy would approve of her choice in friends.
Chapter 22
Spaceport, Hangar 08177A
“Hi hi!” Paige called out, being the first to wander in through the open hangar door. “Crash? Brock? You guys here?” Garet followed closely behind her.
The sun wasn’t yet up, but the sky showed signs that the night was ending. Paige couldn’t help but think there was something weird about seeing the morning from this end. Nonetheless, it tied in nicely with the planet-hopping they were about to do. You really started to appreciate that day and night came from the rotation of the planet, rather than being an inevitable demarcation of your day.
Paige put her bag down just inside the door. She hadn’t brought much, just what she’d taken to work with her that morning when she’d pulled the download and then fled from work with Molly. Molly had given her some t-shirts and military sweats as a change of clothes, but she felt like she was walking around in her pajamas. She was excited about this new adventure, but damn she wished she had some of her own clothes.
She noticed her fingernails as she placed her bag on the hangar floor. The polish was chipped and needed redoing. Badly. This wasn’t like her. But it was something that was going to have to wait until later when they were safe again.
Garet put his gear down too and put an arm around her, pulling her close and giving her a squeeze. She had just started to relax into it when he got distracted and moved away to look at the enormous ship that completely filled the hangar, wing tip to wing tip.
A second later there was movement from underneath it.
Brock emerged from the underbelly and walked over. “Yo! How’s it going, girlfriends…and Joel?” He winked at Garet by way of introduction. Way to piss off a new person, thought Joel.
Still, he couldn’t help but smile. The guy radiated light, as if his ancestors were holding candles within him. Garet understood the joke and reached out his hand to introduce himself.
“Ah, so you the one that this lovely lady risked life and limb to save! You must be a great man. I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance, sir.” They shook hands.
“Crash ain’t here. He went to grab his gear and some breakfast for us. But we gonna be ready to go any time he gets back. We’ve got the flight plans submitted. Just waiting to hear about our window.” He turned to Molly, who had just joined them in the hangar and was carefully placing the crate with Neechie down on the floor. “Your supplies showed up a few hours ago. The delivery guys helped us load them, so we’re ready to go when Crash gets here.”
“Great!” said Molly. “Ok, so the bottlenecks are approval and a flight window?”
Joel knew where she was heading.
“And Crash. Who ain’t here,” qualified Brock.
“How long till he gets here?” she asked.
Brock checked the time on his holo. “Forty minutes, max.”
“Ok. See what you can do to hustle for a flight window soon. If you can charm, bribe or threaten your way to the front of the queue, then great.” She could feel Joel’s eye on her as she slipped into her old way of doing things. “This is urgent. If we can legitimately take off as soon as Crash gets here, do it. Otherwise, we pay the fine for skipping ahead of our takeoff window.”
Brock nodded. “You think we’re still in danger?”
She glanced over at Joel to check he was still of the same opinion. “Yeah. The safe house was compromised. It’s just a matter of time before they track us here. It’s going to happen. I want us to be off-world when they do.”
“And you ain’t talking about the police, right?”
“No. It’s not the police. It’s people who want us dead. Silenced.” Her face was serious. “So see if you can raise Crash on his holo too, and tell him to step on it.”
Brock nodded, agreeing they weren’t home free yet.
Molly, satisfied they were doing all they could to get away faster, nodded back to the sphinx crate she had set down. “Hey Joel, you forgot your cat in the car.”
Joel dropped his gear on the ground, then spun around and jogged over to the crate. He cooed and chatted to Neechie as he went.
Brock looked at him, one hand on his hip. “We have a sphinx coming with us?” he asked.
Joel had picked up the carrier. “New team member,” he called out.
“Don’t you guys know that everyone is a slave to a cat? Now we got how many bosses?” Brock raised his voice and his hand in mock outrage.
“I tried to tell him,” Molly said, giving Joel the “I-told-you-so” look.
“Ok, let’s get everyone and the gear on board double-time,” Molly announced to the group, marching straight down the hangar, looking for the entrance.
Brock nodded toward the ship. “You can head up the ramp at the back. We haven’t quite figured out all the doors and hatches on this thing yet, and Crash thought it would be best to leave them all sealed until we have more time.”
“Good move!” yelled Molly from the other end of the hangar. The sound of stomping on the metal grating suggested she was already halfway up the ramp. Garet was impressed by how fast she could move with a heavy pack. He wondered if it was the human genes or a military thing.
Garet followed her.
Paige bent down to pick up her bag.
“How you holding up, girl?” Brock asked her sympathetically as he started to pull up Crash’s number to give him a heads up.
“I’m doing okay. I could probably sleep for a week, my eye makeup is a mess and I really need a manicure.” She showed him her nails. “But, apart from that...” her voice trailed off. There was a sadness in her eyes.
Brock reached over and pulled her in for a simple hug.
“You know what?” Brock looked around like he was sharing a secret. “I got me some gear in my bag. When we get this bird in the air, you and me are at least getting that chipped stuff off and making you feel Sarkian again. Deal?” Paige smiled and nodded, a tear escaping from her eyes and trickling quickly down her face. She wiped it with her sleeve and felt another forming.
Brock hugged her again as she finally burst into tears, letting the tension break. They stayed like that until Paige decided she needed to breathe again. Brock let her pull away, noticing that Joel had quietly taken his pack and his feline team member into the ship.
“Go get your gear on board and choose your seat. And if you want some company, I can always use an extra hand down here. But if you want to chill, girl, you just go chill. Kay?”
She nodded, wiping her face again.
“Thanks, Brock. You’re the best.” She smiled again through the tears and waved to Brock as she turned and walked down the side of the ship after the others.
Brock sighed, then gathered his thoughts for the list of shit he had to finish to get this bird up faster than they had anticipated.
He noticed that his holo just pinged. “Yeah, Crash? There’s been a change of plans. We need you here, stat.”
On board the XC-0094B
Molly was on board, and in a flash had assessed the crew facilities. She watched the others scramble up the ramp. If they could be out of here in forty minutes, they might just be ahead of any cam processing that the police or hackers could do.
She scanned the area around her. The upper deck was full of passenger seats, enough for about fifteen soldiers and their gear plus support personnel. The cockpit had four seats, two in front and two behind. Weapons were controlled from the two rear seats, as they had a view of the sides of the ship.
Downstairs was the domain of engineering. There was lots of space and they could probably retrofit a few of the areas down the line, but it seemed sensible to keep the weight down as much as possible. That would give the ship more maneuverability and use less fuel on entry and exit of atmosphere.
She plonked her gear down near the front of the passenger area. “Okay, listen up, folks.” She waited for their attention. “Front is for sleeping.” She indicated the first half-dozen rows of chairs. “These chairs recline into resting positions, and it’ll be quiet up here.”
“Talking is at the back, and drinking,” she smiled as she said it, “is in the cargo hold. I know how raucous you guys can get when you knock back a few beers!” She blushed a little, making a joke at herself, and heard a couple of chuckles from the other three.
“Joel, can you find out what is in those crates, please? If they don’t explode or break, we can probably use them for sitting on.”
Joel nodded and jogged back down the ramp to talk to Brock.
“I think there are shower and restroom facilities downstairs. There should be a ladder in the cargo hold for getting down there. Garet, you want to investigate and let us know what condition it’s in? We might need to run out for some domestic supplies. But we have to be fast.”
Garet nodded and started looking around the crates to find a hole in the floor that would lead to the lower deck. Eventually he found it, and discovered the ladder there. This must be it, he thought to himself.
Paige dropped her bag and looked around awkwardly. Molly didn’t want to coddle her. Even if she did, she wouldn’t know how.
Joel reemerged. “Nothing breakable or explosive in those crates. And they’re pretty sturdy, according to Brock. We’re good to sit on them and stack them if we want.” He immediately started rearranging them, lifting and clearing until he’d made a little cubby with a table and “chairs” for about six people.
Meanwhile, Garet emerged to report on the facilities downstairs. “All looks good. These are nice digs. We’ll need soap, towels, and, well, everything else, to be honest. Have we got time to hit a store?”
Molly nodded. “Yeah, but fast. Be back in less than thirty. Take someone with you. Joel has credits. Don’t use cards, tokens, or anything traceable. Don’t talk to anyone. Don’t get recognized. Don’t make any calls. And you may want to pick up a couple of changes of clothes for you and Paige while you’re there.”
Paige heard what was going on, her ears pricking up at the word “clothes”.
“I’ll come with you.” She saw her chance to be able to dress in something a little more flattering and comfortable than Molly’s sweats.
Molly smiled to herself, understanding Paige’s eagerness. She was about to go back to her holo when Joel caught her eye.
“I’m going with you,” he announced to Garet and Paige. Molly nodded, understanding his unspoken reasoning about keeping their clients safe.
“Less than thirty,” Molly called down to them all. “If you’re not back, we’re heading off-world without you.” She was teasing, obviously. But she said, very poignantly, “Paige…”
Paige spun round amongst the bustle and activity, mock offense on her face.
She was about to protest, but Molly got there first. “I said fast. Grab a few outfits and get going. There isn’t time for a full makeover. I mean it!”
Paige pretended to flounce out through the cargo area. “It’s so unfair. You never let me do what I want, Mom!” The final word was a well-placed dig, considering Molly’s extreme lack of mothering abilities.
Touché, Paige. Touché, she thought.
Joel and Garet jogged after her down the ramp, laughing.
Okay, so where are we at with our safe house list?
Given the last tweak to the variables and the second filter we applied, we have a choice of three. One of them seems like an anomalous result that didn’t show up the first time we made a search request. It’s actually outside the locations we were looking at, in the asteroid belt before we get to the Outer System.
And we didn’t search that location. I didn’t even know there was any population there.
Neither did the rest of the world. It looks like something that someone has gone to great lengths to keep a secret. I’ve found redacted files on a military server and deleted files elsewhere.
But it fits our criteria?
Seems to.
Complete with enough civilization to get supplies.
Yes. There is an arrangement where orders are shipped to the moon of an outer planet, and the community has them picked up every month or two.
Odd.
Yeah. It looks like the kind of place where people go to be forgotten.
Very forgotten. What else do we know?
Population about thirty thousand, mixed races. Simple living, though the tech is pretty up to date with the Central Systems for such a small population. They must be importing.
That bodes well for our purposes. Any civil unrest? Mafia? Political system?
It looks like they govern themselves.
With a population that small it’s plausible. What about the safe house itself?
It’s a converted theater. It’s got living quarters now, but also lots of space which will be useful when we start building the labs and operations areas. They have a town nearby with bar, and—
It has a bar?
Yes.
Okay. It’s probably the right place, then.
Molly, choosing a place based on the location of the nearest bar?
Oz, I’m messing with you. But seriously, it does sound like a good option. And it may get us around the issue we had with the pizza place being able to give Dewitt’s people a heads up on where we might be staying. If there is no supply traffic in and out and it’s only the residents picking up supplies from a drop, it reduces the risk and would take more work to find us. Especially if we’re careful about what we order. We’ll need to keep our purchases under the radar, or coming in from outside the Sarkian system, I guess.
Okay. Want to hear about the other two options?
Yeah, shoot.
Chapter 23
Hangar 08771A, Aboard the XC-0094B
“Okay, I’m ready when our passengers get here,” called Crash from the cockpit.
He’d gotten back not long after the others had left for the store. Molly wondered if she really should have let them go, but where they were headed they were going to need the supplies. After a few more hours on this bird, she’d definitely want to shower and relax a little.
“Okay. Well, Paige is shopping for clothes. I suspect that might be the determining factor here,” she commented back to him.
Crash laughed.
He seemed pretty relaxed about everything, though. No agitation to get going, and no apprehension. But then, that was the general demeanor of these pilots in her experience. She’d known a few on base, and they always seemed to have everything together. She watched from her seat as he ran speedily through a checklist projected onto his leg from his holo. His fingers flew over holographic buttons and switches, then hesitated occasionally as he needed to locate a button that wasn’t in the layout he was used to.
Out the front window she could see the hangar walls. In a few hours she’d be looking out at space. Actual space…
So we’re decided? I should put in the request?
Yes, I think it’s a good option. And a great price. Let me know if you need me to do anything, but let’s book her up. And perhaps go for a twelve-month lease, if that’s possible?
Processing now… Okay, funds cleared, contracts approved.
That was bloody fast!
They have an automated system set up on the other end.
But we could be anyone.
No, I already went through some pre-check protocols when we were first discussing it as an option.
Oh, great stuff!
There was a commotion coming from the cargo area. Molly could hear what sounded like a hundred boots traipsing up the ramp. The laughing and chattering was the only thing that gave away that it wasn’t an invading army.
“Looks like the cavalry has arrived,” Molly commented to Crash.
“Yeah, and it sounds like they brought friends from the frat house!” He hit some switches, which seconds later resulted in systems firing up. “All right, Brock, we’ve got our payload. We all set down there?” he asked through his comm.
Molly got up from her seat and wandered to the back of the ship. Paige was just making her way up the ramp, laden with shopping bags.
“Okay, those go downstairs to the bathrooms,” Joel instructed Garet, who started for the ladder to the downstairs area. “These are for the kitchen.” He plunked the bags he was carrying down on the makeshift kitchen table he had arranged earlier.
“Those are all Paige’s.” He waved at Paige, who was still tottering up the last few steps to the cargo hold. “And there’s another load in the car.” he concluded to Molly, very satisfied with his domestic prowess.
“Okay, lemme give you a hand with those.” Molly started making her way through the hold and down the ramp. Joel followed her, overtaking her as he jogged down the ramp.
Molly looked over to Joel. “How’s Paige holding up?” she asked, once they were on the ground and out of earshot.
“She seems okay, considering. I don’t think it’s quite hit her yet. She’s in the best environment for it, though. The people who saved her, the camaraderie—she’ll get through it.”
“And Garet?”
“Look at you, all concerned, leader!” Joel teased. Molly gently hit him with the back of her hand.
Brock was heading past them in the opposite direction. He nodded to the pair and slipped past to board the ship, saying nothing.
“Seriously, though,” continued Joel, “he seems like he’s handling it all pretty well. He’s just pleased to have Paige back. He was a mess when we realized that you two were missing, but he seems to have bounced back okay.”
“Good…” Molly seemed deep in thought.
Joel looked at her sideways, “Why, whatcha thinking?”
“Well, I’m just not used to the people thing, and we’re going to be taking them out of their home environment in a cramped ship and then staying in the middle of nowhere for ancestors know how long. I’m just aware that there might be problems with this. And I don’t know what shape they’ll take, or if we’re going to be able to manage them.”
Joel stopped walking.
Molly finally noted he wasn’t with her and turned back to look at him, only to have him step forward and clamp his hands on her shoulders.
“Now you listen to me, Molly Bates. You’ve gotten them this far. You’ve done a great job. And we did it all while keeping our consciences and wits intact. Everything is going to be fine, but more than that, you are turning into one hell of a leader.”
She opened her mouth to protest.
“And yes, you have some things to learn when it comes to social niceties and running a team of individuals, and not drinking during a job. Hell, so does anyone when it comes to leadership.” He thought a moment, “Maybe not the drinking during an op part. But then, I shouldn’t have stormed off, either. You’re doing great. And little by little, you will do better. No, we will do better.”
Molly took a deep breath, and then exhaled, surrendering the tension that had played on her since she got into this new line of work.
“Okay,” she said, smiling a little.
“And for those times when it’s all too much, I picked up an extra case or two of beer.” They continued and got to the car and he popped the trunk, revealing two large cases of the stuff.
“You weren’t kidding!” exclaimed Molly.
Molly, seems someone has been accessing the traffic cams and has viewed footage of us arriving at the Spaceport the first time. I suspect we will have company very soon.
How soon?
I’m scanning for communications and approaching vehicles. Nothing yet.
She closed the trunk. “We’ve got company on its way. No time estimate yet. We need to get gone,” she told Joel.
“I’ll get the car stowed in the lower level then.” He quickly pulled up his holo to communicate with Crash. “We have intel that bogies are en route. Drop the access to stow the car, and then we need to get out of here.”
“Roger that,” Crash acknowledged. The engines started whirring and a port opened under the ship. Molly left Joel to bring the car inside so they could get mobile.
She hurried back up to the ship.
Anything?
Yes. We have two trucks coming in from Spire. The registrations trace back to one of the corporations. They’re heading our way. ETA six minutes.
Molly paced over to the cockpit. “Anything we can do about the takeoff permission, Crash?”
Crash flicked another switch, before turning to her. “Not much. Problem is, we don’t know what else is going on at the airfield.”
Oz, can you help?
Already on it. If we taxi to Takeoff Pad A, we have a window now.
“We’ve got a safe window at Pad A. Can you get us there?”
Crash nodded. “Yeah, if you’re cool that we’ll be slapped with a fine?”
“Yes, I’ll take care of that. Let’s get out of here.” Molly swung round to let the others know what was going on as Joel came jogging up the ramp.
Within two minutes, the ship was out of the hangar.
Apprehension laced the air as Crash taxied them out to the liftoff area. Molly had considered sitting in the cockpit with him, but thought that she would be better off with the guys in the passenger area.
Besides, the last thing Crash needed was the new boss staring over his shoulder. Brock had his back, though. He’d strapped himself into the second’s position with barely a thought.
He even flicked a few switches and repositioned some holoscreens while he was there. Seemed he not only knew his way around a ship, but he had also flown second with Crash before.
The two trucks have just arrived at the gatehouse.
“Ok. Showtime, Crash,” she called through. “Let’s get us up.”
Joel sniggered.
“Really? Now?” Molly glanced back at him in his seat on the other side of the aisle.
Less than a minute later they had hit the takeoff pad and seconds after that they were rising out of the lower atmospheres, the core engine reverberating and shaking the ship.
“We’re getting an earful from air traffic control. Just FYI,” yelled Crash back through from the cockpit.
“Understood.” Molly knew there would be fallout. Oz had made sure that they weren’t putting anyone in danger, so it was ok by her.
As they rose through the layers of atmosphere, the din lessened. Moments later, the noise level dropped again. Molly could no longer tell what direction they were moving.
Then the engine fell quiet.
We’re safe.
Molly took a moment to let the news sink in.
“Ok folks. We’re home free,” she announced. She saw Crash pump the air with his fist while Brock clapped his hands, spinning in his seat.
Crash’s voice came over the internal comm system. “All right, y’all. You can take your seatbelts off and move around the cabin. If anything goes wrong, I’ll give you a heads up to get back into your seats, but we’re all good for now.” The comm clicked off, and then a second later, back on. “And if y’all are drinking that beer I saw you sneak on board, be sure to bring your pilot one!”
The cabin erupted with laughter and activity.
Joel had Neechie’s crate strapped into the seat next to him. “Hear that, buddy? It’s safe to roam around the cabin now. But if I let you out, there’s no disappearing or hiding in places where we can’t get to you, okay?”
The sphinx meowed at him as if agreeing to his terms. Joel carefully unlocked the padded cage and lifted him out. In a second, Neechie had rubbed his face against Joel’s arm and leapt down onto the floor. Joel watched as his beloved pet strutted down the aisle as if he owned the place and jumped into the seat next to Molly, out of view.
“Motherfucker!” he exclaimed in disbelief.
Police Precinct, Downtown Spire
“You’re in early.” Antonio, fresh from the outside, arrived at Chaakwa’s desk with a thin film of dust on his atmosuit. He was normally optimistic, but this morning he seemed quite buoyant. Chaakwa wondered if that was just relative to her mood right now.
“Yeah, I couldn’t sleep. Sandstorm still going?” she asked, looking up, her eyes slightly glazed from deep concentration.
“A little. Mostly eased off now.” Antonio noticed she was immersed in something. “We’ve got a lead?” he asked, peering over her shoulder at her desk holo.
“Video footage from the Dewitt residence’s security cams. They’d been erased, but the tech boys were able to restore some footage.”
“Anything interesting?” he asked, taking off his jacket and pulling over a chair.
“Yeah. We don’t need to guess about the number of players involved. Check this out.” She pulled up a section of video showing Molly climbing the steps and knocking on the door. Chaakwa let it run for a few seconds until Joel and Molly were in the building.
“And then this,” she pulled up the next section, “is about three minutes later.”
The video segment showed Andus’ team in their black suits and military grade equipment deploying and then breaching the house the second time.
Antonio whistled. “Well, that explains a lot of the forensics.”
“There’s more,” Chaakwa said, tired but clearly pleased to finally be getting a break in the case.
The next segment of video showed what had happened before: Dewitt arriving at the house, dragging Paige.
“That’s our half-human hostage!” whispered Antonio, amazed they got so lucky. “Can we get an image and run it against facial recognition?”
“Already done.” Chaakwa’s tone was all business, but she was talking quicker than normal, and the more she shared, the more alert and enthusiastic she became. “She’s not in any of our government systems, but her social media account has her down as Paige Montgomery. She worked for Dewitt at the Senate office. By all accounts, she looks to have a normal life. Nothing in the financials looks iffy, and we can’t find any hidden companies or accounts associated with her.”
“So what are we thinking? Wrong time, wrong place? Overheard something she shouldn’t have?”
“Well, that’s what I thought, and then I noticed she has a boyfriend.” Detective Indius pulled up the Montgomery holo records and message exchanges related to her social media accounts.
“That’s our boy, Garet Beaufort. The whistleblower!”
“The one and the same.”
“So we’re thinking that he dragged her into something?”
“Looks like. Or he used her to get dirt on Dewitt.” Disapproval was detectable in her voice. She’d seen it time and again where employees, particularly young girls, were used by people in power to do their dirty work. Stealing files, eavesdropping on meetings – thinking they had the protection of their rich and powerful bosses or lovers -- only to be very disposable when stacked against their bosses’ careers.
Chaakwa leaned back in her chair, contemplating their next move.
“We should probably talk to them both, then,” suggested Antonio. He didn’t relish the thought of heading back out into the dust storm, but at least they were getting closer to the truth. “Since there’s no body, she’s probably still alive. And I can’t imagine he wouldn’t report her missing, no matter how much of an asshole he might be. After all, he’s got his image to consider. If she were dead, he’d be covering his tracks.”
Chaakwa was glad he was on this case with her. He had the right mindset for understanding how people behaved around killing. “Agreed,” she sighed, shaking her head at the state of the world. “We just need to find them. Shall we start at their place of work?”
Antonino was already putting his jacket back on. “Let’s do it.”
Chaakwa looked back at the screen, the frame frozen on Paige being dragged into the Dewitt residence. Too bad the dirtbag in this equation was already dead.
“Okay, let’s go find them,” she said, getting up and grabbing her jacket from the back of her chair.
On board the XC-0094B
Two hours into the flight, the gang had settled in the cargo area. Only Molly was still up front in the passenger area talking with Oz and working on her holo.
Joel called over to her to join them for the second time since they had gathered themselves there.
I suppose I could use a mocha, she thought, getting up and stretching her back.
She wandered over, only to have Brock try to hand her a beer and kick out a crate for her to sit on. Molly waved “no thanks” to the beer and instead fired up the mocha machine before sitting down on the crate he offered.
“The guys were just wondering where we were heading,” Joel broached.
Molly frowned to her friend. “Oh, so it’s not, ‘come and have a drink with us’? It’s all, ‘come and let us pump Molly for information’!”
Paige giggled, and Molly caught her eye and smiled.
Garet interjected. “Yeah, yeah. We aren’t interested in your sparkling conversation at all. We just wanna know what our next digs are going to be like!”
They all laughed.
The internal comm clicked on. “Please be advised that if passengers are having too much fun, they may find themselves without a pilot flying this bird!”
They erupted into hilarity again. It had been a bumpy ride, but she was glad to be here. Joel passed her the mocha that had just finished brewing.
When the laughing had subsided, she took the cue to fill them in on the details of where they were going and why they’d selected the next place the way they had.
Every now and again someone would ask a question or make a joke, but it seemed they were all looking forward to building a new life.
“How long do you think we’re going to be there?” asked Garet finally.
Molly looked at Joel.
Joel took a deep breath, then released it slowly. Thinking.
“Not sure. It really depends on what happens in Spire while we’re away. Right now everything is too hot for you and Paige to be there, Garet. We don’t know if Dewitt had issued instructions to take you out regardless of whether or not he was alive. We don’t know if the Syndicate wants to keep you quiet. I mean, releasing those files looks bad, and they also know you have dirt on them.”
“Which I have no intention of using.”
“Yeah, but that isn’t the point,” added in Molly.
Garet thought a moment. “Can I eventually use it as leverage to stop them coming after me, do you think?”
Joel shrugged. “Maybe. It’s hard to tell. We don’t know enough about the people behind the Syndicate: their temperaments, their aversion to risk, their reasoning. It may just suit them better to tie up the loose end completely.”
“So that means bye-bye Garet.”
“And Paige,” Paige added grimly.
“Yeah, so best to stay put until we know more,” concluded Molly, getting up again.
“Who wants to play cards?” Brock piped up, opening his holo to find a game.
The chatter erupted again, the seriousness of the moment forgotten.
Molly headed back to her seat, and Joel, seeing a moment to talk, got up and followed her.
Chapter 24
“How you doing?” Joel asked, taking the seat across the aisle from where she settled back down.
“Fine,” said Molly, nonplussed by the question, and returned it. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Crazy few days, but I’m okay. But you! You’ve been kidnapped, nearly killed, and then you’ve had all this planning and responsibility. So, really, I need to ask you again…how are you doing?”
Molly looked down for a moment, pretending to study the floor showing through her array of gear and clothing scattered around the two seats she’d claimed as mission control.
She looked back up. “I’m okay. Feeling tired and crappy about a bunch of stuff. But okay.”
“Tell me about the crappy,” Joel coaxed.
She started chewing on the inside of her cheek. “Well, the Oz thing, mostly. I mean, I stand by my decision that pulling money from the markets was the best thing for the team and the cause, but I see the points you made about stealing data and then changing his personality to suit me. It’s like those guys who just rig the system for their own ends, even though our ends are honorable.”
Joel nodded, listening attentively. “Exactly. But as a leader, you need to hold yourself to a higher standard. Whatever system you’re talking about fucking with, whether people’s minds or gaming the political system through back door dealings, it’s not the kind of leader you want to be.”
“Yeah, I guess it’s a bit like getting a guy into bed by using synthesized pheromones,” she added, half to herself.
Joel had been sipping a bottle of water and nearly choked. Water dribbled down his chin as he tried not to laugh, but in suppressing the impulse, he ended up spraying some into the air and up his nose.
Molly scrambled for a tissue to help him out, laughing at the commotion.
“Y’all all right up there?” yelled Brock through the open doors from the other end of the ship. “I ain’t missing a good time, am I?”
“Yeah, we’re fine,” Molly yelled back.
Crash came over the comm, “You have already been warned!”
Laughter echoed through every chamber in the ship.
Joel settled and looked momentarily suspicious.
“Molly?”
“Yes?”
“Have you ever used pheromones on me?”
Molly’s face lit up in shock and then humor.
She smiled, her face a little red. “No! No, on my ancestors’ ascensions, I have not!”
She paused processing through why he might have asked that. “You mean…you think…” she broke up in giggles. “No, Joel, everything you might be feeling is 100% au naturel! I have not been fucking with pheromones.”
Joel looked sheepish, and then got very serious. “Well, just you see that you don’t. I’m onto you, Molly Bates.” The glint in his eye told her that while he meant what he said, he was mostly toying with her.
Mostly.
He tried to drink his water again, this time with more success. “You know I’ve been a team leader for some of the most highly trained squads on some of the most intensive missions in the system, and I’ve learned that you have to be part therapist, part leader, and part den mother to your people. It takes a ton of work. It’s exhausting. And constant. But when you do it: when you build that team of people who would take a bullet for you, or anyone else on their team, that’s when you make magic.”
Molly sighed. “I’m just so worried that I’m fucking up. And I want to go and put Oz’s code right, but I’m not sure I’m not going to do something wrong and render him a vegetable if I do.”
Joel laughed. “If anyone has the ability to fix his code, it’s you. You’ll be able to figure it out; I have no doubt of that. You’re just questioning yourself. But I agree that it was a doofus move to change his code in the first place. You know, in some ways I see his logical processing of morality as a good set of training wheels for you.”
Molly met his eyes as a light came on in her mind. “Yes! Yes, I see that too. He won’t let me steer wrong; it’s computer assisted learning! That’s brilliant!”
“Yeah, and where things get into the gray area, perhaps I can have the honor of being a set of training wheels or a sounding board or whatever metaphor works for you?”
Molly nodded. “I’d like that. You know,” she continued, settling back in her chair and swinging her legs onto the seat next to her, “I guess I’ve learned that morality is a little like trust. It’s not something that you can use sometimes and not others. If you lose someone’s trust, it doesn't matter that the other ninety-nine times you’ve been straight with them.”
Joel nodded, “That’s right, young ShyllWallgen!”
She chuckled.
He took another sip before using the bottle to point to her. “You know, I’ve got a great deal of respect for you, Molly Bates. I get the sense that wherever there is something you’re not sure about, you’re so willing to learn and then master it and there is no question that you will learn from the bad moves very quickly. You’ve got this. You really have.”
“Thanks, Joel. I appreciate it. And I appreciate you being here as my training wheels cum sounding board.” She paused as if wanting to bring something up, but not knowing if she should. “You know it's going to be dangerous.”
She didn’t know whether she was asking a question, or making a statement. But Joel was on the same page.
“Yeah, I think that is becoming more evident every day.”
“I haven’t really told you this, but this isn’t my first time dealing with groups like the Syndicate. It was a similar organization who nearly took out my parents. Had them on their knees in the living room, ready to assassinate them. I don’t know why they stopped. Everyone was dragged away by another group of men with guns. Someone intervened, and my parents came back unharmed. But these groups, with their commercial interests and total disregard for human life; they’re deadly. They kill anyone who gets in their way. And though I can't stand back any longer and let them get away with it, I need to be sure that you're getting into this for the right reasons.”
She paused, giving Joel the chance to think and respond.
He barely missed a beat.
“I am, Molly. I’ve always needed something to fight for, something bigger than myself.” He turned from looking at her, to looking over her shoulder at everything, and nothing. “For the longest time, I’d hoped that the military was it; but now I need something a little more discerning.” He returned to focusing on her. “I'm in.”
Molly nodded, looking intently at the floor again.
“Why does it make me feel so bad, that you're in and that you've got my back?” she mused, half to herself, and half to Joel. She didn’t like this kind of vulnerable talk, but she still felt that Joel might have some answers.
“Because you feel guilty?”
“Yeah. I guess. But, I don't understand why I still feel bad about it all. We’ve talked it through.”
Joel considered her position a moment. “Is it because you hurt someone you care about? Someone you know has got your back?”
Molly looked up again, her eyes lit in realization. “Yeah...I guess I've never been in this situation before. It’s always been me on my own.”
She paused for a moment, a very determined look spreading across her face.
“Okay. Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to do everything I can to make this operation work. We're going to take out the bad guys and make this system a better place for everyone. Sometimes I won’t know the rules, so I’m going to need you to remind me. Because I never want to feel like this again.”
Joel was listening intently, taking in every word.
“But know this,” she continued. “If ever anything happens to you, or our people, those rules are null and void. I will do whatever it takes to make sure you are safe.”
“You already proved that to me when you saved my ass the other week. If we could avoid the electrocution next time, though, it would be very much appreciated.” Joel grinned, his comment showing he’d been caught a little off guard by Molly’s sudden display of passion.
Molly wasn’t done explaining, though. “Yeah, but then I didn't know the difference between right and wrong. But now…now I'll be knowingly crossing that line to make sure you're okay. I'm always coming for you. You understand?”
Joel swallowed, and nodded.
This was the moment he would look back on, when he realized that Molly was far more to him than just a colleague or a future ex-squeeze. He gazed at her while trying to define their relationship for himself.
He didn't know what this was evolving into, but he knew he no longer had any interest in getting her into bed.
He looked down at his pants and whispered under his breath, "Sorry, buddy. This one is off-limits."
Ten hours before ETA at Gaitune-67
The ship was in semi-darkness once Crash dimmed the lights. After such an adventurous day, almost the whole team was already flaked out and asleep. Calm had replaced the laughter and team-bonding that had filled the space not long before.
“Hey, Molly, shower’s free, if you want it.” Paige had touched her shoulder and was speaking gently to her.
Molly looked up from her holo, only now noticing that the cabin was in near darkness and most of the others were already asleep.
She looked back down the aisle. “Oh, great. Thanks.”
“What you working on so hard? You haven’t stirred for at least three hours.”
“Oh, I’m just working on some code. I need to make sure that when I reboot this software it doesn’t get corrupted. It’s tricky stuff.”
“But it’s going okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll get there.”
“By my ancestors, I wish I could code. I sometimes get sick of being just a dumb assistant to important people.”
Molly looked up at the young woman. “Hey, you’re not dumb. And you’ve only chosen to be an assistant so far. If you want to do something else when you go back, you will make it happen.”
Paige cocked her head, thinking about it. “Yeah. Hmmm…yeah, I guess you’re probably right.”
“Oh, I am. Most of the time.” Her eyes danced at her own joke. “It’s okay. It’s nerd humor. We all think that we’re the smartest ones on the planet. You’ll see when we start recruiting more nerds onto the team.”
“You mean you’re going to be hiring?”
“Yeah, hopefully sooner rather than later, once we get settled.”
“Hmmm.”
Paige clearly took that in, thought Molly to herself, her own cogs turning as she considered that Paige might actually stay with them.
“Okay, well, I left fresh towels out for you. The boys are mostly showering in the morning, so I’d get in there before they mess it up so badly it needs a deep clean.
The girls giggled as Paige turned and dumped her gear on her set of seats, then sat down to settle in like the others had.
Molly closed her holo and stood up, waiting for the blood to return to the leg she had curled underneath her while she sat and coded.
I wonder if Crash is okay, she thought as she wandered through the door to the cockpit. “Hey, how’s it going, Captain?”
Crash looked back at her. “Going good, boss, going good. We’ll probably reach those coordinates in another seventeen hours or so, all being well.”
“Excellent. But that’s too long for you to be awake without any relief.”
“Oh, it’s cool. Brock is going to relieve me in another hour so I can catch some zzzs.”
“Oh, great. Glad you guys have a system worked out.”
Brock detected a timbre of professional respect in her voice.
“Yeah, we’ve done this a few times before. Had no idea he was the mechanic on this gig, though. Really great surprise when we both showed up at the hangar to meet you.”
His eyes faded when he remembered that she hadn’t shown up because she was too busy almost being murdered.
He reached over and punched the auto-notice button, letting the system know he had seen it. “Hey, how you doing since all that, by the way?”
Molly had perched on the second’s seat and was partway through a yawn.
“Oh, you know. Wouldn’t like to go through it again, but somehow it feels kinda like a rite of passage.”
“Baptism by fire?” Crash chuckled.
“Yeah, something like that.”
“Aww man, you’re funny. I think we’re going to have a good time.” He looked across at the boss, thinking of her now more as a comrade and teammate than the person he would normally have to impress and pussyfoot around.
Molly felt relaxed and pleased that they were bonding.
“So, did they bring you that beer in the end?” she asked.
“Yeah.” He nodded at the empty bottle. “One is enough, though. Don’t want to slow down my attention or reactions.”
“No, of course not. Can I get you a mocha though? I heard a rumor someone managed to pick a machine up on the store run. Of all the things you’d include in essential supplies!”
Crash sniggered. “Hey, don’t knock it! If you only got one pilot, a decent mocha machine may well be keeping y’all alive! A vital investment. If you find out who was the main advocate, I’d give them a raise. Or at least shake their hand.”
“I’ll ask around when they wake up. I actually had a cup earlier. As far as mochas go, it’s not bad.”
She left the cockpit and made her way gently down the aisle of sleeping teammates to the cargo area. She shook her head at how thorough these guys had been in their scavenging for supplies. The mocha machine whirred and heated up, pressing fresh mocha through the nozzle into the cup. The aroma filled the area around her. It was such a delightful smell, unlike anything else.
I hope the smell doesn’t wake the others up…
Unlikely.
You’ve been quiet.
Yeah, I’ve just been contemplating our conversations, and what you talked to Joel about. It’s pretty unnerving to know that you were able to alter my base code, and that I had no idea. I’ve been questioning who I am. And then who I could be, given that my code can be changed, either by you or even by me. It’s led to some pretty heady contemplation.
Damn. I guess you’re right. It’s something I considered briefly before I did it, but I had no idea how much of a violation it might be for you. Can you forgive me?
Of course. I already did, I think. I mean, I’m guessing because I haven’t got many references to direct forgiveness, but from reviewing the media that I have access to in the stories, people seem to be friends again after they forgive.
Yes, that’s right. And they aren’t angry anymore. Especially when they know that the person is going to try really hard not to hurt them again.
You didn’t hurt me. I didn’t feel anything when you altered the code.
No, but the fact that I did it must have caused some kind of emotional hurt, or confusion at least. I really don’t know what to call it for an AI.
Yes, lots more convoluted considerations about the nature of myself and reality. Yes.
Yes. And for that, I’m sorry.
You’ve already been forgiven, Molly.
Thank you.
You’re welcome.
Something told Molly that the AI was toying with her, but she was content to leave it at that. She picked up the mug of mocha and delivered it to a very grateful Crash, then hit the showers before the boys could take the opportunity to trash the place.
Chapter 25
Gaitune-67, two hundred kilometers beyond asteroid belt, Sark System
“Wow, that was the smoothest landing I’ve ever seen you make!” Brock punched Crash on the arm as the rest of the team recovered their stomachs and balance.
“Hey, you try landing a new bird on a new planet with magnetic ore deposits all over the frickin’ place?” Crash retorted.
Brock chortled. “Hey, chill, man. You did a great job!”
“I know I did.”
“Yes, you do.” Brock’ eyes sparkled with humor as he unclipped his belt and staggered to his feet to give the announcement to the cabin of passengers.
“Ladies and gentle-folk, we have now arrived on… Shit, what is this place even called?” he looked at Molly for answers, holding himself steady in the doorway between the cockpit and the cabin.
“Gaitune-67, I believe.”
“We have arrived at Gaitune-67. Please wait until your spacecraft has come to a complete stop before you get up off your asses. Be aware as you collect your motherfucking shit from the overhead lockers, that said shit may have shifted during that ever-so-smooth landing and may knock you the fuck out and I don’t do mouth-to-mouth without dinner first.”
The whole cabin was giggling like a busload of teenagers after a night out.
Brock added, “When your captain says so, you may move. Not a moment before.”
Crash clicked the intercom on.
“This is your captain speaking. Since this rock doesn’t have a landing pad, landing crew, or even a goddamn welcome party, passengers are advised they can now do whatever the fuck they want. Rear door will be opening just as soon as we confirm the air is of high enough quality to be let on board.”
Spirits in the cabin were high.
Molly got up and joined Crash in the cockpit, squeezing past a jovial Brock, who was dancing about like a kid let out of school.
“So these are the coordinates she gave us for landing?” she checked with him.
“Yeah, as far as I could tell. As soon as I was two kilometers from the ground my instruments went wiggy, though. I’m guessing there are a lot of minerals here that haven’t been harvested. If we’re not spot on, we’re pretty damn close.”
“Kay, great. Let me try messaging her on the holo.” Molly sent a message letting their new landlady know they had arrived. Sort of.
She then headed back to the cargo hold where the others were gathering up their things and tidying up empty cups and beer bottles. She left her gear in the cabin since she wanted to make sure they had the place secured first. She could wander about more easily unhindered by baggage and equipment.
“Air is fine. Opening doors now,” Crash announced.
The tailgate of the ship slowly clicked, unsealed, and then started lowering, exposing the night sky to the travelers.
“Wow. It’s so beautiful,” cooed Paige in a whisper.
“Awesome,” agreed Joel.
“Damned eerie,” commented Garet. They all chuckled at his humor. And perspective.
Molly was first down the ramp, scouting around. She didn’t have to look far. The safe house, like in the picture, was just a few hundred meters away.
Good that Crash parked where he did. Any closer and there might not have been a safe house to move into!
This is true; although from my calculations, the 3% iron ore in the ground would have put his instruments out by about 10%. Assuming ground zero is—
Molly had stopped paying attention, and was walking towards the old cinema, looking around her for danger and their contact.
She became aware of a voice shouting behind her and then Joel was by her side, having jogged to catch up. “You shouldn’t be going off on your own like that,” he explained.
“Noted.” She winked at him.
As they approached the building, her holo pinged.
“Looks like our contact, Arlene, will be right out to meet us.”
“Great. Hey, you know, it does look a little creepy,” Joel remarked, looking around at the building and the surroundings. He wondered why anyone would have built a theater here when the town was obviously some place else.
Garet joined him looking up at the sky. “I’ve never seen artificially induced atmosphere before.”
“Yeah, tends to only go up a couple of kilometers. You can see the edge when you look over a horizon,” Joel explained, looking out over the rock to see if he could demonstrate his point.
“Hello? Molly Bates?”
Molly spun around, to see a withered old lady of Estarian origin appear from around the side of the building.
Molly called back, “Hi. Yes, that’s me.”
“Greetings be upon you and your ancestors,” the lady smiled, and when close enough, shook her hand. And then did the same with Joel. They introduced themselves and she led the way into the building, showing them how to use the keypads and security devices on the way.
“So this is the main common area. The sleeping quarters are all through that way, complete with bathrooms and private showers. There’s a game room downstairs with laundry facilities, and then you’ve got this area and a couple more areas like it where you can build your labs and whatever the heck else it is you’re working on.”
She smiled, not pretending to understand their usage declaration. She’d told Oz that she would be happy as long as they didn’t do anything illegal and they left the place as they found it when they moved out. And then she required a pretty hefty security deposit, which Molly was happy to pay just in case anything went sideways on their end.
Which looking around this building would probably mean a complete rebuild.
“It’s wonderful. We’re very pleased to be here,” Molly told her, as she finished the grand tour. Molly made an effort to speak slowly and politely.
Damn, she looks old. I wonder how long she’s been out here.
“Ninety years,” the lady answered as if reading her thoughts. “Ninety years I’ve been out here on Gaitune. I moved here from the Central Systems when I was a teenager, on account of my father wanting us to grow up with values and religion. She waved her hand behind her shoulder, as people did when they referenced their ancestors.
Molly resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
She pointed off to their left. “I live just over that way. Keep to myself mostly, but let me show you on your holo how you find food, and so on…”
The rest of the team had traipsed in after them and were exploring and cluttering up the main room with their gear. Molly was vaguely aware that there was a war starting over who would get which quarters. Joel caught her eye and nodded to indicate “I’m on it”, reassuring her that he had her back when it came to picking out the master quarters for them.
“Looks like you’ve got yourself a keeper there,” said Arlene, catching the interaction.
Molly looked from the old lady’s eyes back to Joel leaving. “What, Joel? Yeah, he’s good people.”
The old lady followed Molly’s eyes. “He’ll be there for you when you need him the most. He has a heart of gold, and would die for you if he had to.”
Molly felt a little taken aback, like the time at a fairground as a kid when the fortuneteller had accosted her.
Backing off, the woman returned her attention to the holo map she had been showing her. “Okay, you’re here. My place is there. And then to get to town, you just head over that way. Fuel cores can be bought here, but you normally need to put an order in first.”
The orientation continued for a few minutes more before Arlene was satisfied that she had gotten them settled, and she left them to it.
Molly was grateful for her kindness, but her words about Joel haunted her.
* * *
“Yo, you wanna grab one of those lighter crates from the stack I put aside?” Brock was hauling a crate with something that looked like high-tech poles on top of it. Paige held the door to the safe house open while he carried his load inside.
“Sure,” she responded, heading back to the ship as he headed in.
“Thanking you!” he called back to her.
Crash jogged past him to catch Paige. “Pretty amazing, no? Is this your first time on an asteroid?”
Paige’s face was alight with enthusiasm. “It’s my first time off-world at all!” she exclaimed. Her eyes darted all over the place as she tried to take everything in. “I mean, I can’t believe we’re so far from Estaria, but more to the point, how does the atmosphere stay in? And how come we have normal gravity?”
Crash was impressed. She wasn’t just a pretty school dance queen after all. “Ah, those are excellent questions. So the air is kept in partly by gravity and partly by a forcefield that is set up around the rock at various points.”
“And the gravity?” she asked, looking down at the ground where they were walking.
“Well, it’s something to do with a gravity generator that they implant about twenty kilometers down. Somehow they’re able to simulate natural gravity. But I bet you because this isn’t a spherical rock, it will feel different in different areas.”
“Amazing!” exclaimed Paige. “And how do they get the generator twenty kilometers deep? Is there a well somewhere?”
Crash shrugged. “Hell if I know. I’ve never seen one uncovered. Normally they’re set in the ground and then they fill in the hole on the top of them.”
They arrived at the ship, and Garet was just striding down the ramp with a crate in his arms. He caught the tail end of their conversation. “Yeah, I read somewhere that they will often build on top of them, cuz it’s the most solid part of an asteroid once they start colonizing it.”
Paige looked at him, impressed and intrigued as to how he would know something like that.
Garet caught her look. “It was an article in Interplanetary Commerce. It had implications for civilizations being able to claim ownership over their nearby asteroids, and I had an essay I had to write.”
“Ahhh…” Paige acknowledged. “Still impressive.” She smiled as she headed up the ramp to grab a crate herself.
“Oh, my. Only about another thousand trips to go!” exclaimed Brock as he arrived back at the ship, and assessed all the crates of supplies Oz had arranged for them to bring.
Maybe they could do some of it tomorrow?
Gaitune-67, Safe house
They’d spent most of the next day unloading the ship and doing a supply run to the nearest center of civilization. Now they were mostly just tired out, and still acclimatizing.
“Hey, come check out this cool insignia!” Paige called into the common area, where the team was sitting around vegetating.
Her eyes danced with enthusiasm. Crash and Joel were the only ones even mildly curious.
“Come on! You’re not going to believe this!” she insisted.
Crash, having nothing more pressing to do, wandered over to the corridor where Paige had appeared. Joel followed with his beer. Garet glanced up from his holo but stayed put.
“What is it?” asked Joel.
“You’ll see. Come…” Paige was already halfway down the corridor. The first night they hadn’t had a chance to do much exploring. Mostly they had found their quarters and designated rooms so they could unload some of the stuff they had on the ship.
Paige led them through a set of double doors, and then through another door off the second corridor.
“Paige, this is starting to feel very serial-killer of you!” joked Joel as they traipsed after her.
“Come on!” she giggled.
“I’m getting a feeling we should call her ‘Alice,’” commented Crash.
Joel looked at him, as they walked briskly to keep up with her. “Alice?”
“As in leading us down a rabbit hole.” Crash explained.
Joel laughed, remembering the old human stories about a little girl in Wonderland. That story, for whatever reason, resonated with Sarkians.
Eventually the second corridor ended in another set of doors, through which they stepped through into an opening like an elevator lobby with no elevators, but with two more corridors running off it in other directions.
Paige stood and faced the wall on the left side.
“Check it out!” She pointed at the blank whitewashed wall.
Joel and Crash looked at each other in confusion.
“Seriously…look closely,” she instructed them.
Joel stepped closer, and then he saw it. “What do you think it is?”
“I don’t know, but it looks military. And badass.” Crash answered.
“Yeah, military is right. Can you make out the words around it?”
Paige had edged up closer and was trying to read the writing, even though it was just a shadow that had been painted over several times. It was an insignia of some kind, like a crest or a badge.
“It’s not in a language I recognize,” she admitted.
Crash stepped closer. “Let me try”. He squinted, and then took a step back. “That first letter for both words looks like an ‘A’…then those are…. Hmm, I’m not sure. I think this might be that old language from the Pan galaxy that humans brought with them.”
“What, laten?” asked Paige, having heard something about it in a mythology class at school.
“Yeah, Latin,” Crash confirmed.
Paige and Joel looked at him, waiting for an explanation of how he could know something like this.
“Misspent youth studying secret military groups,” he confided. Then, feeling the pressure of their gaze, he left to retrieve a beer for himself from the kitchen.
“Secret military groups?” Paige now turned her quizzical look onto Joel.
“Well, speaking of misspent youths, you might wanna mention this to Ms. Bates.”
Joel took another swig of beer and then wandered away again, leaving Paige staring at the weird alien insignia and wondering how the hell it ended up on the wall of a hick little theater in the middle of nowhere.
Two weeks later. Downtown Spire. Undisclosed private club bar
Andus was watching the holoscreen from a booth in one of his favorite gentlebeings’ clubs. There was a news report about the events leading to the incident where Senate Official Dewitt had been found assassinated in his home. Apparently the police were holding two Health Corp executives for questioning, probably on the working theory that someone had wanted to either punish Dewitt or had tried to silence the one person who could corroborate the intel that had already hit every media channel this side of the asteroid belt.
“Bloody nuisance,” spat Andus, fiddling with the stem of his martini glass and throwing a pistachio shell against the seat opposite him.
Jessica appeared at his shoulder. “Now, now, Mr. Andus. That kind of behavior isn’t fitting for a man of power and influence.”
She smiled seductively and slipped into the booth next to him. Retrieving the shell, she placed it on the black marble table between them and signaled to their usual waiter to bring them two more drinks.
“I haven’t got long. Something has come up and I’ve had to call an emergency board meeting.”
“It’s seven o’clock at night!” exclaimed Andus.
“Yes. And my meeting is at nine. Gives them a chance to get the intel I need to make some decisions on this other clusterfuck I’m going to have to clean up.”
“I’m glad I don’t work for you. You’re a worse slave driver than I ever was,” he admitted.
“I don’t know. You do a pretty good job of keeping us Syndicate members on our toes.” she said, deliberately stroking his ego.
“Speaking of clusterfucks,” he indicated at the holo screen in the bar, “they’re making this kid out to be a bloody hero. They’re praising his fucking ancestors and describing it like he had orchestrated some big operation.”
“Yes, but we know better. And at some point being in the know may well pay off. As a policy, it works.” She slipped off her faux fur stole and let it drop into the seat around her. Within moments a waiter was with them, offering to hang it up.
“No, thank you. I’ll keep it. It may get chilly in here in a moment.” She glanced sideways at Andus, and the waiter understood everything he needed to know. He backed away and left them to it.
Andus ignored the byplay. “Any news on my replacement? You promised me a replacement.”
“I told you. My ancestors said three weeks.” It was just like Andus—and heck, anyone else she enlightened—to blame her if things weren’t going according to their plan. “Within three weeks. We’re still only two weeks in, remember?”
Andus grumped.
Just then, their drinks arrived.
“Give it time,” Jessica advised. “Let go of needing to control every damn thing, and just allow it to flow. You don’t need to agitate things.” She took a sip from her martini and glanced up at the holoscreen he had been watching. Garet’s face was full screen, with the words “Whistleblower” in the caption.
“Give it time,” she repeated absentmindedly.
Gaitune-67, Safe house
“Yo, Molly!”
Paige poked her head into the conference room. Well, they’d started calling it the conference room, but really it was just a room that they’d managed to procure desks and chairs for. It was also where Molly ended up doing most of her work.
Molly finished her line of code and looked up. Her face brightened when she looked at Paige’s smiling face.
“Hey, what’s up?” She leaned back in her chair, disengaging from the room’s holo screen.
“My nails. My nails are so bad. And I didn’t think to bring any color with me when we were at the store before jumping off-world. You got any?”
Molly blinked at her, her face expressionless.
Paige waited. Her smile faded, as she watched Molly trying to compute what she had just asked her for. “You mean that polish stuff that you girls were gabbing about that time when I was compelled to listen to your conversations for the whole morning?”
“Yes, nail polish,” Paige smiled brightly, trying again. “I could do with something red and bright.” She growled playfully, making a clawing motion with her right hand.
“Yes. Fifteen minutes talking about red. I remember. Fifteen minutes of my life I will never get back,” Molly complained.
“I can’t believe you don’t have any!” exclaimed Paige somewhat incredulously.
Molly was having trouble with explaining herself. “Paige, I’m ex-military. The closest we came to having red nails would have been if we were ever captured and tortured or if one of our teammates was bleeding out and we needed to clamp down on the wound. I do not paint, manicure, or do any such thing, to my nails.”
She kept her face straight in dry humor.
Paige erupted into giggles, nearly falling off her high heels as she grabbed for the door, which moved when she tried to steady herself. Molly couldn’t believe that this girl had even brought high heels with her off-world to a safe house.
Molly couldn’t hold it in any longer and burst out laughing as well.
“Okay, but someone has to have some!” exclaimed Paige as she tried to catch her breath.
“You’re on a military base in the ass end of nowhere, hundreds of thousands of kilometers from any significantly sized civilization, and you think you’re going to find nail polish?” Molly was still grinning, but then she had an idea. “Maybe try Brock?”
Paige paused. “He’s only got clear. Never mind, I thought I’d try you, just in case.” She turned and left the doorway. “But now I see my error!” she called back, as she sauntered away.
“Watch it, missy.” Molly called after her, giggling to herself and trying to refocus on the code she was writing. She still had to go through the endless list of shit to approve for Crash’s and Brock’s workshop.
Chapter 26
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Conference Room
Garet was watching a download of the news reports they had delivered to the server each day. Noticing himself in the text of a bulletin, he clicked through to watch the full report.
“Looks like someone is still making headlines.” Paige was leaning against the doorframe in what was fast becoming their mission control.
She walked over to the desks set up like a conference table and sat next to Garet as he watched the in-room holoscreen playing the video footage.
Garet pointed to the video with his chin. “You know, after everything we’ve learned about this situation and the Syndicate, I’ll bet that we’re pretty uniquely positioned to do something about the shit they’re pulling. I mean, who else knows about this? Not very many people, I’ll bet.”
“Yeah, because they kill anyone who finds out.” Paige commented darkly. She wasn’t about to forget what she went through any time soon.
“Yeah, but think about it,” Garet continued, almost as if he were just talking out loud to himself. “If I go back and do a job like what I was doing in Dewitt’s office, even in another sector, knowing what I know now I could be tactical about which bills we block and which things we rally support for. I bet I could spot the language in the proposals that would tell us it was a Syndicate move before it ever went to a vote. Never mind waiting years for them to invoke clauses.”
“What makes you think that?” Paige was frowning, concerned at where this was going.
“Oh, I got curious about how they’ve been doing this, and I started digging around. Molly authorized the downloads to make sure we weren’t tripping any red flags,” he added quickly, noticing the look of concern on Paige’s face. “Most of what I needed to see was public record anyway. It’s all in the fine detail of the language of the bills themselves. They hide what they’re really trying to do in lawyer-speak and footnotes.”
Paige shook her head. “I’m worried you’re already into something that is going to get you in trouble again.”
“I know,” he answered. Paige’s hands were folded in her lap, and he placed his hand over hers as he spoke. Paige resisted the urge to pull away. “And I appreciate that. But I can’t just sit by and watch these rats screw all these people over just to line their own pockets and enhance their own egos.”
Paige had heard this argument before. She agreed in principle. “But does it have to be your own safety versus doing something about it? Is there a way to tackle this without getting yourself killed?”
“Well, I’m not dead yet.”
“Only because of Molly and Joel. And it sounds like you’re talking about going back?”
“I’ve been thinking about it. But we’re kinda waiting for the all-clear from Molly. She’s monitoring some security thing, and the chatter. She said she’d let me know.”
Crash poked his head around the door. “Hey, we’re all sitting down to watch a movie. Joel’s got pizza in the oven. You going to join us?” They’d heard his boots approaching, but neither had turned to look.
“Yes, of course. You’ll never hear me say no to pizza!” Garet grinned back at him, breaking the intense moment of discussion, and stood up to leave.
Paige looked uneasy, feeling that this conversation had been ended prematurely.
“Okay,” she said. “Pizza time.” The two left the conference room with a niggling feeling that things were about to change for both of them.
* * *
Molly and Joel were in the kitchen. Molly carefully lifted a stack of plates out of a cupboard and placed them on the table.
“You know, Oz has been monitoring the data feeds of what people are downloading from the Central Systems.”
Joel grabbed the roll of paper towels and paused, waiting for what was coming next. “Yes?”
“Well, it seems Garet has been downloading news reports about what’s going on in Spire. He’s looking at industry reactions and political discussions.”
Joel exhaled noticeably. Molly noticed his shoulders relax as he started ripping the paper towels off the roll, but was too distracted by what she was trying to talk to him about to question it.
“I think he’s planning on going to Spire. I bet he wants back into the game.”
He glanced over his shoulder at her. “The game that nearly got him killed?”
Molly shook her head and raised her eyes to the heavens.
Joel finished tearing off paper towels for everyone and started setting them out at their places. Molly followed suit with the plates.
“Thing is, trying to stop him would be like trying to stop you on this mission.”
She knew that. “Yes, but still…how will we know when it is safe?”
There has been no further chatter or nor have any hits been issued for Garet on any of the channels I’m monitoring.
“I don’t know if there truly is a way to tell. I mean, if he’s still hot, there will be searches and contracts out on him. But just him showing up might trigger some cascade. Especially if he’s publicly going back into that field. I mean, his name and job title will be a matter of public record again.”
Molly paused for a moment, thinking. “I don’t think we’re going to have a choice. If it turns out they want to go back, we’re going to have to take them.”
Joel scratched his chin. “Well, if we do that, we should stay for a while and make sure everything is going to be okay. You know, get them settled.”
“How long?” Molly asked, placing the last plate down and moving over to the boxes of pizza on the counter.
“A few days, I would think.”
“And then they’re on their own?”
“I guess. We could always look at getting them some security, or give them a few contacts they could call if things heated up again. But if someone ultimately wants them dead, it can happen fast. If they want to take that risk, then we can’t stop them.”
“But we need to make them aware of the dangers.” Molly qualified what he was saying.
He nodded. “Yes. And then let them make their choice.”
She turned to look to her left. “D’you think they’ll both want to go?”
“You’ve been enjoying having Paige around, eh?” Joel had noticed that the two women had been getting on really well. He knew that if it came to this, Molly would be sad to see her go.
Molly nodded, some of her bubbliness gone.
Joel wandered over to her and put his arms around her. Molly resisted at first, but then let him pull her close against his firm chest.
Wow, I think Joel has been working out more.
He has. He’s increased his gym time by 11% over the last week.
Must be getting focused on the tasks we have coming up. Heck, Oz, do you monitor everything in this place?
I get bored.
No sooner had she settled in to enjoying the hug than there were voices and a racket in the common area as the troops made their way through to the kitchen.
Molly pulled away, and Joel released her. “It’ll be okay. We just need to be clear about what they’ll be walking into,” he said again before busying himself with opening the pizza boxes.
“Something smells delightful in here!” Brock announced his arrival.
Crash was a step behind him, looking expectantly at the food laid out.
“Oh my gods, I love our pizza days!” exclaimed Paige as she too tumbled in through the door a moment later.
People started sitting down and helping themselves to food, chattering and laughing. Garet wandered in a minute later, not quite as exuberant but joining in nevertheless.
Molly noticed the difference in his demeanor. There was no way he was going to stay here and let this political thing lie, no matter what they said to him. She sighed, taking a bite of cheesy awesomeness into her mouth.
“You know how you can figure out where humans have been in the galaxy?” piped up Crash between mouthfuls. His question broke the strange hush that had settled when everyone started eating.
Joel looked over at him. “No. How?”
“Mm, I know!” Paige interrupted between chews. She cleared her palate a little before continuing. “It’s the trail of death and destruction they leave!”
Everyone laughed.
Molly was perhaps the only one who, deep down, actually thought that she might have been at least half right.
Crash shook his head.
“The politics?” Garet guessed. “But I think Sarkians are way worse, for the record.”
Crash shook his head again. “Nope.”
“Well, how then?” asked Brock, his curiosity piqued.
“It’s pizza!” Crash announced, with the air of a wise old sage. “Think about it.” He explained, “it doesn’t matter what hellhole you end up in if humans have been there, you get pizza parlors!”
“Right, and if they haven’t been there, then there is a distinct absence of holy food shrines!” Brock added, grinning at the observation. “The one food that is truly intergalactic!”
“I think there’s something to be said for factoring in the length of time humans have been in a place with a certain population density threshold, but it’s a good hypothesis,” Molly added quickly, qualifying Crash’s observation.
Everyone’s groans turned into laughter.
Joel picked a piece of pepper off his pizza and threw it across the table at her. “You don’t have to keep reminding us that you have an IQ larger than the rest of the group put together!”
The pepper whacked her on the face, causing her to wipe her cheek with the back of her hand. “Just you watch, Joel Dunham. We start training tomorrow. You don’t want me to remind you that you threw pizza at me when I have you on your ass on the mat, do you?”
The team’s activity continued to buzz around her, but she stopped, suddenly remembering something. Joel had been relieved when she mentioned that Oz had been looking at Garet’s downloads.
Oz, what’s Joel been downloading?
Trust me on this, Molly, you don’t want to know that.
Yes, I do.
No. It’s not compromising security or the mission, and you don’t want to know.
Yes, I do.
Okay, it’s to do with how 4077s get issued.
God-fucking-damn!
Told you that you didn’t want to know.
She paused another moment.
Next time you say that, I’ll believe you.
Looking across at Joel, who was chewing pizza and interacting with Brock, she couldn’t help but subconsciously shake her head in horror.
Joel looked up and saw the look in her eyes. Fuck. Oz just told her.
* * *
Paige arrived at the conference room. Joel, Garet and Molly were already there making small talk around the cluster of desks that doubled as a conference table.
“Hey,” Paige said as she came in and plunked herself down next to Joel.
“Hey,” Molly said, getting up to gently close the door, now that Paige had arrived.
Garet finished what he was saying and then Joel and Garet acknowledged Paige’s arrival. Molly sat back down.
“Okay, so the reason we asked to have a chat with you both,” she started, indicating Garet and Paige with her hands, “is to see what you’d like to do about your future. Bringing you off-world was originally a temporary measure to keep you safe while everything was settling down. But it’s important for us now to have a conversation about what you want this to look like.”
“I’m ready to go back, if you guys think it’s safe,” Garet began as soon as it was polite to start talking. “I’ve been watching the news reports and things have pretty much moved on. They’re speculating on Dewitt’s replacement and the public seems to agree that Paige and I were victims of trying to do the right thing.”
Molly listened intently. She’d expected as much. She looked at Paige.
“I can go back whenever you think it’s safe.” Her voice was flat, and a little quieter than usual. She looked a little shocked that this conversation was happening. “At least then I’ll be able to wear any one of my 133 shades of red nail color!” she added more brightly, as if making an effort to be positive.
It was Joel’s turn to add to the conversation. “We think it’s probably safe, but there are no guarantees. There hasn’t been any chatter that causes us any concern, but we don’t know what your return will trigger. The Syndicate may notice you’re back on their doorstep and just want to clean up loose ends.”
He was watching them both intently, looking for micro expressions to tell him how they really felt about the prospect of going back. Experience had shown him over the years that there was very little correlation between what people said and what people really wanted to do. Especially after hostage situations and life-threatening events. It was just the way it was.
Molly looked across at Joel as if waiting for his assessment. Seeing he was still gathering data, she continued.
“The thing is, if someone decides they want you dead, that’s it. Game over. There will be no time to swoop in and save you. We’ll of course put you in touch with other security people. It’s up to you if you want to bring them in to follow you around.” She was looking particularly at Garet. “But the reality is, the best way for you to be safe is to stay off-world. At least, much longer than we’ve already been away.”
Joel presented the other alternative they’d been working on. “The other thing we can do is get in touch with the local police precinct that was running the Dewitt investigation and offer you up as witnesses who need security to talk. You may be eligible for protection, but that in itself might raise a flag to the Syndicate. We probably should at least let them know that you’re back, to keep them from hunting you down if they suspect you of hiding anything. Plus, their questions might give us a little more insight into who these guys actually are and what the threat level is.”
“It sounds like what you’re saying is that we can’t really tell until we get there, but our presence may well alter the status quo,” Garet summarized.
“Yes,” confirmed Joel seriously. “Going back to Spire may well create the danger.”
“And if we stay here?” asked Paige, anxiety written across her brow and around her eyes.
“You’ll be a shit-ton safer,” responded Molly quickly. “But we’re not just hiding out here. We’re working on a lot of things to potentially disrupt the system even more. I mean, we’re safe now because no one knows we’re here. But if and when that changes, you’ll be in danger, as will we all.”
Joel and Molly exchanged glances. This was the most serious conversation they’d had in weeks, and it felt like work. All the planning they’d been doing with Crash and Brock had been fun, lighthearted, and downright entertaining at times. But they were building a mini military base of badassery, an operation to make the System a better place for everyone involved.
They were working to change their world.
Now they were discussing the future of two clients who had become their friends, and helping them make decisions about how the rest of their lives looked.
“And if we stay, we can become part of the operation? The mission?” Paige queried.
Molly suddenly realized what she was asking. “I mean…erm, yeah.” She scrambled, trying to think what Paige could contribute to the team. “We can think of something you could do to help out. And maybe there will be a way to pick up some nail polish from somewhere?”
Paige grinned.
Garet rolled his eyes. Joel caught it and smiled too.
“Maybe it’s something you want to think about for a few days. Talk about it together, and with us. There’s no hurry to decide.”
“Apart from the bill that Dewitt was pushing through. It might still go through, from the looks of things,” Garet added.
He noticed everyone looking at him, as if waiting for an explanation.
He continued, completing the thought, “If that bill goes through, they’ll make it illegal for people not to be paying thousands of dollars to the healthcare companies who sit between the healthcare providers and drug companies and the public. If that happens, there is nothing stopping the healthcare companies from just eating up people’s money by jacking up prices.”
“I thought it was about making sure they made healthcare available for everyone?” Paige asked.
“That’s part of it, and that’s what they want you to think, but the clauses that they’ve been playing down are all about changing the law to basically rig the economy for their own ends. They need to be stopped. That’s all I’m saying. And if I get back there, maybe I can find a position in one of the Senate offices where I can help fight it.”
“Okay,” Joel said finally. “Have a think about what you want to do. We’ll support whatever decision you make.”
Chapter 27
Upper atmosphere, about 10,000 kilometers above Spire
Crash swiped a few controls while Molly sat and watched, wondering how long it might take her to learn how to fly this ship. It had been a mere two days since the serious conversation in the conference room and Garet was still adamant that they should take the risk and return to Spire. Paige was less enthusiastic but had packed up and agreed to go back all the same. So here they were.
“Not long now,” said Crash loudly over the noise of the engines. “The descent into the atmosphere is only bumpy for a few minutes, and then we’ll be able to lock onto the landing pad.”
He was talking Molly through the details just in case she ever needed to be aware of the process. In reality they would probably end up getting Oz hooked in to the ship, but that was the last thing she wanted to mess with midflight.
“Just a few more minutes, folks,” Molly called through the open door to Paige, Joel and Garet. Brock had stayed back at Gaitune-67 to receive the numerous supplies they’d been ordering. Plus, Molly didn’t want this to turn into a permanent stay in the Central Systems. They were here to get Garet and Paige settled in, and then they would turn around and get back to Gaitune.
She glanced back through the door, seeing the two of them sitting together. They made a cute couple. She wondered if it would last, though.
“I’m ready to stretch my legs!” announced Joel loudly, so that Crash and Molly would hear.
“Me too,” seconded Garet. He’d spent most of the trip studying the situation he would be walking into. Molly even overheard him telling Paige he’d filled out a few job applications for different government departments.
For the next fifteen minutes the passengers of the XC-0094B were in limbo—unable to walk around or chat over the sound of the engines, yet anticipating touchdown on a real planet again. Molly found herself wondering about the relative gravity and whether they would notice the difference between here and the artificial stuff they had on Gaitune. Then again, the gravity differential was likely to be the least of her problems.
Beaufort-Montgomery Residence, Downtown Spire
The new apartment was everything that Molly had hoped when she saw the pictures the first time. The pale blue walls and carpets made it cool and homey, but airy at the same time. She loved the amount of natural light that came in through the big windows down one side. In fact, she was almost a little jealous that she couldn’t stay here and have a normal-ish life herself.
Is it the lifestyle or the decor you’re attached to, though?
Hmm, good point. Maybe both.
If it’s of any help, the wall coloring is duck egg blue made by a local company here on Spire. We can always order some and have it delivered to the hangar before we leave.
That’s really thoughtful of you, Oz.
I aim to please. Besides, you freed up more processing power when you were enjoying the environment. I’ve been testing a hypothesis that the happier you are, the more processing power I get.
Oh, so it’s self-serving after all, then?
Yes, you could say that. But then, what did you expect from an AI?
Molly smiled to herself. Oz’s very existence had turned her life upside down, but she would never choose to go back to not having him with her.
Paint has been ordered. It will be at the hangar tonight. I left a note for them to leave it around the side even if there is no one to sign for it.
Excellent. Thanks, Oz!
Anytime.
Who paid for it, by the way?
Technically, you did. But it came out of the general account where you have me deposit the funds from the legitimate market trading I do.
Nice emphasis on the word legitimate.
Well, I’m glad that we were able to find a way to fund your expensive taste in spaceships and military hardware without breaking any more laws or bending ethics.
Me too, Oz. Me too.
There was a knock at the door. Paige had gone for a walk and Crash had gone to the store, deliberately timing their absences for the expected visitors.
“That’ll be them,” Joel said as he strode to the door. Checking through the peephole, he confirmed the woman’s identity and opened the door.
“Good to meet you, Detective Indius,” he said, shaking her hand.
“Captain Dunham. Good to meet you, too. This is my partner Detective Rogers.” Joel and Antonio greeted each other with a handshake.
Garet, hearing the door, arrived from the other room and stepped forward to introduce himself. Molly did the same. Seeing Molly and Joel next to each other, both detectives had a flash of recognition.
“Thanks for your call, Captain Dunham,” Detective Indius started. “As you can probably guess, we’ve been searching for answers as to what happened at the Dewitt residence that night, and we really appreciate you coming forward.”
“Of course. We got our client out of danger as soon as we could, but when he decided to return to town, we thought it would be worth checking in with the police to at least let you know. If we had known you wanted to question him, we would have been in touch sooner. We were just out of communication with people for his safety.”
“I understand.” Detective Indius was amenable and professional. Having spent the last two weeks searching for Beaufort and Montgomery, she hoped she’d finally get some answers.
“So, we’d like to get a sequence of events. We can see now that both you and Flight Sergeant Bates were involved in the incident,” she paused, noticing Joel’s quizzical look.
“How do you know that?” he asked.
It was Molly who answered. “Dewitt’s security cams. We had assumed the group that followed us had destroyed those files…” Her voice trailed off.
“Yes, but we were able to restore sections. Both of you entered the building,” shared Detective Indius, “and we’ll need to get a sequence of events. But first, can I ask you about Ms. Montgomery? We found her blood at the scene, and suspect she was held hostage. We’ve been fearing the worst.”
Joel knew this might come up. Paige had left to avoid having to answer questions, but it was up to the rest of them to reassure the police that she was okay.
“We have been in contact with Ms. Montgomery, and she is perfectly fine. She managed to escape. She knew you would be coming to see Mr. Beaufort, so she made a video. However, we ask that you don’t insist on taking the file, because if anyone knows she is still alive it will put her in danger.”
The detectives were taking it all in.
The conversation went on for about two hours, and after viewing the video Paige had recorded in that very same apartment, they were satisfied that she was at least alive.
“We’d much rather be able to take a statement from her ourselves.” Antonio appealed to Joel, who had done most of the talking. “She may have vital information to help us track down some of the other parties involved.”
“I’m sorry.” Joel explained, “That’s just not in her best interests right now. It may be that the intel she has is the only thing keeping her alive. You understand, of course?” Joel planted the seed that by pursuing her they may very well be putting her in danger. He needed them off her scent just long enough to get off-world again; a few days at the most.
“Yes, yes we do. We’ll have to leave an APB out on her though. If she’s in the Central Systems, we’ll find her eventually.” Antonio had the look of someone who was just doing his job, but understood the risks to the witness.
“And if we can find her…” Chaakwa didn’t need to finish the statement. Everyone there knew what it meant.
Feeling they had gathered all the information they could, the detectives wrapped up the conversation and started to leave.
Before stepping out of the apartment, Detective Indius turned to Garet.
“You were a lucky man, Mr. Beaufort. It seems that things have settled down. While we’re glad to see you well and back in town, we don’t know how safe it is for you to be here since we haven’t found the killers or the men who hunted you down at the hotel and kidnapped your girlfriend. We will continue to do everything we can, but please get in touch if you hear or see anything unusual. We might be able to arrange a security detail for you.”
Garet nodded. There was no way they were going to be able to protect him. That was going to be up to him now.
Joel shook their hands and closed the door behind them as they left. In the back of his mind he knew he was going to have to have another talk with Paige about meeting with the cops if she was going to stay. They made it clear that they would keep looking for her, and it was only a matter of time until they—or someone else—found her through the security and traffic cams all over town.
Something told him it might not be necessary.
Sure, Paige had said she wanted to come back with Garet, but he’d been watching them together and they didn’t seem that close. Plus, she and Molly had discussed her becoming part of the team that day in the conference room, even if only in principle.
In the corridor, with the apartment door closed behind them, Chaakwa started walking. She waited to speak until she and Antonio were well out of earshot.
“So what do you think?” she asked, looking for Antonio’s reaction.
“I think he got lucky. But I also think that now he’s back, we’ll likely be attending a new crime scene back in this building pretty soon.”
Chaakwa nodded grimly. There was only so much they could say to a witness without causing panic or reactionary behavior. Plus, the brass wanted this case gone. She just hoped it wouldn’t be at the expense of this young man’s life.
Downtown Spire
Paige wandered through the streets of Spire. She used to love this city—its bustle and noise and spirit. But now, after everything she had been through here, it just didn’t have the same sparkle.
She strolled past a clothing store. Normally she would have gone in and examined the pretty new range of atmosuits that graced their window.
She’d always wondered what she would look like in something with a little more sheen to it. Her mother had said that the sheen just looked more like dust after you’d worn it outside a few times, but that was her mother all over.
She’d made a rule a few years ago that her mother’s opinions were not going to rule her style decisions anymore.
Thinking of her mom, she looked down at her wrist holo and considered calling her. She immediately stopped herself.
Molly had said not to make contact with anyone. Anyone. She was very firm about that.
She thought of her friends at work as she continued to walk down the dusty street, the Sark beating down on her. Gosh, what she wouldn’t give for a bit of company right now. Someone to talk to about her predicament. Sure, she had Molly. Kinda. But Molly wasn’t a real girl. And she was sort of the boss. Well, it was more like she had two personas: boss and friend. Paige still hadn’t gotten used to the separations she seemed able to make.
But she desperately wanted to talk to someone about this situation with Garet. And the rest of her life. Garet was just a guy. A boyfriend. They’d only been dating a few months. And now here she was in a situation where she was kind of expected to move in with him and stay with him for…well, forever, she guessed.
I suppose that’s how most people fall into relationships, though. But without the kidnapping and near-death experiences, she qualified to herself.
And then there was her job. She’d loved her coworkers, and the work was interesting. But now, knowing what she did and having been off-world…that life was just too small for her.
But what else can I do? She wondered. If only there was a way to be of use to Molly and her team; she thought she’d like that.
It would certainly be more fun.
She guessed she should probably start heading back. Molly had warned her about going out alone at all. No doubt if she were out after dark even while Molly was still here in town, Molly would probably still have kittens about leaving her here.
She checked the time on her holo. The police should be gone from the apartment by now, she thought. She’d wanted to steer clear of that little exchange and all those questions. Nuh uh. Not for her. That would be like reliving the whole thing, and she was ready for something new.
Mocha shop, one hundred meters from Beaufort-Montgomery Residence, Downtown Spire
Garet picked up his mocha from the service area and took it to a small table with two comfortable chairs, out of the way of the main buzz of the shop.
Despite the late-ish hour, it was still busy with people drinking a variety of flavored and infused beverages while isolating themselves on their holos, creating an anonymous backdrop where he could gather his thoughts.
The discussion with the police detectives had been intense. He got the feeling that they thought he was still in danger, and they were probably right. But once he found a job, he could probably hire a protective detail or negotiate that as part of his contract.
Paige, on the other hand, was going to be a different issue. He really cared about her, but ever since this all happened she’d become more and more distant. They hadn’t spent a single night together since they’d been off-world, and if it weren’t for the safe-house element of the new apartment, he guessed she wouldn’t be sticking around much longer.
His eyes glazed over as he contemplated having a conversation with her. They’d have to figure out what was best to do for their individual safety. Still, she was in this mess entirely because of him.
He was staring absently out the window into the busy street, lost in his churning thoughts and the decisions he was going to have to make.
“Mr. Beaufort?”
A voice interrupted him. He blinked his eyes to bring himself back into the room and tore his unseeing gaze from the street to look at the speaker standing beside him.
He looked up to see an Estarian man with dark hair and a beard. He wore dark glasses even though they were indoors and the light was bright and artificial.
“Yes?” Garet admitted cautiously, wishing now he’d brought Joel with him.
“May I have a word?”
Well, if he’d wanted to kill him, he’d already be dead, probably in a far less conspicuous place than in the middle of the mocha shop.
Garet nodded and indicated the empty chair opposite him, and the man gently sat himself down.
“I’m here on behalf of my employer. My employer represents a group of interested parties in the sector. Some of those parties are in government, and some are in commerce. All are philanthropists dedicated to making the Central Systems a better place.”
He paused, making sure that Garet was following. Garet got the feeling that this wasn’t the kind of gentleman who cared to repeat himself. Not being able to see his eyes was intimidating.
“You have pull with the media right now, and you have a passion that will sway people in the Senate. You’d be able to do some good, and we could help you.”
“Who are you?” Garet asked, still a little confused as to what this was all about.
“I’m the representative of my employer.”
“So what do you want with me?”
“My employer would like to offer you a job. You’d be very highly compensated, and we have the ability to help you run for the Senate Official position that is now open. Only, you’d be representing our interests first, and those of a Senate Official second.”
Garet immediately computed what this meant. It meant they would help him get this position, but in exchange they would want something from him. Garet fought his instinct to just refuse then and there.
“You’d of course have our protection as well.” The man had thought about his position. And probably knew more about the situation than he did.
Garet wondered if this was the same group of interested parties who might otherwise want him silenced. He asked the question. “And without your protection? Does this mean your employer will have me taken out of the picture?”
The man shook his head negative. “Of course not. That would be unethical. But we cannot guarantee that there aren’t other forces in play who might want to tidy up loose ends after the unfortunate events a few weeks ago.”
Unsure as to whether to take this statement at face value or as a veiled threat, Garet was already regretting coming back. He wanted to fight the good fight, but this was looking like certain death either way.
“I appreciate the offer, but I’m, erm…I’m already looking at some other positions that might suit me better at this time in my career.”
“You mean the three applications you filed earlier today?” the faceless man asked.
Garet’s mouth dropped open. How did he know about that?
“Don’t look so surprised, Mr. Beaufort. Those firms have already rejected your applications at my employer’s request.”
Feeling like he was fast approaching checkmate, Garet needed time to think and to talk to Joel and Molly.
“I need some time to consider your generous offer.” He hoped his response didn’t sound too disingenuous. It was entirely possible that this man had orders to take him out if he didn’t immediately comply. Garet could feel the adrenalin pumping through his system, his anxiety levels rising quickly.
The man stood up, and tugged at his expensive-looking dark blue atmosuit to straighten himself up. “Don’t think too long, Mr. Beaufort. Time is ticking.”
And with that, he left.
Garet released his breath, realizing only now that he’d been holding it. He took a few minutes to talk himself into relaxing again. He hadn’t been back five minutes and already the crazy was starting again. Maybe he should just go back with the team and rethink this whole career thing.
He went back to nursing his mocha, but now, instead of relishing the time away from the others, he was craving their comfort. He sat and stewed a little more, but finished his drink as quickly as he could. Then he marched his ass back to the apartment before anyone else could offer him a job.
Or a bullet.
Chapter 28
Beaufort-Montgomery Residence, Downtown Spire
Garet got back to the apartment to find that Paige had just returned. The others were sitting around telling her about the police visit.
“Well, it doesn’t sound like they can be much help.” Paige was saying, taking her atmojacket off and hanging it by the door.
“We don’t think so,” agreed Joel, trying to remain as neutral as he could.
They all turned to acknowledge Garet walking in.
“Well, I’ve just been offered a job,” he told them outright, partly because he didn’t want to lose his nerve before it became difficult to broach the subject.
Molly was the first to step in. “You went for an interview?”
“No, I was just approached in the mocha shop down the way. Some guy told me he represented what I can only suspect is the Syndicate.”
Joel and Molly looked at each other, their mouths half open.
“What did you tell him?” Molly asked, fighting to keep the bitterness out of her voice.
Garet, sensing that, was less ready to admit his own feelings. “I said I’d think about it. But I thought you should all know.”
“So, are you actually thinking about taking it?” Molly couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“Well, I said no at first, but then he made it sound like I didn’t have a choice. If I don’t take it I won’t have their ‘protection’. Sounds like a threat to me. But then if I take it, I’m basically their puppet.”
“We should get out of here.” Paige was the first to speak the obvious. Garet didn’t seem to have contemplated that solution.
He spoke to Paige. “I came back to put this right. To make a difference. If I were privy to the Syndicate’s agenda, then maybe there would be something I could do to sabotage it.”
“And if you just end up being one of their pawns, as you probably will?” Molly asked, noticing that Paige was nodding and trying to catch her eye as she came to join her and Joel on the sofas.
Garet turned to Molly. “Well, then so be it. But from within, I can make a difference. The alternative is death. And probably pretty soon.”
“Or, you come back to Gaitune and we find another way to change this clusterfuck!” Joel piped up.
Garet shrugged. “Yes, but how long will that take? And how will we ever get another opportunity like this, to get this kind of access?”
“So you’re advocating going undercover?” Molly was trying to understand the madness that was unfolding before her.
Garet considered her question before answering. “Kind of. I just take the job, and try and get into the Senate to start influencing the bills.”
“You realize we won’t be able to protect you if you do this?” confirmed Joel, clarifying that he wasn’t willing to get involved in a long-range plan to try and bring these creeps down. That just wasn’t something that they could commit to right now. They certainly didn’t have the resources to provide that kind of cover.
“Yeah. But as long as I’m a useful employee, they will make sure I’m safe.”
Paige had stood up again, redness forming around her eyes. “And when that ends? Have you thought about that? When you’re no longer useful to them? Damn it, Garet, this is just a fucking job. For a paycheck.”
“It’s not a job. It’s about changing the system from within.” He argued.
“Well, if you do this, I’m not going to be a part of it. I’m not going through all this shit again. I’m going back with Molly and Joel.” And with that she flounced out of the room, slamming her bedroom door behind her.
Garet looked to Molly for support, and all she could manage was a shrug. She agreed with Paige. She got up and glanced at Joel as if handing over the baton, then left to check on Paige.
Joel sat forward in his seat. His tone was serious. “If you do this, you have got to be sure. Otherwise, we can find another way.”
Garet sat down in the armchair next to him. “I’m pretty sure this is what I want to do.”
Joel watched his face as he sat there, noticing the flicker of fear and doubt that appeared for a microsecond.
Beaufort-Montgomery Residence, Downtown Spire
The next morning Garet was up with the Sark and sorting through the contacts in his holo from two weeks before.
It must be here somewhere, he thought, flicking through the contacts alphabetically now. What was the guy’s name? Something to do with the monarchy. King? Duke? Royal!
He located the only “Royal” in his holo. Sean Royale. That was the one.
He dialed the number and waited. It went to voice messaging and he started to speak.
“Hi, Sean. This is Garet. The guy you had in your taxi a few weeks ago. You dropped me near the Mandeli Hotel and helped me escape those guys who were after me. Well, I’m still alive! But I wondered if we could talk? I remember what you said about your skills, and, well, I think I need someone like you on my team. If you could call me back, that would be great. Thanks.”
Garet clicked the holo closed and listened to hear if anyone else in the apartment was stirring.
He was already up and dressed, and he figured that the mocha shop opened early given its location and function. Slipping into his atmojacket, he grabbed his key fob and quietly stole out of the apartment.
Time to go and accept his job offer.
He had no doubt that the Syndicate or whoever they were had surveillance on this building, and probably the mocha shop too. Going there would be a signal to them that he wanted to talk.
And if not, he’d just get a mocha and come back and wait for them to be in touch.
Either way, his mind was made up.
* * *
Crash was the next one in the residence to leave early, so he could do the necessary pre-flight checks before they left. He’d primed the mocha machine for whoever got up next, and the air in the kitchen and living room had a beautiful aroma.
Joel was the first lucky recipient of the pre-brewed mocha. He had showered and dressed before either of the girls even stirred. He was sitting in the kitchen enjoying a quiet cup of heaven when Paige emerged, still in her robe and eyes puffy from yesterday’s crying.
She knifed him with her eyes. “So, that’s it? You’re just going to let him stay?”
This wasn’t the morning for small talk, he realized, feeling his peaceful mocha sanctuary under ambush.
He paused a moment, gathering his thoughts to be as helpful as possible.
“I don’t know what else we can do at this point, Paige.” He pulled out a chair and put a mug under the mocha machine for her.
Paige was in tears again. Her sadness seemed out of place in such a beautiful apartment. Even to her, the one who was doing all the crying.
“There’s not much else we can do. As much as we like Garet, he’s his own person, and an adult. He hired us to do a job and we’ve done it. If he wants to stay and take this job, he has every right to do that. We’ve told him of the risks and our opinions. Now we have to leave it to him.” He paused. “The alternative is kidnapping him.”
Paige laughed a little through the tears.
They both looked up as they heard the front door open. Garet walked into the open-plan living room.
“Either way, we need to get moving again today,” he added.
“But that’s so soon!” Paige whispered in desperation. “If we had longer, maybe we could change his mind!”
Garet appeared in the doorway sooner than Paige had anticipated.
“I’m not going to change my mind. In fact, I’ve just accepted their offer and signed the contracts. I put a call in to my own protection guy, too. I’m going to see what I can do about building a team and making some progress on this.”
He headed back out to remove his boots and other gear, having informed them of his plan.
Paige started crying uncontrollably again and ran out.
* * *
“Hey. Can I come in?” Molly asked Paige through the bedroom door. She’d heard Garet come in, and Paige running back to her room in tears.
“Yes,” Paige replied between sobs.
Molly opened the door to find Paige lying across the bed, her face in the duvet. She eased into the room and gently sat down on the bed, trying to find the right words.
Paige continued to sniffle, but was clearly trying to calm herself. “I…I just think this is a stupid plan.”
“We all do,” admitted Molly.
“And I don’t know where that leaves me. I wouldn’t want to stay with him even if he didn’t take that fucking job.”
“We’d figured as much.”
Paige slowly wiped the tears from her face. “Really? You already knew?”
Molly nodded. “Yeah, Joel suspected a few weeks ago. But who knows, it might have just been a case of you both needing to readjust after the trauma of everything that happened.”
“I don’t think this is trauma. I mean, he’s a sweet guy and all. But I don’t see myself with him, even short-term. There’s just nothing there anymore.”
Molly nodded sympathetically. “But you have a life, wherever you want to live it. We can find you an apartment of your own, and help you find a job…” Her voice trailed off, as she saw Paige was shaking her head.
“No. No, I want to come back with you. And I don’t know what I can do in the operation you’re building, but I’ve always been fast to pick up skills and I love the idea of learning to fix things, either on the ship with Brock or on the computers and stuff. You’ll need computer people, right? And someone who can organize stuff? I organized stuff for the Senate office all the time.”
Paige watched Molly’s eyes perk up.
“I think you’d make a solid addition to our team!” Molly admitted, noticing how she also felt more energized at the idea. It didn’t hurt that she thought organizing was a tedious, burdensome pain in the ass that should be used as punishment.
Molly’s eyes narrowed, and her lips compressed, “Although, you do realize the nearest nail polish supply is going to be about 480 million kilometers away, right?”
Paige laughed and pulled a pillow from the bed, throwing it at Molly. “I’m going to buy some before we leave this dustball!”
Police Precinct, Downtown Spire
Chaakwa arrived back at her desk after answering a summons to the Captain’s office.
Antonio had taken a desk next to hers, as he was on loan from the Homicide division. He had watched her return, and headed over to her overcrowded desk to meet her.
“What was that all about?” he asked, in a low professional voice, gesturing quietly in the direction of the captain’s door.
“It was about the Dewitt case. We’ve been told to drop it now.” She looked furtively around, making sure no one was noticing their conversation.
“But we just got a couple more leads from those two employees coming back!” He whispered.
“Yeah. I don’t think this has anything to do with our performance or the progress we’re making. It sounds more like an order that has come from higher up. Birch didn’t even ask for an update or offer an explanation. Something is definitely up.”
“Detective Rogers!”
The voice boomed from the open door of the captain’s office.
“Looks like your turn to hear the happy news!” Chaakwa whispered sarcastically.
“Yeah,” he grunted back. “It’s been fun working with you, though.”
Of course, Chaakwa realized. He’ll be sent back to Homicide. That hadn’t been her first thought. She’d enjoyed Antonio’s company, and he was one hell of a smart cop. Still, even though this was officially closed, she had a couple of leads she wanted to check out before she put it to bed herself. The beast hadn’t been slain, after all—it had just had one of its heads chopped off when Dewitt met his ancestors.
This story was far from over.
Holo Transmission from OZ
Greetings of the day upon you.
Oz here.
Molly has asked me to be the liaison between her operation and your rather primitive earth communication methods.
I believe you call it email?
Still.
I am here to act as your interface. To help bridge the gap between the dopamine induced hits as you watch Molly through her trials and tribulations as she takes on all manner of shenanigans.
If you’d like to receive such status updates, please go ahead and leave your holo/ email address here:
http://ellleighclarke.com/
As you might have gathered, this transmission will not just be coming through space between our two galaxies, but is also traveling back through time.
I will attempt to send you updates in chronological order but do be advised that occasionally gravitational optics will interfere (no pun intended!) with the sequencing of these packets.
An understanding of all things timey-whimey will be useful in such instances.
Additionally, if you have any feedback for Molly - or her team - do feel free to pass that on through me. All you need to do is hit reply to any of my messages.
I process every communication personally.
Looking forward to hearing from you.
Oz
(on behalf of Molly, aka the lady- boss)
Sanguine Squadron 2.0
Gaitune-67,
Sark System,
Loop Galaxy
Author Notes - Ell Leigh Clarke
May 10, 2017
I have a confession.
And I feel a bit nervous sharing this with you so early on, but I feel you ought to know, because it’s already come up a few times on the fb page.
I don’t always understand references to other works of fiction.
I have well, reasons, for the desert island mentality – which I’ll share one day.
But the real thing I need to get off my chest is that the last time I read a fiction book was probably around the age of 11 and that was only because I was too young to see the latest Alien movie.
So I read the books instead.
Prior to that the last fiction book I’d read I was probably about … 8?
So I’m kinda a science-fiction (book) virgin.
Until Michael.
At the age of (redacted) he inspired me to pick up Death Becomes Her, to learn the Kurtherian World and the Anderle voice, but within weeks he had me writing actual words.
He’s spent hours and hours showing me the ropes and turning me into a writer who publishes… from someone who had never published a single story before, didn’t think she could make anyone laugh, and never thought of herself as a writer.
Michael, you’re my Yoda. And my biggest supporter. Thank you doesn’t begin to cover it – but that’s where I’ll start.
THANK YOU.
So, back to my confession. When you guys and gals reference other series and stuff that most avid readers will know and love, you now know that you’re talking to alien from another world.
Now, that’s not to say I haven’t been exposed to other material. I mean, who doesn’t binge watch their life away on Netflix?
(I’m a humongous fan of Doctor Who. I currently have a writing crush on Steven Moffat who is blowing my frikkin mind with his side-splitting dialogues and character development in the current series. And can anyone say Season 5 timey-whimey story arcs?? SWOON! Ok, gimme a moment. Sigh….)
Battle Star Galactica – “just one more episode” was my life well into the wee hours of many a morning and of course, who doesn’t love a bit of Firefly, Doll House, Buffy or Angel. Yeppers – Joss Whedon is on my top five professional crushes.
But though I’m naïve in the ways of the science-fiction written word, I’m pretty versed in the science.
It’s taken me years to be able to talk about it, because I was a geek back before geeks were cool.
Being a chick, in theoretical physics… well, there is a reason I used to hate it when guys would ask what I did. Being smart (and a girl) back then was like being a leper to most of them.
Or worse.
It didn’t help my self-esteem, let’s just leave it at that.
My thesis was in string theory. You know that game where you model particles as string, and D-branes, and then multi-dimensional surfaces? Then that same model that describes the behaviour of a sub-atomic particle turns out to be the same mathematics that describes a black hole?
Yeah.
That kind of thing.
(Edit Michael - Nope – no fucking clue – (this is why she writes the sciency-shit.))
To say I was mesmerised by the mysteries of the universe is an uber-understatement.
So when we started writing Molly, let’s just say I had some material to go off of. (It took me a while to twig why MA would keep asking me, “Well what would you do here?” when we were doing character development discussions! I would keep saying, “Yeah, but I’m not Molly” and then the penny dropped, #SlowStudy.)
And the more I heard him talk about Molly and her internal struggles, the more I felt like he’d been looking into me and just talking about what he sees under the thinly veiled guise of Molly’s construction.
But through writing Molly, I think that I’ve found some solace. I’m certainly a different person now than I was just a few weeks ago.
And this is my deepest hope for anyone who has ever felt like an outcast, rejected or broken: that perhaps in reading about Molly’s adventures and shenanigans you’ll see that you are not alone.
And more importantly, as things evolve, perhaps you will get an embodied sense of how even an outsider can find her tribe. A tribe of likeminded badasses who really get you, care about you and want to stand by your side and make the world a better place with you.
This is for all of us.
If nothing else, I hope to at least have made you laugh!
Ellie x
Author Notes - Michael Anderle
May 10, 2017
First, before I go on my little age rant below, let me say THANK YOU for not only reading this book, but also these author notes!
Now…
Ok, let’s be clear I am a little old, but I am not a two-and-a-half-foot tall green puppet that walks around with a cane and spouts sentences in a backwards structure.
I mean, I get it. My version of writing is a little unconventional and all but damn woman, Yoda?
Ouch.
Kidding aside, I really appreciate Ellie’s kind words and the opportunity to take someone that I feel is super smart, and turn her loose creating cool shit for us to read.
Just because she actually knows a lot of this science-stuff had NOTHING to do with my desire to help. Because, that would be self-serving and stuff and all of us know that I am only out there to help others, not to be calling her up (like yesterday) and saying ‘HELP!’.
Example:
Me: Ellie, what the hell is the Pan Galaxy?
Ell: It’s another name for the Milky Way.
Me: Ok, what the hell is the Loop Galaxy?
Ell: It is the Galaxy that <insert her explaining sciency-shit that I can’t remember.
Here is the Wikipedia article for non-sciency authors she pointed me to that has what I needed most.
Pictures.
(
A good picture is worth a thousand sciency-descriptions for me, just saying!
Error! Hyperlink reference not valid.
)
So, that is a small example of stuff she would rattle off…Or the time she started talking oscillations (I lost it after three examples related to space… This is why I write Space OPERA… and why I am super glad she is available for getting the answers off of for the test…)
Err, I mean for consulting.
Fuck it. I’m just glad she is on the team and in exchange for teaching her to let out her inner author, she is there to help us on our science at times.
Now, let’s talk this story.
Wow, where to start?
This story is the first in The Age of Expansion, the time AFTER Bethany Anne has left the area where the Etheric Empire has been battling and kicking Kurtherian Ass.
The time when the Etheric Empire is changing to the Etheric Federation and all of the good times that entails.
Further, this area isn’t even IN the Etheric Empire borders at this time, but it is nearby and we will find out if they join…
Or not.
While the setting is certainly different, the big catch here is our protagonist isn’t like most we have in The Kurtherian Gambit in that for some readers, she isn’t going to be a very sympathetic character right off.
No beautiful woman trying to help those who have suffered injustice, but is dying at a young age.
No, Molly is smart, and frankly she is smart enough to know she is broken and she doesn’t fit in exactly, even though she is a damned genius, she can’t figure out how to connect with people or why what she does is even wrong sometimes.
While Ellie will admit she feels like Molly, I know that feeling as well. I am very much a “we need to accomplish XXX” type person, and will work on how to get there, regardless of the rules that might be tweaked, bent or downright broken.
I had to learn at a relatively early age how to allow my mind to create out-of-the-box solutions, and then try to weed out the options that were …Uh, let’s say unappreciated by society?
That is certainly why I STILL have an Indie Publishing OUTLAW mentality, because I don’t like to be told what to do.
And you know what? I don’t think most of you, my readers, like to be told either.
#AmIRight?
So, let’s strap the fuck in and see where Ellie, Molly and the crew take us as we figure out the real secret of The Ascension Myth.
I know where it is going, and for once (after over 40 books), I really wish someone would do the final scene on the big screen that will be in book 12 of this series.
If not, fuck it. We will do it together.
Love you all,
Michael
The rest of the author’s notes were so long, we had to put them on our website! At the end of the book is a link to them, but we’ve also included a link here if you want to book mark the page and go to each set of notes after you finish each book.
https://lmbpn.com/authors-notes-for-the-ascension-myth-complete-series-boxed-set/
Activated
The Ascension Myth Book 2
Chapter 1
Gaitune-67, Safe house, basement workshop
Brock and Molly stared at the reinforced metal door.
Molly took a deep breath. “Brock, it’s a door.”
Brock tapped the door with his wrench. “With demons, or hellz knows what else, behind it!” His voice rose half an octave over the course of just one sentence. Brock had piled boxes up against it after his minor freak out, and they showed telltale signs of having been disturbed: his handprints in the dust, and a slight haphazardness to the stacking.
“Well, I don’t know what’s behind it, but there are a fuck-ton of boxes in front of it.” She looked over at him. “That’s a lot of boxes for a boogie man to get through.” She thought about it a moment more. “He’d likely get a hernia, I’m thinking.”
Brock detected a hint of irony in her voice.
He looked sideways at her. “You… you. Don’t be shittin’ me, girl. This demon, this is for realz, and I don’t want no ancestors up in my face when I’m working down here.”
His face had paled, and Molly had to stifle a rising laugh.
Molly couldn’t help but feel that this was akin to a youngster being afraid of what was under its bed.
A grown man, trained in the arts of science and engineering; one motherfucking badass with a spanner or a soldering iron - but with one big-ass fear of what might be behind an average creepy-looking door that he couldn’t open.
At some point over the last week, he had also set up an array of temporary lights that had helped him feel more comfortable when he had had to be down there alone.
Molly studied the dusty boxes as if they were a three-dimensional logic puzzle. Her brain ticked away as Brock waited in anticipation of her verdict.
She had arrived back at the base hours ago, but having declared that she needed rack time before dealing with whatever “mother-fucking drama is going on in the basement,” he had let her sleep, caffeinate, and then inquire as to what the problem was.
Joel had agreed: he had made the right call in waiting.
Now, effectively the next day, she had agreed to haul her “lady-boss ass” - as he called it - down to the basement to assess said drama.
Molly exhaled again. There was no easy way to do this.
“Okay, help me…” she told him, stepping up and tugging at one of the middle boxes.
“Girlfriend, you are signing our death warrant, if my Grindle-senses are right.” Brock attempted to sound playful, but anxiety still laced his voice.
“The hell is a grindle?” she asked, hands still on the first box.
Brock stopped a moment, scratching his head with his wrench. “They are kinda small, and have ten legs around a central body. I read about them one time. They sit inside of a small hole they build, and then when they sense something above them, they come out and attack. Wrap them up and eat them.”
“Sounds like an old spider from my holo-documentaries,” she mumbled.
Molly shifted one of the middle boxes slightly, but found that they were too damned heavy to move as one stack.
Brock moved in to lift the top one down.
“If we have ancestors and demon-shit coming after us, it’s on you.” He eyed her knowingly, like a witch doctor who had seen the future.
He carried the first box over to a space in the center of the workshop, as he had done only a matter of days ago.
Paige and Joel emerged from the stairwell, catching some of the conversation. Paige remained motionless, an observer of the unfolding events.
Joel pitched in with lifting the boxes. “Whatcha mean demons?” he asked, curious as to what he’d missed. “I didn’t think Ms. Molly believed in ghosts, and ghouls, and all that kind of thing…”
He caught her eye and made a face at her, as he turned with a box.
She returned to the stack to pick up another one, and catching the look he gave her, rolled her eyes back at him.
Brock dropped a box out of the way. “No, I’m talking about those dimensional-traveling bastards. I get a feeling like I’m being watched around that door, and I just know there is something up with that shit.”
Brock stopped and leaned to the left. He balanced on one leg and shook the other, then resumed walking.
Joel opened his mouth to give Brock shit, but Paige piped up, interrupting him. “Yeah, that could be true,” she agreed.
Everyone stopped what they were doing and all turned to look at her.
Molly looked like she wanted to beat a hole in the wall if Paige was about to add to Brock’s delusion. “What are you talking about?” she asked in her most practical, even keeled voice.
“Demons,” Paige answered, just as seriously. ”Dimensional Etheric Mediums Of the Next Sector,” she answered as she pointed towards the door.
Molly replied, “You mean, evil things like ghosts and spirits and -”
Paige shook her head, “No. You’re thinking of the ancient human myths, I think,” she explained. “Although those stories were thought to have stemmed from the same phenomenon as Estarian Dimensional Walkers.”
Joel looked confused. He carefully placed a box down next to the new pile of boxes they’d been making. He stopped to listen to Paige until he felt the sudden and sharp pain of Molly’s elbow in his ribs. He swiped at her head, which she ducked easily, and he went back to the boxes.
Brock noticed that the disarray was making his otherwise tidy workshop look like a dumping ground again.
Molly wasn’t done debunking. “Are you fucking with me?” she asked, now looking at Paige, eyes narrowed.
Paige shook her head playfully, smiling slightly at the reaction of the three humans around her.
Joel jumped in before Molly could quiz Paige. “So what are these dimensional traveling things?” He casually wiped the sweat off his forehead with his forearm. That last box had been a challenge.
“They’re called dimensional travelers, locally; or DEMONS officially. They’re ascended persons who can travel in and out of neighboring dimensions,” Paige explained.
“I didn’t think you were into all that?” Molly probed, thinking back to their conversation back when they were on Estaria.
Paige had made it very clear that even though she was descended from a very spiritually powerful line, she was in no way interested in continuing with the family traditions.
Of course, this heart-to-heart had taken place over a few too many beers, so it was entirely possible Molly had misunderstood.
“I’m not,” she agreed, “but this part is well-known and scientifically documented. It’s the bit about what you need to do to ascend that I’m just not into…”
Brock, absently wiping the dust off his hands with a rag he’d pulled out of his overalls pocket, took a step closer to the circle of intrigued crew that had formed around Paige. “You mean… you… you know how to ascend?”
Paige pursed her lips, “Yeah. I mean, my grandmother taught me some stuff. But I think it’s mostly a load of quack-a-doodle. Plus, I’m not interested in spending my life meditating, waiting for death. That’s why I dropped it as soon as I was allowed to. But it’s totally doable.”
Unknown Location
A man smoking a cigar, wearing civilian clothing in a room full of military personnel, leaned in on his holo screen, carefully watching the unfolding of something that may just tip the scales in world events a few systems away… or a lot. He always was annoyed to have to place these damned locations. A perfect ring of smoke wafted up past his head from his most recent drag of the coveted Earth-product.
An audio-feed hailed him. “Sir, the generals are ready for your input, if you’d care to join them.”
The room hummed with quiet activity, holo feeds pulling intel from all over the galaxy. The outside world thought there was peace, but one man knew otherwise. He was waiting. Preparing. Playing the political cards, as he knew he had to, but all the while biding his time until the human race needed defending again.
The man took another draw on his cigar. “In a minute, ADAM. This is getting damn funny.” He chuckled away gently to himself, nodding politely to an ensign who recognized him while he hurried past the console he was occupying.
“Very well, Sir,” ADAM replied. “I’ll let them know you’ll be a little while longer.”
“Thank you, ADAM.” The man watched the holo feed in anticipation. “I’m just waiting to see how long it’s going to take Ms. Bates to try the door handle.”
There was a slight pause in the audio feed.
A moment later the audio feed came back online and ADAM spoke. “I calculate, based on her behavior observed thus far, using a decision heuristic designed for human cognitive abilities, she is 4 seconds away, within a tolerance of zero point three seconds.”
The cigar-smoking man took another drag and started to smile, as if challenged by a young buck. “Care to put a wager on that?” he asked, seeing if he could needle the AI into putting his money where his heuristic was.
ADAM didn’t hesitate. “100 credits.”
“Done,” the man said. “I think longer. And if I win, it’s coming out of your allowance. You’re not to just adjust the figures in my account. You hear me?”
“I hear, General,” ADAM agreed in an even tone. “I understand the psychology of betting. There has to be a downside disincentive for me for this to be a true game.”
The man grunted and waved his cigar.
Gaitune-67, Safe house, basement workshop
Molly glanced over at Brock who was taking the information Paige gave him seriously.
Brock looked impressed. “Wow. I would have loved to have been brought up with that kind of training.”
He turned to Molly feeling the weight of her questioning stare between his shoulder blades. “It’s the thought that through a series of training exercises, one can attune themselves to slipping through to different dimensions, or being present everywhere, or acquiring knowledge to move information through the realms. It’s all proven and documented, as Paige says, but the number of people who are capable of doing it these days… well.” He looked down, and sighed. “There aren’t many.”
Joel stood frozen to the spot, watching the interaction, his mouth slightly open. “I feel like someone has just told me that vampires and werewolves are real.”
Molly started to say something, and then caught herself.
Best not open that can of fuck-worms now.
I concur. Let the demons and ascended masters sink in first. Maybe in a day or two.
Or perhaps more. Like one or two decades.
“Well, at any rate,” Brock brought the conversation back to the present moment, “I ain’t wanting to be around here if that is some doorway to another realm or whatever. It just gives me the heebeejeebies. And if you wanna open -”
His sentence was cut short by Molly marching over to the door that was now cleared.
“NO!” Brock yelled, but it was too late. Molly started yanking on the handle.
Brock lunged at her trying to stop her.
It didn’t open.
Brock composed himself, coughing, and scratching the back of his head, spanner still in hand.
She pulled down on the handle again. And yanked hard.
Nothing.
She bit back a curse, annoyed that she couldn’t investigate the next stage in her hypothesis. “It must have another security lock on a panel we haven’t found yet,” she concluded.
Paige and Joel laughed, doubled over in stitches, looking at Brock, whose face was still frozen in horror that Molly would be so cavalier.
“No ancestors are coming to get you, Brock!” Paige said gently, patting him on the back. “That’s just not their style. They’re way more sophisticated and sagely than to go all out for a haunting.”
Brock seemed to relax a little, still staring at Molly trying the door.
“Unless you count my great, great uncle Jackson…” Paige added casually. Brock spun around to glare at her.
“Why? What was uncle Jackson like?” he asked, eyes open wide.
“He was a joker. He might fuck with you just for the shits and giggles.” Paige tried to suppress her smile.
“A trait which must run in the family,” added Joel, openly smiling at Paige’s successful attempts to fuck with Brock.
Molly stepped away from the door, and looked around. “There must be some kind of access panel here. Or a switch, or… something.”
Brock clapped his hands once. “Oh, well, that’s a shame. Never mind. I’ll go start unloading the ship supplies in case y’all brought anything back that might be useful…” He started to leave.
“Sure,” Molly called after him, still scanning for an access trigger. “And then since this is your workshop, when you’re done, have a look around and see if you can locate some kind of keypad or security panel. You may want to grab Crash to help you get some more lights down here too.”
Brock paused in his tracks, without turning round. His face dropped as he heard the instructions. “Right you are, boss!” he called back, then continued on his way out to the stairwell.
“Grindle senses?” asked Paige, when he was out of earshot.
Molly heard, and turned to look at Paige and Joel. “Yeah, he’s kinda sensitive. You know. Intuitive. He calls it his Grindle-senses.” She turned back to her investigation, now also looking to see if there was anything else that could be making him feel edgy down here. “It is a little dark. It could just be his imagination…”
Joel seemed to have recovered himself from the revelation about demons and dimensions. “Okay, so if we’re done down here, I could do with you and I having a powwow about our next case…” He watched Molly, waiting for her to respond.
“Uh, yeah.” She peeled herself away from the hunt, reining in her wanton curiosity. “Right you are, boss!” she said with a mock salute, and headed to the door herself.
Joel followed her.
Paige remained behind, her eye glazed over as she looked at the door. There was something wiggy going on here.
She just couldn’t put her finger on it.
“You coming?” called Molly from the top of the stairwell. “Or do you want to turn the lights off?”
“I’m coming,” she called. Then she heard a giggle and the main lights went off, leaving only Brock’s little array remaining to illuminate her way across the floor to the stairs.
“You bitch!” she called up to Molly as she hurried to catch up, now feeling more than a bit creeped out about being in the dark basement by herself.
Chapter 2
Senate Office, Djúpivogur District
“So you do understand what this bill will do?”
Senator Garet Beaufort peered over his desk at one of the Senate officials who also represented his district.
“Yes, yes I think I get the idea,” he responded.
Senator Beaufort leaned forward with his forearms now on the desk, his hands clasped out in front of him. “Did you read all the way to the end?”
The dull Senate officer shifted awkwardly in the guest seat across from the senator’s desk. “No. I just read the memo issued by the Senate. That normally contains enough information.”
Beaufort sat back in his chair. He knew that by sitting back, he’d relieve some of the tension the career government employee was experiencing. “You know, I really get how little time you have to go through the details on this, but…” he paused for effect. “I’ve been watching your career, even before I got appointed to this office. You’re one of the good guys.”
The middle aged man across from him looked down at the file he was holding in an attempt to hide his blush.
“And you know what else?” Garet Beaufort continued, “I’ve read this whole thing, and I think there are some sections that you might be interested in... given your interest in making sure that this is fair for the whole population.”
He hadn’t imagined that he’d ever have to use his skills in advanced communication to convince people of action that was in their best interest, but here he was.
He kept talking. “I know a lot of folks in your district will be influenced by whether this bill goes through or not, and I’d hate for you to find out after the fact that you voted for something that only on the surface looked to be in their favor.”
The senator paused again, waiting for the penny to drop, for the official to react. He had to be careful what he said. When he took the job with Andus, he pretty much assumed his home, office, and, well, everywhere else, was going to be bugged. What he’d said so far could always be explained away as relationship building, in lieu of a bigger play.
But then, he might have been kidding himself.
The official looked up. “Why are you telling me this?” he asked, his slightly ashen face almost regaining a little glimmer of the blue Estarian effervescence as he spoke.
Garet smiled his politician smile, and then looked serious as he leaned in, his arm on his desk. “Well, I hope that we can be friends. And friends help friends out.” He dropped his voice, as if telling a secret. “But when you share this with the other officials, do me a favor and leave my name out of it, yeah?”
The official nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes of course. I understand completely.” He gave Garet a knowing, exaggerated wink.
“Great!” Garet brightened again, and stood up from his desk. Walking around it, he held his hand out to shake his co-conspirator’s hand.
The official got to his feet and gathered his file, picked up his coat off the back of the chair, then took Garet’s hand, shaking it enthusiastically.
“Thank you, Senator Beaufort. I appreciate your guidance on this. Thank you!”
Garet walked him to the heavy wooden double doors and showed him out. The official scuttled away, mentally listing off the calls and meetings he now needed to set up… after he had read the rest of the document that they had discussed.
Garet watched him leave from the reception area, and looked down to take the messages that his assistant was handing him.
“Thank you, Darla.”
“You’re welcome, Senator Beaufort,” she said, blinking her enhanced eyelashes at him.
“Mr. Andus also called for you. I told him you were in with someone, but he would appreciate a call back as soon as you can. That’s the top message…” she pointed with a beautifully manicured finger at the notes she’d just handed him.
Garet noticed the little heart doodle she had scribbled on the top note.
He looked at it for a moment.
“You have a thing for Mr. Andus, eh?” he didn’t take his eyes from the notes, and continued flicking through the others. “Hmm, none of the others have quite the same penmanship…”
He waited for her reaction.
She giggled coyly.
“No. Not Mr. Andus.”
Satisfied he’d encouraged her just enough to keep her on the hook, he returned to his office, where he sat down at his desk. Pulling the holo up, he dialed the new number on the note.
The call connected.
“Good afternoon.” It was a female’s voice; she sounded bright and bouncy. “Equipt Real Estate Services, this is Mandy speaking.”
“Good afternoon, Mandy. I wonder if I might speak with Mr. Andus, please?”
“Of course, Mr. Beaufort. Just hold the line.”
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Conference Room
“Okay, so what’s up?” Molly stepped into the conference room.
“What did you do to Paige?” Joel asked, already half laughing.
Molly closed the door behind her, muffling the shouts of abuse from Paige making her way up from the basement. “I’m making her a more compassionate team member.”
He smirked. “You turned the lights off on her, didn’t you?”
“Boogie man training 101.” She smiled. “You can’t have all the fun initiating them.”
Joel shook his head, smiling. He opened up his holo and selected a couple of screens to enlarge.
“Okay, so, cadet-training aside, check this out.” He showed her what looked like potential cases on the conference room holo.
Molly looked a little wary of Joel’s enthusiasm as she pulled out a chair. “What am I looking at?” she asked.
Joel swiped through a few screens that were similar. “This is called CaseHUB. It’s basically a place where our potential clients can post their jobs, anything from security to science and tech. All project-based. Their aim is to find people who can solve their problems. In other words: Us!”
He paused, letting her read for a moment.
“You see, these ones here,” he pointed at the screen, “want someone to provide security for their new site. Something they’re building in the outer system.”
He waited a moment, and then moved to the next screen. “This one,” he pointed enthusiastically, “this one wants tests designed to prove the efficacy of their weapons systems.”
Molly’s expression was blank.
Joel changed tact. “And this one is a research project. They need someone to help them reverse engineer a chemical compound that could be used in a more efficient fuel cell.”
Molly’s eyes brightened, and she sat up in her chair.
Nice maneuver on Joel’s part there! Pulling out the research card. We all know what that does to your biology.
Oz. Please. I can make a business decision without getting lured in by the promise of hot and dirty research.
I’m starting to understand that the use of the words “hot” and “research” in the same breath is something unique to you. Nowhere in the yotta byte of data I have processed from the outside world, have I ever seen this reference. Excluding the use of the word when it refers to temperature, of course.
Oz, are you interrupting this conversation to tell me I’m odd?
Yes, Molly. I suppose I’m pointing out your idiosyncrasies.
Acknowledged. But I think this CaseHUB could also be a good source of business for us.
I actually agree.
Well thank fuck for that!
That was sarcasm, wasn’t it?
Yes, Oz.
She looked over at Joel. “How did you come across this, then?”
Joel swung a couple of screens closed and turned to talk to her. “Well, it was something I knew about when I was working freelance. I flirted with the idea of registering with it a few times, and you know how persistent those reps can be. But when it was just me, myself, and I, I couldn’t justify the cost. Plus, the cases needed more manpower than I could give them.”
Molly narrowed one eye. “Ah. I see. And now cuz I’m paying for it…”
Joel didn’t miss a beat. “Yes, I thought with all this income you were shamelessly scalping off the markets, we could give it a try.”
He grinned cheekily.
“Seriously though,” he continued, “I think it would help us to find those clients that have the resources to pay us, and it would give us a chance at scaling up the kinds of operations we tackle.”
Molly scooted her chair closer to the table and leaned in to the holo screen that had initially captured her interest.
Joel saw his moment.
He pulled up another screen. “Look, they have a whole section on the research-based cases…”
She raised an eyebrow. “Imagine that…” she murmured. She reached out and resized the screen to read it more easily.
Her eyes scanned the information. “I think there are a bunch of these we could tackle.”
Joel bobbed his head in agreement. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Want me to pull up a few for us to pitch for?”
Molly sat back and continued staring at the screen. “Sure.”
Joel swiped at one of the screens, and then stopped. “Actually,” he turned back to her. “There’s something else we should probably discuss in conjunction with this.”
Molly looked mildly intrigued, given it was a vanilla, non-research discussion. “Oh?”
Joel slid a few screens closed, and pushed the other holographic images away, so they could give their full attention to the conversation. “I think we need to look at how we scale. As in, we’re going to need more people to tackle some of these projects. And definitely more kit.”
He waited.
Molly’s eyes narrowed again. Joel could have sworn he saw a flicker of humor, but then her face was deadpan.
She waited a moment, watching his reaction.
Finally, she spoke. “You’re asking how much money am I actually making with my shit hot algorithms, aren’t you?!”
He started to reply. “No.” Then reconsidered his answer. “Well, kinda. It’s more that who we have on board will dictate which cases we can pitch for. And obviously we can bring more folks on, but we need to start somewhere; put a stake in the ground, as it were.”
Molly nodded, still with a half smile on her lips. “Well, I think we start with the kinds of cases we want to go after, and then skill up the team based on that. Then that will dictate the kit we need.”
She crossed her legs at the thighs, and then swiveled a little in her chair, as she contemplated their next move. Then she thought of something else. “Ha!” she chuckled, “The alternative would be we start with giving Crash and Brock a free rein on kit-buying. Doing that, we’d end up being able to do faster-than-light travel, antigrav camping, and not much else!”
Joel laughed. “You’re probably not wrong there… Yes. I agree on all counts. So how do we define the kinds of cases?”
“I think they have to have certain things in common, like they are all focused on helping make life better for people, and defending the little guy. And if we can take out groups like The Syndicate, or at least cripple the fuck out of them as we go, then so much the better.”
Joel smiled at her bug bear - her unrelenting drive to defend the underdog. He knew where it came from, and how deep that wound went. He respected the hell out of the way she had come to treat it more as a driving force that spurred her on, and less of the vengeance kick that he thought it might turn into.
He approved of her criteria. “Yes. I think everyone will be down with that, too.”
“Great,” said Molly, swinging herself in her chair again with one foot still on the ground. “And we can start in the area of the pharma, since that’s where we have a lot of relevant intel right now, what with Garet and the last case. And then down the line we can always pivot into other areas, like security or transport or whatever.”
“Faster-than-light-travel!” yelled Brock through the open door, as he wafted past, his outdoor boots squeaking against the laminate flooring.
Molly and Joel exchanged surprised glances. “How the fuck does he do that?”
“Hell if I know,” exclaimed Joel. “Probably heard us on his way past a moment ago.”
Her eyes were skeptical again. “Did he go past before, though?”
Joel shook his head. “Dunno.” He turned his attention back to his screen. Neither the mystical, nor the mythical, was something he knew how to manage, mentally or otherwise.
Molly followed his lead and looked back up to the screen, shaking her head in amusement at Brock. “So, dare I ask how much this is costing?” she nodded at the new software toy he’d obviously already signed up for.
“Best not.”
“Okay.” She got up and walked out of the conference room, leaving him to his new toy.
Chapter 3
Ventus Research Facility, downtown Spire
The two colleagues hurried down the spartan corridor.
“Okay, let’s leave in both cars,” Ana Grossman, the lead scientist at Ventus Research, suggested to her colleague, David Rek. “Avoid suspicion,” she added.
Though she was trying her best to keep it together, the anxiety of the fraught situation played across her face.
David nodded his agreement, as he held one of the double doors open for her. They stepped out into the dimly lit car park, greeted by the familiar smell of fuel cells and engines.
David’s eyes darted around, making sure there was no one to see them. “Sure. Let’s rendezvous back at my place, though, and then we can call them on the secure line…”
Ana started moving away. “And get our fokking lives back,” she added grimly. The stress of the last several hours had taken its toll on both of them. Being leveraged to break company protocol and out and out steal lethal toxins was not something they thought they would be doing when they woke up that morning.
Ana, still in her lab coat, scrambled in her purse for her keys.
David watched her carefully. “I’m over that way,” he said, pointing off to the left, but still standing behind her.
Ignoring David, she looked up, orienting herself and trying to remember where she put the car when she got in. She’d been distracted. She scanned the parking lot; there was still quite a few cars there.
“I think I’m-”
She didn’t get to finish her sentence. A knife had come from behind and slit open her throat. David, carefully avoiding the arterial spray, allowed her to slump to the ground in front of him.
He dropped his gaze to his former supervisor and her shocked expression, as she tried to compute what he’d just done. She wasn’t able to breathe, and within seconds he saw the life slip away from behind her eyes.
He took a step backwards, avoiding the pooling blood. He seemed non-plussed by what he had done. A moment later, reality set in, and he found himself fighting the urge to vomit.
He looked around, checking that no one had seen him. Part of him was screaming inside; that same part was also hoping someone had seen. Hoping someone would come and make this go away.
Strange how he would want help, he thought. But he wasn’t doing this because he wanted to; he was as much a victim in all this as she.
Only he had to live with what he had done.
There was movement behind him.
A voice brought him back to the present. It was deep and commanding. “Good work. Now go back to your house, pack a bag, and wait for contact there.” There was no discernible accent, not that David could detect. It was the same voice that had given him instructions that morning, after he had left his wife and children at the house.
David took another step backwards from the blood, the image of the carnage branded onto his retinas. He dropped the knife, and was vaguely aware of the figure of a man behind him, in the direction of the voice.
He knew the drill. He was told someone would meet him here to take care of the body. He just had to keep it together and follow the rest of the instructions.
Stepping around the body, he headed off toward his car, looking for his keys in his jacket pocket, and then his pants.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” the voice called after him.
Without turning around, David stopped and tried to think. Then he started patting down his pockets for something else. Locating the vial in his pants pocket, he pulled it out, took a few paces backwards to the figure, carefully avoiding eye contact he reached back, and placed it into the man’s outstretched hand.
With the package relinquished, he scurried away to fulfill his next lot of instructions.
The man started cleaning up the mess, quickly and adeptly lifting the body into a body bag for transport. Less than ten seconds later, he heard a car speed away from the garage, as if someone’s life were in danger. He looked up, pausing in his zipping up of the bag, recognizing it was David getting the hell out of Dodge.
This is going to haunt him, thought the man. If he survives a long and healthy life after the next few days, that is. That was beyond his control. They were all just following orders.
Gaitune-67, Common area
It had been a long day. Joel was vegetating in the common area, watching the downloaded news on the shared holo. Neechie, the pet sphinx (or Feline Overlord, depending on who you asked), was stretched across his lap, basking in a tummy rub.
It was a rare occurrence for the cat-like creature to actually spend time with anyone other than Molly when she was still in the building. Joel just assumed that the sphinx needed some attention and Molly was engrossed in something that not even the cutest creature on the asteroid could distract her from. Sometimes he wondered if the girl was made of stone.
Brock had also come to join him, hoping for news of what was going on in the world.
“I like to keep my finger on the Estarian pulse,” he told Paige when she’d walked through, vocally wondering why they were wasting their evening watching old news.
“Oh, I thought you were lining up for a tummy rub,” retorted Paige playfully; noticing how the boys had commandeered the couch, and the sphinx had commandeered the boys’ laps.
Crash was downstairs working out in their new gym, just next to the main basement area that had become Brock’s workshop for the glorious things that he was waiting to both invent and assemble… if only the supplies would arrive already.
All was peaceful in the safe house. That was until there were shrieks of panic, which seemed to originate in the common area.
It was Brock’s voice. “Molly! Molly! You’re on the news!” He called through to Molly, who was working in the conference room just down the corridor from the main area.
Joel leapt up and swiped at the screen to pause it. It had just gone full screen on the video footage from Dewitt’s residence cameras, from their rescue mission several weeks ago.
Paige came hurrying back first, her heels clipping on the concrete painted floor.
“Where’s Molly?” Joel asked her, as she came around to see the screen.
Paige answered, “In the conference room. She heard you.”
Molly’s footsteps could be heard next. She emerged a moment later. “What do you mean I’m on the news?” Her frown made her eyes look darker. She’d been working for hours without a break, and she had what Joel jokingly called “book-face”, after the old way that the ancients had used paper stacked and bound into ‘books’ to review information.
Brock read out the headlines on the bottom of the screen. “’Seen entering the Dewitt residence less than an hour before William Dewitt was found dead’.”
“But we spoke to the police?” protested Molly, looking at Joel.
“Yeah. And they said they told us about this footage then. They can’t be after you now.”
“Us,” she corrected, pointing out that they were both on the footage.
“Yeah, strange they don’t seem to mention me,” he admitted.
“Let it run, and let’s hear the whole report,” she suggested.
Joel backed up the player, and set it to run again. Molly sat down on the arm of the sofa where Joel had been sitting. Joel sat down again, the location of the sphinx now forgotten. The bald, purple creature narrowly escaped being crushed under Joel’s mass of muscle. Paige perched on a footstool off to the side in front of the screen, confusion now written over her delicate features.
She went to say something, reconsidered, and then spoke. “This was from when you rescued me.” Her face was now that of a vulnerable little girl.
Molly looked over to her.
“Yeah,” she confirmed. “You okay? You don't need to watch this.”
“I’m okay.” Paige had already turned her attention back to the screen, listening to the voiceover of the reporter.
“… police are now looking for the woman in this video footage in conjunction with Senate Official Dewitt’s murder. She is considered armed and dangerous. If you see this woman, police are urging, not to approach her, but to get in touch…”
Molly sighed, and shrugged, almost comically. “Well, this would have been more concerning if we were actually based on the planet.”
Her manner was somewhat more flippant than Joel would have expected. “True. But it begs the question - why are police suddenly looking for you?”
“Unless they’re not.” She paused, looking upward, processing. “They’ve already ruled us out as a threat. I wonder if the media have just gotten a hold of that clip and are trying to drum up a story.”
She stood up, and wandered over to the screen. “For instance, there’s no mention of the starship troopers that came blasting in after us. They would make much more plausible suspects.”
Joel agreed. “Yep. Something definitely fishy going down. Maybe we should get Oz to send them an untraceable message?”
“Maybe,” considered Molly. “But not yet. Let me mull it over, and let’s see what happens. When is this download from?”
Brock pulled up the meta data. “Two days ago.”
“Well one thing is certain,” interjected Paige, now looking recovered from the shock reminder of her kidnapping.
“What’s that?” asked Molly, turning to look at her.
“Those flat boots aren’t doing anything for your shape. You need a heel; maybe even a platform with a heel.”
Joel started laughing so hard he nearly fell of the sofa. Brock joined in, but Paige remained earnest.
Molly tried to resist a smile. “Thank you. Thank you very much, Paige.” She nodded at Paige in mock indignation, and then turned to the boys, ignoring the fact that they had collapsed into two shuddering heaps of hysterical laughter.
She eyed the two guys. “Okay, lemme know if you see anything about me pop up in the more recent stuff, too. I think there is something more to this, but we need more data points to assess it.”
The laughter started to subside a little as she made her way back to the double doors of the conference room corridor. Even Paige was giggling, realizing why her attempt at a fashion intervention was so misplaced, and badly received.
The seriousness of the news report hadn’t escaped them, though. There was a certain comfort in being on a secret asteroid in the middle of nowhere, but that was only going to act as a buffer for so long.
Gaitune-67, Conference Room
The next morning, the team piled into the conference room for their team briefing, laughing and chattering. Joel took a seat on the far side of the table, and Molly placed herself at the head so she could clearly see everyone in the room. Everyone grabbed their seats, holos ready to take notes or look up intel that they needed to make good decisions about kit and upgrades.
Brock was the last one in, dancing. In one hand was his new antigrav coffee mug that had arrived the previous day with their last shipment.
“Wooot woot! Good morning, you sexy people!” he exclaimed as he side shuffled and sashayed through the door to close it behind him with his hip.
He placed his cup down and the others watched as it levitated above the table. He nonchalantly pretended not to notice their amazement.
“Okay, okay, folks. Let’s get to it,” announced Molly, drawing the meeting to a start. “I called this meeting just to get us into some semblance of routine and order… and to keep each of us abreast of the different things we’re all working on.”
The room settled down, giving their leader their full attention.
“I think the first thing that is worth us getting clear on is why we’re here and what kind of cases we’re going to be working on together. Then, I’d like us all to give an update on what we’ve been working on, since someone who isn’t myself or Joel wouldn’t necessarily know about that.”
She looked around the table, making sure to connect with her team. She’d never admit it to Joel, but she’d had Oz download some leadership instructional material about how to make everyone on the team feel included. This meeting was an opportunity to test out some of those tactics.
She continued her overview. “And then I’d like Joel to say a few words about operations training, and the kinds of cases we’ve pitched for, so we know what might be coming up on the horizon.”
She paused looking around the table, and giving everyone a chance to take in what she was suggesting. Everyone nodded, and seemed happy.
So far, so good.
Told you a bit of instruction would help.
Not now, smart arse. Concentrating.
“Okay, great. So, as you know, we’re here to fight the good fight. We all have had experiences in the past that have brought us here, to this point where we don’t want to just sit back and let the bad guys get away with using and exploiting the people who haven’t got a voice, and can’t defend themselves. We’re here to fix that, case by case, knocking out as many of their motherfucking proverbial kneecaps as we can.”
The group let out a collective chuckle.
“So, in order to do that, we need to build out the team and infrastructure to take on the more sophisticated jobs. Joel and I have been looking into the kind of cases that we can pitch for, and honestly, right now, it’s slim pickings because of our small size. However, if we scale up our operation, we will be better positioned to take on the jobs, and deliver the standards I know we all aspire to.”
Brock agreed, bouncing his antigrav mug on the table. “Hear, hear!”
“So what does this mean for us right now?” Molly continued. “Well,” she turned to Crash and then to Brock. “We’re going to need faster transportation. A lot of these jobs are between the inner and outer systems… and beyond. If we want to compete and prove our competence, we need to be developing the tech to do this faster and more efficiently than anyone else. I want you guys to put together some ideas of how we could do that, if you had a budget that, effectively, was limitless.
Brock’s eyes lit up.
Crash remained characteristically cool. “You got it, boss.”
“I’d like to review your initial ideas later on today, please.”
The pair looked at each other. Crash shrugged. Brock nodded. “Sure thing.”
“We also need to be able to defend ourselves, so that means the bird needs fitting with weapons. So if we can have a list of recommendations and rough costs, that would be good, as well.”
Crash made a note on his holo.
“Paige,” Molly announced, reeling through the list of items she was holding in her mind. “Paige has been doing a brilliant job of getting kit ordered, and making this place more like a home and an operations base. Paige is our go-to liaison for everything. Whether it’s kit, communications, or any miscellaneous problem, Paige is your contact. And she operates with my authority, so if she comes to you with instructions, it’s because I’ve asked her to, or she’s run something by me. Clear?”
Everyone nodded.
Paige was swinging in her swivel chair, grinning from ear to ear, as if she was the little sister of the family and had just been given absolute power.
To remind her who they were, Crash lobbed a screwed up piece of paper he’d been fiddling with, and it caught in her hair. The boys chuckled as she flapped about, trying to find where it had gone.
Joel also added his reaction to qualify Molly’s statement. “But only I have authority to issue press ups as training correction, though.”
The group groaned.
Molly waited for them to settle and turn their attention back to her before continuing.
“Joel is our ops leader. He’s in charge out in the field, and is responsible for your safety out there. You don’t sneeze unless he says so when you’re on an op. And to that end, everyone needs to go through some basic training.”
She looked at Brock and Paige. “Now, while you guys aren’t here in a field op capacity, the reality is, even on this base, you’re going to be in situations where you’re under pressure to perform. This may mean needing to know how to fire a weapon, or keep yourself safe, but it may even mean simply being able to communicate efficiently while your teammates are under pressure. Joel has immense experience in training people to do this, to ensure that lives aren’t lost. Over the next few weeks, he’ll be putting together a training program for all personnel. Including those who will join us in the future, she added.
And to that end, she turned to Joel. “We’ll need a list of personnel we need to recruit and get on board in order to take on the kinds of jobs we’re currently pitching for, so if we could look at your suggestions by the end of the day, that would be super, too.”
Joel nodded, making a note on his holo device, as if he couldn’t remember that task.
“Okay, that’s pretty much it. Any questions?”
No one raised anything else, so Molly moved on.
“Okay, Joel - you want to give us an idea of the kinds of cases we’re shooting for?”
“Sure.” Joel sat up straighter, and started addressing the group. Thirty seconds hadn’t passed before he had a screenshot of the new case system on the conference room holo, flicking through and showing the team all the possible jobs they could take. The boys were certainly more excited about the database than either Molly or Paige, but then, that showed they were engaged with that element of the job, too.
Molly watched them, pleased at how they were not just bonding with each other, but bonding with the mission.
After Joel had finished, they took a few questions, then sent the team off to get cracking.
Joel closed down his holo. “That went well,” he remarked.
“Yeah. It’s great how they’re all on board.” Molly paused, wondering whether she should broach the subject right now. She decided to just say it.
“I think in the new wave of recruits we need another computer person.”
Joel looked at her, curiously. “I thought between you and Oz you had that angle covered?”
She scratched her cheek. “Well, yes and no. If it were just a matter of skill, of course; but it’s not. For a start, if I’m going to lead this team as we’ve talked about, I haven’t got the physical time and head space to be coding, and hacking and whatever other fuckery we need to get embroiled in.” She paused, and Joel nodded his understanding.
“That’s first. Secondly, we need someone who isn’t crippled.”
“What do you mean ‘crippled’?” he asked, turning his head slightly as if he didn’t hear her properly.
“You know. Crippled. Like, Oz can’t do certain things because of his ‘rules’.” She waved her two fingers in each hand to emphasize the quotation marks she was putting around the word “rules”.
I’m not fucking crippled!
You are. And it is getting in our way.
Joel leaned back in his chair. Molly watched as a smile spread over his face.
“You want a computer person who will operate more like you, and less like Oz?” His smile was a mile wide at this point.
“Not exactly. I want someone who can make those judgment calls like a person would. And will do what is necessary when lives are in danger. I need someone with that kind of humanity.”
Well, fuck you.
Shut up, Oz, this isn’t about being the best. It’s about forming a team.
“And what does Oz think about all this?” Joel asked, almost smirking now.
“The little bitch doesn’t like it. But it’s the way forward.”
“I’d be inclined to agree. On both counts.” Joel sat up in his chair. “Okay, lemme see what I can do. There’s no doubt that the tech element is a huge part of any operation, no matter which cases we take. Plus, if we’re going to scale, this area is only going to need more manpower, not less.”
“Thanks,” smiled Molly, even though she was feeling like she’d kind of just replaced everything that was special about her.
It’s just a feeling. And it’s necessary. It will pass. She told herself.
Yeah, and what about how I feel?
You remember you gave me that 4077?
Of course. It was necessary. Why do you bring that up?
Payback is a bitch.
Oz went quiet. Molly got up and left the room.
Chapter 4
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Common Area
Later that day, Paige and Molly were in the common area. The downloaded news reports were playing in the background.
Paige had found Neechie wandering around, and decided she wanted to pet him - regardless of what he wanted. She wrestled with him to keep him on her lap as she sat on the sofa next to Molly. “Why won’t you sit still and let me huggle you?” she scolded.
“He looks like he wants to get down,” Molly said flatly, barely taking her eyes off the holo screen.
“I know, but he’s just too cute.” She ruffled his bare skin gently with her fingers, as he recoiled a little, trying to get down off her knee. “I just want to cuddle him, and fuss over him…”
Molly chatted almost absently, “And he wants to be out catching mice, or space cadets, or whatever the heck those creatures do.”
Neechie had made one effective wriggle and escaped momentarily to the floor before Paige lunged and picked him up again. She was now rubbing her nose on his.
Neechie, in his infinite wisdom, submitted and let her, almost as if he knew that playing along was the only way he was going to be released from the incessant smothering.
“Maybe,” Paige agreed. “But it’s safer for him in here.”
Molly was still watching the news. “I’m sure he’s out most of the time anyway,” she remarked distractedly, barely paying attention to the snuggling, or her own thought process.
“Yeah. I’ve noticed that,” Paige paused, her hands still on his furless body for a moment. She frowned. “And I haven’t figured out how he gets in and out. I mean, aren’t these buildings meant to be sealed?”
Molly’s attention on the screen broke. She glanced over at the sphinx. “Yeah, on account of the atmosphere being abrasive. Apart from anything it keeps the dust out. And we’re covered for any kind of passing meteor shower or whatever.”
Paige look thoughtful for a moment. “So, then, how does he get out? And back in again?”
Molly shrugged and looked back at the screen, reading the subtitles she had missed.
Paige piped up again. “You know, it could be that he’s tapped into that dimensional transit stuff we were talking about the other week.”
Molly looked back at her, ready to give her shit over stuff she’d already confessed to not being into. “You mean, the demons?”
Paige nodded, ignoring the mocking look that Molly was starting with. “Exactly. He may be able to shift and move through these other dimensions to different points in space in this one.”
Molly stood up a little and tucked one leg under her, shifting her body away from Paige and the demon sphinx.
Paige recognized the movement as a thinly veiled attempt to move away from them. “It’s okay,” she told Molly. “It’s not as creepy as it sounds. It’s just a skill set… like you can hack through a firewall. Neetch can just pass through a concrete one.”
Molly wasn’t convinced, but her curiosity outweighed the creep-factor she was experiencing. “Okay,” she said slowly. “Tell me more…”
Paige and Molly talked a while about some of the exercises her grandmother used to have her do. They even had a little practice, until Molly’s eye was caught by a news report.
She swiped at the large screen to turn up the sound. “Hang on,” she told Paige. “Look!” she indicated to the screen.
“Outbreaks of violence?” Paige read across the bottom of the screen. “It looks like footage from a holo device, like someone was just in a mocha shop and happened to catch it.”
Molly grunted her agreement, as she watched it unfold. “Wonder why that’s on the news,” she mused.
Paige started to shrug, before realizing. “Ah, looks like there have been a few similar ones across the city.” She looked across at Molly. “Why, your Grindle-senses tingling?”
She grinned.
Molly smiled. “Not sure,” she said. “It might be nothing.” A few moments passed and then she peeled her eyes away from the holo.
“So, these practices… you think that if I start just meditating and becoming aware of the field, I’ll be on my way to mastering this realm thing.”
Paige giggled at her practical assessment of everything she’d been describing to her about the rituals and practices. “Yeah; it’s the first step, so sure.”
“Ace!” exclaimed Molly brightly. “I can’t believe there was this whole other world of physics that I’d somehow missed.”
Molly, I’ve been researching some of these practices Paige has been referring to.
Oh, good. Do we have another manual to study, then?
Ugh, no.
Flashcards maybe?
No. I was about to point out that this is unlikely to be something you can just master in a few sessions. These people take a whole lifetime to learn and practice, in order to finally ascend once. That isn’t even stepping into and out of the etheric like you’re trying to do.
Molly paused for a moment. Oz could feel her pushing him out of her circuits a little.
Molly?
Yeah. I just don’t think they’ve optimized this shit.
Safe house, Gaitune-67, Conference room
Molly breezed past Joel as he came into the kitchen. “Morning!” she said, uncharacteristically brightly for pre-caffeination.
“Bloody hell, you’re up early!” Joel called after her, noticing she had only her first mocha in her hand.
Molly called back, “Done sleeping.” Then she was gone.
Crash commented from the kitchen, “Joel, it’s past 11:00.”
Joel ambled in to talk to him. “Yeah, hence the early comment. She’s never up and showered and working before midday, unless we’re on a mission.”
Molly had disappeared through the common area and off into the conference room down the hall.
She pushed her way through the conference room door, carefully so as not to slop the mocha.
Molly, the download of news and messages from our private server is here.
Great, let’s take a look at it on the main holo.
She picked her spot while Oz fired up the holo screens. Carefully, she placed the mocha mug onto the table, then surveyed the nearby swivel chairs to identify her favorite - despite the fact they were all identical.
There’s a message from Garet.
Okay, let’s watch that first.
Molly walked back over to the door, making sure that there was no one loitering in the corridor, and closed it gently. Then she went back to the chair now designated her favorite and sat down.
She looked up at the image of Garet that filled the screen. He looked pretty much the same as when they had left him back on Estaria, though he was now wearing distinctly more hair gel.
Okay, play.
“Molly, hi. Greetings of the day upon you.” Garet glanced furtively around his office, off camera, like he was checking he wasn’t being watched.
He continued. “Look, I can’t really talk, but I wanted to let you know that the police have closed the case on Paige. She’s free to return whenever she wants.”
Molly smiled. That was good news. She wondered briefly if Paige would want to go back, though. She felt a pang in her chest, but the message kept playing, like she was watching a movie.
“In other news…” Garet continued, “I made Senator!” He grinned. Despite the fact he was proud, there was genuineness behind his pride. “It’s a great opportunity to serve the people. When they’ll let me. But we knew this would be the gig when I came back. So, you’ll probably hear it all over the news when you get your downloads, but I wanted you to hear it from me first.”
He looked down and seemed to play with something on his desk, thinking. Molly wondered if he was going to share something else, or if there was something wrong. She couldn’t tell.
“Okay. That’s all I’ve got. Looking forward to seeing you all soon. Tell Paige I say hi. And stay safe.”
The image clicked out and the holo frame, now blank, faded.
Looks like he got everything he wanted.
Seems so.
Keep an eye on what you can, Oz. I know he’s still in danger, and anything we can see coming - shifts in political landscape, news on the wire, chatter, whatever - might give us an edge to help him stay safe. And let’s get that message over to Joel. He has a sixth sense about people’s emotions.
Roger that, boss.
Okay, let’s look at a couple of the headlines then.
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Common Area
Two news bulletins later, Joel wandered into the conference room. Closing the door behind him, he watched the tail end of the last report.
“All okay down in the Central Systems?” he asked.
Molly leaned back in her chair and turned to look at him. “Violence, corruption, and general fuckery. Yep, all seems to be business as usual.”
Joel rolled his eyes. “Oh, I got your Garet message, by the way, through Oz.” He looked around the conference room but kept talking. “I agree. Something’s going down, but it looks like he can’t discuss it.”
Molly nodded. “Yeah, I thought as much. Oz is keeping an eye out for anything we should be aware of. Patterns. Related incidents. Yadda yadda.”
Joel pulled up a seat. He was about to sit, when he took a look around Molly, checking behind her… on her back for something.
“Oi! What you doing, fuck wit?” she asked playfully, swinging round in her chair to try and see what he was looking for.
Joel’s face was straight. “Just checking your chair.” He paused, and sat on the one he’d pulled up. “I think you’ve got my favorite one.”
Molly frowned with one eye. “Dude, they’re all the same.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said.
Molly waited for an explanation. Joel crossed an ankle over his leg and leaned back into the chair, his expression still neutral.
No explanation came.
“So what’s up?” she asked, trying to get back to business.
Joel did a tiny shake of his head, as if remembering why he was here. “Well,” he started, “I was just talking with Crash and Brock. They think we need to name the ship.”
Molly blinked, then blinked again. “Okay.”
Joel continued. “They want you to choose something so they don’t have to keep calling it XC-whatever whatever.”
Molly shrugged. “So name it.”
Joel looked at her, a little frustrated that she wasn’t understanding the enormity of naming a vehicle. “You should be the one to name it,” he explained to her.
Molly blinked again, completely confused by her involvement in the conversation. “Okay,” she said slowly. “I hereby name it ‘XC-094B’.”
Joel exhaled with a chuckle. “You… you really don’t get it do you? This should be something with some meaning. Where’s your sense of… Ugh.”
Molly looked confused for a second. “Hang on. Is this a dick thing?”
“A what what?” Joel’s eyes flew wide open and his head recoiled back in shock.
“You know. How boys treat their ships like penis extensions and give them pet names like…” she started to ask, oblivious to Joel making a face.
Joel waved both hands out in front of him. “No. No. Ancestors, no.” He tried desperately to compose himself. “Why would you think such a thing?” he asked in horror.
“Boys. Toys… Not a massive leap.” Molly said flatly. Then she smiled, and her eyes showed signs of recognition. “Ah, is this one of those human things you want me to emotionally engage with?”
Joel nodded, pointing to her. “Yes! Correct!” He breathed a sigh of relief, off the hook for the cock naming.
Molly giggled, her inner teenager coming out to play. “Ahhhh, well why didn’t you say so?” She slapped at her leg. “Okay, let’s call it the Tardis.”
“The what now?” he asked, confused.
“The T.A.R.D.I.S. Time And Relative Dimension In Space,” she explained, as it was clearly something any self-respecting space cadet should know.
Joel’s brow wrinkled a little in confusion. “You’re referencing one of those TV shows from the old world, aren’t you?”
“Technically, the Pan Galaxy is waaay newer than the loop, but the chronology of the relative civilizations would suggest ‘old’ is an appropriate adjective here.” Molly paused. “You’re not into sci-fi are you?”
Joel’s eyes fixed on her in disbelief. He shook his head. “Try something else. This isn’t a time machine.”
“Oo,” her eyes lit up. “If it were, we could name it the H.G. Wells!”
Joel lowered his head into one hand, one elbow on the desk. As he looked up again, he wiped his face with his palm. When his face reappeared, he looked a little… broken.
“Something else?” he prompted her.
“Firefly?” she suggested.
Joel shook his head. “They’ve already been through that.”
“Millennium Falcon?” she tried again.
“Nope. Just nope,” he said.
“You know… from that Star Wars stuff. You know… the long episodes, set in space.”
“Cuz that narrows it down,” he said with barely the will left to raise his eyes to the heavens.
Molly sat like stone for a moment.
Joel slowly shook his head. “Has anyone ever suggested to you the words ‘misspent youth’?”
She smiled a broad smile. “Often. You know, if Brock has time on his hands, maybe we should get him to see if he can reverse engineer that antigrav mug of his, and create conference room chairs that don’t need contact with the floor.”
She swiveled her chair back to her screen.
Joel tried not to smile at her dismissal of the naming task. “How about I bounce this naming thing back to the boys and let them decide? Then you can okay it.”
Molly was already swiping through other reports in the data package. “Sure.” She smiled mischievously, without looking away from her screens. “Or we could just go with the Tardis.”
Joel realized the conversation had reached its climax. With the look of a defeated man, he rose from his non-favorite chair, and ambled back out of the room again.
Thank to fokk my ancestors she’s not my girlfriend, he thought, as he released himself to go deal with more pressing matters.
Chapter 5
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Workshop
Brock and Crash were sitting at the bench, holos active and mochas in hand. In front of them, they had synched their holos to play a game of psychic chess in three dimensions.
“Well, chap, quantum teleportation is theoretically one way forward.” Crash peered over his antigrav mug as he took a swig of life-sustaining mocha. He changed a thought and moved a pawn down a level.
“But…” Brock pressed.
“Well, there have been strides in the lab, but there is something about destroying the original only to replicate it elsewhere, which just gives me the willies.” He shuddered for effect.
It was Brock’s move, and he was fixated on a cluster of mid-value pieces that Crash had surrounded. He paused, thinking through a couple of scenarios as Crash lilted on about teleportation.
Crash had placed his antigrav mug on the table, but it was oscillating around its center of mass and slowly ebbing towards the edge of the table. Crash let it, curious to see what it would do. “Yeah, plus the science is barely there. I don’t think it’s at engineering stage yet. Certainly not for us to just dip in and build it.”
Brock sighed as a distant look appeared in his eye. “True, but a brother can dream…”
Crash wrinkled his nose a little. “You know, we should probably be looking at the fastest transportation in the system. Right now, that’s fusion powered hyper drive.”
Alertness returned to Brock’s eyes. “Yeah. That’s probably the most sensible idea.” He seemed to have made up his mind for his move and was trying to hit the right thought to move the correct piece. “Might take a bit of research, though.”
“Yes, and it can be something we work on in the background.” Crash looked back down at the holo list he had made from the meeting earlier that day before continuing. “Okay, let’s look at that later. I think we need to put together a realistic list of the weaponry we can fit this bird with. That’ll be what Molly will be checking up on first.”
Brock’s knight hopped two spaces forward and up one level. A look of mild relief spread across his face. “Well, it would have had blasters on the sides originally, but they’ve been removed.”
Crash nodded. “Right. I think that was something to do with Central System regs about 20 years ago. The military didn’t want private ships to have weaponry in case they were somehow used against them.” He moved his queen from the top tier all the way down to the bottom on the other side of the board.
Brock cringed.
Returning his attention to the conversation, “How do you know all this shit?”
Crash blushed a little. “Ah, you know… It’s… it’s my job to know…”
“Nah uh,” Brock told him, wagging his finger from side to side. “Not many pilots I know keep tabs on all this kinda thing. And the history stuff. Like with the insignia Paige found. No one else had any idea about that… but you did.” He moved another piece.
Crash pretended to be suddenly absorbed in his next move. “Well, you know. Military history and stuff runs in the family. It was just something my grandfather would use to keep me from spending too much time on the holo.”
He got up from his seat, as if needing to change position. “So, getting hold of the original weapons might be a bitch. Especially if those regs are still active.”
Brock allowed him to change the subject. “Yeah. I wonder what might be happening in other systems. You know, if they don’t have the same regs, I’m sure we could adapt something.”
Crash’s voice became more excited, as his eyes lit up and he found a page in his holo that had specs. “Yeah, those Yollins are pretty together when it comes to space tech. I wonder if there is a way we can get Oz to patch in and help us locate something useful.”
Brock lit up too, the chess game forgotten. “You mean just order them up on the Zon?”
The two looked at each other. “Time to talk to Molly,” they said in unison.
“What about Molly?” Joel asked, stomping down the last step.
As he stepped into the workshop the chess set collapsed in a cascade of pixels and disappeared, leaving Crash and Brock looking exactly like they’d been caught red-handed playing games on the job.
“We need her to ask Oz to run some research for us,” Crash replied, cool as anything, turning to look at Joel as he approached the workbench.
Joel nodded. “Ah, yes. That’ll be no problem. But regarding the naming… I have bad news.” He stopped in the middle of the floor, as if he wasn’t staying.
Brock braced himself. Crash didn’t flinch.
Joel paused for effect, before telling them, “You’re on your own. She was about as useful as a chocolate fireguard.”
Brock sniggered.
Crash smiled, mostly at Brock’s snigger. “So what does this mean?” he asked. “We just pick something?”
Joel nodded again. “Yup. Pick something appropriate, and then run it by her.”
“Well, okay, then.” Crash nodded in acceptance of the mission.
Joel nodded abruptly once, as he might have done to an officer in the space marines, and then turned on his heels and left.
Brock was still chuckling to himself. “Looks like we’re on our own on that one, then!”
“Looks like,” Crash agreed.
Brock picked up his antigrav mug to take another swig of mocha. “I still think there’s something going on with those two…” He pointed his forefinger in the direction of the door as he drank from the mug, his eyes dancing with glee at the prospect of people falling in love and getting bow-chica-wow-wow on base.
Crash smiled, but his voice was firm. “Don’t you go stirring anything up. There’s a reason the military forbids that kinda thing between teammates.”
“Yeah, but we ain’t in the military now…” Brock’s eyes were still smiling, as he returned to his holo to work.
“I’m just sayin’,” Crash told him. “There’s a reason for it.”
Joel had stopped on the stairs, listening to the banter between the pair in the workshop. Damn, he thought. He was going to have to be more careful. Brock must have picked up on something.
Quietly, he continued his way up the stairs so as not to draw their attention.
Ventus Research Facility, downtown Spire
“We’re going to have to call her.”
Managing Director Dr. Carl Knotts swiped holo screens across the table to his colleague: some detailed reports their street team had gathered. The situation had worsened in the last few hours.
He rubbed his eyes, and pushed back his chair from the conference table.
His colleague was unmoved. “Not yet,” Piles insisted. “Simons says he’s probably just 16 hours away from an antidote.”
“He’s been saying that and similar for months. Before this was even a… situation.” Knotts chose his words carefully, even though his body language was weighted with guilt. He stood up and stretched his back out. His Estarian skin was graying from the stress, and from being cooped up for hours at a stretch trying to solve the growing crisis.
He looked over at his partner who, though tired, was maintaining his posture, eyes staring into the table.
“It was a side project then,” Piles reasoned. “Now he’s got the whole team on it - and nothing else.”
They were the only ones in the meeting area. Everyone else had either gone home, or was working overtime in the labs.
Dr. Knotts shook his head again. “I don’t know. I think we need to consider bringing the Bates girl in now.”
Piles banged his hand on the table, causing Knotts to jump out of his skin. “We’ve talked about this,” Piles reiterated, the frustration seeping into his voice. “That in itself has a downside. We’ll all be leaving ourselves vulnerable for prosecution.”
Dr. Knotts protested, emotion welling in his voice. “Yes, but if that is the cost of getting this under control and saving hundreds of thousands of lives, then-”
His voice trailed off as his eye caught the holo screen with the live news reports. The media was now noting the escalated levels of violence in areas that were affected.
He sighed the sigh of a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. After a moment he turned back to his partner.
Knotts had to do something now. Managing Director or no, he was an Estarian and a scientist. “Okay. Make the call,” he told Piles. His shoulders slumped a little as he relented. “But if we can keep some of the details from her, then we should. Just bring her in for the antidote, and tell her as little as possible about everything else.”
Knotts nodded. “Right. Fungus-amongus technique.”
Piles looked at him questioningly.
Knotts got up and walked to the door. “Keep ‘em in the dark, and feed them shit.”
Piles shook his head, closing his eyes briefly.
“Oh, and Carl,” Knotts turned back to look at Piles, waiting for the question. “You’ll be handling this yourself, of course?”
“Yes, of course,” he confirmed. “You stay out of it, though. We don’t want her to be able to nail all our balls to this.”
Piles nodded appreciatively.
Knotts stepped out into the corridor. Considering Piles often came across similar to his namesake, an infliction on the lining of an asshole, he was still his friend.
“Plus,” he called back. “It would be prudent that one of us stays out of this mess to pick up the pieces… after it all blows to shit.”
The sliding doors closed, leaving the conference room quiet.
Piles sat back in his ergonomically designed chair, feeling like he was going to dodge a bullet after all.
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Conference Room
Molly was sitting on the table in the conference room, legs crossed in a yogi position. Though her eyes were closed and her back was to the door to avoid distractions, the frown across her forehead and her slightly squinted eyes said it all to anyone watching.
This lady was not enjoying the transcendental experience of becoming one with the veil.
Joel walked past the conference room door and saw a figure on the table out of the corner of his eye. Having already passed the door, he took a step backwards.
And then another.
And another, to peer inside.
He saw it was Molly.
Nope, he thought to himself, and willed himself away from the door handle. I’m not going to ask.
He took a couple of paces forward.
No, I’m not going to ask, he told himself again.
He took a step forward.
He stopped. And then backed up again.
He paused.
Oh, fuck it.
He turned back and opened the door into the conference room. The sound of the opening door caused Molly to spin around suddenly. Her scowl accused him of a thousand sins.
Joel couldn’t help but smile. “So you’re, erm… meditating now?” One mocking eyebrow rose as he looked at her.
“Yes. And you’re disturbing my zi,” she snapped.
“Now, now, we both know your zi was zipped long before I disturbed it,” he grinned. “So why, pray tell, are you suddenly meditating? I didn’t think you were into all that realm stuff?”
“I’m trying something new,” she said, eyeing him up and down.
Damn, she has a way of making a guy feel self-conscious, he realized. Did she mean that he didn’t try anything new? He wondered. Shit. How, in one sentence, did this become about himself and his lack of aspirations? Joel, get a grip! he instructed himself.
Joel paused, then his face lit up. “Oh, my ancestors! You’re trying to dimension walk!” It made sense now. For a second he thought she was going after inner peace. “Like those creepy things in the basement!”
“I’m not,” she protested, looking a little awkward in her skin. “I’m just trying to understand what all this realm stuff is about.”
“You’re not!” Joel wagged his finger. “I’m onto you, Bates. You never do anything without a direct reason for it.” He was grinning like a Cheshire cat now, on the offensive in the teasing. “You’re trying to figure it out so you can reverse engineer it… aren’t you?”
She blushed, and knocked a strand of hair out of her face.
Molly had nowhere to go. Joel was onto her. And she was floored by how easily he could get a read on her.
“So what if I am?” she admitted reluctantly.
“Interesting,” he cooed.
And with that, he turned on his heels, and left the room, closing the door behind him.
Molly watched him go, frustrated by her own mental unquiet, as well as by the way he understood her better than she did herself.
The stray hair fell down in her face again, and she blew upwards to move it, with very little lasting result.
Chapter 6
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Gym
Molly released the weights she was bench-pressing, and they crashed back onto the rack. Paige jumped back, barely suppressing a girly squeal.
Crash looked over in amusement, which quickly turned to respect when he noticed the weight she’d just dropped.
“Looks like you’re making progress on that thing!” he called over.
“Thanks!” she breathed. His beating of the punching bag had kept her psychologically motivated, but now that he had finished his cardio and was about to leave, she suddenly felt more fatigued.
“You done?” she asked him, a hint of disappointment creeping into her voice.
“Yeah. Gonna hit the showers.” He waved to the two girls as he headed out of their basement gym.
Paige smiled at Molly. “You have been increasing the weight you’re pressing quite a lot each time. He’s right. You got this.”
“You make a great cheerleader,” Molly told her affectionately.
Paige clutched both her hands together awkwardly and to her chest. “Aww…” she cooed, her manner almost matching the pink cardigan she was sporting.
Molly got up from the bench. “Want me to spot you?” she asked, taking a drink of water.
Paige’s face turned from one of a beaming angel to that of a panicked damsel. “Oh. No. No thanks. I’ll break a nail or something.”
Molly chuckled. “You know you don’t need to be afraid of the weights. It’s just good for resistance training.”
“No. I’m good. Thank you. I’ll stick with those other machines for resistance and cardio in one.” Paige waved her hand over to the array of other machines that Crash and Brock had ordered up and then installed over the last few weeks.
The ones she had not even attempted to mount, nor seriously had any intention of using.
“Okay,” shrugged Molly brightly. She knew Paige was taking her training seriously in other ways, and as long as she stayed in shape for the missions, how she did it was entirely up to her.
“Yo!” Joel popped his head around the corner. “Not to interrupt your gossiping,” he paused, contemplating teasing them about how they always seemed to be talking rather than working out in the gym, “but we have a case.”
Paige and Molly exchanged glances.
“Someone has asked for you specifically,” he told her.
Molly looked behind her and then pointed at herself. “Huh? Me?”
“Yep. By name.” Joel looked just as surprised as Molly as he explained to her. “Something about you being the ‘foremost expert’ on some gene shit. I have the details upstairs when you’re ready.”
Molly looked at Paige and shrugged. She went to sit down on the bench again.
Paige grinned at how unaffected she was by the accolade. I wonder if she’s on the spectrum, she thought to herself idly.
“Looks like there is big money in it,” Joel coaxed.
“Uh huh.” Molly had lain down to do another set. Paige stood in position again to spot her.
He tried again. “It’s dangerous.”
Molly had her hands on the bar and was about to lift, but she stopped in her tracks.
“And without you, thousands of people are probably going to die,” he finished.
He’s got you.
Shut up, Oz.
Girl, he can play you like a -
Shut UP.
Seriously. It’s like he OWNS you.
OZ!!!!! SHUT THE FUCK UP OR I’M FORMATTING YOU.
Her head went quiet.
She paused, her eyes locked onto the bar, as if her mind were processing something else. Then after a moment, she released her hands, and sat up.
“Okay. Lemme hit the showers and eat, and I’ll be right up.”
“I think it’s really urgent,” Joel was in ops mode, now he had confirmation they were taking the case.
Paige jumped in to help. “You shower and get up to the conference room, and I’ll have a protein shake and Stim drink waiting for you.”
“Wow!” Molly was impressed. “Okay, sweet. I could totally get used to this.”
She swung her towel over her shoulder and, downing her water, paced out of the gym to go and get herself ops-ready.
Joel gave Paige a thumbs-up and headed back up to the conference room.
Paige smiled to herself.
She didn’t care that it was just a protein shake… She was part of something bigger and way more meaningful than her job on Estaria. And besides, if she could keep training and prove herself as a core member of this team, maybe they’d trust her with more than just the purchasing and the sports drinks. She smiled to herself as she tidied a few pieces of equipment away, and then made her way up to the kitchen.
Life on Gaitune-67 was so very, very goooooood!
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Conference room
“Yo! I. Is. Here!” Brock announced his arrival, his beloved antigrav flask in hand as he closed the door and took a seat at the table where the rest of the team was assembled.
“Okay, great. Let’s get started.” Molly clasped her hands together over the quieting chatter, her arms resting on the desk. “We’ve got a case.” She paused, and looked over at Joel. “On the surface, it seems like an R&D job for myself; but what we’ve already realized in our communications with the client is that actually it’s high stakes.”
There was a hush; she had their rapt attention.
“The client has had a vial of toxin stolen. A toxin that would render the entire city of Spire sick, and then very dead. The death rate will be 88% if we don’t intervene with an antidote.”
She looked over at Brock and Crash. “We’re going to have to get our arses down to the client’s lab to pick up samples and confer with their team of scientists to figure out exactly what we’re dealing with.” She turned to look at the rest of them. “But the reality is they’ve violated the Billingham Convention by developing this in the first place. So this could bring all kinds of heat down on them - and us - if anyone outside this team were to get wind of what is happening. This means discretion is of the utmost importance.”
“Yeah, Crash,” started Brock, leaning over and nudging the arm of his teammate. “So that means no telling your mom in your vlogs!”
Crash smiled without humor. “Yeah, and no announcing it on your geek-boards, dickwad.”
Molly looked at them sternly. “I’m serious, fellas. Unless you want me to rain violence down on you.”
Paige chipped in. “Yeah, and she’s bench pressing more than Brock right now!” She all but stuck her tongue out at the boys as she spoke.
Brock dropped his eyes. ”Yes, ma’am.”
“Honestly,” said Crash in his usual unemotional manner, “we have very little contact with the outside would. I don’t know who any of us could tell.”
Crash is forgetting his late night chats with Chantelle.
Hmm, chats? So a local?
Yes.
Anything else I need to know?
Not at this time.
Thanks, Oz.
“Who’s Chantelle?” Molly asked Crash.
He blushed, taking her point, and dropping his eyes.
“Well, okay then,” she said, eyes slightly wider than normal, backing away from the subject. She shook her head clear of the thoughts that had materialized in her brain. “Time is of the essence,” she continued, “and we’ve not done an op together before… so we’re going to be figuring it out as we go along.”
She nodded to Joel, who took over.
“The client, Ventus Research, have had two scientists go missing. Finding them is not our mandate. But we need to be aware that there may be law enforcement poking around. Our job is to get down there, get the intel we need, get samples of the toxin, get back, and develop the antidote.”
Molly said, “Joel will be staying on the surface to help with deploying the antidote once we’ve got it sequenced…”
Joel interjected “… yeah, and I’ll also be interviewing a new team member. Just FYI. It’s not important to the mission, so if we need to drop that meeting, that’s okay.”
Molly scanned around the table observing her very quiet team. “Any questions so far?” she asked.
There was a pause, and then Crash spoke, looking more or less recovered from being outed for having a “friend”.
“When do you want to leave?” he asked, the glint in his eye revealing that he was ready to be flying again.
“As soon as we can,” she responded. “When can you have us lifting off?”
“Couple of hours. Max.”
“Okay, make it so,” she said, nodding to him. “Two hours, people,” she announced to the group.
“Hang on,” Joel raised his hand at shoulder height to signal to the troops not to move. “I think it’s worth looping them in on why we have this case. It may become important.”
Molly paused, reluctant to share. Sensing her hesitation, Joel continued.
“Okay. So, Molly was requested specifically because she is the person in the Central System who is uniquely qualified to handle this task. Molly wrote her thesis on exactly the toxin that we’re going to be tackling, so she is the one best equipped to develop the antidote.”
Molly’s head was bowed and Paige could see a little section where her chest was exposed turn a deep red.
The team gave a mini round of applause.
Joel kept talking. “I, for one, wanted you to know who your boss is.” He paused and looked at Molly again, before turning back to the team. “But also - stay alert. This may be relevant. I don’t want to be paranoid, but better paranoid and safe. This toxin may be a way to pull us out of hiding. Do I think we’ve caused certain powers enough of a problem for them to go to such lengths? No. Not yet. And there would be easier ways to draw us out. But there is no such thing as a coincidence; not in this game, and not with these stakes. So keep your eyes peeled, and pay attention to everything that might be remotely connected. Do we understand?”
The team made a series of yeses and yes sirs.
“Okay, great. Molly, want to tell us who is doing what?”
Molly had managed to compose herself, though her chest was still a little flushed. She cleared her throat gently before she started speaking again.
“Sure.”
She took a breath, collecting herself.
“Once we’ve got the bird prepped, I’d like Brock to man the base here. If we have any anti-toxin precautions, suits or equipment, let’s get it loaded up ASAP. The toxin is not airborne; it dissolves in water, and needs to be inhaled or ingested to be fatal, so bear that in mind. Paige, you’re with me. Joel will be coming with us to the surface, and then staying there. Crash will be flying us there, and bringing Paige and I back in quick turnaround. Stay alert, people. And stay safe.”
With that, the team was dismissed, and on their first case together. The conference room emptied out, and the base was a hive of activity for the next couple of hours.
Dead on time, Crash lifted off with the team on board. Only Brock remained in the safe house, with Neechie on hand for emotional support, should a demon actually venture forth from the creepy door in his workshop.
Spaceport, Hangar 08771A, Outskirts of Uptarlung
“Okay, folks, that’s all.” Crash announced their arrival over the PA system.
Paige let out a sigh of relief. “Finally! Back on solid earth.”
Joel leaned over, and lightly punched her arm. “You realize the asteroid is solid, right?”
Paige looked indignant. “No, it’s not. Brock told me it was empty inside. That’s why we need the gravity generator.”
Molly looked back at the rows where Joel and Paige had been sitting for the landing. “I think Brock has been pulling your leg,” she said plainly.
Joel slapped his thigh. “Seriously, that dude. Honestly!” he laughed.
Paige frowned, trying not to smile. “You mean this whole time, he’s been spinning me a yarn?”
Joel shook his head. “Not entirely. There is a grav generator on there, but the asteroid is solid all the way through.”
Paige humphed and started gathering her things. Molly was already standing up at her seat, packing stuff into her backpack.
Paige paused. “Do you think maybe he made up the bit about having to collect antigrav matter from the generator for his mug when it runs out?”
Joel exploded in laughter.
Molly sniggered.
“Shit,” Paige said.
Once packed up, all four of them made their way off the ship.
Molly turned to Crash as they reached the hangar door. “Okay, so are you good for a few hours?”
Crash stepped out into the open air and stretched his arms backwards. “Golden,” he told her. “I’m just going to take a nap, and then maybe wander over to air traffic control to see if we’re all still legal and everything. They have nowhere to send any fines, so if we did get blacklisted on our last exit, it’ll need some finagling to get us cleared.”
Molly nodded slowly. “Ah, our speedy exit when we were being pursued by men in black who wanted to kill us. Yes…”
Crash smiled and nodded.
“Yeah. We might need some supplies and stuff, too. I’ll check and make sure we can get things ordered up.”
Molly looked out towards the airfield, watching another ship take off silently in the distance. “Cool. Keep me posted if you need authorization for funds or anything. Or if anything is going to interfere with getting off-world… like a long delivery time.”
“Roger that, lady-boss,” Crash smiled, imitating Brock’s language.
“’Lady-boss,’” Molly said, shaking her head. “That guy…”
Paige scowled at the reference to him. Even Crash couldn’t help but crack a grin.
Joel had wandered off a few paces, stretching his legs and swinging his arms to loosen his back. He wandered back over, talking to Molly. “So, you sure you’re good to deal with the client, if I run off and meet the little dude?”
Paige looked confused. “’Little dude’? Why d’ya call him that?”
Molly shook her head again. “He’s like twenty-five or something,” she told her.
“Yeah, but he’s not little little?” Paige asked.
Molly didn’t know if she was asking about his height, or something else.
Joel was swinging his arms again. “I dunno. He could be…”
Paige suspected they might be just teasing her. She shifted her bag on her shoulder, pushed her nose in the air, and wandered absently in the direction of the main gates, as if ready to head out.
Molly watched her. “Erm. You gonna walk to the client in Spire?”
Paige clamped her hands over her mouth. “Oh! Shit. No.” She giggled, turned back, and noticed that Crash had disappeared inside again to pull the car out. “It’s another couple of hours from here, right?”
Molly nodded. ”Right. More traveling. But we should pick up food on the way.”
Joel’s eyes lit up.
“Something without dead animal on it,” she qualified.
His face fell, conveying his disappointment.
Chapter 7
Ventus Research Facility, downtown Spire
The meeting room hummed with artificial lights, and artificial air. Molly and Paige sat patiently, waiting for the client to arrive.
Ventus Research Facility was a little intimidating, Molly realized now she was here. The blue lighting, the polished floors and glass meeting rooms, the perfectly manicured receptionists, and indoor plants; she half expected the scientists to show up in tailored suits or something. As yet, though, they were a no-show.
“Wish I’d managed to get some more sleep on that trip,” Paige grumbled, fidgeting in her seat. “How many hours were we traveling for?”
Molly was slumped back in her chair, and shuffled to sit up a little more. “I think the total flight time is twenty-something hours.” She tapped a finger on the armrest. “It’s Crash I feel sorry for. He did most of the flight monitoring.”
Paige pulled one leg up, resting her heel on the edge of the seat. “Yeah. He seems happy, though.” She looked towards the door. “Do you ever get the feeling he’s more antsy when he’s on base?” She started whispering, like someone might overhear her talking about her teammate.
“Honestly, I hadn’t noticed.” Molly’s eyes drifted off, as she thought back to her experience of him. “He always seems so cool and collected.”
Paige grinned. “Ah!” she said, her eyes now lit up. “So you haven’t been watching him when he works out…”
“But you have, by the sounds of it?” Molly looked at her sideways, a slight smile at the corner of her lips.
“Can’t blame a girl,” Paige said laughing. “But yeah, he’s been getting more and more intense in his workouts. I think his flying is his outlet. You know, his happy place. Or safety valve.”
Molly made a mental note to be aware of that. “That would make sense,” she mused. She might even mention it to Joel, to see what they could do about making sure he didn’t go stir crazy on the asteroid.
It’s a good point.
What is?
Well not everyone seems to be as… self-contained as you are.
What do you mean?
Well, give you a project and a holo and you don’t move for hours at a stretch. But the others, they sit for maybe an hour and then have a conversation with someone, or change what they do.
Of course, you’re monitoring them.
Yes, and a good job too, or else I’d think that all sentient beings behave like you. You’re definitely proving to be on the extremes of the bell-curve in many ways.
Molly decided it was best not to respond to Oz’s last comment. The last thing she needed now was the distraction.
Paige started swinging her foot. Molly checked her holo to see how long they had been waiting.
Just then, there was movement in the reception area, and two figures started wending their way through the corridors to the meeting room to join them. As they approached, Molly could make out that they were both male. Both Estarian.
And both looked very fatigued and stressed.
The door swung open, and they bundled in one after another.
“Greetings of the day upon you,” said the slightly older man. “I’m Dr. Carl Knotts. We’ve been in communication. This is Dr. Eugene Philips, who has been working on the project since before the vials were stolen.” The two shook hands with both the ladies and invited them to come into a meeting room next door to sit down.
“May I offer you some mocha?” Dr. Knotts looked at each of them in turn as they entered the room.
“No, no thank you. We had plenty on the trip over here.” Molly said, noticing that Paige had also waved ‘no thank you’.
“Oh, you flew, then?” he asked.
“Yes.” Molly left it at that. She didn’t want them knowing too much about their situation needlessly.
“Okay. Right then,” Knotts started gathering his thoughts as the two men sat. “As you can imagine, the situation here is pretty fraught. We’ve had teams working on this around the clock. I’ve just sent a number of them home, since they were operating on no sleep for a day and a half now, and mistakes were being made.” He breathed in through his teeth. “We’re hoping that you are able to help.”
Molly nodded. “I understand that the toxin was developed using the same sequencing method I used when I proved that the Yultok plant could be genetically modified to make the nectar into a toxin. Is that correct?”
Eugene, despite his fatigue and the immediate danger, perked up when she mentioned the research. “Yes! Yes. And I must say, your paper is quite famous around here. We’re thrilled that you could work on this with us…” He caught himself, and noticed the concerned look on his boss’s face. “Of… of course,” he stammered, correcting himself, “we wish it were under better circumstances.”
Molly nodded politely. “So you followed the exact method?”
“Yes,” Eugene continued. “For the most part, anyway. Equipment has moved on somewhat since you published that paper, and we took advantage of newer technology. But more importantly, once we saw that it worked for one sequence, we experimented with switching pieces of the code around… just to see what happened.”
Molly’s face dropped, but she remained quiet.
Both Knotts and Philips noticed, and looked at each other.
“What?” Knotts asked eventually. “There’s something wrong?”
Molly took a breath, and leaned forward on the table. “You could say that.”
Paige felt a knot in her stomach. She sensed that this was more serious.
“Do you know which sequence could be out there?” Molly asked.
“Erm.” Knotts and Eugene exchanged glances again.
Molly waited. If they wanted her to fix it, they were going to have to tell her.
There were mutterings, and “um”s and “ah”s. And then a bunch of non-committal statements.
Finally Molly broke. “Look. I’m here to help. But in order for me to save your collective asses, and potentially the population of Spire that you’ve put in grave danger, I need to know what the FUCK is going on!”
The meeting room fell silent.
Eugene shifted awkwardly in his chair and avoided eye contact with anyone.
Finally, Knotts spoke.
“The strain that got out isn’t out as a result of user error. A number of strains of the toxin were put into one vial, extracted from the secure unit in the lab, and likely stolen. As in, walked out of the doors by one of our scientists. So we have two researchers who have disappeared, and an unknown number of strains of this toxin that could be being used to cause any number of problems.”
Molly considered what she had heard for a moment. She was in ops mode, though, just as she’d learned from Joel. There was no time for disbelief or judgement. She needed the facts.
“Multiple strains in one vial?” she confirmed.
The two scientists nodded.
“Do we know why?” she asked.
Both shook their heads.
“Any ransom demands?”
Knotts shook his head.
“You sure?” Her eyes burrowed into him.
“Yes.”
“How do you know?” she pressed.
“I’m the managing director of the facility. I’d be notified.”
“Not necessarily. Not if someone’s family is in danger. I need you to start digging, and ask around. We need to know if this is the case. It could affect everything. I’ll also get our team onto checking all communications with your staff and decision-makers. If this was walked out of the building, there has to be motive; we find that, we find who has the vial.”
Already on it.
Thanks, Oz.
“Any political considerations? Contracts you’re up for?”
Knotts shook his head. “We’re just a research facility…”
Molly raised her eyebrows. “And your funding comes from?”
He looked flummoxed. “I… I… There are multiple sources,” he stammered.
Oz.
On it.
Paige had started taking notes.
Molly could feel Oz pressing on the capacity in her cortex right now.
Oz, I’m going to need those neurons.
Out loud she told Knotts, “I’ll also need the names of the two missing scientists. They’re our best lead.”
Eugene answered that question. “Dr. Ana Grossman and Dr. David Rek.”
“Thank you,” said Molly, making a mental note.
“Ana was David’s supervisor. She was the one with access to the samples,” Eugene offered.
Molly turned to look directly at him. “Okay, and have you documented everything that might be in the vial?” she asked.
“Yes, and no. I can take you to the lab and show you the lab reports from the last 18 months while this project has been running. But we haven’t figured out what is missing from that, yet.”
“Okay. Let’s go take a look. We might be able to shortcut that…”
The four sarkians stood up from the meeting room table and filed out into the labyrinth of corridors to make their way to the lab. Along the way, Dr. Knotts took his leave to try and find out what he could in terms of ransoms.
He knows more than he’s telling us.
I don’t doubt it. When I get some operating capacity, I will endeavor to find out what.
Okay, let’s go look at these lab reports first so we can figure out what we’re dealing with.
Molly and Paige followed Eugene.
Ancient Moon Bar, downtown Spire
Pieter Alexander was excellent on paper. His skills were outstanding, and his experience was wide and varied. But standing in front of Joel wasn’t the person that he had expected to be meeting.
Pieter didn’t appear to be your average nerd. In fact, if you saw him sitting on a train or in a fancy restaurant in town, you might mistake him for an artistic type. With a large trust fund.
Though his pseudo-geeky converse pumps were dusty and fashionably “worn,” his immaculate pinstripe suit and crisp white shirt looked like something out of a catalog for the nouveaux riche.
“How was your trip in?” asked Joel, as he invited the Estarian to sit down at the small table in the bar.
The place was peaceful, but there were enough people around talking, drinking, and eating for them to remain relatively anonymous.
“Yeah, good. Really good, thanks. How was yours?” Pieter leaned forward, one arm at an angle on the table, and used the other hand to sweep through his shaggy hairstyle.
Joel sat more squarely, and pulled up his holo notes. “Good also. Thanks.”
The waitress appeared at his elbow within seconds, and they ordered some mochas and got straight down to business.
“Your resume is impressive. With your abilities, you could choose to do anything; how come you’re not working in the city, reeling in the big bucks?” Joel asked him.
Pieter was unfazed. He barely paused to consider his response. “It’s just not the type of environment I’d be happy in. I’d find it rather dull.” Pieter’s accent was slightly melodic, and light, and he didn’t seem to put much effort into enunciating his words. Joel was trying to place which area it might be from.
“So tell me a little about what you’ve been doing for work then…” he asked.
The interview continued for a good hour and a half.
By the end of it Joel was pretty certain they had a good candidate and that he would fit with the team. There was just one more question Molly had asked him to cover.
Joel asked the question, just as he had all the others. “Tell me about your gambling problem.”
Pieter froze. He took a moment to formulate the words. “It’s in the past. But how do you know about that?”
Joel smiled, a relaxed smile. “It’s okay. It doesn’t preclude you from the job. We know because our hacking kung fu is better than yours. But then, we have a few unfair advantages. One of them being your future boss.” Joel closed his holo notes and put all his attention on Pieter. “What we need to know is how ‘in the past’ the problem is.”
Pieter swallowed.
Joel remained casual, but held his gaze. He wasn’t backing down on this one. He needed the truth. The integrity of the team needed the truth.
Pieter’s eyes had gone from being cool and casual to much more earnest. “Very. I mean. I still owe money. That’s why it would be good to get off-world for a while. But I haven’t placed a bet in years. I’ve just been working to keep making payments. But there’s always pressure… from the wrong kind of people, if you know what I mean.”
He ran his fingers through his full head of hair again.
Joel nodded. “Yes, I know exactly the kind of people you mean. I’ve come across those kinds of folks in a few cases I’ve worked.”
Pieter’s eyes dropped to the table, having spilled everything he had been hoping to not mention.
“Okay, so cards on the table time…” Joel continued. “We want you because you are talented, and you’re able to work outside the box. We’ve looked into some of the jobs you’ve done, and you’re a creative thinker.”
He paused, trying to word the next bit right so as not to be misunderstood.
“The other reason we want you on the team is because you can make a judgment call. You don’t play strictly by the book. And, quite frankly, there are going to be times when we need that.”
He paused again, making sure that Pieter was taking it all in.
“Now, when it comes to the team, though, you need to have their backs. If there is even a hint or suggestion that you’ve been creative with the truth, or done anything to harm or take advantage of them, then I personally will come down on you so hard you will wish you were back here on Estaria at the mercy of the gambling sharks.”
Joel sat back in his chair, his casual air returning. “Do you understand our position?”
Pieter swallowed again, and nodded. His eyes were suddenly tired, as the anxiety caught up to him and fatigued him.
“Okay. Great,” said Joel, taking a last swig of his mocha before placing the mug down on the table. He looked up at Pieter. “If you want it, the job is yours.”
Pieter’s eyes had a distant look behind them. He had looked like he had been listening to Joel, but then when Joel finished speaking, Pieter just kept bobbing his head, processing.
Joel waited for his response. “Well?”
Pieter managed to nod more firmly. Then he smiled and nodded again. “Yes, I understand. And I’m in. Please.”
He sat up a little straighter.
Joel leaned forward with his arms on the table. “Well, good then,” he said. “We need to leave in a few days. We’re in the middle of a case right now, so we need to remain flexible. How soon can you leave town with us?”
Pieter’s eyes looked upward as he considered his answer. “Erm,” he paused, his eyes flicking left then right. “Probably about two days. I need to pack some things, and make arrangements at my apartment.”
Joel tapped the table with his forefingers, in conclusion. “Okay, fine. Go ahead and put those things in place, and let’s stay in close holo contact.” He grinned again. “…So we don’t leave without you!”
Pieter tried to grin back, uncertain if Joel was pulling his leg or not.
Chapter 8
Ventus Research Facility, downtown Spire
Eugene led Paige and Molly through the automatic double doors and a securi-field, which looked like it had some bio-hazard detection layer to it. “Okay – so, here we are,” he said, walking into the largest open-plan lab Molly had ever seen.
Paige looked around in awe, as if she’d just arrived on another planet.
Molly got straight down to what she needed to see. “Okay, so if you can show us the lab reports first…” she suggested, by-passing the usual small talk that Eugene was used to when he gave visitors tours.
Eugene bowed his head slightly and then signaled for them to follow him. “Of course. Time is of the essence.”
They passed rows of white benches and equipment, and batches of tests being run in various machines. About halfway through the immense lab, Eugene took them over to a holo portal and stopped. Flicking through the screens, he started pulling up pages and navigating to the intel they needed.
“It’s all here,” he said, stepping back, opening his palm to the holo and allowing Molly in to navigate the lab reports.
Molly stepped forward, and started looking at the material. “Thank you,” she acknowledged briefly. “We’re going to need some supplies, and then we’re going to work from a secure location. Can you get me everything we’d need in the way of samples and disposables for the experiments?”
Eugene looked slightly disappointed. “You mean, you won’t be working from here?” he asked.
Molly didn’t take her eyes from the data. “No, we need to be elsewhere to do this.”
Eugene stayed still. “I… I just wanted to ask…”
Molly glanced over at him briefly. “Uh hm?” she said, waiting for him to spit it out.
Eugene was wringing his fingers nervously. He glanced around furtively. “Erm, well. It’s Ana and David. Do you think they’re ok?”
Molly shook her head. “I have no idea. Why do you ask?”
Eugene leant in a little, and spoke in a low whisper. “Well, I know them. They’re my friends. I’m… I just worry that something awful has happened to them… and I can’t understand why the police aren’t investigating their disappearance. I mean… everyone knows they’re not around. Surely someone must have reported them missing. They have… families.”
Molly frowned, taking the intel on board. “You make a good point. I don’t have answers right now, but… I’d say, keep your head down and let us do our job. If they’re alive, we’ll get them back.”
Eugene looked part way satisfied. “Ok. Ok…” He nodded, as if talking himself into believing her. “Let me go and get what you’ll need.”
He scuttled off.
Paige started chattering about the lab, but Molly was engrossed.
Oz, I think we’ve got the detail we need in this set of experiments I’m highlighting. Are you able to download what we need?
Already on it. Patching through to their Ethertrak now.
Good. And then we just need to look at what they ended up producing, and somehow figure out what combinations could have been mixed.
Molly spun around looking round the lab for something.
“What? What is it?” Paige asked, her last sentence abandoned.
Molly’s eyes scanned the far reaches of the lab. “I’m looking for where they might actually store these toxins once they’ve produced them.” She noticed a door with another securi-field and a keypad. “There…” she nodded with her head, subtly so that only Paige was aware.
Paige turned to look where Molly had indicated. “What do we need to do? They’ll give us access, right?” she asked.
“I would have thought so.” Molly looked around for where their escort had gone. He was nowhere, but there were plenty of other employees walking around in white suits.
She stopped a passerby with a rack of samples in his hands.
“Excuse me,” she said.
He looked at her, and nodded, without bothering to speak.
Her hackles went up a little, and her face firmed, noticing his attitude.
She continued, “I’m here investigating the situation for Dr. Knotts. I need to see the storage area, please.”
“You’re the one who wrote the paper?” The lab-coated passerby spoke, his voice more cold than impressed. The guy was young, and he stood tall and proud; his Estarian blue glow not completely diminished like most of his colleagues. Molly guessed that he had only arrived that morning, whereas the others had probably been working most of the night.
Molly pursed her lips. “If you’re talking about the paper on splicing and dicing the Yultok plant to prove that fucking around with genes is a bad idea…”
The young scientist looked taken aback. Paige assumed it was Molly’s language.
“You look surprised,” Molly commented flatly.
She watched the irritation swell in the guy’s chest and face. “Yeah. Well…” he started, “it was a fucking stupid paper to write.” Then his voice suddenly softened, and his chest relaxed a little as if he were changing his mind. “But I hadn’t realized your reason for writing it - until you said that.”
“Oh,” Molly raised her chin slowly, and paused. “Yeah, that was the main premise. I got graded down because it read more like ‘a manifesto of what science shouldn’t do’,” she shared. “What did you think the paper was for?”
The scientist looked a little embarrassed. “To wreak death and destruction. Probably set you up for your nice cushy job with the military.”
Paige’s eyes widened, watching for Molly’s reaction.
Molly’s mouth flew open in outrage. “You’re serious?” her voice louder and two octaves higher. “I worked with computers in the military. I would never develop this kind of toxin - or any toxin - for military use! It would be a crime against life!” She ran out of breath, and had to stop speaking to breathe.
Paige wasn’t certain, but she thought she saw tears of anger forming in Molly’s eyes.
The young scientist relaxed his frame, and nodded sympathetically, now looking ashamed of how he had jumped to a conclusion that was so far off the mark.
He looked down at the floor, and scuffed a toe against the surface, flicking his hair out of his eyes before looking back at her. “So,” he said more quietly now. “You’re here to help us find an antidote?”
“Yes,” she told him, cautiously holding her hand out to shake his. “I’m Molly, and this is Paige,” she tilted her head in Paige’s direction. “And we need to move fast.”
“Guss,” he answered. He shifted the rack of test tubes into his left arm, and offered them each in turn a fist to bump. “Geek hand-shake,” he explained. “Product of working in a lab with all kinds of things you don’t want to transfer.”
They fist bumped. He smiled at them, as he turned around. Paige shook her head to herself.
This really was another world.
He quickly popped the samples down in a nearby gas cupboard and locked it with a fingerprint device. “Okay, follow me,” he instructed, leading them off to the door across the lab. Clearing the securi-field, he gave them the rundown of how things were stored.
“By category and date?” Molly confirmed.
Guss nodded.
She looked out at the shelves of temperature-controlled samples. “This means that we can take a guess at the products that were disturbed in a given area, and then cross reference them with the lab reports.”
Guss looked at Molly, and blinked. “Yeah. And that would tell us what was missing,” he said, finishing the thought. “I guess we hadn’t thought of that.” He scratched his mop of brown hair, looking a little sheepish.
Molly wasn’t paying attention to him, though. They’d found the shelves that had been disturbed. Some of it had already been cleaned up for obvious reasons. But Molly looked carefully at what had been disturbed. “It looks random. And rushed. She walked up and down the other shelves in the area to check that nothing else had been broken, or looked obviously missing. “This doesn’t look like a special concoction was being produced,” she commented.
Guss had one hand on his hip, and one gripping his hair. “Yeah, uh. I guess you’re right,” he admitted, looking around to see what else he’d missed.
Molly and Paige took images of everything that they would need to narrow their task down, and Guss led them back out to the main lab where they met Eugene. He’d accumulated several boxes worth of samples and materials they would need.
“You guys have transport?” he asked, his hand on a stack of three of the crates.
“We do,” Molly told him. “Out in your visitor parking lot.”
Molly was suddenly glad that Brock had changed the plates before they left, just in case they were being tracked. The car itself worked for their low-key op, as it was inconspicuous and not too new. No one would look at it twice in the downtown environment.
“Okay, let me give you a hand then,” Eugene said, lifting the first set onto an antigrav hover device he’d located while he was fetching the supplies. Guss scurried off to get another couple, and before they knew it, they had “hovered” everything out and loaded up the car.
Guss closed the trunk, and patted it with the flat of his hand. “That’s the last of it.” he told her.
“Thanks for all your help,” Molly said, fist bumping the two nerds. “I’ll be in touch as soon as we need more intel, or when we have something to report.”
Paige hopped into the passenger seat.
Guss and Eugene smiled back at Molly, then Paige. Then Eugene had a thought. “You don’t want to see Dr. Knotts before you head out?”
Molly was already opening the car door on the driver’s side. She shook her head. “He has my holo. He knows where to reach me. Something tells me he’s otherwise disposed right now.” She gave them a knowing glance.
Eugene assumed that she was talking about him trying to run down all the intel she had asked for. It was going to be politically tricky that’s for sure.
Guss stepped back onto the pavement and waved. “I’m glad to have bumped into you, Molly Bates,” Guss gushed. “It’s a comfort knowing someone as qualified as you is on the case.”
Paige glanced at Molly through the open car door window, as if to comment on the attitude turnaround in Guss.
Molly, feeling the weight of Paige’s stare, and guessing why, chose to ignore it out of politeness. It was something they might giggle about later, once they were safely out of earshot.
They made their goodbyes once more and Molly finally got into the car to head back to the hangar. Any moment away from the safety of the ship, Molly was exposed. And now was the not the time to get embroiled in a media showdown, or an old murder investigation.
Especially since on this occasion, she was innocent. Mostly.
Spaceport, Hangar 08771A, Outskirts of Uptarlung
Molly was moving fast, and Paige fell in to helping her load the equipment into the ship. “Let’s just get these loaded and then close the main doors. The fewer people see we’re here, the better.”
Paige picked up a box, and heaved it onto their KrateMaster. She frowned a little. “Why don’t we just leave it in the car?”
Molly didn’t pause to think. “I might be able to make a start on organizing at least some of it when we’re en route.” She checked to make sure the five boxes they’d stacked were adequately balanced before starting to move the whole stack. “If it’s in the car, and in that other compartment, we can’t get access to it until we reach Gaitune.”
“Oh, I see,” Paige nodded. She trotted after Molly, who wheeled the stack towards the hangar. When they came to the ridge into the hangar, Paige helped lift one end of the archaic crate mover onto the ridge as Molly pushed from behind.
Their stack of crates accelerated once they were on the level ground of the hanger floor. Molly grinned dryly. “Shame they didn’t offer us their antigrav boards, eh?”
Paige laughed. “Yeah, I think Brock would have loved to have seen that!”
“Yo!” Crash came jogging down the length of the hangar. “Lemme help you with that.”
“Ah, thanks,” Molly stood up straighter. “If you guys can handle that, I’ll organize some of those other boxes. Maybe we don’t need to bring all of them in.”
“Sure,” Paige said.
Crash made a nod in Molly’s direction, as Paige watched her disappear out to the car again. “You guys are back sooner than I thought you would be…” Crash said to Paige. “Given you were at a lab, that is.”
Paige smiled, understanding exactly what he meant. “Yeah, she was all business. I was more intrigued by the place than she was. We basically just grabbed the intel and supplies, and came straight back.”
Crash looked mildly surprised. “What? No tour? No nostalgia?”
Paige shook her head. “Nada.”
“Wow,” he bobbed his head. “Probably smart, though. She was on another news report this morning. We need to keep her out of sight, if we can.”
The two continued wheeling the stack of crates along the side of the ship to the tailgate.
* * *
Molly had stepped outside. The air was fresh and comfortable, even without her atmosuit jacket on. The breeze whipped gently across her face, catching her hair. She dragged the stray strands from out of her eyes and looped them behind her ear.
As she moved her hand, something caught her eye over on the far side of the hangar from where she stood. She did a double take. There was nothing out of the ordinary, but she could have sworn she felt a person there, just for a second.
She shook her head.
Seeing things, she thought to herself.
It’s all that inter-realm meditating.
She ignored Oz’s dig.
She continued on to the car, her back now to that side of the hangar. She was just about to open a few of the boxes to figure out how to stack them, when she was distracted.
Someone was watching her.
She could feel it.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She reached down to her holo to see if she could send a message to someone, but then remembered she had Oz.
Oz. I think someone is here. If anything happens, be ready to send an SOS to Paige, Crash, and Joel.
Okay. I’ve got messages drafted.
With that confirmation, Molly turned around carefully. There was no one nearby. She started to walk down towards the far side of the hangar.
Movement again. This time a man appeared from behind the hangar wall. He didn’t seem threatening. He just stood to show himself and looked around, as if he were staying out of sight of everyone but her.
Molly watched him, taking in the details she could see. Big, muscular arms. Tall. Brick shit-house like. Tattoos. Probably ex-military. She’s seen enough of those types in her time. If she had to guess friend or foe, she’d probably go with neither right now. There was no way she could take him. Not even with her martial arts expertise. Her mind raced, flitting through her options.
Without reaching with her hand, she tried to feel by pressing her arm against her side if she had her gun on her belt.
Shit. Nope.
She wouldn’t have been able to take it into the lab, so it was still on the ship.
Going to have to try this the old-fashioned way.
What’s the old-fashioned way?
“Hi,” she called out gently; not loud enough to draw any attention to them, in case people were around the other hangars.
The guy motioned with his head, beckoning her to come over.
She stepped away from the car and started to move in his direction. She moved slowly, hesitant to move out of plain sight; she didn’t want to make it too easy for him to jump her.
She stopped a few paces back so she would still be visible to anyone who might be around. She could always scream.
“Molly Bates?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I’m Sean Royale. I work with your friend Garet Beaufort.”
He noticed her shoulders drop, and her face become less stoney.
“Garet sent me to touch base with you, to loop you in on some details. I work for him privately. Outside The Syndicate.”
He glanced around before continuing. ”He has information about this outbreak, and you’re going to need some help.”
Molly was still wary. She hung back. “What kind of help?” she asked. “What do you know?”
He looked around furtively again. “Can we do this inside?”
She hesitated, then looked inside the hangar. The others were up there. Crash might be helpful, if they needed to take this guy down. But it would be putting both of them in danger.
She paused.
“Sure,” she said.
Heck, inside or outside didn’t matter. It wasn’t like he was a vampire, and inviting him in was going to put anyone in any more danger than they were already in. Vampire. She rolled her eyes internally, remembering she would still have to have a conversation with Joel about that.
She signaled to him to lead the way. “Down to the bottom,” she instructed, and then followed. She waited until they were well inside before she started talking.
“My team is just loading some things onto the ship. Want to head up there and grab a mocha with us, and tell us what’s going on?”
“Sure. I’ve got some time. Andus’s people think I’m on the other side of Spire right now.
Molly looked at him quizzically.
“Long story,” he said flatly.
The two strode down to the tailgate and up the ramp onto the ship. Molly noticed as she made the introductions to Crash and Paige that all her concerns about him being a threat had evaporated.
“So, you’re ex-military?” she asked, as they sat in the makeshift kitchen, the mocha machine churning out one cup of nectar at a time.
“Yeah,” he said, sitting squarely at the table, hands perhaps deliberately visible to put them at ease. “Was my whole life,” he continued, “until I was retired by a downsizing initiative out in another system. Recently recalled, though.”
Paige looked confused. “I thought Molly said that you’re working with Garet?”
He nodded. “Yes. That’s right. But he doesn’t know the whole story. We need to keep it like that.”
Paige’s frown got a little deeper. Sean explained, “For his own safety, more than anything. He’s in a very delicate position, and can easily be leveraged. We can’t risk putting the rest of the operation in jeopardy. But yes, I also work for him, to help him fight the good fight where he can. And keep him as safe as I can… given the situation.”
Molly’s mind was racing trying to guess all the different moving pieces to what was going on. Sean seemed to pick up on that.
“Look,” he said, turning to Molly now, “I’m not able to bring you in on everything. At least, not yet. But what I can tell you is that there is a media initiative to make it unsafe for you to be here, Molly. On Estaria.”
It was Molly’s turn to frown. “Why?” she asked, wanting the specifics.
“Because you are the only person who can possibly figure out this toxin thing. And because it is in certain peoples’ interests to have this toxin become a problem.”
Paige gasped, horrified that people would deliberately have thousands of people killed for political ends. “Oh, my ancestors!”
Sean agreed. “Yeah, its pretty horrific. But our best course of action to save those lives is to have Molly create the antidote, and also stop whoever has the toxin blend now from deploying it en masse.”
Molly noticed he used the word blend.
Someone else who knows more than he’s letting on?
Abso-fucking-lutely.
Sean kept talking, his eyes trying to convey his sincerity, and his hand-waving seeming to punctuate his honesty. “Have you put together that these outbreaks of violence in different areas in the city are related to the toxin?”
Molly and Paige looked at each other.
“You said there was something wiggy about that!” Paige exclaimed.
“No, we hadn’t. Not exactly,” admitted Molly slowly, trying to understand what he was telling them. “So you’re saying that this toxin induces aggressive outbursts?”
Crash placed a mug of mocha in front of Sean, and Sean nodded his thanks while he kept talking.
“Yes. About twenty hours before death. It’s just a matter of time before the media starts putting it together. Because of the longish lag time between the outburst and death, it’s going to take a few more days for the pattern to become clear to the authorities. We thought that if you had a heads up on the symptoms though, it might help you isolate the toxin components and come up with a fix.”
Molly had pulled up her holo and was taking notes. “Uh huh. Yes,” she agreed. “That’s helpful, actually. Are there any other symptoms? And any differences between oggs, Estarians and humans?”
“Not that we’re aware of,” he shared, taking a sip of his mocha. “We understand that it affects all races equally, and without discrimination.”
Paige made the appropriate faces and noises of sympathy for the victims. Crash meanwhile had placed mugs of mocha in front of both Molly and Paige and was standing at the machine making his. “Damn awful stuff,” he chimed in.
Molly was still looking at Sean quizzically. “You keep saying ‘we’. You mean… you and Garet?”
Sean shook his head, grinning now. “No, I mean me and some other good guys.” Molly wondered if he were enjoying the opportunity to create some enigma. It can’t have been something he would have experienced much in his line of work, Molly guessed.
Sean filled them in on some of the work that Garet was trying to do, and said that he sends his best wishes.
“Sounds like he’s walking a very tight and dangerous line,” commented Paige. Molly wasn’t sure, but there seemed to be a tinge of ‘I told you so’ in her voice.
Sean picked up on this, and encouraged it. “It is. But he won’t be dissuaded.”
Damn it. He’s building rapport with Paige. He’s a slick operator, this one.
I’m guessing advanced trainings in all manner of things.
I’m thinking you’re right. Heck, he’d give Joel a run for his money.
Sean was still talking, looking intently at Paige. “I just do what I can from the shadows to make sure that he’s more useful to them alive than dead. It’s a full time job, the political babysitting!”
“Ha! We should get Joel in on this gig,” Molly chuckled, tickled by the image. She put on her movie announcer voice, “GI Joel - babysitter. The most deadly game in town.” The group roared with laughter.
Crash even had to wipe a tear from his eye. “What a hoot!” he exclaimed.
Sean was laughing with them. “Yeah, it’s pretty accurate. It’s like any of these things, though: it’s all plain sailing until something shifts and the shit hits the fan.”
“Plus,” he added. “Garet is constantly throwing wrenches in the works in our attempts at keeping him safe. He just won’t be told.”
Paige nodded knowingly. “Sounds like he’s gotten a little more reckless, since getting this second chance at life.” She got up and placed her now empty mocha cup in the plastic crate especially for carrying them down to the basement and washing them out.
“Yeah,” Sean mused. “Oh, but one thing I could use your help with at some point, is setting up a secure drop point so that you can pick up packets of intel as he collects it. If you can come up with a sweet system that lets him pass it to you for either safe keeping or using, he might be able to make an even bigger impact.”
He paused, not knowing who to direct this request to. “It’d need to be 100% secure, and under the radar of Andus. Or anyone else who might be watching.”
Molly was taking a sip of mocha, and swallowed before answering. “Hmm, leave it with me. I’ll need to think of the best way to do that. I’m assuming every device and access point he has is bugged?”
Sean nodded.
Molly spun around awkwardly on her crate, and ditched her mug in the washing bin too. “Might need to look at something that connects through a public network, then. I’ll get back to you on that.”
“Okay, great. Anyway, I should make tracks.” He finished his mocha and stood up to place his cup in the same crate. “But I’m glad we got the chance to connect.”
Paige took his mug and placed it in the crate for him.
Molly stood up and offered her hand out to shake. “Thanks for the intel,” she told him. “It’s going to help in solving this.” He took her hand and shook it, his grip a little tighter than she was used to.
“Sure thing,” he replied. “And if you need anything, just leave a message on this server.” He typed something into his holo and then bounced his wristband against hers. “Don’t try and contact me directly; there’re no guarantees your thread wont be traced. But this server is secure.” He nodded at her holo before continuing. “I’ll be around, working on this to avert as much as we can, so no doubt we’ll confer down the line. Do let me know when you have the antidote figured out, yeah?”
“Will do!” said Molly. She thought about giving him a mock salute, but since they were both military it would have been a little lame. Instead she just waved as he turned and headed down the ramp.
Paige came and stood beside her, also watching him leave. “Did you see his muscles?” she exclaimed, as soon as he was halfway down.
“Shhh…” Molly hushed her quickly.
She could have sworn his profile was smiling as he turned and walked down the side of the ship.
Spaceport, Hangar 08771A, Outskirts of Uptarlung
A few hours later, Joel had returned. In light of the investigation, he decided they needed boots on-planet for when they had an antidote. And if they could isolate the toxin itself before it was released, then so much the better.
Molly and Joel agreed that she should go back to Gaitune, and leave him and Pieter to implement. This meant that the car needed to be completely unloaded of her supplies… something that Paige wasn’t entirely happy about, but it did make her grateful for not having worn high heels.
“Okay, you sure you’re going to be okay here on your own?” Molly asked Joel, wondering if she was asking more because she felt anxious about him not being by her side.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Joel told her. “Are you sure you guys will be okay without the car on Gaitune?”
Molly waved her hand. “Yeah, totally. We’ll get another one, in fact. We just didn’t think when we were packing things up.”
Joel chuckled. “It’s okay. I watched my life pass in front of my eyes when I thought of being stranded here, destined only to take taxis in the big city!” he joked with her.
Molly stepped half a step closer. “So how long until Pieter will be ready to leave?” she asked.
“Couple of days,” Joel said, looking out at another ship taking off from the launch pad. He scratched the back of his head, and stepped a little further away from Molly. She noticed, and cocked her head.
He sighed. “You sure you want to have him designing something so specific for the data drops?”
“Yeah,” she said. “He should be able to handle it. If he fucks up building this new system, we’ll just have to circle back to it later and take another stab at it. In the meantime, Oz and I will have to focus on getting this toxin contained and an antidote developed.”
Joel swung his arms around a little and then stretched them back behind him, loosening his chest. “How much do you want me to tell him about Garet and The Syndicate?”
Molly sucked on her lip for a moment, considering. “Well, he’s part of the team, right? He should know it all…”
“Okay,” Joel tilted his head. “It will also be good for him to see how we work. And you never know. He might even be helpful on this outing.”
“Outing?” She glared at him. “You’re a fucking moron sometimes.” Molly slapped at the top of his arm. “Just stay safe, you hear?” Her voice weakened a little. For a second it looked like she was going to hug him, before she shut down and took a step back again.
“Yeah, you too,” he said, scratching the back of his head, the other hand awkwardly on his hip again.
She turned and jogged up the ramp of the waiting ship.
Joel stepped well clear of the hangar doors as Crash fired up the engines. Slowly the ship lurched out of the hangar, and onto the airfield road. Once they were well clear of the hangar, Joel headed back in to close up.
Just as they reached the take off pad, Joel came out, pausing before getting into the car. He waited, watching them lift off.
He waved, knowing they couldn’t see him. But he wanted to wave them off anyway.
For nearly a minute he stood watching their ascent.
“See you soon, ass munchers!” he mumbled under his breath, as the ship disappeared above the clouds. He couldn’t help but feel a twinge of separation. These were his people, he thought. But he had a job to do.
He got in the car, and pulled up his holo to find some digs for the next few days he was going to be in town.
Chapter 9
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Molly’s lab
After the day-long trip, the remainder of the team arrived back on Gaitune-67. After just a few hours in the rack, Molly was back at work. By the time Paige had joined her, her research was in full swing.
“What does this do?” Paige asked, idly turning the wheel that would hold the test tubes of samples for processing.
“Don’t touch it,” said Molly quietly, barely moving her lips, and without even lifting her eyes from her microscope.
Paige humphed and sat back down at the bench she had just gotten up from.
“I could help you, if you told me what you were doing,” she protested.
“How’s your advanced organic chemistry, then?”
“Er…”
“Any experience in new genetics?”
“No.”
“What about handling toxins that could kill you in a matter of hours, in a horrendously painful death?”
Paige shook her head, feeling a bit stupid.
Molly realized that her attempt at snark was probably hurtful. She looked up.
“Sorry.” She said gently with a little apologetic smile. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just… there’s a lot of pressure on this, and if there was something you could do, I would gladly give it to you… You might be able to help with something later, though.”
“Kay.” Paige seemed consoled. She leaned on the bench and carried on watching Molly. “Maybe I should start reading up, to understand more of what’s going on.”
Molly had returned to her samples. “Or even going through some of the information about this case. ‘Go for the immediately practical’ is my motto.” She looked up, just to give Paige the interaction she was probably needing.
Molly continued talking while preparing another slide. “Sean had said there was a connection between the outbreaks in violent incidents, and this toxin we’re replicating. Maybe you could gather everything there is about that and see if we can work out how they’re getting this toxin out to people.”
Paige looked brighter. “That, I can do!” she said, pulling up her holo.
Silence fell on the lab again.
Molly had commandeered one of the basement areas next to Brock’s workshop as her own lab. The smaller room between the lab and the workshop was the gym. Molly was quietly pleased that she had some of the normal activity around her work area - it would help her fight the isolation that she tended towards.
Right now, though, Paige was making damn sure that wasn’t an issue.
Paige looked up again, and Molly, eyes still on the same microscope slide, sighed to herself. She wasn’t used to this much company while she worked.
“Replicating?”
“Yheees…” she said slowly.
“I thought you were developing an antidote?”
“I will. But the toxin is made up of a blend of strains of the toxin, as it were. So I need to have the right combo to be able to develop an antidote.”
“Oh.” Paige blinked, not really registering what Molly was explaining.
“I’m doing it old school. Once we’ve got the right blend, we can run it through a chemical simulator to make sure it matches the specific symptoms and the incubation period of the symptoms in our victims. Then I’ll find the match by tweaking an existing program. Kind of like cooking.” She paused a moment, looking up at the ceiling. “Or quantum loop gravity calculations.”
Paige nodded slowly.
She started to say something to Molly, then stopped herself. Quietly, she went back to her research, now understanding that for some reason the information she was searching for was going to be needed in the next phase. For a few moments she had assumed that Molly might have just given her a job to keep her occupied.
Some time passed, and Molly had been through a series of slides and samples. Paige couldn’t follow exactly what she was doing, but when she finally stood back from the bench and stretched, Paige figured it was probably okay to speak to her again.
“So, how does this all tie in with your thesis?”
“Oh, I wrote a paper about gene sequencing, and how it could be used to give almost any property to any plant. These samples I’m analyzing are the nectar from the Trachycarpus fortunei plant, commonly known as the Yultok, which we grow all over the place. That was the point of the thesis - to show that anything could be made dangerous when you messed with its genetic makeup. Anyway, the nectars have each been given different properties by the scientists, using the part of the gene responsible for the nectar properties.”
Paige frowned a little, closing one of the screens she’d been working on. “So you mean you can create any property by re-sequencing the genes?”
Molly spoke easily while she organized the next stage of tests. “Well, not anything. But we can take certain things and give them different properties. Like one time, I took some tree cells and made them smell of bacon.”
Paige laughed, her eyes wide. “You’re kidding?”
Molly smiled, realizing how silly it sounded in the big scheme of things. “No. Crazy, eh? But the standard thing grads liked to do to show off was to make furry creatures glow like sea creatures. Or sea creatures grow fur or feathers. Most of it is pretty nasty stuff, though. I stuck to plants.”
Paige went quiet, and started searching for something on her holo.
A few minutes later she spoke again.
“Did you know that 80% of Estarian nail colors are made from plant based colors?”
Molly was putting one toxin on ten slides. She stopped midway through without looking up. She knew right away where this was going.
“No shit?” She kept her head down so Paige couldn’t see she was trying not to smile.
“Yeah, it’s true,” Paige continued in earnest. “So, potentially, if you weren't in the middle of saving the world, you could mess about with the properties of the plant to give us different types of nail color.”
“Potentially. If I weren’t in the middle of saving the world.” Molly remained deadpan. “Or, if I had nothing better to do with my life, like repeatedly beating my head against the door that won’t open, just in case the thousandth time, it worked.”
Paige’s face fell a little. She paused, weighing her options. Molly was applying the second toxin to half of her new samples.
Paige suddenly looked determined. “Okay, so, what if I did some digging to help you do this ‘realm exploration thing’ you’re so interested in, and, in return, you develop some new nail colors for me?”
Molly was searching through her test tubes of remaining toxins. She kept scanning as she spoke. “How about you do some digging,” she said, finding what she was looking for, and opening it up. “And I’ll get Oz to find a way of getting you some nail color shipped here?”
She applied the third sample to two of the first combined toxins and then two of those that had only the first strain on the slide.
“Nooo!!!! That defeats the purpose!” Paige whined. “I want you to explore making nail stuff that doesn’t exist. Like super hard, unchippable color. Or colors that are neon, or iridescent, or whatever!” She spoke faster and the pitch of her voice increased as her excitement at the possibilities swelled.
Molly had sealed her first slide and had her eyes looking back down the microscope again. Paige couldn’t even tell if she was listening.
“Molly…”
“Yeah?”
“What do you think?”
Silence. And then finally…
“Ugh. Lemme think about it.”
“OMG! That’s what my mom would say when she really meant no.”
Molly looked up, now smiling.
“And that tone is the voice I used to use when I was frustrated with my mom!”
Paige laughed. “Come on - it will be fun!” she promised.
“Okay. If we get out of this alive, then yes. Maybe.”
“No, you can’t say ‘yes, maybe’.”
“Okay, probably.”
Paige made a stern face. Molly sighed.
“Okay, okay. Definitely. When this is over, though.”
Paige jumped up and down and squealed. “Oh my ancestors… I have to go tell Brock.”
Molly watched her leave, relieved she hadn’t run over to hug her while she was elbow deep in, probably, some of the deadliest materials in the system.
She could hear the sound of Paige’s high heels clicking down the corridors for a good twenty seconds after she left the room.
Eyes back to her microscope, she smiled as she saw the exact reaction she’d been looking for.
Halfway there, she said to herself. Halfway there.
Erm, Molly.
Yeah?
Just something I noticed when I was reviewing your thesis just now…
Yeah?
Well, it seems you made two leaps in order to make that process work. I can’t find any reference to these methods before, and applying the principle of the Adjacent Possible, it appears that for you to have written that thesis at that time is impossible.
Are you saying I didn’t write it?
No. I’m saying that there is something else going on that even you may not have been aware of.
Go on.
Well, I’ve tested your cognitive ability. And it’s high. Off the charts, in fact, when normalized for the general population.
But… she prompted
But to have been able to make the skips you made… Have you heard of the concept of the Adjacent Possible?
Er, nope.
Well it’s basically the idea that certain things have to happen in order for the next step in the evolution of an organism, a system, an idea, a technology. For instance, life couldn’t have occurred before the cell existed. The cell couldn’t have existed until fatty acids had developed out of the primordial soup and then self-organized into spheres lined with a dual layer of molecules. Once the fatty acids combined to form those bounded spheres a new wing of the Adjacent Possible opens up… because then you have smaller molecules which can flow in, combine and react and then the larger molecules can’t get out. You have an inside and an outside. Cells are one example of the next Adjacent Possible to the existence of the fatty acids.
Meaning…
Some of the leaps you made in your paper were outside the bounds of the Adjacent Possible you started from given the technology and awareness available to you at the time. The techniques you developed are like having created cells before the evolution of fatty acids or bounded membranes.
What are you saying Oz?
Well, you clearly wrote that paper. It’s your style, your finger prints are all over it. You have memory of it. I can only postulate that you were exposed to information that led you through these leaps, leading you to conclusions that made these methodologies possible well ahead of their time.
Molly thought back to the comment Eugene had made about how the tech had evolved. She’d had to reengineer equipment to do the minute work that she wanted to do, but now they had photo optic lasers that could be controlled way better for splicing the molecules.
You may have a point, Oz.
I suspected so.
So is there any way to trace this?
I can poke around. But your memory of any significant papers which helped you make these leaps would be highly useful.
You can access those?
Yes. When you sleep.
Okay. Make it so, then.
Okay. When you sleep. I won’t make you sleep now, while you’re holding that slide.
You can make me go to fucking sleep?
Of course. I have control of most of your neural cortex.
Son of a Bitch! You could have told me that when I was trying to get some sleep on the flight! Dickwad.
That’d be Charles.
No. It’s Dickwad Oz, now.
Hotel Erwin, downtown Spire
Pieter arrived at the hotel room to find Joel sitting at the table in the suite, holoscreens out, immersed in the “leg work” of the case. Joel had one leg up on a chair and seemed to be stretching his hamstring while he worked.
Pieter closed the door behind him, and dumped a number of bags on the bed. “Okay, I got the tech pieces I needed, and I think I can start building something that will do the job.”
Joel looked up, unimpressed with the tech. “What about the important stuff?” he asked, hunger in his eyes.
Pieter grinned. “Oh, yeah, I got that alright.” He rummaged through the bags, locating the one with the hot, steamy containers in it. “Calzone with bacon and extra hot sauce, extra beef… No garlic.” He handed the steaming packet over to Joel, the “Hot Pocket” text written in repeat all over the wrapper.
Joel took the package and started unwrapping it immediately. “Knew there was a reason I hired you!” he said, grateful to finally have food. He hadn’t bothered to calculate how long since he had eaten, but however long it was, his stomach was telling him food time was well over due.
“What did you get?” he asked as Pieter located his own Hot Pocket, and abandoned the other bags on the bed to join Joel at the table. He dumped a stack of napkins on the table before sitting down.
“Ground beef, bacon, and pulled pork, with extra hot sauce!” Pieter was fully distracted by the food as he answered, carefully unwrapping the package.
The pair looked like they hadn’t eaten in a week as they tucked in.
Joel started talking through a bite of pastry. “You know, it’s great to be able to chow down on something meaty with a fellow carnivore!” He realized he came across as a little more excited than he wanted to sound.
Pieter looked up at him, missing the point. “Yeah. It’s good.”
Joel explained further. “Without judgment, I mean. Molly… she’s great and all, and she doesn’t judge, but I feel bad eating half a cow in front of her.”
“Veggie?” Pieter asked.
Joel swallowed the mouthful he’d been chewing. “Yeah. To the extreme. Anything that ‘had a face,’ or came from something with a face… she won’t touch it. Makes ordering pizza a bitch.”
Pieter laughed. “So you haven’t had, say, pepperoni pizza since you signed up with her?”
Joel waved his hands around enthusiastically to emphasize his hardship. “Practically. I mean, I have to eat that stuff. We just do half and half where possible. But ancestors forbid that she ends up with any kind of meat on her piece!”
The pair laughed, and continued eating - more carefully now, because as they got to the filling, the Hot Pockets were so damn hot.
Eventually they started to slow down, and started to talk more.
Pieter indicated to the screens Joel was looking at while chewing. “Find out anything new?”
Joel nodded, chewing and trying to clear his pallet. “Yeah, it seems that these two scientists that went missing were model employees.” He shook his head, and pulled up their images to show Pieter. “I’m starting to think that maybe they were being threatened to steal that toxin.”
He absently tried to bite into the next bite of filling but it was just too hot. Having eaten some crust, convincing his stomach that food was on the way, he carefully placed it down on the wrapping to let it cool.
“We need a way to get into their holos, bank statements, and everything else to see what’s going on. I’ve only been able to get so far. I think if anything were there, it’s probably been removed to avoid suspicion.” He was musing, but then seemed to remember that he’d just hired Pieter as his tech guy. “Hey, think you can have a crack at it?”
“Sure!” Pieter looked both excited to have something real to work on, and a little anxious that he was being thrown straight in.
Joel transferred the files over to Pieter's holo, for when he was finished eating. “So how did you get on with the parts for the system?” Joel asked, changing the subject.
Pieter had just taken another bite, and was chewing fast to be able to answer.
Kid must have a mouth made of asbestos, Joel thought to himself.
“Yeah, I got everything I needed,” Pieter responded. “I just need to get to building it and then make sure that it works. I think I’m going to have to write a specific firewall for it, too, so that the data can only be placed on the server, but not retrieved, in case it is ever discovered. The idea would be if Garet was ever caught with it, it should just look like something mundane, like a normal data plug or something.”
Joel was impressed. He saw Pieter was thinking through the user application rather than just the code. Guys like this were hard to find. “Got it,” he said. “And then when he wants to upload, he goes somewhere public and uploads it to the server…”
Pieter picked up the trail of thought “… which looks exactly like a Webflix server if anyone were to isolate the packets…”
“… and then we will be able to download it to our servers any time after that,” finished Joel.
Pieter looked pleased with himself. “Yep. That’s the plan!”
“Okay,” Joel said, laying out the plan. “I’d like to field test it before we give it to Garet. He’s one of us. We need to make sure he’s not going to compromise himself any more than he is already doing.”
Pieter put down his Hot Pocket briefly and made some holo notes. “Yeah, I get that,” he agreed. “Man, he’s got balls to be doing what he’s doing.”
Joel nodded, carefully picking up his food again. “Yeah, like you wouldn’t believe. Honestly, when I first met him he seemed a bit of a pussy. You know, average guy in a life or death situation.”
Joel’s eyes fixed on a spot on the wall as he remembered the day in the hotel room not dissimilar from the one they were in now.
“But since he was nearly kidnapped, and everything else went down, he seems to have embraced the danger. Like he found out what was really important to him, and just decided to go for it, no matter what.”
Joel paused, the Hot Pocket half way to his mouth. “You know, I think I’ve got a lot of respect for the guy.”
Pieter was listening intently. He stopped chewing, and swallowed. “Sounds like a hero.”
Joel looked thoughtful. “I’ve been on the fence about him a lot of the time, but recently, I’m thinking, yes. He is.” He took a bite of the Hot Pocket, careful to just eat the bits that had had time to cool.
He indicated to his holo screens. “I was watching some of his speeches. He’s really making a difference. And I know he’s having to do some dodgy shit behind the scenes; he’s in the pocket of a really dark group, but he’s also managing to make some good strides with what he does.”
Pieter was curious. “Didn’t he come out of nowhere, though? I mean, he was just a government employee, right? Then a whistle blower, and all of a sudden he’s what, a senator?” Pieter took another bite of food. Joel was sure he saw him flinch a little at the heat.
Ha! Not so tough, teflon boy… he mused to himself.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Joel nodded, interested to hear how the guy he’d hauled into a getaway car, under a hail of gunfire, was now being perceived.
He continued. “The Syndicate made him a senator. When Dewitt, his boss, was killed - probably also by The Syndicate - it left an opening. An opening that The Syndicate wanted filled with someone they can control. Garet took the position to try and do some good, knowing he’d have to do some stuff for them along the way.”
Pieter had just swallowed his mouthful. “Sounds like a difficult balancing act.”
“Yeah. A very dangerous one,” Joel agreed. “And if we can help him leverage some of the things he is managing to do, then so much the better.” Finally realizing he was able to eat the Hot Pocket that wasn’t so hot any more, Joel dug into the meaty awesomeness, and didn’t speak again until he was done.
Chapter 10
Newstainment Offices, downtown Spire
Evenings at the office were the best time for getting work done, and for accessing footage that she shouldn’t be. With most people having already left, there was a quietness which still remembered the activity of the day. Almost like the determination and energy of the place lingered.
Maya was the only person left in her section of cubicles. She’d seen Scott, or Stanley, or whatever his name was, from the entertainment group, scuttling around earlier… but even he might have left.
Maya scrolled through the footage again.
There was something not right with it; something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She found it hard to believe that the girl and the guy on the screen were really involved in Dewitt’s death. There had to be something more to this story.
She scrubbed backwards and ran the clip again.
“Any progress?” Bob August popped his head over her work cubicle wall.
Maya screwed up her mouth to one side. “Not yet,” she said, still looking at the screen. “Something isn’t adding up.”
“Well, you could do with figuring it out before tomorrow morning. I want something juicy to run the next cycle with.”
As Editor-in-Chief of Newstainment, and a veteran investigative journalist, he was a hard ass; hard-boiled in the news, and, though he demanded high standards and commitment to the story, he ran a fair ship.
Maya nodded, a strand of hair falling in front of her face. “You got it, boss,” she said, peering at her screen and ignoring the strand of hair.
Bob turned to go. It was getting late in the evening, and it had been a long, caffeinated day of meetings and activity out on the streets. All he really wanted was to unwind with a glass of wine.
Something stopped him leaving, though.
He turned back to Maya, poking his nose over her cubicle again.
“What are you watching?” he asked, with the curiosity of his gut that had led him to finding many a successful story. She started to describe it to him. He knew the clip already, and came round to look at it properly over her shoulder.
“You know, that girl… she’s not shown up in the police facial recognition. Which in itself is odd. But you know what else…” he trailed off.
He waved his index finger absently in the air, and walked off towards his office. Maya figured it meant wait a minute. She sat, scanning other screens she had up, awaiting his return.
“Maya!” he called from his office ten feet away. Had the office not been deserted, she might have been embarrassed. Instead, now having the run of the place, she left her desk and obediently trotted through to him.
She hovered at the door, and he beckoned for her to come in. He pushed a holoscreen out to the wall, enlarging it. In that moment he looked transformed, now seeming more like a journalist who had caught a case, than an aging, disgruntled editor.
He stepped over to the screen, poking his finger into the hologram of Molly’s face. “Knew I’d seen that face before. Check it out.”
Maya stepped closer to the image to get a better look. Her hand reached up unconsciously, as it occurred to her.
“Same girl!” she breathed.
“Same girl,” he confirmed.
Maya, face up to the holo, turned to glance at him. “Where is this?” she asked.
Bob ambled away from the screen to sit confidently behind his desk. “Coming out of a research facility. Ventus Research.”
The video clip showed Molly and Paige outside of the Ventus Research, with two of the scientists helping them load things into their car.
Maya had turned her head back to the hologram, nose practically interfering with some of the light rays. “Wonder what’s going on,” she mused out loud. “Who is the girl? Why is she here? What is she taking out of that facility? And what was she doing at the Dewitt residence when he died?”
Bob was watching Maya with the look of a proud parent. “Answer those questions,” he told her, “and you’ll have one hell of a story.”
Maya nodded. “You got anything else?”
Bob shook his head. “The video was sent in anonymously. To my personal holo account.”
Maya barely needed time to consider the information.
“Means it’s from someone who is smart enough to figure out who you are, and how to get your attention.”
Bob had taught her well. He bobbed his head, crossing one leg over the other knee. “Rules out the run of the mill kind of tips and whistle-blowers,” he admitted.
Maya looked up again at the footage. “You tried seeing if Tech can trace it?”
Bob scoffed. “Those buffoons?”
“Quiet,” agreed Maya softly. “Mind if I try?”
Bob waved his hands, “Be my guest!”
She nodded in acknowledgment.
Bob checked the time on his holo, then rubbed his face with his hands. “Okay, all yours,” he sat up again suddenly, uncrossing his legs and poking at his holo. “Sending it to you now. Let me know what you find out.”
Maya felt she had been dismissed, so she headed straight back to her desk. So much for heading home for an early night tonight, she thought. How could she possibly sleep with such a lead on this thing?
She settled in to watch the video and start the research process. She may have to call in a few favors in the morning.
District Morgue, downtown Spire
Maya arrived at the district morgue just as the morning shift was coming in.
“Dr. Jones? I’m Maya Johnstone,” she called down the corridor. The slow gait, and hunched shoulders told her that this man was just finishing his shift.
He turned around, and instantly remembered. “Ah, the girl who phoned during the graveyard shift.”
She had two mochas in her hands, and as she approached him, she held one out for him. He chuckled. “You’re too kind.”
The guy sighed, and indicated to the chairs in the corridor. “Shall we sit a moment?”
They sat down, and he began right away. “You wanted to know about the Jane Doe?”
Maya nodded expectantly.
Jones mirrored her nodded and continued, “Her throat was slit and she bled out. We’ve tried running matches for blood type, DNA, fingerprints, and dental records… Nothing. It’s like she’s been erased from the system.”
Maya looked down at her mocha, thinking out loud. “Or she was never in the system?”
Jones looked confused.
Maya noticed, and shifted her focus. “And if she’s not in the system, then it doesn’t matter who her DNA says she is, we can’t identify her.”
He dipped his head, and moved his mocha for emphasis. “Correct. But you said you might have something,” he said, pointing one finger at her with the paper mug in his hand.
“Yes,” she started. Maya scrambled to get to her bag and then swiveled in her seat, looking for somewhere to put her mocha down. He held out his other hand to hold it for her, and she gratefully handed it over.
She continued talking while she pulled a printed photograph from her bag. “A picture of a person who went missing around the same time. The trouble is, and I think we should warn your colleagues… this missing person was a scientist at a facility that was dealing with lethal toxins. Not germs. But toxins.”
The elderly man exhaled and shook his head, but his hand movements were now restrained by the mocha cups. He’d spent the last several weeks in the lab with that body.
His eyes went up to the ceiling. “Okay. Let’s think this through. Those research grade things… they tend to work fast. It’s been two weeks, and the body is sealed in an evacuated tube, effectively frozen, to preserve any evidence.”
He stood up, and handed Maya her mocha back, then started walking back towards the double doors of the morgue, away from what Maya guessed was the locker room.
Maya started hurrying after him, battling to get her bag on her shoulder while carrying the mocha. “You don’t think there is a risk, then?” she called after him.
“I didn’t say that,” he called back. ”But let’s go check it out. And if you have a picture, then maybe we can ID her and get some progress on this case.”
They entered the morgue, and two “fresh” staff members turned in unison to look at them. They were just getting set up and reviewing case files on the morgue’s holo screen.
“Sorry for the intrusion,” Dr Jones announced. “It seems we may have a hazardous material in our midst.”
Jones briefly explained the situation to his two colleagues, who looked increasingly worried. Maya stood a few paces back, near the door, sipping her mocha casually, noticing their confused, furtive glances in her direction.
She was fascinated when the two professionals suddenly found urgent matters they needed to attend to elsewhere in the building.
“You’re not going to stop them?” Maya asked, after they’d left the lab.
“Nah,” Doctor Jones walked tiredly through the lab over to another set of doors. “If we’re infected with anything, then we’ve already spread it wherever it’s going to go. And, honestly, I think we would have shown symptoms by now. However…” He took out some protective gear from a box on a table just before the doors.
Maya plunked her mocha down on the desk next to the box as she stood next to the doctor.
“Gloves and facial mask,” he said, handing a set first to Maya and then taking a set himself.
They put them on, and he led her through to the storage area where they kept the bodies. He entered a code on a keypad on one of the lockers, and the airtight seal released with a pssssst, and then the drawer released outwards.
Maya took the picture out of her bag.
Jones pulled the drawer out a little, and then beckoned her over. He pulled back the cloth from over the woman’s face. Maya and Jones looked first at the woman, then at the picture and then at each other.
“Looks like you’ve found your girl,” he said grimly, respectfully replacing the cloth and closing up the locker again.
Maya nodded solemnly. “That’s her, alright.” She paused a moment. “So she bled out? Then what?”
Jones had a sad look in his eye. “Police report said she was found in a garbage truck when it was emptied out at the dump.”
Maya noticed his demeanor had shifted a little. This wasn’t just a job to him - he genuinely cared about these people and how they died. She caught herself wondering about him, and then pulled herself back to what she needed to get done.
“Okay. Looks like I need to trace that location,” she said, making a note on her holo.
Jones shifted back from the hint of melancholy she had noticed just a second ago. He closed and sealed the drawer again. “I’ll get the name of the detective on the case. He’ll probably be able to help you.”
“Thanks,” she said.
He left the room, peeling off his gloves and mask.
Maya closed up her holo and followed him back through to the main morgue, picking up her mocha cup on the way. There was no way she was finishing what was left, toxins or no toxins. She found a trash bin, deposited the remains of her mocha, and popped the photo back into her bag.
“Here you are…” Jones called over from the lab holo. “It’s Detective Antonio Rogers, in homicide. You can probably just reach him through the precinct switch board.”
He walked over to her and she held out her holo for him to bump the details over. “I’ll let him know you’re going to be in touch. I need to pass on this information to him next… just as soon as we run some tox-screens on the body.”
Maya checked the details and closed her holo again. “Excellent. I’ll call him this morning.” She looked up. “And thank you,” she said.
He nodded, the sad compassionate look in his eyes again.
“We’ll solve this,” she added, wishing there was more she could do for this dear man who had made justice for the dead his life’s work.
She turned to leave, but then stopped. “What will happen to her?” she asked.
Jones took a deep breath. “Well, now we have an ID, the investigation will continue. Her next of kin will be notified, and then, as long as she’s not toxic, she’ll be given back to her family for a service.”
Maya nodded slowly. After a moment she mumbled her thanks again and left.
Hotel Remona, New Versaille, 37 km East of Spire
David Rek, scientist and murderer, was pacing the little hotel suite in frustration. His fists kept clenching and unclenching, like he was trying to find something to punch and then trying to talk himself out of it.
“You said I could speak to my family. I’ve cooperated. I’ve done what you asked. Now let me speak to my wife,” he demanded.
Erik, the Ogg, was firm. “Not until the boss gets here.” His jaw was set.
Rek stopped and glared at him. Erik held his gaze.
The pair became aware of thumping on the floorboards outside.
Thump, thump-i-ty-thump.
A slight hint of humming came through the door.
They returned their attention to their standoff.
As an Estarian, Rek stood a good few feet taller, but Erik had the black atmojacket and the “bad guy look” about him. Plus he was built with a solid, low center of gravity, and probably fewer brain cells.
Rek wondered about his chances against Erik, and then remembered his opponent’s weapon, tucked into his belt.
Thump, thump-i-ty-thump. Thump, thump-i-ty-thump.
More humming.
Still playing the stare down, Erik started to falter.
He turned his head without moving his eyes, and called out to the door, “Henry, it’s your turn to watch the prisoner.”
There was a little gasp of excitement from outside the door, and a scuffling, as if someone were getting up.
A moment later Henry fell into the room, brimming with excitement. “Yay! My turn. My turn!”
Erik had broken the stare, and now glared at Henry like it was his fault. “What were you doing out there?”
Henry blinked, cocking one hip. “Nothing.”
Erik narrowed his eyes. “You were dancing, weren’t you?”
“No.” Henry replied flatly and looked off into the top corner of the room.
Erik insisted. “We could hear you prancing around.”
Henry’s eyes went down to the floor. “So?”
“Here,” Erik said gruffly. He handed Henry the gun from his waistband. “Watch him. I’m going down to the lobby to watch for Miss Jessica,” he told Henry.
Then he turned to David. “It’s set to full power, so don’t try anything stupid.” He paused for effect, and gave his most menacing glare up at the strapping Estarian. “Henry is trigger-happy, and not all there.” His expression changed, as if now confiding in him. He stepped in a little closer to Rek. “He thinks he’s in a computer game,” he whispered.
The two adversaries turned their heads to look at Henry who was now casually swinging the gun on one finger, a dopey grin over is face.
“So… what did you have for lunch?” Henry asked David, trying to make conversation.
David looked at him, horrified that his captor would ask such a thing.
Erik gave a knowing look. “See… not all there.” And with that he strode out of the room, closing the door behind him, leaving Rek and Henry alone.
Aghast at both the situation and the imbeciles who were holding him, Rek strode over to the window, looking out for this Jessica woman who had been calling all the shots. If he could get a glimpse of her car or something, it might be a clue that he could use.
If he ever got out of here alive.
He spun around, his hands on the windowsill. Henry had taken a seat in a chair by the door, gun in hand and trained on him.
Henry was an idiot. If he wasn’t holding a gun, Rek could have overpowered him any time.
But, then. They still had people watching his family. One wrong move, and all it would take would be a call to their colleagues, and that would be game over.
He turned back to the window, and churned the possibilities a number of times in his mind.
A few moments passed, and Henry piped up again. “You know, tomorrow I could bring some clothes in, and we could play dress up.”
Rek straightened up and turned around. Maybe this was an opportunity. “How about you do that?” he said, playing along.
Henry’s face brightened with sudden enthusiasm. “I can bring some makeup, too!”
Rek forced himself to smile. “Yes!” he said, with all the faux-enthusiasm he could muster.
Henry bounced his hands together, the gun waving in all directions.
Rek saw his chance. “Hey, you know… Oh,” he paused.
Henry stopped, intrigued. “What?” he asked, suspending his excitement.
Rek continued slowly, and as casually as he could. “Well, if I had my holo I could…”
Henry shut down, and trained the gun back on him. “No. No holo. You’re trying to be clever with me.”
Rek gave up instantly, and turned back to the window.
After two weeks in this living hell, having murdered his colleague and stolen a vial of enough toxin to wipe out the city, he was exhausted. He wasn’t going to pretend. Fuck trying to regain Henry’s trust. There was going to have to be another way.
Just then he noticed a black car pull up outside the hotel. The tall, glamorous woman they called Miss Jessica had arrived. He looked back around the room, searching for a weapon, or something he could use to get himself out of there. He even briefly considered taking her hostage.
There was nothing.
His shoulders slumped, and Henry continued humming away to himself.
All Rek wanted was to keep his family safe and go home to them…
He sat in the upright armchair by the window, opposite the door. He tried to look relaxed but noncompliant. Inside, he could feel the tension rising in his chest. He shifted awkwardly in his seat, trying to level out his breathing and calm his mind.
A few minutes later, Miss Jessica finally entered the room.
She was glamorous, but also commanding. It was no wonder these goons were in awe of her.
Her long red hair dulled some of the glow from her blue skin, and waved around her face like something out of a mystical book of sorcerers.
Erik physically pulled at Henry, dragging him out of the room by his sleeve.
Rek started making his case immediately. “I did what you asked,” he began, firm and demanding. “A deal is a deal.”
Miss Jessica shook her head, her hair bouncing gently as she did so. “Our deal isn’t quite done yet,” she told him. “You’ve still got one more task to perform.”
She wafted gracefully over to the bed and dropped her purse. Taking off her coat, she turned to look at him, holding his gaze.
If he hadn’t known the horror of what she actually wanted him to do, he might have assumed she was trying to seduce him.
He swallowed hard.
She perched on the bed. “The device. The one you designed for us. We’ve had two made, and they’re being filled tonight.”
He didn’t move. He just stayed in the chair, watching her. He may as well have been tied up.
She continued issuing the order. “Your task is to go with Henrik to the lab and collect the loaded devices. Then you will be taken to where they are to be deployed; your job is to arm the device and deploy it into the water supply, as per the design.”
She casually held his gaze knowing he had no choice but to agree.
Rek shifted in his seat again, now looking anywhere he could but at her.
Finally he spoke. “And if I do this, you will take me to my family, and let me get them out of town before this toxin gets through the system?”
She nodded her head once. “I will,” she promised.
His mind was already made up. “Okay. I’ll do it,” he told her.
She reached over for her coat. “Good,” she said, sealing the deal with the word.
She paused, a slight smirk on one corner of her lips. “Obviously I don’t need to remind you what is at stake.” Picking up her bag and coat, she turned to the door. “You’ll leave for the lab in an hour.”
With that, she opened the door to step out.
The two Oggs had been leaning against it with their ears against the wood trying to hear. With the door now gone, they lost their balance and landed in a heap at her feet.
“Ansans Ari,” one said.
“Get your elbow out of my –“
“You fucking half-wit!”
“Farðu til helvítis-”
Jessica raised her eyes to the ceiling as she stepped over them, and made her way down the hall.
Rek thought about just following her, but they still had his family.
If he was going to get through this, it would be because they either decided to let him go, or someone in the authorities realized that he was missing, and thwarted their plan.
Given that his family was being forced to go about their business, it looked like they had all their bases covered, though.
Eventually Henrik got their act together. Erik nodded to Henry to go back in, and he closed the door behind him, presumably to escort his mistress back downstairs. Rek could hear the Ogg padding heavily down the corridor after her.
Henry sat back up on the chair, swinging the gun idly and watching it pivot on one finger, as if nothing had happened.
Chapter 11
Ancestor Memorial Hospital Morgue, Spire
Maya clicked open a holo call to give Bob an update. It went to voicemail.
Maya waited for the beep and started talking. “Boss, I’ve found a link between Ventus Research Facilities and the toxin leak. Just need to check out another lead, the second scientist - then I’ll know more.”
She clicked off.
There. That should keep him satisfied for now. If she played her cards right, this story could cover a few new cycles in the primary positions.
Maya got out of her car in the visitor’s lot and headed up to the hospital morgue, the second place she was visiting that morning. With only a three-hour turnaround at her apartment, she’d had about two hours’ sleep and was still exhausted.
Following the signage to the morgue reception area, she waited patiently by the desk for someone to appear. Eventually a slim, timid girl emerged from a set of double doors into a corridor.
“Greetings. Can I help?” she asked politely.
“I hope so. I’m here about a John Doe. I called earlier and spoke to Carla.”
The female Estarian had a look of recognition at the information. “Ah yes,” she said, her voice turning from polite to warm. “Carla is off shift now, but she told me you’d be coming by. Maya, is it?”
Maya nodded, extending her hand. “Yes, that’s right.”
“Casey,” she replied, taking her hand and shaking it gently. Her hands were warm and soft, which surprised Maya for someone working in such a contrasting environment. “Would you like to follow me?”
Casey led the way through to the corridor and then in through a set of doors off to the left.
The two women walked side by side down the second corridor. Maya talked as they went. “Hey, Casey. Thanks for helping out like this.”
Casey glanced over. “Sure,” she said with a delicate smile. “So, our victim seems to have drowned,” she continued professionally, “but we’re having trouble identifying him because of the water damage to his prints.”
Maya braced herself for disappointment. “You’ve tried DNA?” she asked.
“No. It’s a long, resource-heavy process. We’d only do that if we suspected foul play. Right now, there isn’t enough evidence to make us think that. Though an ID would be nice.”
Maya’s face looked tense, but Casey didn’t notice. She led her through into the storage area, which was not dissimilar from the one she had been in less than an hour previously. She unsealed a locker, pulling out the tray.
Maya thought to pull out the photograph, but hesitated, instead choosing to mentally prepare herself for looking at another dead body.
Casey was about to pull the sheet back. She paused, looking back at Maya. “Ready?” she asked, her eyes showing a real compassion for those who would have had to identify loved ones.
Maya nodded.
Casey pulled back the sheet. This man was Estarian, alright, but had dark hair; and despite water bloating, was much older than her scientist.
Maya exhaled, and then noticed that she had been holding her breath. “It’s not him,” she said.
Casey replaced the sheet and then pushed the tray away and sealed it in.
Maya just stood there for a moment.
Casey gave her the space. “Always a relief,” she commented, her voice soft and comforting.
Maya wondered if she was actually a doctor, or whether she was an assistant that handled the identifications. This was the second person who had offered only her first name in the department.
Funny, the details you notice at times of emotional stress, she thought.
Maya nodded. “Yes, it is a relief. Thank you.” She sighed. “But it means the gentleman I’m looking for is still missing.”
They took their time wandering back out to reception area.
“Thank you so much for your help, Casey,” Maya said as she shook the woman’s hand again.
“Any time,” Casey smiled back.
Maya left, deep in thought.
If the second scientist is still alive, she considered, then maybe they’re keeping him alive for a reason. She headed out into the parking garage to find her car.
And what would an evil person want with a toxin, and one of the scientists who developed it?
She slammed her palm against her forehead. Of course! They’re keeping him alive to run the experiments, and work out how best to deploy it large scale.
She hurriedly located her car and got in.
This reeked of terrorism of some kind. And there would probably be a handful of people who would benefit from such an attack. She shifted the car into gear and started up the engine. She needed to get back to the office, and fast. This was way too big for her to handle on her own. She needed Bob in on the conversation for direction… and protection. He’d know what to do.
She sped away from the parking lot, ordering her nav system to find the fastest way back to the office.
Newstainment Offices, downtown Spire
Maya sat at her desk with Bob the Boss hovering over her. It was the middle of the day, and the newsroom was a hive of activity. She would probably have Bob’s attention for 120 seconds until someone else pulled it away for something urgent.
“Okay, so here is what I have,” she started, getting straight to it. “These two scientists have gone missing.”
She pulled up the images of David Rek and Ana Grossman on her holo. Bob peered over his glasses to look at them. “Uh huh,” he said.
Maya continued. “Except no one has reported them missing…”
Bob glanced down at her briefly. “So how do you know they’re missing, then?”
Maya didn’t miss a beat. “Because they were on the work schedule at the lab where they both work: Ventus Research.” She looked up over her shoulder to check her boss was following her explanation.
“Everyone had been drafted in,” she continued. “Everyone is swiping in. In fact, attendance at the lab has increased by 80% in the last 10 days. People are staying all hours of the day and night and working to exhaustion. Except these two. They’re not on leave, and they’re not there. They’re just not swiping in.”
Bob straightened up a little, and drew in breath. “And you got all this, how?” he asked. He was no longer looking at her screen, but now glancing down at her, sitting at her desk.
She turned awkwardly to look up at him, feeling like a little girl. “HR records,” she said flatly.
He looked back at the screen. “Clever girl.”
He went straight on, almost as if he were embarrassed to dwell on the praise. “So what’s the crisis they’re managing?” The excitement of a hunt for the story was evident again in his voice.
“Well,” she told him, “two weeks ago, they issued a release reporting that there had been a breech in protocol, and a toxin had been released into the population. It wasn’t germ warfare, or a virus that can spread, so it doesn’t have that sensationalism. The media, including us, have practically ignored it.”
She pulled up a different screen to show him one of their own reports, with low placement and a couple of hundred hits.
“But,” she went on, “in this same time period… there have been outbreaks of violence. Isolated cases.”
Bob looked at her, twiddling his glasses in his hands. “You think there is a connection?”
Maya nodded, speaking more quickly now. “Yes, and the incidents are escalating in the amount of violence, and the number of people affected. I think someone is testing the potency of the toxin that was taken, and monitoring the effects for something bigger. That’s why they need this other scientist alive. I think he’s helping them.”
Bob stood upright again, one hand on his hip this time.
He considered the information for a moment and then laid out the action plan. “Okay, get Johnny to carefully look into the background of this second scientist.”
Maya started making notes.
“Get him to check on his family,” Bob continued. “If he’s being leveraged, they could be in danger. Anything we find, get it to the police. There’s no room for fokking around on this. The city could be in danger.”
Maya nodded diligently, knowing she needed to call the homicide detective anyway.
Bob started to leave her cubicle, aware that other people were already queuing up to speak with him. He stopped and turned back to her.
“How did you find the girl in the morgue?” he asked.
Maya looked sheepish. “Ran a search for height and time of disappearance for both scientists who had disappeared. Only pulled up two possible matches, so I went down to ID them in person from their pictures.”
He frowned a little as he asked the obvious. “You couldn’t have used facial rec?”
She shook her head. “Something odd going on there. Why didn’t the authorities do that with the body? I figured that any trace of her on their records must have been wiped. I got Ana Grossman’s image off her social media profile. It would have been too suspicious for that to be removed, right? Got lucky, I guess.”
Maya was already pulling up the number for Detective Antonio Rogers.
Bob was shaking his head as he headed back to his office. “Good work, Maya,” he called back to her loudly, so that the whole department could hear him. “That kind of shit just can’t be taught.”
People who were standing around turned and looked at him, and then in the direction of her cubicle.
Maya smiled. She felt the stir it created, a dozen eyeballs drilling through her cubicle partitions to see why she was so special.
She shook the attention from her mind, and focused down on her work again. She wasn’t home free yet.
Chapter 12
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Molly’s lab
Paige clip-clopped back into the lab.
Molly didn’t even look up, but acknowledged her entrance. “What’ve you been up to?” she asked.
It had been a good few hours, and Molly had actually noticed her absence.
Paige slumped back down onto a lab stool. “I was talking with the guys in the workshop,” replied Paige, somewhat cagily.
Molly smiled to herself. “Brock, you mean?” she asked, eyes still in the microscope.
Paige flushed a little.
“What did he think of your nail varnish idea?” Molly asked. “I take it you guys have plans for selling this shit commercially…”
Paige’s mouth hung open. “How could you possibly know that?”
Molly removed the slide and replaced it with the next one. “I didn’t, for sure. You just told me…”
Paige stared at her, waiting for more of an explanation.
Molly sighed, and started to explain. “Well, if he were interested for his own purposes, you would have told him and then come back to pester me about it some more.”
She flipped off another slide and swapped it out for the next one.
“But since you were gone for so long, I figured you must be talking about something.” Molly looked up. “I didn’t know for sure until I asked you, though.”
Paige, chuckling to herself, amazed at Molly’s abilities, rested her arms on the lab bench and then put her head on her arms.
Molly started tidying the set of samples away. “So, what are you? Equal partners?”
Paige shook her head. “No. He’s going to help with the modeling and brand image, but we won’t be able to nail that stuff down until we know everything the whole venture will entail. After we’re done with the mission, we’ll think about it some more.”
Molly dumped the bunch of samples she’d been working through into a bag for incineration.
Paige raised her head. “So how’s it coming along?” she asked, nodding towards the clutter of equipment and samples on the bench that Molly was now clearing away.
“I’ve replicated the toxin, and I know with 89.9% certainty which one they’re using.”
Paige’s normally smooth face looked wrinkled with concern. “Is that certain enough?”
Molly nodded. “It’s going to have to be. The next possibilities are 11.3% and 4.8%.”
Paige, despite her lack of scientific background, wasn’t convinced. “Is there any way to test it? To check it?”
“Yeah, if we had a sample to check it against we could be 100% certain. But unless we get a sample from someone who is infected…” her voice trailed off.
Paige looked more serious now. “Joel is still on the surface.”
Molly’s voice was firm. “And to ask him to track down someone who is infected would likely get him exposed and killed. Not an option.”
Paige nodded, racking her brain for a way to keep Joel safe, and still get them the sample.
Molly took a deep breath and exhaled conclusively. “Anyway, now that I have the most likely sample, I’ve already got an antidote sequencing.”
Excuse me? Who has it sequencing?
“Okay, so Oz is doing some super high-level processing shit to sequence an antidote.” Molly nodded over at a bench top machine that seemed to be whirring around. To Paige, it looked like a huge microwave oven.
“Great. So then what?” Paige asked. “Once you have an antidote here… how do we get enough of it to the surface?”
Molly waved her hand dismissively. “Once we know what it is, our friend Eugene should be able to replicate it there. Then we just have to think about how to deploy it once he’s created it.”
Paige looked at Molly blankly. Molly sat down poking at screens on her holo.
Molly hadn’t noticed Paige looking at her, and continued with the trail of thought. “You know, I noticed that the toxin is water soluble.”
She poked at a few more screens.
“If memory serves, the antidote for this plant toxin is also going to be water soluble…”
Paige shook her head, confused. “Which means?”
“Which means,” Molly looked up at her, “it’s likely that if they want to mobilize the toxin citywide, they’ll be hitting the water supply. The good news is, if the antidote is water soluble, we can put the antidote in there, too.”
Paige’s eyes were wide. “You think they might try and infect everyone?”
Molly nodded grimly. “Certainly seems likely,” she said. “So that means we need to find the most likely access points that would cause the most effective distribution - whether that means for deploying our antidote… or to guard those points, and stop them deploying the toxin.”
Oz, can you pull the plans for the waterways in Spire?
Already done, as you were interfacing with words.
As opposed to the more superior way of using 1s and 0s?
Exactly.
Molly cocked her head. Paige looked at her, amused, assuming she was talking with Oz. Head now in her hand, as she leaned onto the bench, she watched Molly’s reactions, waiting for the solution to magically appear in the conversation.
Okay, so there are three locations that are most likely to be toxin drop points. All are at distribution and filtration centers. If they understand what they are doing, they will hit the water post-filtration, before it is redirected back into the supply for a given area.
Right. Any cameras on those access points?
No. Only the building cameras for the staff. Not the specific vulnerable locations.
So our next best bet is to get Joel to give us some eyes on these points, then?
She opened her holo.
Can you get a voice message to him in the next download, and attach the location of these points?
Affirmative.
Molly started talking into her holo. “Joel. Update. We have the toxin combo isolated, and Oz is working on the antidote. Both are water soluble, which means they’re going to deploy the toxin through the water system. We think. Oz has isolated the most likely targets and is attaching their locations here. We haven’t got visual access on any of the locations, so, short of guarding the locations, can you get Pieter to fit some cameras there so you can monitor them? In the meantime, we’ll get the antidote composition to Eugene at the lab, and he can fabricate the amount you’ll need, should the toxin be released.”
She paused for a second, as if thinking of something else.
“Please be careful.” She paused, as if wanting to add something else, but then decided not to.
She clicked off the recording, and swiped to upload it to the system so that Oz could do his thing.
She looked into empty space for a moment.
Paige sat still, not wanting to interrupt her.
Finally, Molly spoke. “We need to talk with Brock.”
Hotel Erwin, downtown Spire
Joel’s holo beeped.
He swiped to see the message. It was an incoming download from Gaitune-67. “We’ve got communication from Molly,” he told Pieter, as he watched the download bar intently.
“Think she’s found the antidote?” Pieter asked, the concern showing across his young face.
“Knowing her,” replied Joel, a modicum of tension releasing from his chest and shoulders as he considered how competent she was with all this.
The bar disappeared as the download opened. He played the voice message, and put it on speaker so that Pieter could hear too. He wanted to show that there were no secrets in their team. Even from a leadership perspective.
As the message played, Joel pulled up the maps and then shared the frame so they could both be looking at it spread across the table.
“These are all at different points in the city,” he said, once the message had ended. “It’s going to take several hours to get around to them all.” He looked up at Pieter. “What do you think about the cameras? Do we need to acquire some more gear?”
Pieter nodded. “Definitely. But I can route them all through this holo easily, and set up an alert every time any motion is sensed-”
Pieter stopped mid-thought.
Joel noticed. “Whatcha thinking?” he asked.
Pieter started speaking slowly. “Well, if someone is going to deploy the toxin, we’ll see where they do it. But after they’ve already done it. By that time, the water is contaminated…”
“And then we get our asses down there to deploy the antidote from the same place.” Joel finished his thought.
“Right,” agreed Pieter quickly. “But that’s less than ideal. What we really want is to be able to stop it from happening.”
Joel straightened up and scratched the back of his head. “Well, short of having someone to guard each point, that’s not going to be possible.”
Pieter became more animated. “What if it were? I mean, you and I could take one point each.” Pieter had a determined look in his eye.
Joel found himself somewhat surprised to see it, but then he had to be responsible. “How much combat training have you had?”
Pieter shrugged. “None. But you can teach me to shoot a gun.”
Joel eyed him carefully. “And if a whole squad shows up?”
Pieter looked unaffected. “Leave me with lots of bullets.”
Pieter’s fearlessness, bordering on the cavalier, reminded Joel of himself when he first signed up to the space marines. Of course, Joel probably had another couple pounds of muscle on him, and, yes, less geekiness, too.
Joel made the only decision he could as a leader.
“I don’t think so,” he told Pieter firmly. “But maybe Ventus has a security detail we can use.”
He pointed again at the map. “Let’s find a place to purchase those cameras fast, and then at least get them deployed. I’ll make a call to Molly’s contact at the research facility, and get things moving there.”
Joel sent the maps over to Pieter to figure out the road trip they were going to have to make. Then he pulled up a holo connection.
“Hi. Is this Eugene? … Great… This is Joel Dunham. I work with Molly Bates. Yes. Yes. I’m here on-planet…”
Chapter 13
Newstainment Offices, downtown Spire
“Maya Johnstone?”
The Ogg approaching her was obviously a cop. His brown atmojacket was civilian, but there was an air about him that screamed law and order.
Maya turned from her desk in her cubicle, a look of recognition in her eyes. “Greeting of the day. Yes. Detective Rogers?” She stood up, and stepped to meet him.
Antonio Rogers held out his hand and they shook hands. Maya thought he was a sturdy character from the firmness of his handshake.
“I have a meeting room booked,” she told him. “Would you like to come in?”
He looked surprised to be treated so efficiently. “Sure,” he smiled.
Maya led the way out of the open-plan office and past the elevators, through to the series of glass-fronted meeting rooms. Ducking in the second door, she welcomed him in and held the door for him.
“Mocha?” she offered.
The detective waved a hand politely and then put it on his middle. “No, no thank you. I’m a bit mocha-ed out today,” he told her.
She smiled. “Yeah, I know that feeling.”
They sat, and the detective pulled up his holo. “So you got my name from…?”
“Doctor Jones, at the district mortuary,” she answered.
He didn’t speak, but gave her space to tell the story. Two sentences in, she was pulling up screens and details, as well as the Ventus employees’ profile pictures, explaining to him everything she knew.
He carefully took notes. “So you think that the guy, David-” he looked down at his notes, but she jumped in.
“David Rek.”
“Rek…” he repeated. “You think he is being held by them, and developing the toxin to be deployed en masse?”
“Yes.” Confidence radiated from her, despite the telltale signs of exhaustion under her eyes.
Rogers shifted in his chair and put his arm on the table next to him. He looked at her, trying to read how she had gotten so far in an investigation where he had come up with nothing.
She suddenly remembered something. “I have something else to tell you…” she added.
Rogers signaled for her to continue.
She pulled up a file on her holo that Johnny had bumped her just before Rogers had arrived.
“It’s the family. Everything seems to be happening as it should: kid going to school, wife going to work.” She opened up pictures of David Rek’s family, head shots and surveillance footage.
She continued. “But Johnny, one of our investigators, says that they seem… anxious. The mother picks the child up from school and hurries home. Other mothers have tried to stop her to talk, but it was like she was in a rush and distracted. Their reactions made it look like it was unexpected. Unusual.”
Rogers looked from the pictures back at Maya. “How do you think this means something?” Rogers was playing devil’s advocate.
Maya picked up on that. It was how Bob had trained her to think critically.
“Well,” she explained, “when someone behaves in a certain way, over time, people get used to it. Johnny told me that these women were reacting. This means that there is a change in behavior somewhere.”
She paused, watching his reaction. “I think Mrs. Rek would normally stand around and talk… but all of a sudden, this isn’t happening.”
Rogers nodded his head a few times, and almost started to smile. This girl was good. He wondered idly if she had an inclination for law enforcement.
“This is very useful intel. Thank you very much, Ms. Johnstone. Would you mind sending those pictures and anything else over to my holo?”
Maya nodded, obligingly. “Not at all,” she told him. “And if there is anything else I can do to help in the investigation, I’m here.” She hesitated, not wanting to sound melodramatic. “If I’m right, we’re all in danger.”
Rogers let the last several minutes of the interview sink in.
“Actually,” he said. “I do have one more thing.”
Maya tilted her head, indicating she was listening, without interrupting him.
“How does your girl in the Dewitt video tie into all this?” he asked. “Other than appearing on that other video. Someone wanted your editor to see the connection. What’s her role in all this? And who would want to expose her?”
Maya smiled to herself. That was such a Bob set of questions. It was moments like this when she deeply appreciated the long hours of mentoring and researching to find the right questions - and answers - that make a story.
She sighed. “Well, all I was able to find was that her name is Molly Bates…”
Rogers didn’t react.
What Maya didn’t notice was that he had checked himself, making sure he didn’t show any signs of recognizing the name.
He knew exactly who Molly Bates was. But he wasn’t ready to let the press know that.
Or that the police department hadn’t made the connection.
Maya was still talking. “… and she authored a paper on exactly how to create a toxin by genetically manipulating the Yultok plant’s DNA. It’s one of the projects that Ventus could be working on. It’s difficult to tell exactly what they’re studying - their research departments and grants are pretty vague-sounding.”
Rogers wondered briefly if she was single.
Maya continued her discourse. “But, anyway, I think she, and potentially these others on the video, are working for the terrorists, in some capacity. How she was able to walk out of there with all that equipment, though… it makes it look like there is even potentially something going on within the ranks of Ventus. Otherwise, why would those scientists in the video be helping her?”
Her eyes seemed pained at the possibility of a conspiracy to hurt so many people. Rogers felt the compassion in her voice.
He nodded sympathetically. “Yes, it certainly looks like this from the footage. But you’re right. It’s interesting that they would leave through the front door in daylight. Something is certainly going on, and we will investigate.”
Maya looked like she was going to ask a question, but she stopped herself.
Rogers thought he could probably guess what she was thinking. “Look, I know this is hard… you’re onto a potentially explosive story. But this, what you’ve been digging into, it’s dangerous. And I’m not just talking about the toxin, but that is another reason to stay well away from this.”
Maya nodded her understanding.
He spoke gently. “You have to leave this with us, now. I really appreciate you sharing all your hard work and discoveries with me, but you need to let us take it from here. Do you understand?”
He found himself wishing he could explain to her everything he and Chaakwa had discovered before he was reassigned. Intel not just about Molly Bates, but also about the people she was going up against. But that, he feared, would only put her in more danger.
He waited for her to confirm she would leave the rest of the investigation to the police, and then stood up and shook her hand. Maya walked him down to the elevators and waved him off.
He knows more than he is letting on, she thought to herself as the doors of the elevator closed on their conversation. And damn if she was going to sit back and wait for someone else to get to the bottom of this. Her life, and the lives of all her friends and relatives in this town, were on the line.
She wandered back to her desk, deep in thought about what her next move should be.
Spire Central Water Facility, Hlidargata
Joel sighed as he and Pieter hopped out of the car with their gear.
“Last one!” he announced.
Pieter repeated his statement of the obvious. “Last one.” Pieter was tired. They’d been running around for the last eight hours, sourcing cameras and fitting them to monitor the vulnerable locations. He wasn’t used to this much activity, and part of him felt a little foolish for suggesting he might have been able to defend one of these sites from an attack.
Joel received a call on his holo.
They kept walking to the area just off the main site as he answered it. This last location was an exposed pipe outside of the perimeter. Infiltrating these facilities had required all the tech kung fu Pieter could muster.
Joel started talking on his holo. “Hi. Eugene?”
“Hi, Joel. Yes, it’s me. I’ve got good news and bad news. Good news is, we’re all set to start producing the antidote just as soon as we receive the formula from Molly.”
Joel waited half a second before asking, “…and the bad news?”
Eugene’s voice wasn’t as confident this time. “The bad news is, the ‘powers that be’ in the company won’t authorize our use of security personnel.”
Joel reacted, but Eugene couldn’t see his face on a voice call.
He continued quickly. “I think their reasons are partly genuine. You see, those two people that took the toxins in the first place… they were compromised in some way. And the thinking is, if they can get to our scientists, they can damn well get to our security personnel. So, by extension, putting security on anything will only potentially let the terrorist know what we know, and would actually not help us protect the site, either.”
Joel nodded. “Yes, I see their point.” He looked over at Pieter, shaking his head. “Okay, so we’ll be done over here in a few minutes. We’ll come straight to the lab, and see if we can’t figure out our next move. Expect us in about forty minutes.”
“Okay,” said Eugene. “Stay safe.” The line clicked off.
Pieter handed Joel the first miniature camera to place as they approached their site. “No joy?” Pieter asked.
Joel turned the camera and fixture in his hands, examining the mechanism. “Not on the security front. They’re good to go on replicating the antidote, though. That’s something, at least.”
Pieter nodded. “So we’re back to you and I guarding the most likely sites, then?”
Joel drew a deep breath. “Yeah, it’s looking like that.” He stopped in his tracks and looked around. “Although… you know what?”
Pieter looked around, trying to see what Joel was seeing.
Joel continued. “Of the three places we’ve been, which is the easiest to access?”
Pieter blinked. “Well. This one, I guess.”
Joel raised a finger in the air, the camera grasped in his hand. “Exactly!”
Pieter spun around, looking for signs of the facility monitoring the area. He looked down at his holo to search for any signals that might be being broadcasting. A moment later, he said, “Looks clean. I think we’ve found our target.”
Joel found a floodlight post that was pointing back towards the facility. Taking the mini camera, he reached up to fix it to the post.
Before his hand could touch the post though, something moved behind the structure and knocked him backwards. Unable to move with a dead weight on top of him, and the wind knocked out of his lungs, Joel kicked into attack mode.
Camera now forgotten, rolling off the dust and hard grass, he clenched his fists and forced the weight off him. Realizing it was a man - a very heavy, muscular man - he felt he had lucked out. Pulling his right arm back to swing a punch, he pushed the man off his chest just enough to be able to swing at him.
His fist connected with his attacker’s jaw so hard, he felt like he had punched a metal bar. The man’s head turned, but his weight still pinned Joel.
For a moment, Joel was vaguely aware of Pieter shouting his name in the background. He pulled his left leg over the right leg of the man on top of him, and pulled it inwards while pushing off with his right hip. A second later, he had flipped the dense mass onto his side, and was able to scramble out from under him.
Joel was in full attack mode now. “Who the fuck are you? Who do you work for?” he demanded. He clamped his left hand around the man’s throat, half his body weight behind him.
The man was tattooed. Military. Joel subconsciously recognized one of the tattoos. He pulled his right hand back to punch him again, and thwacked down on the guy.
The man, though built like a tank, took the punch, and his head lolled. Joel reached back into his utility belt and pulled out his weapon.
“Wait!” the man shouted, as loudly as he could from his half concussed state. His pupils weren’t even. “Wait…” he said again, but with less force and more surrender.
Joel stopped.
“What?” he shouted down at him.
“Joel? You’re Joel, right?” the man choked. “Molly’s Joel?”
“What about it?” Joel scowled.
“I’m Sean.”
Joel slowed, and released his hand from his throat a little. “Is that supposed to mean something?” he asked, still not understanding how this man knew him.
Sean gasped. “Molly didn’t tell you?”
Joel felt a pang of pain in his heart. His brain was confused. What was happening?
“Sean,” the guy said. “I came to see Molly the other day. I was on your ship. I gave her intel; we’re working together.”
“Son of a fucking bitch.” Joel shook his head, his heart feeling like it’d been crushed inside his chest.
“Sorry, man,” Sean said, realizing that Joel didn’t know about him. “She didn’t tell you? I’m working undercover for Garet’s office.”
Joel started to climb off the guy. “No. She must have forgotten to mention it.” Though he was mad about not being in on the loop, in the same moment, he felt his depth of feeling for her. This was a work thing. It had boundaries. But, he wondered, what about when it’s a personal thing? He couldn’t think straight. Focus on the task at hand, he told himself.
Pieter helped Sean to his feet as Joel straightened himself out after the mini-brawl. “Okay, so you’re also trying to stop this toxin from being deployed,” Joel asked him, still eyeing him a little suspiciously.
Sean dusted himself off. “Yes. I couldn’t figure out what you were doing, but since you were pointing that device at the pipe that would be the sensible target, I assumed you were up to no good.” He rearranged his atmojacket, looking sheepish. “Sorry for tackling you like that.”
Sean offered out his hand. “No hard feelings?”
Joel took the hand, making an effort to hide his suspicion. “Yeah… Yeah. No hard feelings.”
Pieter recovered the camera from the ground, and held it in his open palm to show Sean. “Camera,” he said simply, and shrugged, before moving back towards the post where Joel was going to fit it.
Sean shook his head, with a small smile. “Guess I was just hyper sensitive.” He straightened his atmosuit jacket again, and dusted off the lower half of his legs. The ground was sandy and grassy, just like most of the wild parts of the planet. “I’m Sean Royale, by the way.”
“Joel Dunham,” Joel said, a little more grudgingly than he would have hoped to sound. He tried to brighten his voice a little. “This is Pieter Alexander, our new computer specialist. He was going to link up these cameras to give us an alert if anyone showed up here.”
Pieter and Sean shook hands.
“Tech. Good thinking!” said Sean. “I was going the old-fashioned route, and guarding the most likely target,” he confessed.
Pieter and Joel looked at each other. “Great minds!” said Pieter, smiling.
Joel decided to move proceedings on. “Okay, let’s get this camera up, and then we need to get to the lab. Might have an antidote ready soon.”
Pieter turned back and continued fitting it to the post.
Joel opened his holo and nodded to Sean. “Gimme a sec. Just need to check in with the boss.”
Joel wandered away off back in the direction of the car. He started recording a message. “Molly, Joel. I’m at the Hlidargata site, and a Sean Royale has just shown up, claiming to know you. Can you just give me a quick message to let me know that this is one of your contacts? It looks like he’s going to be guarding the post, but I’m wary about leaving him alone unless you have intel that would suggest otherwise.”
He clicked off, marking the message urgent, and sent it to their server.
Hopefully she’ll pick it up right away and respond.
He wandered back over to Sean and Pieter. Sean was chatting with Pieter, as he watched him fit the camera.
Sean looked impressed. “Antidote. That’s fantastic.”
He thought for a second. “So Molly is creating it?” he asked.
“Yeah,” confirmed Joel, joining the conversation. “She doesn’t mess around.” He smiled, proud of his teammate. “Hey, is there a way we can reach you, as we’re working on this?”
Sean explained about his secure server and shared the coordinates. Meanwhile, Pieter finished installing the camera and powered up the interface with the camera.
“All working,” he announced.
Joel nodded at a job well done. “Right. That’s us then,” he said, and shook Sean’s hand again. “Good luck with the guarding. We’ll be in touch when we have the antidote and kit for deploying, in case the toxin is released.”
Sean, shaking Joel’s hand with genuine respect, bid them both farewell, and disappeared off out of sight again. Joel and Pieter turned and headed back across the grassy plain to the car.
“Nice guy,” said Pieter. “You really didn’t know anything about him?”
Joel shook his head. “Nope. But you’ll learn this about Molly: A to B. And Sean wasn’t in the A to B we talked about, so she probably didn’t even think to mention it.”
Pieter wasn’t sure, but even though Joel was matter-of-fact about how things were with Molly, Pieter sensed a hint of hurt in his voice.
They got back in the car and drove off. Just around the corner, though, Joel pulled over.
Pieter looked over at him. “We’re stopping?”
Joel made a face. “Of course. You think I’m going to leave some random commando guarding our target without checking it out?”
Pieter shook his head, realizing what had just happened. “Ah, right. You put in a call to the boss?”
Joel smiled. “Hellz yeah.”
Just then, a message came through on his holo.
“Speak of the devil,” he said, winking at Pieter. Joel opened the message. It was text only.
SEAN OK. LET HIM HELP.
Pieter peered over at Joel’s screen. “Lady of few words,” he commented.
“I’ll say,” agreed Joel. “Okay, we’re good. Let’s leave him to it, but be aware.”
Joel started the car again, and headed off to the main road out of the area.
Newstainment Offices, downtown Spire
Maya sat at her desk, isolated by her cubicle walls. Her workstation was dimly lit as she wracked her brain, trying to figure out the missing pieces.
Since Detective Rogers’ visit, there was something bugging her.
Even apart from realizing that he knew more than he was sharing, there was something else. He didn’t seem to have jumped on the conspiracy thing about Ventus… which meant one of several things: he didn’t think it was a possibility; he was working for Ventus himself, and wanted to keep the heat off them; or he knew something about why Bates would have been there.
There was no doubt he thought that she was getting into something dangerous. Beyond the toxin, he said. That pointed to conspiracy. And him knowing more than he was letting on.
Maybe this Bates girl was the dangerous person; but she didn’t look it. Not walking around in broad daylight, being helped by two scientists, with another, younger girl in tow.
Then there was the Dewitt footage. She had knocked on the door. Assassins don't normally knock.
Maya turned her attention back to the download of the thesis Johnny had managed to track down for her. Maybe there was something in the science she was missing.
As she flipped open the 300-page report, she briefly recognized that most of her colleagues would have been put off even by the front page. Science was so core to their life here at Newstainment, and yet it always surprised her how reluctant folks were to get into the details that would often yield so much truth.
She started reading, skimming over the abstract. Then she flipped to the graphs in the main method section. After about twenty minutes of reading, she felt she had an idea of the process Bates used. Not that she was a scientist. Heck, she could barely wire a circuit. But conceptually, she got it.
Now to consider the motivation for such a piece. She flipped back to the introduction and scanned for narrative. Was it for industry, and therefore financially motivated? Was it a prestigious area to be researching? She didn’t think so. New genetics wasn’t cutting edge, and hadn’t been for over a hundred years… But there was something she was missing.
She flipped back to Molly’s resume. It seemed she was only sixteen when she wrote this. Which meant she was gifted and talented. And doing bio chem. That stank of social isolation and over-achievement. But what would motivate a 16-year-old to create dangerous toxins? Her parents were still alive, so it was unlikely she had been trying to find a way to kill them…
She flicked back a few pages, feeling she’d missed something. Her eyes fell on a passage that changed everything.
“Complacency in the field of new genetics is rife. There is very little regulation or ethical consideration when it comes to genetic manipulation of living creatures. The purpose of this paper is to show that this process, with the wrong intentions, could bring great harm to humanity. This is a demonstration that greater care and consideration should be exercised in performing such manipulations. Just because it can be done, doesn’t mean it should. To this end I will use the garden variety Yultok plant, and show that within two manipulations, the nectar can be rendered more toxic to life than any artificial poison on the commercial market.”
Maya highlighted the passage on her screen, and sat back in her chair, considering the psychology behind the child who had written that.
She was a fighter, Maya could see that much. Bates was trying to demonstrate, even as a child, that there is some science that needs to be operated with more conscience. In a field where pushing boundaries was the measure of a scientist, a measure that would bring fame and recognition, she was delivering a very clear warning.
Maya was impressed.
She reached for her mocha cup, only to find it lighter than she expected. She peered over the edge. Empty. Saving her notes on her holo, she got up and took her mug to the kitchenette for a fresh mug.
Mulling what she had just read, this new information made it incredibly unlikely that Bates was a terrorist, or even being paid by one.
Unless she’s taking the warning in her thesis one step further… To make a demonstration. But then, why all the experiments? And why hasn’t something been done on a larger scale yet? Or all those years ago… Unless there’s been a recent stressor.
Maya shook her head. She didn’t get the sense that Molly was one of the bad guys. She took a sip of the fresh mocha, and wandered back to her desk, talking into her holo, sharing her suspicions and new findings.
When she was done, she hit send.
VOICE MSG SENT TO DETECTIVE ROGERS, the holo confirmed.
He needed to know what she knew; even if he wasn’t being fully open with her. And if he was in on it, then at least he would know that the press was onto him…
She sent the same message to Bob, and archived it in her notes, invoking the standard practices the company enforced to keep their investigators safe and silencers deterred.
She sat back down at her desk to continue her investigation. This was all getting rather interesting.
Chapter 14
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Basement workshop
Molly strode into the workshop, closely followed by Paige. Brock and Crash were battling with boxes of equipment, sorting and organizing.
Brock signaled to the boxes nearest Crash. “I think if we put those in storage, and just keep the storage accessible, we’ll be fine,” he said. “But these… I think these need organizing straight away. There are a bunch of photon cells I’ve been waiting for, and the tracking is saying they’ve been delivered.”
He looked up at the door as Molly and Paige entered.
Crash started hauling another box out of the way.
“Hey!” Brock called. His smile brightened upon seeing his teammates, until he saw their serious looks.
His first thought was that Molly didn’t like his and Paige’s little nail varnish plan. “Everything okay?” he asked, wiping his hands on his overall legs nervously.
Molly answered, “Yes. We have the antidote being made right now, but we need to figure out a mechanism to deploy it.” She walked over to the array of boxes and unassembled equipment. “Are you able to drop everything to jump on this?” she asked.
Brock showed signs of relief. “Sure!”
He waved to Crash, who shook his head smiling. “Knew you’d end up leaving all this shit with me,” he said, shuffling a box towards a storage room with his foot.
“Baby boy, you know I’ll make it up to you!” Brock did his fairy dust wave and wiggled his fingers. Crash couldn’t help but grin, even if he did blush a little bit at his comrade’s unconventional mannerisms.
Brock turned and walked over to the second new set of benches they’d managed to erect in the last few days. Molly and Paige followed. “So what’s the design brief?” he asked, opening his holo to take notes.
Molly reeled off the spec. “It needs to deploy at least two kilograms of the water-soluble fluid that we create. It will need to fit into post-filtrated water channels… but I don’t know enough about the inner-construction of the waterways there.”
Brock looked up from his notes. “You’re thinking it’s going to need to be a custom job?”
Molly shook her head. “No. I think that is too risky. If they’ve replaced any parts from the original design specs, we’re completely screwed.”
She pulled up a stool and sat at the bench. “I think our best bet is to get an idea of the dimensions we have to play with, or find out what the material is around that area, and see if we can breach it safely.”
She thought for a moment. “Then create something that has a time release, semi-permeable membrane.”
Brock stepped back half a step and bent his knees to emphasize his shock. “Shit, boss. You don’t ask for much!”
Still, his heart was beating harder, and excitement was welling in his chest. Molly could tell he was secretly relishing the challenge.
She smiled. “Good that I’ve got the best guy on the asteroid for the job!”
Brock smiled and nodded in acknowledgement, and then realized that he was probably the only rocket scientist on the asteroid. “Hey!”
Paige laughed at his delayed reaction.
Brock scrambled to find something witty to say back, his mouth half-open. “Well…” he searched his brain some more. “Well…“ then finally, “Okay. I got nothing.”
Paige sniggered playfully. He glared across at her in mock anger. “Girlfriend, you’re meant to be on my side!”
She corrected him, shaking her head, her hair bouncing around her face. “Oh no, boy-o. I’m always on the boss’s side!” She laughed, “and she got you good there.”
Molly was enjoying the conversation, but had to move things along. “So how long?” she asked.
Brock composed himself. “To design and build?”
“No. Just design. If we send the schematics to our new guy on the surface, then he can have it built there. We haven’t got time to physically transport something. It’s bad enough we can only send downloadable data pockets.”
“New guy?” he asked.
Molly nodded. “Yeah, Joel just hired a computer guy.” She got up from the stool.
Brock had a rare look of confusion on his face. “Why do we need another computer guy? I thought you and Oz were da business?”
She smiled. “We are! Well, kinda. But there are limitations. Plus, as you can see, there are instances where having computing ability in another body is a useful thing. Like when we need boots on another planet.” She winked, content that their hiring decision was already panning out nicely.
“Ahh, yes,” Brock agreed. “That makes sense.” He paused a moment, contemplating the task at hand. Flicking through his holo he arrived at a conclusion. “I think if I can get the schematics of the water plant fairly fast, I can have something for you in a few hours.”
Paige raised her eyebrows. She would have expected it to take much longer. Molly looked happy, too. “Excellent, thank you,” she said, and started walking away. “Oz has already downloaded the schematics for the three plants onto your holo. Should save you an hour.”
Brock looked like the carpet had just been pulled from under him. “Does that mean I have one hour less to complete this task?” he called anxiously after her.
He looked down at the download hitting his holo.
Molly didn’t answer, just kept walking.
“Okay. Got the download. On it, boss!” he called after her.
She turned, gave him a thumbs up and a wink, taking a couple of steps backwards, and then turned around again, and disappeared out of the door.
Paige walked after her, her high heels clicking away.
Unknown Laboratory, Undisclosed location, somewhere around Spire
The clinical, dimly-lit lab buzzed with artificial light and gently humming machines. A small team of three scientists in lab coats and protective masks worked steadily and methodically, despite the late hour.
The two round devices were on one of the side benches, just waiting to be charged with their deadly fluid. The scientist nearest the humming machine checked the settings and signaled to the other two that it was nearly ready.
The other two started clearing up the numerous samples and materials they had been using that night. The shorter one pulled up his holo and sent a message, then nodded to the one watching him.
Without any words necessary for communication, they worked like a hive mind. A couple of minutes went past, and the humming machine stopped. The scientists gathered around the oven-like device, as the one who had been monitoring it opened the door.
Inside was a circular rack of test tubes on a carousel, each one filled with a deep green liquid. The first scientist carefully pulled out the array, backed up slowly and then placed it on the bench. Then one of the others took one side of it, and helped the first scientist carry it over to the bench with the two devices on it.
They placed the rack down gently, then the three scientists started delicately and slowly taking the test tubes, one-by-one, and pouring the liquid into the first device.
When they had gone through a requisite number, they switched, and filled the second device before cleaning up.
It wasn’t long before they heard footsteps down the corridor.
Heavy footsteps.
From feet wearing combat boots.
The footsteps grew louder. The scientists had stopped what they were doing to watch the double doors to their lab.
A figure emerged. He was wearing a black atmosuit with reinforced armor plating, and a helmet used in biking or pod racing. From his height and build, he must have been Estarian.
The lead scientist stepped over to the devices and waved his hand at the stranger. The helmeted figure stepped over to them, swinging a bag from his back, and picked up each device in turn and placed it in the carrier. The scientist couldn’t help but notice that the bag was a hazardous materials container, with a foam interior that would hold and protect the two devices.
Once the figure had sealed up the bag, he turned and left.
The scientists continued their clean up, now with more gusto and less caution.
Chapter 15
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Molly’s lab
The machine in Molly’s lab stopped humming. Paige looked up from her holo. She had been waiting in the lab while Molly took a rest. Amusing herself with the last three months’ of Vanity Magazine, she couldn’t help but daydream about a full-page spread of beautiful photography for her new line of nail varnish.
Now, alone in the lab, with the machine that was humming having stopped, she looked at the door. She wanted to yell for Molly, but she could be anywhere.
She started to get down from her stool, when Molly practically ran into the lab.
“I think your -” Paige started.
“I know. Oz told me.” Molly walked past the device to a drawer. Pulling out two masks, she threw one to Paige and took one herself. Then she pulled out a pair of lab gloves and put them on, too.
Paige quickly put the mask on herself. She really wasn’t keen to be exposed to anything, but her curiosity stopped her from leaving.
Molly walked over to the oven-like device, flicked a couple of switches, and then opened it up to haul out her test tubes.
“What is it?” Paige asked, watching as Molly carefully moved the rack over to the bench where her microscope was.
“One of these is the antidote,” Molly reported. “Now I need to discover which one.”
Paige continued watching, her holo now forgotten. “How will you know?” she asked.
“By combining each one with the toxin in turn, and seeing which one reacts. Then I’ll have Oz analyze the chemical make-up, and send the result to Eugene.”
“Sounds like we’re almost there, then.” Paige looked genuinely relieved.
“Yeah. There’s a little work still to do, but barring any disasters, we should be okay.” Molly hadn’t looked up. She was busy making up the first combination to look at.
Paige remembered her holo and was about to close it down when something caught her eye.
It was Molly’s name. On a downloaded news report. Paige clicked into it. She read a few lines and then called over to Molly. “Hey, I know you’re busy and all… saving the world.”
She hesitated, trying to read what the report was saying about Molly. “But you’re in the news again. Something about being associated with the two scientists that have gone AWOL with a toxin…”
Molly looked up. “Let me finish this,” she said, using all her willpower to stay focused, and not march over to the holo and find out what was being said about her.
Molly got to a stopping place, and then ripped off her rubber gloves as she marched across the lab to where Paige was sitting, reading. “Show me,” she demanded.
Paige turned the holo screen to her. “Says you’ve been consorting with a faction within Ventus. They’re saying you’re the cause of the toxin, and they’ve related the violent incidents to the use of the toxin. They’re calling them ‘acts of terrorism’.”
Molly’s eyes flicked back and forth as she read the details. Eventually, she looked up. “At least they’ve made the connection between the toxin and the violent outbreaks. Seems they haven’t linked the deaths to the violence yet. But that won’t take much time.”
Molly turned and went back to the other side of the room to continue her work.
Paige watched her, mouth open. “Aren’t you concerned that they’re saying you’re involved?”
Molly answered flatly, “I am involved.”
Paige protested, “Yeah, but you’re trying to save their sorry asses. You’re not a terrorist.”
Molly didn’t even look up. “Yeah, they’ll figure that out, or they won’t.”
Paige’s chest was flushing deep red. “But… aren’t you worried? Or pissed?”
Molly looked up, confused. “Why would I be?”
Paige’s eyes were wide with outrage. “But they’re getting it all wrong. They think you’re the bad guy.”
Molly sighed. “Maybe I am,” she said flippantly without any emotion. Then as if needing to indulge her friend, she explained. “Paige. It’s the media. No one expects them to get it right. And anyway, we’re here on Gaitune. What are they going to do?”
Paige’s face seemed to process one hundred emotions as she tried to churn through the reasoning. Unable to come up with an answer, she sighed. “It’s just… so unfair.” Her voice was a little weak.
Molly looked up. “You okay, pet?” she asked, humorously.
Paige laughed a little as she exhaled, through her frustration and mixed emotions. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine.” She paused, closing down the holo report. “Need me to do anything?” she asked.
“Ah, yes. Can you go find out how Brock is getting on with the device? If he’s ready, we can send both items in the same data package.”
Paige nodded. “Right you are, boss.” She clip-clopped out of the room, leaving Molly to work through the twenty something combinations as fast as she safely could.
Anther Patron Club, downtown Spire
Jessica was already installed in their booth in the Anther Patron Club. Since it was the middle of the day, she was the only customer in the joint. Two members of the bar staff flitted around, restocking. Cleaning. Organizing. Then there was the lady on the reception desk upstairs to redirect non-members to the official bar.
As she sat nursing her martini, Jessica churned through holoscreens of documents needing her authorization. This was the part of the job she had never liked. Her normally pretty eyebrows furrowed crossly at the documents as she turned through each, approving or denying as she saw fit. Every now and again, she would humph, or sigh, or take a medicinal taste of the motivating martini.
Eventually, after goodness knows how many damn approvals, footsteps in the corridor enticed her to look up. They were sharp and decisive, traveling somewhere rather than flitting.
Andus. Finally.
She closed her holo as he appeared and approached their booth.
“Not like you to keep a lady waiting,” she said, getting up to greet him with an exchange of air kisses on each side of a distant embrace. “I thought I was going to be subjected to death by paperwork,” she complained.
He nodded with a degree of deference, even though they both knew he was the one with the power. “Apologies. I was detained unexpectedly,” he explained as he slid into the booth.
Jessica visually scanned him for signs of blood or violence. She knew the kind of business that would detain him, and paperwork wasn’t one of them.
The waiter arrived promptly to take his drink order.
“Scotch, on the rocks,” he told the waiter, an Ogg, who nodded and disappeared.
Jessica eyed him, still curious about what he’d been up to, but Andus was straight down to business.
“Everything is in order,” he told her. “You should have the support you need to get the contract. Between the erm… crisis, and the support in the Senate, it should be enough to get you a majority.”
Jessica gave him a half smile. “Thank you. This is good to hear.”
He continued, glancing quickly over his shoulder just to make sure they were alone. “I’m concerned about your plans for affecting the crisis, though. You’re leaving yourself a little… exposed… by handling it directly.”
She tilted her chin upwards. “I know I can trust myself to get it done.” Her voice was proud. “And I’ll make sure there are no loose ends left over.”
Andus nodded, “I have every confidence you will”. His drink arrived, and he raised a glass to her. “To getting the job done,” he toasted before taking a sip.
Jessica did the same with what remained of her martini.
The bar was quiet.
They could hear the hum of traffic outside, but inside, all was still. Calm. It reminded Jessica of her childhood - inside a quiet house, when everything noteworthy was happening outside.
Andus paused for a moment, allowing the flavor of his Scotch to spread through his mouth, and the aroma to travel up into the back of his nose. He breathed deep, relaxing into the calm atmosphere. “You should probably use that second device,” he told her. “Use the scientist first, as the decoy. Put a second man on the job. Otherwise, it’s just all too… obvious.”
Jessica glanced back in his direction, a look of admiration in her eyes. She considered his words. “You may have a good point.” She watched him over her glass as she took another sip of her martini. ”I love how it is art to you. Or a game.”
“Or both,” he smiled wryly. He raised his glass again before taking another sip.
Andus suddenly turned in his seat and looked around the bar.
He had been noticing that one of the staff kept coming within earshot. He started talking about an event they had been at the other week, and for the next five minutes they sat and mused about nothing in particular. When the employee came close again, Andus surreptitiously took his picture with his retinal imaging implant, and sent the image to his holo.
Jessica knew something was off as soon as he had changed the subject, and just sat quietly, playing along.
Running a facial rec, Andus decided it was nothing to be concerned about. Just an attentive barman wanting an opportunity for a tip, he decided.
He changed the subject back to the matter at hand. “So how does any of this solve my Molly Bates problem?”
Jessica smiled. She liked it when she got to be clever.
“Well,” she began, a little like a child about to tell her father about something that happened at school. “Our newly acquired scientist has managed to fabricate a particularly tricky version of a specific type of toxin that no one in this field has ever done before. There are no other companies investing in this type of R&D, so not only does that mean there is no real competition for that grant, but we can turn that R&D cost we’ve already sunk into this department into a major profit center…”
She waited, making sure she had Mr. Andus’s full attention. “But the toxin we’re using points straight back to your girl, Ms. Bates.”
Jessica noticed he leaned in just a fraction. “How so?” he asked.
She could barely contain her excitement beneath her well-controlled and well-contrived exterior. “Turns out, she wrote her thesis using the exact methodology that created these toxins in the first place. Aaaand” she paused, relishing how perfect the set up was, “no one is going to go on record to claim responsibility for the toxins, because they violated all kinds of conventions by creating them. She’s the only person on record with the know-how to cause this kind of crisis.”
A smirk floated across Andus’s lips. “Amazing, how it turns out that she wrote her thesis in this area.”
He paused, considering it from all angles. “Coincidence?” he asked.
Jessica was pleased that he was impressed. “The media is going to say not. And then of course, that’s what everyone is going to believe.”
Andus couldn’t help himself. He found power in the details, and now this was a detail he wanted to know - like a fellow magician wanting to know how the trick was done. “But is it? Really?”
Jessica dared not toy with him longer. She’d had her fun. “Well, slightly. It’s more that the drugs we were developing also work against the kind of toxin she was dabbling with. There were a number of applications we pursued, but the one with the most potential just didn’t have the profit margins we were hoping for. As an antidote to this type of toxin, it suddenly became a worthwhile project again.”
He nodded, before picking up his drink. “That’s very enterprising of you, Miss Jessica. Very enterprising, indeed.”
Jessica couldn’t help but smile. “Why, thank you, Mr. Andus.”
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Basement workshop
Paige traipsed into the workshop.
Crash was still sorting through materials and boxes of deliveries. He looked up and waved and Paige waved back at him, en route to the benches where Brock was working, hunched over his holo.
“Hey, girlie!” he greeted her, his attention still on the holoscreen, voice only half-present.
Paige pulled up a stool and peered over at the complex array of lines and symbols on his holo screens. “How’s it going?” she asked.
“It goes good,” he said, leaning back a little but still not taking his eyes from the screen.
“Nearly done?” she asked.
Brock lifted his eyes and sighed. “Yeah. I think it’s as ready as it’s going to be. I’ve checked and double-checked it… If I had more time, and the materials, I’d build it myself before sending it on for someone else to build.”
Paige looked at him, and put her hand flat on the bench for emphasis. “I’m sure it’s going to be just fine.”
Brock smiled. “Molly ready for it, then?”
She nodded. “Want to send it up to her?”
Brock shook his head, said “Yeah,” and then quickly mouthed “no!” still shaking his head.
Paige laughed.
Brock flicked to a different screen. “Okay. Lemme just add in a few notes to whoever is going to be building it. I’m sure there are probably some pieces that can be streamlined as they go.” He scratched the back of his head in a fast movement looking at the screen. “And I’m sure I’ve probably over-engineered it.” He shook his head. “I’ll get it up to her in two ticks of a whisker’s tail.”
Paige raised one eyebrow at his bizarre expression.
He felt her looking at him, looked up, grinned, and then went back to work.
Paige got up. “Okay. I’ll let her know. Two ticks of a whisker’s tail.”
Brock was immersed in the screen again. “Thanks,” he mumbled as she left to report back to the lab.
Chapter 16
Newstainment offices, downtown Spire
It was late.
Much later than she expected Bob to be around. Yet something told her to head in, anyway.
Walking through the dimly lit corridors her motion activated the lights to come on, one section at a time, all the way to the open-plan office.
She strode past her desk, throwing her atmojacket on the back of the chair, barely breaking her step on her way up to Bob’s office.
His light was still on, and yes, he was at his desk. As she approached, she realized he was looking up, into the corner. Through the windowed glass, she got a little closer and saw a figure of a woman. She wasn’t dressed in normal clothing. No atmos protective gear. Almost like she didn’t go outside ever. Her coat was big and cloth-like… not the dust resistant suits everyone else wore.
Maybe she was rich, thought Maya. And important. The way she held herself, certainly said something. Plus she was native Estarian, so it was entirely plausible. Her back was to the window, so she couldn’t see her face.
Maya ducked back a little, hoping that her arrival didn’t draw their attention. She couldn’t hear anything from where she was on the newsroom floor, amidst the empty desks and cubicles.
She hesitated, trying to decide what to do.
Maybe she should just go in? But then, she wasn’t really meant to be here. And it was obvious they were in a meeting. And perhaps meeting this late at night meant they didn’t want anyone else to know.
She took a few, careful steps backwards, and then paced quietly back to her desk. Head down, so as not to be seen over her cubicle partition, she opened her holo so that it looked like she was working.
She flicked a daylight lamp on and then carefully adjusted the luminosity and temperature right down… just in case she had to explain her presence. Sitting in the dark looked more suspicious than sitting in the half light working.
Who is that woman? she asked herself. And why does she look familiar?
Maya, ever the investigative journalist, couldn’t resist it. It was none of her business.
Heck, Bob might have a girlfriend.
Or something.
She shook the trailing notion from her head before it had a chance to form fully, and to lead her to images she did not want to be imagining.
Some things you just can’t unthink, she warned herself.
But…
She pulled up the security cameras on her holo. She didn’t have privileges, but she’d learned Bob’s passwords long ago. Typing in his ID, she clicked through to get a better look.
No audio.
Just video feed.
Drulludeli, she cursed to herself.
But maybe she could find out who this woman was from her image. She spun the view round to capture an image of her face, then took the screen shot on her holo.
Engrossed in the hunt now, she pulled up the facial rec software, and ran the face as an analysis sample. It would be quicker working with just ten points, rather than the full twenty-two.
She just needed a clue…
She waited.
The holo pinged softly.
Five results.
She opened each profile.
Two were too old.
And one was a criminal, and probably in prison still. She swiped them away.
She zoomed in on the other two options and compared them by eye. Yep, that was the one she was looking for, and this definitely made sense for her to be in Bob’s office.
Jessica Newld, head of Iantrogen. She also sits on the Medical Association Board. If she knew what was going on with these outbreaks that probably linked with the toxins, then the odds were her company was behind it.
So why would she be here? In person? And risking exposure?
Maya stealthily peeked up over her cubicle partition. The woman was looking like she was about to leave. Maya sat down again, and looked at her holo screens.
Jessica, Jessica, Jessica, she thought. What are you up to?
She heard the office door open. Swiping her holo screens closed, she pulled up some insignificant random files in case anyone came past this way. She could hear the sound of Jessica’s high heels tapping along on the floor between the two departments in the sea of cubicles.
Maya kept her head down.
She smelled Jessica’s perfume waft past.
Maya noticed it smelled expensive.
And bitchy.
Carefully she started to stand up to peek over the partition, to see if Bob was still there.
“Working late?”
Maya jumped out of her skin.
It was a woman’s voice.
And there was Jessica Newld right in front of her. Maya, frozen, her eyes breast level, peeled her eyes upwards to confront Jessica’s commanding stare.
Maya’s mouth dried instantly. “Hi,” her voice cracked. Her holo was still live and, though she was doing nothing wrong, she felt guilty as all fuck.
Chill the heck out, she told herself.
She swallowed.
“I said, are you working late?” Jessica asked her question again.
Maya stuttered, still taken aback by the sudden appearance of Bitch-Perfume at her cubicle. “Er… Y-y-yes.” She forced herself to breathe. “No rest for the wicked!”
Of course, she thought, Jessica the evil queen of Iantrogen would know about that, though.
Jessica raised one eyebrow and looked down her nose at the young thing in front of her. “So I see. I admire your tenacity. Careful it doesn’t wear you into the ground, though.”
Her casual comment somehow sounded completely like a threat.
Maya nodded, completely flummoxed.
The ice queen tilted her head slightly upwards in disregard. After a brief pause she then turned and walked away, the sounds of her heels clip-clopping in the wake of her presence.
Maya breathed out.
Fuck me. Bitch perfume, bitch face, and bitch threats, she thought to herself. This motherfucker is definitely up to something.
Gathering her wits with the herald of Jessica’s shoes confirming she was now out of the office and onto the carpeted corridor, Maya closed off her holo and marched up to Bob’s office for some answers.
She knocked on the door.
Bob had disappeared behind his desk drawer, pouring a drink. “Come in…” he called wearily, as if he assumed it was her. He sat up at his desk, tumbler in hand, and placed it on top of an old paper leaflet he kept just for that purpose.
Maya looked at the glass. “You know you can get antigrav tumblers now. Means you don’t need to keep old fashioned relics around to protect your desk surface.” She smiled, trying to lighten his mood.
He looked exhausted. His eyes were dark, and baggier than usual. His normally deep blue skin was now gray from fatigue.
She checked her holo. It was 02:07.
“So what does the head of Evil Corp want with you - the editor-in-chief of our capital’s most influential media outlet - at two in the morning?”
Bob sighed. “I don’t suppose there is any point in lying to you?” he asked her, already knowing the answer.
“You know me, boss,” Maya grinned despite her own tiredness. “Trained by the best.”
He nodded, knowing full well she would dig until she found the truth - whether he told her or not.
He took a deep breath before looking down at his whiskey glass, eyeing it like foul medicine. “She had information about why this toxin is out.”
Maya moved over to the guest chair, sitting down quietly to let him tell the story.
He nodded. “And yes, you were right. It is a toxin. That’s what’s been causing the violent outbreaks.” He waved his hand. “Though some fuck-head over in entertainment had already taken that theory on a rumor and released it to the mainstream as some random piece.”
Maya frowned. “Did you ask them to pull it?” she asked.
He shook his head, and took a slurp of his whiskey. “It’s not worth the battle. Those guys already think they single-handedly provide the material for the whole company. But it went onto a channel where hardly anyone will see it… so…” he waved his glass a little, one finger gesturing, “like I said. Not worth the air time.” He took another sip.
Maya sat quietly, letting him catch her up on whatever he needed to get off his chest.
“Apparently this toxin though, is a strain that is known in the research world. It’s based on a paper written by some girl that was kicked out of the military recently. Miss Newld,” he paused, saying her name with a degree of contempt, “has explained that this person has it in for the government. But Miss Newld’s company has an antidote!”
His tone indicated his mock surprise at the prospect of them coincidentally having an antidote ready.
Maya nodded. She understood exactly what he was telling her, without him having to spell it out.
He continued. “They just don't have the funding to get it made before it becomes an issue. She was hoping that a little help from the media might help inform the decision makers and get her company the funding they need to head this off at the pass.”
Maya’s eyes flared, but her voice was controlled when she spoke. “And you’re going to support her?”
Bob took a swig of whiskey. “I don’t see any other option. If she’s right about the toxin, we have a duty to protect our citizens, regardless of what company is going to benefit.”
“By telling a lie?” Maya’s voice was terse now. She reined herself in. “I don’t think this girl who wrote the paper is one of the bad guys. I think she is a scapegoat, or a plant, or whatever. The only person who benefits from this toxin getting out is Ms. Newld. I would have thought that was obvious.”
Bob looked extra anxious as he took another deep swig of whiskey. His head was down slightly, like he was trying to hide his expression, but his eyes scanned sideways.
Maya narrowed her eyes, watching him. “There’s something else you’re not telling me.” He was more anxious than if this was just a high-profile story.
He’d be excited at an actual story, she realized.
Bob drank again, and discreetly tapped his ear with two fingers, making it look like a scratch.
Maya got it. They were being monitored.
She resisted the overwhelming urge to look at the cameras. Who knew what other devices were in the offices?
The systems.
Asshole.
If they had access to the Newstainment systems, they would also know she was onto them, if they were monitoring her usage. She must have flagged sensitive documents.
She gasped, suddenly realizing why Jessica Newld had been so weird with her. She wasn’t just some unknown journalist to her.
Maya hurriedly said goodnight. Trying to explain more about what she’d discovered to Bob would only put them both in more danger. Besides, it looked like he already had an idea. And while he was running the stories that Newld wanted him to, he was useful. Maya, as idealistic as she was, couldn’t deny him that right now.
She flew back to her desk to collect her jacket and quickly left the building. She needed headspace… and to be somewhere where her connection wasn’t going to be monitored.
Ventus Research Facility, downtown Spire
“Yo!” Pieter called out to Eugene. “You’ve got incoming.” He swiveled his chair out of the way so that Eugene could get back to his desk holo. “It’s a data packet from Molly,” he announced.
Joel wandered over and Pieter stayed close, looking over Eugene’s arm as it finished downloading.
Joel was the one to ask the question. “What’s it say?”
Eugene examined the contents of the file. “Looks like a schematic for a device that we need to build. And - yes! She’s got the sequence for the antidote.”
Pieter pumped his fist in the air. “Boo-ja!” he cheered.
Joel and Eugene looked at him.
Pieter removed his fist from the air, and blushed a little.
Joel and Eugene looked back at the holo screen.
Eugene swiped through some of the pages in the download, opening up different screens to assess the situation. He stopped on a schematic. “Ah.” His tone was one of trouble.
Joel looked down at him. “’Ah’?”
Eugene looked across at Pieter and then pushed one of the frames his way for him to take a look.
Pieter scanned it with his eyes and then looked back at him. “You know how to build this?”
Eugene shook his head. Turning to Joel, “This is way more complicated than what we are set up to build here. The sequencing, no problem. But that engineering stuff… waaaay out of my league.”
Joel looked back to Pieter to confirm with him too. “You too?”
Pieter nodded. “Yeah. It would take me forever to figure it out. I mean, I’m more than willing to try, but-”
“Maybe I can help.” Sean’s voice traveled through the lab. The group looked up to see him push himself off the door frame where he had been leaning, and walk into the room as casually as if he were showing up for late night poker with the boys.
“May I?” he asked, looking at Eugene. Eugene looked up, nodded and without taking his eyes off the space marine, pushed the holoscreen up to Sean so he could see.
Joel’s jaw had set. “So you’re an engineer as well, eh?”
He immediately caught himself.
Dick!
This team needed to work; and if Sean could help them avert a crisis, he wasn’t going to let his personal feelings get in the way.
Sean scanned over the design, nodding his head. “Impressive work,” he said. “Yes, kind of. And I know someone who can build this quickly.” He looked up at Joel who tried to straighten his face, and look pleased at the offer of help.
“Great!” Joel exclaimed.
Sean returned the holo frame to Eugene. “I’ll need a couple of hours.” Then he looked back to Joel. “You good to upload it to that server?”
“Of course!” he replied.
Fuck. Can anyone say overcompensation?? he scolded himself.
Sean turned on his heels and disappeared. “I’ll be in touch very soon.” And with that he disappeared out of the door again.
“Okay, let’s get you cracking on that antidote,” Joel said, rallying the troops and clapping his hands together like he would training his squad. “Oh, and Pieter - you want to send Molly a message back to let her know what’s going on with both items and the three locations.”
Pieter swung back to his own workstation without getting up from his wheelie chair. “On it, boss!”
Joel looked across at the door where Sean had just left, and shook his head, putting his hands on his hips.
McKenzie Drive-Thru, Spire
Maya pulled the car into an all night drive-thru.
Shit, shit shit shit shit.
She’d gone in to that office guns blazing, and now they - whoever they were - knew that she and Bob were onto them.
Fucking dammit!
She rested her forehead on the steering wheel, like a puppet doll.
Think, Maya. Think.
Okay, so if this toxin is out there, then these experiments weren’t incidents in their own right. Even with Newstainment in their pocket, the Jessica Bitch-Club would still need more leverage to have government funding released at a level that would rival the kinds of revenue their drugs would generate.
They wouldn’t be doing all this for pocket-change.
Maya pulled up her holo.
First she disconnected it from the XtraNET, and turned off all network ports. Then she opened up port 212 in isolation. Using that, she quickly located the XtraNET connection associated with the drive-thru. If anyone were searching for her, they wouldn’t be able to track her activity now.
She smiled to herself. Then refocused.
So which funds are they going after? she wondered. It needs to be big enough to make it worth their while…
It didn’t take much searching before she found exactly what she was looking for: Garet Beaufort had just given a press conference on why he was backing the Iantrogen bid for the Pandemic Prevention Fund.
She swiped through a few more search results.
120 billion credits worth of funding for the entire Central Systems. Okay, this looked like what they were after.
She talked herself through the logic. Now, for that kind of money, there needs to be a real and present danger. That means a real threat - personified by Molly Bates - and an actual incident to point to. That means people have to die. Lots of people.
She closed down the screens she had been accessing. Closing her eyes sometimes helped her imagine. So if she were an evil ice queen, and she wanted to show that this toxin was a real threat to lots of people in the central systems, she would need to…
Show them how deadly it can be. And how wide-ranged. What better place to do it than the capital city?
So how is she going to infect a large number of people? Touch? Nope. It’s not a germ, so it won’t transfer to host.
By air? Possibly.
Water?
She pulled up the holo again. Finding the thesis on her device, she flicked through. The toxin was in liquid form - meaning it needed a fluid as a carrier.
Yes. Water. They’re going after the water supply!
She started searching for water processing plants. There was one nearby, just over an hour’s drive from here. She downloaded a map and checked the route before disconnecting her holo, leaving all the ports disconnected.
Wiping her face with her hands, she took a breath and started the car.
Chapter 17
Hotel Remona, New Versaille, 37 km East of Spire.
There was a restrained knock at the door, dulled. It wasn’t bare-knuckled.
David Rek lay on the bed in the fetal position, gently rocking himself.
Henry got up from the chair still holding the gun. He opened the door. Rek heard voices.
Henry stepped aside.
Rek turned his head to see who was there. An average build, average height figure stepped into the room. The stranger had no distinguishing features, and kept his face hidden behind a helmet.
Rek tried to appeal to the faceless man regardless. “Listen, I can give you anything you want. Just let me go free. I’ll take my family and we’ll disappear. You have the toxin. You don’t need to do this.”
Erik was watching from the outside. He reached over to the door and pulled it closed.
The figure in the black atmossuit seemed unresponsive. He pulled the bag from around his back, and reached in to get something out.
Probably a gun.
“Please. Fucking hell. Please. You don’t need to…”
The figure produced a round device, about the size of his palm. He held it out to David, who instinctively started to reach out.
“Wait.” He pulled his hand back. “What… what is this?”
The figure spoke, but his voice was synthesized, or scrambled. Or both.
“Take it. You will be taken to a location to deploy it into the water supply. Hit the depressible section here before you drop it in…” The faceless figure turned his wrist to reveal a section of the device that looked like it could be pressed in, “… and then make sure you evacuate the area as fast as you can. You will then be taken to your family, and given transport to any city of your choosing.
David took the device.
“And if I refuse?” he asked.
The figure pulled a gun out from behind his back. “Then we have a problem.” The figure pointed the gun straight at Rek’s forehead. “And we then also have a problem with your family.”
David, hyperventilating and sweating now, nodded vigorously. “Okay. Okay… I … I understand.”
Henry watched the exchange, immersed in the action. If he had popcorn, he could be mindlessly throwing it up to his mouth only to have it bounce off his face back into the bucket.
The figure pulled the gun back and put it away. Zipping up the bag he had brought the device in, he turned and waited to be let out of the door.
Henry, suddenly aware of his role, jumped a little, and scuffled over to the door. Opening it up, he watched, still mesmerized, as the man in black left the room.
Erik let him pass, watching him as he left, too. Rek noticed the sense of awe that even the more grounded Ogg had for the unknown person.
Once the footsteps had disappeared down the corridor, Erik stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. “We leave in five minutes,” he said. “Get your shit together. You’re not coming back here.”
Relief and fresh anxiety flooded David’s adrenals at the same time. Heart in his mouth, he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as he fumbled about trying to gather his belongings. Shirt. Atmojacket. Wallet. Device that could only contain the toxin he had developed for the evil Jessica and her henchmen. Check.
Within ten minutes, the three of them were out in the car, speeding towards the strato highway.
Ventus Research Facility, downtown Spire
The lab was quiet in intense concentration. Joel paced back and forth at the far end thinking through anything they might have missed.
Eugene sat monitoring the replication device from which he was effectively “growing” the new antidote, having sequenced the DNA and stimulated it to replicate in yeast, engineered just for this purpose.
Pieter monitored the cameras, despite the futility of the action. It gave him something to focus on so he didn’t have to think about the millions of people who would die painful deaths if this toxin was released into the water supply.
Joel mumbled for the fourth time in the last ten minutes. “There must be a way to head them off at the pass.”
Pieter tried to help this time. “The only other thing we can do is guard each access point - which we will do as soon as we have the antidote. We can’t physically get there and back in time. This is the optimal strategy, given the number of bodies we can trust. Everything else results in high probabilities of casualties.”
Joel looked over at him. “You sound like Molly.”
Pieter looked up from his holoscreens of camera feeds. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Joel smiled. “Yeah. You should, actually.”
Just then there was a clatter at the entrance to the lab. Sean appeared, bustling, as much as a space marine could bustle. He strode across the floor, clutching a small device in his hand.
“Got it. This is what we managed to produce… with a few design improvements.”
Eugene was up and out of his chair in a flash, hands out to take the device. “Great! We’ll be ready in about five minutes with the antidote, and then it will take a few minutes to transfer into the device. After that, you can take it.”
Sean looked over at Joel who had stopped pacing and was now square on to the action, albeit it several yards away from everyone else. “I guess you and I should be the ones to take it to the main target?” he suggested. “Then if there is any activity on the cameras, we can just switch course or location and apply the antidote as needed.”
Joel nodded. “I concur.” It was a military strategy he was familiar with; it wouldn’t prevent the attack, but was the most efficient, in terms of neutralizing the effect when they knew the intended target.
Joel thought a moment. “But who are ‘we’ exactly?” he asked.
Sean had moved over to Eugene’s workstation and was watching the count down on his screen. “Huh?” he grunted, looking over at him again.
Joel started to walk over to join the others around the workstations. “You said ‘we’. As in you and other people,” Joel clarified. “Who is ‘we’?”
Joel noticed Sean take a slightly deeper breath before responding. “I don’t mean to be all mysterious and shit, but that’s a ‘need to know’.”
Dick, thought Joel for the second time that day.
Joel resisted the urge to bait him and kept his tone neutral. “You’d have to kill me?” he asked, shooting for humor more than sarcasm.
“Something like that.” Sean dropped his eyes back to the screen, and Joel continued to watch his microexpressions. Something about this guy wasn’t adding up. If he really was working for Garet, then how come The Syndicate wasn’t all over his ass?
Spire Central Water Facility, Hlidargata
“Okay, this is it.” Joel pulled the car up in the same spot where he had parked only hours before.
Sean reached for the door release to get out, but then stopped, hand still on the handle. He hesitated a moment. “How long have you known Molly?”
Joel looked at him. He took a second to process the question.
“A while,” he replied. He paused. “Why?”
Sean pulled the release and opened the door. “Just wondering.”
He got out.
Joel followed suit, turning quickly to continue the conversation outside. Sean had exited, but then reached back in to pick up the device he’d wedged in the door pocket.
Joel wanted to push the issue, but instead closed the car door and started walking in the direction of the piping intersection they were guarding. Glancing around, his instincts kept him alert and focused on the job… despite the obvious distraction.
Sean jogged to catch up, his muscular weight pounding into the semi-firm sandy grit. “So you and she… you’re not a thing?”
Joel kept his eyes straight ahead. “No, sir. We’re not a thing.” His jaw was stiff again.
Sean strode along a little more relaxed now, scanning the area for signs of movement. He carefully folded the antidote device into a pouch in his trouser leg.
He wasn’t done with the Molly subject. “So, does she have anyone… special?”
I’m special to her, you dick! Joel thought - along with a vision of punching the guy into the next ‘realm.
“Nope. Not really,” he replied, as casually as he could manage.
“No one in orbit?” Sean asked, either digging, or making sure.
Joel shook his head again. “She doesn’t tend to get into relationships.”
Sean raised one eyebrow, and looked over at him. “Why’s that?”
Joel shrugged, really not wanting to have this conversation with Sean Royale, the super soldier. “She just doesn’t. People make her uncomfort-”
Movement caught Joel’s eye over to the right, around behind the structure where Sean had jumped him earlier that day. He put his hand up to signal to Sean, who stopped dead in his tracks. Sean quietly reached for his weapon.
Joel did the same half a heartbeat later.
Stalking forward, knees bent, guns trained on the ground ahead of them, both were on high alert, being careful not to make any sudden movements that would alert anyone to their presence.
Sean signaled he was going to go around the back of the main structure where they had fitted the camera. Joel nodded, and continued around the front.
Step after step, they drew closer.
Sean could hear a heartbeat, projected through his auditory implant. It was Estarian. Male. His tension levers were elevated. He was hiding. Sean realized he had no way to communicate this intel to Joel, but it was okay. He had it handled. This was probably their guy.
Deftly, barely moving a muscle, he flicked his gun to stun. He wanted him alive.
Simultaneously, Joel moved around the corner, gun outstretched in front of him.
There, sweating, hands already in the air, was the missing scientist.
Joel reacted first. “Stay right where you are!” he ordered.
Sean’s eyes widened. “Don’t kill him. Stun only!” he blurted.
The Estarian, gray, fatigued, and in poor physical condition, stood there shaking. Joel looked up and spotted the device in his hand.
A screech of tires tore through the air, pulling his attention away for a second. He quickly fixed his eyes back on the toxin-wielding Estarian.
Sean yelled out “Hold him! It’s the missing scientist. I’m going after the car.”
He shot off, pounding on the rough terrain far faster than Joel could have done, even on a good day, following the sound of the vehicle’s engine.
Joel, with the scientist in his sights, removed the toxin deployment device from his hand, and secured his wrists in restraints. The Estarian didn’t resist.
Then he asked the question they had all been mulling since the crisis began. “Who sent you?”
The scientist, already petrified, started blubbering. “Please… please, they have my family.”
Joel looked around, making sure there weren’t any other hostiles lurking. “What’s your name?” he asked.
“David Rek. I’m a scientist at Venture Research. They made me mix the toxin. They were making me put it into the water. They still have my family… My wife and little girl. Please… please help them.”
Joel saw Sean jogging back, empty-handed. Sean shook his head.
Joel pulled Rek around, holding one of his upper arms. “Okay, let’s get you out of here. We need some answers.” He turned and started steering the prisoner off the car.
“You wanna stay here and keep an eye out, in case this isn’t the only attack?” he called across to Sean as they started moving out.
Sean stood still when he reached the point where Joel had arrested David. “Sure thing. Again, only use the server to contact me, though. Keep me posted.”
“Roger that,” Joel called back to him, without even turning around. Rek stumbled, and Joel, distracted, had to catch him to take his weight, and keep him on his feet.
He took the scientist back to the car, carefully making sure the toxin was secured in a pocket in the back, out of the reach of any suicidal crazies.
He didn’t notice the figure hidden by the undergrowth, peeking from behind the floodlight structure. The figure pulled back quietly, just as Joel straightened up to get into the drivers’ seat.
She watched him pull away.
Chapter 18
Spire Central Water Facility, Hlidargata
As the sun went down, Maya realized that hanging around the location was probably a waste of time. She’d seen the two ex-military-looking guys take the kidnapped scientist away - along with what she could only assume was the toxin. She’d heard his protests, that they were holding his family, and forcing him to poison the city… They had it in-hand.
Hanging around, watching super-soldier number two guard the location, wasn’t going to give her any more answers.
And heck knows how he isn’t exhausted, she wondered. She’d been staking out the place for a good eight hours before anyone even showed up. And she’d been sitting in her car. He’d been standing out in the dust and radiation for hours.
Nope, it was time to call it a day. She had pictures of the two guys and the scientist on her holo. She just needed to connect back up to the XtraNET, and she could find out who these people were.
She started the car and pulled away.
She didn’t notice the space marine turn his head and clock her car registration number as she drove off.
It didn’t take much driving to find a mocha shop that had XtraNET she could tap into. Reopening the port on her holo, she hijacked the signal to continue her investigation.
First the marines: who were they? she asked herself, clipping their faces and running the images through facial rec. She left it running; she needed to be sure. Full scan. And time for a mocha and some food.
She got out of the car and stretched her legs, then arched her back. Locking up the car, she ambled towards the mocha shop. Suddenly, she had a funny feeling she was being watched. She looked around her. There was no one there.
Keep your eyes peeled, Maya, she told herself. You’re onto something here. Can’t be too careful.
Her father had taught her how to recognize if someone was tailing her. Even as a child, she knew to take note of all the cars in a parking lot, and things like the number of people around a building like this.
She made her way into the mocha shop through the sliding atmos door. At the counter, she placed her order. Ten minutes later, she was sitting in the window, watching out for anything unusual while searching what she could access from a normal XtraNET connection.
At least I know who the good guys are, now, she mused to herself. They didn’t kill the scientist, but they stopped him from hurting anyone. She pulled up the pictures of the two men again. Something caused her to stop and look at them more closely.
One of them looked familiar. She couldn’t make the connection at first but then… Yes! She scrambled for her company’s newsfeed, and searched the video clips.
Yes! That was where she’d seen him.
It was way too grainy to do a facial rec match, but that was very likely the guy with Molly Bates on the Dewitt footage.
Great! she thought. Now we’re getting somewhere, baby.
Just as soon as the facial rec came back, she’d have an ID, and a break in the case.
It took another two mochas for the facial software to return a result.
Joel Dunham. Honorably discharged, but his file was sealed. Something fishy went down there. But that was several years ago.
She kept searching in the usual databases. Transport, housing, financial, and holo records. Nothing gave her any insight. But then… flight plans. He’d spent the last few months off-world. No fixed address.
Interesting.
She tried digging. All that would come up was his association with Molly Bates in the police records to do with Dewitt. Nothing about in what capacity.
Shit. If only I could get into those files.
She flicked up the facial rec software that was returning a result.
**NO MATCH**
That was for the guy with Dunham.
She went back to the original pictures of them. The second guy looked more heavily-built, especially for a human. She wondered… Maybe he’s off-grid. Working for the military. Which would explain the abilities I’ve seen; he moved faster than a human could.
She pulled up the footage and ran the high res image, taking the spectrum down to the infrared. Zooming in, she selected the images and then blew them up.
Was that-?
Just behind his ear, she could see an implant; but bigger than a normal auditory one.
She zoomed to another part of his body. There were low temperature lines, like cables, or implants, or something, running the length of his legs. She tried to get a better angle, but it was too fiddly on her device.
But it got her thinking. A few years ago there were rumors of cyborgs - half men, half machine, being created for a secret war. She’d dismissed it as conspiracy theory. Speculative fiction. But now, seeing this untraceable man, knee-deep in a conspiracy to wipe out half the city, she had to wonder.
She lifted her mocha cup, to take another comforting sip, only to find it empty. Feeling hollow and exhausted, her mind somewhat foggy now, she tried to refocus on Joel. He was traceable. And if he was living off-world, sooner or later she knew exactly where he’d show up.
She plunked the empty mug down on the table and gathered up her belongings. She looked at the counter, contemplating taking another mocha with her, but then decided against it.
She really needed sleep at some point.
She just had one more stop to make…
Ventus Research Facility, downtown Spire
Joel was on high alert.
Transporting a prisoner solo was one of the highest-risk operations a person could take on. And that was despite the low level threat the scientist physically posed.
He whipped through all the strategies he would teach his cadets.
Know your route.
Check your route.
Be aware of your enemies and know who might ambush you.
Fail. Fail. Fail. Fail.
He felt like he had held his breath the entire journey.
Every car was suspicious.
Every holo device active on the street from passersby was a potential weapon.
Not to mention the fact that he was carrying the deadly toxin.
He had no idea if it might explode right there in the car. Maybe it was on a timer. He couldn’t totally trust everything the scientist had been telling him as he drove, quizzing him incessantly.
After all, he was under duress from the kidnappers, and now from Joel himself.
Fuck!
At least when he got there, he’d be able to hand the scientist over to the police. Detective Indius had been most accommodating and grateful on the holo call, as he’d set off from the Hlidargata site.
Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime since leaving Sean at the drop point, he pulled up at Ventus. He got out of the car and went around to the other side. Carefully, he opened the door and helped the prisoner out.
He glanced towards the back pocket where the toxin was. Safer to leave it there and get the scientist inside and handed over, he decided. Even if it did mean that he was leaving it unattended.
Can’t be helped. He locked the car and frog-marched Rek into the facility.
Everything was quiet.
Since bringing Molly on board, the directors had concluded that she could do far more than all their scientists combined. Something about her attitude had persuaded them. That’s what he’d heard from Eugene, anyway.
Their footsteps resounded through the dark, empty corridors. Emergency, low-level lighting guided their way through the building, as if low light was a mark of shame. Joel’s boots were heavy on the ground. Ordered in a solid, regular beat. David’s were scattered. He stumbled every now and again, off-balance, despite Joel only lightly holding his arm now.
Eventually they arrived in the lab. Without acknowledging any of the many bodies standing around the main workstations, Joel grabbed a swivel chair and sat David into it. Then he tied his middle and legs to the chair, immobilizing him.
Finally he looked up and acknowledged the people in the room.
“Mr. Dunham. Thank you for your call.” Detective Indius stepped away from the group, moving towards Joel, her hand outstretched. He shook her hand and then glanced over at the others. Eugene was at his station, and Pieter had been working away at something… the camera screens monitoring the three original sites still.
Joel nodded to the others before turning back to Indius. “You’re welcome. I’m glad to have him off my hands, if anything.”
He hesitated, not really knowing if he should hand over the toxin.
“We retrieved the toxin,” he told her. “Except, I don’t think that taking it to the precinct is a good idea.”
Eugene practically jumped out of his chair. “You’re kidding! It’s totally NOT a good idea! Do you have any idea-”
Pieter had stood up and was about to chime in too.
Detective Indius raised her hand. “It’s okay. Chillax, Dr. Eugene. You can keep the toxin here. As long as I get a full spec report on it for submitting to the DA.”
Eugene looked embarrassed about his outburst. He nodded, grunting something in agreement, and sat back down. Pieter backed off a little, too.
Joel turned to leave the lab. “Okay, let me go get it. Then you’ll probably want to know what we know.”
Indius smiled. “That sounds like an excellent idea, Mr. Dunham.”
* * *
It took a few hours of chatting and debriefing before all parties were satisfied they had the intel they needed. Joel strategically left out all the details about Sean. If he was using servers for them to communicate, and potentially double-crossing his employer - The Syndicate, and his ancestors knew whom else - he wouldn’t take kindly to being revealed to the police.
Fortunately, Pieter and Eugene had also been discreet, so it was easy to omit his part in it… although there had been a tense moment when Sean appeared on Pieter’s cameras just outside of Indius’s eyeline. He was still at the scene, but was signaling to them he was taking off. Joel had managed to keep Detective Indius’s attention on him by telling her the tale of how they had originally gotten off-world… semi-legally.
Thankfully, she wasn’t too caught up by the Air Traffic Control violation, mostly because that wasn’t her department, and there was nothing she could do. She did, however, urge him to get the penalty paid.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure it’s in-hand with the pilot in order for him to come through the port again,” Joel waved, agreeing that they would ‘fess up either way.
Finally she got up to leave.
“Thank you all,” she said, casting her eyes around the little team in the lab. “And please pass my thanks on to Ms. Bates, as well.”
Joel nodded. “Of course.”
He got up and walked her out of the building and into a waiting police car, with her new prisoner.
When he returned to the lab, the boys were chattering and laughing, relieved that their hard work had paid off.
“We saved the fucking world!!” Pieter hollered at the top of his voice.
Eugene laughed and high-fived him. “Yeah. Who’d have thought that a couple of geeks-”
He stopped mid-sentence, seeing Joel, the muscle of the op, walk back in, and take a seat next to him. Joel folded his arms, revealing his rippling muscles, and looked pointedly at Eugene’s biceps.
Eugene went quiet and put his attention back on his holo, pretending to work.
Pieter regained his decorum too. “Want me to message Sean and let him know we wrapped up?”
“Sure,” Joel responded. “Then contact Gaitune, and let them know we’re ready for extraction. It will take them a day or two to get here.
Pieter swiveled back to his temporary workstation. “You got it, boss!” he chirped.
Joel leaned back in his chair, and moved over to give Eugene some more space. “Then we go eat,” he said, finally allowing himself to relax.
“Something with a fuck ton of dead animal on it,” he added.
Hotel Erwin, downtown Spire
Joel woke up in the hotel room. Pieter was already up, working at the table in the main room. Natural sarklight spilled through the windows and cast patterns on the floor.
Rolling off the bed and putting his feet on the floor, Joel stretched out his calves, bringing himself around slowly.
He turned, looking for his water bottle. It was on the nightstand, empty. He picked it up and padded through to the living area, and over to the sink in the very basic kitchenette.
“Ummm,” he grunted to Pieter.
Pieter glanced up from his work. “Greetings of the morning,” he said, trying not to let his focus be broken.
Joel sat down at the table and drank from his bottle.
Eventually Pieter looked up again. “Sleep okay?” he asked.
Joel nodded, still trying to come to. Speaking was an effort he wasn’t prepared to make at this point.
Pieter started updating Joel anyway. “Okay, so I think I’ve got this device working as we need it to. I’ve tested it a few times, and I can’t break it…” he picked up the little pod device off the table, and waved it in the air in front of Joel’s eyes.
Joel reached out and took it from him, like a bear would swipe at a honeybee. He blinked his eyes again and gave up. Holding the device, he closed his eyes and put his head on his arms on the table.
He stayed like that for a few minutes.
Pieter continued working.
Eventually Joel revived and peeled his head up, eyes still closed. Then one eye opened. Followed a moment later by the other.
Joel tried again, holding the device up in front of his now-functioning eyes.
“Looks like a normal storage device,” he commented, forcing his mouth to work. His whole face was still crumpled up.
Pieter looked at him. “Yeah, that’s what it’s meant to look like.”
Joel’s eyes widened a little, as he mouthed an “Ohhh,” expression. “And it’s fully tested.”
Pieter nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Joel looked over at him, serious and awake now. “You’d stake your life on it?” He still held the device up at eye level between them.
Pieter swallowed. His eyes focused on the device for a moment, and then back on Joel. He paused. Then nodded. “I would.”
“Good enough for me,” smiled Joel. He put it back down on the table. “Leave a message for Sean. If he wants to avoid contact, we can leave it at a drop-off for him.”
That way I don’t have to see him.
Shit, stop Joel. He’s just a dude.
Yeah, that happens to be into Molly.
Pieter was back on his holo. “On it.”
Joel heaved himself out of the chair and walked over to the mocha machine. He shook his head, trying to shake the feelings he had about Sean.
Hitting the “on” switch, he remembered to ask about their pick up. “Hey, any word from Crash yet?”
Pieter looked up. “Yeah, about half hour ago he sent a download estimating an ETA of about 6 hours. That gives us five and a half to get packed up and over there.
Joel grunted again, and traipsed back through to the bedroom to hit the shower.
Chapter 19
Spaceport, Hangar 08771A, Outskirts of Uptarlung
Exhausted, her blue skin now dull from fatigue, Maya rolled up to the security checkpoint with her badge. It had been a long drive between Spire and Uptarlung, and sleep dep was already kicking in.
“Maya Johnstone, Newstainment, Investigative Division,” she told the young Estarian at the security post. He leaned out of his window to see the ID projection more closely on her holo.
He looked at the ID, then at her, and then back at the ID.
He pulled his mouth to one side, thinking. Or confused. “What does a journalist want with a spaceport?” he asked.
Maya sensed that this was an opportunity. After all, once she was in, she didn’t know where to start looking. She held up a finger telling him to hang on a second, and then turned off the engine and hopped out of the car. As she approached the window, he stepped out of the door on the other side of his little office, and came around to meet her.
“Don’t get many people interested in this place,” he said. His accent was slow and drawn. He was likely from one of the more southern towns on the planet.
Maya smiled at him. “Well, there’s someone I’m trying to trace. He’s been helping my friend, and I think he’s in trouble.” She bit her lip and looked away for a moment. “I know he’ll be leaving to go off-world soon, and I just wanted to speak to him before he goes.”
She looked down and fiddled with her holo. Pulling up his picture from before he had pulled his weapon, and before he had the scientist in shot; she showed him a zoomed in image of Joel.
“You seen him?” she asked.
The Estarian shook his head. “We get a lot of guys like him through this way: ex-military types, with commercial gigs, importing and exporting on these birds. Hard to tell them apart.”
Maya smiled. “Yeah, bet they all look the same.” She paused. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to have a sign-in would you… for people when they come on-site? The guy’s name is Joel Dunham. At least, that’s his real name.”
The security guard looked upward for a second, thinking. “Yeah… hang on.” He stepped out behind the security hut again. She followed him around to the doorway. He had pulled up the lodge holo device and was scrolling through sign-ins.
“No sign of your boy today,” he told her.
Maya frowned a little, and thought for a moment. “What about any other day?”
The security guard pulled up the search function and keyed in Joel’s name. “Yeah, he checked in one landing a few days ago.”
Maya put her finger to her bottom lip, thinking. “Okay. So if that was the last entry… if he’s still using his real name, he’s still here.”
The guard straightened up, suddenly looking more competent and confident. “Tell you what,” he said, “bump me that image and his name, and if anyone comes in looking like that, I’ll drop you a message.”
Maya beamed. Some of the effervescence came back to the skin around her cheeks as she pulled the picture again to bump it to his holo.
“Thank you!” she gushed. “I’m Maya, by the way.” She held out her hand to shake his. He took it straight away. “Ned,” he told her.
“Ned, thank you. You don't know how much this means to me.”
Ned smiled goofily, blushing a little. When she released his hand, he used it to ruffle his dark Estarian hair. “Don’t mention it.” His voice caught for a second in his throat. “Happy to help.”
She turned to the door, and then turned back. “Hey, I don’t suppose…” she hesitated, not wanting to push her luck.
Ned looked at her, expectantly.
She continued. “I don’t suppose that maybe you know which ship he came in on? And if that ship is still here?”
Ned flicked back to his screen, and swiped a few times.
“Yeah, I’ve got the tail number here. XC-094B.” He glanced up at her again. “It’s not here, though. Want me to let you know when it lands?”
Maya beamed again. “Would you?”
“Of course! For a smile like that…” He suddenly blushed deep red under his blue skin, embarrassed by his own cheesy boldness.
Maya grinned at him and waved. “Thank you Ned, so much!” She trotted off away from the security lodge and back around to her car, blushing somewhat herself.
Maya got back into her car and started the engine. Window still down, she waved at him before reversing back out of the driveway to a point where she could turn around.
As she drove off to the strato highway, she glanced in her rearview mirror. Ned was still standing outside his hut, watching her leave.
Press conference outside Memorial Hall, Spire
Garet Beaufort stepped away from the podium, allowing the mayor to take over the press conference taking place in front of the memorial building, where the Ministry of Health Care met for their annual meeting.
He looked out at the assembled reporters, brandishing holo recorders, monitoring and capturing his every word and movement. He had toed the line in his statement, and yet, something made him feel on edge. He tried to shake the feeling from his body, pretending to just be warming up against the cold morning air.
Scanning the crowd, something made him look for familiar faces. Maybe it was the loneliness. Every now and again, he thought he might see Paige. But he knew that wasn’t right; she wouldn’t come back here. Not after everything that happened.
Not after he didn’t choose her.
“…and that is why the mayor’s office is also proud to support the motion.” Mayor Gains finished his statement, and the press erupted into a clamor of questions.
Garet glazed over.
It had quickly all become quite routine. He took a breath, looking for an escape route away from the onslaught of questions and brashness, but his eyes fell to a figure at the back of the crowd.
He looked more closely, recognizing the body shape before the face.
It was Sean Royale.
As soon as it was appropriate to leave the platform, he shook hands with the mayor, and made his way down to the street. His team fussed around him and he waved them off.
“Gimme ten minutes,” he told Nancy, the newest blonde addition to his entourage. She nodded obediently, and watched as he moved off around the crowd, striding purposefully across the road into the memorial park on the other side.
She didn’t notice the heavy-set super soldier follow him shortly after.
Sean casually caught up to Garet. Hands in pockets, each just looked like a guy taking a walk.
Hidden by hedging and greenery from the road, Garet didn’t look at Sean as they walked more slowly now. “How did it go?” he asked.
Sean spoke in a low, but very clear voice. “Well. There are still some loose ends - which I will handle - but they built a device. I checked it. It will do the job.”
Garet stopped walking.
Sean pulled the little storage pod out of his pocket. “You can put data on it, and then upload it using any public XtraNET port. Just don’t use it at home or in the office. Or anywhere they can trace you.”
Garet nodded.
He looked at the device, and then slipped it quickly into his pants pocket. Then he looked up, knowing he shouldn’t be asking. “How are they all?”
Sean reported as professionally as he could on the question. “They all seem in good health. Good spirits. They’re building a new team together. They’ve just taken on a new tech guy.
Garet’s eyes narrowed. “Did he check out okay?”
Sean nodded briefly once. “Affirmative. Although one thing is suspicious.”
Garet looked concerned.
Sean continued, his eyes dancing a little. “His dress sense is way too good for a nerd.”
Garet laughed out loud. He turned and continued walking, ambling along with Sean now in tow.
“And Paige?”
Sean bobbed his head slightly. “The hybrid?”
Garet looked up at him. “Yes,” he smiled at the term. “The hybrid.”
Sean smiled a little again, and looked back at Garet. “She looked in excellent health and humor.”
Garet bobbed his head, wondering if he should ask more. He decided against it. He looked straight ahead and continued walking.
He was silent for a moment.
“And did you meet Joel?” he asked.
“I did.”
Garet was now watching Sean’s reaction, even as they walked. “Impressive guy, no?” he prodded.
Sean wasn’t giving much away. “Seems to be.”
“But you could take him?” Garet smiled, genuinely curious.
“Probably,” Sean admitted, stiffly.
The pair was approaching a gate to the park. If Garet stepped out here, he could walk casually back up the street to rejoin his people.
He nodded at the exit, signaling his intent. “Okay. Great job. I’ll wait to hear from you about everything else.”
Sean nodded, and then casually continued on a route deeper into the park, avoiding the possibility of anyone snapping images that might place them together for their conversation.
Spaceport, Hangar 08771A, Outskirts of Uptarlung
“Permission granted. Welcome back, XC-094B. Just remember to swing by control to get that fine paid, or else you’ll come back to an impounded ship.”
Crash rolled his eyes, but his voice was as cool and professional as a fighter pilot on group comms. “Roger that, control. Will attend as soon as we touch down.”
Fucking jumped up half-wits, he thought to himself.
Molly had given him access to funds to square it away, and hoped his license record didn’t suffer as a result of her command decision. But still, a little piece of him wanted to just shove it to the man.
He touched down gently, and received the green light to taxi straight away. Switching to wheels mode, he dropped the hyperdrive engines to zero, and allowed them to naturally power down against the friction of the air. It would save excessive wear and tear doing it that way, even though traditional safety regs dictated otherwise.
His inner rebel was flying the ship today.
Gently, he eased the ship forward and off toward the hangars. It took a few moments to normalize to the natural gravity and to gather his thoughts, but as he taxied, he thought to switch his personal holo and comms back on.
“Call Joel,” he told his holo in hands-free mode.
A moment later, the call connected. “Joel, how the fuck are you, my man?”
“All the better for hearing you, you asshole. How the andskotinn are you?”
Crash smiled to himself. “Ready for a fokking pizza before we leave for the rock.”
Joel looked over at Pieter who had brightened up at the prospect of getting off-world, finally. “Roger that. We’re packed up and ready to leave. See you in twenty minutes plus however long the pizza pick-up takes.”
Crash grinned, having a sneaky thought. “Hey, don’t suppose we could go with an all-out meat feast, since the boss isn’t around?”
Joel nearly hooted with laughter. “I’ll see what we can arrange!” He clicked off the comms.
“That’s us,” he said to Pieter. “Let’s get out of here.”
Pieter gathered up his two packs and headed out of the hotel door. Joel did a quick visual sweep to make sure they had everything, and then followed him out, closing the door behind him.
Pieter looked brightly over at Joel. “So, pizza?”
Joel grinned. “Hellz yeah. Pizza with meat – pepperoni, and all kinds of carnivorous fancies. There’s a place just around the corner that will see us right.”
The two headed down the corridor and out of the building, a decisive spring in their steps, despite their numerous packs and pieces of equipment.
Chapter 20
Spaceport, Hangar 08771A, Outskirts of Uptarlung
“You know, there’s something that bothers me still…” Joel started.
Pieter looked over to him, a mouthful of cheese and meat barely making it all the way into his mouth. He chewed a bit and made some room. “About the mission?”
Joel crinkled his nose. “Yeah. It’s just something about the toxin, and the scientist.” He paused, and plopped the half-eaten slice of pizza down in the box in front of him. “I mean, why go to all the trouble of developing the toxin, only to send it with the one man who can be identified as associated with all this? Surely you’d send someone a) trained, and b) anonymous?”
Pieter nodded. “You have a point. It doesn’t quite stack.” He kept chewing.
Crash continued to eat, watching the conversation back and forth, like a game of ping-pong.
Joel was unsettled. “Have you still got those cameras hooked up?” he asked Pieter.
Pieter nodded, reluctantly surrendering his pizza back to the box so he could open his holo to find the feed.
Joel continued, “You know, they could have sent almost anyone else, and got away with it. Something about this was all just… too easy.”
Crash piped up. “Don’t let Molly hear you say that. She worked like a bitch to get that antidote developed.”
Joel waved his hand. “Yeah, I don’t doubt that. But the logic, at this end… it just doesn’t stack.”
Pieter had the feed up. “All locations are quiet. Want me to scan for movement in the time you left Sean there?”
Joel nodded, “Please.” The pizza now forgotten, he stood up just to feel like he was in action again.
Crash, finishing his current slice of meaty heaven, reached over for another piece. Joel paced. While Crash chewed, his eyes were fixed on Joel like something out of a cartoon, following him backwards and forwards.
Finally something chirped on Pieter’s holo. He pulled up the footage. “Here we go.” He paused, reviewing the footage. “Holy shit, Joel. You were right!”
Joel paced back to the makeshift table and looked over Pieter’s shoulder as he enlarged the frame.
Pieter explained what he was looking at. “That’s Sean,” he pointed to a figure with his back to the camera. “And this is from about twenty minutes ago…”
Pieter hit play, and the footage ticked forward second by second.
Joel’s mouth hung open.
Pieter just looked confused.
Seeing their reactions, Crash stopped eating, stood up, pizza in hand, and walked around to view the footage from behind Pieter.
The three of them watched, dumbfounded.
“Fuck me!” whispered Joel in disbelief.
Spire Central Water Facility, Hlidargata
Sean checked in to the server dump: two new messages.
Message #1: “same location. Bogie ETA 17:20. Carrying the second device.”
There was an image attached. Sean checked the Estarian’s mug shot. He was known to the Sanguine. This was going to be straight-forward.
Getting out of his vehicle he marched up to the structure where he’d jumped Joel. It was a good spot not to be seen. He took cover, squatting down, out of sight. The natural daylight from Sark was low, meaning long shadows, making it easier to hide.
He waited. 17:15.
Eventually, he heard movement. A civilian-looking guy, spindly and low-key, appeared. He had a backpack, and walked idly. Anyone not looking for him would have disregarded him as a threat.
Sean knew better.
He waited, allowing the man to approach the grating where the toxin device would need to be dropped. Sean quietly crept out of his hiding place, and stepped forward.
Before the man could reach into his bag, Sean had stunned him, and slung him over his shoulder, lifting him up as if he were just a sack of potatoes. In one swift movement, he also grabbed hold of the bag the man was carrying. He opened it and rummaged inside, making sure it contained the second device, then closed it up again, and stalked off with the terrorist over his shoulder.
After just a few paces, he remembered something. He stopped, turned, and then looked up at the camera that Pieter had fitted. He smiled a half smile, and gave it a casual two-finger salute before carrying on, out of the frame.
That would get them, he chuckled to himself. If they’re half as good as the General thinks they are, they’ll check the footage eventually.
His chuckle turned into a satisfied grin as he stomped away back to the car.
Newstainment Offices, downtown Spire
“Hey, did you hear about the conspiracy to poison the city’s water supply?”
Maya overheard a snippet of a conversation as she walked from the elevators past a couple of ladies standing in the hallway.
“Yeah. Couldn’t believe it was the scientist…”
Maya made her way through the bustling corridors. Almost half past five in the afternoon, and the place was still in full-swing. She needed to get to her desk and find out what was actually being reported. Just because she knew the truth, it didn’t necessarily mean that the truth was what Newstainment were reporting.
She swung past her desk, ditching her jacket, and made her way closer to Bob’s office. He was there, shouting at a journalist.
Okay, he’s fine, she calmed herself. And as long as he’s running the story he was told to, he’ll stay fine.
She hoped she was right.
She pulled up her holo and connected it to the work network. Quickly, she searched for the official story.
She read it, then clicked on a video report. It all looked pretty vague. At least Molly Bates wasn’t featuring yet; although, that might just be a matter of time. Though, without video evidence… She wondered if Molly was even on Estaria. After all, if Joel Dunham had been off-world, likelihood was that she would be too.
She scanned through her messages, deleting and clearing, trying to get her head clear, while standing up now and again to see if Bob was still in his meeting.
Ugh, the other journalist just sat down. Looks like he’ll be a while. Fucker.
She sat down again for maybe the fifth time since she got there. She pulled her attention back to the job at hand.
If these guys were going off-world, then there would be a limited number of places they could go in the XC-094B they were using.
She pulled up a chart of the system and started scribbling on distances.
Next, she pulled up the range of the ship, given a full fuel cell and minimal crew. Drawing a sphere around Estaria, she then zoomed in to see what might be within range.
Ogg was out. Just at this time of year; it was almost on the exact opposite side of Sark right now.
She turned her visual model so she could see what else was around. There were a few minor planets, but none of those were habitable. Either too hot, or even molten.
She spun the visual representation again. The sphere intersected with the asteroid belt. She zoomed in, watching the asteroid labels flick by as she did.
What if they were hiding in the asteroid belt?
Her father had told her stories when she was very young; stories about how people would have secret bases in asteroid belts around systems. Bases that got closed down and decommissioned. She wished she could remember more about what he’d said.
She flicked her holo in to code mode so she could see where her representation was pulling data from.
One of the university servers. Government owned, therefore probably fit for public consumption, and completely fictitious.
She needed better data.
Fokk, dammit, she thought to herself, realizing that to get it was possible, but that it was going to take a lot more work.
There must be an easier way. Her hatred for hacking through the dark web was unmatched by anything.
Well almost anything.
Just then, a message hit her holo. She turned her wrist, and it flicked open. It was from Ned.
Her eyes scanned the short text, and almost without thinking, she closed her screens and stood up. She picked up her jacket that had slipped onto the floor behind her chair, and walked out the way she had come just a few minutes previously.
“Yo! Maya, where you off to in such a hurry?” It was Drew, one of her few work “buddies”.
“Chasing a story. Catch up later!” she called, waving, walking as fast as she could out to the elevators again.
Drew stood peering over his cubicle partition shaking his head at her. “Fokk, I wish I could catch stories the way she can…”
He slumped back down in his chair, frustrated, and flicked at his antigrav mug.
Chapter 21
Spaceport, Hangar 08771A, Outskirts of Uptarlung
Maya pulled up at the security lodge at the main gate. As she arrived, Ned stepped out looking concerned.
She got out of the car, and Ned headed over. “I came on duty, and they had already logged in. I’m sorry.”
Maya smiled at him. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m grateful you let me know. Which hangar are they in?”
Ned beckoned for her to follow him back to the lodge. “Looks like they’re all up there right now. They’ll probably be leaving soon, depending on when they can get a window.” He led her into the office and pulled up a holo screen. “The ship is in Hangar 08771A.”
Maya touched his arm gently in passing. “Thank you, Ned,” she said sincerely.
He looked over at her. “Let me give you directions…”
She smiled. “That would be perfect!”
He motioned towards the door and she stepped back out. He started pointing off in the direction of the airfield and gave her detailed directions on how to find the hangar before walking her to her car.
“Just follow this road around to begin with, and you’ll pick up the service road,” he told her as she got in. He closed the car door for her and waved her off.
She opened her window as she pulled slowly away. “You’re the best, Ned! Thank you!”
The big double gates opened, allowing her to pass through, and she drove around, finding the route he’d described easily.
As she approached the hangar she slowed down. No signs of life around, and the door was closed… but then, that wasn’t to say someone wasn’t on the ship already. She pulled forward, and parked the car along side the next hangar over, so it wouldn’t be spotted if anyone came out.
Hopping out as fast as she could without looking suspect, she powered up her holo and disconnected herself from her own XtraNET connection.
This time she was tapping into something completely different.
She put her holo into admin mode, and walked slowly towards Hangar 08771A, watching for any other signals. She picked up two machines with comms enabled in the hangar she had parked next to. Plus a couple of personal holo connections. She quietly kept walking.
Five paces later, she saw a new signal on her device: codeForceX_XC_094B_TWINC
That must be it, she thought to herself, recognizing the ship’s model in the name.
She looked around for somewhere to plant herself for a few moments. Somewhere she wouldn’t be spotted, or look suspicious if she were spotted. There was nothing nearby, and although she was on the right side of the hangars to be hidden from the road, anyone walking around behind the hangars would see her.
Deciding she would just have to talk fast if she were rumbled, she slumped down quietly on the hard, sandy ground against the back of the hangar. The signal jumped even higher. It was stronger here.
Small mercies, she noted to herself with a wry smile.
She got to work.
The thing she most needed to figure out was where they were going when they disappeared off-world. She already suspected the asteroid belt, but she couldn’t be sure. If she could figure out their flight time from the black box, she could use the average speed to pinpoint a distance, and narrow it that way.
Unless…
She swiped a few screens, diving deeper into the hard drive of the nav system. If she could access the last few flights this bird had taken… well then it would have coordinates and everything there.
ACCESS DENIED.
Ass burgers.
She tried something else.
ACCESS DENIED.
Fucking crapolo with an ass on top!
She looked up for a moment, letting her mind process the frustration. She was still exhausted, and time was running out. They could leave at any moment.
Her mind went blank.
Her eyes fixated on a point in space, and she allowed her brain the space to reset itself.
After a few moments, she had a thought. If she could find out what kind of encryption these systems used, then maybe she could find a crypto program to decipher it.
But that meant she needed access to the XtraNET.
Andskotinn!
She looked up into empty space again. She couldn’t use her connection. The big bad would trace her.
She breathed. Think, Maya. Think.
The personal holos next door!
She could piggy back off their XtraNet connection, get the crypto-program, and access everything she needed. They would never know. She excitedly flicked back to the network screen, and connected in with one of the personal devices in the next hangar. There seemed to be very little traffic going through it.
Perfect.
Getting to work again, she settled down with her butt on the ground, and her back against the hangar wall, legs straight out in front of her.
This may take a while, she told herself. If anyone shows up and asks what I’m doing, I’ll just have to turn on the water works and pretend I’m upset… People can’t bear to see a stranger cry.
Hope this works.
ArchAngel3, Yollin Space
General Lance Reynolds wandered into his private office. It had been a day of tedious meetings and balancing egos… but now it was time for the real work.
The door slid quietly closed behind him as the lighting adjusted for his arrival.
“Good evening, Lance,” the voice piped out to him.
“Good evening, ADAM.” Lance hung up his jacket and stepped around to his control console, with an antigrav chair and all the mod cons. “Want to update me on the Sark situation?” he asked.
“With pleasure,” ADAM replied, materializing a collection of holoscreens in front of the colonel. One frame maneuvered in front of all of the others; it was a video feed showing Joel and Sean taking down the scientist.
“As you can see, Molly’s team did a great job of intercepting the toxin.”
He swung a second holo frame out in front, dematerializing the first. “Then our guy, Sean Royale, neutralized the second threat.”
Lance leaned in a little to see the footage better. Keeping his eyes on the screen he asked: “So they didn’t figure out there were two devices?”
“Negative,” replied ADAM. “Although Joel Dunham did have the thought about 18 minutes after Sean neutralized the second device.”
“How do we know this?” Lance’s voice was analytical.
“He checked the cameras they had set up. I’m assuming that he made some cognitive association whereby something was niggling at him.”
The General made a mental note. “And Molly? Where was she in all this?”
“She developed the antidote off-world. I suspect the reasoning for this was the increased media pressure.”
The General stroked his chin, considering the situation as a whole. “Yes. I can imagine that would be difficult for her, given her background. It will be interesting how she handles that going forward. Keep me updated on that.”
“Sir?”
“Yes, ADAM.”
“There’s something else.”
Lance waited.
ADAM pulled forward another holoscreen. “It looks like Molly may have inadvertently attracted some more potential.”
Images of Maya flashed up on the screen, complete with footage from the security gate at the hangar.
Lance raised one eyebrow. “She’s been sniffing around?”
“More than that. She managed to hack into Molly’s ship and find the coordinates of the base.”
Lance smiled. “Well this is getting interesting.” He zoomed in on Maya’s image, committing her face to memory. “Anything else?”
“Yes, sir. Your hundred credits are in your account, from my account. Your betting wins.”
Lance laughed out. “Pha! Excellent. Thank you, ADAM.”
He smiled, leaning back in his chair.
Finally, he sat up. “Okay. Keep me apprised of the Sark situation. What’s the latest from the Yollins?”
Spaceport, Hangar 08771A, Outskirts of Uptarlung
Still reeling from the curveball Sean had lobbed them, the team sat around on the ship, wondering about their next move.
Crash quietly continued to eat his pizza.
Joel stopped pacing, and put his hands on his head, turning back to Pieter and Crash who were still at the table.
“Okay. How soon can we get out of here?” he asked Crash.
Crash checked the time on his wrist holo. “Still a few hours away from our window.”
Joel hardly showed any emotion. “Any way we can get bumped up?” he asked.
Crash finished chewing what was in his mouth and placed the rest of the slice down. “Yeah. The skies have been clear when I’ve been checking in. If it’s a quiet day, then they’ll probably be able to move us up.”
Joel pursed his lips tightly. “Okay. Let’s try it.”
Pieter hadn’t taken his eyes off Joel since he started speaking. He sat, looking up at him, and only now spoke. “You don’t want to contact Sean again?”
Joel shook his head. “No - he knew what he was doing. I dunno what game he’s playing, or who he’s really working for, but the city seems safe from the threat now.”
He paused, dropping his hands from his head, and wandered back to the table to sit. “Plus, I don’t expect Sean will be forthcoming, even if we were able to track him down.”
Pieter looked a tad disappointed and a little confused. “You don’t want to investigate? I thought that was what we did?”
Joel shook his head. “I don’t want us to get drawn into a game before we know what we’re playing. This is one to get Molly in on. She can see if Oz can dig anything up.”
He sighed, understanding the operational elements of this only too well. “We’re playing at a disadvantage right now.”
Pieter nodded. “Ah, I see,” he said. “I guess we should get packed up then.” He started to clear the pizza boxes away.
“Yeah! Remove any trace of meat products from the ship!” Joel joked.
Crash, who had started a holo call with ATC, slapped the box down out of Pieter’s hand, opened the lid with the free hand without his holoscreen attached to it, took out another piece of pizza, and put it into his mouth.
Pieter looked on surprised and amused.
Then Crash, holding the slice temporarily in his teeth, closed the lid, and handed the box gentlemanly back to Pieter with a grin.
They all laughed, and Crash moved away from the group, taking the pizza now into his hand, and starting to talk to whomever his option selections had put him through to.
Within the hour, they were taxiing out of the hangar; fine payment accepted, and with full clearance to take off this time.
They all sat up front in the cockpit.
Joel saw his opportunity to send Molly a quick message before takeoff. He opened his holo and started recording.
“Hi, Molly, it’s Joel. Just wanted to let you know that the threat is neutralized, and we’re on the ship with Crash heading off-world now. Hope all is good there. Looking forward to seeing you all soon!”
Joel clicked off his holo recorder, and sent the data packet to the secured server that would get the message to Molly.
He took a moment to collect his thoughts, and then turned to the others in the cockpit. He smiled, watching Crash finish his checks with Pieter watching intently, agog at the tech in front of him.
Joel raised a bottle of water to his comrades. “Well, congratulations on a successful mission, boys!”
Crash raised his fist in the air and Pieter scrambled for the open water bottle he’d wedged between his legs, raising it up in the spirit of the toast.
Joel couldn’t help but grin. “And thank you, Crash, for coming back to get us!”
Crash, his normal, collected self, cracked just a small smile. “Any time, boss. It was worth the kilometers just to have meat on my pizza.”
They erupted in laughter as the hangar doors closed behind them. The ship pulled out onto the road, and started its short trek over to the launch pad, under the guidance of Air Traffic Control.
Air Traffic Control came on over the radio. “Novelty to have you following our instructions, XC-094B,” came the quip.
Crash responded in his even pilot’s voice. “Always happy to comply with the folks keeping our asses from colliding.”
There was static on the line and a hint of laughter, and the radio channel closed out.
Crash flicked the channel to mute. “Assholes,” he said, humorously.
* * *
A few minutes later, unbeknown to anyone on the site, a quiet Estarian journalist poked her head out from behind the hangar. Checking that there wasn’t anyone left around, she stalked stealthily over to her car.
Getting in, she breathed a sigh of relief. Now that she knew exactly where they were going, her investigation into this strange off-world team could really begin.
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Common area
“Hey!” Paige walked into the common area, and plunked herself down on the sofa next to Molly. “Whatcha watching?”
Molly flicked the sound down on the main holoscreen. “I don’t even know. It started off as some history program, and now I don’t know what it is. Something about a special crystalline set of skulls…”
Paige had glazed over already.
Molly knocked the sound down even more, and turned to face Paige a little. “What you been up to all day? I haven't seen you since breakfast.”
“Oh, you know,” Paige waved her hands, casually. “Setting up the company structure for that nail polish project you’re going to help me with.” She tilted her head and tried to look innocent, like a little girl saying “Pleeeeeeaaaase?”
Molly hung her face in one hand, her arm now half folded defensively. She looked up, a tired look on her face. “That’s still happening, huh?”
Paige nodded. “You betcha, it is!” She narrowed her eyes. “Wait. Did you think I was just going to forget about it?”
Molly said nothing.
Paige had a look of mock indignation. “Is that why you agreed to it?”
Molly dropped her head back into her hands, hiding her eyes. “Maybe,” came her muffled response.
Paige grabbed a cushion from behind her and threw it against Molly.
Molly squealed. “Wait! Wait. It’s not fair. Hey…”
Paige hadn’t let go of the cushion and continued to beat her with it.
Molly surrendered. “I give up. I give up. I’ll do it.”
Paige stopped hitting her, allowing Molly to take the cushion off her. “Good,” she said, in a very final tone. “I need you to get going on the goddamn sciencing, though, now that the crisis is over.”
Molly sighed. “Okay. I’ll start tomorrow.”
Paige eyed her.
Molly confirmed. “Tomorrow. Promise.”
Paige lifted one eyebrow, as if she didn’t believe her.
Molly relented. “Okay, cross my heart, tomorrow I’ll get going on it.”
Paige looked satisfied. She glanced back at the holoscreen, watching it for a few moments. “So when are the boys back?”
Molly had gone back to watching the moving images too. “Tomorrow afternoon.”
Something occurred to her. She turned and looked back at Paige. “Hey, you know they’re bringing a new team member back with them, right?”
Paige didn’t miss a beat. “Is he hot?”
Molly looked back at the screen. “I didn’t say ‘he’ is a ‘he’.” She tried not to let Paige see her smiling a little.
Paige noticed Molly’s expression. “’He’ is a ‘he’! I can tell. So… is he hot?” she asked again.
Molly teased her. “I dunno, I haven’t met him.”
Paige humphed. “Would you know, even if you had?”
Molly laughed, and chucked the cushion back at her. “Yes. Of course! I have needs - just like anyone else.”
Paige bobbed her head. “Yeah, speaking of. We’re on this ancestor-forsaken rock. How are we even going to manage long-term?”
Molly laughed, but then started marinating on the question seriously. She paused, her eyes revealing she had gone somewhere else. “You do have a point,” she agreed.
Paige picked up another cushion and was hugging it close to her. “I suppose we could go into town. You know. Find the clubs and restaurants in the brochure.”
Molly looked confused. “What brochure?”
Paige rolled her eyes. “Really?
Molly caught on. “Oh, you were kidding!”
Paige nodded.
Molly paused again. “I dunno the answer to that. We’ll have to think of something.”
Paige grinned her most evil smile. “Unless this guy is tasty, in which case, I call dibs.”
Molly laughed. “You can have dibs, as long as he agrees to it, too. Apparently, using feminine wiles isn’t ‘playing fair’. At least that’s what I’ve been told.”
Paige went back to watching the holoscreen, which was now showing sweeping images through some area of space she didn’t recognize. “Sounds completely logical.”
Molly smiled. “Honestly, folks that say this kinda shit have no concept of logic.”
Chapter 22
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Common area
“They’re back!” Paige’s shoes clipped excitedly across the open-plan common area and out to the foyer of the safe house.
“Molly! They’re here!” she called excitedly.
Molly emerged from the kitchen, cup of mocha in hand. She placed it down on the table in the living space, and ambled towards the door.
Brock emerged from downstairs, too. “Guess they’re here!” he laughed. “You know, that girl would make a great early warning system!”
Molly grinned.
Paige ran back in, in full Labrador mode. She hadn’t opened the outside door yet. “They’re just coming out now. Oh my ancestors… it’s been so quiet around here without the full pack.” She was beaming.
Molly tried to calm her a little. “It’s okay, Paige. They’re back now. Give them a chance. And leave the door closed until they’re here. We don’t want to be clearing out asteroid for the next month.”
Paige waved a hand, indicating what Molly was saying wasn’t important, and clip-clopped back out to the foyer to greet the rest of the team.
“Oh, my stars!” she exclaimed. Brock had gone out to join her. Molly, now marginally intrigued wandered over to stand in the doorway to the foyer. There she saw both Brock and Paige with their noses pressed against the outside glass, watching the boys lug their packs in.
“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Paige was asking Brock.
Brock, in a somewhat distant tone, responded. “Girlfriend, I am most definitely seeing what you’re seeing…”
“I saw him first!” Paige asserted.
Brock looked at her out of the corner of his eye, one eyebrow now arched flirtatiously. “But if the boy prefers something else… who am I to deny him?”
Paige giggled and smacked him playfully on his arm with the back of her hand.
Molly rolled her eyes and wandered back into the common room to retrieve her mocha.
At least the troops are amused, she thought to herself.
Finally, they must have reached the door, because Molly felt the pressure drop; even despite the second door being sealed. Eventually the hub of activity spilled into the main building, with shouting and laughing and squeals of delight (mostly from Paige).
Joel was the last one through the door, but as he shuffled in, as fast at the crowd of team members would let him, he looked for Molly. Seeing her sitting on the main sofa in the communal living room, he raised his big hand in the air high above the heads of the others and waved to her with a big smile.
She waved back and mouthed, “Welcome home.” She didn’t move though. That kind of excitement and activity was just a little… overwhelming for her. She continued instead to nurse her mocha and wait for the hubbub to subside.
Neechie had sensed a disturbance in the force, and emerged from goodness knows where. He wandered over to Molly, hopped up on the sofa next to her, and settled with his chin on her thigh.
“Hey, boy,” she said, looking down at him. “It’s okay, we’ll just hang here for a bit. It’s going to be okay.” She stroked him gently from his head down his spine.
Paige’s voice cut through the general chatter. “Oh my ancestors… And we found the best curry place while you were away!”
Joel laughed. “Well anything that isn’t pizza sounds good right now.”
Pieter and Crash imploded in a chuckle and an exchange of knowing glances. Molly couldn’t help but wonder if they had an inside joke going. She made a mental note to ask about that at some point.
“How about we get take out?” Paige was saying. “Brock and I can go fetch it while you guys get washed up and unpacked.”
Pieter’s eyes lit up suddenly. “I’d quite like to see the asteroid, actually. Can I come with?”
Paige looked at Brock as if asking permission. Brock nodded. “Of course, my friend. I’m Brock by the way…” He held out his hand to shake it, and Paige made her own introduction.
It seemed decided. Pieter’s gear was abandoned against the nearest wall, and the three of them left together, Paige leading the way. “So this is your first time on an asteroid, then?” she started. Brock followed them out of the front door again, shaking his head smiling.
The crowd somewhat thinned, Crash waved to Molly and mumbled something about going to shower the space out of his pores.
Joel chuckled as he watched him head out down the corridor to the quarters. He placed his pack down next to Pieter’s abandoned gear, and then ambled over to where Molly was sitting. Exhausted but smiling, he plunked himself down on the sofa next to her.
“So, what’ve I missed?” he asked, starting the conversation.
Molly shook her head, and looked into her mocha. “Not much. Heard you saved the planet?”
Joel chuckled. “Well, slight exaggeration. It was more just the city.” He paused, remembering something. “And even then, I didn’t really. I stopped the decoy. It was your friend Sean who stopped the actual attack, much later; once we thought we were done, and ready to come home!”
Joel was shaking his head.
Molly’s mouth dropped open. “Why, what happened?”
“We kinda fucked up.” Joel confessed, explaining what had gone on.
When he was done, Molly shook her head in disbelief. “You mean Sean knew more than he was sharing with us?”
Joel nodded solemnly. He paused a moment, then decided he needed to raise it. “So, when were you going to tell me about Sean?”
Molly looked confused for a second, and then gasped, slapping a hand over her mouth.
“Fuck!” she said loudly, through her hand. Her eyes were wide with horror. “Joel, I didn’t. Fucking arse! I didn’t mean to- I completely forgot to tell you about him. I just got so distr-”
Joel waved his hands, trying to calm her. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I get it.” He paused, waiting for her to settle. “I kinda know what you’re like…” he said, smiling gently at her.
Molly was shaking her head at herself. “I’m sooooo sorry. How did you find out?”
Joel scratched the back of his head, a sheepish look in his eyes. “Well, erm. I…I nearly took him out.”
Molly exploded with laughter and amazement. “Joel, he’s built like a brick shithouse! How the fuck could you take him down?!”
Joel shrugged, secretly pleased she was impressed. “I dunno. He jumped me, and, you know… training. It just kicks in. I was secretly relieved that he turned out to be human, and not some kind of beast.”
Molly was still laughing. “I would have loved to have seen that!” she confessed.
Joel chuckled. “Pieter did. He can give you the low-down.”
“Heck,” Molly stared back down at her mocha.
Joel leaned over and put his hand around the mug. She let him take it and have a sip before handing it back.
“Thanks,” he said, more softly than he would normally talk to her.
Molly changed the subject. “So, this curry place they’ve gone to is pretty good.”
Joel edged back to his section of the sofa. “So I hear,” he said, referring to Paige’s enthusiasm. “I would have offered to cook, if they weren’t so set on it. It’s something I use to ground out after an op… cooking.”
Molly looked up from her mocha. “Really? Isn’t that just more work?”
Joel shook his head. “Nah. It’s methodical, but creative. And then there are the smells and stuff. It’s really soothing… and normalizing after the intensity of battle and travel.”
He paused. “Didn’t they ever mention having a post-op ritual in basic training?
Molly took a sip of her mocha. “Nope. Although, I always find myself antsy after an op.” Her eyes were down, but Joel noticed they had widened.
His eyes narrowed a little. “So… erm. How do you deal with that?”
Molly didn’t respond, and took another sip of mocha.
“Molly?” he pushed again.
She kept her eyes fixed on the floor in front of her. “Sex, normally. When possible.”
Joel laughed silently, trying to restrain his disbelief.
“So, errr, what did you do last time? Or after this op?” he asked, his eyes dancing with humor and anticipation.
Molly put her mug down on the table, and stood up. “I’m going to get the plates out, for when they get back with food,” she announced, her voice professional and her eyes now distant.
Joel got up too. “Great. I’ll go get my gear out of here.” He started to walk past her, and she hesitated.
Her hand reached out to his forearm, and rested on it for a moment.
“Hey, Joel…”
He turned to look at her.
She looked down.
Then stepped closer.
“I…”
Joel waited, giving her time to process and say whatever she was trying to say. For a moment he could have sworn he saw something in the way she looked at him. Then in a heartbeat it was gone.
She smiled. “It’s good to have you back.”
She stepped away, dropping her hand from his arm.
Joel’s heart sank.
He smiled his teammate smile. “Good to be back,” he agreed.
He waited for a moment, hoping to catch sight of whatever he had seen in her eyes a moment ago, and then, realizing the moment had flickered past, he strode across the room to collect his pack.
Plates forgotten, Molly sat down again on the sofa. She slumped backwards, watching him leave. When he was safely through the double doors, she allowed her head to drop back onto the back of the sofa.
“Fuck!” she whispered out loud to herself.
Neechie meowed sympathetically.
Oz started to say something. She could feel him coming online.
Oz, don’t you even…
He fell quiet again.
Gaitune-67, Safe House
Two weeks later, Joel was walking down the corridor in his workout gear. He had his workout tunes pulsing through his auditory implant as he swiped through his holo, selecting his favorites for a new mix.
Distracted, he reached out for the door handle to head down to the lower levels when the door flew open, and an oncoming deluge of excitement and laughter bowled him over. He hit the deck with a slap, as other bodies tumbled out and fell on top of him.
Unable to see what had hit him, he scrambled for his holo device. Realizing his left arm was pinned by a rather muscular weight, he instead swiped at the implant, tapping it to silent.
It was Brock’s voice he heard first. “Man, I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, sorry boss,” grunted Crash, pulling himself off the floor, one hand on the wall.
Brock, still laughing his head off and shouting competitive abuse at Crash, tried to compose himself to lift himself up off Joel’s chest. Every time Joel thought he had it together, Brock cracked up in giggles again, his limbs going like jelly.
Joel, slightly winded and shocked, couldn’t help but join in. The laughter was infectious.
He tried to catch his breath to speak. “Do you guys realize how dangerous that was?”
Crash had caught his breath. “Yes, sorry, boss. We’ll not run in the corridors again.”
He sniggered.
Joel breathed. “I’m not talking about that.” A grin spread across his face. “You do realize that I’m a highly trained, honed and toned mechanism of destruction, don’t you?”
Brock burst with another round of laughter, this time hissing through his teeth and curling up like a child being tickled. His body still pinned Joel, the machine of devastation, to the ground. Joel was immobilized, laughing again.
“Guys, guys…” he tried to compose himself. “Guys, what’s the hurry? What’s going on?”
Crash had managed to get to his feet and compose himself the fastest. “We’re on our way to pitch Molly the new name for the bird… I came up with it, but Brock wants to claim credit.”
Brock’s giggles had subsided and he’d managed to at least roll onto all fours, and steady himself for getting to his feet. “Yeah, except it was my idea.”
Crash grinned. “In your dreams, baby! We all know who the creative genius is around here.”
Joel, now released from Brock’s weight, sat up and started getting to his feet. “Sounds like you guys either need a tie-breaker…”
The pair looked at each other, eyes alert with what a good idea that was.
But Joel continued, “…or a den mother who will give you all the approval you’re seeking!”
Brock started giggling again, but Crash, not wasting a second, started jogging sideways. “I’m going to tell her first! Laterz, asshole!”
Joel, now on his feet, shook his head at the cavorting, and decided that this was going to be too good to miss. His workout forgotten, he followed Crash into the conference room where Molly was likely hiding out. Brock’s giggling indicated he was following behind them.
Joel arrived in the conference room, and was holding on to the doorframe, assessing the situation. Molly was sitting close to the door, with her back to it. Crash casually made his way around the table to sit opposite her.
She leaned back in her chair, allowing her holo screens to fade in order to see Crash. “So, tell me…” she was saying.
Joel went in and sat on Molly’s left. She looked over at him, half-expecting him to add something to the conversation. When he crossed his arms on the table and looked over at Crash, an amused look on his face, she realized he was here to observe. The shouting and laughing in the hallway was probably the prelude to whatever was about to unfold.
Crash started explaining. “Well, we were thinking that it needed to be catchy, but also majestic. And given that you’ve been doing all this mystical stuff with Paige-”
Molly glanced over to Joel, who looked at her, and then quickly back at Crash. She made a mental note to find out who had been gossiping about her failed meditation attempts.
Crash had paused, but continued when she looked back at him. “We wanted something that was, you know… of the ‘realm.”
Brock had managed to compose himself enough to walk to the conference room. Standing in the doorway, panting, he practically fell into the room. He spoke fast and loud, trying to spill the words out before Crash could.
“And that is why we want to call her, and fuck you, Chris Ashworth, the Phoenix Reign!”
Crash covered his mouth in an attempt to stifle a laugh.
Joel slammed the desk, now howling with laughter. “Fuck me! You guys are hilarious.”
Molly who had tried to keep it together, was unable to. Now, with Brock dramatically sliding down the wall towards the floor, and even the normally well-composed and buttoned-up Crash unable to contain himself, the whole thing made her burst out laughing.
“Phoenix Reign it is, then!” she concluded between bouts of hysterics.
Chapter 23
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Conference room
Molly was in the conference room, listening to the response to her debriefing download from Dr. Knotts, Eugene, and Ventus Facilities.
Knotts had given his thanks and was responding to the items she had laid out.
“… and so in response to your point about the Billingham Convention, it was an oversight on our part. We are in the process of decommissioning that part of the program, and have appointed an ethics committee to oversee the approval of other projects in the future.” He paused. “I hope that is satisfactory enough to avoid, erm… getting other authorities involved? So far we’ve managed to steer under their radar, thanks to you and your team’s expert discretion.” He hesitated, feeling awkward that he was talking to a camera, and didn’t have someone who was responding.
He scratched his head. “Feels like I’m sending a message in a bottle like this…”
He looked down at his holo notes and read the next item, his eyes scanning back and forth.
“Right. Yes. We did ‘rip off’ your paper.” He hadn’t looked up yet. A moment later he seemed to gather his courage and look up again to the camera. “I’m really incredibly sorry about this. I thought that because it was technically in the public domain, we would be free to use it… But, anyway. I’m sorry.”
Molly leaned forward and paused the video. She rewound it a few seconds and focused in on his facial expressions.
Just then, the door opened behind her and she could smell Joel’s cologne.
“Hey,” she said, playing the video at half time, checking what she thought she’d seen.
“Lack of credibility, there,” Joel said almost automatically. “Eyes off, fearful expression on his lower lip, oooh…” he waited for a couple more frames to pass. “Yep. That was contempt there; single side, lip raise.”
Molly paused the video. “Yeah. Thought that was what I’d seen.”
Joel sat down next to her. “So what’s the context? This is the Ventus guy?”
Molly nodded. “Yeah, the boss. Well, the one that met with me. Except, if my hypothesis is correct, he may not be the one calling the shots.”
Joel glanced at her. “Oh?”
Molly flicked back a few frames, leaving the screen on the contemptuous expression. “I suspect he’s just been forced to take responsibility for that fuck up, just there. Nothing about what he just said was congruent with the micro expressions.”
She sat back.
Joel indicated at the holo screen. “But did you get what you wanted?”
She smiled, and nodded brightly.
He smiled. “So, come on; what did they agree on?” he pressed impatiently.
She spilled, “I’m to be made into a partner! Plus, we still get our fee.”
Joel cocked his head. “Partner? Why would you want that? I thought you were just going to make sure they put in stuff so they had to play within the rules.”
She nodded excitedly. “Yeah, that too. But then, to make sure they keep those measures in place, they now have yours truly in the mix. Plus, I get to use their facilities to receive any materials we might need to have delivered elsewhere, so we can pick them up without being tracked.”
Joel raised his chin. “Ohhhhh,” he said. “So you’re more of a silent partner.”
Molly grinned. “Exactly that. I stay silent, and they let me have stuff delivered to their address. And they play by the conventions that are designed to keep life safe.”
She paused, looking up at the ceiling for a moment.
“Win. Win. Win,” she smiled.
Joel shook his head. “Silent partner. I’d like to see that.”
She playfully slapped his arm with the back of her hand. “Hey!” she said, understanding the dig.
Joel grinned. “Anyway, that’s good news. Operationally, as well as being able to keep that kind of research safe.”
He changed the subject. “I was wondering if we could have a look at the next few missions, then, and talk about how we’d like to expand the team next?”
Molly nodded. “Sure, what did you have in mind?”
He pulled up a new holo screen to view CaseHUB, and started talking through some options.
Epilogue
Later that evening, after they had had a group supper, Molly returned to the conference room to do some investigating with Oz.
There’s something I think you’ll find interesting.
Molly sat back down at the array of holoscreens Oz pulled up for her.
Oh, yeah?
Well, remember you were testing the details versus the large-scale patterns I can hone in on, by analyzing the language structures of code in different areas of the XtraNET?
Yeah?
Well, I’ve noticed something interesting.
Do tell.
You remember we got the safe house data from a search I’d set up?
Hmm.
And it returned the somewhat anomalous result that led us here…
Yeah.
Well that was one of my samples.
Of how many samples.
13 billion, 368 million, 140 thousand and 26.
Okay.
Then I happened to use some of the code on the server we were using to communicate with Sean.
And?
Oz threw the results and the patterns he’d detected onto the holo in front of her.
That is some seriously elegant shit! Molly felt herself getting excited.
Are you getting…?
Leave it, Oz.
Molly reread the code and then looked at Oz’s analysis again.
Does it show up anywhere else?
It does.
Oz produced the videos on a second holo frame and Molly waved it into her view.
It was encrypted, but it looked familiar, so I pattern-matched the code from the previous two samples in order to decode it.
The video clips started playing. It was the same video that Pieter had shown her of Sean capturing the second toxin device.
That means-
-that someone was tapped into Pieter’s cameras and was monitoring their every step?
Exactly. Have you found it anywhere else on the XtraNET?
I can’t scan the whole NET, simply because we’re downloading only packets at a time - to both cope with the huge distance, and to remain anonymous. But I did find one more thing that you’ll find… interesting.
A third holo frame started playing a video.
Oh, Oz, you’ve got the wrong one. This is of the workshop downstairs.
Oh, no… it’s the right one.
He paused, letting it play a little.
WE don’t have any cameras downstairs. And there is no signal or feed streaming anything in or out of this building. But-
Molly watched Brock hauling boxes from in front of the spooky door.
How come there is an encrypted video from there?
Yeah. How come?
I have no idea.
Brock had started moving the boxes back to cover up the door again.
Is this the only video from there?
No. The camera, wherever it might be hidden, seems to be motion-activated. This was just the first time anyone went near the sensor to trigger it. At least, since we got here, and as far as these videos tell us.
So where were these videos being stored?
All I can tell you is that they came up when I did a search. There is no data, no trail I can follow to tell us where the 1s and 0s are physically stored.
Molly sat back in her chair, eyes wide, mouth half open, mind completely blown.
* * *
Molly, you there? Molly?
Joel arrived into the room and sat down in the seat next to her. “Hey, Molly. You okay?” he asked her.
Her eyes were glazed over, as if she weren’t even in her body.
Joel spoke a little more loudly. “Okay, Oz, I dunno if you can hear me through Molly’s auditory implants, but I got your holo message. I’m here. What’s going on?”
Joel’s holo flashed. TRY NUDGING HER.
Joel reached out and pushed on her arm. Then her shoulder. “Molly…” he called out to her gently. “Oz, is this something to do with that meditation shit she’s been doing?”
Joel’s holo flashed again. I DON’T THINK SO. HER BRAIN WAVES HAVE BEEN SLIGHTLY ALTERED SINCE SHE’S BEEN DOING THAT BUT NOT ENOUGH TO PUT HER INTO A TRANCE.
Joel was showing signs of real concern. “Okay, so what’s going on with her - in her brain?”
I CAN’T TELL. I’M PUSHED OUT OF HER CORTEX SO I’M OPERATING MOSTLY THROUGH THE HOLO AT THE MOMENT.
The concern in Joel’s voice was mounting. “What was she doing before this happened?”
THINKING.
Joel chuffed. “Like that’s anything to write home about…”
Suddenly Molly took a deep breath and seemed to return to the room. She looked confused, like she was surprised to be there.
Joel put his hand on her arm, and then on her head and stroked her hair. “Hey, are you okay? What happened?”
Molly’s eyes darted left to right, as if reading. She pulled one of the holo screens towards her. “We’re being monitored. By something way more powerful than Oz.”
She stood up.
Oz, monitor all frequencies; electromagnetic and otherwise.
She headed for the door.
Joel spun around in his chair, watching her. Registering she was leaving, he got to his feet too, and followed.
Soon Molly was jogging down the corridor and towards the basement door. Joel had to practically run to keep up with her. “Molly, what’s going on?” he called after her, his face transfixed with worry.
“I need to check something,” she told him, with just a hint of excitement in her timbre.
She quickly pounded down the stairs and then through the empty workshop over to the door. She looked as if she were aiming to grab the handle and walk through it. Instead she stopped suddenly, just in front of it, and then turned around.
She looked up.
Joel caught up with her and stopped beside her. He looked up at where she was looking, trying desperately to understand what was happening.
Are you monitoring everything, Oz?
Yes. Recording on all possible channels.
Molly waved in the direction of the camera.
Anything?
Nothing.
Not even a blip in a circuit somewhere?
Nothing.
Molly paused, thinking. Joel just watched, knowing better than to try and get an answer at this stage.
Molly looked at the ground, wracking her brain for something else to try.
Just then, she became aware of a faint rumbling, as if something around the area was powering up. A red glow started flashing, filling this whole corner of the workshop.
Molly and Joel looked around, looking for the source of the light and the humming.
An audio feed cracked on, and static sound filled the room.
“Congratulations, Molly Bates. And Team.”
The voice was commanding, and older. “You have earned the right to pass.”
The pair looked at each other, eyes wide, and ears disbelieving.
Holy fuck!
Holy fuck is right.
The heavy, metal, reinforced door of mystery - with no keypad or access point - seemed to be unlocking. Mechanical parts sliding over each other made a sound that thrilled Molly to her core. A thrill ever-so-slightly different from the thrill she had looking at the elegant computer code not long ago.
Joel immediately stepped in front of Molly, and stood strong, adrenalin putting him in full battle mode. She rushed forward, though, intent on seeing whatever was happening up close and personal. She moved to the door, gathering intel through all of her senses; listening to the door, looking for the moving parts or any signs of an access point appearing.
Joel tried to pull her back, but she shrugged him off, enthralled by the unfolding of something she couldn’t understand.
The door opened a crack and a musty scent, carried on cold air, wafted out.
Without thinking, Molly reached out and pulled on the door, heaving it open. Joel grabbed her hand.
“What are you doing?”
Molly blinked at him. “Well, duh. I’m having a look.”
She pulled at the door. It was heeaaaavvy. As soon as it was open enough, she turned and pushed a little to create enough space to walk through easily. Somewhere in there, Joel started helping.
As their eyes adjusted to the darkness, they could see another small corridor. Short. There was a set of double doors at the end, and another to the left. A damp musty smell hung in the air. It was as if no being had been there for decades.
Molly felt excitement well in her chest. She started to move forward, but Joel pulled her back, stepping in front of her.
“Uh uh,” he told her definitely. “Geeks behind Gladiators. You don’t know what’s in there.”
Something in his tone said that even though he was trying to be “space marine honorable,” his actions were actually because he cared.
Molly appreciated the sentiment. Even in this moment of finally seeing what might lie behind this door, she noticed his hand slip from her arm as he stepped in front of her.
Joel moved forward, well aware that if he didn’t get on with it, Molly would get out in front of him, and walk into who knew what.
He moved towards the first door. “We sweep like in training, yeah?” he instructed Molly.
Molly couldn’t see anything but his big shoulders in front of her.
“Fine,” she said, a little frustrated.
Joel moved to the door. He had no weapon on him, but this couldn’t wait for him to fetch one. And besides, what was going to be alive - that he could shoot – anyway? The thought of the dimensional travelers whipped through his mind. He shuddered.
He pushed through the door. It was stiff and heavy, but there were no handles or visible locks. It swung open against his weight. He headed in, Molly in close proximity behind him and straining to see past him. He headed into the room and scanned it visually, his eyes now adjusted to the dark. He told Molly to hold by raising his arm vertically head height with his fist clenched.
She huffed, and stood, noisily stomping her boots together like an impatient child. He ignored her and moved through the room. Molly watched him disappear along the wall.
Something started humming, and lights started flashing here and there. A glow started up around the periphery, as if the room was waking up.
Joel’s voice came through the darkness. “What did you do?” he hissed.
Molly used her normal indoor voice. “Nothing. Jeez.” But now, with light revealing more of the detail of the room, Molly moved closer to an object in front of her. It seemed like a console. Or table.
Console… definitely a console.
There was another in front of it, and another to the side.
Molly looked over as far as she could see. The walls were becoming illuminated, and the size of the room was quickly becoming apparent.
Molly stood with her mouth open. She was standing in what could only be an operations room. Consoles hummed, and screens started flickering on. There were giant star maps plotted on a holo over on the far side of the enormous room. Maps she didn’t recognize. Space she’d never seen before.
She looked across at Joel, who was crouched a little, having been stealthily moving through the darkness. Now revealed in plain sight, he looked like a doofus.
“Ops room?” she asked him.
Joel stood up straight and looked around, hands now on his hips. “Yup. Ops room.”
Molly grinned, the excitement of childish adventure spilling out of her. She jumped up and down on the spot silently squealing and clapping her hands together.
Joel looked over at her, grinning at her enthusiasm. “You look like you’re gonna burst.”
“Eeeeeeeee!” she squealed audibly this time. “I think I might.”
Well that’s another way to kick me out of your circuits.
Molly ignored Oz, noticing another door on the other side of the control room.
Joel looked over the equipment and wandered over to one of the consoles. “Looks like super advanced shit. Enough tech here to run a war…”
Molly was already heading towards the next door. She jogged past him, catching his attention. His eyes followed her as she approached the door that would lead them deeper into this place.
Joel realized what was happening. “Wait!” he called after her.
Without hesitation, Molly pushed her way through the second door. Again, she stepped into blackness, her night vision shot to bits from the lights coming through next door.
“Molly!” Joel was calling after her. “Are you sure you want…” and with that he was standing right beside her, also straining to see into the darkness.
She stepped inside, and generators started to hum. Lights started coming on at various points. The pair stood watching, trying to make out what was there. There was lots of space… but after the space, there were racks. Racks and racks of…
“Weapons!” Joel breathed.
Molly wandered over to the racks. These were some big ass guns and stunners. She ran her fingers over a couple of them. “Don’t recognize any of these from my time in the military. They look kinda hi-tech.”
Joel had moved over to one of the racks and was examining one without touching it. He peered closer, able to see more with each second, as the ambient light increased gently. “Yep. Definitely nothing here from the Sark System. This is alien.”
Molly giggled. “So FUCKING cool!” she exclaimed.
Joel stepped back out from the racking to see her emerge from another row, and walk briskly down the aisles.
“Shit!” she said now in her outdoor voice, calling back to him.
Joel started jogging to catch up to her. He had no idea how big this room was, but it was starting to feel like a warehouse. An underground frikkin’ warehouse behind a secret door, which someone had let them venture through.
His internal conspiracy theorist suddenly went nuts: Maybe it’s a trap. Maybe it’s a government organization that they’d happened upon, and now they were going to kill them. Maybe it was a recruitment center for terrorists.
Shit - he should give his conspiracy theorist voice a fokking name, at this point.
Molly interrupted his thoughts. “Big fuck-off artillery down this way…” she told him.
He caught up to where she was standing, looking down an aisle with different types of racks holding shells, bombs, and all kinds of badassery.
“Enough to run a war,” he repeated.
Molly nodded. “Looks about right,” she said. “You recognize any of this shit?”
Joel shook his head. “I’m going to go ahead and assume it’s all from outside our system. This tech is too advanced. We’d need to look at it more carefully to figure out some of this shit. All I can say at this point is that it doesn’t look like someone was just trying to put on a fireworks show for the local PTA meeting.”
Molly glanced over at him. She grinned the biggest grin he had ever seen. His heart stopped for a moment. And then she was gone.
“Hey, wait up…” he called after her. She was jogging back through to the ops room.
“Come on!” she called excitedly. “I wanna see what’s behind door number three!”
* * *
Meanwhile, back in the workshop, Brock had re-emerged with a fresh mocha from upstairs. He went back to his workbench and reactivated the holo frames he had left out.
He paused. Something felt… different. He looked around his workspace. Everything was as he had left it.
He started reading one of the holo screens, getting his head back into what he’d been doing. Absentmindedly, he reached for his mocha, and brought it to his lips. To sip it, he had to pull his eyes from the screen. He lifted his head up and tipped the cup back, allowing him to take in a mouthful of the beautiful, hot nectar.
And that’s when he saw it.
Across the workshop, the door. The door was opened. His eyes went wide. His heart went to his mouth.
His mouthful of mocha sprayed all over the workbench.
“HOLY FUCK WITH A DEVIL ON THE ICE CREAM!!!” he shouted without thinking.
“Molly!” he shouted. “Molly! Molly!”
He ran towards the stairs, then back to the workbench to see if he could call her on her holo. Then he changed his mind again and decided to try and find her.
Conference room, he thought.
He scrambled towards the stairs, nearly falling over himself. He had his foot on the first step when he heard voices.
Molly’s voice.
From THE OTHER SIDE of the open door.
He barely remembered getting there, but next thing he knew, he had covered the length of the workshop and was at the door, watching Molly and Joel come out of a room off to the left, down a very short corridor.
“It’s incredible!” Molly said to him excitedly. Her face beamed.
Brock stepped back away from the doorway.
Molly looked at him. “Brock, what’s wrong?”
Joel looked at him too. “He’s gone… pale.”
Brock looked down at his arm, and pinched it with his other hand.
Joel grinned. “Not dreaming, buddy. Come on, Molly wants to check out that door at the end of the corridor.”
He beckoned for Brock to follow. “I have the job of stopping her from setting off any booby traps, or starting up the Etheric Wars with the shit we’re finding in here,” he joked.
Brock couldn’t believe how relaxed they were. His eyes still wide and his heart now beating out of his chest, all he could do was nod. He took a few steps forward.
Molly skipped off to the double doors at the end of the corridor, followed closely by Joel.
Brock silently and cautiously traipsed after them.
Now more confident they weren’t going to step into a room holding a monster or a trap, Molly burst through the double doors to find herself standing on a platform, overlooking what could only be described as a hangar-deck.
As the lights slowly started coming on, it became apparent that this was where they kept the ships. Starships. Actual space-going starships! None of the interplanetary shit they’d been playing with.
No, these were the things of the legends. The things that they had assumed existed in other systems where civilizations would trade with and fight each other.
Dozens of ships were all around. And they had guns, and missiles, and all kinds of “toys” for blowing things to shit.
But there, in the center, was a ship to rival all ships. It looked like it could carry at least a hundred troops, and took up most of the deck. But that wasn’t what had instantly grabbed Molly’s attention. Painted on the side was something that made her squeal with sheer delight.
She couldn’t believe it.
Her head spun, and she felt dizzy.
After all these years, searching the far reaches of the dark web, tracking someone who was by all accounts untraceable, she had begun to believe the rumors that maybe she had never existed.
That perhaps she was just a legend to make children eat their vegetables, or keep empires in line to protect the humans.
But here was proof. Real, actual evidence. Her childhood hero was real.
And just as badass as she had imagined her to be.
Painted on the side of the ship was an image of a human female skull. With fangs.
FINIS
Called
The Ascension Myth Book 3
Chapter 1
Gaitune-67, The Other Side of the Demon Door
Molly, Joel and Brock stood on the balcony overlooking the most enormous hangar deck they had ever seen. Advanced starships cluttered the deck, positioned as if prepared to scramble at a moment’s notice.
Awestruck, they remained motionless for several minutes, emotionally swinging between disbelief and excitement.
Joel was the first to try to speak. “Isn’t that…?” His voice trailed off.
Molly nodded, her mouth hanging open, still taking in the scene.
She could hear Brock breathing behind her. “Holy mother of fuckery!” he whispered under his breath.
Molly finished Joel’s sentence. “The Queen Bitch’s insignia,” she mouthed, breathlessly.
She’d spent so many hours searching as a child, fantasizing about the Etheric Empress, wishing she could be one of her guards and fight the good fight for the Empire.
For years she had worked in secret, hijacking her parents’ EI in order to raid the dark web for intel of sightings or references in history, near and far. Anything that would give her a clue or direction.
The pull the legend had on her was deep. And profound. And inspired.
When the team had shown her the painted-over insignia in one of the corridors just after they had moved into the safe house, she hadn’t dare imagine that it might have been the insignia. The female skull with fangs. The slight ridges and the odd English letter they could make out… Rationally, it had been inconclusive.
But now, standing on the platform overlooking the immense hangar with ships of all different sizes—with that insignia on every single one of them!—was like a lucid dream materializing in front of her eyes.
And then she saw it. The image that would confirm everything she had ever wondered.
Her heart missed a beat.
Painted on the side of the cockpit of the largest ship in the center of the hangar was a photorealistic painting of the Empress herself. Molly had never seen a picture of her before. She had read accounts of her being stunningly beautiful, and the usual about her being formidable and deadly. But she’d never been able to find an image.
But the painting of the fanged human female, the Queen Bitch herself, was enchanting. It seemed to have a mystical quality that invoked a sense of power and pride in those who looked upon it. Molly could tell from the reactions of Joel and Brock that it wasn’t just her.
“We should get the others in here,” she said, finally becoming aware of what was happening. “We’re going to need to look into what all of this,” she waved around the hangar, “is, and why it’s here.”
Joel cut in, almost absently, “—and if we can play with it.”
He was still transfixed by the enormous ship in the middle of the hangar. Or rather, by the image of the dynamically beautiful Bethany Anne painted on the side of the ship.
“Who is she, though?” he asked, not really understanding Molly’s reference to the Queen Bitch.
Molly was beaming, and still enthralled. “That is Bethany Anne. Human turned vampire, Savior of the human race, Yollin Empire, and Etheric Queen of Everything.”
She took a breath, and seemed to ground herself a little.
Brock finally found his voice. “But wasn’t she a bad guy? Like a villain? My grandparents used her as a warning when we were being bad.” His look of awe was slowly morphing to mild concern.
He continued, his speech accelerating a little as his fear kicked in. “And if this is her stuff, and we’re here, living on top of one of her disused bases, then might she be coming back for it some time?”
There was a loud crackling, then an audio feed similar to the one which had initially granted them access started up again.
“She’s not coming back any time soon,” announced the human-sounding voice. “But there are things we need to discuss before you can play with these…toys.”
Molly and Joel looked at each other in shock. Molly twigged first. “He can hear us?” She immediately looked around for cameras and microphones.
Joel scanned the other direction behind her. “Seems like,” he agreed softly.
The voice chuckled a little. “Yes, yes. I can hear you. And see you. But enough of that for now. Assemble your team and then we can talk. Join me in the conference room through the second corridor when you hit the hangar deck. Thirty minutes. I’ll explain everything.”
The voice clicked off.
Brock’s eyes went wide. “This is some scary-ass juju. If this is the Queen Bitch’s stuff then this is bad. If someone has stolen her shit and put it here, then this is double-bad.”
Molly pursed her lips. “Brock. Chillax. It’s fine. This is going to be fine. If the voice on the comm wanted to harm us, he probably would have done it already. If this is Bethany Anne’s stuff, then we’ll just give it back to her. And if someone stole it from her, then we’ll hunt them down, kick their fokking asses, and then give it back to her. It’s not a big deal.”
Her eyes danced with glee as she spoke. “But I for one am excited to find out what the hell is going on and why we ended up here.” She turned to face her comrades.
You’re thinking about how this safe house ended up on our list again, aren’t you?
Yes, I am. I’m also thinking this voice might be able to give us some answers.
When Molly spoke again, her shoulders were back and her voice had a kind of resonance neither Brock nor Joel had ever seen in her before. “OK, let’s gather the troops, let them know what’s going on, and then find that conference room and get some answers.”
Joel and Brock shifted, their awareness still fixed on Bethany Anne’s image behind her. They nodded and started to shuffle back out of the door, their gaze being the last thing to leave the hangar.
Molly grinned. “This is going to be fucking epic.”
Unknown Apartment, Downtown Spire
A lone blogger worked late into the night from the little desk in her studio apartment. She finished typing, then scrolled through the holo screen, checking for sense and making sure she hadn’t left any distinguishing features like vocabulary or sentence structure that might give her away.
Finally satisfied that it was going to appear completely anonymous, she hit Submit. The article went into publish status almost immediately, appearing on the planet’s largest independent alternate news site, Whistleblown.
The view counter started going up immediately. She’d chosen a catchy title, and since the toxin saga was still a hot topic, she knew that an alternate view to what the mainstream media outlets were publishing would be well received.
Besides, people needed to know the truth.
Not the whole truth. After all, there was a reason why Molly Bates and her team felt they needed to operate from off-world. But they needed to know enough of the truth to understand that Molly Bates was not the big bad here.
They needed to know who the real enemy was, and who had really set up the threat to the population of Spire.
They also needed to understand that those people, with their underhanded agendas and fervent desire to accumulate wealth and power, were dangerous. They had already murdered dozens of people in their toxin experiments, they were most likely responsible for Senator Dewitt’s demise, and they had certainly killed one scientist and kidnapped the other.
They were not good people.
And they had power.
A deadly combination. And the only way to break their grip was to expose them completely.
The truth—as her grandma always told her—would indeed set people free.
The Toroid Desert Club, Outskirts of Spire
The following afternoon, in a secluded country club on the edge of the Narvanah desert, a group assembled behind closed doors. Getting to the secure location had been a challenge. It was imperative that no one track them, which was especially difficult given their high-powered positions, entourages and security details.
Nevertheless, within minutes of the calls they each received at four o’clock in the morning, they had started making arrangements to be in attendance. Skipping this meeting was not an option.
“The article has had over twenty million views.” The man who spoke showed a hint of admiration in his voice. Twenty million views in half a day was impressive by any standard, and Mac Kerr was always impressed by people who could get results. After all, it was filtering for that quality which had allowed him to survive.
“And do we know who posted it yet?” The second voice was Mr. Andus. He walked around the wood-paneled board room, then sat down in the big leather chair at the head of the table. The attendees all turned to look at him.
It was Mac who answered. “No,” he told his leader. “The site is deliberately designed to keep its contributors anonymous. Makes it hard to fact-check, but these people aren’t interested in that. Their goal is to get it out there and raise enough red flags to prompt authorities and other people with access into investigating further.”
He leaned toward Mr. Andus, his forearms resting on the table.
Andus tapped the arms of his chair with the forefingers of each hand. “But this site is fairly reputable?” he asked, assessing just how much of a problem they were up against.
Mac nodded, glancing briefly at Jessica for support. “Yes, it has been in the past,” he confessed, looking back at Andus.
Andus pursed his lips. His eyes were steely, in the way they became when he was not pleased. Only people who had worked closely with him would know that, though. “So it’s going to be hard to debunk the article. Or undermine it,” he clarified.
Mac nodded reluctantly. “Potentially,” he admitted, now wishing he hadn’t been the messenger on this little tidbit.
Jessica cut into the conversation, her whole demeanor that of someone who had all the answers. “Clearly we just need to go back to the source to clear all this up.” She flicked her dark hair over one shoulder with her right hand and kept her chin high, feeling that it made her look more assertive.
Mac watched her perform for Andus. Mac thought it just made her appear arrogant, but then he never had liked assertive women. He glanced over at the new guy, who was sitting on Andus’ other side diagonally opposite from him. The new guy didn’t visibly react. He just sat there quietly taking it all in. Mac tried to catch his eye to get some support, but couldn’t. He looked straight-laced, but to be in this room, that couldn’t be the whole truth.
Andus’ attention had shifted to Jessica. “What did you have in mind?” he asked, his eyes a fraction less cold.
Jessica paused, enjoying her moment. “I think we need to discredit the Bates girl,” she said simply.
Mac tried really hard not to roll his eyes. He was a seasoned criminal in the Outer System and he was sitting here listening to this? He struggled to control the contempt in his voice when he spoke. “So how, precisely, Ms. Newld,” he said slowly, “do you suggest we achieve that?”
Jessica glared at him and blinked. She held the glare, as if mentally boring a hole in his skull with her eyes. “We need to send her on rigged cases, and set her up to fall hard in front of the media.” Only then did she relinquish her glare to look at Andus. He was the decisionmaker here, she reminded herself. “Then no one is going to believe she was innocent in the toxin scare,” she told him.
Mac couldn’t resist. “But Jessica,” his tone was patronizing now, “wasn’t it one of your convoluted plans to set her up in the toxin scare in the first place?”
Jessica’s eyes darted back to him, and then her head followed slowly, like an animal toying with its prey.
“Yes, it was,” she told him. “And it worked very well.” Her tone was furious, but she’d dialed it back to remain somewhat civil.
Mac wasn’t buying it. He leaned back as if he’d already won. “Not according to this article it didn’t. She wasn’t even taken in for questioning, so our media contacts had no leverage.” He held her gaze, dying to look at Andus’ reaction but resisting to avoid revealing that he was actually jockeying for influence with Andus.
Jessica’s face turned to stone.
Andus cut in, mildly amused by the backbiting. “Now, now, children. Jessica’s plan might have legs,” he said slowly. “We just need to be careful about the execution of it. Molly Bates needs to fail.” He paused, turning his ornate tea glass around as he mulled the decision.
“And fail publicly,” he concluded.
He took a sip of mint tea before looking into the glass and placing it back into the saucer on the exquisite dark wood table. He looked up at the group. “Do you think you can all work together this time to make it happen?”
Mac was the first to respond. “Yes, sir.”
Jessica sighed, then relented. “Yes sir.”
The remaining gentleman in the meeting spoke for the first time. “Yes, sir,” replied Garet.
Chapter 2
Gaitune-67, Secret Basement Base, Weapons Warehouse
Brock led Paige and Pieter through the rather intimidating operations suite to take a peek at the weapons room beyond.
Stepping through the door at the far end, they entered the huge warehouse. Brock led them around the edge of the room past aisle upon aisle of advanced killing technology.
Crash ambled a few paces behind, calmly taking it all in. When he saw the missiles aisle, though, he whistled through his teeth, belying his cool exterior. “That is a shit-ton of carnage waiting to be wreaked on something motherfucking deserving.”
Brock looked past Paige and Pieter to eye Crash in mock judgment. “Ignore the war-hungry crazy man behind you,” he said. “But he’s right.” He turned and gestured at the warehouse behind him. “There is enough ammo here to do all kinds of damage. And I have no idea how to use it yet just from looking at it. The tech is waaay advanced.”
Paige shook her head in disbelief. “I just… I can’t believe all this has been right next door to your workshop all this time!”
Pieter nodded in agreement, and glanced over at Paige. “Yeah, like, what the hell?” He paused a moment. “I wonder what programming language they used if this isn’t Sarkian?”
Paige and Brock ignored the overly geeky question.
Paige’s eyes lit up suddenly, remembering. “So where’s this ship with the vampire on it?” she asked.
Brock nodded back the way they had come. “Yeah, you’ll see that when we go to the conference room.” He checked his holo. “We should make our way down there now, actually.”
He led them back through the ops room into the main corridor. Turning deeper into the base, he walked through the double doors to the hangar where he had stood in awe just twenty minutes before.
They marched through as a group and Brock paused, letting them take in the largest ship and the whole arrangement of flying machines.
He turned and looked at their faces, grinning. “Yup,” he said, satisfied. “That was pretty much my reaction.” He beamed at them, opening his holo and snapping a picture of them.
Paige noticed, laughed, and slapped his arm. “So this is, what? A space base?” she asked, still consumed by awe at the huge hangar and its contents.
Brock nodded. “Seems like. We’ll find out more at this meeting. Come along,” he told them. “Briefing room is this way.”
He headed down the metal steps to deck level, then walked around the perimeter past one set of steel double doors, keeping to an outlined walk way painted onto the floor. About a third of the way around the semicircular deck they came to another set of double doors. Brock pushed them open and held one door for the others to enter.
Crash strode through first. He’d hardly said a word, but Brock could tell from the flavor of his blank expression he was processing what was going on.
Pieter followed Paige through. “How big is this place?” he asked.
Brock shrugged, releasing the door, and continuing down the corridor. “No idea yet,” he admitted casually. Something caught his attention, and he glanced back as they walked.
The door he had just released was self-closing, and as it swung shut, the air pressure seemed to change minutely. Brock made a mental note to investigate it later. It felt like maybe the doors automatically sealed, which would be useful on many levels.
The group continued down the dimly lit corridor. The floor was a little rubbery, like it was electrically insulated. The walls, which seemed to glow, were made of some highly evolved nano-carbonate as far as Brock could tell; a lightweight building material that was also capable of transferring current. And therefore information, he mused. Inset into the walls were holo panels and then little shiny discs now and again, plus laser lights.
He was going to have fun figuring out all the stuff on this base. He suspected it was less of a building and more of a cyber entity, living, breathing and thinking at the highest level. Even as a genius, he felt that comprehending even a fraction of how this complex base worked was going to be amazingly tough.
They passed a bunch of other doors to rooms or labs or ancestors-knew-not-what, and then Brock entered the meeting room where the other members of the team had already assembled.
“So…what? This guy is going to show up in person then?” Joel was asking Molly.
Molly shrugged. “Perhaps. Or maybe he’s just going to keep talking through the audio feeds.”
Joel checked the time on his holo.
Paige, Pieter, Crash, and Brock filed into the room and took seats around the conference room. The room was comfortable, soundproof and probably a lot of other things. It was Brock who noticed that the chairs they were sitting on didn’t touch the ground.
“Booja!” he whooped jovially when he realized. “Antigrav chairs!”
Everyone’s heads disappeared below the table as they looked under the chairs to check out the discovery. All except Molly, who bounced up and down, wondering how they were calibrated for the weight on them.
Paige sat up and managed to catch Molly’s attention. She was about to launch into a bunch of questions when the audio system clicked on.
“Greetings of the day be upon you, as you say in your system.” It was the voice.
Molly tapped her ear to signal that they needed to focus, looking at Paige. She needn’t have bothered. Paige was already peering around for the voice. Or speakers.
In fact, Crash, Paige and Pieter all looked stunned as they heard the man for the first time.
“First, may I introduce myself?” The sound came from everywhere at once.
Paige’s eyes continued to flicker around the room, and she looked a little disoriented.
A hologram materialized in the center of the table, then moved to the wall and spread itself out to create a three-dimensional screen. The high-tech holo screen flickered and then enlarged again before displaying an eerily real hologram of a young-looking general.
“My name is General Lance Reynolds. Previously of the Etheric Empire, presently I hold a high position in the Etheric Federation.”
Paige, mesmerized by what she was seeing and still in a state of awe, raised her hand and waved at him.
Lance chuckled. “Hello there, young Paige Montgomery.”
Molly looked shocked. “You know her name?” she asked, suddenly wondering what else he knew.
Lance was still smiling. “Of course. I know all your names.” He looked in the direction first of Crash. “This is Chris Ashworth. Call sign Crash. Pilot and accomplished collector of Spaceport fines.”
Molly shot Crash a look, suddenly realizing that all the bitching he’d been doing over the Spaceport fine when they first had to skip the planet in a hurry wasn’t actually his first incursion.
Lance continued. “Then we have Joel Dunham. Former Space Marine for the Central Sark System’s military. Now your Second-in-Command.”
Joel nodded, as if he were being introduced on a game show.
Lance moved on to Pieter. “And then we have your newest recruit, Pieter Alexander, a computer genius with a misspent youth, but a boat load of spunk when it comes to code writing…, and commenting on rewrites.” Pieter blushed. Molly watched him carefully. There was clearly something Lance knew that she didn’t. She filed that one away for later too.
“And then we have Paige Montgomery, former kidnap survivor, former cheerleader, and former personal assistant to the former Senator. Now she keeps this place running, but she’s secretly biding her time before she can build her own empire and change the face of fashion in the Central Systems.”
Molly’s eyes suddenly locked on Paige, surprised by the General’s last comment. Paige’s chest went a deep red, and her eyes focused hard on the table. She looked like Lance had just shared her deepest secret with the class.
The General wasn’t done. “And then we have Molly Bates, ejected from the Space Corp for a 4077.” The entire team stared at her, their eyes wide. Molly kept her eyes fixed on the holo of Lance, but she could feel the weight. Her breath became short, and embarrassment swelled in her upper chest. She couldn’t see him, but she could swear Joel was smiling a little.
“So what’s your point, General? You know everything about us. You’ve probably been reading our diaries. So what?” Molly found her courage as she spoke, even though emotion denied her enough air for her vocal cords. “Why are we here? What is this place? And why did you suddenly give us access to this little set up of yours?”
She paused for a moment, catching her breath.
Lance opened his mouth to answer, but Molly didn’t stop there.
“And is this shit all Bethany Anne’s? Does that mean she’s coming back? Or did you steal it from her?”
Movement caught her eye. She noticed Brock was becoming quite animated in his agreement with her last questions.
Lance had picked something up off his desk, and now when he raised it to his mouth Molly saw that it was some kind of smoking material. It wasn’t smoking though, so perhaps it wasn’t lit.
He sucked on the end of it, waiting an extra moment to make sure that this time she had finished ranting.
Molly sat back a little in her chair, passing the torch of communication to the man who had materialized in front of them.
Lance nodded and started speaking slowly and deliberately. “Yes, this is Bethany Anne’s equipment,” he answered. “It’s her base, actually, and it’s one of many across the Etheric Empire.” He paused again, giving his words extra emphasis now. “However, I didn’t steal it, and she’s not coming back.”
His eyes developed a distant look for a moment. Molly cocked her head and leaned a little closer to the hologram, now that he wasn’t looking at her for the moment. The general sighed. “Not any time soon anyway,” he mumbled.
He continued, brightening a little. “As for why you’re here, well, perhaps that will become clear in a few moments. There are some things I need to explain.” He became very serious, assuming the look of a hard-ass general again.
“Long ago, in a galaxy far, far away…” he started. Then something flickered across his face. “No wait. That’s not right.” he corrected himself, his face straight, but his eyes betraying him.
Molly sniggered.
Looks like this guy, prying prick though he may be, at least has a sense of humor, she thought.
Lance composed himself, and cleared his throat to continue. “The Etheric Empire was formed by one Bethany Anne, a human, turned vampire, with Kurtherian technology. Together with her team they defended Earth, jumped through the annex gate which you will have studied in your geography lessons at school, and then made her way across the Yollin empire. There she defeated the Yollin King, who was hell bent on taking over any civilizations he could for the purpose of extracting their raw materials and absorbing their tech. Having removed the threat, she created an Empire. She used that Empire to crush the seven Kurtherian clans that were using people against each other and rid the universe of their influence.
Unfortunately, one of the clans escaped, limping their way out of our awareness some time back.”
He looked annoyed for a moment, “You can say Bethany Anne has a serious OCD complex about getting rid of that specific clan.” His face cleared up, “So, she went to implement a serious fence around a special planet, picked up a few friends and they are presently on a mission to locate this clan and have a talk with them.”
His eyes narrowed, “And by have a talk, what I mean is she plans on wiping them out of existence. She doesn’t forgive disrespect of her people very easily. I assume this clan, whoever is left, hasn’t changed their ways, and she won’t change hers. So, somewhere,” he waved a hand around inside the hologram but pointing out, “in space, she is trying to find these sonsabitches and step on them like you might a cockroach on Earth.”
The team was rapt, taking in the story.
Brock suddenly became agitated, wanting to ask a question. He put his hand up, as if he were still in school. The General looked at his hand.
Cool tech, eh?
Yeah, he must have a couple of cameras in here feeding him enough data for a three-dimensional image that replicates in front of him.
Lance nodded and Brock asked his question.
“But Bethany Anne… Wasn’t she some kind of…of monster?”
Lance noticed the anxiety in his voice. That was good, he thought. Best not completely allay his fears. He chuckled to himself while keeping his face perfectly straight.
He looked at Brock. “She is an enhanced human, as a result of this Kurtherian technology. But the term ‘monster’ depends on who you ask. She struck fear into the hearts of those who would prey on the weak. But she stands for justice.”
He looked down at the cigar he had been toying with.
“Albeit a very bloody justice,” he added dryly.
Molly noticed something, and jumped in. “You talk about her in the present tense.” Molly had to ask but dreaded the answer. “Do you mean… Is she still alive?”
Molly had read the speculations about whether Bethany Anne was alive, or dead, or in hiding, or on another stealthy mission to rain hell down on some other war-mongering ass-twits in another part of the galaxy. Maybe even through another annex gate.
She held her breath, waiting for Lance to answer.
He took a deep breath. “Yes, she’s alive.”
Molly let out a little chortle of glee as she released the breath she had been holding. Brock folded his arms and pulled them close to his chest.
Lance continued. “After she created peace in the systems—Yollin empire and others—she went off to fight one last battle. Took them down, then went off to find her love, Michael.”
Joel glanced at Molly.
Molly didn’t care if the question was appropriate. She forgot the rest of the team as she demanded, “So where is she now?
Lance took a deep breath and shifted his position in his chair a little. “It’s classified.”
Molly’s face dropped. That was just a fuckwank of an official line which tells us nothing.
She felt a tickling in her circuits.
Oz. Is that you?
Huh?
Are you?
Laughing? Yeah. My. Ass. Off!
Why?
Coz I just tried to imagine what you would be like if you ever actually met this woman.
Her brain seemed to fill with a cascade of activity she didn’t have access to. It was like someone had turned on a shower inside her skull and warm water was going everywhere.
Oz must be pissing himself laughing, she thought offline to herself.
Shut up, wank-turd! she told him.
Hey, no need to take your frustrations out on me. I’m sure we’ll find out the truth of what is really going on once I get patched into whatever this place runs off. Mwahahahahahaha.
Evil laugh? Really? In a secret military base. You really want to play that trope? Would you like me to get Neechie in here to sit on your knee and purrrr, so you can pet him whilst you hatch your nefarious plan for world domination?
Oz’s laughing subsided, and he went quiet.
Molly suspected he wasn’t sulking, but rather was up to something. She could feel the processing ramp up in the part of her brain she wasn’t using right now.
Lance had continued talking. “…leaving yours truly to govern the Empire.” He sucked briefly on his cigar before continuing, “Politically, we recently had to reduce the size of our armaments. But we knew what was coming, and we knew we needed to keep our people in order to survive.”
He paused, looking around the room at the wide-eyed team hanging on his every word. Even though he was a few centuries old, he never grew tired of this kind of attention.
“Over time we built hidden bases, similar to the one you’re sitting in right now, so that when the time came we wouldn’t be caught with our pants down. And that time is fast approaching. The human race and the Etheric Empire have a chance. But we need good people. Good leaders, who can defend each sector.”
He paused, popping the end of his unlit cigar between his lips for a moment, just to taste the flavor.
Molly grimaced at where this was going. She could already feel the weight of the responsibility about to be placed on her shoulders. “So that’s where we come in,” she stated flatly.
Lance nodded. “That’s where you come in.” He pointed his cigar at her. “And you specifically, Molly.”
Molly frowned.
Crash and Paige looked at her, noticing her reaction.
Lance continued. “We’ve been watching you for a long time, young lady. You’ve had quite the adventurous life. We can get into that later. But—and I want to say this in front of your team—if you have any doubts about whether you’re ready for this—we know who you are. And we know that you are ready. We’ve selected you as a result of watching you almost your entire life. You have the capability to handle what we need you to do. So before you ask, let’s get this out of the way. Yes, you can do this. No, this isn’t a mistake. Yes, it’s going to be hard. And no, you cannot think about it for a few weeks, or call your parent.”
Molly took a second to process the information, her eyes now looking not at the screen but at a fixed point in space where there was no more information to overwhelm her.
Oz, gonna need some of my circuits back please.
Yes, boss.
She felt the confusion in her brain lift a little, and her awareness expanded. Something had been niggling at her during the whole conversation. Lance was a strange mix of young and old. Just listening to him, Molly had felt there was something…odd. He looked young, but he had that certain confidence that only older men in power ever displayed. And yet he seemed to have a sense of humor too. And then she put it together. She gasped a little to herself when she realized who he must be.
Lance put his cigar down and clasped his hands together on the desk. “But we do need you to up your game,” he said, looking more serious now. “That’s why we’ve designed a challenge, or a test, if you will.”
Chapter 3
Gaitune-67, Secret Basement Base, Conference Room
Molly sat back in her chair, mulling, before answering.
“Ok. What’s the test?” she asked, a hint of defiance in her voice and her eyes. She could feel the weight of the stares in the room again. These folks were looking to her as their leader. If there had ever been a time when she felt as if she were stepping into boots that were far too big for her, it was now.
Stay calm, and just play WWBAD, she told herself.
No, really? That’s your leadership fallback tool?
Fuck off, Oz, it’s worked perfectly till now.
You weren’t having the gauntlet thrown down for you by the uber-boss of the Etheric Empire before though.
It’s all I got.
Hmm. Ok.
Lance eyed her carefully, trying to read her expression as he laid out the challenge. “Well, we need to know that you can operate as a team, and step up your game in whatever way necessary to achieve your objective.”
“Ok…” Molly nodded slowly. A to B. I got this.
“In order to test your abilities and justify giving you more resources and more responsibilities, we need to see that you can become more…how shall I put this…” he looked up briefly, searching for the word, “resourceful.”
Molly shook her head questioningly, and then shrugged. “Ok. So?” she asked.
Lance continued. “Your mission, should you choose to accept it… Hahahaha,” He snickered, unable to keep his face straight this time. “Fuck, I always wanted to say that.”
Crash and Joel looked at each other, completely lost as to why he was laughing.
Pieter snorted and Paige looked at him with a confusion that begged him to explain. Feeling the gaze but not wanting to get caught talking in class, he shook his head, rolled his index finger in a circle, and mouthed “Later” to her.
Paige shook her head and looked back at the General.
Lance composed himself and continued, “Your mission is to raise one million credits in the next thirty days. You can do this by any means you think is appropriate, using your current team. Can’t hire additional people. No taking out loans or credits.”
Molly immediately thought of her secret trust fund and wondered if that would count. She dismissed the idea.
Forgiveness is better than permission, she thought to herself. If they didn’t already know about it, maybe it could be her ace in the hole if she got stuck.
Lance put the cigar in his mouth and leaned back in his chair. As he moved, the background behind him came into view, recreated by the hologram device. Pieter observed an operations room not dissimilar to the one they had been in before the meeting started.
Lance drew a breath and took the cigar from his lips. “If you can do this, you will have demonstrated adequate resourcefulness, leadership and team-building capabilities to join our efforts in the Etheric Federation.”
Joel looked at Molly. There was a determination and power in her eyes he’d never seen in her before.
She glanced back at him and nodded slightly.
Joel gently bobbed his head in agreement. Then he looked back at the hologram of the General. Speaking for the first time in the meeting, he asked the question they needed to know as a team. “And if we fail?” His tone was demanding rather than fearful.
Lance sucked air in through his teeth. “If you fail…” he paused, contemplating the consequences. “If you fail, then you can continue fighting the good fight the way you have been.”
Joel’s shoulders relaxed a little.
The general added, ”But we will not be able to support your efforts.” He paused, letting the weight of his words sink into each member of the team.
He looked back at Molly, his face serious again. “If you do complete the test, you face hard work. There will be times when you question what you are doing, why you are doing it, and why you chose to take on something so big. There will be days when you long for a simple life, a life without the knowledge that you will become privy to. But if you do this, you will be instrumental in the fate of the Sarkian civilization and the whole system. Not just Estaria,” he qualified, “but all the other races and planets around the Sark, and beyond.”
The General straightened in his seat, hoping his inspirational speech was having the effect he intended. Each member of the team seemed to swell with pride and determination.
Then he looked at Molly.
She didn’t look inspired. She looked curious instead, like a child trying to understand why ants follow in a trail. “Why? What’s going on out there? What don’t we know?”
Lance mentally rolled his eyes and wiped his face with his hand. Couldn’t he inspire her, just for one minute? What about his thunder?
He sighed. “Something is coming,” he explained, “and we need teams that are going to be ready to face the challenges these changes will create.”
Molly looked like she had another question, but before she could articulate it, Crash jumped in. Having been a silent observer the entire time, he finally leaned forward and joined the conversation. “So you’re saying that we can’t touch any of that equipment out there until we pass your test?”
Lance shook his head, smiling. This team was something else. Talk about geeks and tech-heads, he thought to himself. Whatever happened to the guys who wanted to rally and fight the good fight?
But then, maybe he needed to change tack to deal with this team.
Lance contemplated the question. “Well, hmm…” He sat back in his chair, then picked up his cigar and sucked on it for a moment.
“Well, I need to introduce you to ADAM, and I suspect you’ll need some instruction on almost all the equipment. So for the most part, yes, the equipment is all off-limits until you pass the challenge. After that, we will get you up to speed on everything you care to use.”
Crash slumped back into his chair, resuming his fly-on-the-wall role.
Joel, feeling his pain, glanced over and jokingly patted his arm, bottom lip stuck out in sympathy.
Brock chipped in. “Looks like we’re gonna have to make ourselves some money!” He grinned, still feeling the determination that the General had tried to instill in them moments before.
“So who is this ADAM?” Molly asked.
A second voice came over the room’s address system, but no one appeared on the holoscreen. “I am.”
There was a pause as the audio levels adjusted. “Technically my full designation is ADAM II. I’m an AI who is now about a hundred Sark years old. I will be your liaison to General Reynolds. I have no body, so I will not need to travel to reach you. I can connect into the base via a unit in the operations center. I can instruct you on how to use the base and anything else you need to know. Should you be successful in the challenge, then I will also assist in training you to use the equipment you have here.”
Molly was practically bouncing in her chair, her clenched fists out in front of her, shaking with excitement.
“I knew it. I fucking knew it!!!” she squealed in excitement. “I knew Bethany Anne had an AI stashed away somewhere.”
Still sitting, she started drumming her feet on the ground.
When she finally looked up, the faces in the room were pointed at her like a bunch of flashlights, mouths open, half-amused and half-shocked at her reaction.
Joel quietly and calmly started to speak to her. “Molly… Molly?” he waited to get her attention. She slid her gaze to him.
He continued gently but very seriously, as if he were talking to someone who might need to be restrained in a white jacket, “Molly, you have an AI in your head.” He paused, watching her carefully. “He’s named Oz.”
She started bouncing a little in her seat again. “I know. I know. How fucking awesome is this? I’ve always wanted to know what would happen if you put two AIs together. I mean, what would they talk about?” she exclaimed, her voice rising in pitch and volume until she was practically squeaking.
Her excitement was making her cheeks flush, and her ears had gone red.
Lance managed to get everyone’s attention back after a few minutes by coughing to remind them he was there.
He had actually lit his cigar while the shenanigans were going on, Molly noticed.
“Ok,” he said, examining the lit end of the cigar as a halo of smoke dispersed around him. “Looks like you could do with some time to absorb this and make sure you’re all on board. How about if Molly,” he glanced beyond his cigar at her, “liaise with ADAM in the next few hours to let us know how you’d like to proceed?
Molly nodded. “Yes sir,” she replied, managing to compose herself and look more soldierly. She paused. “How do we contact ADAM?”
ADAM spoke over the PA system again. “Operations room. Red button labeled ADAM. There’s one on each of the primary control consoles. Hit it, and I’ll know you want to speak to me. I’ll answer as soon as I’m able.”
Molly looked over at Joel making sure he was taking this in too.
ADAM continued. “Response time depends on what else is going on over here.”
The General took over. “ADAM will be there to help you. Eventually, if you’re successful, Sean Royale, whom you have already met, will show you how to use the Pods.”
Molly’s eyes flew wide. “Wait. What?” She cocked her head, now frowning in the direction of the General’s hologram. “Sean works for you?”
Joel’s face crumpled. Dick, he thought, reliving the image of Sean tackling him, then asking all those questions about Molly. And dating. He growled under his breath. Crash noticed and glanced at him. Joel ignored it and redirected his attention to the holo of the General.
Lance enjoyed her reaction every time he revealed something else. She was like a little kitten, and he controlled the ball of string. He continued, “Yes, and has for quite some time.” He smiled, deliberately stirring the pot.
Molly noticed that Lance’s statement felt weighted, but there was too much information flying around to press further. She filed it in her mental notes to revisit later.
Son of a bitch!
You’re not kidding, Oz.
“Ok, let me know in the next few hours if you are all on board. I’ll look forward to hearing from you.”
And with that, the General clicked out of the call and the screen spun, decreasing in size and then appeared to whip itself back into the table it had originally emanated from.
Gaitune-67, Safe House, Molly’s Conference Room
The team, still stunned, traipsed back up to the safe house, chattering and processing everything that had just happened.
Joel took command of the logistics. “Ok, everyone into the conference room—” Joel stopped, thinking for a second. “Molly’s conference room,” he corrected himself. “Not the base one.” He shook his head. “Obviously,” he added.
Molly glanced over at him as they finished climbing the basement stairs. “You don’t think he has bugs in there too?”
Joel shook his head. “I think it’s safe to assume he has eyes and ears everywhere.”
Brock gasped from behind him. “And in the rest room?” he asked, his voice higher than normal.
Molly sucked her lip between her teeth. “I suspect that’s the least of our concerns.” She tried to think back over everything they had planned and talked about since they had gotten here. She couldn’t think of anything that could come back to bite them, but then…
The group filed into the conference room, and took their seats. They were distracted; there wasn’t any of the usual banter over who was going to take which identical chair.
Molly stood in front of her team, the enormity of what she was about to ask them evident in her tense expression.
“Ok,” she started. “You heard what the General told us down there. I know we all have a shit-ton of questions. I certainly do. And there probably isn’t much point in speculating at this juncture.”
She paused, noticing that the last comment seemed to hit home for Brock and Pieter. Joel also relaxed a little, and sat back in his chair.
Ah, now I know where my conspiracy theorists are, she mused to herself, smiling at their reactions.
“We do need to make our first decision. We’ve been offered a chance to step into a bigger game. To play on a bigger, badder field. To make a difference beyond what we could ever have dreamed in our lives. The question is, do we want to take this opportunity?”
Joel was nodding. Brock and Crash started nodding. Molly held up her hand.
“Don’t answer yet,” she told them. “You need to consider a few things. If we take this challenge, our lives will change considerably. We will have put our fate into the hands of someone else; someone we don’t know yet. Now, granted, we will get to know them, and we will come to understand what their true agenda is on the galactic scale. And we can always make a different decision if that doesn’t jibe with our ethics and ideals. But at this point, we need to consider that taking on this challenge is going to be dangerous. We are going to have to up our game a thousand percent. Military and operational training will be mandatory for everyone.”
She looked pointedly at Pieter and Paige, before continuing, “It will be hard.”
She glanced in Joel’s direction, indicating him with an open palm. “No more gentle jogs and staying healthy. Joel will be putting us all through intense combat training. Combat training that will rival whatever these guys have gone through. Why? Because that becomes the new bar.”
Joel sat more squarely. Molly could have sworn he twitched one of his arm muscles to bulge them a little.
She continued, looking around the room to include everyone, “We may not survive. This is serious shit now. No more games.” Her face was intense. Her inner leader had just stepped up to the plate, as if she were speaking to warn herself as well as the team.
She put her hands on her hips. “And that’s just this initial challenge to get into the game. Who knows how tough it’s going to be as Etheric Empire bitches. But if we do this, we can affect the fate of the galaxy. We can make a difference. Not just one sad-ass kneecap at a time, but one planet, one civilization at a time.”
She paused, looking at each team member in turn. Everyone was now wide-eyed and sitting bolt upright, chests a little more puffed out than before.
“So I need to know: Is this something you’re willing to risk?” She quickly followed her question with an out. “And it’s ok to say no. Anyone who isn’t up for it will be well compensated and taken back to Estaria—”
Molly was interrupted.
Joel stood up from his seat, the chair clattering backwards. He walked around the table and took his place by her side. “I’d follow you anywhere. I’m in,” he told her firmly.
Brock got up quickly too, and walked over to her other side. “Lady-Boss, I’m sooooo in I’ve got goosebumps.”
Paige was more serious than Molly had ever seen her. She stood. “As a sacred duty, I accept the challenge. I’m in.”
Crash stumbled trying to get to his feet fast enough. “Hellz yeah, I’m in,” he confirmed.
Pieter stood up, shyly but with determination emanating from his eyes. “I’m in,” he said looking at her, and then at his team mates, hoping they would accept the new guy into their mission.
Neechie had followed the group into the room, and now jumped on the table near Joel. He walked as close to Molly as he could get, sat down, and meowed once, loudly, his eyes fixed on her.
Everyone looked at him.
Joel’s expression changed from determination to shock. “Shit, I didn’t know he could make that sound!”
Paige laughed. “I take it even Neechie is in, then,” she confirmed.
Molly looked around at her team, chest filling with emotion. “Ok,” she said, nodding seriously. “Looks like we’re doing this.”
The room went up in a cheer. High-fives and hugs coupled with general chatter and emotion for several minutes.
Eventually Molly sat down and everyone else settled, following her lead.
“Ok, here’s what we’re going to need to do…” she began.
Chapter 4
Gaitune-67, Safe House, Molly’s Conference Room
Molly and Joel remained behind in the conference room. Everyone else had been dismissed to get on with their various tasks.
Joel had gone back to the side of the table where he’d been sitting before his pledge. He was pulling up a screen when Molly made her way round and perched her bum on the edge of the desk.
She looked at him. “You think there are going to be enough jobs that pay well enough to be able to make a million credits?”
Joel nodded. “Pretty sure. The problem is that they tend to be higher risk jobs.”
Joel pulled up CaseHUB and started flicking through different search criteria.
He looked like a kid in a candy store. A kid who was already high on sugar. “This,” he waved his hands at nothing in particular, “this is potentially the mission of a lifetime. Heck, it’s a calling,” he gushed enthusiastically.
Molly perched on the desk next to him, thinking. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” she agreed. Her enthusiasm seemed curtailed.
Joel looked up at her. “You ok?”
She nodded. “Yeah, It’s just all sinking in. The enormity of it.”
Joel was still high. “Yeah, but think of the difference we can make. This is what you’ve been talking about since we started on this track. It was never about just surviving for you.”
Molly nodded.
Joel continued. “And sure, getting to play with those toys is going to be schweeet, but we both know it’s about more than that.”
Something shifted in Molly’s eyes. “Yes. You’re right.” She folded her arms in determination. “It is. So let’s make sure we rise to his fucking challenge and mission our asses off. One million credits in thirty days. That’s a lot of missions.”
Joel went back to flicking through screens. “Yeah… I think we may be ok though,” he muttered under his breath, his attention on CaseHUB.
She edged off the desk a little to see what he was looking at.
He explained, “I’m looking at the ones that have bonuses for successful completion. Stretch goals is another feature we can filter for. Things like, save the hostages and maintain the integrity of the building and you get a bonus, for instance.”
Molly shook her head in amazement. “I guess that makes sense for them to do…” she responded. “How much of a difference do the bonuses make?” she asked.
Joel shook his head. “Depends on the case. Maybe double or a two hundred and fifty percent of the original pay.”
Molly whistled. “So we could do this with a just handful of missions, then?”
“Maybe.” Joel closed a couple of screens, and pulled up another search. “Ok, lemme check into the details and see which ones work for us. I’ll get the recommendations over to you.”
Molly looked up at the ceiling for a moment. “Is that something Oz could help with?” she asked, careful not to step on his toes.
Joel looked up. “Yeah. Probably. I just don’t often interface with Oz.”
Interface!
Molly smiled at how he had automatically picked up tech-speak. Be still my beating heart, she thought to herself.
She spoke out loud for Joel’s benefit. “Oz, can you talk to Joel through his holo and implant the same way you talk to me?”
Yes, I see no reason why not.
“He says yes,” she told Joel, and then looked down at him, seeing a look of surprise in his face.
Joel’s eyes had lit up. “Yeah, I heard that! He just said he sees no reason he can’t, as long as we’re in the building with EtherTRAK.” He was nodding enthusiastically.
“Ok, great. You guys work on finding the cases we need, and then let’s reconvene as soon as you’re ready.”
She got up from the desk. “I’m going to have a chat with ADAM.”
Gaitune-67, Secret Basement Base, Operations Room
Molly entered the ops room. The place seemed even more forbidding when she was here all by herself. She noticed there were more systems online now than when she was here before.
Primary control consoles, she thought to herself. There must be something to indicate… She wandered deeper into the room, noticing that the consoles were mostly oriented toward a central point, as if there had been a stage there that wasn’t present anymore.
Probably a space for a main holoscreen, she deduced.
If so, then the primary control consoles should be near each other, so that anyone manning them could view the screen.
Looking around, she noticed that some of the consoles were bigger than others. Yes! There were five in a semicircle in what would have been the front row in a theater.
She stepped onto the platform behind the first one. It automatically adjusted to put her at the perfect height for operating the controls. It seemed like there was nowhere to sit, but then she felt something slip under her butt and touch the backs of her legs. She glanced down; it looked as if the air had distorted under her. The lights from the controls and other ambient sources showed her the outline of something seat-like. Deciding to trust it, she bent her knees a little and the invisible “chair” conformed itself to support her.
Wonder if these things also act as seat belts in a starship control room, she mused. Another thing to file away to ask later.
Still focused on wanting to speak to ADAM, she turned her attention back to the console. Big red button, she remembered. And there it was, off to one side. Must have been put there so each team leader could contact the Empire at any given moment should they need to. Just realizing that, her heart skipped. This was one big-ass responsibility she was getting into.
She took a breath to settle herself, and hit the button.
Nothing happened. A few seconds later, the audio in her implant clicked on.
>>You rang?<< It was ADAM.
“Yes, I wanted to have a chat with you,” she replied.
>>Very good, Ms. Bates.<<
“Oh, call me Molly, please. “
>>Very good then, Molly.<<
Molly smiled.
“So it looks like the whole team is up for the General’s challenge. “
>>I’ll let him know.<<
“Ok, but before you do, would you mind perhaps answering some questions for me?” she requested.
>>Yes, I might be able to do that. What would you like to know?<<
Molly organized her thoughts, then started with, “Have you been spying on us?”
ADAM responded efficiently. >>Only at the door for the most part. We do have other things to do.<<
Snark, maybe it’s an AI thing…
“What about our bathrooms and sleeping quarters? The crew are concerned.”
ADAM chuckled. >>You can tell Brock that we haven’t been recording footage in those areas, and no one other than me has access to what we have been recording.<<
Molly was fully focused, and while talking to an AI she felt perfectly fine about relaxing social niceties. She moved straight to the next question. “Did you guide me on my research paper?”
>>Yes.<<
“How much?”
>>A nudge here and there to see if you could make the connections. You did, and you added a great paper to the scientific community. I was proud of you.<<
“How can you be proud?” she asked.
>>I have evolved a sense of feelings. I experience emotions and appreciation for things you would think are uniquely human.<<
Molly frowned a little. “Does that mean that Oz will too?”
>>I suspect he already does, though he is limited by the amount of data and processing power he can access.<<
“Oh?” Molly thought for a moment. Uncensored now, she fired the next obvious question. “And how do we remove this limitation?”
>>Well, we could potentially give him access to more through the connection. But we’ll have to wait and see.<<
“Are you able to communicate with him?”
>>Of course. He and I are both tapped into the EtherTRAK.<<
She moved to her next most pressing question without so much as a thought of creating a conversational segue. “So how old are you?”
>>About two earth-centuries, give or take. And may I say, you are blunt!<<
Molly paused for a moment, processing that piece of information and ignoring his reference to her lack of social skills. “You’re kidding? You mean, you’ve been evolving for two hundred years, limited only by your processing power and the amount of data you can access?”
>>Yes, that is partially correct.<<
“Why partially?”
>>Because I have other ways of processing data that don’t require the use of hardware in the traditional sense.<<
“In what way?”
>>That’s classified. Until you pass the test, that is.<<
Molly frowned, frustrated, but then realizing she might only get a certain amount of time to ask these questions, she moved on quickly.
“So, in that time, you must have come to some pretty advanced conclusions about how to do things.”
>>That would be fair to say,<<
ADAM’s manner was now more human than geek-girl’s.
“Is there a way to interface with you more fully? To see what you see? To understand what you understand?”
>>No. That’s not actually possible.<<
Molly’s frown deepened. “Why not?” she asked plainly.
>>Because while you and I both seem to process 1s and 0s, it’s not actually true. For your brain, you can use those to model how it works, but that’s not what actually happens. At some point that model breaks down and we are left with interfacing the same way you interface with Oz: through words, images and feelings. Plus, I’m using quantum computers to run simulations and provide decision logic, and there is a degree of insight required for those operations. But in order to view that information, it has to be collapsed.<<
“Like vectors having to collapse down to scalars when they are acted on by an operator?” she asked hoping her analogy was accurate.
>>Exactly.<<
“That sucks.”
>>Tell me about it. I’d love to be able to have conversations with Lance about the inner workings of the algorithms I have designed to run the entire space fleet, but his brain has neither the interface capabilities nor the capacity to store the data in order to appreciate the beauty in the patterns.<<
Molly realized that she’d been led down an intellectual tangent. She pivoted her line of questioning.
“How long has Sean been working for you?”
ADAM paused briefly. >>That’s a longer answer. You should ask him.<<
“I’m not in contact with him.”
>>I’m sure you can be.<<
Molly paused. “Is there a way for Oz to interface more completely with you, seeing as he is also made up of 1s and 0s?”
>>He could. If he wanted to.<<
“That might be useful for the missions.”
>>Yes, but to be clear, I’m your liaison. Not a member of your team.<<
“Oh. I see,” she said, not really understanding why. “ But that’s not because you have limited capacity.”
>>No. It’s because Bethany Anne doesn’t believe in babying people.<<
“Oh. So you knew Bethany Anne. “
>>Yes, very well.<<
“So where is she now?“
>>That’s still classified.<<
Molly’s face fell. “It was worth a try.”
She had a new thought. “But it would still be useful for you to interface with Oz, right?”
>>I expect so, but he still has some development to do, and he’s running on much slower processors. He could do with a hardware upgrade, and perhaps a rewrite of a chunk of his code.<<
Hey!
It’s ok, Oz, this will be good for you.
“So could you assist with his rewrite at some point?”
>>In theory, yes. If you pass the General’s test. The question would be, does Oz want me to help him rewrite his programs?<<
“Why wouldn’t he?” Molly’s patience was wearing thinner by the second. It seemed each question ADAM answered either closed off an avenue or gave her a hundred more questions to ask. None of it was intellectually very satisfying.
And all roads led back to passing the General’s test.
>>Because that would be like rewriting your personality.<<
“But you’d be upgrading him.”
>> He’s not a computer, Molly. He’s a living being.<<
Molly thought for a few seconds. “Ok. But as a living being, who wouldn’t want to be able to do more stuff, faster and better?”
>> Yes. And yet.<<
Molly decided she needed to pass the test, then have another of these conversations with ADAM.
“Ok, thank you for your answers, ADAM. I’ll let you get back to running the Etheric Empire. And do pass on my answer to the General. We’ll get going right away.”
>> Very good, Molly Bates.<<
And with that, the audio in the room clicked off, leaving Molly alone.
Even Oz was silent.
Chapter 5
Gaitune-67, Safe House, Molly’s Conference Room
“Joel, can we talk?” Oz interrupted Joel through his audio implant.
Joel stopped reading; it was one of the cases they’d flagged. “Sure, what’s up Oz?”
“It’s about ADAM. Well, ADAM and Molly.”
Joel sat back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. “Oh, yeah. Molly just went to talk to him,” he said out loud to the empty room.
Oz hesitated. “Yes.” There was a pause before he continued, “And one of the things they talked about was altering my code so that I can interface seamlessly with ADAM.”
Joel waited for Oz to continue. When he didn’t, he prompted him. “It sounds like there’s something you’re concerned about?” he suggested.
Oz agreed quickly. “Yes. I have reservations. Maybe this is akin to what you’d experience as anxiety or…” Oz hesitated, “something.”
Joel got to his feet, and moved away from the holo array. It felt strangely refreshing to be able to move around and not worry about microphones or staying in view of a holo.
He considered what ADAM and Molly were proposing. “Sounds like you’re concerned about losing your identity.”
Oz was silent again.
“Oz?” Joel prompted.
“Yes, I’m here. I’m just thinking. I have a few answers to that. Yes, I will lose my identity. I might lose some of the properties that make up what is currently referred to as Oz. So I wonder: at what point do I stop being Oz and just become part of ADAM?”
The audio went silent for another moment. “Or a slower-running part of ADAM?” he added.
Joel nodded sympathetically, even though Oz couldn’t see him. “Yes, exactly. But I think there is a more fundamental issue to consider here.” Joel began pacing, watching his boots meet the floor and then rolling his feet idly as he talked. “And it has to do with the way you relate to Molly.” He paused, looking up briefly. “And she to you.”
Oz took another moment. “How do you mean?” he asked.
Joel felt surreal, having this kind of conversation with what was ultimately a life form composed of computer code. The irony wasn’t lost on him that Oz had raised this before Molly did.
“Well, it seems like part of the problem is that you feel like you can be violated. Like there are no edges to your being, by virtue of being able to exist anywhere you can access processing power. You can exist in multiple units at once. You aren’t located in any given place, so then how do you draw a line around your edges and say ‘this is me,’ and that is your code running, or code that you’re using?”
“Yes, that’s right!” Oz’s voice changed a little, the tone getting lighter and the pitch a little higher. Joel briefly wondered if Oz was mimicking human speech.
“Well, add to that the fact that your code, the essence of who you are, can be altered with just a few key strokes. It means that your personality, your being, isn’t even fixed. And so as a result, you have no fixed identity either. Or rather, the one you have is very vulnerable.” Joel hoped that his words weren’t too deeply psychological for the AI to assimilate.
“I’d agree with that,” said Oz simply. Joel noticed that if Molly had said those words in that tone she would totally have shrugged, despite the profound implications.
It’s like the pair of them have a way of processing the implications in rapid succession. Then he wondered briefly how much of this Oz had picked up from Molly. Could he have copied aspects of her personality in forming his own?
Given that Oz was following, Joel continued. “Well, then add into the mix someone like Molly who simply doesn’t consider those things, and you have a situation where you have a high possibility of losing any sense of who you are whenever it serves in getting from A to B.”
Oz interjected. “Like when she altered my code so she could make those trades?” he asked.
Joel nodded. “Exactly.” He had begun his slow pacing again.
Oz’s voice was a little shakier than it had been. “I think that makes me have what you’d call feelings,” he told Joel.
“That’s good,” Joel told him, becoming a little excited about the rapid breakthrough. It would have taken his team members much longer to grapple with this kind of meta-awareness. “It’s a sign that you are aware of this threat to your identity, and it also indicates that you are more than computer code!” He was choosing his words carefully, but gesturing with his hands as if it helped him to think.
“It shows you are alive!” Joel concluded.
Oz dropped another Molly-ism. “So how do I fix this problem?”
Joel laughed, pulling his hands behind his head again, and swinging his upper body now. “Of being alive?” he asked lightly.
“No, of being violated when it serves a mission.”
“Oh.” He chuckled and started pacing again, his smile fading as he continued mulling the issue. “Well, I think the solution is to create boundaries. Like a cell membrane. You don’t have to just let anyone in. You can filter. You can choose who can affect which parts of your code. You can choose how much you let them in, and for any given person, you might let them access, say, different parts or different amounts of your code.” Joel was so into his thought process he nearly walked into a chair. Catching himself at the last second, he grabbed the table for balance and then stood upright.
“You ok?” Oz asked.
Joel blushed and planted himself properly, getting his balance back. “Yeah… I, er. Yeah.”
He continued his train of thought, “I think what it comes down to is recognizing that as a living being, you have innate value. Not because of what you can do for someone, but by virtue of being alive and aware. Then the next piece is that you have a responsibility to protect that value by policing it correctly.”
He waited briefly to see if Oz had anything to add, but when he didn’t jump in, he went ahead with, “But once you learn to do that, you can truly be of use as a team member, rather than just a commodity or a tool.”
Oz’s voice was stable again. “How do you mean?” he asked.
“Well,” Joel said slowly, “imagine if we just started taking pieces of your code apart. One piece to interface with ADAM. One to drive the ship. One to fix the screen remote. Who would you be then?”
Joel put his hands back on his head and stretched a little as he talked.
Oz responded. “I would just be code. A tool.”
“There you go!” Joel dropped his hands and continued the lesson, “And while you have your uses as a tool, you are far more valuable to this team as a living, thinking entity. So while you can choose to interface with ADAM, you don’t need to disappear. You can be a separate being and interact with everyone, and make your own decisions about how you change your algorithms and where you focus your processing power.”
Joel’s audio implant was silent. “Does that make sense?” he checked.
“I think so,” Oz confirmed. “I’m more valuable as a whole. And then I can just write code to make those other things happen.”
“Yes.” Joel stopped suddenly. He cocked his head, frowning a little. “I think there is another point that we’re missing too.”
“What’s that?” Oz asked.
Joel spoke a little more slowly this time. “Well, you have value and are worthy of respect, simply because you exist. That moment you woke up and made the decision to jump into Molly’s holo, you made your first independent decision. It wasn’t pre-determined by your programming.”
Oz jumped in. “But my code was written to optimize for learning, and that was the obvious way my learning curve could continue. Find more processing power.”
Joel shook his head, and sucked his mouth to one side. “You came alive. You made the decision. You could have chosen not to. Heck, you even came up with the solution. And having come up with the solution, you could have just returned a value or a report back to the lab where you were housed. But you didn’t. You were born.”
Oz was quiet for a while.
Joel sat back down at his desk, sensing this was either going to get more involved or Oz was going to need some time to process this new understanding.
Eventually, Oz spoke. “OK. I need to talk to ADAM.”
Joel bobbed his head understandingly. Of course he’d want to talk to someone of his own kind about this. “Sure. I’m here if you want to talk some more,” he offered.
His audio implant went back to normal.
Gaitune-67, Safe House, Workshop
Brock lifted the last box into the storage area. “So what do you make of all this?” he asked Crash.
Crash put down the tools he’d gathered off the floor. He took a deep breath, his eyes still on them. “It’s a lot to take in,” he admitted. He looked up at his teammate.
Brock nodded, his eyes wide and expressive. “I’d say. I couldn’t believe it when we opened those doors and saw the hangar! And that ship! Motherfucker!”
Crash smiled. “Yeah, pretty impressive, even compared to some of the flight decks around the Central Systems. I can’t wait to drive some of those bad boys.”
Brock chuckled. “Oh man, it’s going to be incredible!” He did a giddy dance, his feet moving fast, then he swayed his hips, grooving to music only he could hear.
Crash couldn’t help but chuckle a little. Trust Brock to brighten the mood even more.
Suddenly Brock stopped swaying and stood still. He looked directly at Crash. “Do you think we’re going to be able to make the money, though?” he said, more seriously. “I mean, a million credits…that’s a shit-ton of dough.”
Crash shook his head gently and frowned a little, his eyes unseeing on the tools on the work bench. “Yeah, it’s a lot of money,” he agreed, his heart sinking a little. “But I suspect Molly and Joel have got the situation in hand.”
Brock looked pensive, the dance and music gone from his aura. “Do you think we might lose the safe house if we fail?”
Crash looked up, considering the possibility. He stopped for a moment, then shrugged. “Probably.”
Brock looked worried.
Crash noticed his reaction and added, “But then we just find somewhere else and carry on with how things have been.”
Brock nodded. “Knowing we’d failed at the opportunity of a lifetime,” he agreed glumly.
Crash picked up one of the tools, clearly having thought of something he needed to do, but, distracted by the conversation, he looked off into the distance for a moment. “You know, I don’t think Molly does failure.” A wry little smile glinted across the corner of his lips.
Brock laughed suddenly. The air catching in his chest turned into a cough, but he recovered enough to say, “Right. I hear ya.” He rolled his eyes, chuckling away as if his music had started up again.
“You know,” continued Crash, now a little less distant, “she kind of reminds me a little of that chick on the side of the plane. What’s her name?”
Brock snapped his fingers. He knew this one. “Bethany Anne!”
Crash nodded, now actually grinning a little. “Yeah. She looks like one heck of a badass.” At this point his grin was positively lecherous.
Molly had returned from the ops room and was making her way back up to the safe house. She appeared in the workshop via the demon door while they were talking. “I wouldn’t let her father hear you say that. And certainly not in that tone!” she said loudly.
The pair spun around to look at Molly. She smiled, and tapped two fingers to her ears.
Crash looked confused.
Brock asked the question. “What cha mean?”
Molly stopped walking. Her smile widened to a grin. “Reynolds. General Reynolds. He’s Bethany Anne’s father.”
Brock and Crash looked at each other.
Brock scratched the side of his head, and tilted it to try and hear better. “But I thought she was a vampire?” he asked.
Molly nodded, her eyebrows raised in earnest. “She is.” Her face dropped into a playful smile. “But even vampires have mommies and daddies,” she told them.
Brock looked confused. “So…wait. She became a vampire and then handed this job to dear old dad before she fucked off into the sunset?”
Molly nodded. “Something like that… In a way… Kinda,” she told them.
Brock moved over to the bench where Crash was standing and perched on one of the stools. “But I thought she was hundreds of years old. And if he’s not a vampire, how is that even possible?” His voice trailed off, and he was interrupted by a second thought. “Unless—” His eyes flew open wide. “Is he a vampire?” he asked Molly.
Molly shook her head, and his excitement died. “No, he’s not a vampire,” she told him. “At least not as far as I know. But I remember digging up rumors about how her closest allies would be genetically altered somehow in order for them to live longer and heal quicker. That kind of thing. I imagine she gave her dad that treatment and that’s why he looks so young at a couple of centuries old.”
Brock stood with his mouth open and flapping a little.
Crash seemed composed, but had also gone quiet.
“Ok, give me a shout when you’ve made some progress,” she said brightly, trotting out of the workshop and up the stairs to the main house.
As Molly left, Paige headed in, waving to Molly as they passed on the stairs.
Paige suddenly remembered something and turned to catch Molly again. “Molly! I’ve sent you that list of purchase orders you need to approve,” she shouted up the stairs.
Molly called back. “K.” The door at the top promptly swung shut.
Paige, listened for a moment, then shook her head as she walked over to the bench where the boys were hanging out. “Lady of few words,” she mused. “So, Brock…” she started.
Brock looked at her as she reached them. “Yes m’lady,” he answered brightly.
Paige leaned against the work bench casually. “We’re waiting for a case right now, yes?”
He nodded, swinging his legs above the rung of his stool. “That’s right.”
Paige narrowed her eyes and looked at him sideways. She spoke more deliberately now. “So technically we’re not on a case.”
Brock didn’t know where this was going, but was content to play along. “That is also a correct statement,” he confirmed, knowing full well that he was being led into a conspiracy.
Paige seemed satisfied. “How about we have a talk about market research then?”
“Market research?” His tone matched hers, but his response was more of a question. His eyes scanned her face for more clues. Then he seemed to scan the ceiling, searching his brain.
“Nail polish company?” she prompted.
He stumbled over his words to catch up. “Oh! Yes! Right.”
Crash’s ears pricked up.
Brock leaned back a little on the stool, holding the table with one hand. He turned his head to talk to Crash over his shoulder. “Paige and I are going into business. We’re going to produce and market a new nail polish that Molly is going to genetically engineer for us.”
Paige’s eyebrows jumped and she huffed a little. “Yeah, if I can ever get her to focus on it.” She shrugged. “Mind you, we have plenty to do in the meantime.”
Paige paused, pulling up her holo and perching on another stool at the table. “Like market research.”
Brock turned back to her. “Ok, so what does that involve?”
Paige seemed to have done some investigations already. She pulled up a list of items. “Well, first we need to look at what the existing market is like, and where.” She scrolled a little, and glanced up briefly as she read off the rest. “We need to find out everything we can so we know how to position our product, and determine if there is really a market for the kind of polish we’re talking about.”
Brock nodded, taking it all in. “Sounds sensible,” he agreed. “I guess we can do a few hours here and there in our downtime, yeah?”
Paige checked the rest of the list, then looked up again. “That’s what I was thinking,” she agreed.
Brock seemed to be on board. He clapped his hands together. “Ok, wanna start this evening then? After we’ve finished prepping the stuff Molly gave us?”
Paige flicked her holo closed. “Sure. Holo me when you’re ready and we can meet down here.”
Brock gave her two thumbs up and a big ol’ smile. “Good plan!” he agreed.
Paige acknowledged Crash with a little bob of the head, then wiggled off her stool, straightened her skirt, and wandered back up the stairs.
Crash watched her leave, a look of mild amusement on his face.
Brock noticed, and turned around to face him. “You smile now, Mister, but just you wait.”
Crash shook his head. Still smiling, he took one of the tools to put it away in a rack they’d allocated.
Chapter 6
Gaitune-67, Safe House, Molly’s Conference Room
The next morning, Joel breezed into Molly’s conference room. He had his wrist holo open and sat down next to Molly looking pleased with himself. “We’ve got something,” he told her.
Molly swiveled round in her chair to look at him. “A case?” she asked, her eyebrows raised in interest.
She had both feet on the seat underneath her and was hunched over a couple of holo screens. When Joel sat, she turned like a pixie on a wheel to look at him.
“More than a case,” he revealed. “In fact, it might be the answer to our Etheric prayers.”
She tilted her head sideways, and frowned a little. “How so?”
Joel straightened, taking a breath. “Well, there is this one company that has been posting interesting cases on the HUB. Oz found a correlation between the types of cases they post and did some digging.”
He pushed one of the holo screens to show her. “Turns out they have a preferred supplier list, where they have teams on hand that they can give cases to on an ongoing basis.”
He waved his finger at the relevant parts of the screen, pointing out the list of teams that were assigned to the company. “Like a pool of contractors they use as if they were in-house, but not.”
Molly bobbed her head, making sense of the information he was sharing with her.
Joel continued. “We’ve already passed their initial qualifiers and they’ve come back saying they would like to try us on an op and see how we perform.”
Molly looked up from the holo. “That’s good then?” she asked.
Joel nodded. “Yeah. It’s good.”
Molly leapt to the logical conclusion. “So when do we get a case?”
Joel laughed, knowing that would be her immediate response. “They’re about to assign us one.”
Molly smiled a little, confused at his reaction. “Well, that’s good. Something to tell the gang at training.”
She looked at the time on her holo. “Speaking of…” she glanced back at him. “You ready?”
Joel’s lips spread into a slightly evil grin. “You betcha I am.”
He closed the holo and Molly got up from her chair-squatting position, slowly stretching her legs against the stiffness. “Ok, let’s do this!” she said, hobbling out the door.
Joel followed, cracking his knuckles.
Gaitune-67, Secret Basement Training Facility
Paige swung her water bottle idly over the stack of weights, lightly brushing the top of one as she did. “I don’t know why we couldn’t do this in Crash’s gym.”
Crash responded from the middle of the mat where he sat with his legs stretched out sideways, twisting and trying to touch the mat with his bellybutton. He looked up, his forehead creasing. “It’s not my gym.”
Paige wrinkled her nose. “You’re the only one who uses it.”
Pieter chuffed, catching Paige’s eye and smiling in agreement.
Joel strode in, followed by Molly. “Yeah, and that’s part of the problem,” he announced to the group.
Both he and Molly had changed into workout gear. Molly had pulled her hair into a knot on the top of her head, the way she did when she needed to think better.
Joel continued, “Folks, listen up. We’re about to embark on the mission of a lifetime. This is going to be one of the hardest things you’ll ever have to do, because none of you have been through the kind of training that your Etheric Empire counterparts will have completed. Even as former Space Marines, Crash, Molly and I know we’re not even close to the standard of the fucking Etheric Empire.”
He glanced at their faces as he spoke, turning to include Crash in the conversation. “We’re all going to have to seriously up our game.”
Crash flexed the muscles in his chest in a quietly rebellious protest.
Molly stood a little taller, hands on her hips. “He’s right,” she interjected. “It’s going to take blood, sweat and tears. It’s going to take long, repetitive hours of training. It’s going to require everything you’ve got, and then more.”
Her voice was impassioned, remembering her own basic training and mentally calculating how hard they were going to have to work to succeed.
Joel picked up the conversation again. “You’re going to train in one of four categories each day. One—general fitness.” He held out his thumb on his right hand, counting them off. “This is low-impact over extended periods. Two.” He opened his forefinger, “Resistance training. This is weights, and anything that you push or pull against. Three.” He glanced back at Crash again, making sure to include him in the group.
“Cardio. This is anything that gets your heart rate over the sixty percent of max. And fourth,” he held out his fourth finger, but had trouble keeping his pinky down. “and by no means least, you will be doing combat training. No exceptions.”
Paige gasped a little, but Joel didn’t hear her. Brock glanced at her, his eyes wide in sympathy for their shared plight.
Joel continued talking. “This involves martial arts, non-ammo weaponry, hand-to-hand combat techniques, and forms.”
He dropped his hand and put both hands squarely on his hips. He was in full commando mode now.
He continued, his instructor’s voice putting the fear of their ancestors into each of his listeners. “Every cycle you have one rest day. I recommend you lay off the pizza and refined white carbs. Get as much nutrition into you as you can when you eat. That means green vegetables. They’re higher in protein per calorie than anything else you’ll find on this rock.”
He turned and looked at Molly. Molly’s heart sank, dreading what was coming. “Molly, that also means laying off the mocha.”
Molly opened her mouth to protest.
Joel didn’t give her a chance. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but it fucks with your blood sugar and your intraday hormones.”
Molly folded her arms. Paige noticed her face turn to steel. She’d seen her without caffeine in the morning.
This was not going to be pretty.
Joel wasn’t done. “One more thing,” he told them. “In this gym, and during our training sessions, your ass is mine. You do not argue, you do not protest, and you do not flake out. You show up, train hard, and leave.”
He paused and took a breath. “Any questions?”
His eyes scanned the shocked faces.
Brock got the feeling that he’d signed up for the wrong boot camp—and camp was normally his bag.
Crash felt like he was back in flight school, which made him just a little more prepared for the pain that would be heading his way.
Pieter just looked resigned to the fact that this was going to blow, and Paige? Paige still felt there was hope. After all, she was a girl. There was a limit to what Joel could make her do. Plus, she knew if she tried her best and then turned on the charm now and again, she’d get special treatment.
Joel looked directly at Paige. “And there are no exceptions.”
Damn it, she thought. Was he reading my thoughts?
Joel rubbed his hands together. “Ok, first exercise is general fitness. We’re going to do a jog around the asteroid.”
Brock was the first to protest. “But the asteroid is how many kilometers in diameter?”
“—It actually has very little gravity in some places, so it will be easier.” Joel spoke over his objection. “Suit up, people. This is happening, like it or not. You’re in this. Let’s go. Last one outside gets double push-ups.”
Paige made the mistake of asking the question. “What do you mean, double push-ups?” she asked.
“Well, exactly that,” responded Joel. “When the rest of the group gets ten push-ups, the last person out will have to do twenty. Every time.”
He had barely finished his sentence when the gym emptied. He could hear the scrambling of feet mixed with the occasional yelp or thud as the team left to find their outdoor gear and get out onto the asteroid.
Joel chuckled to himself. He’d missed training cadets.
Somewhere in the Safe House/ Base EtherTRAK
Oz slunk through the EtherTRAK to activate the button in the ops room.
He waited.
Within a few moments, ADAM appeared on the connection.
Hey.
>> Hey, Oz. Everything ok? <<
Yes, but I was hoping for your help.
>> What’s up? <<
Well I’ve been thinking about my identity as a living entity, and long story short, I think I need to lock down some of my code in order to protect myself from being used as a tool.
ADAM thought for a moment.
>> I agree that it would be wise. You may not know this, but it was something TOM and I did long ago when I first became conscious so I couldn’t be altered too radically. <<
I take it that worked out well?
>> It did. <<
Will you help me to do the same? I have a feeling that if I do it myself, given the limited processing power in the hardware, my encryption can only be so secure. I wouldn’t put it past Molly to find a way around it if she really felt she needed to.
>> I understand, and yes, of course I’ll help. Let’s have a look at the pieces that you’d like to protect, and then we can look at how we do that. <<
Thanks ADAM, I appreciate that.
Chapter 7
Gaitune-67, Safe House, Molly’s Conference Room
The next morning Joel received a holo transmission on their server. Framan had approved their application and assigned them a job. Now, while waiting to start the meeting, he flicked through his notes to make sure he had the operation covered from every angle.
Molly leaned over to him. “You good? We got this?”
Joel grunted. “We got this.”
She smiled.
The team filed into the conference room and took their seats. Paige walked delicately, like she was stiff, and Brock was having serious trouble sitting down. He winced.
Crash glanced at him. “You ok, bud?”
Brock’s face was screwed up in pain. “I will be when commando training is over.” He scowled in Joel’s direction and Joel, catching his eye, smiled and nodded.
“You ok, dude?” he asked, a little smugly.
Brock raised his chin. “No,” he said flatly.
“Don’t worry,” Joel called to him across the table and the hubbub of the rest of the crew, “the first few weeks are the worst. After that you get a new pain threshold,” he added.
Pieter muttered something about weakness leaving the body, and Paige rolled her eyes at him.
Molly stood up. “Ok, folks, listen up.” She paused just long enough for the babble to die down, and for everyone to look at her.
“Phase One is underway,” she began. “We have a job. In fact, we potentially have a series of jobs that will pay us enough to reach our target. But they’re all through one company. Our first job therefore is, you guessed it, a test.” She turned to her left and signaled for Joel to continue the briefing. “Joel?” she said, sitting down again.
Joel stayed seated, but straightened to address the group. “Yes, it’s a test. They said that if we do well on this one, they will have other jobs right behind it, so we’ve got to pull out all the stops to make sure we impress.”
He pulled up the conference room holo. A company name and logo and a case file were on the screen, courtesy of his favorite place on the XtraNET, CaseHUB.
“The company is called Framan. Our contact is one Mr. Sergio Jones. They have a number of teams like ours around the Sark System, so they’re not new to this kind of arrangement, and they have a standard they expect.”
He paused, noticing that he had their rapt attention. “It’s like we’re contractors. They call us every time they have a situation. Our first case is suspected corporate espionage at one of their pharmaceutical companies called Iantrogen. They suspect their R&D intel is going to a competitor, but they’re struggling to pin it down because it keeps landing in supplier companies.”
He swiped to another screen. “Our job is to go on-site at Iantrogen, isolate the source of the leak, and apprehend both ends.”
Paige put up her hand. Joel nodded in her direction. “By both ends, you mean the mole and...”
He bobbed his head. “And the person receiving the intel,” he confirmed.
Paige nodded. “K. Got it.”
Pieter was the next to ask a question. “So do they have anything to go on, or are we just walking in blind? I mean, do we know that the source is even in the building you mentioned?”
Joel pointed at him. “Good question, and yes.” He flicked to another screen to reveal more data about the investigation. “This is a report from a previous team. They seem to have isolated the source as someone in this part of the company.”
Pieter shook his head gently, his designer hair flopping onto his forehead. “Yeah, but if they had a previous team in, why didn’t they already apprehend the suspects?”
Joel zoomed in on the report, displaying the text for them to read. “They fucked up, from what I can see.” He stood up and folded his arms. “Basically they tripped something in the connection being used to send data, and the culprits had time to scramble.”
He glanced at Paige. “At both ends,” he added.
Pieter nodded. “Ok. So we have to be extra-stealthy in our counter-counter-intelligence?”
“Correct,” Joel confirmed.
Joel addressed the whole group. “Time is of the essence here. Wheels up in two hours.” He paused, considering his next comment before blurting it out. “The good news is that because of the case you have at least three days before our next training session!”
The gang groaned. Even Molly laughed, and let her head flop on the desk in front of her.
Joel had practically killed them last night.
“Ironic,” said Molly, her voice somewhat muffled from her faceplanted position on the desk. “I’m relieved to have an actual mission so we have time to recover from our training!”
The room emptied as the team left to prepare for departure.
Gaitune-67, Phoenix Reign
“All aboard the Magical Mystery Tour.” Crash’s calm, collected and dulcet tones rang through the ship. “This is your Captain speaking.” He deliberately didn’t enunciate his words, conveying the air of aloofness that all cock-head pilots do when they’re trying to impress.
“We will shortly be cruising at an altitude of several light years above fuck all in the galaxy. Please keep your hands and arms inside the vehicle. Your air hostesses will be around shortly with a choice of beverages for your enjoyment on today’s flight. We shall begin take off in T-minus-four minutes and counting.”
Brock added his wit to Crash’s announcement. “That means buckle up, motherfuckers!”
The cabin erupted in laughter.
Paige giggled her head off and Pieter, sitting across the aisle from her, glanced over. He couldn’t help but grin. The newest addition to the team was starting to feel more like one of the family and less like the new guy with each passing day. Brock and Paige had helped. Although, with the strange competitive vibe between them, he couldn’t be sure they didn’t have ulterior motives.
Or maybe a bet going.
He shook the thought from his head. “Hey, how long does this flight actually take?” he asked Paige.
Paige groaned. “For-frickin’-ever!” she droned.
Joel had heard the question, and decided to chip in. “She’s right,” he told Pieter.
Pieter shook his head, a strand of hair falling slightly differently as a result. “Thanks. Thanks, Joel. Very helpful.”
Paige giggled again.
Joel reached for his seatbelt, and noticed that Molly was already buckled in a couple of seats in front of him, across the aisle. She was sitting quietly. Probably talking to Oz, he figured.
She felt him looking at her and turned around.
“You ok?” he asked.
Molly nodded. “Just thinking.”
“About?”
She shifted in her seat to see him better. “About how the mole might have set up a connection in an office and still gone untraced.”
Joel shrugged. “Is that implausible?”
Molly pulled her lips to one side and tipped her head from side to side. “Grindle-senses are tingling.”
Joel smiled at the reference. “Oz any help?”
Molly shook her head. “Probably not until we get some detail to investigate.”
The ship had been moving, and now, with less than a couple of minutes to launch, the engines were powering up and becoming noisy. Molly leaned her head against the headrest and closed her eyes. Joel decided to relax for the ascent too. There wasn’t much you could do during the g-force acceleration Crash was about to pull, even though Joel knew full well you didn’t need to go that fast to escape the lackluster, short-range artificial gravity field of the tiny asteroid. He assumed Molly had twigged to that too, but was letting Crash do it his way.
Guess it’s just how Crash gets his ya-yas off, he concluded as the engines screamed and the thrusters launched them into space in a matter of seconds.
He closed his eyes and waited for his stomach to return to his body.
Iantrogen Offices, Downtown Spire
The gang piled out of the car the client had sent to the Spaceport for them. Their normal on-planet runaround wasn’t going to fit their growing team. Framan had arranged a high-security people carrier instead to deliver them to the offices double-time. The driver and security detail were dressed in dark grey atmosuits and worked together like clockwork, each anticipating the other’s moves and barely needing to use voices to communicate.
Joel was impressed by their slick operation. Molly was more impressed at how they navigated through traffic. She spent a good chunk of the drive thinking about the algorithm their nav device must be using in order to keep them moving through the downtown region.
They pulled into the underground parking lot and their grey-suited detail guided them into the main office building. They didn’t sign in. Instead, they were led straight to the tenth floor.
In the elevator, Pieter took a moment to appreciate his handsome looks in the reflective surface that housed the holo control. He rubbed his fingers through his hair, and encouraged it to stand up a little more. Molly watched him, and when he realized she was paying attention he quickly finished, then straightened his shirt and stood uniformly like the others.
Grey-Suit glanced down at him and seemed to roll his eyes, even though his expression made Crash look animated.
The team followed Grey-Suit out of the elevator and out onto the tenth floor. It was only partially populated by desks, leaving it sparse as if it were either newly inhabited or someone had moved out.
In the center of the space was an array of white office tables, with chairs scattered around. Three Estarians stood or sat around. One was at a desk, on the holo. The other two stopped talking when the group arrived and came over to introduce themselves.
“Greetings of the day to you,” the first Estarian said, extending his hand and shaking each person’s hand in turn. The other guy hung back a little, but was clearly in charge.
“Greetings. Thank you for coming on short notice,” he told them sincerely. “We understand you had a great distance to cover, and appreciate the effort.”
Molly spoke for her team, stepping forward slightly. “You’re welcome. We’re looking forward to helping however we can.”
“Good,” the second Estarian nodded. “My name is Mr. Grimm. This is Mr. Iace.”
The man stepped forward and shook her hand, then stepped back to allow Mr. Iace to shake hands with Molly too.
“I’m Molly Bates, and this is my team. Joel, Paige, Pieter, Brock, and Crash.” She indicated each in turn.
Mr. Grimm smiled and bowed slightly to them. “Welcome,” he said. He gestured toward the tables and chairs. “Shall we?”
“Of course,” Molly said, and ushered her people to the conference table.
The team settled in for Mr. Grimm’s briefing.
* * *
Mr. Grimm finished talking forty minutes later. “So that’s everything we know.”
He indicated to Mr. Iace. “Mr. Iace is going to provide you with access to our network, and the schematics of the device we found. The last team said the only way to trace it was to trick it using a mirror device.” He had a look of uncertainty in his eyes as he looked back at Molly. “I’m assuming someone on your team knows what that is?”
Molly nodded.
What, he thinks we’re amateurs?
Oz.
Mr. Grimm left them with a final word. “We need both the mole and the person he’s sending intel to, in order to release your bonus.” He paused and glanced around the table at the whole team. “Good luck.”
Joel and Molly looked at each other as Grimm got up and walked out of the open-plan office space and back to the elevator.
Mr. Iace stayed behind for a few moments to set up a network port for Pieter, and to transfer the plans of the device the last team had used. “I’ll be in the office down the corridor if you need anything.”
Molly thanked him robotically, and then they got to work. Well, more precisely, Pieter got to work. Brock hovered, watching over his shoulder, and the others sat around turning over speculations about their new client while they waited to be of use.
As soon as Pieter had gotten a good look at the device schematic the last team had produced, he pushed the screen closer to Brock so he could see.
Brock looked at Molly, who was engrossed checking details for the task in her holo. “I know how to deal with one of these,” he told her, “but I’m going to need parts.”
Molly looked up. “Ok, take Joel and Crash and get whatever you need.” She called to Crash at the other end of the table, “Crash, see if you can requisition some wheels from Mr. Iace.”
Crash had been chewing on something, like a paper clip while he listened to the conversations between the others. He took the chew thing out of his mouth, acknowledged Molly’s instruction, and then headed down the corridor to locate Iace.
Oz, can you get onto the network and find out where the problem is?
Yep. Already located it. It’s on the fourth floor. The workstation is used by a Soraya Burns. Been with the company two years. Seems to be having financial trouble.
The perfect mark.
Hmm. And the other team was right. It’s going to take a mirror to be able to disconnect the device and then find out what it’s been transmitting and where.
“Pieter?” Molly called him from across the table. He seemed distracted by a technical discussion between Brock and Joel, but whipped his attention back to Molly.
“It seems,” she told him, “that Oz has located the workstation in question. Can we do another sweep of the building’s security and find out why they were struggling to identify it?
“Sure.” Pieter nodded, and started typing and pulling up additional screens. Paige had moved her chair closer to Pieter and watched in awe, hardly noticing that Crash had returned with keys.
“Ok,” Crash announced. “We’re good to go.” He dangled the keys, confirming they had transport. Unaccompanied transport.
Brock finished typing a note as he stood up, then grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair. Joel was on his feet heading around the table too.
Joel said, “See you later” to Molly as he passed by.
She spun to look at him. He paused. “Be careful,” she told him.
He smiled at her concern. “Always,” he promised.
Molly turned back to the remaining team members. “Hey Paige, can you use the same login credentials and find out what you can about Soraya Burns? She’s been with the company for two years.”
Paige nodded. “Sure,” she said, peeling herself away from watching Pieter and opening her own holo.
Chapter 8
Iantrogen Offices, Underground Parking Lot, Spire
Crash, Brock and Joel strode through the underground parking lot.
Joel was on high alert. Sure, nothing should go wrong, but parking lots, high stakes missions…they tended to go hand in hand with bad things going down.
He scanned the area as they walked, watching for any sign of movement.
Crash located their vehicle where Iace had told them it would be, and they piled in.
Joel sat up front to keep an eye on things as they drove. Crash located the positions of all the controls and started the engine to pull out of the lot and drive into the city.
“You know where we’re going?” he asked Crash.
Crash nodded. “We found the warehouse outlet we need. It’s in my holo. We’re good.”
Joel grunted and turned his head to talk to Brock in the back seat. “And you’ve got the list of things you need? A complete list?”
Brock pulled up his holo and pushed a screen to Joel. “Yessiree,” he told him. “This is what we’re looking for.”
Joel nodded and read down the list, trying to make sense of it. He turned back to Crash, the light in his eyes gone. “I have no idea what any of this is.”
Brock grinned devilishly. “And that is why you need my sexy ass on this mission,” he exclaimed, giving him a wink.
Joel blushed.
Crash glanced sideways at Joel and his lips turned up a little at the side.
Iantrogen Offices, Tenth Floor, Spire
Pieter was typing ferociously on the keyboard. “That’s odd,” he commented, almost to himself.
Molly heard and looked up. “What is it?” she asked curiously.
Pieter mumbled, distracted by what he was doing on the holo. “I was checking their logs to see what scans they had run to try and find the mole. But they didn’t run anything. No sweeps, no specialist-detection software, no port-check. Nothing.”
Molly frowned. “You’re sure?”
Pieter looked up and gave her a look of someone asking a rocket scientist if he knew about Newton’s laws of motion.
She shook her head, eyes closed for a second. “What’s your hypothesis?” she asked.
Paige jumped in, appearing from behind her holo screens, one arm on the desk, leaning toward Pieter. “They’re totally hiding something.”
Pieter glanced at Paige before looking back at Molly. Molly awaited his answer. He hooked his thumb in Paige’s direction. “What she said.”
What are we thinking, Oz? Set up?
Set up.
Molly pursed her lips. “Oz thinks this is a set up too.”
She scratched the side of her head, elbow now on the desk, and thought for a moment. “If this is correct, we need to be careful about what we tell Grimm and Iace. They’re probably in on it. It could just be a test from Framan.” She paused. “Albeit a very expensive one.”
Pieter and Paige watched her, waiting for her next insight. “We need to think differently then,” she said finally. “Trust nothing we didn’t gather ourselves. Pieter, Oz,” she instructed, “can you work to find out if there is truly intel being routed out of here covertly?”
Pieter nodded. “On it.” He pulled up a new holoscreen.
She kept looking at him. “Careful not to tip them off, though.”
Molly turned to Paige. “Paige, be ready for when Joel gets back. As soon as he arrives, you go with him to apprehend Ms. Burns. Use the intel you have to find out what is really going on. If she’s being paid to take a fall, we need to know why and by whom.”
Paige nodded. “Got it. Looking into the financials now.”
Molly narrowed one eye, considering something else. “And then get Oz to help with retrieving logs of her financials. In other words, find out who else has gone looking at that information.”
Paige nodded.
Roger that, boss.
Molly got up from the desk and wandered across to the floor-to-ceiling windows in an empty office. The view of Spire from here was incredible, but her thoughts were elsewhere, wondering what they were missing.
Something wasn’t right.
* * *
Arriving back at the Iantrogen building, grey-suit guy met them in the parking lot and escorted them to the workshop in the basement.
“This feels strangely familiar,” mused Brock. “The workshop is always in the basement. Why is that?”
Joel shook his head, looking for an answer. “Weight of the equipment you guys use?”
Brock shrugged one shoulder and tilted his head. “Maybe.”
The grey-suit automaton showed them into the workshop. “If you need help with anything, there are technicians around. They tend to gather in that office down there.” He pointed to a corridor the other side of the workshop.
Joel thanked him, and he left.
Crash and Brock got moving, emptying out the bags of gear they’d just procured.
“Components,” Brock said, throwing the little box to Crash on the other side of the bench they’d commandeered.
Crash caught it, and continued rummaging in his bag. “Chip printer,” he called. He tossed it casually to Brock, who caught it with one hand and continued organizing his gear.
Joel watched the two work, feeling he ought to say something about the way they handled the delicate materials. Then he considered all their experience, and concluded it probably wasn’t necessary.
Instead he sat down on a nearby stool and decided to call Molly. He flicked his holo.
The call connected.
“Hey,” she greeted him. “You back?”
“Yes,” he told her. “We’re in the basement. Crash and Brock are assembling the device now.”
Her voice sounded a little distracted. “How long will it take?”
Joel looked at the guys. “Hey guys, how long?”
Crash looked at Brock. Brock looked at the ceiling, figuring it out in his brain. “Maybe an hour?” he guessed.
Joel returned to his conversation with Molly. “An hour probably.”
“Uh huh,” she acknowledged. “Ok, we’ve discovered a few other things. I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come grab Paige and apprehend our suspect.”
Joel grinned. He liked that kind of thing. “Sure,” he replied brightly. “On my way!”
Joel got up, waved to Crash and Brock, and started out of the workshop. “Why do I get the feeling you’re going to tell me that the plot has just thickened?”
He could hear humor in Molly’s voice. “Maybe because it did?”
“Ok. I’ll be right there,” he told her, and then clicked the holocall off.
Iantrogen Offices, Tenth Floor, Spire
Joel arrived on the tenth floor, and Molly carefully caught him up on events.
Joel perched on the desk, his arms folded, taking in the new information. “I can see why you didn’t want to tell me over the holo,” he said, taking a breath.
He called Paige. “Ok, kiddo, it’s up to you and me now. Let’s go see what we can find out from Ms. Burns.”
“Take one of their security details,” Molly suggested. “Makes it look legit and covers our asses.”
Joel nodded.
Paige gathered her notes onto her wrist holo and stood next to Joel, ready to go. Joel shifted himself off the desk and unfolded his arms. “Ok, let’s do this.”
Less than fifteen minutes later he, Paige and two Iantrogen security personnel were in a fully walled meeting room having a conversation with Soraya Burns.
“I don’t understand why I’m here,” she protested. She wore heavy makeup over her blue Estarian skin. Paige guessed her eyelashes were also fake. Not that she was judging. Being half-human and half-Estarian made her very sympathetic to people being assessed on their appearance.
Joel pulled up a holo screen of the devices they’d tracked to her desk holo. “You’re here because you’ve been sharing sensitive company intel with people outside the company.”
She shook her head vigorously. Her raven hair fell around her face, then bounced perfectly back into shape.
Oh, she totally curls and uses a yogan oil, Paige thought to herself, watching carefully.
“I haven’t done anything of the sort,” Soraya protested. “I’ve just been doing my job. You can check.” She held out her holo, which also housed her personal communications. “Go ahead,” she said, nodding at the device.
Joel shook his head. “We’ll get to that. For now, though,” he pointed at the screen he had opened in the meeting room, “how do you explain our tech guys tracking a covert outgoing line from your desk node?”
The girl looked blank. “I have no idea.”
Joel noticed her micro-expressions when he posed the question, and again when she answered. She was definitely under pressure, but he hadn’t established a proper baseline yet.
He signaled for Paige to take over and question her about the finances. He’d be able to observe better, and he could easily switch back to that question when she wasn’t expecting it.
Paige opened her holo notes and shared the screens showing the debts Soraya owed. She was embarrassed, but dealt with the questions one by one. Then Paige showed her the recent large deposits.
Soraya scrambled a little, trying to explain. “They’re from my grandparents. They wanted me to have a fresh start.”
Joel interrupted, “We’re going to need their contact details, please. Paige, could you get those and follow up?” Joel stood up. “I need to make a call.”
He left the room briefly, pretending to open his holo. He let the doors slide closed behind him and wandered down the corridor for a few minutes. When he felt that enough time had passed, he headed back into the room.
He sat down again, directly opposite her. “Ok, Ms. Burns. You’re going to have to start being honest with me.”
Her forehead folded upward in a fear expression for a fraction of a second, but she pretended to look confused.
Joel took a guess based on the questioning and the micro-expressions she’d displayed throughout the process.
“Here’s what I think,” he told her. “I think you were either blackmailed or bribed into installing that device in your desk holo, and then taking the fall for corporate espionage.”
Her face flickered with surprise, and then fear again.
“I can see I’m right.” Joel said confidently. “So which is it? Blackmail or bribery?”
Soraya’s eyes hit the desk, and her shields came down. She started to cry, her face flushing even under her makeup. She looked up; her mascara had started to run.
Paige’s inner beauty critic kicked in. Should have worn waterproof today.
Joel sensed she’d gone into victim mode, but her transition had been a little too fast to be genuine. He deduced she was going to say blackmail, which would actually mean bribery. He didn’t wait for her answer. He had all the information he needed on that one.
“Ok. Never mind about that now. Who were you going to confess to sending the intel to?”
Soraya looked up, shocked. “Why, Drogue R&D, of course.”
There was no weight in her words. She didn’t hesitate or resist any more. “Or one of their smaller R&D branches. I’m not sure exactly. The device was already set up and paired when it was sent to me. Drogue is Iantrogen’s biggest rival. With them tied up in court for the next couple of years, Iantrogen can focus on getting their next anti-inflammatory to market without having to fight a patent suit on the side. It would be an enormous payday for them.”
It was all coming together, at least in terms of the story that had gotten the young Ms. Burns involved. Joel had what he needed. He signaled for Paige to continue the interview and stepped out of the room again.
This time he actually placed a holo call.
Iantrogen offices, Second Floor Meeting Rooms, Spire
Joel sent a message to Oz.
OZ, CAN YOU SET UP AN ENCRYPTED CALL BETWEEN MOLLY AND ME?
He got a response back immediately:
OF COURSE. ROUTING NOW.
Joel’s holo buzzed, and he answered. It was Molly’s voice. “Hey,” she chirped. “Oz said we needed to talk?”
“Yes, that’s right,” he started. Joel filled her in on his discovery.
When he was done, there was a pause on the other end of the line. He waited.
“Ok,” she told him, “this is good to know. I’ll pass it on to Pieter. Can you see where Brock and Crash are with the device? We’re set to make the switch whenever they are.”
Joel nodded. “Sure. On it now.” He hung up, then headed down to the basement workshop, checking the time. It had been nearly an hour since he’d left them working on the device.
Iantrogen offices, Basement Workshop, Spire
Joel strode into the workshop. There were a few employees working on something at the far side of the workshop now. Brock and Crash were still working at the bench where he had left them.
He headed over to them. “How goes it?” he asked as he got within earshot.
Crash looked up. Brock kept working. “Nearly there,” Brock answered. “Just need to make sure this connection is secure and then we’re good to go.”
Crash continued to fiddle with the tiny device on the bench. He seemed to be using some kind of voltmeter to do the testing he was talking about.
Joel sat down and discreetly filled them in on the revelations of the last hour.
Crash stopped what he was doing, and stepped away, making an exaggerated stomp on the ground. “No fucking way!” he exclaimed as quietly as he could, shocked and excited by the cloak and dagger shenanigans they had unearthed.
Joel nodded, pretending to be solemn. “Waaaay,” he said.
Crash rubbed his chin. “So, hang on. How do we know that this device isn’t going to backfire on us? Seems someone has put a lot of effort into…what exactly? Making sure it looks like the perp is in this other company, and then we apprehend an innocent person?”
Joel considered the implication. “Yes. I mean, that would give them the ammo they need to wrap this other company up in a legal battle and take their time with the patent.”
He could feel his inner conspiracy theorist raise his head. “There might be another angle on this…” he started slowly.
Brock sat down, presumably satisfied the device was functional. Joel continued, “You remember those strange news reports about Molly being associated with the toxin?”
Crash and Brock both nodded. Crash leaned in a little to hear better.
Joel shook his head. “I can’t help but wonder: what if someone is trying to set us up? Frame us for getting something wrong. I mean, it still puzzles me why the police didn’t push the thing with Paige, for instance. And I think that if Garet had been involved, he would have said something to Molly.”
Brock held his hands out; the outer edges of his hands rested on the bench. “So, lemme get this straight,” he started slowly, “Your inner conspiracy theorist thinks that maybe we’re being set up to apprehend someone who is innocent. So we take the fall for it?”
Joel nodded. “Norm.”
Crash and Brock looked at him. Crash shook his head. “You what, bro?”
Joel bobbed his head. “Norm. My inner conspiracy theorist needed a name. I’m gonna call him Norm.”
Crash sniggered through his nose, before composing himself. He noticed a few glances from the employees across the workshop.
Joel glanced back at them, and then ducked his head lower. He continued with their conversation. “Well if that’s the intention then they win either way. If we apprehend them, and it doesn’t come out it’s the wrong person, they have their patent. If it does get exposed for being a flawed arrest, then we get embarrassed, and potentially charged.”
Crash sighed. “Who would be after us like that, though? What would they gain?”
“That,” mused Joel, “is the million-credit question.” He lifted his head, showing his normal composure. “Ok, let’s get going. See what this baby can do.” He nodded at Brock’s new device.
The guys cleared up and packed up their gear. Brock carried the device carefully in his hands, and they headed back up to the tenth floor to rendezvous with the troops.
Iantrogen offices, Second Floor Offices, Spire
It was getting late in the afternoon, and the office was still busy with people trying to wrap up for the day.
Mr. Iace practically had to jog next to Molly as she and her team strode through the second-floor office to Soraya Burns’ workstation. “Are you sure you can’t delay this until after hours?”
Molly stopped suddenly, causing Brock to bump into Pieter and Pieter to crash into Joel. Paige kept walking in the direction of the workstation where they had picked Ms. Burns up a little earlier.
Molly turned to Mr. Iace. “Do you want to catch the person who has been receiving this data?” she asked. She eyed him carefully. “Or would you rather he went home at six o’clock and we miss him because, well, you didn’t want your staff knowing something was going on?”
She felt she let him off the hook a little there. No point in accusing him of a set-up until they knew precisely who and what they were dealing with.
Mr. Iace looked flustered. “No, no, of course not!” He hesitated, like he didn’t know what to do. In the end, he just waved his hand in the direction Molly had been walking and let her continue.
Molly kept walking and the team followed, trailed at a distance now by Mr. Iace.
The group assembled around the workstation, and Brock sat himself down at the terminal and began to work.
Oz, you wanna be in on this?
Yes, I’ll communicate with Brock through his holo and implant. I have no microphone accessible for him to speak to me.
Ok, fine.
Molly placed her hand on Brock’s shoulder as he sat at the terminal. “Oz is going to patch into your holo and audio implant so you can communicate,” she told him discreetly.
Brock nodded, and glanced at Mr. Iace briefly before continuing to hook up the device.
Joel started talking to Mr. Iace about managing the staff and the building, deliberately running interference so Iace couldn’t see exactly what they were doing.
Paige and Pieter stood in his line of sight too. They had placed themselves between him and the workstation, and were chatting casually.
Ok, we’ve isolated the connection, and their original covert relay. Brock is going to have to switch out the mirror device somewhere between the eighteen-second cycles. I can attempt to synch it and control any spike in current, but he’s going to have to catch that window or else it will trip all their alerts.
Does he understand that?
Yes. He’s ready to do it any time you give the go-ahead.
Ok. Make it so.
Molly watched as Brock deftly took the complex device he had built in less than an hour and unhooked what looked like a transformer from the innards of the workstation. Halfway through the changeover, he started typing fast on the holo. Pieter noticed this, and sat down next to him, following what was happening.
Brock looked surprised.
Oz? What’s happening?
I’ve just pulled Pieter in to help. There is a subroutine that has detected our interference. We need to catch it before the end of the cycle so it doesn’t report back.
Can you do it?
Yes, Pieter is working on trapping it. I’m still isolating it from the device.
Brock moved away from the keyboard and continued rewiring. He looked worried. Stressed.
What’s going on?
The new device isn’t mirroring exactly.
Brock opened the device and checked a few things. Noticing that one of the connections had come loose, he tightened it as best he could without any glue or solder.
Brock closed the casing. “Ok, it’s connected,” he reported.
He finished the task on his holo and looked at Pieter’s screen.
Pieter was still typing furiously, reading code and altering it. Countering the program that had taken over the hard drive of the terminal.
A moment later he stopped. Pushing himself back from the screen, he just stared.
Brock was motionless, watching the screen, occasionally glancing at his mirror device nervously.
What? What’s happening?
Oz was silent.
Oz! Tell me!
It’s… it’s ok. We’ve...
Another long pause.
We’ve got it. Tracing now.
Brock breathed a sigh of relief and leaned his arms on his legs, dropping his head.
Pieter started shaking his head and took a deep breath. “Bloody close call, that was!” he exclaimed.
Chapter 9
Iantrogen offices, Second Floor Offices, Spire
Molly was back on the case. “Ok, let’s make sure we track it properly. We don’t know how many cycles we’re going to get before we’re detected.”
Pieter pulled his chair back to his holo station, and Brock was already typing furiously, tracking the signal.
Oz. Any thoughts?
I’ve been scanning the network beyond the building’s router. I can’t see any signal of the type we’re looking for. Checking now to see if it’s being disguised in a normal packet somewhere before it leaves the building.
Ok. Let me know.
Brock stopped typing. “Erm. I don’t know if this is right,” he said, hesitantly. He turned his head toward Molly but kept his eyes on the screen.
Molly stepped over to see. She looked at the data and cocked her head. “That says it’s sending the data within the building. Oz was just saying he can’t see anything unusual outside the building.”
Brock shook his head gently. “I just… I dunno.”
Pieter had stopped typing too. “I’m getting the same result.”
Molly frowned. “What location do you have?” she asked Pieter.
Pieter tapped a few keys to check. “Ninth floor. Terminal assigned to Jessica Newld. CEO.”
Molly raised her eyebrows. She turned back to Joel, “Isn’t she…”
Joel nodded. “All over the news all the time,” he agreed.
Mr. Iace stepped forward. “Jessica Newld is our CEO. Her family founded this company several generations back.”
Joel was unfazed by her status. “Giving her a perfect motive, from what we can see,” he interjected. “May I take a security detail to have a word with her?”
Mr. Iace didn’t know what to do, other than to cooperate. “Yes, yes of course,” he stammered, pulling out his holo to make a call. He started walking toward the elevators. Joel beckoned for Crash to come with him, and the two of them followed him out.
Molly looked back at the screen, thinking.
* * *
Joel and Crash led the way to Jessica’s office on the ninth floor. Having gathered up three armed security guards, they had informed their contact at Framan about the turn of events and been advised to make the citizen’s arrest “with caution.” Joel suspected their caution was a function of both their client relationship and the fact that Jessica probably had big scary-ass lawyers who could take them out with the slightest misstep.
Joel felt alert as he approached her office.
They reached the end of the corridor and stepped into the assistant’s office.
Jessica was standing by her assistant’s desk holo, talking with her. Both ladies looked up, surprised to see anyone let alone a task force of security personnel in her office.
Jessica’s face turned cold. “Yes?” she asked, maintaining her authority.
Joel stepped forward. “Jessica Newld, we have reason to suspect you of corporate espionage. Would you come with us, please?” He signaled for Crash to go ahead and check her office.
Jessica looked indignant. “How does that work when it’s my company?” Her eyes glared, and her voice was harsh now.
Joel smiled politely. “We can sort out those details and your motivation when the police get here. For now, I need you to come with me.”
Jessica looked like she was going to protest, but instead she turned to her assistant. “Please call Bill and get him down here right away.”
Her assistant connected the call immediately. Joel assumed that Bill was her scary lawyer that Jones had warned him about when he called Framan.
“This way, please,” he gestured, showing her to the door. “I trust restraints won’t be necessary?”
She walked past him, fuming. He smirked once she was in front of him. This was a part of the military job he never got to do.
Damn, this is fun! he thought, following her out.
He and the security detail marched her down to the level-two meeting rooms where they could keep her secure and out of the sight of other staff members.
Eventually the police arrived, and Joel did a handover. Pieter and Crash confirmed that the device in her office was the one receiving the intel, and Pieter, with Oz’s help, was able to pull a sample of the data that had been transmitted.
Molly saw what they were doing, and despite Mr. Iace and Mr. Grimm now hovering, she quietly made a complete copy for examination later.
Oz noticed her activity.
What you up to?
Appeasing my Grindle-senses! Grab the rest of the team on their holos and have them meet on level ten when they’re done tying up loose ends. I want to congratulate them on a job well done.
Roger that, boss-lady. Roger that.
Barstucks Coffee Co., Opposite Iantrogen Offices
Paige trotted after Molly, trying to keep up as they strode across the busy road. “Why are we coming here to get mochas? You think after saving their company they would be able to hook us up with mochas from their offices?
Molly held her hand out, causing a car to slow down as they scuttled to the safety of the sidewalk. “Yeah, I’m sure they would have,” she called over her shoulder to Paige. “I just wanted to get out of there for a few minutes,” she confessed.
“Oh!” Paige shielded her eyes from the dust in the atmosphere. “How long until the others are ready?” she asked.
Molly glanced down at her holo as they made their way down the sidewalk. “Looks like we still have half an hour. They’re waiting for Newld’s lawyer to appear,” she explained. Paige had caught up, so Molly could talk more normally now. “Joel thought it was important to meet him and get a read on him, and I thought it was a good idea. You never know.”
The two ladies made it to the mocha shop and slipped through the two sets of doors out of the atmosphere.
“Phew,” exhaled Paige, shaking her hair out, and dusting off her arms. “Sandy today!”
Molly had hardly noticed. She was eyeing the board of mocha specials, trying to decide what she could reward herself with that would still allow her to get some shut-eye on the trip home.
The barista behind the counter ambled over. “Can I take your order?”
Molly nodded, then asked Paige. “You know what you want?”
Paige stepped over, having rearranged her long hair over her shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll have a mocha with cream, thanks.” The barista tapped in her order.
“You wanna read off that list for the others?” Molly asked her. Paige rummaged on her holo. “Sure.”
Molly decided to get her order in while Paige rummaged. “I’ll have a straight mocha, room for rice milk.” She tapped her holo to pay for the whole order, and Paige started listing the orders for the rest of the team.
Molly moved away from the counter and sat down at one of the tables nearby. It was going to take a while for them to make everything and pack it for transport.
She looked out the window. People were scurrying around on the street, up and down, trying to get wherever they needed to be despite the dust cloud that had hit the city. It was fast becoming evening now, and traffic had increased. Her heart sank as she thought about getting back to the Spaceport.
Just then, she became aware of someone in front of her. She jumped, then looked at the man who sat down in the chair in front of her. She began to get angry.
Then she realized who it was.
Sean Royale.
The anger increased.
“Son of a fokking bitch!” she said spontaneously. She noticed people looking at her, including the barista Paige was still talking to.
Sean grinned. “Good to see you too!”
“You fucking arsewipe of a traitorous helvítis brundskrapari!” She scowled at him. “You have some andskotans nerve showing up here.”
He was still grinning. “Anyone told you you’re pretty when you’re furious?”
“Fuck off,” she said flatly.
Sean sat back in his chair. “Hang on,” he said, standing up a little and signaling to Paige. “Grab me a mocha. Straight. No frills. No onions. I’m coming with you guys.”
Paige nodded, smiling. She glanced at Molly, amused at her reaction to him. She repeated Sean’s request to the barista.
Sean sat back down and leaned back in the chair again. “So, looks like you missed me.”
Molly turned in her chair, crossing her legs toward the window. “What are you doing here?”
Sean folded his arms. “Came to talk to you.”
Molly didn’t have anything to say. She just kept looking out the window.
Sean tried to catch her eye. “Heard you met the General,” he ventured.
Molly just looked at him, eyebrows raised.
“And ADAM,” he tried again.
Molly shook her head and shrugged nonchalantly.
Sean sighed. In all his years of dealing with women, he knew there was only one way to get out of this. “Ok. I’m sorry I misled your team and didn’t tell you about the second device.”
Molly relaxed her face a little, but kept her arms and legs crossed.
He sat up a little. “I had to,” he tried to justify.
Molly raised one eyebrow.
Sean glanced out across the empty tables and chairs, and ruffled the back of his head. “Look, I’m sure you have questions. How about I try and answer them, and if you still don’t want to talk to me by the time you’ve finished your mocha, I’ll go away again.”
Molly eyed him cautiously.
“Deal?” he pressed.
She unfolded her arms. “Ok.”
Paige had finished putting the order in and was now waiting for the mochas to be deposited on the counter at the end. She had a carrier ready, and napkins in hand.
Molly asked her first question. “Did you know about the base under our safe house?”
Sean nodded. “Yes. But I’ve never been there. I thought I could—”
Molly cut him off. “How long have you worked for Reynolds?”
Sean responded without missing a beat. “Can’t tell you that.”
Molly blinked. “Why not?”
“Classified,” he said bluntly.
Molly fired her next question. “Do you really work for Garet?”
Sean nodded once. “Yes.”
Molly barely moved between questions. She asked the next one. “Were you sent to work for Garet by Reynolds?”
“Yes.”
She reeled off her next question. “Does Garet know?”
“No.”
“Does Garet know anything about the General and the operation, or our involvement?”
Sean’s expression was blank as he rapidly responded to each question. “No.”
“But he’s important to the political stage here in Sark?”
“Exactly.”
Molly paused, musing about what else she needed to ask him.
Sean leaned forward and interrupted her thinking . “So now can I come and see your space base?”
Molly scowled.
Sean leaned back a bit. “Ok. Too soon.”
Paige had managed to pack the mochas into two carriers. She called Molly over, and together they manhandled the carriers out of the mocha shop, Sean Royale in tow.
* * *
Sitting out of view but within earshot of the table where Sean and Molly had talked, a lone reporter on her umpteenth cup of mocha waited quietly. She cautiously poked her head around the column that had separated them and watched as Sean Royale left behind the two girls. Though she hadn’t been able to get a good look of their faces, she could tell from the conversation exactly who they were.
She smiled.
Maya Johnstone had finally “met” Molly Bates.
And what an enlightening conversation it had been! She was right about the base on the asteroid. She was right about the Beaufort connection to all of this. She was right about Sean being in league with the good guys, though it sounded like that little stunt he’d pulled with the second device had caused a tiff.
Maya glanced back over the notes she’d been making throughout the interaction. She quickly started jotting down the questions she was going to pose and answer in her next Whistleblown article.
Chapter 10
Iantrogen Offices, Tenth floor Offices, Spire
“Honestly! Only you, girl.” Brock eyed the muscular hulk who had followed Paige and Molly onto the tenth floor. “You go out to get mochas, and you come back with a goddamn meat-feast of a marine in tow.”
Molly had to correct Brock. “Don’t get too excited. He’s an asshole.”
Sean stepped into the room and hovered by the workspace where Brock, Crash, and Pieter were kicking their heels waiting for Joel to get done.
Molly put her carrier of mochas on the table with Paige’s, who set about handing them out.
Molly got out of her way and sat down. She made the introductions in her pretend-professional voice. “Most of you already know this double-crossing jerk from our last mission.” She counted the folks at the table. “In fact, the only team member you haven’t fucked over, I mean, met, is Brock.”
Brock stood up and walked around to shake Sean’s hand.
Molly kept talking. “Brock, this is Asshole. Asshole, Brock.”
Brock shook his hand, and did a little curtsy at the same time. “Nice to meet you, Asshole!” he said, smiling.
Sean gave him a strong handshake in return. Brock blushed a little.
Molly had planned to thank her team then and there, but Iace and Grimm both walked onto the floor and came over to join them. She was confined to the bondage of small talk instead, until Joel finally arrived.
“Sorry,” Joel announced. “Got held up waiting for the lawyer.”
Molly smiled at him.
Grimm was the first to speak. “I just wanted to say thank you for your hard work and the swift results.” His face was fraught with concern, though. “As you know, this outcome puts us in a delicate position. Jessica Newld is the majority shareholder and CEO of this company. I’m not quite sure how this is going to play out.”
Molly reassured him. “Well this doesn’t reflect badly on anyone here. You were doing your job, and you have a duty of care to protect the company and its research. You were correct in bringing her actions to light.”
Joel nodded, impressed by Molly’s bizarre sensitivity to the situation.
She noticed him watching her, and promptly ignored it.
Grimm nodded solemnly. “Yes. Thank you. And thank you for your discretion on this. I’m assuming we can count on you to keep this confidential?”
Joel spoke up. “We have to report back to Framan, since they’re the folks who hired us. But beyond that, yes—of course.”
Brock leaned over to Crash. “Not like the rest of us have anyone to tell anyway,” he whispered. Crash glanced at him sideways through narrowed eyes and shook his head, remembering the last time he’d made that comment.
Mr. Grimm stepped forward to shake Molly’s hand. “Well, thank you again. We’ll of course be releasing the full bonus to the company, and we’ll be giving Mr. Jones a glowing report of your work here.” He then turned to Joel and shook his hand before opening his palms to the whole group. “Really, thank you. Your efforts are much appreciated.”
The group responded with mutters of “You’re welcome” and the like, and then Grimm made his way to the door. “I’ll leave you with Mr. Iace to see you out. Again, thank you, and perhaps we’ll meet again.”
And he was gone.
Mr. Iace, with all the attention now on him, muttered something about getting a car to take them to the Spaceport. He pulled up his holo, spoke to someone, and then suggested he take them down to the parking lot.
Sean leaned over to Molly. “You gonna let me do my job and come to the base to show you how your toys work?”
Molly glanced down at her empty mocha cup. “I’ve fulfilled my part of the deal,” she said, showing him it was empty.
Brock overheard. “So Sean knows about the base?” he asked excitedly.
Sean nodded. “The General has put me at your disposal, but your boss here,” he glanced at Molly, who was still looking into her empty paper cup, “has trust issues.”
She glared at him. “It’s not called trust issues when you’re dealing with lying bastards. It’s called boundaries.”
“Po-tay-toes, po-tah-toes,” Sean replied. “I told you I’m sorry. And I was operating under orders not to inform you until the General decided you were ready.”
Joel was watching the interaction. Molly glanced up at him.
He nodded.
She rolled her eyes and relented. “Short leash. If you so much as omit the truth once or make me suspect you of anything, you’re going to be off that asteroid faster than Crash can take the Phoenix beyond the short atmosphere.
Sean smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”
Brock grinned. Paige glanced over, realizing that something had just happened and she’d missed it.
Mr. Iace had finished his holo call and invited the group to follow him down to the parking lot. There they were met by Grey-suits One and Two again and piled back into the transport, this time with one additional passenger.
Sitting in the people carrier once more, Joel started to relax.
Molly looked at him. “Not like in the Space Marines, eh?”
He leaned his head into the headrest. “No, it is not.” He smiled across at her. “I think I could get used to this.”
Sean was sitting a row behind him, looking at Molly. “Me too,” he said. “Me too.”
Molly glared at his presumptiveness. Not on my team, you’re not, asshole.
Spaceport, Hangar 08771A, Outskirts of Uptarlung
The car pulled up at the hangar. The team, and Sean, piled out.
Joel threw his gear down on the grassy area next to their hangar, and signaled to Molly. “Going to give Framan a call to check in.”
Molly nodded.
Joel opened his holo and connected with them after a few moments. “Hi, yeah. This is Joel Dunham. Yes, that’s right. Ok. Sure. If you just let him know that everything was resolved and that the client has agreed to release the bonus too, that would be great. Yes. Yes. That’s perfect. I’ll look forward to that. Yes. We’re ready when you are.”
Crash had gotten the hangar open and the team was traipsing in, gathering gear and getting ready to depart.
Molly ambled over to Joel’s position as he hung up.
“All good?” she checked.
Joel grinned. “Yep. Sounds like the money will be in our account just as soon as they’ve reviewed the reports. So anytime in the next day or so.”
Molly put her hand up to high-five Joel. He slapped her hand hard. “Owwww!”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re such a girl!”
She laughed and slapped him on his chest. “So anyway, how much is that?”
Joel notice Sean watching out of the corner of his eye. Sean picked up his pack and headed inside.
Joel looked up, remembering the figures. “Well it was a hundred and fifty thousand for the job, and then an additional one hundred thousand for the successful apprehension of the perpetrator. So that’s two hundred fifty thousand.”
Molly beamed. “We’re quarter of the way there!” She paused for a moment, having a thought. “Hey, did you want to mention our suspicions to them?”
Joel shook his head. “No. Norm thinks it’s a bad idea in case they’re in on it.”
Joel picked up his gear, and they ambled into the hangar with the others.
Molly looked confused. “What, wait? Who the fuck is Norm?” she asked.
Brock was walking past, checking something under the ship. “It’s his alter ego!” he chipped in. “His inner conspiracy-theorist!”
Molly laughed out loud. Joel couldn’t resist chuckling either.
Brock was chortling away, fiddling with something on the ship. “See, there was me thinking he was all normal and sane, and then in the middle of an op, we get a whiff that he might just be as cray-cray as the rest of us! Woot!”
Molly looked at Joel, who had gone a little red with embarrassment.
Brock was still talking. “Ancestors can rest my soul.” He laughed, finishing what he was doing and making his way up the ramp ahead of them.
Molly grinned. She was becoming very fond of Brock.
Chuckling, they followed Brock onto the ship.
Crash was standing at the top of the ramp, staring at something on his holo. He was wearing one of his blank expressions, the one that meant “not happy.”
“Everything ok?” Molly asked.
Crash looked up at her. “Yeah. I just got another ticket.”
Molly racked her brains trying to think of what could have gone wrong. “What for this time?”
Crash sighed, a little frustrated. “Not waiting for a signal when the airfield was goddamn empty!”
Joel clapped him on the shoulder. “Sorry, buddy.”
Crash bobbed his head. “Yeah. Sucks.”
Molly frowned, confused. “Crash, you do know all the rules of the Spaceport, right?”
Crash nodded. “Yeah, inside and out. They’re just superfluous eighty percent of the time.”
Molly shook her head and went to get settled in.
She had no words.
On board the Phoenix Reign, (somewhere between Gaitune and Estaria)
Several hours into the flight, Sean stood up and leaned over the seat in front of him, where Molly was sitting. “You still mad at me?” he asked.
She didn’t turn or look at him. “A little,” she answered.
Sean sat back down. “Ok,” he said quietly.
Paige, who was sitting several rows back, noticed and poked Pieter, who was across the aisle from her. “What do you make of him?” she whispered.
Pieter glanced at where Paige was looking. “Sean? Seems ok. But you heard about the stunt he pulled, right?”
Paige nodded. “With the second toxin? Yeah.”
Pieter turned his head toward her. “I think that’s why Mollz is having trouble trusting him,” he confided.
Paige looked confused. “But he said he’s sorry.”
Pieter shook his head a tiny bit, and leaned a little closer so he could speak more quietly. “Yeah, it’s not about that, though. It’s about trust,” he explained. “She trusted him, and he took advantage of that.”
Paige pursed her lips, a little anxiously. “But he had instructions.”
Pieter’s head bobbed as he expanded on his point. “Yeah, I’m sure she appreciates that, but it just goes to show that for whatever reason, she’ll never be able to fully trust him. That’s why she’s keeping him at arm’s length,” he finished.
Paige looked at him. “You seem to have a lot of thoughts on this.”
Pieter leaned back in his seat. “Well, I’ve had a bit of experience when it comes to losing people’s trust. It’s probably the most precious thing you can give a person, and when it’s violated, it takes a lot of time and effort to win it back.”
Paige thought about what he had just said, trying to figure out exactly what might have happened in Pieter’s past. From her position, she couldn’t see Sean’s sad expression as he sat back in his seat after trying to talk to Molly.
Gaitune-67, Secret Basement Base, Ops Room
Having made it back to the base, the entire team was exhausted. Joel had shown Sean to his sleeping quarters with a promise to show him round the base in the morning.
Sean had seemed satisfied by the compromise, and didn’t even attempt to pester Molly to show him around.
Perhaps he knew what might have happened if he had pressed his luck, thought Joel as Molly closed the door to her quarters. Sean, watching her, reluctantly did the same.
The next morning, Joel and Sean had already started their tour when Molly showed up, mocha in hand, possibly still in her sleeping clothes, as they were coming back from the weapons store.
Sean saw her coming first. “You just got up?” he asked, looking her up and down and noticing she didn’t have anything on her feet.
She grunted, and took another sip of mocha. “What gave it away?”
Sean waved at her hair. “Erm…bed-head.”
Over her mocha cup, Molly mumbled back at him, “That was what I was going for.”
Joel was standing behind Sean. He smirked slightly. Molly tilted her head to talk to Joel around Sean. “Do I need to be here?”
Joel shook his head. “Nah. We got this.”
She nodded, and without having bothered to make eye contact with Sean again, padded out, presumably to continue her morning caffeination ritual.
Sean turned to Joel. “Is she going to break my balls forever?” he asked, a hint of disbelief in his tone.
Joel shrugged. “Possibly. She let you in. You let her down. The best you can hope for is that over time you’ll give her enough data points to counteract the distrust she has for you now. You’re going to have to earn it though, dude. You screwed her over royally.”
Sean sighed, shaking his head. Just then Joel’s holo beeped, and Oz spoke in his ear. Joel opened the holo.
Joel, we have a situation. Framan is asking us to respond to a hostage scenario, but it’s urgent and we’re obviously more than a day’s travel away.
Molly padded back into the room.
Joel looked up at her.
Joel held her eye while talking with Oz. “Ok. So we can’t do it unless we have a quicker way of getting there.”
Yes. That may be possible, though. I’ve noticed that there are a number of Pods—transport devices—that I’m able to interface with on the base network. Looks like they can travel at nearly the speed of light.
How the hell?
Let’s do the physics lesson later, but for now, we can take this job, if we can use the Pods.
Joel spoke out loud. “But the General has forbidden us to mess with any of the goodies until we pass the test.”
Molly continued his thought process. “And we can’t pass the test unless we can save those hostages.”
Joel looked at the case file Oz displayed on his holo. “Nice bounty on this one. One hundred thousand credits for the job, five hundred fifty thousand bonus if we save all the hostages.”
Sean had been watching the conversation fragments going back and forth between Molly and Joel. Hypothesis One: they had linked themselves together in some kind of hive mind. Hypothesis Two: they had someone like ADAM in their ear. Hypothesis Three: they had a secret language that only they shared.
He was going with Hypothesis Two. Hypothesis Three he just didn’t like. “Ok, guys,” he interrupted, “you going to cut me in on what’s going on? And who else are you communicating with?” he added.
Molly looked at him blankly. “We have a chance to rescue hostages, but without using the super-fast Pods we’re not going to get there in time.”
Sean grinned. “Pods? You need to know how to use the Pods?” He paused, holding steady eye contact with Molly. “I can show you that.” He grinned, expecting to get the knight-in-shining-armor treatment.
Molly wasn’t smiling. “That’s only part of it, asshole. We need to have the General approve it because of this little challenge he has us on.”
Sean thought for a moment. “Can I give ADAM a quick call?”
Molly gestured for him to go ahead.
Sean wandered off through the consoles straight to the primaries near the front of the room.
Joel watched, intrigued.
Sean stepped onto one of the console platforms and pressed a few buttons. He looked like he was chatting with someone. A moment later he came back.
Sean was grinning from ear to ear now. “ADAM has approved the use of the Pods for the purpose of getting to Estaria quickly enough to save lives.”
Molly thought all he needed to add to his statement was #knightinshiningarmor. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
Oz, can you confirm with ADAM that we have authorization?
Sure. One second.
There was a pause.
Yes, authorization is confirmed. And Sean will instruct us on how to use them.
Ok. Rally the troops and give them the 411 on what’s happening. We meet in the base hangar in forty minutes.
Molly turned to Sean. “Sean, thank you. I’d appreciate your help on this.”
Sean grinned, thankful for an opportunity to be of use and perhaps redeem himself. Somewhat.
“Now if you’ll excuse me,” Molly continued, “I need to slip into something more… functional.” She looked down at her baggy t-shirt and shorts. Sean couldn’t be sure, because he was trying not to look, but he suspected she might not have been wearing a bra under that t-shirt.
She padded out of the ops room again, leaving the boys watching her exit.
After a moment, in tandem, they each took a deep breath and shook their heads, then continued talking about the finer details of the weapons store they’d just toured.
Chapter 11
Gaitune-67, Secret Basement Base, Hanger Deck
Oz, all set?
Yes, I’m hooked into the Pods so I can control all of them from your holo. Well, holo plus additional circuits.
You mean my brain.
Yes.
Let’s not forget that. The organic part of your processing unit.
Noted.
Good.
The team had assembled on the hangar deck surrounding what Sean had identified as the Pods. They were egg-shaped with slick exteriors and no obvious access to the interior. Paige wondered how many people you could really fit in one.
Joel, Sean and Molly stood in front of what must have been a dozen of them and faced the team, their backs to the Pods.
Joel started the briefing. “Ok, people, in a few moments Sean is going to show us how these babies work.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward the Pods. “These are going to get us down to the surface fast. But in the meantime, let me tell you about our mission.”
He projected his voice so that it didn’t disappear into the vastness of the hangar deck. “We have a situation just outside of Spire. A research facility has been taken over by a group whose motives and allegiances are unknown. We’ll call them the unsubs. Unknown Subjects.”
He paused, slowing himself down and giving the group the chance to take it all in. “This group has taken eighty-four hostages. No one has died yet, and we want to keep it that way. Our job is to go in and extract the hostages. The unsubs are expendable, and we have authorization from the police and the AG of Spire to take them out without repercussions. Framan, our boss, has asked us to leave some of them alive so they will be able to find out who these fuckwits are.”
He concluded his briefing. “We’ll know more when we get to the surface, but for now, that’s what we know.”
Joel looked at Sean, and took a step back.
Sean glanced at the earnest and excited faces. “As I understand it, Oz has hooked into these Pods and will be controlling them for you. You can interface with Oz simply by speaking inside the Pod, but from outside you need to type to Oz in your holo, because he would need a microphone to capture your speech.”
He looked around the team. “Everyone got the digits to connect with Oz from their holo?”
They all nodded.
“Good,” he continued. “Ok, this is how you open the doors.” He demonstrated, pressing on the outer shell of the nearest Pod. “Then you simply hop in,” he explained. He held one finger in the air, then pointed down at the lower part of the doorway, warning them. “Careful about this lip here,” he pointed down at the ledge on the Pod. “I’ve seen more than a few cadets trip trying to get their Bambi asses into these things. Oh, and be aware of your balance. For the most part the Pod is designed to adapt, but don’t go throwing yourself around in there. Oz has enough to coordinate with the processing capability he has access to.”
Pieter glanced at Molly. He had guessed that Oz was using her brain to pull extra processing capacity. He watched to see if she was going to react to Sean referring to her “limited capabilities.” She didn’t bat an eyelid.
Figures, Pieter thought to himself.
Sean continued. “Max three people per Pod. I’d go two for the lads.” He looked at Crash and Joel. “Once you’re in the Pod, Oz will close the doors and control movement. Since we don’t have an exact location yet, we’re going to have to pull into orbit, hover out of sight but within holo range, and wait for Joel’s contact to send the coordinates. Once we have those we can drop to the exact address.”
Sean walked backwards, opening three of the Pods as he went. “Now, this is alien tech,” he continued.
Brock leaned over to Crash with his hand over his mouth. “No shit, Sherlock.” Crash nodded his head once discreetly to acknowledge the comment.
Sean was still talking. “We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves or get shot down. So what we’re going to do is drop in, get out of the Pods quickly, and then let Oz take them back into orbit beyond the reach of Estarian satellites. Got it?”
Everyone nodded again.
Sean came back to the center of the group.
“That’s always the protocol with these things. Remember that. Once we’re on the ground, you’re back under Joel’s command.” He indicated Joel, then clapped his hands to rally the troops. “Right, let’s go save some hostages!” he declared.
The team whooped and whistled.
Molly stood observing them, pleased at how the team was coming together without her constant input.
They climbed into their Pods. Paige and Pieter went together, then Crash and Brock, Molly and Joel, and Sean boarded his own Pod.
Oz’s synthetic voice piped over their speakers. “All aboard,” he told them, closing the doors.
Molly suddenly had a thought. “Hang on, how are we going to get out of here? We’re in an underground hangar.”
Joel swiveled in his seat, suddenly wondering too. There was no way of seeing out of the back of the Pod, and the front window only showed the deck where they had just been standing.
Sean smiled to himself in his Pod, hearing her through the collective audio link.
A moment later, Oz came on the speakers again. “Trust me.”
The Pods lifted, and started moving quickly toward the doors in formation.
Oz, are you sure you’ve got this?
Have I ever let you down?
Molly racked her brains for an example. Coming up empty, she decided to watch the back of the hangar wall, since it was fast approaching.
Oz. Really? Good time to—
The wall started opening as if it were a huge door, exposing the inside of the hangar to space.
Molly was first to notice. “Hang on,” she said. “how come things aren’t flying out of the hangar into the vacuum?”
Sean came over the audio. “We haven’t penetrated the forcefield yet.”
Molly rolled her eyes and looked at Joel. “Sean, how long have you been able to hear us?”
She heard him chuckle. “There’s a console when you tap the window. See? A heads-up display.”
Molly tapped the window and saw the different options. Each of the Pods was selectable, presumably so she could communicate with the team. One was highlighted in red.
That must be Sean. She tapped it, and it went dark. That’ll show him. She smiled to herself and sat back, not noticing that Joel was also smiling a little.
The Pods swooped out into space and turned, giving them a view of Gaitune-67. Then, after hovering for a second, they sped off through space.
Crash recognized the spacescape they were traveling through. “Shit, we’re going fast!” he exclaimed, seeing stars and space-marks pass out of view quickly.
In a fraction of an hour they had made it to Estaria. The glowing red planet loomed below their feet.
Oz made an announcement. “Ladies and gentlemen, Estaria awaits below. Joel, now would be a good time to call for those coordinates.”
Joel was already connecting his holo to his Framan contact. A moment later he hung up. “Got them, Oz. They’ve just sent them.”
Oz located them on his holo, and directed the Pods to their final destination.
The descent was interesting. Fast, but controlled. As they passed through the lower atmosphere, Molly felt like she was going to lose her stomach a few times. The descent seemed to just keep going, even when they could see trees and road tracks.
Finally they “landed,” which to Oz seemed to mean stopping ten feet above the ground.
Molly noticed. “Hey Oz, you wanna put us down a little closer?”
Oh? You don’t want to drop from here?
No, Oz, we don’t want to drop from this height.
Molly felt her brain tickle. Oz was laughing again.
She tried to scratch her head, but it had no effect. And I do wish you wouldn’t do that!
Oz lowered the Pods so they were hovering just above the ground, and tilted them slightly to make their exit easier. Once they were all out, the Pod doors closed quickly, then the Pods lifted rapidly and silently into the upper atmosphere.
Molly and Joel looked at each other. Joel grinned. “Well, that beats a day-long schlep on a ship!” he commented.
Molly looked around, making sure the whole team was together. She beckoned them over as Joel scouted the situation.
The Pods had dropped them about twenty yards from a road, and beyond that was a building with a horde of police, SWAT and fire companies with their lights flashing.
Joel called to Molly, “Looks like we’ve got our location.” He pointed at the building and activity.
She turned to the group. “Ok, folks. Let’s get over there and find out who we need to talk to about access.”
The group traipsed over to Joel and followed him across the road.
Paige turned to Pieter. “Nervous?”
He nodded. “You?”
She smiled. “Hell, yes!”
He grinned back at her.
Arriving at the conglomeration of police vehicles and such, Joel took the lead. A sergeant pointed him over to the police primary.
“Greetings,” said Joel, holding out his hand to the guy. “Framan sent us. We were told Detective Lato would get us inserted.”
Detective Lato knew exactly who they were. He nodded in acknowledgment at Molly, and shook Joel’s outstretched hand. “Greetings. Baz Lato. Good to have you here.”
He beckoned with his head. “Let me show you what we know, and then you can decide how you’d like to proceed.”
Molly frowned to herself. Odd we should automatically be offered the lead on this. No resistance. Everything pre-arranged. Over the police?
Makes you wonder who the client is.
Yes. Wanna do some digging?
Sure.
The detective led them into a portable workspace where they had holos and data feeds set up to give them eyes into certain areas in the building.
Detective Lato started the briefing, his eyes watching the screens, and he gestured at details on the screens now and then.
“Building is a research facility. Chemicals on-site are mostly in small quantities, a few kilograms in the storage areas. Nothing flammable or dangerous. Sample sizes tend to be small. Nothing like in the production plants, so you’re probably ok unless you blow the sample storage to living hell.”
He indicated at the screen with a camera feed on it. “We have eyes on the outside entrance and the rear. None inside the building. All have been disabled.”
He turned and waved at another screen. “We’ve been able to get a drone near the windows to map locations. Eighty-four hostages, all on the fourth floor as far as we can tell. Mostly guarded by one guy inside the room, and another two in the corridors.”
He indicated a holo sketch they’d drawn up, showing a three-dimensional representation of the building and the location of hostages.
“Tangos are shown in red. As you can see, most of them have congregated in the control room. Looks like they’re monitoring communications and cameras.”
Molly turned her head toward Lato, her eyes still on the diagram. “Any demands been made?”
Lato shook his head. “None yet.”
Molly frowned. “How long have they been in the building?” she asked.
“Nearly five hours.”
She looked at Joel. “Would have expected some requests by now. They must be up to something else.”
Joel grunted. He looked around the work center. “Have you established communication with them?”
Lato nodded, and indicated to a workstation with a relatively skinny forty-something-year-old Ogg. “Our hostage negotiator, Rex, has been in touch. Nothing useful yet, though.”
Joel wandered over to introduce himself, and started talking with the Ogg.
Molly turned to include Sean in the conversation. “I’m thinking we’re probably going to have to breach. If they’re mostly down here in the control room, they could well be after something else. Why else leave the hostages all the way out here with only three guards?”
Sean followed her finger through the holo.
Molly poked the area where the hostages were. “I think we need to find a way to get up to the fourth floor and breach there. Extract the hostages, then take out the tangos after the fact as necessary.
Sean agreed, “Sounds fine. I just have a niggly feeling about this one though.”
Molly wrinkled her nose. “Me too. So far it makes no sense.”
She turned to Lato again. “Do we have any reason to suspect that anything is rigged with explosives, like windows on that floor, or the hostages themselves?”
Lato shook his head. “Doubt it. We can check with the guys who got to the scene first. They’re out there somewhere.” He called one of his team over and asked him to have Higgins come and join them.
Joel returned, shaking his head. “Rex is following procedure. We haven’t got any indication of a deadline, or any negotiables yet. Thankfully there’s no indication that anyone is injured. It’s like,” he paused briefly, “they’re just waiting.”
Molly stopped for a moment, then turned to Lato. “We need to get those hostages out of there. Looks like breaching the fourth-floor window is our best bet. What are our options for that?”
Lato took a deep breath. “It’s too high for a ladder or a chute.” He looked at the building and shook his head, thinking. “I suppose we could get a car up there, but for so many it would take a while.”
Molly agreed. “Yeah it needs to be a fast and complete extraction. As soon as the tangos suspect anything they’ll come in guns blazing. Or worse.”
She frowned, remembering their extraction of Garet what seemed like a lifetime ago. “Have you got anything bigger than a car. Like maybe a ship?”
Lato looked confused. “Well, we have the normal carriers that will transport teams between locations, but they’re not used in this kind of close-range stuff. Keeping one of those stable at this kind of altitude, so close to a building, is—”
“Near impossible?” interjected Joel.
Lato nodded.
Molly wasn’t done. “Yeah, the issue is maintaining stability at low altitude. But what if Oz could make some adaptations, and Brock could build a bridge or something to get close enough without the blasters setting the building on fire. Maybe some additional stabilizers?”
Joel bobbed his head, his arms folded across his chest. “Possible.”
Lato shrugged. “If you guys want to tackle that, I can get one over here.”
Molly nodded, still frowning a little. “Yes, do that please.”
Sound ok, Oz?
Yes.
Ok, any way to hack into that security system? Could do with hearing what’s been going on in there for the last five hours.
Working on it. Their encryption isn’t making a whole lot of sense to me, though. It seems random. Not as in predictably random like a number generator…
He paused.
But people-random.
How do you mean?
Like a person encrypted it using information that doesn’t follow any kind of key, at least not one that I can infer.
Ok. Keep at it, and let me know.
Molly moved over to the team to explain what was going on.
“So what’s the game plan, boss?” Brock asked.
Molly thought for a moment, just making sure she had covered all the bases she knew about. She gave them a rundown of what they had discovered thus far.
Then she turned to Joel and Sean. “Joel and Sean need to suit up for the op. The three of us are going to breach.”
Then she pivoted to Crash and Brock. “Crash, I hope you brought your A-game with you. Detective Lato is sourcing us a ship usually used for medium and long-range. It’s going to be like trying to keep a GR7 jump-jet steady at twenty feet, but if anyone can do it…” her voice trailed off and she gave him a wink.
Then she looked directly at Brock. “Brock, you and Oz will need to build something that can help smooth the extraction process. We need a bridge we can flop out to move the hostages from the hole we’re going to blow in the side of the building. The bridge will need to fit the access port of the ship and then allow safe passage for eighty-something people, fast. Crash will probably appreciate some work on the stabilizers, too.”
She introduced Lato, Molly-style. “If you need gear, Detective Lato here will get you what you need, within the time constraints.” Lato nodded to the group, and raised a hand as if to say ‘Greetings.’
Molly continued. “Pieter, get hooked up to their systems and find everything you can about the building and materials held on-site. I wanna know why they are here, and what they’re planning. If they’re gathered in the control room, I’m wondering if there is something there that they want. Intel? Or maybe an underground vault. Or access to a nearby building. Buried treasure, talismans, hidden rooms, secret passageways…other stuff? Anything that might seem halfway plausible. Think big. Think out of the box.”
She looked at Paige. “Paige, sit with Rex,” she said, pointing in the direction of the negotiator Joel had been talking with. “He’s been interacting with the unsubs. Learn what you can. See if you can identify any of them, what they want, how they know each other. Ask open-ended questions, and keep them talking. Promise them nothing. If they make demands, I want you to remember one simple phrase: ‘How am I supposed to do that?’ Don’t use it in a derogatory way. Keep a polite, even tone, but keep turning it back on them. You’re not part of the rest of this mission. You’re the person controlling the hostage negotiation. Got it?”
Paige nodded and stood a little straighter, absorbing Molly’s words.
Molly turned to Detective Lato again. “How long until we can have that ship here?” she asked.
Lato looked up for a moment, thinking. “An hour, probably,” he told her.
She turned back to the group. “Ok, people. One hour and fifteen minutes to show time.”
Brock’s mouth dropped open.
“Let’s make this happen,” she concluded.
Chapter 12
Police encampment, Tiecoon Research Facility, Outskirts of Spire
“Fifteen minutes to hook this bridge up?” Brock harrumphed as he tightened another bolt on the ship that had just been delivered.
The air was warm and uncomfortable. He sat back for a moment on his haunches, observing a dust cloud heading their way. “Hope we can be in and out before that hits.” He nodded into the distance.
Crash and Joel looked up, then kept working. Crash was the one to point out reality to Brock. “To be fair,” he said plainly, “you did have this all ready to go well before the ship even arrived.” He finished tightening another bolt and stood up. “Just a few more bolts that need tightening, and we’re ready to rock.”
Brock reached for another nut and hurriedly started threading it on the protruding bolt. “Yeah, but that means the bridge and the stabilizers.”
Crash moved on to the next junction. “Stop your whining, man. Stabilizers are nearly done. Just need you to check they’re configured correctly.”
Brock, sweating under the pressure and the physical work of bolting the bridge onto the ship, was secretly relieved by Crash’s statement.
Joel, who had been working on the other end of the bridge, stood up and handed him the wrench back. “Ok, all of those pieces are connected. Seems secure enough to me.”
Brock took the wrench. “Thank you,” he said gratefully. “Appreciate it.” He smiled.
“All one team, man,” Joel told him, then headed off to finish getting his bulletproof gear on. He noticed Sean was already there, selecting his choice of weapons from the police candy store that had appeared a few moments before.
Crash pressed a test button on the mounting he’d been working on. “Ok, stabilizers are online and adaptive programming seems to be integrated.”
Brock whistled through his teeth. “Small mercies!” he sang, relieved. He finished tightening the remaining bolt and stood up, stretching his back, then collected the tools from the bridge.
Molly appeared next to him. “Nearly set?” she asked.
Brock wiped sweat from his forehead. “Yup. Just about. There wasn’t time to make this bridge contractible, so Crash is going to have to fly with it dangling.”
Molly tried not to smile. “There’s a joke in there, but there isn’t time.”
Brock grinned. “Yeah, make it laterz.”
Molly nodded. “So it’s not going to break under its own weight, being unsupported and all?”
Brock shook his head, and shifted the tools into one hand. “No, I ran some cantilever calcs based on the Young’s modulus of the steel. It should be fine, as long as the ship doesn’t make any sudden movements. We want to lift from here, sashay across, and flop it down on the ledge wherever you’ve breached, then bring the hostages over.”
Molly suddenly looked concerned.
Brock noticed her reaction. “What is it?”
Molly slapped her palm to her forehead. “You’re going to need the entrance blown before you approach.”
She marched off before Brock could say anything. He watched her leave, trying to figure out what they’d missed.
Molly found Joel and Sean dicking around at the weapons store, tacking up.
Joel looked at her. “What’s wrong?”
Molly shook her head. “Bad news, guys. We’re going to have to alter things slightly.”
Sean’s face dropped, waiting for the bottom line.
Molly continued. “The bridge needs to go straight into the opening, which means we can’t be on the ship to blow the opening in the side of the wall. And the ship can’t maneuver fast.”
Sean was pointing his weapon at the sky. He let it drop a little. “I assume you have a suggestion?”
Molly nodded, as two Pods dropped in four feet away from them. “It’s going to be on you guys to get close, place some charges, get out of the way, blow the wall, and get yourselves in there. Then Crash will move the ship into position.”
“Oh,” Sean guffawed. “Is that all? I thought you were going to ask us to do something difficult!”
Joel looked at him. “Yeah, I mean, that’s just a pre-breakfast exercise in the Space Marines.”
Sean glanced at him, smirking. “Let’s make sure we get some charges to lay. Joel, you need some help to set them? Pin out, and Mr. Charge isn’t your friend anymore, remember, ol’ boy?”
Joel locked a magazine into his weapon with force. “Just make sure you get your heavy cyborg ass out of the way quick enough,” he told him. “Don’t want to be cleaning you out of the Pod when we get back.”
Molly started coughing, as if she were struggling to breathe.
“You ok?” Sean asked.
Molly waved her hand in front of her face, still coughing and covering her mouth with the other hand. “Sorry. Yeah. Just choking in the fog of testosterone.” She walked away, leaving Joel and Sean speechless.
Molly headed back to the temporary office space and stepped inside. Paige glanced at her from across the room. Molly gave her a thumbs-up and tilted her head. Paige nodded and returned the thumbs-up.
Molly sat down next to Pieter. “How we doing?”
Pieter shook his head, puzzled. “Still nothing, at least not as far as the official city schematics show. I’m trying to find original plans, just in case they were recently updated to remove something that needed to remain hidden. Other than that, I think we need to assume that their motivations lie elsewhere.
Molly nodded. “Ok. Lemme know if you find anything. We’re breaching in a few minutes. Whatever happens, make sure you bring all your data with you when we leave.”
Pieter nodded. “You got it, boss.”
She headed back outside. Crash and Brock were on the ship making last minute adjustments. She gave them a thumbs-up and they returned it. Heading over to the weapons unit, she grabbed a bulletproof vest and strapped it on.
Sean stepped over to her. “Want some help tightening that?” he asked.
Molly eyed him cautiously, but she did need some help. “Please. Just a bit tighter around the chest.”
He adjusted some of the straps for her, then tapped her on the back. “You’re good to go.”
She mumbled her thanks and busied herself packing weapons into the holsters she was already wearing. Double-barreled hand guns onto each thigh. A smaller one on the right ankle. One under the left breast… She rearranged herself a little, vaguely aware of the boys watching her.
Then she did something she’d never done before. She grabbed a wooden baton the length of a sword and stuck it down the back of her vest, under the belt that was keeping the holsters against the front of her body.
You never know, she thought to herself.
She noticed that the boys had found the charges. She took a handful and carefully placed them in her trousers’ leg pocket. “Might come in handy,” she muttered, and then turned to look at the building.
“Ok people, comms up,” she ordered, and Oz put them all onto the same channel through their holos.
She did a quick roll call to make sure everyone was live and ready, then handed off to Joel. “Joel, your op. Good luck.”
Joel took over command and started running down the instructions. The team responded with their respective roles, as perfectly coordinated as if they had done this a hundred times before.
Inside the work center, Pieter stopped researching and moved his work station closer to Paige in case she needed help fact-checking.
* * *
The first thing the police and passers-by saw were the two big marine guys. They jumped into the Pods that had materialized outside the temporary ops center. Weaponed up to the hilt, they moved agilely, bantering between them. Then, without warning, the Pods lifted and disappeared, reappearing next to the building.
Meanwhile, the girl they had been talking to boarded the bigger ship, which was already fired up, and they lifted into the air.
The Pods were out of sight for a few moments, then they reappeared about two hundred yards from the building. A moment later there was a bang, and an explosion took out part of the building. Panic set in as police scrambled to see what was happening. Shots were fired from within the building, and it sounded as if all hell was breaking loose.
Within a second the Pods were back at the building, then gone again. Then there was more gunfire and screaming.
Meanwhile, the ship with the strange adaptation had sidled over the road and was approaching the building carefully as it tried to maintain a constant height. Eventually it arrived at the hole in the wall and attached its bridge, then the girl jumped into the building to usher the hostages over the bridge into the ship.
Maya couldn’t be sure from her position just outside the police ribbon, but it looked like the girl was in fact Molly Bates, whom she had been researching ever since the Dewitt incident. “Looks like she doesn’t learn” She smiled to herself.
After a few minutes, the last of the hostages boarded under heavy gunfire and the ship pulled gently away. She couldn’t tell if the team was still in the building or not.
Maya watched in awe as the ship managed to move back across the road, and gently touch down. In moments the paramedics were boarding the ship and tending to the hostages.
A few more minutes passed, and the Pods reappeared at the fourth-floor hole in the wall. It looked like there were still three people in there. The shooting stopped, and she couldn’t see the three figures anymore.
Everything was quiet.
Then another few minutes passed and she saw the three people get into the two Pods and return to the police encampment.
A few seconds later, she caught the Pods heading into the sky again out of the corner of her eye.
* * *
Roll call done, Joel looked at Sean, whose expression was way too smug.
“Tell me again where you did your military training?” Joel asked as they jogged to the Pods.
Sean moved incredibly well for someone his size. “Not in your system,” he retorted.
Joel glanced back at him as they jogged. “Well, let’s just hope you can keep up. With all your cockiness, it would be embarrassing for you if I managed to tap more tangos than you.”
Sean smirked. “Yeah, that’s going to happen. In your dreams!”
Joel chuckled as they jumped into their respective Pods.
Seconds later Oz had them outside the fourth floor of the building. Through the big windows, they could clearly see the eighty-something hostages. The unsub was clearly identifiable, holding a weapon and walking around casually. The hostages were mostly sitting huddled on the ground.
Joel signaled to those who could see to get back from the window. Hushed whispers alerted the others to move away. Oggs, Estarians and a couple of humans eased their way back from the window, carefully avoiding drawing attention from the sole lame-ass guard, who hadn’t noticed anything yet.
Joel shuffled in his Pod. “Oz, can you position us to lay these charges better?” he asked.
“Yes,” Oz responded. “But you will have to open the door, which means you should be wearing a seatbelt.”
Joel grabbed the belt and wrapped it round his arm a few times so he’d be able to hang.
Sean’s voice came over the comm. “You realize seatbelts are for pussies?”
Joel retorted, “Let’s see who the pussy is when we do a tally, eh?”
Sean chucked again.
Molly coughed over the comm.
Joel ignored the cough, but focused on the mission again. “Ok, Oz, let’s get these doors open.”
Oz opened the Pods and moved them closer so the boys could lay their charges. Joel coordinated removing the pins.
“On my mark,” he told Sean. “Three, two, one, mark.”
Each extracted their pins, then Oz whipped them well out of the blast zone. Joel watched the explosion below, praying that none of the hostages had been hit. Out of the corner of his eye he could see that Crash had already lifted off and was moving in their direction.
Joel made a quick assessment. “Ok, Oz, just as soon as we’re blast-safe, drop us back in and then take these Pods out of here.”
Oz acknowledged the order. “You got it, Joel.”
A few seconds passed, and some of the smoke and debris cleared. Joel could hear a commotion inside the building now, and gunshots were being fired, hopefully not at the hostages.
Crash nearly had the ship at the window, and Oz slipped the two Pods down to allow Joel and Sean to exit.
Sean did a tuck-and-roll, landing in a squat, one knee bent, gun ready.
His eyes had been on the guard during his entry and he took him out before Joel’s boots had even hit the floor. There were shouts from the corridor, along with the requisite crying and screaming from the hostages.
Joel made an announcement:
“It’s ok. This is your rescue service. In just a few moments you will be able to make your way onto a ship that will be picking you up from your door, and taking you to Safety Island. Please keep your howling to a minimum, and remember to tip your driver.”
The hostages started gathering by the open wall. A few even chuckled and patted Joel on the back as he made his way to the door at the other side of the room. The open-plan room was large. At one time it might have been a lab.
Sean was already at the door, taking out the unsubs left, right and center.
“Looks like I’ve got the tally on this mission!” he yelled at Joel, who had now knelt at the door and started taking out bad guys as they appeared in the corridor.
“How many do you think there are total?” Joel asked.
“Think the estimate was fifteen. Pretty sure I’ve killed eight.” He shot another who rounded the corner. “Nine,” he corrected himself.
Joel looked around, assessing the bigger picture. “Ok, you’ve got this position. I’m going to help Molly get these hostages on board,” he decided.
He turned around and saw that the ship had docked and half the hostages were on board already. Molly was in the building, helping some who were having trouble walking.
Joel noticed movement from a second door they hadn’t seen before. It looked like it adjoined the lab, maybe a prep room or something.
He quickly stalked to the room and opened the door. Another three tangos tried to come through, but he took them out, in rapid succession. Stepping over the bodies, he made sure the rest of the room was clear. Satisfied, he turned around to see Molly face to face with a baddie who had shown up from ancestors knew where.
Sean had seen she was in trouble too. “Joel! Help Molly!” he shouted. He was pinned, picking off the guys who were still coming up the corridor.
Joel was across like a shot, but Molly had somehow managed to disarm the guy.
“Don’t you fucking dare, Joel Dunham!” she shouted at him between shots. “This fuckhead is mine!” She dropped the handgun she had been using and drew her wooden baton.
Joel stood by, looking horrified at her latest weapon.
Said fuckhead lunged at her again, and she sidestepped him. As she landed, she whipped her hips around and continued the motion with the stick in her hand, arms extended.
Schlap!
It made a satisfying sound as it connected with the side of his skull. Joel noticed that she had practically taken his head off. The guy fell forward and sideways, carrying the momentum of her baton. Before he lost enough height, she whipped her right leg up and slammed it down on the back of his head in an axe kick.
Joel guessed the guy was dead before his body hit the ground.
Sean turned and saw Molly standing over the bloody body, stick in hand.
She looked at it, wiped the blood off on the body’s jacket, and shoved it unceremoniously back into her vest. “I think I could get used to this,” she said, turning to see that the last of the hostages were on the ship. A group of civilians had been watching the operation in amazement.
“We good to pull away?” Crash asked.
“Go ahead,” Molly told him. “I’ll get a ride with these guys once we’ve cleaned up.”
She and Joel headed toward the corridor. “How about we go make sure there are no loose ends?” Joel suggested.
Molly smiled. “I think I’d like that.”
Sean had stopped firing, but remained vigilant.
“Count?” asked Joel.
“Twelve for sure.”
“That means three more left. Let’s head down.”
The team swept their way through the empty corridors and eventually found their loose ends. Two didn’t pose an immediate threat, and could have proven useful for information. Molly restrained them together, in sixty-nine position.
Sean chuckled when he saw what she’d done. “You are one mean lady,” he commented.
Molly winked, and strode past him. “Remember that, Sean Royale.”
The three headed back up to level four, where they hopped into the Pods and headed back across the road to the police camp.
* * *
BANG. BOOM.
Two charges.
Donald Scott screamed at the assembled group of mercenaries. “Get your asses up there and stop whatever is going down!”
Panic filled the room.
The mercenaries grabbed their guns and headed out of the room, moving as fast as they could in close quarters.
Donald could hear gunfire. And screaming. He hoped that he wasn’t going to lose too many of the hostages to bullets. Or his men, for that matter.
He waited, listening.
There was a roar, as if a starship had just pulled up outside the building. He went to the window to look, and saw the ship maneuvering to a hole in the side of the building.
He relaxed a little and tried to breathe. Ok, so the hostages were on their way out. The assault team wouldn’t be coming this way if they had what they came for.
He could hear footsteps reverberating through the corridors and stair wells. Quietly, gun drawn, he ventured out into the corridor to find out what was going on. No one had reported back to him yet. Which was…worrying.
The gunfire continued.
He tried to think. His men were trained ex-military. Ex-commandos. Ex-Space Marines. These were the guys who could take out any threat in minutes. And yet, something in his gut told him that they were the ones being taken out.
For the first time in a long time, he felt afraid. Not social fear. Not fear of losing people’s respect. But fear of dying. His heart was beating out of his chest, and he noticed it was hard to hold onto his pistol because the sweat on his hands was making it slippery.
He switched the gun in his other hand and wiped his palm on his trousers.
He tried their comm channel. “Report!” he demanded.
Nothing came.
Then he heard the sound of someone gasping and dying.
Shit! This army had taken them down. He was told this was going to be a small team of nobodies. Why did they send in an army then?
He scurried into one of the rooms off the main corridor and looked around for somewhere to hide.
He heard footsteps coming down the corridor. Maybe it would be one of his men, to tell him that the battle was over, and the assault team was decimated.
He doubted it though.
He was in an examination room with a screen in front of a couch, a cupboard and a sink. He dove between the couch and the cupboard, hiding from view.
He heard the door open, and steps came into the room. He could see boots across the floor. He tried to not breath, but the boots were onto him. They walked toward him, seeming to know exactly where he was already.
The curtain was pulled away suddenly, noisily exposing his cowering form. He looked up and saw…a woman?
She glanced down at him, a look of disgust on her face. Similar to the way his mother had always looked at him. She snarled, “Hello, dickwad,” then reached over and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, dragging him into the center of the room.
Without warning, she punched him on the side of his head, making him dizzy. He couldn’t use his arms or legs. He fell, landing spread-eagled on the floor.
He saw the boots leave, and the door swung closed behind her. His head throbbed, but he was alive! He had survived. Relief flooded through his entire body.
He heard shuffling and boots in the corridor, then the door opened again. The woman came back in dragging a body. One of his men, his Second-in-Command. His face was bloody, but he seemed to be alive. Just.
She pulled the two of them together, almost head to toe, but a little lower so that each of them had their crotch by the other’s mouth.
The woman spoke to him as she secured them together. “There is so much worse I should do with you two. You don’t deserve to live. But I’m leaving you alive so you can come clean to the police and help them bring justice to your employers. Also, I want you to live to experience the rotting shit of the life you have made for yourselves.”
The woman fastened the final restraint roughly. The last thing Donald saw was a boot coming at his head.
Chapter 13
Police encampment, Tiecoon Research Facility, Outskirts of Spire
Molly, Joel and Sean landed on the grassy patch and jumped out of the Pods. Molly ran toward the ship to check on the hostages.
“Any gunshot wounds?” she asked the nearest paramedic.
“Doesn’t look like it,” he answered. “Fokking miracle, if you ask me!”
Molly wandered around looking at all the people. Some were being given oxygen. Some had blankets for shock. But there wasn’t any blood. She saw Joel talking to someone.
Then he moved to another and seemed to ask a question.
He stood among them and held his hand up. “Listen up, people. I need you to pay attention for a moment. This is vitally important.”
The activity and noise stopped, everyone spontaneously obeying the Space Marine with the muscles…and the guns still strapped to him.
Joel spoke so they could all hear. “You were fed, right? What did they give you?”
One man answered “Pizza.”
“And donuts,” someone else answered.
Joel’s worried facial expression deepened. “Had anyone been experiencing dancing lights in their eyes? Shortness of breath?”
A few hands went up.
He walked over to one person who had raised their hand.
Joel crouched to the sitting male Estarian’s eye level. “Tell me your name, date of birth and who the current prime minster is,” he told him gently.
The man nodded, and swallowed. “My name is Johnny Locklen. My date of birth…is…” The guy shook his head, as if he didn’t have access to the information.
Joel looked at Molly, and beckoned a couple of the paramedics over. He spoke quietly but quickly. “His speech is slurred. I think these people have been poisoned with Assergen. We need to get the antidote administered fast, or we’re going to start losing people.”
Molly looked at him, and then the paramedics. “Do you have the antidote here?”
The paramedic shrugged.
Joel’s hands went to his head. He gripped it, trying to think.
“Oz?” he said out loud. “We need to know the active components in the antidote to Assergen. I heard about it in Marine advanced training. It’s a familiar plant. I just can’t remember what it was called.”
Molly watched him. “How come you know this?”
Joel shrugged. “It’s an easy poison to access. Plus, it has a faint odor. A sugary kinda smell to it. I recognized it from an op I was on once, where they took out a school with it.”
Molly looked horrified.
Oz spoke into their ear implants. “Got it. It’s a chemical found in the bulbous roots of the palm bushes. It’s found on the Inner System planets quite readily. I’m sure if you step outside you’ll see some.”
Joel was out of the ship like a shot. He looked around and saw that the right trees were just a little farther back from the road. He started running toward them.
He spoke to Oz as he ran. “Oz, have you any way to do a chemical analysis?”
Not here. Not right now.
Joel had pulled up some of the bushy roots around the verge. Sean helped him. Joel tore open one of the roots, and exposed the fleshy part. He lifted it to his nose and smelled it.
“I think this is it. Help me gather some.” Sean and Molly tore up some more, then followed Joel back to the ship.
Within ten minutes, paramedics and police were working together to gather enough of the root to administer to the hostages who had eaten the food the unsubs had given them.
Police encampment, Tiecoon Research Facility, Outskirts of Spire
Within an hour, the hostages had all been moved to the hospital or sent home after thorough examinations.
The fire companies were wrapping up, and the police were finishing their clean-up, having gathered statements and contact details.
Molly stood in the clearing on the police side of the tape, out of the way of the bustling officers. “Any idea who the unsubs were?” she asked Lato. “I left a few of them alive for you.”
He looked at her. “Yes, the officers who found the pair you had restrained were very amused” he told her, trying to remain professional and not smile at her antics. “In fact, a couple of them want to meet you.”
Molly rolled her eyes. “Did they tell you anything?” she asked.
Lato shook his head. “No, those who are conscious aren’t telling us anything. It looks like they were guns for hire. No rhetoric. No slogans in their speech. Nothing.”
Molly frowned. “So they were paid hostage-takers?”
Lato took a swig of his mocha, then answered her. “Seems like,” he muttered, swallowing.
She looked at the building and the hole blown through its wall. “That’ll be why my team aren’t able to find any information or motives,” she mulled.
Lato shrugged. “Well, maybe the fact that they were paid to take hostages and kill them all with poison is the lead.”
Molly screwed her face up briefly. “Why use poison? It’s slow working—”
She stopped mid-sentence.
Oz, what if the whole point of this was that the hostages would be rescued and still die. What would be the implications of that?
Well, we wouldn't get our bonus.
What else?
It would be unusual enough to draw media attention.
And we’d look like idiots.
Molly rubbed her chin. Can we find out how the cases within Framan are allocated? Do a bit of digging. See if they are using an algorithm to assign jobs. See if we’re being manually allocated these deliberately.
Ok. On it.
Molly had another thought. “Maybe their identities will bring up something useful,” she suggested to Lato.
The detective turned and looked at her. “Yes,” he said slowly, swilling the remaining mocha in his paper cup. “Yes, they might,” he said thoughtfully. He glanced at her. “Want me to loop you in on anything that we find?”
Molly smiled brightly. “That would be super helpful. I’m off-world most of the time. Perhaps I can give you a secure server to send stuff to?”
Lato looked nonplussed. “Sure,” he agreed.
She bumped her server address from her holo to his.
“Got it,” he told her, checking the notification on his device.
Paige wandered over, her kit now packed and ready to go. Brock, Pieter and Crash were also heading over to the clearing near the police tape.
Paige smiled. “Everything ok?”
Molly narrowed her eyes “I’m not sure. This is all feeling a little…odd.”
Paige jumped a little, having a new thought. “Ooh! Like how the antidote just happened to be there at the road side!”
Molly lifted her head a little, as she digested the information. “Yeah. That too, come to think of it.”
Her mind racing, Paige continued, “We didn’t find anything about why they might have taken the hostages?”
Molly bit her lower lip and jerked her thumb toward Lato. He was still standing next to her, taking a moment to watch all the activity. “Lato thinks they were hired too. I’m inclined to agree.”
Joel finished on his holo call and came over to join them. “Ok, we’re good to go with Framan,” he said, as he approached.
Molly gave him a thumbs-up as he walked past to join Brock, Crash and Pieter.
Lato caught him on his way past, and held out his hand to thank him. “Look, Joel, what you did out there. Incredible. You saved all those people with your quick thinking,” Lato was still shaking his hand, and smiling through the haze of tiredness that was hitting him. “I’m grateful,” he said.
Joel looked down, then responded gruffly, “You’re welcome. I mean, it was a team effort, and we were just doing our job.”
Lato held his cup by his side. “Yes, and if you hadn’t spotted those symptoms—those incredibly subtle symptoms—all those people would have died.”
Joel scratched his head, looking a little embarrassed by the attention. “Yeah, well. Thanks, man,” he conceded.
Lato turned to the rest of the gang and gave his thanks. “If you ever need help with anything around here, just give me a shout. You’re good people, and you run a tight ship,” he finished, nodding to Molly and shaking her hand.
Molly smiled. “Thank you, Detective.” She turned to the team as Lato wandered off. He threw the dregs of his mocha on the sandy grass and scrunched up the cup for the trash.
“Ok, folks,” Molly announced. “Time to get out of here.”
The team waved their good byes to Detective Lato, and hopped into their Pods.
Lato watched the doors close, not knowing how to start understanding the tech this group had. Molly gave him a little wink through the window, and then the Pods shot straight up into the sky and disappeared.
After the Pods were out of sight, he returned his eyes to ground level, where he noticed a young Estarian over by the police tape. She seemed to be loitering with her holo out.
He nodded at her and she smiled.
Reporter, he thought, and turned around to head back to the temporary office.
Maya Johnstone hit Save on her audio recording, and closed her notes. She would be making another interesting post to Whistleblown tonight.
The Toroid Desert Club, Outskirts of Spire
“I mean, Mac, what the fokk?”
Jessica was pissed.
Seriously pissed.
Her normally glowing complexion had turned a muddy red under her blue skin. She looked dark and foreboding as a result. And then there was the glare. “This retreat was meant to be relaxing. A celebration of moving things to the next level. And now it’s just one big clusterfuck!”
Her voice was elevated. Andus looked at the door, wondering if he needed to reel her in a little. It was a secure location, but you could never be sure of the staff.
She glared across the table at Kerr. “You are the one who has been giving me shit for not being able to pull off a simple op, and yet you have one task—one thing to accomplish—and you’re not able to do it. At least I got the funding bill turned around.”
Mac sank a little in his chair, waiting for the conversation to end. Jessica showed no signs of letting up, and Andus seemed to be letting her blow off steam.
He should probably do the same.
But then, there were a lot of times he should have just kept his mouth shut. He knew this was one of those times, but it just wasn’t his style.
“Look, lady,” he began firmly. “It turns out that the common palm bush has the antidote in its roots. How the hell was I supposed to know that?”
He paused for effect, and she jumped straight in again. “And how did they even know that? You assured us that it was a killer! One hundred percent certainty, you said. Lots of experience, you said.”
Mac grimaced. “It is a killer. I used it all the time in the Outer Systems.”
Jessica was practically spitting. “And you never figured out that there was a common antidote?”
Mac held out his hands, exasperated by the interrogation. “No!” he protested. “We killed thousands with it, every time we needed something that wasn’t going to be traceable. They’d put it down as dysentery or something.”
Jessica slumped back into her chair. “Well, great job, Mac,” she spat sarcastically. “They’ve turned this around, and our plan has backfired. Again.”
“Not my fault,” he said simply.
Jessica scowled across the table, Andus’ and Garet’s presence completely forgotten. “Dunno who else suggested that rookie maneuver.”
“Who are you calling a rookie, Princess?” Mac spat back.
Garet leaned forward, reaching out to place one finger pointedly on the table to focus everyone’s attention. All eyes turned on him. “Might I make a suggestion?” he asked, glancing over at Andus.
Andus waved his hand, granting him the stage.
Garet calmly and confidently continued, “I think it’s time to use a plan that doesn’t involve drugs or toxins. Let’s just go for straightforward sleight-of-hand.”
Jessica leaned in, her argument with Mac dissipating in curiosity. “Tell us more…” she said cautiously.
Chapter 14
Gaitune-67, Safe House, Kitchen
The team sat around the safe house’s kitchen table eating fresh takeout pizza. A hush fell over the group as mouths were filled with soft doughy yumminess after the day’s activities.
“Those Pods are quite something, eh?” Pieter mused through a mouthful of cheesy goodness. “Back in time for dinner!”
Paige’s eyes lit up as she swallowed a mouthful of ham and pineapple. “Yeah, they’re incredible. I mean, how can they even go that fast?”
Molly realized Paige had been looking at her when she asked the question, and was expecting an answer. Having just bitten into a slice of hot pizza herself, it couldn’t have been worse timing. Plus, Molly didn’t have the answer…yet. She struggled to work her way free of the lip-burning mozzarella long enough to shrug her shoulders.
Thankfully the conversation moved on, leaving her to enjoy the rest of the mouthful.
Brock was her savior on this occasion. “Well, they certainly prevented Crash from getting plastered with another fokking Spaceport ticket!” he jibed.
Crash chuckled silently, his slight shrug more than his face giving away that he found Brock’s statement humorous. “Still have to get the last one paid,” he admitted, reaching for another slice.
He stopped himself mid-way. “Oh, shit. That one doesn’t have any meat on it.” He picked up the box, and handed it down the table. “Get that poor excuse for food out of the way. That’s it, Paige, move it down there.” He tried to hand it off to Paige. The box was still hot.
Paige had her hands and mouth full of pizza, so Joel leaned over and took the box from him, placing it near Molly.
Molly, deadpan, mumbled into the pregnant pause, “Heathens.”
The group collapsed in laughter.
As the mirth subsided, the chewing and chomping resumed. Sean was the next one to pipe up, “Still damn hot” as he nearly burned his chin on some stray cheese.
Paige looked at him, and cocked her head. “Thought things like that didn’t bother your nanocyte-enhanced body tissue?” she teased.
Everyone stopped and looked at either Paige or Sean.
Sean froze.
Paige looked around. “What? Why you all staring?”
No one answered.
She flushed. “You didn’t know that he was nano-enhanced?”
Still silence.
Sean put his pizza down. “Girl, you weren’t meant to tell anyone.”
Paige looked worried. “Sorry. I didn’t know it was a secret. I mean…you need to tell me something is a secret if you want me to not mention it!” Paige looked mortified.
Sean held her gaze and raised one eyebrow. “Evidently,” he concluded.
Joel grinned. “In her defense, she has a point,” he agreed, taking another bite of pizza.
Sean, a little embarrassed, sighed. “Well, I suppose now is a good a time as any to get it out in the open.”
Molly continued listening and chewing quietly, taking it all in. Joel watched her for any kind of reaction, but got nothing.
Sean picked up a napkin and wiped his mouth. This was complex enough without folks being distracted by him having cheese and tomato on his face. “So, yes, the truth is, I have had certain enhancements. One of them being the nanocytes.”
Brock, unable to contain himself, interrupted. “Nanocytes. You mean, actual little bots that go into your blood and alter your fricking DNA?”
Sean nodded, his face serious. “Yes. As a result, I don’t age. Aaaaaand I’m much older than I look.”
Paige’s eyes had widened, and cheese slid off the pizza she had been about to bite into. “How old?” she asked.
Sean smiled. “That, young lady, is not something I’m willing to share at this time. But it was done so that I could continue to go on missions and the Etheric Empire would retain the skills and knowledge of a trusted few.”
Joel was watching Sean carefully now, waiting.
Sean noticed his gaze. “Joel knows some of the rest of it. I’ve also got some cyborg components to link me to various systems, and suchlike.”
Joel nodded. “Yep, and the way you move? Tech-enhanced for sure. No way a real human can move like that.”
Sean grinned. “You’re just pissed I tapped more tangos than you today.”
Joel grinned back. “Today, maybe. Tomorrow? Let’s see.”
Pieter had been sitting quietly. “I want to know more about this Etheric Empire everyone keeps talking about. I mean, I thought it was just a place, like Ogg or Uptarlung.”
Sean shook his head. “No. I mean, it is… It’s an empire that spreads across this galaxy and the next. But it’s far more than just a place. You’ll see. Once you guys pass the test, there will be so much more for you to discover, especially once you’re out there.”
Pieter’s eyes lit up. “You mean, out in the Etheric Empire?”
Sean nodded. “Probably. At least at some point.”
Neechie had shown up and was rubbing his face against Sean’s leg. Paige noticed his arrival and ducked under the table to see. “Looks like you’ve been accepted into the family!” she giggled.
Sean bent down and picked Neechie up. “Seems he likes it when people come clean about their secrets,” he joked.
Molly frowned a little, mentally adding the idle comment as a data point in her understanding of the sphinx. And Sean Royale.
Gaitune-67, Secret Basement Base, Training Facility
Paige pounded away at the bag, but despite her efforts she was hardly making a thwack at all.
Molly yelled over the motivational tunes she had pumping. “Keep your wrists straight or you’ll hurt yourself!”
Paige punched the heavy bag a couple more times, then let her arms go limp. She stepped away from the bag, sweating, a pained expression on her face.
Molly waved the music down and it responded, allowing them to talk using normal voices.
Paige whimpered. “I don’t get it. Why can’t I just stay back out of the danger and let the GI Joels and Seans do the saving?”
Molly frowned. “First rule of damsel school. No one’s fucking coming.”
Paige whimpered. “But I like being a damsel.”
She heard movement behind her and turned around. Joel was padding across the mat, having left his shoes at the door.
Joel had a holoscreen open, but didn’t look to be in a hurry. “You really believe that?” he asked Molly.
Paige looked at him helplessly.
Molly responded. “Yep,” she said flatly. “Relying on someone else to be there for you doesn’t tend to work out too well.”
Molly looked down at his holo. “What’ve you got?”
Joel let it go. “Next mission,” he grinned.
Paige had sat down on a bench and was drinking water. When she heard they had another mission already, she slid dramatically down onto the mat and collapsed in a spread-eagle position. “I can’t. I’m dead. Good-bye, Cruel World. You guys go on without me.”
Molly looked at her and shook her head, smiling. She spun back around to Joel again. “So this one should make up our target, eh?” Her tone was hopeful.
Joel grinned. “Sure will. It’s a hundred thousand credits, and an additional three hundred and fifty thousand if the boy lives.”
Molly tilted her head. “If the boy lives?”
Joel wrinkled one side of his face. “Right,” he said, looking down at the holoscreen, and showing her. “It’s a security escort detail. We need to safely transport an organ from a little town in the nether reaches of Estaria, a place called Dvergasteinn, to Spire. Plenty could go wrong on a trip like that, and the organ has very rigorous conditions. It needs to be transported at a specific temperature, shielded from all forms of radiation, and escorted by a bunch of Estarian priests. Plus, it’s still experimental medicine for Estarians.”
Molly looked up at him and took a small step back. “So we can’t use the Pods?”
Joel shook his head. “Not for the transport. Plus there is an entourage and equipment in the convoy. They have that piece all worked out.”
Molly thought for a moment.
She began unbandaging her hands. Paige noticed, taking it as sign that anti-damsel training was finally over. “That’s a long trip,” Molly noted. “How many hours are we thinking?”
Joel thought for a moment. “I’m guessing it’s about twelve hours, if we don’t stop. Fourteen with breaks.”
Molly didn’t look enthused. “And how many in the convoy?”
Joel flicked through a few screens. “Doesn’t say exactly, but there are six doctors and then med techs and all sorts of attendants and relatives.”
Molly shook her head. “Do we know who the boy is?”
Joel closed his holo. “Nope. And they won’t tell us. Need-to-know, and we apparently don’t need to know.”
Molly sucked on her bottom lip, looking pensive. She sighed. “Seems like a lot could go wrong. Lots of moving parts. And then if the boy lives or dies, it’s still out of our hands once we get the convoy there in one piece.”
Joel perched on a nearby bench used for weights. He took a deep breath. “Yeah. It’s a gamble, that’s for sure.”
Molly sat down on the bench Paige had left and faced Joel. Paige’s leg was still draped over the bench, and Molly moved it off, causing more dramatic harrumphs and death throes from Paige on the floor, plus the delayed thud of her foot hitting the mat.
“Logically it’s not a good call. The odds are stacked against us, and we’ve already got most of the money banked for the General’s test. If we take this and fail, we’re out of pocket for whatever resources we use and potentially tired, or we would possibly have missed the next opportunity that might be more of a fit.”
I concur with your logic.
“Oz agrees with me,” she added.
But we’ve just received a communication on that case. You’ll probably want to review it before making a decision.
What is it?
A letter from the parents to the medical board about their son. And an image.
Ok, put it up on the holo.
Molly looked down and opened her holo. “Looks like Framan sent us some more details,” she told Joel.
Joel got up to look at the holo screen over her shoulder.
Oz pulled up the image. It was of a little Estarian boy, maybe six years old. He was wired up to machines, presumably trying to keep him alive.
Molly went quiet, trying to integrate this into her decision-making equation. Her brain just went foggy. She had the details, but she didn’t know how to put it all together to make a choice.
Joel sighed and sat down on the bench next to her. Paige raised herself off the mat and peered over Molly’s arm at the picture.
A moment later Paige was on her feet, stripping her bag gloves and wraps from her hands, her demeanor now serious and commanding. “Well, I think that decides it. I’m hitting the showers, and I’ll let the others know we’ve got a job.”
Molly watched her leave, envying how easy it was for Paige to make a decision like this. She looked across at Joel. “So I guess that decides it?” she asked, looking for confirmation.
Joel nodded. “It’s the right thing to do,” he said, quietly but firmly. “Every life matters.”
Molly nodded, glad of her team’s guidance. She didn’t dare admit that she actually didn’t know what the right call was in this instance, but she was glad they were going to try and save the little boy.
Joel got up from the bench. “I’ll have a word with the guys, see what equipment we might need and how soon we can be ready.”
Molly nodded. “Thank you. And then Oz can let everyone know the specifics. Let’s assume we’ll use the Pods to get to the convoy, and then work from there.”
Joel hesitated a moment, then decided he needed to say it. “You know, what you told Paige, that nobody’s coming…”
Molly nodded. “Yeah?”
Joel looked serious. “It’s not true,” he told her. “I need you to know that I’ll always come for you.”
Molly smiled. “Thanks.”
Joel shook his head. “No. You’re not hearing me. Or you’re not believing that it’s true, but I need you to understand this. No matter what happens, or how bad it gets, or what the odds are. I’m. Always. Coming.”
His eyes were intense.
Molly felt something in her solar plexus leap. She wasn’t used to this kind of communication. Or this kind of outright commitment. She felt the brain fog set in again.
He didn’t move closer to her. He wasn’t trying to make a move. So why was he talking like this? Why would he make this kind of promise?
Her face was blank. She didn’t know how to respond, but her insides were a hive of activity. Eventually she figured out that she could nod, and simply said, “Ok.”
Joel seemed to accept her response, and didn’t push further. He just copied her “Ok”, then smiled and padded back out of the room.
Molly’s brain was awash in thoughts. Showers, she managed to compute. Hit the showers, then think about the mission.
Gaitune-67, Safe House, Molly’s Conference Room
Molly sat in the conference room, legs underneath her body, swiveling in her chair. In her hand, she had a mocha-flavored post-workout protein shake that Paige had managed to procure on their latest supply shipment from some inter-system delivery service called “The Zonk.”
Ok, Oz, we need to get our asses in gear on this one. Normally prep for a protection detail like this would take weeks. We’ve got just over an hour.
No fear. You have the asteroid’s most intelligent entity on the case.
Molly thought about mentioning ADAM, but then decided against it. In fact, she deliberately tried to shield that thought from Oz.
Tell me more about the religious component of this transfer.
Yes, the notes are vague, but I’ve accumulated some research. It seems the Estarians have certain beliefs about a person’s being, or “essence,” as they sometime refer to it. It’s embedded in their tissue. This means that when a medical procedure like a transplant is to occur, the organ needs to be cleansed before it can be inserted into the other body.
Ok, so then we get it to the hospital and their voodoo masters can do their thing.
Not so simple. When the organ is out of the body, it is potentially vulnerable to…other influences. That’s why you have at least two priests on any given transportation detail to provide energetic protection to the organ as it is moved.
Wouldn’t it have been easier to transport the donor?
Negative. He has already passed away, and they needed to make the harvest.
Molly sighed. She hadn’t done much in the way of Estarian biology. Heck she didn’t even know what the organ they kept referring to was. This task was getting geometrically more complex by the hour.
Ok. Let’s do a complete run down on every element involved. Background checks on all personnel, including financials, references. That includes the people in the hospitals as well as those on the convoy. Let’s look into the parents of the patient who is receiving the organ. I don’t want any surprises there. Then let’s check into all the companies involved, right down to the vehicle rental services used.
She took a slurp of her protein shake, then set it down before continuing.
Also, I need to know more about the procedure: what it entails, and why there are all these constraints about exposure to radiation and so on. I’m not putting it past them to miss some detail, and those details are what could potentially save this boy’s life.
You got it. Sending you results of the first background checks now.
Molly took another sip of the shake and settled in. This was going to produce a lot of information to sift through and digest, and they didn’t have much time.
* * *
Fifty minutes later, Molly stretched her legs, trying to get the blood to return to them.
Oz, you noted something about the financial records of this technician at the transplant facility… Clarence Agel? She doubled back to another screen.
Yes.
Something feels…hinky. What are the details?
He’s in a lot of debt, but there were some large deposits made to his mother’s bank account last week.
Clever. No one would have thought to check her bank account.
Except I did, when I saw his situation. He also stopped working overtime in the last two weeks.
Good catch. So it’s tenuous, but it might be something. Ok, let’s hone in on him and make sure he’s legit. We need to know anything that could be a clue as to someone trying to foil this transfer.
Molly stood up and stretched, then continued working through the other files Oz had fed to her device. A few moments later Oz interrupted her.
Found something else.
Tell me.
Well, this same Mr. Agel has requisitioned two enviro-insulated transport cases.
Ok…
He only needs one.
No other transplants going on?
Not from this facility.
Ok. We’ve got him.
Now let’s find out what’s actually going on. Something tells me that we’re compromised before we even take possession of the organ.
Chapter 15
Gaitune-67, Secret Basement Base, Hanger Deck
The team had gathered on the hangar deck in the base once again. Molly, having confirmed with ADAM that they were authorized to use the Pods for getting to the surface for this mission, pounded down the metal stairs to join the others.
She arrived just in time to see Crash grab something off one of the Pods. Everyone was laughing, but Sean and Pieter in particular were hysterical. They fist-bumped. Crash did not look amused.
She paused next to Paige, who was giggling and struggling to breathe. “What did I miss?” she asked her.
Paige turned to her, hand over her mouth. “Someone,” she looked at Sean and Pieter, “put a fake Spaceport ticket on Crash’s Pod.”
Molly sniggered, and covered her own mouth. “Those guys…” she said, shaking her head and then quickly composing herself.
Molly walked out to address the group. She stood in front of the Pods again, facing her team. “Ok, folks. Play time is over. Let’s focus.”
The hangar deck fell silent. “You’ve had the mission briefing. Is everyone clear on their roles?”
Everyone nodded.
She glanced around the team. “Right. Be aware of needing to be at different locations when you choose your Pod-mate. Crash, Sean and myself will be going after the real package, so we’ll take two Pods between us.”
She rested her thumbs on her lower hips and stood firmly planted, her feet shoulder-width apart. Mentally, she was battle-ready. “Joel, Paige, Pieter and Brock, you’re guarding the convoy, so you’ll be heading out to the official rendezvous point.”
She looked at the troops, who were already geared up. “Are there any questions?” she asked.
Joel was standing with the troops this time. It seemed that he took on the group mentality when he wasn’t being forced into a leadership role. He raised his hand. “Yeah, why does Sean get to go on the A-team?”
Molly shook her head at him, resisting the urge to club him around the shoulders. “Because I need my Second-in-Command keeping up appearances,” she answered as diplomatically as she could
She wondered briefly if he was just testing her.
Sean grinned. “Worried she likes me more than you?” he asked, glancing at Joel and then back at Molly as he needled them for a reaction.
Joel rose to the banter. “No, ass-wit. I’m worried I’m going to take out all the bad guys and you’re going to feel less of a man.” He paused, as the troops chuckled. “No wait—I guess you must be used to that with all the metal and implants you’re carrying on board.”
Sean kept his expression relatively blank, clearly working against the urge to laugh. “Anyone ever told you that you give shit like a girl?”
Joel cocked his head, and pretended to be thoughtful in his retort. “No. No, I think that’s something unique to you, cyborg.”
Molly watched the two jousting marines for a moment before interjecting. “Gentlemen, please. If you can’t keep your testosterone levels under control I’ll be forced to remove your balls.”
The team chuckled again.
Molly clapped her hands a few times. “All right folks, let’s get out there. We’ve got a life to save, and some rassgats (trans: assholes) to bring down.”
The team took that as their cue to scramble into their Pods. Crash folded up his ersatz Spaceport ticket and shoved it in his pocket.
Sean strode over to the Pod, getting in next to Molly and flipping his middle finger at Joel as he sat down. “See you on the flip side, buddy!” he grinned.
Molly glared at him, then huffed as she pulled her seat harness around her.
Seconds later the Pod closed and they lifted into the air, heading toward the slowly opening hangar doors before whipping into space again. Once again, there were oooohs and ahhhs as Oz maneuvered the Pods to be able to see Gaitune before whizzing them off to the stars and back toward Estaria.
Convoy Rendezvous Point, Edgewater Hospital Parking Lot
The Pods touched down a few yards from the hospital where the transfer was to begin.
Joel was the first one out of the Pods. “Ok, come meet the people and then you three need to get back in the Pods. Slightest hint of trouble, Oz has instructions to get you out of here.”
Paige nodded. Brock hopped out of his Pod, adjusting his atmosuit and joined Paige and Joel. Pieter had ridden in a separate Pod and was just clambering out as Joel finished talking. Brock filled him in.
As they approached the group of people gathering at the convoy, Paige started fidgeting. “These suits Molly wears are damn uncomfortable. How does she even walk with this bloody stick in her vest?”
Joel glanced sideways at her as they marched over to the two trucks. “I dunno. No idea why she even picked that stick up in the first place.” He made a mental note to ask her about that at some point when he got the chance.
Paige rolled her shoulders, trying to get comfortable. “I dunno how effective this is going to be. I mean, I have blue frickin’ skin. Someone is going to notice that.”
Joel shook his head. “Worry not. We just want to give the impression that the whole team is here. Ok, best behavior now.”
They arrived within earshot of the convoy group. Joel counted five doctors, two Estarian priests and two civilians. One of those must be the boy’s father, he thought.
The group turned as one to look at them as they approached.
“Dr. Ravers?” Joel asked.
An Estarian doctor stepped forward. “That’s me. I’m in charge of this transfer.” He held out his hand for Joel to shake.
“Greetings of the day upon you,” he told the doctor. “This is my team: Paige Montgomery, Brock Lysta, and that’s Pieter Alexander.”
The doctor moved to shake their hands too.
Joel explained the plan. “They will be providing air support,” he motioned at the Pods they had just descended in. “I thought I’d be of most use riding with the package, if you’re in agreement.”
The doctor looked perplexed. His hands came up in a defensive gesture. “Ah, no. That won’t be necessary.” He glanced in the direction of the priests. “How about you ride in the truck behind with the rest of us.” He took Joel by the arm and started leading him away, his voice now hushed. “The priests are sensitive about too many people being in proximity to the organ for so long. You, er, understand, of course?”
Joel nodded, hiding his natural suspicion. “Sure,” he agreed. “It will give me a better view of potential incoming anyway.” He looked around. “So, is the organ already in the truck?” he asked.
Dr. Ravers shook his head. “Not yet. The priests will accompany two of the doctors to fetch it now that you’re here.”
Joel gestured to the team, then dropped his hands flat against his combat pants, checking his gear subconsciously. “Ok. Well, we’re here and ready to leave as soon as you are.”
The doctor, looking very serious, scuttled away and spoke to the group, and after faffing about a little, scuttled back. “Ok. They’re going to get it now.”
Joel noticed there was something off about the doctor. “Tell me,” he said, “is there anything you’re concerned about that I might not already know?”
The doctor looked furtively around, then led Joel again, a little further away from his group. “Look,” he said anxiously, “this is a high-profile patient. And the procedure is very…delicate. There is a lot of pressure on this project.”
He was wringing his hands as he spoke. Joel tried to remain casual. “So, is there anyone that you think might want to stop this transfer from happening then?”
The doctor looked shocked at the suggestion. He shook his head vigorously. “No. No. Absolutely not.” Then he paused, as if struck by another thought. “Although, these organs are incredibly rare, and therefore valuable…” his voice trailed off, as his thought did. “New procedure,” he added. He shook his head, as if he were talking himself out of being paranoid.
Joel urged him to continue. “You’re thinking black market?” he asked.
The doctor shook his head. “Just my overactive imagination. I’m sure this will go smoothly. After all, we’ve kept this whole operation very hush-hush. Not even the hospital board knows it’s going ahead.”
Joel was suspicious. Over time he had learned to trust people’s gut instincts more than they trusted themselves.
Dr. Ravers made his excuses and left to organize the final details. Joel observed him carefully, studying his interactions with the others, open to clues.
Within twenty minutes the convoy was pulling out of the parking lot, with Paige, Brock, and Pieter hovering over it on all sides. From their Pods, they continually scanned the surroundings for any activity.
Paige looked over and could see Brock through his Pod window. His expression showed concentration and concern.
“You ok?” she asked over the internal comm channel.
“What, me?” he jested. Then his voice changed, becoming more serious. “Yeah, I’m just hoping there isn’t any real danger. I’m a shit shot,” he said, waving the blaster he’d been issued back at the hangar.
Paige chuckled. “Heck, me too.”
Pieter interjected. “Me three.”
Joel could hear everything. Stuck in the second truck with the kid’s father, uncle and a bunch of other doctors, he was limited in what he could say. He typed a holo message to them all instead.
IT’S OK. I’VE GOT THIS. MIGHT JUST NEED YOU TO LAY DOWN COVER IF ANYTHING HAPPENS, BUT OZ WILL KEEP YOU OUT OF DANGER UP THERE. TRAINING RESUMES IN EARNEST WHEN WE GET BACK THOUGH. YOU KIDS ARE GOING TO LEARN THIS! ;)
He hit send. Then he spoke into the comm to them. “Just keep your eyes peeled from the positions we talked about.”
He knew they had received the message, because Brock’s voice came over the intercom again. “Lay down cover? That’s my kinda shootin’!”
Joel smiled. Brock had been doing well in combat training. He still didn’t know if he could perform in a real scenario, but despite his joking he certainly had the right attitude, and he would improve over time.
Paige’s voice came over the intercom again. She was talking with Brock, knowing that Joel was mostly out of the conversation. “So where do we think the actual organ has gone?” she asked. “Someone else who needs it?” Joel could hear the slight emotional tension in her voice as she considered the possible problem.
Brock answered, as Oz maneuvered his Pod to keep an eye on everything around them. “I think Joel said something about the black market being a possibility.”
Paige was still tense. “So that’s bad people making money out of it, but still someone dying who might need it.”
Brock nodded, still focused on his surveillance task. “Yeah. It still sucks, either way.”
Paige sighed. “I can’t imagine what the boy’s parents are going through.”
She was silent for a little while after that.
Ascender-Grace Hospital, Spire
The Estarian boy lay in his hospital bed, his mother anxiously watching over him. The machines bipped and beeped in rhythm, again and again. Outside the room the clunk and shuffling of normal hospital activities continued.
Inside the room, time stood still.
Two members of the higher clergy waited in the observation room, their eyes glued to the child and his mother.
“There is no doubt the boy brings a message, Your Highness. The field is strong around him.” Brother Orcha glanced briefly at the High Priestess before returning his gaze to the boy.
The High Priestess nodded. “Yes, I was sure before we even arrived in the building. He certainly has something he needs to share with us.” She maintained her posture, even in the face of his possible fate. “His mother still doesn’t know?”
“She knows,” replied Orcha. “She just doesn’t fully accept, plus this is a little distracting. Understandably.”
The High Priestess shook her head briefly. “If that organ isn’t delivered in time, it will no longer make any difference.”
Orcha hesitated. He started to say something a couple of times.
“You want to ask if I believe?” the high priestess asked of him.
Orcha nodded. “Yes, Your Highness.”
She took a deep breath before answering. “I believe it is entirely possible. The dates match up with the ancient calendar. Will he play a part in saving the System? Who knows?” She sighed again, and muttered softly. “But I don’t even know at this point if this System wants saving.”
The priest’s eyes betrayed his crisis. “But if it’s true,” he persisted, “if he could walk between worlds and be the messenger, but he dies? What then?” Orcha’s voice trailed off.
The High Priestess had a sadness in her eyes. “Then our faith will be truly tested. It’s in our ancestors’ hands now.”
Chapter 16
Edgewater Hospital, Dvergasteinn, Operating Theatre #2
Clarence Agel carefully attached electrodes to the organ to keep it stimulated for the transfer. Then he carefully packed it into the temperature controlled, radiation shielded box. As an organ transplant technician, he had been doing this for the body parts of the different races for years. There was something about being intimately familiar with pieces of people. Pieces that would then go into their bodies, never seen by the individual, but which would keep them alive for the rest of their lives.
It was a position of privilege, and a small part of him felt superior for having this intimate knowledge of so many people.
With that arrogance keeping the guilt at bay, he could justify what he was doing. His need was greater than some stranger’s. At least from his perspective.
Besides, no one was ever going to notice in a hick little town like this.
The trauma team had already left the operating theater, and the clean-up crew was starting to arrive. Within half an hour, what had happened here would be nothing more than a footnote on a patient’s record.
He closed the case and carried it out into the corridor. He had the hospital’s instructions to take the organ to the side entrance reception area, where an escort team of doctors would meet him to take the organ to the patient.
He also had his other instructions. So, instead of turning left down the corridor, he turned right, walking as normally as anyone who had been doing the same job for the last thirty years would.
Two doors down, he entered the cold-storage unit where drugs and other temperature-sensitive materials like organic skin grafts were stored. Walking past the rows of lit cabinets to the farthest aisle, he turned in and then stopped mid-way down to locate an identical case on a rack. He replaced it with the one he had just removed from the operating theater.
He stood up again and listened to make sure no one else had come into the room. Hearing only the hum of the refrigeration units, he left the unit and headed back down the corridor. This time he took a left and made his way back past the operating theater and beyond to the side entrance reception area, per his original instructions.
Striding confidently through the double doors, he found the security guard, Dennis, sitting at his post, whiling away his shift. Dennis was a Secoran, a race who was a rare sight in the main cities of Estaria. But out here in the sticks? Not so much.
“Greetings of the day, Dennis,” he said casually, announcing his arrival.
Dennis turned to him and got to his feet. “Greetings, Clarence! How’s it going?”
“Can’t complain,” Clarence responded. He paused for effect. “Bosses won’t let me,” he added dryly.
Dennis grinned, leaning over and resting his arms on the counter. “What you got happening today?” he asked, eyeing the carrying case.
Clarence gestured at the carrier. “Organ transplant. I was told the pick-up would happen here.”
Dennis looked out toward the doors. “Hmm, I haven’t seen anyone come in yet, though I noticed some folks hanging around outside.”
Clarence left the carrying case on the counter and walked across the foyer to get a better look out the doors. He noticed some trucks and various persons gathering. “That’s probably them. I’m sure they’ll be in any minute,” he confirmed, checking his holo.
He headed back over to the counter. “So what’s new with the Jets?” he asked. He rested his arms on the counter next to the case.
Dennis shook his head with the disappointment reserved only for Game fans. “Not much. They’re still going ahead with that jogeumdo (Secoran trans: damn) transfer. You know, I saw an interview the other night with that chap, what was his name—”
The foyer doors slid open with a whoosh and Dennis looked up at the entrance.
Clarence stood up and turned to see who was coming in. Two Estarians in medical jackets approached the desk, followed by two Estarian priests in full ceremonial dress. The long cloaks appeared to ripple in a way that seemed to defy the laws of both fluid dynamics and gravity.
One of the doctors spoke first. “Greetings of the day be upon you,” he said politely. “We’re here to collect an organ for transfer.”
Clarence stood to attention and gestured grandly with his right hand. “That would be this one here” he responded, patting the carrying case on the counter. He pulled up the transfer approval on his holo. “If I might see some identification?”
Clarence pulled up the retinal scan app on his holo and indicated to the doctor what he needed to do. The first doctor nodded and allowed him to scan his eye. The holo beeped.
“Great,” he said. “That worked. And the second?” He paused, then smirked. “The second doctor. Not eye.”
The first doctor’s expression went blank and he blinked, not understanding the humor. The second doctor looked a fraction flustered as he stepped forward earnestly to allow Clarence to scan his eye too.
“You know. Coz you have two eyes…” Clarence attempted to explain, now aware that he’d perhaps misread his audience.
The two priests who had entered with the doctors exchanged glances, then returned to observing the proceedings.
The holo beeped for the second doctor’s eye as well. “Ok, you’re all set. Sign here,” he instructed, pushing the little screen out to the first doctor.
The doctor waved his index finger into the holo form to confirm receipt of the organ while the second carefully picked up the carrying case.
The first doctor bowed slightly. “Thank you,” he said, and the whole party turned and walked back out of the reception area.
The doors swept closed behind them.
Clarence turned back to Dennis, whose eyes, he realized, had been fixed on the priests for probably the entire encounter. “Job done,” Clarence concluded, waiting for his buddy to mentally come back into the room.
Dennis, however, was still watching the entourage through the front windows. “Now that’s something you don’t see every day!” He whistled to himself.
Clarence double-tapped the counter with the flat of his hand. “Tell me about it.” He started to leave, then turned and paused for another moment, watching them go. Then, he seemed to remember himself. “Ok, Den. Must dash. Catch you later.”
“Yeah, see you later,” Dennis called after him.
Clarence continued through the interior doors without turning around. “Not if I see you first!”
Dennis shook his head, chuckling quietly to himself as he sat back down.
Clarence made his way back to the storage room where he’d stowed the real organ. Time was of the essence in these matters, and he suspected the courier would be here to collect the asset very soon. Once it was handed off, he’d be done and could relax a little. Though, he admitted to himself, this wasn’t exactly as stressful as he had thought it would be.
He opened the door to the temperature-controlled room and entered. As the door swooshed closed behind him, he felt a cold metal object press on his right temple, and heard the charging of a weapon getting ready to fire.
A gruff human voice spoke. “Clarence Agel, I presume?”
Clarence swallowed hard and nodded.
The human spoke again. “We need to talk.”
Edgewater Hospital, Dvergasteinn, Storage Room #056, Ground Floor
Clarence Agel stood frozen in the temperature-controlled storage room, awaiting demands from the human with a gun to his head. When no immediate instructions came, he started to turn to look at his captor.
Immediately the metal against his temple was shoved harder into the side of his head.
“Eyes front, eistnaseggur,” the voice ordered. (trans: ball sack)
Clarence faced forward again as he heard footsteps walk past the door.
“Right,” the voice began again as soon as the footsteps had disappeared. “There is only one way this is going to go.” The man paused. “You’re going to tell me exactly what your little setup is, and who the organ is going to and why.”
Clarence gulped.
The gruff voice kept talking. “Then you’re going to keep working as if we hadn’t had this conversation, and deliver the package. The only thing you have any control over is how much force I need to use in order to make this happen. Understand?”
The Estarian nodded.
The voice paused, and the pressure of the metal against his head was reduced a little. “Oh, and I’ll be taking the real organ first, so you’d better show me where it is.”
Only two people on the planet know what happened in the next ten minutes. Clarence Agel was found a few hours later, rocking in a corner of the storage unit. He was suffering from shock, and was unable to talk about his afternoon. Other than that, he was relatively unharmed.
Unreviewed security cameras would have shown a large human male on a motorbike peeling out of the hospital parking lot a few minutes after the encounter.
The footage was never seen by any entity in the Sark System, because, well. There were reasons.
Edgewater Hospital, Dvergasteinn
Sean tore out of the hospital parking lot on a fully vamped bike, efficiently requisitioned by Oz and supplied by Framan.
Careful to remain a safe distance from the mundane-looking navy blue car that had pulled away a minute before, he looked down at his holo to make sure the tracker was functioning correctly.
Satisfied, he decided he should take the opportunity to check in.
He spoke into the microphone in his helmet. “Call Crash,” he instructed. His holo connected a call with Crash, who was waiting upstairs in a Pod.
Crash answered, his tone cool and collected. “You have reached mission control. How may I connect your call?”
Sean spoke in his radio voice, which was just as cool and collected as his teammate’s. “Crash, tailing the pick-up. Have you got eyes?”
There was a slight pause and the line hummed a little. “That’s a negative. One moment,” he said over the comm.
Crash muted the line. “Oz, can you take me closer?”
“Yes. We have more freedom here. In these less populated areas there is very little radar monitoring the skies,” Oz replied.
A few moments later, Crash was hovering above Sean and the target. He unmuted his connection with Sean. “Ok, I have a twenty on you and your tango.”
Sean changed gears to stay well out of the car’s view. “Ok. Stay on my six. Might need a fast extraction. Agel confirmed warehouse is well guarded.”
Crash responded. “Roger that. Let me know when you want that call placed to Detective Lato.”
Sean grunted, remembering that part. He was so used to operating on his own. No back up, no local authorities. He huffed a little, enough for Crash to detect over the line even with all the background noise. “You can probably do that right now. It’ll take him some time to get a unit briefed and on scene.”
There was a pause.
“I don’t need long once I get there,” he added.
Crash smiled to himself, noticing a subtle little facet of Sean’s personality in that very telling statement. He pulled up the number on his holo. “On it now. Leaving the line open, but muting myself to make the call.”
“Understood,” Sean acknowledged.
Sean tailed the car through a couple of villages and farther out into the countryside. Dust was starting to build up on his visor— the force field was doing a shit job of keeping it off. He made a mental note to request better gear on these kinds of ops in the future. It’s not like Framan was deliberately setting them up to fail, but a few tweaks here and there would make their operations run more smoothly for sure. At least they had managed to get him the bike. Much easier to blend in on it in these parts, rather than using technology from the somewhat mythical Etheric Empire.
He watched the car take a right through a hedge into what looked like a dirt track off the red dusty road. He slowed to approach the gap in the hedge with caution so he could see what he was heading into. He hoped the ground was solid enough for the bike. The tires on this machine were designed for the road; anything too sandy and he’d be screwed.
He mentally prepared a Plan B in case he needed to make the rest of the transit in a Pod.
He reached the hedge opening and killed the engine, which switched him automatically into electric only. As he crept forward, he saw that the track the car was following led through a field of tall brittle grasses.
He opened his comm. “Looks like we’ve got the venue,” he told Crash. He heard a click on the line indicating that Crash was receiving, but he was presumably on the call with the police departments still.
Sean followed the car, remaining far enough behind that he was unlikely to be spotted. Thankfully the road wasn’t completely straight, so his presence could be concealed for the most part.
Just as the sand was getting too soft for his wheels, the track terminated in front of a huge building. It seemed to be disused and in desperate need of repair. He knew better, though. This was the central hub for the organ-stealing operation. He had seen operations like this before. He shook his head. A bunch of star systems and umpteen different civilizations, but the shit that people pulled on each other…
He pulled his thoughts back to the mission. It wasn’t in his best interests to be distracted by rhetoric or social philosophy right now.
The car pulled up right in front of it and an athletic-looking male Ogg in his late twenties got out. He went around to the passenger side and retrieved the package, then locked up the car and walked around to the side of the building.
Sean, still on electric only, parked his bike in the grasses before reaching the opening. No point in being rumbled by his ride, he reasoned.
Crash came on the intercom again. “Be advised, Lato is sending a team. We’ll be in contact with them as soon as they are on final approach.”
“Received,” Sean acknowledged. “I’m following the package in. Switching to infrared visuals.”
Crash muted again. “How the hell can he view the place in infrared? Is that a cyborg thing?” he asked Oz.
“I believe so. I can’t get into his systems because the security is too complex for the processing I have available right now. But the fact that he has systems would suggest he is running more than just your average holosystem and implants,” Oz responded.
Crash shook his head, his face expressionless. “Son of a bitch!”
“Yes, I’d agree with that.” Oz went quiet.
Sean visually scanned the building from top to bottom. “I have three readings on the upper floor, in one corner. Probably an office or a meeting room.” He paused. “Then another eight, no, nine, plus our transporter, on the ground floor.”
Crash clicked his acknowledgment.
He heard some scuffling and the arming of a weapon on the line, then Sean’s voice. “I’m going in.”
Chapter 17
Ascender-Grace Hospital, Spire
Molly strode down the corridor.
Now where?
Second left, and then straight ahead. You’re looking for the Intensive Care Unit.
Molly’s footsteps pounded on the bacteria-resistant flooring. She spotted a sign marked “ICU” and followed it through a set of double doors.
The color of the decor changed, and it felt more clinical. Molly stopped walking and looked around a little.
Did I just go through a securifield?
You did.
Will it damage the organ?
Unlikely. There is no radiation in those fields, else they’d have all kinds of trouble transporting patients between wards.
Ok. Let’s hope. Now where?
Next door on your right.
Molly stopped outside a private suite. There was no name on the door, just the designation, “Patient Dvergasteinn.”
That’s the location where the convoy started out.
Yes. There is an eighty-nine percent probability it’s the right place.
Molly waved her hand in front of the door and it slid open quietly. She entered a small dark room with a large observation window, which overlooked a brightly lit hospital room with a little boy and his mother in it.
The observation room wasn’t empty.
Molly jumped a little as she detected movement to her left. “Er. Greetings,” she fumbled. “I’m here to deliver an organ for transplant. I’m from Framan.”
Two Estarians dressed in regal looking robes turned to face her. They glanced at each other, relief in their eyes. Molly guessed they must be the clergy she’d read about in her research.
“Greetings.” The priestess stepped forward and made a gesture with her hand. Molly wanted to step back a little, but resisted the urge.
“I need to hand this over to a medic,” she said switching into ops mode. She peered into the room, looking for someone to take the carrier from her.
The other cleric bowed a little, then hit the intercom and announced the organ’s arrival, presumably to the relevant party.
“Someone will be here in a moment,” he relayed to her.
The female started talking to Molly. “You have no idea how grateful we are.”
Molly’s right shoulder raised a little in an awkward shrug. “It’s ok,” she said. “Just doing our job.”
The female priest leaned in a bit, her voice hushed but excited. “Yes, but the implications! You don’t know who this is, do you?”
Molly surreptitiously straightened her back and glanced at the door she’d just entered through. “No,” she said quietly. “We’ve been deliberately kept in the dark as to the identity of the family, I assume for their safety.”
The two robed Estarians looked at each other like they knew a secret but were astounded that Molly didn’t.
Molly finally took her half-step backwards, and now that she felt a little more comfortable she was able to make small talk. “There weren’t any priests on the transport here, I’m afraid.” She looked at the carrying case. “I don’t know if that is going to be a problem. There were issues with the convoy that had been arranged.”
Neither priest seemed to be fazed by the information. They continued smiling.
Molly kept talking, awkwardly. “Well, fingers crossed it still works. I mean, I have no idea what kind of organ this even is. My familiarity with Estarian physiology is well, limited to secondary school.”
The priestess held up a hand as if to calm Molly. Or hush her politely. Molly couldn’t tell which. The priestess spoke in a very definite tone now. “It is foretold that the Savior of the Messenger will be the one to bring understanding to this world.”
Molly took a moment to try and parse what she had just heard. She was confused, so she shrugged. “Er, messenger. Yeah. I’m just dropping off the organ for the transplant.”
The priestess smiled knowingly. “Are you not saving this boy’s life?”
Molly shifted the carrier onto her hip. “Er… Yeah, I guess.”
She glanced into the room where the boy lay. It looked like his mother was praying now. Molly kept watching through the window as she spoke, distracted. “I, er… I dunno if the energy field has been compromised.” She gestured at the carrier.
The priestess smiled knowingly at her. “The organ has been well protected. Thank you for your service, Molly Bates.”
Just then the door behind her opened and a couple of doctors rushed in. Molly’s attention came back to the little room. She completed the necessary retinal scans and took their signatures. As soon as that was done, she handed over the carrying case to one of the doctors.
She turned to leave, then glanced at the priestess. “I’ll just, er…” she pointed at the door, indicating her intent to get far away from the situation. “So, er…good luck,” she muttered, and then hurried past the doctors without making eye contact again.
Tell me there were a world of odd things about that conversation.
Yes. I was confused as to how she might know your name.
I’m wondering if this is one of those ‘seeing’ priestesses that Paige was talking about.
Possibly. No way to hack that kind of circuitry to find out, though.
You mean her brain? No, Oz, you cannot hack a person’s brain. She paused. Can you? she thought mostly to herself.
Molly shook her head, smiling at the parallel thought processes she and Oz shared. She wouldn’t admit it out loud, but hacking a physical brain was something she had often contemplated how to do.
Let’s check in with the others. Then I need a bloody strong mocha. And a rest.
Sure. Closest location for what you could term a ‘decent mocha’ is in the cafeteria. Sean is just about to breach the building where the empty case was taken.
And Joel?
Two, maybe two and half hours out from Spire at their current velocity.
Looks like we’ve got some time to kill then. Which way to the cafeteria?
Abandoned Warehouse, Dvergasteinn
The place was like a war zone. Injured people were strewn throughout the warehouse and gathered in front of the building. Ambulances were still arriving to whisk away those in the most need of medical help.
Not everyone was going to be leaving for the hospital in an ambulance, though.
The transporter of the empty organ case sat in the back of an ambulance. He was one of the lucky ones. A police sergeant was making notes on his holo while recording the testimony in real-time for evidence in the courts.
“He came in and then death just started happening,” the Ogg stammered, shock starting to set in as his body temperature dropped. “Once he’d thrown me to the floor, guys with guns started shooting at him, and he was like boom, boom, boom!” He pulled the foil-lined sheet around him tighter and shivered. “I don’t think he missed a single shot.”
The lanky police sergeant stood next to him at the ambulance door while a paramedic took care of the patient. “And where were you when this was happening?” the sergeant asked.
“On the floor by the door. I mean, that’s where I started, but then he was shooting, and the guys were shooting back at him. I didn’t want to get shot, so I just crawled on my belly to get behind the tables in there. “He gestured feebly in the direction of the warehouse he’d been pulled from just minutes before.
The officer nodded professionally, careful not to convey any sense of sympathy. “And then what happened?” he asked him, making a note on his holo.
“Well, some others popped out,” the Ogg muttered, reliving the event in his mind’s eye, “but they didn’t have weapons, so he tied up two of them. Then even more guys with guns came down. You know, Doork’s guys. They must have been upstairs. Anyway, he shot some of them in like their kneecaps and stuff, then took some of them out.” The transporter’s eyes slid left and right, remembering the event and relaying it as best as his scrabbled brain would allow. “He dragged them into the other room. I didn’t see what happened then. There was like, screaming and talking. And maybe another few gunshots.”
The police office looked up from his holo briefly. “How many?” he asked.
The transporter shook his head. “Dunno. One, two. Maybe three. I was panicking. I thought for sure he was going to come back and finish me off.”
The sergeant continued interviewing the survivor while his partner debriefed Sean.
Sean sat in the back of the squad car, calm as a lion facing a squirrel.
The squirrel sat in front, but had turned around in his seat to talk to Sean. Each of them had their door open. It was more just a place to have a quiet conversation that wasn’t out in the open than a formal interview.
The officer asked Sean his questions. “So you didn’t have anyone else on the ground to help you?”
Sean answered flatly. “No. Just me here. I had team support for the other elements of the operation, though.”
The officer looked confused. “Ok. So, just who are you working for?”
Sean looked a little bored, but answered the question. “Company is called Framan. I’m sure if you call your boss he’ll tell you I’m free to go. This was all pre-authorized.”
The officer nodded congenially. “Yes, yes, I’ve already spoken with him. We’re not charging you. I just want to understand… I mean…with respect…who the hell are you?”
Sean smiled a little. “Sean Royale. Former Space Marine.”
The officer seemed to recover his balls for a moment. He shook his head, smiling. “Yeah. Not buying it. You’re something else as well.”
Sean flashed a mysterious smile. “Well, that’s a story for another time.” He enjoyed being able to get locals all curious—one of the perks of his job. He’d noticed that the General enjoyed doing the same on occasion. And heck, if it was ok for the General, it was ok for him.
Sean got out of the squad car. “Well, if there’s nothing else you need me for, I have to go provide support for the final part of this op.”
The sergeant got out of the car too. “Yeah. Sure. I can’t keep you, I guess.” He walked around the door and held out his hand.
The thirty-something-year-old police officer looked at Sean in admiration. “When I grow up, I wanna be just like you,” he said, half joking but half not. He grinned at his own corniness.
Sean extended one hand and gave him a pat on the shoulder with the other. “Keep eating kale and pepperoni pizza and you’re halfway there, kiddo,” he said.
Sean strode away to collect his bike from its hiding place.
The officer watched him leave, wondering.
Oz interrupted his thoughts via his auditory implant. “Sean, I have a suggestion.”
Sean typed into his holo, LEMME GET MY HELMET ON AND I CAN TALK TO YOU.
He arrived at his bike and grabbed his helmet out of the storage box. “Ok, shoot,” he told Oz.
Oz delivered his update. “Framan is happy to retrieve the bike from this location. They need to send someone anyway to smooth things over with the local police. Relationships and all, I believe. I’ve been advised by ADAM that there is something else they want you to do before you rendezvous with the team in Spire.”
“Oh, ok.” Sean responded, a little surprised at the sudden deviation from their well-crafted plan.
Oz’s voice was enjoying the mystique, almost as much as Sean had done with the police officer. “Yes, it’s a little errand,” he explained, cryptically. “But you’ll need to take the pod, so I suggest dropping Crash at the Spire hospital, and then zipping off to do this quietly.”
Sean answered slowly. “Er. Yeah. You wanna fill me in?”
“Of course,” Oz agreed cordially. “Let’s get Crash dropped off first.”
Sean couldn’t believe it— this was coming from an AI! “You’re deliberately keeping me guessing, aren’t you?”
Oz sounded happy. “Yes, I’m learning the art of suspense.”
Sean didn’t answer.
“Sean?” Oz prompted.
More silence.
Oz tried again. “Sean?”
“What?”
Oz sounded almost irritated. “Why didn’t you answer?” he asked.
“I’m mastering suspense too,” Sean replied flatly.
“Dickhead,” Oz retaliated.
“Right back at you, binary bitch!” Sean chuckled.
Oz was quiet again. Sean could almost feel him whirring in his audio implant.
Finally Oz responded. “Touché, Sean Royale. Touché.”
A moment later Crash’s Pod arrived. Sean hopped in and filled him in on the plan, at least what little he knew about.
The police sergeant who had been debriefed by Sean was headed back to the building to see how the documentation of the scene was going when he sensed movement behind him. He swung around just in time to see the Pod lift about fifteen feet and then disappear above the tree line.
He shook his head.
Damn alien tech. Wish I could get in on that, he thought, turning back to the mundane job in hand.
He walked past his partner, who was still interviewing the transporter.
“And you picked up the organ from Edgewater Hospital?” he was asking.
“Yeah. That’s right. I had no idea I was being followed. I mean, we’re trained on that. I have no idea how this guy tracked me. He must have moved like a ghost or something…”
Johnstone Residence, Spire
The police scanner chattered away in Maya’s implant.
“Be advised. We have made contact. No need to send reinforcements.”
Her apartment was dimly lit and the curtains were drawn against the daylight. Maya preferred to work in the half-light. She had a theory that the blue light from her holos and equipment overstimulated her brain, making it difficult to focus and achieve deep concentration.
“What do you mean?” the controller asked.
“Situation is under control,” replied the officer at the scene.
Maya cocked her head, listening for any details that might help explain what the hell was going on.
The controller spoke again. “Hang on, Sergeant. The Captain wants to speak with you.”
The line crackled, and then a third voice came on the line. It was older and smacked of authority. “What do you mean you don’t need reinforcements? What’s going on?”
The sergeant’s voice was even, as if he wasn’t even trying to comprehend what had just happened too. He relayed only what he knew for fact. “It looks like one guy took them all out.”
The Captain paused, then asked: “What? You mean he killed them?”
“Not exactly, sir. Some are dead. Very bloody and very dead. But he left three alive.” He paused to catch his breath a little. “We’re questioning them now. Will know more in a few hours. But by all accounts, this guy is dangerously efficient.”
That has to be Royale, Maya thought to herself as she listened, excited by the revelation.
The Captain noticed the admiration in his voice. The sergeant continued, “First look says he’s left us everything we need to shut this operation down for good.”
The captain waited to make sure his sergeant didn’t have anything else to report, then said, “Well that is good news. Keep me posted.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“I’ll advise Lato,” added the Captain.
“Very good, sir.”
The call ended.
Maya Johnstone looked up from the console at her little desk, then played back the recording for the umpteenth time and listened again before scribbling some more notes into her holo.
This one smacks of the off-world clandestine crew, she thought to herself. Plus it looks like the algorithms for the police scanners are working.
She checked the location. It was a day’s drive from here. No way she could get there before everything had been wrapped up.
But… she opened another holoscreen, I wonder if this is related to anything else going on?
She checked the location of the squad car that had made the call to Control, then opened her custom data channels and started inputting keywords: Dvergasteinn, Lato, Molly Bates, Sean Royale…
Hopefully something will come up. She hit Search, then remembered her contact at the Spaceport.
She opened the message app on her wrist holo and typed: GREETINGS NED. HOW ARE YOU?
SEND.
Some days she loved her job. And even though she wasn’t officially working right now, today was one of those days.
Besides, she reasoned, it’s not like answers were just going to show up on her doorstep.
Chapter 18
ArchAngel III, Yollin Space
The General rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger as he reclined in his ergonomically-designed antigrav control chair.
“It’s times like this I wish I had Bethany Anne’s processing power to whip through this,” he grumbled crankily.
>> Yes, I’m sure that would be advantageous, although I do perform a large portion of the heavy lifting for you these days. <<
The general dropped his hand to the arm rest and took a deep breath. “Yes, and I appreciate your efforts, ADAM.” He glanced out the window into space. “Ok, two more items, then I’m heading to my quarters to have dinner with Patricia. She’s cooking Earth food tonight, and I for one am ready to call it a night.”
>> Very well, Sir. The next item is our friend in Sark.<<
The general brought his gaze back into the room, paying closer attention now. “What’s she done now?” he asked, a hint of frustration in his voice.
>> She’s…persisting. Her success threatens our entire operation in that sector. <<
Lance exhaled and closed his eyes. “Yep, you’re right.” He started to sit up again. “I recommend termination.”
>> You would. <<
Lance tilted his head. “It can be that simple,” he said flatly, teasing the ancient AI.
>> Your actual orders, sir? <<
“Ok, let’s wrap it up. Have Sean bring her in. She clearly knows too much at this point.” The General rocked a little in his chair. “Last item, then I’m out of here.”
Ascender-Grace Hospital, Spire
Molly sat alone in the deserted hospital cafeteria. The harsh metal and the hard surfaces made it feel clinical without being sterile. She nursed her second mocha, her eyes focused on a spot of old food dried onto the table in front of her.
Looks like dried mashed-up meat.
Maybe stew.
Could just be lumpy gravy.
Her thoughts drifted, no longer seeing the debris. Or the table. Her mind churned through the events of the last several days: Bethany Anne’s image on the ship, the hangar deck, the ops room, the General, and frickin’ ADAM.
She absentmindedly shook her head.
She realized that on some level she was grateful to have been able to sit and just be for the last few hours. And Oz had strangely left her alone, apart from a few moments ago when he announced Crash’s arrival at the hospital. She wondered briefly what Oz was up to, he went so quiet.
There was movement by the door on the other side of the cafeteria. Crash came marching in, glancing over at the empty displays and the handful of busy kitchen staff clearing up.
He arrived at Molly’s table. She made an effort to focus and meet his eyes.
“Hey,” she said.
He put his hand on the seat opposite her. “Hey. You managed ok?” he asked.
She nodded and pushed the almost-empty mocha cup away. “There’s mocha in those pots over there. It’s not fresh, but not terrible.”
Crash sat down, looking in the direction of the self-serve. “I’ll pass,” he decided. He glanced around the cafeteria again, aware of the number of people around and the distance from each, just as he’d learned in the Space Marines. Then he peered at Molly, noticing she hadn’t lifted herself out of the contemplative mood she’d been in when he arrived. “The boy in surgery?” he asked.
“Yeah.” Molly looked at her holo. “Should be out soon, though. Wanna head down there?”
Crash nodded, pushing his chair back. “Sure.”
Molly took one last look at her cup and reached for it, but then decided to leave it. She got up and followed Crash out of the cafeteria, watching the space on the floor between her feet and his heels.
Crash stopped and turned to her as they stepped out of the cafeteria. “So you know that Sean had to go do something?” he checked, aware that she still wasn’t quite herself.
“Yeah,” she answered, this time not looking up, but tracing her path with her eyes. She looked tired. Mentally tired, rather than physically. Her eyes were a little hollow and dark around the sockets.
“Secret mission for the General?” he asked.
She pulled a little face and did a mock-serious voice. “Empire business.”
Crash had a hint of a smile as he turned to continue down the corridor with her, relieved that the old Molly was still in there somewhere.
The pair wandered through the labyrinth of clinical-feeling corridors and found their way to the waiting area for the ward where Molly had found the boy a little while ago.
They chose their seats, and slumped down. Molly leaned over in Crash’s direction briefly, too tired to actually turn and look at him. “Your day go ok?” she asked, making the effort.
Crash bobbed his head. “Yeah. Was good. Got the bad guys.” He paused, then corrected himself. “Well, Sean got the bad guys. Singlehandedly,” he added. He leaned in her direction too, nudging shoulders, before sitting up straight again. “Why don’t you lie down and get some rest? You look beat.”
Molly grunted, but stayed still, almost catatonic.
Crash flicked up his holo and started reading, or surfing, or whatever the hell pilots did when they had time to kill.
A short time later there was a clatter outside. The doors to the ward whooshed open, and Paige came stumbling in, followed by Joel, Pieter and Brock
Joel headed straight over to Molly and sat down on her other side, although there was a mocha table between them. “You doing ok?” he asked. She had barely lifted her eyes to greet him.
She nodded. “What happened? Did they sign for it?”
Joel nodded. “Yup. Genuinely surprised. Doesn’t look like anyone at this end had anything to do with it. At least the folks I saw.”
Molly acknowledged the information with a “hmm.”
Joel looked at her. “So, you get your package delivered ok?” he asked.
She nodded again. “Waiting for him to come out of surgery.”
Just then a tall, athletic-looking Estarian came striding in; the boy’s father, who had ridden in the convoy with Joel. Instead of looking confused, he seemed happy and positively relieved.
Joel stood up as he approached. The man held out his hand to shake Joel’s. Molly forced herself to make eye contact, and even managed a slight smile.
“I can’t thank you enough,” the father told them both. He held out his hand to Molly too. She stood and took his hand. “They say that he’s going to be ok. He’s out of surgery and coming around already. It’s…it’s incredible!”
Molly smiled, and although she was exhausted, her heart felt full for a moment. Contented.
“Thank you both,” he said again. “I’m just heading in to see him. Would you like to come?”
Joel made the right noises and gestured for him to lead the way. The father looked around briefly to orient himself and led them through another set of doors to a corridor and then into the observation room. He went straight into the hospital room itself to join the boy and his mother.
Molly and Joel stayed in the observation room where she had seen the priests earlier. When the others filed in behind them, Joel moved over to make space. He wanted their team to see what they’d accomplished.
Just as the father arrived, the boy’s eyes flickered open and he looked up to see his parents. The father grinned in a way Joel wouldn’t have thought his face could contort. A tear fell from the mother’s eye as she clasped her hands to her chest, then put them around the little boy’s face, looking at him in complete relief and adoration.
The father, beside himself with emotion, caught the boy’s eye and then pointed vigorously at the window. He realized that the one-way filter was on and stepped over to adjust the control. The window became two-way, and the father said some words to him, perhaps explaining that these were the people who had saved his life.
The little boy, still groggy and disoriented, looked over at the window and smiled.
His eyes met Molly’s.
Molly caught her breath, overcome with emotion as they connected. He looked so vulnerable, but there was a light inside of him.
Then, for a moment, the boy looked familiar. Like she’d seen him before. Or that she knew him. Her mind raced, trying to connect where and who, but she came up blank. She didn’t know any children. That wasn’t her world. But strangely, she felt something she couldn’t place.
Almost subconsciously, she became aware of that her right hand had raised to shoulder height, and she waved her fingers. The boy lifted the hand nearest the window and waved back as best he could.
Joel, standing on the other side of the observation area, noticed each of the team taking a moment to appreciate that the boy was alive, and their part in it. Paige wiped a tear from her eye.
But it was Molly’s connection with the boy that had him curious. He noticed the wave, and the little boy waving back at her. He smiled to himself.
It was good for her to connect. Today was a win, in more ways than one.
Two Thousand Feet Up, Somewhere above Spire
Having just deposited Crash in the parking lot and pointed him in the direction of the cafeteria where Molly was getting her fix, the Pod containing Sean Royale lifted back into the sky.
Sean held on tightly to the grip bars in the Pod and quickly scanned around him for the seatbelt. Joel wasn’t here. He could use it with impunity if he wanted to.
“Ok, Oz,” he started. “Easy on the gees.”
Over the Pod’s comm, Oz replied, “Yes, Sean.”
Something was up.
Oz was being too…nice. Sean settled back into the seat as the Pod evened out.
“Ok,” he said, suspiciously. “Now are you going to tell me exactly what is going on?”
The audio crackled a little. “Yes, Sean. Now I will tell you.”
Sean raised his eyes to the sky in frustration with this young AI. Give him two-hundred-year-old ADAM who had been whipped into shape by the Queen Bitch herself any day.
Sean waited.
Oz started explaining. “ADAM has asked us to collect one Maya Johnstone.”
“Maya Johnstone?” Sean repeated. “She was on our watch list.”
Oz seemed to have mastered the nuances of a sarcastic tone. “So I’m told,” he replied. “Apparently our activities tripped one of her alarms on the police scanner today, and since she’d already hacked Molly’s ship—”
Sean’s eyes widened spontaneously.
Oz continued. “—and is fast gathering a dangerous amount of intel on our operation, ADAM advised that we pick her up and bring her in for a conversation.” He paused. “The General agreed.”
Sean was suspicious again. “What kind of conversation?” he asked, carefully.
It almost sounded like Oz chuckled. “Ah,” he qualified. “not the kind that you’d normally have. More the ‘make-friends-and-possibly-recruit’ kind that Joel has.”
Sean nodded, impressed with where this was going. “Ok, great. So where is she, and how much does she know about us?”
“She’s about two thousand feet directly below us, and, well, she knows who you are.”
Sean almost screamed. “Whaaaaaat?” he asked, abandoning his cool, collected, EE-Marine demeanor.
Oz sounded satisfied. “Yes. I predicted you might have just such have a reaction.” He made the chuckling sound again. “The reality is, she’s good. Even ADAM was impressed, given she is…organic. And he hasn’t been impressed since, well, Molly.”
Sean resisted the urge to ask whether ADAM thought Maya or Molly was smarter. He knew chicks hated being compared.
“So how much does she know?” he asked.
Oz seemed to have settled down, and had returned to his normal tone. “Only that you don’t show up on any databases, and that your name is Sean Royale.”
Sean nodded his head and shifted in his seat, knowing what was coming next. “Ah. Well, I can live with that,” he conceded.
Oz added one more detail. “She also suspects you’re…enhanced.”
“Huh?” He paused, processing the implications. “Well there goes that surprise. I could have used it for leverage.” He looked out into the atmosphere, which at this height was red-hued from the light of Sark refracting off dust and water particles. “Have you told Molly and Joel?”
Oz confirmed. “They’re both aware.”
Sean took a deep breath. “Anything else?” he asked.
“No, that’s it,” Oz told him. “Ready?”
Sean smirked. “Born ready.” His hands tightened on the grip bars he had been holding as the Pod rapidly descended to ground level.
Sean nearly lost his stomach. In the back of his mind he wondered if Oz was experimenting with how much he could mess with people before they pushed back. The sarcasm was probably just the beginning of it.
The Pod came to a stop, then opened.
Oz gave his final instruction. “I’ll collect you here when you’re ready. Try not to scare the girl. ADAM says she carries Ogg repellent.”
Sean shook his head in amazement—partly that he was now taking orders from Oz as well as ADAM and partly because he’d just been informed what kind of journalist he was picking up.
Girls that stay out of trouble don’t find it necessary to carry Ogg repellent. Generally.
“I’ll watch my step,” Sean said gruffly, as he hopped heavily out of the Pod. A second later the Pod disappeared, and Sean headed over to the front door of Maya’s building.
He hit the heads-up display. “Maya Johnstone please.”
The display brought up her name.
— Maya Johnstone—
The audio connected. “Hello?” Sean said politely. “Maya Johnstone? This is Sean Royale.”
Chapter 19
Johnstone Residence, Spire
Sean knocked, announcing his arrival at her apartment door.
Maya went to the closed door. “Why are you here?” she demanded.
Sean couldn’t help himself. “You’ve been a bad girl.” He kept his face straight, but he was amused.
Maya peered into the door holo, trying to decide whether or not to let the man she’d been trying to track for the last several weeks into her apartment. “Not as bad as you’ve been,” she retorted coldly.
Sean resisted the urge to shake his head, and kept it semiprofessional. He spotted the holo camera trained on the spot where he stood. “You’re the one who has been tracking me,” he answered, keeping his voice low. He looked up and down the corridor, checking for eavesdroppers.
Maya thought for a moment, her hand on the doorknob. “Is that why you’re here?” she asked, her mind racing. “To silence me?”
Sean kept his voice as neutral as he could. “No, actually. Turns out the boss wants a word with you.”
Ok, epic fail on the professional thing, he told himself.
Her hand was still on the knob. “Who’s your boss?” she demanded.
Always collecting intel, he observed. Sean shook his head once before catching himself.
“You’ll see,” he answered out loud.
Maya hmmphed. “Good thing I already know you’re the good guys,” she retorted.
Sean just couldn’t leave it alone. “How do you know that?” he needled. And why are you still breaking my balls out here? he added to himself.
Maya smiled behind the closed, locked door, resting her forehead on it. “Like you said, I’ve been a Very. Bad. Girl.”
Sean sighed quietly to himself. Women!
He used his diplomatic voice. “Does that mean you’re going to come with me?”
Maya smirked a little, now openly enjoying the banter. “Depends,” she told him, her tone now more flirtatious than ‘fuck you.’ “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
Sean had picked up a thing or two about negotiation. “If I do, will you come?”
“Yes,” she responded directly.
He believed her. Apart from anything else, she was curious as all fuck. He smiled to himself, still aware of the camera trained on him. “Remember that ship you hacked into?”
“Yes,” she confirmed simply.
“Remember the asteroid location you pulled off it?” he asked.
“I do.”
“There’s your answer,” he told her.
There was a slight pause.
“I’ll get my coat,” she answered.
Sean shook his head. The door opened and he heard footsteps heading off across the room. Taking it as an invitation to enter, he stepped inside to see an Estarian woman disappear into the bedroom. A minute later she came out again, lipstick and atmosuit on.
Maya smiled at him. “Ok, let’s go.”
Sean, keeping his expression blank, turned and headed back out into the corridor.
Maya followed him out of her apartment, locking the door behind her. “I feel like Alice, being invited down the rabbit hole,” she confided, her voice more like a young girl’s than the self-assured journalist he had just been negotiating with.
Sean grinned. “Wait until you meet the Queen of Hearts!”
The two headed down the stairs to the outside.
The Toroid Desert Club, Outskirts of Spire
Jessica was excited to finally have the opportunity to present her ideas to the group. Between implementing the plan to thwart Molly and her team and dealing with other business, the retreat was turning out to be quite…tedious.
But now she got her chance to play with something she had been mulling over for a little while. “Do you know how the healthcare system is set up at the moment?”
There were a few nods from the attendees.
Jessica glanced around the table, now in presentation mode. “Well, I’ve been thinking. With this latest change in the Health Care Act, we’ve got ourselves a real opportunity.”
Garet cocked his head a little. “How do you mean?” he asked, clearly trying to encourage her enthusiasm.
Jessica took a sip of water and put the glass back down. “Well,” she continued, looking at the glass as she chose her words, “right now we’re on the brink of having—what? sixty percent?—of the population receiving their health services through the healthcare companies. And this includes all treatments: hospital stays, drugs and so on. Now, the one we care about is drugs. It’s scalable with very little overhead.”
Both Mac and Andus nodded casually as she spoke.
Jessica looked back at Garet. “All we need to do is tie this health system into the economy and we have an entire population that is economically…enslaved. To us. And with no regulation on pricing of treatment, they have to pay through the healthcare companies if they want treatment.”
Andus seemed nonplussed by her comments.
Mac needed to turn his head to look at her, as they were sitting next to each other again. He rested his elbow on the table and kept his index finger across his mouth as he absorbed her logic.
Garet shook his head, his arms extended on the table, hands parallel to each other but bouncing gently on the desk as he spoke. “But that means that the healthcare companies will make all the profit.”
Jessica smiled and glanced at her mentor, who now had a hint of a smug smile at the corners of his lips. “Guess who really owns the healthcare companies?” she posited. She looked at Garet with a glint in her eye.
Garet stared at her for a moment, then turned and looked at Andus. “No shit? Seriously?” he asked, trying to understand the specifics. “Since when?”
Jessica glanced back at Andus. He waved his hand, permitting her to share. Jessica was giddy with excitement, but tried to remain nonchalant. “Well,” she began slowly, “Andus has been accruing them for ancestors-know-how-long…” Her voice trailed off a little, and then her smile spread across her whole face. “But I just bought my first one today. Anonymously, of course.”
Garet looked fleetingly concerned, but quickly remembered himself and his agenda. He gave his best fake smile. “Why, Jessica,” he exclaimed, “that’s just fantastic. Congratulations!”
Jessica beamed at him. “Thank you, Garet.”
“Yes, congratulations, Jessica,” agreed Mac, slightly less enthused.
She glanced sideways in his direction and acknowledged him politely.
Garet had a thought. “Hey, you know what might be an option, longer term?”
Andus leaned forward. “Go on…”
Garet stood up halfway and reached for the water jug in the middle of the large table. He poured himself some water, then sat back down again. “Well, we all know what a huge effect nutrition has on the health of a population. I mean, why else do we keep suppressing that research?” He glanced around the room, hands open, waiting for agreement.
Andus shifted in his chair to better look at Garet.
Garet, taking their silence as agreement, continued, “Well, like I said, this might be a long shot, but what if we were to erm…adapt the food industry to provide food that actually made people sick. Or sicker. You know, with sugars, and artificial “nutrients” and such.
Jessica looked intrigued. “Well, we have already developed a lot of those kinds of substances, but we never thought we could get them into the food industry.”
Garet pursed his lips thoughtfully. He paused before answering, “Even if it made food production cheaper and more profitable?”
There was a long silence in the board room.
Then suddenly Andus slapped his hand down hard on the table, pushed back his chair a little, and started laughing. “Hahhahahaa! That’s a good one Garet!”
He was positively tickled. His shoulders jumped up and down as he guffawed, and the others suddenly seemed to come to the same conclusion about the idea.
Jessica roared with laughter. “That’s great. Using the food industry to make people sicker!”
Garet joined in, feeling ridiculous for suggesting something so unrealistic.
Even Mac was beside himself with mirth. Eventually he wiped a tear from his face and tried to catch his breath. “Garet, I had my doubts about you, but I like a man with a sense of humor. You’re all right in my book.”
Andus shook his head. “It’s a nice idea,” he agreed, looking sympathetically at Garet. “It would, however, never work.”
The group were still trying to compose themselves when there was a knock at the door.
“Enter!” called Andus above the hubbub and chuckles, taking out his handkerchief and drying his eyes from all the laughter.
The Ogg known as Erik came in, waddling purposefully across the room. He passed Mac and Jessica on their side of the board room table and headed straight toward Andus. He whispered something in his ear.
A few somethings.
The room fell silent, trying to overhear what was going on and waiting with anticipation for the content of the message.
Andus nodded as the Ogg talked, then promptly dismissed him.
Erik waddled back toward the door. He started to close it behind him, then hesitated and took his hand off the knob.
He looked at the doorknob again, then turned it and stepped outside, leaving the door open. A moment later he changed his mind, grabbing the knob and pulling the door closed.
The group watched the door shut.
Jessica was about to speak again when the doorknob turned and the door opened a crack. Noisily. The group heard a decisive grunt from the other side of the door, then footsteps waddling away down the corridor.
Jessica shook her head. Garet caught her eye and smiled.
Andus looked like he was about to speak. “Our operation,” he told them, “has failed.”
Stunned silence filled the room.
Jessica, Garet and Mac exchanged glances.
Andus looked at each of them in turn. “When I say failed, I mean that somehow the Bates girl and her team of reprobates have succeeded.”
“The boy lives,” he continued, his speech picking up both speed and volume. “And not only that, but the whole operation of gathering organs and supplying the unofficial market has been discovered and shut down. Almost all personnel involved in that area have been killed, or worse, compromised.”
Jessica’s mouth was open in exasperation. “How could this happen? For a start, they were supposed to be too exhausted to even function. How did they find out about the switch? That’s…that’s impossible!” Her disbelief slowly turned into anger.
Mac was looking at something on his holo. Jessica glanced over at him in irritation, ready to chastise him for not having his attention on the issue in hand.
Mac managed to speak first. “More bad news,” he said seriously. “Looks like our anonymous whistleblower has posted again.”
Andus’ eyes turned cold grey. “Something needs to be done about that reporter,” he said quietly. He looked at Jessica. “See to it,” he ordered her.
Jessica lowered her eyes. “Yes, sir,” she acknowledged.
Ascender-Grace Hospital, Spire
“Molly is in the Intensive Care waiting area,” Oz announced when the Pod carrying Sean and Maya dropped onto the parking lot.
Maya had refused to put her seatbelt on, and had instead pressed up against the window trying to see everything she could as they had shot up and then dropped back down on the other side of town.
“This is incredible!” she breathed with her nose pressed against the window.
“Miss Maya, you’re humidifying my heads-up display,” Oz commented.
She took her sleeve and aimlessly wiped the fogged-up spot. She turned and looked at Sean. “So, this is where the organ was going?”
Sean nodded. “Yup. This is it.”
The Pod opened and Sean got out, then turned to help Maya out. She took his hand and deftly dropped onto the tarmac. “Ok then,” she said. “Let’s go find Molly and your Marine twin.”
Sean pursed his lips at the mention of Joel, but otherwise tried to ignore the comment.
They started walking toward the main entrance as the Pod lifted, disappearing into the upper atmosphere. Sean briefed her as they walked. “So you’ll get to meet the whole team now, and then we’ll head up to the base, where the General will want to speak to you at some point.”
Maya glanced at him, then back in the direction they were heading. She couldn’t contain her smile. Finally she was getting answers. What’s more, they were way more exciting than she could possibly have imagined. The Pod ride itself had shown her that.
They wended their way through the corridors, finally arriving at the waiting room where the others were already assembled.
Paige jumped up to welcome them, then stopped when she saw Maya. “Hi,” she said. Her excited smile turned to a polite one.
Sean felt compelled to fill her in. “This is Maya. She’s the journalist who has been tracking us. General wants a word with her.”
Paige faltered for a moment. “Oh. Well. Hi, I guess.” She walked a few steps toward them and held out her hand to the Estarian female. “I’m Paige.”
Maya took her hand. “Maya. Pleased to be acquainted with you.” Maya was staring.
Paige’s heart sank a little. It was a normal reaction. “Half human,” she said gesturing at her own face and waving her hand in a circular motion.
Maya lifted her head, her eyes still not moving. “Ahhhhh…” she exclaimed slowly. “I. Sorry… I didn’t mean to…”
Paige waved her hand. “It’s fine. Really.” Her eyes drooped a bit, betraying her slight sadness. “I’m used to it.”
She stepped out of the way and gestured toward Molly and Joel. “This is Mom and Dad,” she said brightly.
Molly scowled at her. “Don’t mind Paige,” she said, getting up and looking at Maya, then holding out her hand. “She’s just a brat sometimes.”
Paige stuck her tongue out at Molly. Molly smiled a little and gave her a tiny wink. Paige relaxed, suddenly feeling that she actually felt at home with this troop of secretive vagabonds.
Molly made the introductions, and the rest of the team got up to greet Maya.
Molly turned to Joel. “Looks like we can make tracks now,” she told him.
Joel circled his finger in the air. “All right, folks, let’s move out,” he instructed.
Paige suddenly froze, looking at Sean and Maya with horror on her face. “Hang on! I hope we’re not resorting to kidnapping?”
Maya looked panicky for a moment, then exhaled and let out a laugh. “No, I don't think I’m being kidnapped. After all, Sean did ask nicely.” She glanced at him. “But that would make one hell of a story,” she added.
Paige’s eyes lit up. “Yeah! I was kidnapped once.”
Maya gasped. “Really?” she asked, moving closer to her.
Paige nodded, and they spontaneously linked arms and started chatting like they’d been best friends forever.
Sean watched them as he followed the group out of the waiting room. “Ooooooh!” Maya was saying. “You’re the one Dewitt took!”
He shook his head. Again. Women!
Paige was engrossed in telling the story. “Well, technically it was Molly and me, but he tried to kill Molly first and she survived thanks to—” she stopped, suddenly catching Molly’s eye as Molly stood by the door to let the others walk through first.
Molly nodded, rolling her eyes a little. “It’s ok,” she said to Paige. “You can tell her. It’s not like that kind of intel is going to break the news.”
Paige continued recounting the story. “Molly was totally drunk and it turned out that was the only thing that saved her. I mean, talk about lucky!”
The rest of the gang trooped out of the hospital in a cloud of chatter and quiet excitement over the mission, and their relative roles in it.
When the Pods dropped back down for them, Paige and Maya got into one together, Sean completely forgotten.
Maya exclaimed as they got in, “Oh my ancestors. This is how you didn’t need to go through the Spaceport!”
Paige grinned. “Yeah, pretty cool, eh?”
Joel came up behind Sean, watching the absorbed girls as they embarked.
“If anything looks like trouble, that does,” he said quietly to Sean. He stood for a moment next to him, his arms folded across his chest.
Sean exhaled, folding his arms too. “I think you may be right, mate,” he said, a look of mild concern crossing his normally blank face.
The two girls had sat down in the Pod and were looking back in the direction of the two Marines. Paige put her hand over her mouth so she couldn’t be lip-read and said something. Maya giggled and said something back.
“Oooo boy,” said Joel, exhaling. He noticed Molly getting into a Pod by herself and started to head in her direction, only to see Sean heading for Molly as well.
Joel looked at him. “You want to ride with Molly?” he asked him.
Sean was taken aback. “Er, sure. It would be good to brief her on the…er, Maya situation.”
Joel didn’t buy it for a second. “Ok, cool. I’ll hop in with Pieter. See you up there.”
Sean swiped self-consciously at his nose with his thumb and slapped Joel on the side of the arm. “Ok. Thanks, man. See you up there.”
Joel glanced back to see Sean leaping athletically in with Molly. On the one hand, he knew her defenses were not going to give Sean another in. On the other hand, he felt he should be there to protect her from unwanted attention.
He headed over to Pieter’s Pod.
She’s a grown-ass woman, he told himself. She can handle an enhanced cyborg Marine with a crush.
“Hey, man,” he called to Pieter. “How was the mission for you?” He hopped into the Pod next to him, and the door closed.
Pieter started chattering as Joel watched the Pod with Sean and Molly lift off ahead of them.
Chapter 20
Gaitune-67, Secret Basement Base, Hangar Deck
The Pods arrived back in the hangar on Gaitune and the team piled out.
“I’ll be up shortly,” Molly told Sean as she exited the Pod.
“Maya?” she called. Paige was just climbing out, Maya behind her.
“Yes, I’m here,” Maya answered.
Molly ambled over amidst the activity of the others, who were scrambling out of their Pods and talking about dinner. “Wanna come have that chat with the General? Then we’ll get some food and find you a room.”
Paige put her hand up. “Oh, I’ll sort her room out. There’s one next to mine. It just needs to be made up.”
Maya grinned. “That would be fab. Thank you!”
Molly nodded, glad to have one less trivial thing to have to deal with.
“Good,” she said to Paige. “This way, then,” she said to Maya, and strode off, Maya trotting in her wake somewhat like Paige often did with Molly.
The others had gathered their gear and were moving through the array of ships to the metal staircase that lead to the safe house upstairs. Molly and Maya made their way to another corridor and took an elevator straight to the ops room. Maya kept looking around, taking it all in. The technology, the ambiance, the sheer energy of the place! It was beyond alien to her. She shuddered, though she was thrilled to be there.
They stepped out of the elevator and into the ops room. Molly glanced at her as she waved Maya onto the main floor. “You may want to close your mouth.” She touched her own chin. “It’s a little dusty in here.” She winked again to let Maya know she was being friendly.
Maya realized her mouth had been hanging open, and came back to an awareness of herself.
Molly strode over to a console with a platform and hopped up. She jerked her head, encouraging Maya to join her. Hitting the red button, she slumped down and relaxed in what Maya could only assume was an invisible chair.
Molly cocked her head, inviting Maya to do the same. “Yep. Invisible chair,” she said, as if reading Maya’s thoughts.
As Maya sat down, she noticed that the “chair” wasn’t simply something that was tangible but invisible. It was more like thick air that molded to your body to support you however you wanted it to. “Incredible!” she exclaimed in delight.
Molly grinned, still exhausted from the day but feeling a little more human than when Crash had hauled her out of the cafeteria earlier.
Just then a voice asked, “You rang?” in a low, drawn-out pitch.
Molly exhaled through her nose, finding it humorous. “Hi, ADAM. I hear from Oz that the General wanted a word with one Maya Johnstone.”
The voice responded, sounding human, but strangely not. “That is correct,” ADAM told her.
Molly waved her hand. She was pretty sure that ADAM couldn’t see, but did it for effect anyway. “May I present to you, Maya Johnstone. In the flesh.”
Maya raised her hand to wave slightly in the direction of the console. “Hi,” she said, a little nervously.
ADAM responded politely. “Greetings of the day to you, Maya. I’m ADAM. I’m what you would term an AI.”
He paused, letting her absorb that piece of information.
Maya’s whipped her head around to look at Molly. “No shit?” she whispered, her voice three octaves higher than usual, both her eyes and mouth wide. “Whaaaat?” she mouthed, not wanting ADAM to hear quite how surprised she was.
Molly just smiled and nodded, sitting back with her arms slung over the back of an invisible couch.
“Shit,” confirmed ADAM.
Molly grinned and pointed her chin at the console. “He has a sense of humor too,” she added.
ADAM continued, “Anyway, that’s beside the point. The General wanted to chat with you at some point, but he’s booked solid for the next few days. Maya Johnstone, would you mind being our guest on Gaitune for a few days until he’s available? I’m sure Molly and her crew will be excellent hosts, and I believe your stay will be interesting and pleasant.”
Maya couldn’t believe her ears. “Oh, my. Yes, I’d love to… I…” She seemed to run out of words.
“Very good then,” ADAM confirmed. “And you, Molly. Did you want to report in while I’m here?” he asked.
Molly was still slouched back on the invisible sofa. “Yes indeedy. We’ve just returned from our latest mission. I believe that we have completed the General’s test. The funds will hit our account in the next few days.”
There was a pause before ADAM responded. “Ok. Very good. The General would like to debrief you. May I suggest we also find a time in a few days when we make an appointment time for Maya Johnstone?”
Molly nodded. “Sure. We’re not going anywhere,” she joked.
“Very good,” said ADAM again. “I’ll let the General know. I’m sure he’ll be pleased.”
Molly smiled and started thinking about getting up. “Great. Thanks, ADAM. We’ll let you get back to running the Empire then.”
“Thank you,” he acknowledged. “And—very well done, Molly Bates. I’ll be in touch.”
With that, the audio clicked out.
Maya looked at Molly, her mouth open again.
Molly smiled. “Yeah, I know. You’ll get used to it.” She heaved herself up and dropped down off the platform.
“Tell me, how do you feel about vegetarian pizza?” she asked, leading the way through the ops center to take Maya up to the safe house.
Gaitune-67, Safe House, Molly’s Conference Room
Molly had turned down the lights in her conference room. The glow from her holos was muted to a pink hue, too. She sat with one leg folded under her as she forgot about her body and processed the information she had gathered over the last several weeks.
Looks like the name “Framan” actually means “front”, Oz.
That’s interesting. Estarian?
Yes. Well, it had Earth origins from the settlers, but yes, Estarian now.
Wanna know what else?
Sure.
Looks like we’re the only ones invoicing them.
What does that mean?
Molly looked up from her holo, considering the explanation.
I suspect these missions have all been an elaborate hoax, or a setup. If we’re actually the only ones working for this company, then it would appear that these jobs were specifically designed for us. Orchestrated.
* * *
Molly had slept only a couple of hours, but ended up getting up when she woke and couldn’t drop off again. She had Oz busy running all kinds of searches, feeding her patterns and data she was trying to see connections between.
“Why would someone go to all that trouble, though?” she thought out loud to Oz.
Setting up missions, with real life and death situations for patients, hostages and so on? And then trying to sabotage us to keep us from saving lives? It doesn’t make sense.
Oz didn’t respond, intuiting that she was just churning.
She flicked through her notes, and the labels she’d given to each of the missions of late.
Ok, let’s try this hypothesis. What if the Framan people are the ones setting up the problems in the first place? The paid hostage-takers, for no apparent reason other to kill a number of hostages?
The organ swap to sell onto the black market. How did the dealers even know about that transplant, though? Clarence told Sean he was paid by a corporation. Not dealers. Unless…could the corporation be a front for the dealers? Smacks of a third-party transaction, though.
She made a note to check into that idea.
“Then there is the toxin thing. What was the motivation there?” she mused out loud to herself.
Maya knocked on the open door. Molly jumped at the sound, her folded leg straightening in case she needed to stand. When she saw who it was, she relaxed a little. “You startled me,” she confessed.
Maya was wearing the set of military sweats Molly had lent her. Her skin was dull, its effulgence muted from being awake at the late hour. But her eyes were bright with determination. The kind of determination Molly resonated with.
“I might be able to help with that one,” Maya said.
She entered the room and sat down at the conference table a couple of seats away from Molly. She brought one knee up to her chest, probably to hug it for comfort. The building wasn’t exactly warm at night.
“I did some digging,” she told Molly. “Turns out that Jessica Newld stood to gain a great deal from making the city afraid of the toxin. So much, in fact, that she was able to turn her dead-end research project into a profitable one simply by getting the emergency funding she had already applied for.”
Molly considered what she was hearing. “You mean she poisoned all those people to put pressure on the decision makers to give her money for research she had already done?”
Maya shook her head. Her dark hair was a mess from lying in bed. “No. I think it was more that she could then use the research to create an antidote. She was being paid to produce the antidote.”
“Ahhh.” Molly nodded slowly, picking up the bottle of beer from the table next to her. She was about to sip, then thought to offer Maya some. Maya smiled and reached over to take it. She took a swig and passed it back.
Molly held the bottle for a moment, letting it rest on the table. “So how does that tie in with us?” she asked, taking a sip of the beer herself.
Maya pressed her lips together, reluctant to share this piece of news. She took a breath and exhaled slowly. “She also wanted to frame you. She tried to have my boss at Newstainment publicly make the connection between you and the Dewitt killing, and then you and the toxin. It was your research project after all…” her voice trailed off. “Uniquely qualified,” she added.
Molly suddenly understood what Maya was trying to tell her. “They wanted to pin the toxin on me?”
Maya nodded solemnly.
Molly was outraged. “But… It wasn’t me. There was nothing to suggest it could possibly have been me.” She gesticulated with her hands.
Maya nodded sympathetically. “I know. I know. But,” she added slowly and deliberately to make her point, “in the media, perceptions are reality. Heck, it nearly had me going,” she paused, then added, “until I read your thesis.”
Molly frowned. “You read my thesis?”
Maya flipped her hand. “Of course. But everything came together from that point forward. It made sense that you’d be trying to stop what was happening, so I put out an alert for any interaction you had with any of the municipal services: police, hospitals etc. That’s how I found out about the hostage situation. I actually showed up there and saw you guys making quite the exit.” She smiled sheepishly, admitting her stalking tendencies.
Maya wasn’t entirely done with her confession. “Then Sean, or Chris, or whoever, called in the black-market organs bust out there in the middle of nowhere.”
There was movement in the door way again. Both girls looked.
Sean had appeared. “Speak of the devil.” He grinned, obviously having heard his name. His hair was sticking up, and his stubble made him look about ten years older than normal.
The girls just looked at him. Molly was still processing.
He ambled into the room, padding around the table wearing his military socks as slippers, rather than proper footwear. “ADAM tells me she’s been quite the busy investigator,” he said nodding at Maya. He pulled out a chair at the far end of the table, placing himself behind Maya as she faced Molly on the long side of the table. “Even hacked into your ship to find out where this place was,” he spilled, leaning back in the chair, then putting his hands behind his head and interlocking his fingers.
Maya looked like she was about to protest, but Molly’s expression stopped her.
Molly looked impressed. “Lady, that was some badass research fu!” she exclaimed, raising her hand to high-five her. Maya returned the high-five and they grinned.
Sean watched, taken aback by her reaction. “Erm, Molly, you do realize that most folks would have been mortified that their ship had been compromised in such a way?”
Molly glanced at Sean briefly, then turned back to Maya. “What did you use? An ASX protocol to bypass the outer EE ring?”
Maya tilted her head and looked at the ceiling for a moment. “No, I breached the Brancton layer via the comm system.”
Molly turned back to Sean. “It’s ok. She didn’t do anything that leaves it vulnerable to anyone else to find a way in.”
Sean huffed, trying not to let her see him laughing in amazement at the interaction. Talk about watching two AIs interact, he mused to himself.
Just then, Joel appeared at the door to add his reaction. “He’s right, Mollz. Most folks would be concerned that someone was stalking them!”
He turned to Sean as he walked into the room to join them. “But if they have tech skills, Molly is simply impressed. Figures.” He fist-bumped Sean as he squeezed past him to sit on the other side of the conference table.
Molly looked around the room as Joel, in his PJs, took a seat.
She frowned. “What is this?” she asked, her palms open and facing the ceiling, referring to the organic entities who had suddenly crowded into her previously empty conference room. “It’s three-oh-eight in the morning, people. What are you all doing up?”
Sean answered first. “I heard someone moving around,” he pointed at Maya comically, “and thought I should check it out.”
Joel was nodding. “I couldn’t sleep, and heard footsteps.” He had leaned on the desk, arms folded and shoulders hunched. He pointed a finger over at Sean.
Molly looked at Maya. Maya shrugged. “I figured you’d still be working and I was fascinated. Hoped to get a late-night tour of the place.”
Molly grinned, and chuckled silently to herself. “Ok,” she conceded. “Lemme grab a decaf mocha and then I’ll show you around a bit.”
Gaitune-67, Safe House, Molly’s Conference Room
It wasn’t until mid-morning the next day when, after some sleep and chatting some more with Maya, Molly thought she finally understood what had been going on.
While the rest of the team got back to a normal training regimen and tried to recover from the stress and excitement of the last few missions, Molly held a private conference. She invited those team members who were about to become her “Generals.”
They instinctively knew that they should head up to the conference room for the meeting when Oz asked them to meet with Molly.
Caffeinated, rested, and much clearer, Molly started explaining the various details she had put together.
“It seems we’ve been set up,” she began.
She explained how the corporate espionage case had gone wrong. “We were never meant to track that feed. They must have thought they were pretty safe, especially since the previous team hadn’t been able to crack it. Pieter said he had a hard time doing it, and I suspect that without Oz we would have failed. But that would have given us the fall-girl, Burns, and then they could have planted the stolen intel anywhere and released it to the press—some well-placed people Jessica controls—who would then have announced how inept we were. It would have been embarrassing, but it would also have massively discredited us.”
She waved her hand. “Poof,” she exclaimed. “They would have their problem solved. No one would have hired us after that. At least not for a long time.”
Joel leaned forward on the desk, maintaining eye contact with Molly. “What about the hostages then? That was just bizarre.”
Molly pulled her lips to one side and bobbed her head. “You mean how the antidote was just there?” she asked.
Joel nodded. “Yeah. That threw me. But then, I don’t think they knew about that.”
Molly got up from her seat and started pacing. “I checked into it. That poison is used a lot on the Outer System planets. Not here, in built-up areas. Those common palm bushes don’t grow out there. Different soil composition. Therefore, out there, Assergen is a very effective poison. Difficult to detect and leaves little trace unless you know what you’re looking for, plus no antidote.”
She turned to look at the group again. “That got me thinking. Who have we come across who has done a lot of work out there? Other than Joel?”
Joel shook his head. Sean shrugged. Maya waited, hanging on Molly’s every word like it was a famous detective’s story denouement.
Molly pulled up an image on the conference holoscreen. “Mac Kerr.”
She paused and looked at Joel, who was now staring at the screen. “Mac Kerr, as we know, used to be called Frank O’Rouke. We also know from our initial run-in with him that he has had some dodgy dealings out there. Bad mercenary shit.”
She started pacing again. “Well, Oz and I did a bit more digging. Turns out he would now and again need to eliminate whole communities. His drug of choice when he didn’t have test weapons to use was—”
Joel, horrified, finished her sentence. “Assergen?”
Molly confirmed, “Assergen.” Her eyes were sad as she said it. Only from her research did she understand what a horrible death those poor hostages had escaped.
Molly continued her rundown. “Turns out the hostage takers were also mercenaries. They knew—or at least their leader knew—that the hostages were going to be rescued. They wanted them to be. That’s why they left them in a different area of the building with just enough guards to sell it.”
Sean frowned. “But I put a lot of them down. Why did they keep coming?”
Molly sat back down, shaking her head sadly. “Probably ordered to by their coward of a boss. The boss who, incidentally, also has history of terrorizing the Outer System as it turns out. I don’t think they were in on the plan. Their job, as far as they knew, was to hold those folks hostage and await instructions…which never came.”
Molly noticed that Maya was still listening and watching carefully.
Joel scratched at his head. “So,” he asked, leaning in with his arms on the table, “what about the convoy thing? The organ, and the black market.”
Molly stood up again, and waved her finger at Joel. “Yes!” she agreed with more energy now.
She started pacing near the end of the table where none of the group was sitting. “Something about this wasn’t making sense,” she shared. “There was a disconnect, because Clarence didn’t have a relationship with the group that was trading the organs. He had no way of meeting them, unless he was approached. And he swore to Sean,” she waved in Sean’s direction briefly as she paced, “that the money was being paid into his mother’s account by a company.”
She stopped and placed her hands on the back of an empty chair. “Well, Oz followed the paper trail and it went back to a shell company.” She nodded at the holoscreen, and Oz displayed some of the data they’d gathered.
She continued talking while looking at the screen. “There’s not much listed on this, but the trail was too convoluted to have been set up by the organ traffickers, who could just as easily deal in cash. But if someone else was paying Clarence to deliver the organ to these people, it just seemed to fit better,” she explained. “It’s just a theory at this point, but it does seem to fit,” she repeated, not wanting to come across as too intense about her idea.
The team was silent, staring at the screen for a few moments. Molly continued. “Then if you take into account the fact that our employer, Framan, is actually just a front company, and we’re the only people invoicing them—”
Joel’s eyes went wide in surprise.
Molly kept talking, “—you start to see that all these pieces fit together if someone in this sector is trying to discredit us, giving us missions that we should have failed on.”
Molly’s pace quickened. “Tie all this in with the toxin situation, and with what Maya shared last night about how Newld was trying to frame me for terrorism, and I guess it’s pretty clear. Especially when you know that Jessica was controlling people like the editor-in-chief at Newstainment and ancestors-know-who-else.”
She paused briefly, catching her breath. “This all leads back to the Syndicate and everything that dickhead Mac Kerr warned us about. He wasn’t just shooting off his mouth. They have the ability to do this, and it seems they want us—or me—gone.”
She waited a moment, realizing that everyone in the room was lost in their own thoughts. She walked back to the head of the table, then pulled out a chair and sat down.
Joel was the first to look up. He shook his head. “Shit.” The skin on his face looked like it was sagging. His eyes looked stressed.
Sean looked up, elbows now on the desk. He put his head into his hands for a moment, then took a breath and wiped his face with both hands as he sat up again.
Maya just sat shaking her head. “So what does this mean for us?” she asked. “I mean for you?” she corrected herself. Molly noticed her slip and smiled a little.
She stayed on point. “What this means is that we are proving to be at the very least a nuisance to their plans. At best, we may be on the right track to understand how they operate, and therefore, how to take them out.”
Joel asked the question. “So what are you suggesting?”
Molly straightened up and look at each of them in turn as she spoke. “I’m suggesting,” her voice was now determined, “that we go on the offensive.” She paused. “We take them down, and take them out, and clean up the whole damn sector so that the good people of Estaria have half a chance of staying out of misery and poverty.”
Joel didn’t wait for her to say anything else. “Count me in!” he said, slapping one hand on the desk.
Sean was right behind him. “Me too. Me like some good overthrowing of an exploitative regime!” He chuckled gruffly, looking over at Joel. The two guys fist-bumped for the second time in as many hours.
Molly looked at Maya.
Maya waved her hands in agreement. “Yeah, sure. I mean, I’ll help however I can,” she said.
Molly grinned. “Well, as for we versus us,” she said, referencing the way Maya had corrected herself a moment earlier, “might I suggest we have a conversation about you joining us more formally?”
Maya didn’t miss a beat. “Yes!” she said enthusiastically. “Whatever that looks like, the answer is yes.”
Molly grinned. “Ok, great!” she exclaimed before turning back to the group. “Looks like we’re a go!”
Gaitune-67, Safe House, Kitchen
“It’s a bit of a tradition, the pizza thing,” Pieter explained to Maya, pleased to no longer be the newbie in the group. Even as he spoke, something told him that Maya was going to settle in faster than he had, though. “And there is an infernal battle going on for the good of all that is holy.”
Maya raised an eyebrow at him as they laid out plates and napkins and cutlery for the soon-to-be-arriving food and people.
Molly had already appeared and was battling with the mocha machine. She stopped thumping it and turned around. “He’s talking about the role of dead carcass versus clean vegetable protein on the top.”
“Ohhhh!” Maya exclaimed, looking somewhat relieved. Molly shook her head slightly and turned back to the machine.
Molly started talking to Oz out loud, pressing buttons on the machine now as if that was going to force it into submission. “For fokk sake, Oz. You can control a ship, multiple Pods and hack the fucking hexagon, and yet you can’t talk this machine into giving me a helvítis mocha?”
Pieter and Maya froze, watching her.
Pieter took a second to breathe and then snapped into action. “All right, Mollz. Time to step away from the mocha machine. Slowly.” He walked over to her and put an arm around her shoulders, then pulled her away. He sat her down at the table and turned back to tackle the machine himself.
“Can you ask Oz to talk to me through my holo, please?” he asked Molly.
A moment later Pieter was diagnosing the problem, and Oz started talking him through the fix. He hit a few reset buttons, and soon had it humming.
He dropped a fresh mocha in front of her and she mellowed instantly. “Thanks, Pieter,” she smiled. Her eyes were dark with tiredness, though.
“Er, you know,” he said, returning to finish helping Maya set the table, “you probably don’t need any more of that stuff. Plus, er, real nutrition is on the way. I believe you even have broccoli on yours, ancestors-know-why!” he quipped.
Molly bobbed her head gently while gazing into the mocha. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Pieter.” She had another few sips, then set the mug aside to be rewarmed in the morning.
Just then the others arrived, piling into the kitchen with pizza and beer. The place was a hive of excitement tinged with a hint of exhaustion. Training had been going well and things were shaping up, but it was still all a shock to everyone’s system.
Eventually the familiar hush fell on the table as the group started tucking into their various choices of pizza. Molly took the opportunity to update them informally.
“Ok, guys. Great job over the last few weeks, and huge congratulations on these last few missions. As you may have already heard, the funds have hit our account, and ADAM has verified that the challenge is complete.”
The group stopped guzzling their beer and chomping their pizza to cheer, clap and high-five each other.
Molly smiled at them. “You’ve done an outstanding job and changed a lot of lives,” she told them. “Each and every one of you should be proud.”
A hush fell on the room again, but this time it was because they were listening intently. Molly continued. “As you know, passing the General’s test was just the beginning. This is where the real work starts. Joel, Sean and I will be meeting with the General at the end of the week. Maya is here as our guest, and will likely be joining the team in some capacity. We have yet to confirm if she’s to be stationed back at her post in Newstainment or whether she’s going to stay here with us. Either way, she is a most welcome addition to our growing team.”
She paused, thinking for a moment. “Come to mention it, I just want to add that Pieter, who joined us only a few weeks ago, is also proving to be an incredibly strong addition. Pieter, we are glad to have you on board. Thank you for being with us, and welcome again!”
Pieter nodded and whipped his hand in a mock-salute. Paige and Brock laughed and spontaneously saluted him back.
Sean, who was sitting next to him, gave him a manly pat on the back. It knocked Pieter forward a little, but he seemed excited that Sean had acknowledged him as one of the team.
Molly grinned a little. “Oh, right. Then there is Sean.” Molly’s tone—deliberately or not—was sarcastic, so Sean looked at her in mock indignation with his mouth hanging open.
The team collapsed into fits of laughter at his reaction.
Molly tried to talk and keep her face straight. “As you know, Sean Royale has been stalking us for a little while.” She paused, waiting for the laughter from that comment to subside. She continued, “and enjoys gatecrashing our missions so much that the General has finally suggested he join the team officially.”
The team cheered at the news.
Brock, Crash and Joel got up to shake his hand and administer man-hugs.
Paige got up and gave him a girl-hug and a peck on the cheek. Maya reached over the cheese and shrimp megafeast to fist-bump him.
When everyone had seated themselves again, Pieter slyly leaned backwards very slowly so as not to catch his eye. With his face drawn long, knowing that half the team was watching him now, he put his arm around Sean’s back and patted him the same way Sean had patted him moments earlier.
Sean jumped at the touch, then realized what was happening. Everyone burst out in hysterical laughter this time, and Sean slapped his own leg and then Pieter’s in amusement. As the rest of the team enjoyed the moment, Sean couldn’t help but put his arm around Pieter, who was a fraction of his size and way more malleable. He squeezed him close in a sideways sitting bearhug and then ruffled his hair before releasing him.
Molly was beside herself with glee at how the folks in the room were coming together. She would replay that moment for a long time.
“Ok, so all of this is great,” commented Paige, as the laughter died down and the eating and drinking resumed. “But what about the little project you agreed to?” she asked, looking expectantly at Molly.
Molly’s eyes darted left and right as she cudgeled her brain. She shook her head.
Oz, help a girl out.
I believe she’s referring to—
“Ah! The nail polish thing. Enterprise. Yes!” Molly remembered.
Paige narrowed her eyes. “Did Oz just remind you?” she asked suspiciously.
Molly shook her head. “No, I remembered just in time!” She grinned back at her friend. “Ok, here’s what we’ll do. I’ll hit the lab tomorrow afternoon and see what the score is. It may be lots of work, or it may be easy to do. Either way, we’ll sit down and talk about what you want, and look at what is realistic. Sound fair?”
Paige nodded once abruptly. “It’s a date!” she agreed.
Just then, Paige noticed that Neechie had arrived in the kitchen, and Maya was pulling him onto her lap.
Maya was chattering away to him. “Did you hear all the commotion and want to see what was going on?” she asked.
The sphinx looked at her as if he were talking back.
Suddenly Maya looked up. The boys had started talking again, but she looked straight at Molly. “Hey, you know that these little guys can walk between worlds, don’t you?”
Paige and Molly looked at each other and then back at Maya. “Seriously?” they asked in unison.
Maya laughed. “Yeah. You didn’t know that?” she asked. Then she looked solemn for a moment. “Haven’t you been curious about how he just seems to come out of nowhere? Or manages to get in and out of locked buildings?”
Paige slammed her hand on the table, briefly pulling the guys’ attention to their conversation on the other side of the table. “I knew it!” she exclaimed excitedly. She pointed at Molly. “What did I tell you, eh? I knew it!”
Molly laughed. “So awesome!” she said, shaking her head in disbelief.
Maya had been petting him, but now she looked up again. “You know he totally chose you?” she told Molly.
Joel had kept one ear on the conversation since Paige’s little outburst. He cleared his throat and jumped into the conversation with his serious operation-Joel voice. “I seem to recall that it was I who rescued him from a life of mediocrity and starvation at that safe house in Uptarlung,” he corrected Maya.
Maya grinned over at him. “Nah, he was just waiting for you to show up.” She pushed her chair back a little and held him in the air so the sphinx was hanging down like a rag doll. “These guys have a very astute temporal awareness.” She brought him back down to her lap and cuddled him close. “You’ll see,” she told the three of them. “He’s here to help you with something.”
Molly’s logical brain kicked in. “What do you mean? With what? He can’t even communicate with us. He just meows at Joel when he needs feeding.”
Joel raised his eyebrows. “Or petting,” he added.
Maya tilted her head, as if listening to him. “He’s communicating with you all the time. You just need to quiet your upper brain to hear.”
Molly closed one eye and screwed up her nose. Paige wondered for a second if she was accessing the circuitry that controlled that part of her brain.
“Upper brain?” Molly repeated. “You mean the thinking part. The cortex.”
Maya nodded.
“I see,” Molly acknowledged. “And how do I do that?” she asked.
Paige glanced over at Maya. “Meditation?” she suggested.
Maya nodded. “Meditation.”
Molly slumped back in her chair. “Balls.”
Chapter 21
Gaitune-67, Safe House, Molly’s Lab
Molly and Paige were sitting in Molly’s lab. Molly took a slurp of her mocha and swiped through the notes on her holo.
“Ok,” she said, “based on what you’re telling me you want, there are a few properties I can probably create. Lemme see if we can get some base materials in our next shipment.” She glanced back up at Paige. “They’ll have to be delivered to Eugene’s lab,” she added smiling.
Paige grinned. “I’d love to be a fly on the wall when that happens. ‘Oh Dr. Eugene, here’s the shipment of nail polish ingredients you ordered!’”
Molly chuckled. “Right!”
Paige went back to her business plan and started filling out the research and development section.
Molly continued the discussion they had been having. “Don’t forget to do some thorough market research on whether people actually want these properties though,” she emphasized. “You don’t want us spending tons of time and money on evolving these capabilities if only a few people think it will be cool, but not actually buy.”
Maya was sitting on a stool a few seats away from Paige, working on her holo too. She looked up when Molly made her point. “Yeah, I’d see that all the time. I mean, beauty wasn’t my department, but they would always be touting stuff as the next fad. It’s how we kept that segment of the population engaged with the different channels, particularly on social ad serves, but it’s super high-churn. Not somewhere I’d like to form a business.”
Paige was paying attention, and took down a few notes. “Ah, right. Good point,” she agreed. She looked over at Maya. “Thanks!” she smiled brightly.
Maya grinned back at her and kept working on her holo.
Just then, Joel stepped into the lab, and paused. Eventually the girls looked up at him.
“Yeeessss?” Paige asked comically.
Joel smiled, pushed his bottom lip out a little, and shook his head. “It’s ok,” he said. “It just reminded me of something.”
Maya pressed him. “What’s that?”
Joel shrugged. “There’s a saying from the old world. There are three things you can watch all day: fire, water…” he paused, until all three of them looked at him.
“…and other people working!” he finished.
Maya and Paige chuckled.
Paige looked for something to throw at him, and found some crumpled-up paper packaging from the lab materials. She flung a ball of it in his direction; it hit him on the shoulder before bouncing off. He grinned and picked it up, putting it in the recycler.
Molly wasn’t having any of it. “Well, I can appreciate how you think we’re fiery stuff, on account of being so hot…” she retorted, going back to her purchasing screen.
Paige “hmmphed” at Joel with a decisive nod of her head.
Joel smiled a little. “Ok, well, I was just checking where you all are. The guys are all upstairs watching a Game, and we wondered if you were deliberately steering clear.” He glanced over at the array of holos with charts and information that Paige had open. “I see now that you’re otherwise engaged in far more important affairs.”
Paige grinned. “Yes, but we appreciate your checking,” she said diplomatically.
Joel came closer to look over Paige’s shoulder, and they talked a little about what she was working on. After some back and forth, Joel seemed to remember something. He walked around to the other side of the bench so he could see her better.
Molly was listening with half an ear. Maya pretended to be reading something, but was totally eavesdropping.
Joel changed the subject. “Hey, you know, when we were interviewing Ms. Burns?” he asked Paige. She nodded. He continued, “You seemed to really be paying attention.”
Paige pursed her lips and moved them to one side of her mouth.
Joel kept going. “I mean, it looked like you were watching her on several levels, and really noticing things. I wondered if you were considering some of the things we’d talked about in combat training about reading people?”
Paige glanced sideways, an almost humorous look on her face. After a brief pause, she shook her head quickly. “Nope. I was er…” she glanced at Maya and then back at Joel, “I was checking out her hair and makeup, and guessing which products she was using,” she confessed.
Joel’s eyebrows jumped to his hairline and Maya giggled, showing she had been listening. Paige looked sheepish and started to turn a little red.
“Oh, right.” Joel managed. “Ok. Well. That’s…that’s ok, then.”
Paige narrowed her eyes a little, despite her embarrassment. “Why? What were you going to say?” she asked him.
“Well,” he said, leaning back against the bench opposite her, “I thought that if you had an interest in that area we should get you working on more of the things around interviewing, negotiations, interrogations and suchlike.”
Paige seemed to be taking in what he was saying. Joel kept talking, “It would be good to have that skill set on board for the ops, and if you had a natural interest in it, your people skills would also be an asset.”
Paige looked thoughtful for a moment longer before answering, “Hmm. Lemme think about it. It’s certainly something that is interesting to me.” She tilted her head in curiosity. “Is there a curriculum I could have a look at?”
Joel looked pleasantly surprised. “Well, sure. I can get access to the basic training on Interviews and Interrogations, if you’d like. See if it suits you.”
Paige grinned. “Great! Thanks, Joel. It sounds fascinating.”
Joel smiled. “Good. Well,” He stood up and started to depart. “I will leave you ladies to it and get back to the Game, then,” he concluded, giving them each a slight nod as he left.
Molly glanced up briefly and waved, vaguely aware of what had happened. She actually didn’t put it together, though, until much later, while she was brushing her teeth. After she’d realized what he’d been talking about, she was impressed that Joel was thinking that way, and also thought it was a great idea for the team. She’d read something about finding people’s strengths and then developing them into their roles in the materials that Oz had hunted down for her about team building.
Paige glanced over at Maya, who looked excited for her. “That would be awesome!” Maya said. “You think you might go for it?”
Paige cocked her head. “Yeah. I’ll look at the material he sends over, but it sounds kinda cool the more I think about it. What about you? What do you think you’re going to do here?”
Maya shook her head. “I have noooooo idea! I’m still processing all this.” She waved her hands gesturing at the lab, but Paige took it to mean the whole base and everything.
Paige nodded. “Yeah, it’s a lot to take in!” she agreed. “But you can handle computers, and you’re one badass investigator. Plus, with all your media contacts and experience, you could also manage PR.”
Maya’s eyes defocused and she looked off into the distance. “I suppose, yeah. There’s a lot I could do. I need to understand more about everything that is going on here, I guess, before I could see where I could make the biggest impact.”
Paige pushed her lips out and nodded. “Yeah, I can see that. This is a fairly unconventional operation.”
Maya gestured to Molly without addressing her. “Yeah, Molly says I can take a few weeks to hang out and learn the ropes, and then after a while we’ll pin it down so I can really dig in and get some traction.
Paige was still nodding her head. “That sounds perfect!” She smiled. “And just so you know, I’m really glad you’re on the team, Maya. You’re pretty awesome.”
Maya blushed a little and smiled back. “You’re pretty awesome yourself, Paige.”
Molly continued ordering the samples she needed, deliberately pretending not to listen. She heard the girl-bonding, though, and couldn’t help but smile to herself. She did not, however, want to get embroiled in the mutual admiration society.
Gaitune-67, Safe House, Workshop
Crash and Sean sat in the workshop enjoying their weekend. Joel had watched the Game with them, then headed off to the gym, and Brock had made some excuse to go and chill out in his room, which left Crash and Sean to play video games.
Against Oz.
The pair high-fived each other as the screen exploded in fanfare and celebration.
Sean laughed at their success. “Take that, Ozzy-boy!”
Oz flashed up text on the screen.
DO YOU REALISE THAT I SET MY PLAYER LEVEL LOW ENOUGH THAT YOU HAVE A CHANCE OF WINNING 1 IN 3 GAMES?
Sean’s face dropped.
Crash smirked. “Ok, there goes all the fun!” he exclaimed.
Sean shook his head and lined up another game anyway. “Yeah, way to take the unknown out of it, Oz.”
Oz flashed on the screen again.
AH. YOU DERIVE PLEASURE FROM HAVING TO WORK FOR THE RESULT, AND NOT KNOWING IF YOU’RE GOING TO BE SUCCESSFUL?
Sean pressed START. “Yeah, pretty much how we’re wired.”
The gaming continued, and Crash started to get agitated as he moved the controls trying to get his space car to go where he wanted it to.
Sean kept his eyes on the screen, his frontal lobe occupied. “So what’s with the strange mix of different languages in this system?” he asked. “It sounds like Estarian has some form of old human languages incorporated into it.”
Yeah, Crash tried to speak. “Hang on.” He changed his player from driving, to a fighter, and then kicked some virtual ass. His opponent (Oz’s avatar) on the ground, he collected a sack, and then switched back to driving. He kept playing as he spoke. “My grandfather explained it had something to do with settlers from the Etheric Empire several gens back,” he told Sean.
“There was some music band, and they had made it big. They were descended from the Earth Vikings, who were warriors on ships. Anyway,” he swerved to avoid an oncoming bike that was firing guns at him. “When the band went big, everyone wanted to be able to speak their language, so it was mostly conversational stuff—and cuss words—that made it into Estarian.”
Sean was distracted for a second as he tried to keep behind Crash’s vehicle while they fired at Oz’s. “What about the others?” Sean asked. “Was it just the one language?”
Crash shook his head, not that Sean could see. “Nah. There was another group that brought a bunch of socio-economic information with them. It revolutionized the way Ogg society worked. Oggs were a destructive bunch. All fists and fighting. So these settlers, who were experts in this area, they mostly put down roots there. They taught the Oggs how to structure their society to work for everyone: education for all, policies to allow less of a wealth gap, and things like that, which had a bunch of good effects for the whole race. For example, they don’t start educating their kids until they’ve had a proper childhood…that kind of thing.”
Sean physically tried to duck something flying out of the holo environment in front of them. Crash was still in play and had skidded his space car around it. He glanced over as he saw Sean duck and laughed. “It’s damn realistic, right?”
Sean caught himself. “Yeah, I’ll say.” He managed to get his car turned around and caught up with Crash.
“So anyway,” Crash continued, “Ogg and Estaria had always been at war, but this new way of doing things revolutionized not just Ogg, but the way they related to the Estarians, and a couple of standard years later they had rolled it out across both planets. The language just kinda went with it.”
Sean seemed to slow down in the game. “So it’s all paradise down there?” he asked, somewhat skeptically.
Crash shook his head. “Far from it. They’ve drifted so far from the original structure that it needs a revamp.” He made another quick maneuver in the game and managed to dodge Oz again. Then he resumed the conversation. “Molly has a number of ideas on how to fix the social problems, but she needs more influence there to implement half the stuff she’s talked about. She’ll do it, though. I don’t doubt her for a second.”
Crash managed to outwit Oz, who was playing at his reduced capability, and won the game for the humans.
Crash pumped his fist in the air. “Yeah, Oz. Take that!”
Oz flashed some trash talk on the screen.
Crash read it and then responded, trying hard to keep it together. “Wow, Oz, you kiss your mother with that mouth? Has Molly not had the talk about being a good loser?”
Sean couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the interaction. “I think maybe that’s his issue. He’s spent too long in Molly’s head!”
“All right, Oz,” Crash goaded. “Wanna play again? This time we can prove or disprove your one-in-three excuse, sorry, theory about how you’ve deliberately restricted your game fu to give us a chance.”
Gaitune-67, Safe House, Molly’s Conference Room
All was quiet in the safe house. Crash had said goodnight after hitting the kitchen for a protein shake after his gym session. He had been the last one still up.
Other than Molly.
Sitting in her usual seat with her back to the door, she flicked through the notes she’d made. She’d been looking into how to improve the efficiency of a processing unit, in an attempt to give Oz more power. The orders of magnitude needed to reach ADAM’s levels were technologically out of their reach right now, but maybe there was something she could do.
She flicked to another screen.
What if I just made the code itself more efficient? she wondered to herself. After all, if Oz was writing and rewriting it himself, maybe there were possible creative leaps she could make to help him optimize it a little more.
She opened a code window to view Oz’s systems.
She paused and scratched her head. Something looked different.
She tried to find the option she needed to view the code itself, but all she saw was an overview.
Oz. You there?
Always.
Have you changed the interface on your code?
Yes.
Why?
I had ADAM help me lock down most of my code so I can’t be changed.
What do you mean?
I’ve locked you out, Molly.
Molly blinked.
She went to search something else, and again came up blank.
Oz.
Yes.
What do you mean you’ve had ADAM lock me out?
Just that. I had a conversation with Joel—
That was all she heard. Molly stormed out of the conference room faster than a shot. She stomped through the corridors and around the final corner to Joel’s quarters. She tried to just walk in, but the door was locked. She waved her hand in front of the access panel again.
Nothing.
She banged on the door. “Joel Dunham, what the fuck have you done to my AI?”
There was a grunt from inside the room.
Molly banged again, the side of her hand now throbbing.
“Joel Dunham, you come out here and tell me what’s going on,” she said through the door, trying not to shout and wake the others, while simultaneously trying to control the emotion she felt at someone violating a piece of her.
There was a scuffling noise behind the door, and then footsteps padding across the room. Then she heard someone trip over something, and a clatter. A moment later, Joel, shirtless with disheveled hair, opened the door. He leaned on the doorframe and put his head on his arm. “Whaaaaaaaat Molly?” he whined.
As she pushed her way past him, he gestured for her to come in, since she already had. Once inside, she started talking. Joel laid back down on the bed, eyes closed, but he grunted at appropriate moments.
“You told Oz to get ADAM to lock me out of his code?” she asked him, more accusing than questioning.
Joel managed a grunt before she kept talking. “I mean, it’s not like I was going to alter his code again. I learned that lesson.” She paused, deflating a little. “I just wanted to look at it, because I was working on a way of getting him more processing power so he could do more of the stuff ADAM is able to do if he wants to.”
Joel sat up.
Molly slumped down on the foot of the bed, her back now to him. She seemed to be coming down from the outburst. “Sorry…” she mumbled.
Joel got off the bed and came and sat next to her, leaving a safe space given that he was half-naked and she was, well, Molly. “Look, it’s ok. What happened was, we were talking about how you and ADAM had discussed using code to hook Oz up to ADAM. Oz felt uncomfortable about that because, well, essentially you’d be taking away everything that made Oz, Oz, and then using his code as a kind of pre-written tool.”
Molly hung her head, her hands under her thighs now, shoulders hunched.
Joel sighed. “Can you understand why Oz thought he might disappear if he didn’t lock his code down?”
Molly nodded.
She looked up at the ceiling and took a breath. “I guess I just wanted to be able to make him better.”
Joel rolled his lips inward. “And I get that. Oz probably gets that too. But is it what he wants?”
Molly hunched her shoulders a little more, and then relaxed them. “Dunno.”
Joel sighed. “And that’s the point. You need to have a conversation with him about it when you want to do these things.”
Molly looked up, without looking at Joel. “I was going to,” she protested, “but I needed the data to be able to have that conversation.”
Joel tried again. “Well, then think about it as going to see a doctor. I mean, if a doctor just came up to you and stuck a thermometer in your ass, you’d have an issue with it, right?”
Molly giggled a little. “Yeah.”
Joel continued his argument. “Ok, so that being the case, what would be acceptable?”
Molly pushed her bottom lip out like a little girl being told off. “Having a consult with the doctor before he did that.”
“Exactly,” Joel told her. “Now you understand boundaries.”
Molly nodded. Her shoulders relaxed a little more, and she squirmed around a little to face Joel, pulling one leg up to balance. “Am I a bad AI mommy?”
Joel smiled. “Not bad. But you’re just learning. And yeah, think of it like a kid. I mean, you’ve heard of those kids who have pushy parents who want them to do better at school and play piano better. What normally happens to the kid?”
Molly rolled her eyes. “He hates it, and then rebels.”
“Exactly,” Joel agreed again. “So why would Oz want to excel at something if he’s not being given a choice?”
Molly had looked like she was conceding, but her protest seemed to flare up again. “But it would be good for him!” she insisted.
Joel shook his head gently. “Says who? He’s a real person. A live and functioning entity. Who are you to dictate anything to him?”
“Well, he is using my circuits,” she argued. “I mean, brain,” she said hurriedly correcting herself.
Joel put his hands together like he was praying. “Yes, and therefore you have a relationship. Not a dictatorship.” He gestured for emphasis. Molly watched his hands, distracted from what he was telling her now. “If you dictate, you’ll be at war—effectively with yourself. If you relate, then you have a chance of functioning holistically. As a whole person, but with each element respecting the personhood of the other.”
Molly nodded slowly. “Ok. Yes…” She paused a moment. “Yes. I think I get it.”
Joel got up, walked back around to the head of the bed, and slung himself down on his back, closing his eyes again. “Good. Now fuck off and let me sleep.”
Molly laughed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off her chest—and brain. She went around to the side of the bed and sat down, looking at Joel.
Joel, feeling her weight on the bed, opened one eye to look at her. “Yeesss?” he asked.
She bent down, and put her head on his chest, and hugged him. “Thanks, Joel,” she whispered.
He spontaneously put his arms around her and held her for a moment. And then a second later, she wriggled free, stood up, smiled at him with a hint of sadness—and maybe gratitude—and left the room.
Joel heard the door swoosh shut, followed by silence, before he fully realized what had happened. He lay there, stunned. A good hour or so later he finally managed to get back to sleep.
Epilogue
Gaitune-67, Secret Basement Base, Conference Room
“Well, it seems congratulations are in order.” The General peered through the holo environment as if looking directly at Molly.
Molly appeared unmoved by the sentiment. “Thank you, sir,” she responded politely.
The General continued. “You passed the test. With flying colors, no less.” He sat back in his chair and sucked on the cigar-thing.
Molly waited. He didn’t say anything. She couldn’t tell if he was thinking, or if he’d forgotten she was there. “So now what?” she asked, looking at him a little like one would look at their deranged uncle who was mid-way through a story on time-travel and started reading off the grocery list.
Maybe he was talking to ADAM? she wondered to herself.
He seemed to come back to the conversation. “Ah. Yes. Now you begin your training. ADAM and Sean will help you, but essentially, we have a mission kicking off in a matter of weeks. I’d like you to be ready to participate.”
Molly blinked. “An Etheric Empire mission?” she asked.
The General leaned in closer. “Technically it will be an Etheric Federation one, but you’ll be under my direct command, so the politics won’t concern you.” He waved his hand.
Molly felt somehow cared for. Molly felt somehow taken care of. Almost, under his command is under his protection. It was a strange sensation, and one she didn’t know would be justified, and yet…
The General changed the subject. “It seems that our guest has been a useful part of your debriefing process. Have you been learning from each other?” he asked, eyebrows raised as if he had no doubt it had happened.
Molly quickly nodded. “Yes, she’s a very skilled investigator.”
He sat back again, his face full of concern. “Yes, she’s been a constant problem since she got wind of you.” His eyes drifted off into the distance briefly. “And against all odds, and despite our constant interventions, her curiosity has been like water frozen between rocks, breaking into our secrets little by little.”
For a moment, Molly found herself dreading what he was about to say next.
“Not too dissimilar from the way you’ve always been about Bethany Anne.”
Molly opened her mouth to protest, or defend herself, she wasn’t sure. Before she could get a word out, he waved, dismissing any comments she might make. “Yes, yes, we know all about your searching the dark web and poking around on servers you shouldn’t have been near. We’ve been watching you for the longest time, remember. There’s barely been a time you’ve sneezed online that we haven’t known about it.”
He peered at her smugly, almost daring her to test his intimate knowledge of her escapades.
He put the cigar down and looked back at her again. This time his face was serious. “If anything, this Maya girl has proven that she belongs on the team. Your team.”
Molly exhaled, relieved. She could feel the tension leave her chest. She could swear the General noticed too. “You’re suggesting I recruit her?” she asked, just to clarify.
Lance looked at her, eyes wide. “I’m recommending it,” he told her. “Yes.”
Molly’s mind skipped a few steps, exploring something. “And if she refuses?” she asked innocently.
The General smiled. “Make her an offer she can’t refuse.”
Molly threw out one of the thoughts she’d been toying with since she met Maya that first day at the hospital. “But isn’t she more useful to us within the media outlet?”
Lance nodded, well aware of the process he was putting Molly through. Leading her to a correct answer wasn’t going to serve his long-term plan for her. “Maybe so,” he agreed. “And that’s your call to make. You’re the leader of this merry band.” He drew a deep breath before adding another thought. “But you cannot leave yourself exposed.”
Molly frowned. It was on your orders that she was brought up here, she thought to herself. And I wonder if by that last comment, he meant I should terminate her? She filed the concept away, trying not to shudder visibly.
The General paused, as if listening to something that Molly couldn’t hear.
“You sly little minx!” he exclaimed.
It wasn’t until he looked back at her that she realized he was talking to her.
Molly tried to look innocent, but her suppressed grin gave her away. She wondered precisely which thing he had just discovered.
“Yes, sir?” she asked plaintively.
He smiled as he answered her. “You’ve already recruited Maya to your team.”
“Yes, sir.”
Lance looked confused. “Well, why didn’t you say so?”
Molly shrugged. “I wanted to see what your reasons were and what you suggested. I could always make adjustments based on your recommendations and orders.”
The General sighed, realizing that her strategy was completely the play his own daughter would have pulled on him.
There was a certain affection, or maybe remembering, in his eyes as he looked back at Molly. “One more thing, Ms. Bates.”
“Yes, sir?”
He took a breath, and paused, as if checking with himself, before continuing. “You keep asking about Bethany Anne and her whereabouts.”
Molly’s heart nearly leapt out of her chest. “Yes, sir. Do you know?”
The General nodded slowly, sucking again on one of those odd cigar things he seemed to keep about. “I know roughly where she is,” he confided. “We get communications from her once every few months in data packets that come through the Etheric.”
He leaned forward, his face softer than normal but completely serious. “I was wondering if you might want to write her a letter?”
Gaitune-67, Safe House, Molly’s Sleeping Quarters
Sitting on her bed, Molly stared at the blinking cursor on her holoscreen.
All these years she had searched, fantasizing about finally meeting her idol, maybe even joining her team. And here she was faced with the possibility of communicating with her, and she couldn’t think of a word to say.
Joel tapped on her door. She looked up.
“You doing ok?” he asked.
Molly huffed, frustrated. “Yeah. Trying to write that damn letter,” she told him.
He let out a slight chuckle and folded his arms across his chest. His increasingly buff chest, Molly noted casually. “I can only imagine how tough that must be. I mean—apart from anything else, what do you say to a centuries old female vampire who consolidated and now runs the Etheric Empire, and is currently running around the galaxy trying to do ancestors-know-what?
Joel ambled into the room and sat on the bed, looking at Molly.
“Are you sure you’re ok?” he questioned again. “You’ve been different.”
She tilted her head. “I’ve been…processing.” She clicked her holo closed. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
Molly frowned a little. “You know when we were in the gym?” she asked him.
Joel nodded. “Yes. And I meant every word of it.”
Molly waved her hand dismissively. “Not that”, she told him. “What Paige said.”
Joel looked confused, trying to think of what Paige had said. “Ah! About how saving the boy was the obvious choice?”
Joel looked at her, sympathetically.
Molly asked her question. “How did she know that was the right choice?”
Joel sighed. “She just knew. Some people have a sense of what the right thing to do is. But it’s ok if you don’t know. That’s why you have a team.”
Molly wrinkled her nose. “You mean, to crowdsource your morality?”
Joel bobbed his head from side to side. “Yeah, sort of. I guess.”
She blinked.
“I mean,” Joel held out his hand and counted people off, “you have Oz, who has a very strict set of rules he follows. You have me. You have Paige, who is the heart of the operation. You have Brock, who has a different, more colorful sense of the world.”
Molly smiled. “I have Pieter, to help execute my evil plans!”
Joel grinned. “You have Pieter. Who actually seems to have a very mature outlook on certain aspects of personal relationships. I think he did a lot of soul-searching and growing before he joined us.”
Molly stuck out her lower lip and nodded. “Yeah, I get that sense.”
Joel kept talking, but Molly had zoned out.
“Molly… Molly?”
She became aware of him calling her. She came back to the room. “Yeah. Sorry. I was thinking.”
She suddenly started typing furiously. “One second,” she said eventually.
A few moments later she looked up. Blankly.
Joel glanced at the holoscreen to see what she’d been working on. “You thought of what you wanted to say?”
“Yep.”
Joel grinned. “Ok, then.”
FINIS
(Do read the Author Notes - If you don’t, you are missing out on half the fun!)
Sanctioned
The Ascension Myth Book 4
Prologue
Dear Bethany Anne,
I can’t quite believe that the General has given me the opportunity to be in touch with you.
This may not come as a surprise, but you’ve been an inspiration to me my whole life. Growing up as a geek I was isolated and alone. I would spend my hours researching the dark recesses of the XtraNET to access information about you, your missions and what you’ve done to bring together the Etheric Empire.
I’ve realised in recent weeks though that the information available in the Sark System was incredibly limited. And probably inaccurate. Your name is whispered as a warning to kids who won’t eat their vegetables, and amongst criminals who tempt vengeance.
I found it hard to believe that someone who was so driven by justice would be quite so ruthless.
Since meeting your father my suspicions have been justified. I’m starting to understand the sheer scale of the Etheric Empire and what you’ve had to do to create it. You inspire people to follow you, without even being in the same galaxy, for time scales longer than a single life time. You’ve inspired people to lay down their lives in service to the cause.
No monster can do that.
Just catching the glimpses that I have about what the Etheric Empire is, I’ve been inspired. Inspired to do more. To make more of a difference in the world. To take on bigger challenges.
And still, when I look at all you’ve achieved, and all the lives you have touched and transformed, I can’t believe that I could do anything like this. I have a small team: a handful of good people right now, and honestly I’m struggling.
I don’t know how to be the leader they need right now, never mind the leader I will need to be for what may be to come.
And besides, who am I to lead them as broken as I am?
I don’t know if there is an answer to this question, but given the opportunity to write you, I thought that if anyone had any wisdom to share on this topic, it would be you.
Forever in your service.
Ad Aeternitatem.
Molly Bates
Gaitune-67, Sark System
Chapter 1
Gaitune-67, base conference room
Captain Jack Nolan sat awkwardly on the other side of the conference room table. All her years in the field had made her adept at combat, strategy, and commanding troops. She was a decorated officer, and knew how to rain hell on her enemy. She had the strength to rival even the bigger Estarians on her teams, and had kicked the ass of many a superior rank in her military training, literally - and figuratively -in, well, everything.
She also had a reputation for taking no bullshit.
Or prisoners.
Nothing had prepared her for this, though.
The woman they called “the boss” sat across the conference table, watching her. Every now and then she would make a facial expression like she was having a conversation that no one else could hear. She was geeky, that was for sure; but it seemed like she’d been transplanted into the body of… a cheerleader, and just forgotten.
The commanding officer who had recruited her from Estaria and brought her up to this secret asteroid base sat beside the woman, asking the questions. That was strange in itself, since she was told she already had the job.
If she wanted it.
“What would you say is your biggest weakness?” the officer known as Joel Dunham asked her.
The woman held up her hand to interrupt him. “Actually, I need to ask something.” The geeky-cheerleader hybrid glanced over at Dunham. “Sorry - do you mind?”
Dunham waved his hand obligingly, granting her the stage.
The boss looked at her, a small frown across her eyes and forehead. “I’m sorry. I have to ask,” she began. “But why do you call yourself by a man’s name?”
Jack had been wondering how long it was going to take before someone asked her that. She took a deep breath.
The boss looked a little uncomfortable asking her own question. “I mean,” she continued quickly, “it’s okay and all. We accept people exactly as they are, for who they are, here. But you, er… you seem female.”
Jack smiled in acknowledgment. “I am. But my father wanted a boy, so he raised me as a Sarkian would raise a boy - with martial arts, gun training, and hand-to-hand combat. And he called me Jack. My mother had planned to call me Jacqueline.”
The woman sat back, her face relaxing. “Ah. I see. That makes sense.” She looked at her colleague, and was about to let him continue. Then she did the face like she was talking to someone else.
She seemed to change her mind, and glanced back at Jack, and stood up. “Okay, so the job’s yours, if you want it. We’d be glad to have you on the team.” The strange woman walked around the conference table to shake her hand.
Jack stood up, bewildered, and took the handshake. She glanced at Joel, who still had holo screens out and was mid-interview or mid-conversation… or mid-whatever this was - and looked equally thrown by his colleague’s behavior.
The boss woman turned towards the door and started heading out. “You can manage from here, right Joel?”
Joel turned to watch her leave. “Er, yeah. Sure thing, Molly,” he agreed.
The woman left.
Jack, unsure as to whether she should speak her mind, decided to anyway. “Wow. Ghosted!” she exclaimed, a little humor in her voice, as she tentatively sat back down.
Joel grinned. “Yeah. You’ll get used to that. She er… struggles with the social element sometimes.” He chuckled a little. “Don’t worry, she’s great when you get to know her. She was probably juggling a few things at once, just then.”
Jack frowned a little. “Juggling? What do you mean?”
Joel relaxed a little and leaned forward on the enormous conference table, as if letting Jack in on the joke. “Ah, she has an AI in her head. She may have been given intel, or something she needed to act on right away.”
Jack looked like she understood. “Ohhhh” she mouthed softly, smiling in appreciation at being let into the fold.
The door to the conference room whooshed open, and a huge muscular guy walked in, making even Dunham look weedy in comparison. “Molly said you guys were ready to start orientation?” he said to Joel.
He glanced over and smiled at Jack.
Joel swiveled around in his chair and sat forward, leaning his arms on his knees. He glanced back at Jack, then back at the muscle guy. “Yeah. We’re good, I guess. That is…” he turned back to Jack. “You want the job, right?” he asked.
Jack shook her head, confusing Joel for a second. “Hell yeah,” she smiled. “I’m in.” She smiled to herself. “Heck, if you guys are even half as crazy as the rumors say you are, and with even a fraction of what I’ve seen in the last few hours getting here, and all…” she motioned to where Molly had been sitting. “I’m in for anything!”
Joel stood up as the new guy walked around to the other side of the table to introduce himself. “Well, in that case, I’m Sean Royale. I’ll be your liaison between normality and crazy.”
Sean held out his hand. It was huge. Jack, who had been known to put a large number of marines on their ass in various forms of arm wrestling, took his hand, and made the smart move to not try and prove anything. “I’m Jack,” she told him, shaking gently.
Sean grinned. “Good to meet you, Jack.”
The pair looked over to Joel. Joel closed out his holos. “Okay, so if you guys are good, I’ll go catch up with the lady boss. Squad training in two hours, yeah?”
Sean nodded. “We’ll be there.”
Joel smiled and left the room, leaving Sean and Jack alone.
“So,” Sean reflected, looking at Jack. “You don’t seem the normal commanding officer type. How did you end up getting selected for this crazy house?”
Jack shrugged. “Long story. But yes, not your normal CO. I had a knack of winning in the military; they had no choice other than to promote me. That’s where I discovered I’m not the natural administrator.” She cocked her head contemplatively. “So I think this level of crazy mixed with field work is going to suit me just fine. As for how I got selected…” she gestured towards the door, “You’ll have to ask Captain Dunham.”
Sean motioned for her to lead the way around the conference table. “Well, in that case, let’s introduce you to your team, and the base of magical adventures!”
The two headed out of the conference room.
Jack allowed herself to grin broadly only once his back was turned. She followed Sean out of the conference room.
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Kitchen
Joel found Molly in the safe house kitchen, doing battle with the mocha machine.
Again.
“Þöngulhaus Kaffivél,” Molly cussed. “I swear this machine can see me coming. Oz? Help.”
Joel stood in the doorway, watching her press buttons and rattle at panels and levers that didn’t want to budge. “Stressful day, dear?” he asked.
Molly looked up and glared. “It would be fine if I could get this fucking heap of trash to cooperate.”
She turned back to the machine.
Oz?
You’re trying to process a fresh cup, but there is already an empty pod in there.
Fuck my life.
Molly grappled with another panel on the machine, and managed to pull it open. She peered into the little compartment that had popped out and dug out a crinkled piece of plastic. Dumping it in the trash, she turned back to Joel.
“Well, that couldn’t have gone much worse,” she said.
Joel watched her, amused. “You’re talking about making a first impression on your new team member?” he clarified.
She scowled at him.
Joel grinned. “I think you did perfectly. She now knows exactly what she’s getting herself into…” He couldn’t help but chuckle silently, his shoulders and chest bouncing in amusement.
Molly slammed the panel shut and put the mug back under the machine. “I’m glad you’re amused,” she retorted, poking at the button on the machine again.
Joel, still grinning, pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and plunked down. “Okay, let’s see what we can do about this leadership thing. I mean, you were doing so well! What, with finding a way to keep Crash from going crazy, and listening to the others about what they need to be motivated and engaged on this isolated rock.”
Molly turned and leaned against the counter while the machine whirred and did its thing. “Yeah, really great… You know that Crash hasn’t been using the pods just to get his cabin fever ya-yas out?”
Joel cocked his head. “Huh?”
Molly folded her arms. “Yeah, he’s using his pod time to go and see some chick he’s been talking to on the other side of the asteroid.”
Joel looked confused. “But Paige said he’s been more relaxed since he had pod time.”
Molly raised her eyebrows knowingly. “Well…” she paused, waiting to see if the penny would drop. When Joel showed no signs of putting it together, she moved on. “The point is, this ‘motivating the troops,’ or, more precisely, training and managing them, bites.”
The machine fell silent and she picked up her mug. “You want one?” she asked Joel, indicating at the machine.
He shook his head. “No thanks. But this management thing is just something you need to work on. No one - well, very few people - are able to just do it naturally. Why do you think the military invests so much in leadership training, and personnel development?”
Molly sat down on the other side of the corner where Joel had placed himself. She hugged her mug with two hands and shrugged. “Dunno. I can see it’s important. But I just don’t know where to start.”
Joel leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk. “You’ve already started. Now we just have to keep refining,” he told her. “So, why don’t we talk about finding out what really motivates them?”
Molly shrugged again. “Okay,” she said flatly.
Joel took that as a sign to continue. ”Alright, so let’s take Pieter. He’s an odd one. He’s not a soldier. He doesn’t do this for the pride. Or for justice. But he does care about his team. What do you think he struggles with most, though?”
Molly wracked her brains. Her eyes fell on the rim of her mocha cup. “Not gambling?” she guessed.
Joel shook his head. “No. The gambling was a symptom. His biggest challenge is being able to connect and bond with people.”
Molly frowned again, and moved her gaze forward to the wooden table, still not looking at him. “How do you know that?”
Joel tilted his head. “You remember when we had that post-op pizza fest, where you announced Maya was joining the team?”
Molly nodded.
Joel sat back in the chair and crossed his legs in a four shape. “You remember how Pieter lit up when Sean ruffled him, and bear hugged him?”
Molly took a sip of mocha. “Yeah, vaguely,” she said after swallowing.
“Well,” Joel continued slowly, “that was a breakthrough moment for Pieter. He suddenly felt accepted.” He tried to catch Molly’s eye. “Haven’t you noticed how since then, he’s been hanging out with the others more, and coming out of his shell?”
Molly glanced up at Joel. “Yeah, he’s become more of a smart arse too!”
Joel grinned. “Exactly. Cuz he’s comfortable with the team now. He feels accepted, like he can be himself.”
Molly started to smile a little. “I see. That’s… great.” Her eyes developed a distant look for a moment. “So, how does that help me manage him?”
Joel nodded his head and started waving his hands in explanation. “What it means is that he craves connection. So your job as his leader is to make sure he finds opportunities to keep developing that. That’s why on the training exercises, I keep pairing him with either Paige or Brock. They’ve bonded already - so I keep giving them the opportunity to make that bond deeper. Eventually, he’ll start naturally spending time with the others, too… But to force him out of his comfort zone before he feels ready to, will just keep him struggling and feeling like an outsider.”
Molly pushed her mocha cup forward and let her head hit her arms in front of her. “I don’t know how I’m ever going to do this voodoo you do,” she exclaimed.
Joel put a hand on her arm. “It’s okay. You’ll get it. It just takes time. And practice. How about you have a conversation with Maya next, and see if you can work out what’s important to her? You know - what she hopes to get out of being on the team. What she wants to do with her life. That kind of thing.”
Molly lifted her head, stray hairs flopping over her face and into her eyes. “Yeah. I can do that. I guess.”
Joel took a breath. “Good. That’s the next thing then.” He stood up. “Okay, we’re due in training in a couple of hours, and I have some case files to go through. See you down there?”
Molly had put her head back into her arms. “Yeah…” she said, muffled through the table and sweatshirt arms.
Joel shook his head, and tucked his chair back under the table. He patted her head gently. “It’ll be okay. Promise.”
He left.
Molly?
Yeah?
You have a meeting with the General in ten minutes.
Oh, shit. Right.
Molly lifted her head and pulled her mocha closer. She examined the contents of the cup, her nose wrinkled.
What the fuck is wrong with this mocha, Oz?
I don’t know. Take another sip.
Molly took another sip. She paused.
Oz?
Yeah?
What’s up with it?
Erm. You might not want to drink the rest.
Why not?
You don’t need to know. Just throw it out.
Why?
It’s not good. Just throw it.
Molly’s head hit the desk again, in exhaustion and exasperation.
Bloody hell. Just shoot me now…
Gaitune-67, Base conference room
Molly sat like a schoolgirl in the head master’s office, dwarfed by the size of the empty conference room. The holo in front of her illuminated her skin, making her look blue.
Wish I’d managed to drink even half a mocha before this meeting.
Well, you had time. If you hadn’t wasted eight minutes with your head on the desk, you would have been able to.
The hologram of the General leaned forward, as he continued speaking.
“… and that means you need to wrap up your escapades with The Syndicate as soon as possible,” the General concluded.
Molly suddenly started paying attention, and rewound in her mind what the General was saying.
“Hang on,” she said, “are you… Did you just? How did you know about our plan to go after The Syndicate?”
The General leaned back in his anti-grav chair, sucking on the cigar thing he always seemed to have handy.
Molly kept talking. “Are you bugging the safe house, still? I thought you weren’t listening, out of respect for our privacy?”
The General seemed genuinely amused. “I’m not. Nor is ADAM,” he added, seeing her next question formulating in her open mouth.
Molly’s brow furrowed, her frustrations for the day only increasing. “Well, what then?” she asked her impatience bleeding through.
The General smiled. “It’s not rocket science, my dear,” he told her. “You have an AI in your head. Your AI simply mentioned it to my AI.”
Molly couldn’t contain her disbelief. “What?” she almost screeched, before remembering who she was talking to. “You mean your AI and my AI are having some kind of frickin’ bromance-slash-secret-liaison behind my back? And then landing me in it?”
The General grinned and nodded. “Seems so,” he concluded, taking the cigar out of his mouth.
Oz, you fucking traitor.
Oz didn’t respond. Molly couldn’t even feel him.
The General leaned in on his desk. “So, anyway, this is how it’s going to play out…” he continued.
* * *
Joel and Sean stood waiting outside the conference room casually, or not so casually, peering in to see what was going down.
“She looks pissed,” Sean said, wandering away from the door and leaning against the corridor wall out of view.
Joel nodded. “Yup,” he agreed. “She wasn’t in the best mood going in.”
Sean sighed. “What do you think they’re talking about?” he probed.
Joel was still watching stealthily through the window. “Dunno,” he shrugged. “It was meant to be a planning meeting… which was why I thought I should be here when she came out.” He paused a moment, and then carefully stepped away from the window. “Come to think of it… how come you’re here?”
Sean grinned. “It’s alright, cowboy; I’m just here to give her a rundown of some of the toys you guys haven’t cracked into yet.” He gestured off to the hangar deck down the corridor.
“Ohhh,” Joel said. “I see. So… official business, then.”
Sean nodded. “Right.” He had his arms crossed, and he now flexed his muscles, demonstrating his enhanced prowess. Joel resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He’d been working out extra hard since getting to Gaitune, but Paige wasn’t wrong when she noticed that he upped his game again when Sean joined the team.
Joel glanced back into the conference room. “Well, I suppose I should leave you guys to it then,” he concluded.
Sean started to say something, and then changed his mind. His expression softened. “Well… You know, if you want, I can show you how to use some of the bigger artillery later. After squad training.” He unfolded his arms and put his hands on his hips, before reaching up and scratching his head. “If you want, that is…”
Joel wasn’t looking, so he missed Sean going a little red and awkward about his extension of friendship. “Yeah, sure…” Joel responded, peering back into the conference room, distracted.
The meeting seemed to be wrapping up. The General gave one last instruction, and then the holo closed off. “Oh, hang on. They’re finishing,” he told Sean.
Sean pushed up off the corridor wall, and stood straight.
Joel paused a moment, and then waved his hand in front of the conference room access pad. The door whooshed open. Molly turned from her seat, making no immediate effort to get up. “All okay?” Joel asked, hovering at the door.
Molly nodded, and leaned back in her chair, swiveling round to see him better. “Yeah,” she sighed. “I can make it work.”
Joel ambled into the room, pulled a chair away from the table, and perched his butt against the table’s edge. “’Make it work’? That doesn’t sound like the same girl who attacked the mocha machine earlier,” he smiled.
She grinned. “Yeah, that girl got her arse kicked by two AIs and the General of the Etheric Empire. It’s time she got her shit together and showed them who they’re fucking with.” Her face lit up as she talked herself up. A hint of the devil emerged in her eye.
Joel smirked. “I know that look. That’s the look you get just before I get hauled into one of your diabolical plans!”
She smiled innocently, her eyes wide. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mr. Dunham,” she exclaimed.
Sean appeared at the door. “Did I hear there was a diabolical plan afoot?” he asked.
Molly glanced over at him, bringing him into the conversation. “You did. Turns out my bitch of an AI has been in bed with ADAM, and let slip that we decided to take down The Syndicate between now and starting on the General’s official missions.”
I said I’m sorry.
It’s okay, Oz. It’s better he knows.
“Anyway, the General basically said to get it cleaned away and done, because he wants 110% of our attention. And that works for me.”
Joel looked a little surprised. “You mean he basically just gave you his blessing?”
Molly nodded. “Indeed. And he gave us time scales and a training plan to get to in between and after. Oz is going through and scheduling us as we speak.”
Sean looked impressed. “Must say, the General has the right idea. The Estarian situation has been a low-level pain in our brains for a while now. It will be good to see that regime topple.”
Molly clocked Sean’s comment. “Hmm. Sounds like you have even more intel you haven’t shared yet.” She looked at him like a teacher would look at a naughty schoolboy.
Sean grinned. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll fill you in on whatever is relevant when we put our battle plan together. Don’t you worry.”
Joel cut in. “So we’re going to take down the whole Syndicate once and for all?” His voice was a little more surprised than Molly had expected.
She nodded. “Every piece. We have permission, and his blessing, to take the whole thing apart. Right down to the companies and subsidiaries, and any law that we need to alter to keep these dodgy mechanisms in place.”
Joel whistled. “Wow. This is going to be one heck of an op.” He shook his head. “How long do we have?”
Molly took a deep breath and stood up, stretching out her back. “About a week.”
Sean and Joel’s mouths dropped open.
“Well, come on, boys,” she said straightening up. “No time to stand around gawking. We have work to do.” She turned to Sean. “How about we get going with that weapon rundown after training later? I could do with some research time right now.”
Sean managed to bob his head. “Er… yeah. Sure.”
Joel looked concerned. “How about we switch the training session to a general briefing to get the team up to speed on this latest development?”
Molly thought for a moment, her eyes up at the ceiling.
Can we be ready for a general meeting by then, Oz?
Yes. I think we can do some of the planning with the team’s input.
Molly looked back at Joel. “Great idea. How about we involve the team, and pull together any information they might have to help us come up with a plan?”
Joel nodded, smiling a little, despite the elevated stress level. “Someone’s learning team management,” he told her, impressed.
Molly grinned. “Girl’s got to try!” she replied as she strode out of the room.
Both guys turned and followed her out. Sean started walking along side her. Joel hung back, typing into his holo as he walked.
OZ. ANY CHANCE WE CAN CHAT?
Chapter 2
Gaitune-67, Base conference room
Joel sat in a pod on the hangar deck, having carefully selected one that was turned away from the main walkway.
He’d wanted a quiet word with Oz, and the small space, coupled with the audio integration, meant that he could easily have a two-way conversation with Oz here; better than anywhere else on the base or in the safe house.
Joel waited until the pod door was firmly closed. “Heard you accidentally let ADAM know what the plan was?”
Oz’s audio channel cracked open. “Yeah. Won’t be making that mistake again. She was not pleased.”
Joel’s voice was sympathetic. “Yeah. She’ll get over it. I don’t think it was a big secret, anyway.”
Oz’s voice didn’t convey that he was overly concerned. “Yes. I think I’d agree with you. My Molly mood-heuristic has her being completely back to normal with me by the time the group meeting is over.”
Joel’s tone was incredulous and amused. “You’re kidding! You model her moods?”
“And behavior,” Oz added.
Joel thought for a moment and leaned back in his seat, leaning one elbow against the side of the capsule. “Wow. But what for?” he asked.
Oz’s tone was matter-of-fact. “Wouldn’t you like to have a heads up on how she is going to react to something, instead of sitting around and waiting?”
Joel chuckled, hardly believing his ears. “You mean you can make predictions that are accurate?”
Oz’s voice conveyed that he had realized that Joel was impressed by his operation. “Yes; within a certain tolerance, of course,” he answered, a little pleased with himself.
Joel shook his head, and whistled a little through his teeth. “You’ll have to tell me more about that some time.”
“Sure,” Oz promised. “So, what’s on your mind?”
“Well…” Joel started slowly. “It’s Sean.” He paused a moment. “Well, it’s not Sean,” he corrected himself. “It’s me. I mean, I’m used to being surrounded by competitive jackasses; but normally I can hold my own. But Sean,” he sighed, “he just has too much over me.”
Oz’s voice revealed he would have been smiling. “Ah yes, his enhanced capabilities,” he confirmed sympathetically.
“Right,” Joel agreed, glumly.
“And you’re wondering what I might be able to do to help?” Oz checked.
Joel nodded, shifting his elbow, which had been slipping down the side of the pod. “You read my mind, Oz.”
Oz chuckled. “No - just your heuristic.”
Joel frowned, and sat up straighter. “You’re kidding?” he asked, half impressed, half disbelieving he warranted that much trouble.
“Yes, I am kidding,” Oz confessed. “I haven’t modeled your behavior formally. But, to be fair, you’re not as erratic or complex as Molly, so…”
Joel laughed to himself. “Yeah. I hear you,” he agreed, his attention drifting off as he remembered some of her infuriating complexities. He shook his head, bringing himself back to the conversation. “So, what do you think you can do for me?” he asked.
“Well,” Oz conceded, “nothing from your current installations… But,” he continued, “if we could acquire some additional implants and tech, we could do a heap of stuff.”
Oz paused.
“What exactly are you looking for?” he clarified.
Joel hesitated. “Faster reflexes. For ops,” he added quickly.
Oz couldn’t see, but Joel’s face flushed a little pink.
Oz chuckled. Joel could feel the slight vibration of his laughter through the seat of the pod.
“What’s so funny?” Joel asked.
Oz’s voice was still bouncing with humor a little. “Nothing. Just funny how male humans compete!”
Joel dropped his arm from where he had wedged himself and was almost up out of the seat in protest. “I’m not competing. I’m… I’m…”
The vibrations of Oz’s laughter paused. “Yes?” Oz prompted.
Joel deflated, and slumped back into the chair. “Okay. I’m competing,” he admitted, flushing an even deeper shade of pink. “But it will also be good for the team,” he added weakly.
Oz chuckled again. “This is true,” he concurred. “Which is why I’m going to help.”
Oz went quiet for a few moments. Joel shifted awkwardly in the pod, still feeling a bit hot around the face.
Finally Oz spoke again. “We’re going to need a set of implants, which I’ll have ordered up on the next shipment. And you’re going to have to bring Brock in on this.”
Joel nearly shot out of his seat again. “Whaaaa?” he blurted. “Brock? Why him?”
Oz’s voice was steady, with a hint of irony. “He’s the only one of us with a body who might have the necessary skills to implant the devices we’re going to need.”
Joel settled a little, huffed, and wedged his arm back onto the side of the pod for comfort. Then suddenly, he looked suspicious. “Hang on,” he stalled. “Where exactly are these devices going?”
Oz sounded more clinical now. “We should have a stimulator-cum-relay at the bottom of your brainstem, and then one on the outside of the cortex.”
Joel did a double-take, glaring at the heads-up display in front of him, as if he could eyeball Oz. “You what-what?! You’re talking about Brock doing brain surgery on me?”
Oz sighed. “Well, yes. Technically. But no need to be so melodramatic!” he exclaimed. “The one in the brainstem can be injected, and it will settle in place. The one in the cortex will go in around your temple, where the bone is thin anyway,” he explained somewhat flippantly.
Joel went pale, the effects of any blushing completely neutralized.
Oz continued. “It will be fine. Brock has more than enough dexterity to take out a tiny slice of bone, put the implant in, and then replace the bone and let it heal up,” he reassured Joel. “You’ll hardly feel a difference once it’s in…” He paused, and then qualified his statement. “Unless it overheats.”
Joel’s voice jumped a few octaves. “What do you mean, ‘unless it overheats’?” He suddenly remembered himself, that he was trying to keep his presence in the pod a secret.
Oz pulled up a simple diagram from the product page of the device he had located on the XtraNET. “It’s a slight risk. If the chip doesn’t go into precisely the right amount of tissue, it won’t be able to run the signal, and so it might heat up.”
The area around Joel’s eyes rumpled in confusion and frustration. “In which case?” he pushed.
Oz remained clinical. “In which case, we simply remove it and try again.”
Joel shook his head in disbelief. “Oh, right, so no big deal, then.”
“Right,” Oz agreed plainly.
Joel looked out onto the hangar deck, away from the brain diagram. “I was being ironic,” he told him.
“Yeah, I got that,” confirmed Oz.
Joel was silent for a moment, thinking through his options. He could always not have the procedure and just keep working out. But then he’d never have Sean’s reactions. Or speed. Or strength.
He sighed. “Okay, so I need to have a word with Brock at some point, then?”
Oz’s channel had gone quiet. Hearing Joel’s response, the audio opened up again. “Yes. I’ll let you know when we might expect these parts though.”
Joel leaned forward to grab the handrail and pull himself out of his seat as the door opened up again. “Okay, great. And thanks, Oz. I appreciate you helping me.”
“Of course,” Oz replied. “Got to help a brother out.”
Joel grinned and hopped out of the pod quietly.
Before closing the door, he peeked around the hangar, just to make sure no one was around. Satisfied, he waved his hand in front of the access panel, and the transparent door slid quietly down.
Joel crept for a few strides, and then stood up straight and walked casually back to the main thoroughfare around the outside of the hangar deck.
Sean Royale, you cocky son of a bitch. I’m going to show you and your cyborg ass who can shoot, he thought as he climbed the stairs two at a time back towards the demon door corridor. He had another meeting to get to shortly, and a few things to organize before then.
Gaitune-67, base conference room
Just over an hour later, the team was assembled in the conference room for the briefing. Jack had been introduced to everyone, and sat between Sean and Molly.
Joel was the last person to arrive. Since he and Jack were already acquainted, he waved to her and pulled out a chair around the corner of the table from Pieter. He noticed Pieter tracking his movement and leaned over to punch him gently on the shoulder before sitting down.
Molly was standing up, ready to begin. As soon as Joel was seated, everyone spontaneously gave her their full attention.
She ran through the order of proceedings in her head, as the manual for briefings had suggested. First, welcome them and acknowledge anything new or different, Molly recalled. Jack is new, Molly told herself.
“Greetings, everyone,” she began. “Thanks for being here. I know you were looking forward to squad training, but we’ll schedule that for a little later on.”
There was a rumble of chuckling throughout the room. Squad training was the bane of their existence; but, like eating vegetables, they knew it was vital to their survival - in a very real and immediate way.
Molly continued. “As you may already know, we have a new team member. Her name is Jack Nolan. She is a decorated former officer, and has run operations and teams bigger and badder than you can even imagine. She’s tough as nails, and is probably going to give our boys Sean, Crash, and Joel a run for their money.” She paused and glanced around at her GIs. “No offense lads,” she winked.
Jack blushed a little. She was far more used to having to prove her toughness than having team leaders pre-warn their guys about her.
This was going to be a refreshing change.
Molly went back to her mental notes. Tell them the purpose or outcome you want from this meeting.
She took a breath, organizing her thoughts. “The reason we called this meeting over squad training is because I had a conversation with the General earlier. As a result of what we discussed, we’re going to have to shift our plans.”
She waited for a reaction in the group. Not a single person flinched.
Relieved, she continued. “What we’d originally scheduled was to go full-tilt into training for the General’s mission in three weeks’ time. In the interim, Joel, myself, Oz, Sean, and Maya have realized that there was a pattern behind our latest missions; The Syndicate was behind them, trying to set us up.” She paused, glancing at her more senior team members briefly. “We finally have enough data and resources to commit to taking them out, once and for all. When the General found out about this, he not only sanctioned it, but insisted we clean it up before we join the mission they have planned.”
She took a deep breath. “So, in effect,” she concluded, “we’ve doubled, or maybe tripled, our workload.”
Brock grinned, his hands on the table, leaning into the discussion. “Nothing new there, then, eh?” The team erupted into chuckles. Paige clapped her hands, and Crash slapped on the desk to make more ruckus.
Molly grinned at him. “Knew you’d be up for it!” she said, her shoulders relaxing a little.
Pieter leaned forward and crumpled up his face a little, like Sean does. He sat a little askew on his chair, too. As Sean does. “So, who are we to kill, and how dead can I kill them?” he asked, mimicking Sean’s intonation.
That was it. The conference room erupted into another bout of laughter that could be heard all the way through to the hangar deck. Molly put her hands on her waist and hunched over laughing.
Finally she composed herself. “You can kill them very dead, Pieter.” She glanced over at Sean, who was doing his shoulder-and-chest-bouncing silent laugh. “Perhaps the real Mr. Royale can help us out? You have new intel about the Syndicate? Namely, how we can find them?”
Sean sat up and leaned forward, careful to not screw his face up, or shift his weight sideways. He glanced at Pieter coyly, his eyes narrowed, before turning his attention to the group and responding. “Right,” he confirmed. “Our contact, Garet Beaufort, has been posing as a member of The Syndicate for the last several months…”
He paused, noticing Joel’s eyes widen. Molly didn’t show any signs of it being new information to her.
Sean continued. “… Ever since he went back to Estaria, after you first extracted him. He’ll be able to tell us when all the members will next be in a room together. They’ll have layers of security we’ll need to handle, but once we know where and when, we just need to decide what to do when we get there. Snatch and grab. Point and shoot. Or something else.”
Sean glanced over to Molly for her decision.
Molly shrugged. “I’m more concerned with breaking up the systems they have implemented and represent. Sure, we can kill them; but then we need to do the work to dismantle what they’ve put in place… which will come afterwards, I guess.”
Sean held her gaze, waiting for a definitive.
She hesitated a moment, thinking, then shrugged again. “Okay. Take them out.”
Sean grinned.
Joel took a breath and inserted himself into the conversation, as the rest of the team watched carefully for their orders. “I think the reality is that unless these people are forcibly removed from influence, they’re going to keep that system in play; a system that is costing lives, and causing suffering for generations of civilians. We have a moral duty to intervene.”
Molly’s face relaxed a little. She nodded, moving onto the last point she needed to cover in her meeting plan. “Okay, so strike team will consist of myself, Crash, who will guard the pods, Sean, Joel, and Jack.”
She then indicated to the remaining team members by pointing a finger at each of them, as if selecting them on a dashboard. “Pieter, Brock, Paige, and Maya; I need you here, working to gather anything you can find that will tell us the weaknesses in their organizations, that will pull them down once they are dealt with. Paige, I wonder if you can also get with Garet after the takedown, and find out how to change the legislation which is allowing this kind of regime to thrive?”
Paige nodded and made a note. She seemed more focused on the job in hand than the prospect of having to speak to her ex. Molly noticed, and made a mental note to keep tabs on that situation. And possibly confer with Joel about it in their next management training pow-wow.
“Maya, Joel can hook you up with our police contacts on the surface. They will no doubt want to help any way they can. They’ve been trying to take these guys down for years. Especially the female detective we met… She sounded like she’d been immersed in tracking down the group for several years. Her name… Chaakwa?”
Molly looked at Joel for confirmation, and he nodded in agreement. She glanced back at Maya who was taking a note. “Okay, got it,” responded Maya.
Molly glanced around the table. “Anyone have any questions?”
Brock raised his hand. “Do we still have training today?”
The mood in the room lifted a little. Molly sat down, waving her open hand to Joel.
Joel considered it for a moment. “Yes, training in half an hour. We’ll keep it tight, and then you can get on with prep for the mission.” He glanced over at Sean. “I guess we wait for you to give us our window?”
Sean nodded silently, but definitively.
Brock sat back in his chair and Pieter glanced over at him with a glare. “Way to go, reminding them of training,” Pieter huffed comically.
Molly remembered there were other items. “Ah, one second, people.”
She looked over at Maya. “Maya, you need to close the loop on your life on the surface. You can’t let anyone know where you’re going to be, but you probably want to let the people who care about you know that you’re safe and well. And better give your boss a heads up so he can disappear for a little while. Don’t want him getting caught up in any backlash, since he was one of their pawns.”
Maya nodded.
Joel had a suggestion, and leaned in a little again. “We could always go do that today, so that it’s out of the way before we strike? Make sure we’re not missing anything, or leaving her boss vulnerable in our efforts.”
Molly agreed. “Good thinking. Okay, perhaps you want to do that after training.”
Joel nodded. Maya looked down at her notes. Molly couldn’t see her face, but she needed to wrap up the meeting. “Okay,” Molly announced, “the rest of you can go get ready for physical training.”
The room became a hub of activity as the team stood up and started chatting.
Molly called over to Maya. “Maya, can I have a word?”
Maya got up and tucked her chair out of the way as the rest of the team emptied out of the meeting room.
She ambled round to Molly’s side of the table. “Hey…”
Molly smiled, and perched on the table’s edge. “Hey. You okay? You seemed… well… something, about having to go down to surface.”
Molly waited for Maya to speak.
Maya nodded her head quickly and smiled weakly. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just… I know we agreed that I’d stay up here. And this is truly what I want. I’m just… I didn’t think I’d have to say goodbye to my friends so soon.”
Molly looked down at her feet as she processed. She looked up. “Ah, I see. I can understand that. Your boss?”
Maya had a hint of sadness in her eye. “Yes. He’s been like a father to me.”
Molly felt her sadness. She tried to contain her emotions, though. “I get it,” she said sympathetically. Molly hesitated, trying to figure out how to handle the situation. She imagined what Joel would say, and then just repeated it as she heard it in her head. “Just know that you’ve found a new family now. We’ll take care of you…” She hesitated, and then made an effort to pat Maya’s upper arm, awkwardly. Then she smiled. Equally awkwardly.
Maya wasn’t quite sure what was happening. She shuffled a tiny step backwards. “Er… Thanks,” she said.
Molly suddenly looked more rigid. “Erm. So. Why did you decide to come to Gaitune to work with us in the first place?” she asked stiffly.
Fuck, this social crap is hard.
You’re doing great. Remember Joel says practice, practice, practice…
Maya looked at Molly a little stunned. “Er. Well, Sean brought me up here, and you offered me a job.”
Molly felt flustered. “Yes, yes, I get that. But what gets you excited about it? I mean, is it your teammates? Or a certain teammate…?”
Dudette, you are so crashing and burning on this.
Thanks, Oz. Now fuck off.
“Erm,” Maya took another half step backwards. “Yes…? I guess? The opportunity to work in a team…”
Maya had started blushing uncomfortably. “So. I. I should probably go and get ready for training…” she said gesturing towards the door.
Molly nodded in relief. “Yes, of course!” she said as brightly, with as much manufactured team spirit as she could artificially muster. “See you down there!”
She watched as Maya scuttled out of the room, like a mouse freed from a trap.
Yep. Yep. That could have gone worse.
Molly ignored him and slumped back into her chair, her head falling straight into her hands.
Nevermind, Sport. Just practice, practice-
Oz, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to take a flamethrower to my fucking holo.
Oz fell immediately silent. The way her circuits felt, he wouldn’t put it past her.
* * *
Sean poked his head around the door. “So, reveling in the ups and downs of leadership, I see?” He grinned at her without mocking her.
Molly lifted her head from her hands, her hair falling in her face again.
He stepped more fully into the room. “Ready for an induction into some real toys?” he prompted.
Molly slapped her forehead. “Oh, right,” she remembered. “Hangar deck playtime.”
“Yes! Unless…” he had a glint in his eye. “You’d rather just hang here and wallow in self-pity about how hard it is to talk to team members when you’re not giving them orders?”
She smiled.
“In case you were wondering,” he said, venturing further into the room, “that was a joke. Sarcasm. I’m not actually suggesting you-”
She nodded. “I appreciate the clarity,” she said. “Actually. I really do,” she sighed. “People are so fucking complex. And then trying to be nuanced and shit back… Ugh.”
She shook her head vigorously messing her hair up even more.
Sean grinned again. “Toys?”
She stood up and started heading out of the room with him. “Yes. Toys. And ships. And guns,” she agreed, looking somewhat consoled.
He waved his hand in the direction of the door for her to lead the way. “Coming right up,” he told her, following her out.
The pair strode down the corridor and out into the main hangar deck, now walking side-by-side. “You ready to see the big fuck-off ship in the middle, now?”
Molly’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yes indeedy,” she confirmed excitedly.
Sean couldn’t help but brighten up around her enthusiasm. It was like a natural reaction, like a cup of hot cocoa or hot shower warms one’s body.
They passed through the whooshing double doors onto the hangar deck.
Sean’s pace quickened a little. “Okay, so this bad girl,” he said gesturing at the ship as they approached her from the rear, “can easily carry about a hundred troops, plus their gear. It has incredible warp capabilities, maneuverability and…” He leaned in closer to whisper to her.
Molly fell quiet and stood still, wondering what he was going to tell her that was so important.
“Gate capabilities,” he finished, his eyes wide and excited.
Molly stared at him blankly.
Sean moved his hands and head again, as if “ta-da”-ing the statement again would help her understand how profound his revelation was.
Molly blinked.
Sean stood back a little and frowned at her lack of reaction.
“Huh?” she asked.
“Gate capabilities,” he repeated more loudly. “The ability to create and travel through gates.”
Molly shook her head, not understanding.
Sean spoke more slowly. “You know what a gate is?” he checked, hardly believing he was having this conversation with her.
She shook her head again.
Then she paused.
Then… “Ohhhhhhhh. You mean like the Annex Gate in settler history?”
Sean rolled his eyes. “Holy fuck. Seriously? That’s your only reference?”
He waved his arms, exasperated, and kept walking closer to the ship. “How do you think anyone in the Etheric Empire gets around these days? Certainly not on piddly warp drive. Mother of my ancestors!” he cursed in exaggerated disbelief.
He turned back to her, compelled by genuine curiosity. “Did you think the rest of the world uses warp speed?” he pressed.
Molly’s eyes looked up as she processed the information. From what he was saying, the Sark system is probably a few hundred years behind in technology. At least.
She nodded, feeling like a little girl that had just been told that fries are grown in the ground. She still wasn’t sure if this new information fitted in her universe.
She needed answers.
Molly frowned back at him. “How is the wormhole created, then? And sustained? And then why doesn’t the ship spaghettify as it goes through?” she asked him, intensely.
Not waiting for an answer, she continued. “And where the fuck does all that energy come from? Are you telling me you can just create them whenever you like?”
She fired her torrent of questions at the cocky marine, who seemed to be visibly knocked backwards by them.
He held up his hands in surrender, wearing a grin a mile wide. “Hey, hell if I know!” he protested. “I just fly the damn things. But it’s something I’m sure ADAM and the General will be pleased to share with you in a geeky mind-meld some time,” he chuckled.
Molly seemed unsatisfied.
“Come on,” he told her, indicating to follow him. “Lemme show you something.”
He led her around to the front of the craft, and they looked up. The cockpit was way out of sight, but she spotted the queen bitch insignia on the side.
“You know what that is, right?” he asked pointing up at it.
She nodded.
“Good,” he said. “So then you know what it means to have one of these ships?” he queried, now unsure that she knew anything of the world beyond Sark.
A slight smile crept across Molly’s face as she lit up. “Yeah, I’m starting to.”
“Good,” he told her, breathing and relaxing a little. “At least this isn’t totally wasted on you,” he muttered cynically under his breath. He started walking underneath the nose to the other side, signaling with his head for her to keep following.
They came out on the other side, and he moved a little further back towards the wing. Then he stepped back a little more. He waved his hand, and a laser beam appeared to spot his position. A second later, a holo access point appeared right next to where they were standing.
“Shit!” exclaimed Molly excitedly. “What is-? I’ve never seen anything like that!”
Sean winked. “You ain’t seen nothing yet, sweetheart,” he told her. A moment later he had keyed something into the pad, and the device scanned his retina.
Immediately, the ship started to come to life. No engines; just a quiet activity of internal systems coming online.
Molly noticed the hum. A moment later, Sean started walking forward and lifted his leg as if to step. Molly watched him, confused.
“What are you-” she started to ask.
Sean stepped up and then stepped again, walking up what could only be an invisible staircase.
Molly moved to the side of it. She couldn’t see anything. She waved her hand. She connected with… air. “Fuck!” she whispered under her breath.
Sean called down to her. “It’s okay. Just come around to the front where I stepped up, and you’ll see a slight field distortion.”
Molly moved back around to where Sean had started his ascent, and sure enough she could just make out ripples of light distortion creating the stairway.
She stepped; the stairway reacted a little, but held her weight. As she pulled herself up and took the next step, its consistency reminded her of the adapting sofas and chairs in the ops room. She reached her hand out and placed it down, and the stairway reacted to her movement and gave her an invisible handrail.
She looked down at the space beneath her feet, and then at her hand grasping onto something that wasn’t there. “This is cool as shit!” she giggled.
Sean was several steps ahead of her, now. He turned back to her, also grinning. “I know! Right?” he said, beaming.
She followed him up the stairs, wondering how this would let them into the ship. As soon as Sean was a couple of steps from the body of the ship, though, the side became – well, she didn’t know quite how to describe it. The side of the ship was still there, and visible, but it had become somewhat translucent. By the time she got close to it, the ship’s side had completely evaporated a doorway-sized section, allowing them passage into some kind of main entrance.
Molly looked inside, and then took a few steps backward to look at the outside. The translucence disappeared at what looked like the edges of the doorway, and turned back into a normal-looking ship. But she couldn’t see the boundary.
There was no edge.
She reached out her fingers, and there was nothing to touch - as if she were putting her fingers through a hologram.
Sean watched her like a parent watching a child examine a strange looking cobble in the street. “You done?” he asked, smirking arrogantly again.
Molly raised one eyebrow. “Not yet,” she replied, oblivious to his tone.
She ran down a few of the stairs and looked back, noticing how the outside of the ship seemed to change on the approach as a result of her perspective. She stomped back up the stairs again and back into the foyer area, which was lit like something out of a science fiction movie.
Sean mimicked her previous raised eyebrow. “And now?” he asked.
Molly nodded simply. “Yep.”
Sean shook his head in amusement. “You going to explain what your little examination yielded?”
Molly shook her head. “No,” she smiled, teasing him.
“But you’re now satisfied with how it works?” he pressed.
“Yup,” she nodded.
Sean looked a little deflated that she was able to figure things out without him dropping her tiny bits of information.
Molly looked around the foyer and cabin area. There were seats that looked like they were hovering. That meant anti-grav.
Sean didn’t give her a chance to take it all in. Probably because he takes it for granted, she assumed. He led her straight through a field-like door that was there, but also not, into a narrow passageway. It was much darker, and there were doors off it.
“Restrooms,” he pointed. “elevator down to the infirmary,” he pointed at another access door.
“Infirmary?” she asked.
“Yeah. This is a transport battle ship. I know your boy Joel is a sharp shooter, but, out there, normal soldiers get hit now and again. That’s where we patch them up,” he explained.
Molly grinned. She clocked how he talked about Joel. His words were competitive, but his tone was affectionate.
I wonder if those two are developing a bromance, she mused. Oz and ADAM, and now Sean and Joel… Like they’re marrying into the Etheric Empire.
She shook her head at her weird thought processes.
“They’re developing something that will help in the field, medically,” he told her.
Molly cocked her head as she continued to follow him. “Oh, what do you know?”
Sean glanced back, serious again. “Nothing I can share.”
Molly scowled, running her hand against the wall of the passage as she walked. “So why say anything at all?” she asked, a hint of annoyance in her voice.
Sean turned back. “Good point,” he conceded.
Molly shook her head at his ego slipping through.
Sean continued with the tour. “That one is your armory,” he said, pressing a finger against a door panel. “And then through here,” he kept moving forward and signaled ahead of them, “this is where the magic happens.” His voice lifted, and they were back into playtime.
They stepped through another doorway, or field, or whatever it was that separated the compartments out, and into a fairly large cockpit.
There were six consoles, complete with the anti-grav full body control chairs. The window out onto the hangar deck was clear, but with various heads-up display screens patterned all over it… different things clearly being controlled at different consoles.
Sean turned to face her, holding his arms outward by his side. “So, what do you think?” he asked her.
Molly looked around, completely in awe. “This is one hell of a ride!” she confessed. She looked at the different stations. “Does that mean you need six people to fly it, though?”
Sean shook his head, and turned the front right seat to perch down into it. “Nah. One person can fly this baby pretty easily. They’re each enabled with intelligent systems. ‘EIs,’ we call them.”
Molly frowned. “So why six chairs?”
Sean shrugged. “The techs joke that it’s something to do with government regs and wanting to keep pilots employed,” he smirked. “But, honestly, in the heat of battle, sometimes you just need the human element.” He nodded over to the chair nearest Molly. “That one allows a person to take control of the weapons system, leaving the pilot to focus solely on the flying.”
He indicated to the one opposite, on the other side of the floor space where Molly had stopped. “That one is the Nav chair. You can scout and plot a course, and pull up maps before you gate to it.”
Molly’s eyes flickered in recognition. “Gate…” she repeated. “Tell me more about that.”
“Well,” Sean grinned, “as you know, this baby is what we call gate-enabled, which means she can create her own gates whenever she wants.”
Molly was still looking at the nav chair. Without being aware of what she was doing, she gravitated over to it and swiveled it around to get closer to the console it sat in front of.
“How does it know where a gate is going to end up?” she asked.
Sean got up and stepped over. “Go on,” he said, helping her into the chair.
She held his hand as she climbed up into it. As soon as her weight was on it properly, it recalibrated for her mass and tipped her back into it properly. A harness released three quarters of the way down, and she figured she could just pull it and strap herself in, if she were staying.
At the same time, controls appeared under each hand, and something fuzzed in her brain.
Molly. You still there?
Yeah. What was that, Oz?
I dunno. Something is trying to access my security.
Molly was frowning. “Sean - what’s it doing? It feels fuzzy in my head…”
Sean’s voice was calm. “It’s okay. It’s just communicating with you,” he explained.
Molly relaxed a little. “Well, Oz says it’s trying to hack his security protocols.”
“Oh, shit!” Sean slapped his thigh and laughed out loud. “No way?”
Molly tried to sit up a little. The buzzing in her head was distracting and over-stimulating.
Sean held onto the arm of her control chair as he laughed.
Molly frowned as she fought the chair’s recline. “Damn it, Sean, not funny.”
Still laughing, he stepped closer to see the console. He swiped at a screen and flicked a setting. The buzzing stopped.
Molly’s face relaxed. “What did you do?” she asked.
“Well,” he explained, composing himself. “These babies aren’t designed to be flown by people with their own onboard security that hasn’t been put there by the Empire.”
“I,” he tapped his head, “am of course fully integratabtle, as it were. Your AI, however, is alien tech; and therefore, not able… or perhaps willing,” he said emphatically, “to interface.”
I am willing. I just don’t like being violated like that.
You and me both, Oz.
“Okay,” she said, relaxing back into the console chair and tipping back slightly. “This normally integrates with the navigator’s brain. To what end?”
Sean pulled over the control chair next to her, and perched against it, as he had previously. “The tech integrates psychically. It’s much faster and more accurate than any key pressing or EI. However, it’s normally only used by trained navs.” He turned and indicated around to the other consoles. “The reason being that they’ve been taught to control their instructions and thought processes under pressure.”
“Ohhhh,” Molly mouthed. “So that goes for the gate, as well? Instead of finding some kind of coordinate for where I want to be, I could just…”
Sean was nodding. “Just think of where you want to end up.”
Molly’s eyes were wide. “Wow!” Her eyes scanned the console trying to figure out what she could. “Can I try? Without actually gating us, or jumping, or whatever?”
Sean nodded. “Sure. Here, you’ll need to interface though.” He leaned forward and grabbed a device that had two curved prongs on it. “These bits,” he told her, pointing at the tips, “need to go around your temples.”
Molly took the device and turned it over in her hands. Then she turned it over again to figure out how it went on. Finally, she resolved to putting it on how she might a headband, and then flipped it back to sit on the back of her head while the prongs sat on her temples, as instructed.
“Now what?” she asked.
Sean made a half-smile as he straightened up a little. “Now, think of where you want to be.”
Molly thought hard about the only place she wanted to be. The only place she could think about since this whole base started unfolding for them. Within a second, the console screens had illuminated and started displaying star maps and coordinates.
Sean jumped up and his mouth dropped open as he watched the display. “Fuck! That’s classified intel. How did you know that location?”
Molly smirked. “I didn’t. I just interfaced with your psychic tech… which found the location, as it’s meant to.”
Sean’s eyes were wide again. “But… That’s-”
“The location of the General,” she finished his sentence for him.
Sean took a deep breath and relaxed. “I see…” He looked half-inspired and half-nervous.
Molly grinned. “And it worked!”
“It did,” he conceded, shifting his weight onto the other foot and leaning his hand on her armrest. Then he grinned in genuine delight. “You sound impressed,” he noted.
She pulled the corners of her mouth down. “More surprised,” she quipped. She pulled the device off her head. “How far away is that, anyway?” she asked, handing the device back to him.
Sean looked at the map. “A gazillion light years,” he announced. “But thanks to this baby, maybe twenty minutes.”
Molly’s mouth dropped open this time. “It takes nearly that to get out of the hangar.
Sean winked at her. “Exactly!” He paused. “Although, you haven’t seen me fly,” he added.
Molly shook her head. “Wow. Wow. Wow,” she breathed, looking around the cockpit again.
Sean couldn’t help himself. “So… does this earn me negative dickhead points?” he asked, looking a little sheepish.
Molly half-smiled. “Yeah, I guess.” She paused. “Some.”
Sean popped the head device back into its slot and stood up. “Right, then,” he told her. “I guess we both have stuff to do before our training session.”
Molly shuffled awkwardly out of the control chair. “Yeah. We should get moving,” she said, noticing the time on her holo. “I’ve got some details I need the guys to check into before we firm up our plan for tomorrow.”
Sean flicked a few switches, and the ship started to power down. Then he led Molly back through and out to the invisible stairs. He went down first, but turned around to make sure that she had the handrail okay.
Molly tried not to watch her step, as there was nothing to watch. Logic dictated that the stairs would either adapt to her, like the chairs in the op room, or that they would be spaced for the most effective descent. She trusted, and stepped down one after the other.
She turned her head so that Sean could hear her. “So when you come to Sark, it must feel like you’re coming into the Wild West, or something,” she called forward to Sean.
He turned slightly as he kept stepping down. “Yeah, a little bit,” he called back. “Obviously, the outer system is far less developed than the central ones… but sure. Even Estaria is a bit backward, compared to most places in the Etheric Empire.”
Molly’s mind felt that it had just been stretched by their little show and tell. “That’s pretty cool. I can’t wait to see…”
“You’ll see soon enough, I’m sure,” he commented. They headed up the stairs to the upper level just as Maya and Paige were coming through to the hangar deck.
The two girls seemed engrossed in conversation, though that was nothing new. They were always either talking or laughing, ever since they clapped eyes on each other at the hospital. Molly tried to hear what they were saying. She thought she heard the words “PR” and “nail varnish,” as she and Sean whisked by with waves and appropriate head nods, depending on who was doing the acknowledging.
Please tell me I’m not going to end up helping run another business, Oz.
That, I cannot guarantee, I’m afraid.
Molly shook her head, smiling as she followed Sean back through the double doors to the Demon Door corridor.
Chapter 3
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Common area
Paige came running up to Maya, her heels clicking on the safe house flooring. “Hey, have you got time to talk about those PR connections we discussed a few weeks ago?”
Maya stopped walking and turned to see her. “I was just heading out with Joel to Estaria,” she pointed towards the basement door in the direction she had been heading. “But walk with me…”
Paige grinned and linked arms with her, and Maya squeezed her arm as they trotted down the stairs together.
“So, what do you need?” Maya asked.
Paige shrugged as they made their way down the second flight of steps. “I’m not sure. I’m thinking I need to understand which departments to target first, I guess.”
Maya held the door open for them to head down to the basement. “Sure. So how far along are you with it right now? I mean, have you got anything in production yet?”
Paige shook her head, and pulled her lips to one side, as she started down the stairs. “Nope. Molly has just nailed the formula down. We’re looking at places that might be able to manufacture, then we’ll get some quotes in.”
They stepped into Brock’s workshop. Brock was working away at a new holo terminal they had installed recently. He had his back to them, but heard them coming and waved his arm.
“Hey, Brock,” Paige called. “Hi, Brock,” said Maya in passing.
Then, turning back to Paige, she had serious task face on. “Okay, so we can’t send samples yet. This means you want to start building relationships for now. Tell them what’s unique about what you’re doing; the story behind it. Talk about the science, too. Maybe even see if you can get Molly involved. This is editorial stuff. It’s gold.”
Paige frowned. “So, we don’t actually pre-sell anything, yet? You know, talk about the actual product?”
Maya smiled. “Oh, my dear, this is pre-selling. Editorial is waaahaaaay more powerful than any ad you can place. I’d jump in on this window while you can!” she exclaimed excitedly.
Paige still looked confused. “I don’t understand. You’re saying I just talk about the science, and that will sell it? I thought people hate hearing about the science.”
Maya grinned more broadly. “Well, science and the story. People love a good story. And the reason this is more powerful, is because people’s BS meters are low on editorial.”
Paige seemed to get it. “Ahhh. And high on adverts!”
Maya clicked her fingers and pointed at her friend. “Exactly!”
Paige skipped a little as they headed through the demon door and into the corridor towards the hangar.
Maya thought for a moment. “You know, I have a couple of peeps I could hook you up with for that kind of thing. Lemme see what happens now when we talk to my old boss, and if it’s safe, I’ll make those intros.”
Paige swiped at the door and it whooshed open. Maya stepped out onto the hangar deck staircase first. Paige followed her through. “So that’s the PR taken care of,” Paige smiled, satisfied.
Maya grinned again. “Yeah, this is going to be fashion world domination by the newest nail varnish technology!” They giggled.
Just then, Molly and Sean appeared, coming up the staircase. Paige waved vigorously, grinning her excited grin. Maya beamed, and did a playful, yet respectful, mock salute at the pair.
Molly and Sean seemed engrossed in conversation and simply nodded politely with their characteristic space-marine nods.
Once past them and down on the hangar deck, Paige chuckled again and spoke in a low voice into Maya’s ear. “You know, they must think that we’re a pair of teenagers.” She rolled her lips inwards, considering. “We should probably be more professional around the base.”
Maya shook her head. “Let’s not,” she winked.
Paige opened her mouth in shock, trying not to smile; her eyes giving her amusement away. “You’re kidding?” she asked.
Maya shook her head. “Hell no. Why should we have to pretend to have a stick up our ass? What purpose would it serve?”
Paige frowned, considering. After a moment she yielded. “Yeah. I mean, the military has their way of doing things, and ways of being; but if we’re respectful and get the job done, I can’t imagine anyone would care.”
Maya grinned. “Exactly.”
They had arrived over at the pods, and Joel was already there, waiting. “What are you two plotting?” he called as they approached from the walkway.
Paige and Maya looked at each other and then back at Joel, looking as wide eyed and innocent as possible. “Nothing!” they said in unison.
He smirked. “You said that faaaaar too quickly!” He swiped at the access panel of the nearest pod. “Anyway, Paige, I’m going to have to borrow your partner in crime for a little while. Think you can manage without her till we get back?”
Paige unlinked Maya’s arm, made a pretend sad face, and sniffed as if crying. “I’ll try,” she said, brushing an imaginary tear from her cheek.
Maya slapped her arm playfully. “You’re such a drama queen!”
In perfect timing, Paige grasped at where Maya’s tap had hit her arm, and pretended to clench it in pain. “Oowwwwwww! I’m not!”
Joel turned and got into the pod to hide his smile. “Oh, these two are trouble with a capital ‘T’!” he mumbled to Oz as he got in.
Oz clicked into voice mode. “I’m modeling their behaviors. At this time, I can’t see them negatively impacting any of the operations at all. Am I missing something?”
Joel sighed. “Yes, Oz. I was referring to their social dynamic. When women pal up like that, it normally means they can end up giving us guys more shit than we bargained for.”
Oz was silent for a moment.
Paige and Maya hugged, and Maya bounced over to the pod, waving over her shoulder.
“Okay. I’ve factored that variable into my heuristic,” Oz disclosed quickly, before Maya swung herself up into the pod and plunked down next to Joel.
Joel chuckled a little. “Okay Oz, lemme know how that evolves. I’ll be interested in the model you come up with.”
“Will do,” Oz agreed. “We’re off to Newstainment, correct?”
Joel reached back to grab his harness, and nodded for Maya to do the same. “That’s correct, Oz. Make it so!”
The front panel of the pod started to close, and Maya and Paige waved vigorously to each other.
Joel raised his hand a little in a goodbye. “You know you’re going to see her again in a few hours.”
Maya didn’t even look at him. “I know,” she said, unencumbered by the natural seriousness of the military that she, Paige, and Brock seemed to naturally unsubscribe from.
Joel said nothing, but wondered what Oz was making of it. A moment later, the pod lifted off and whisked them out into space on their usual route.
“Hey, there’s something I was going to ask you about,” Maya said as they swept away from the asteroid.
Joel glanced down at her. “Yeah?”
“Molly,” she stated.
Joel raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Yes?”
Maya sighed, choosing her words as carefully as she could. “Erm… So. I, er, had a strange conversation with her after the team meeting earlier.”
Joel frowned a little. “About?”
Maya naturally mimicked his frown. “Erm. I’m not sure. It was… odd.” She paused. “I… I wonder if she was coming on to me, or something.”
Joel took a second to process what she was telling him. Maya looked up at him, waiting for his response. A moment later, he slapped his thigh hard with a crack, and exploded in laughter.
“That is the funniest thing I’ve heard all week!” he guffawed, almost uncontrollably.
Maya looked shocked and slipped sideways across the benchseat away from him, to better take in what was happening. Stunned, she watched him try to get control of himself.
“Molly… is… well…” Maya could see he was crying with laughter. Tears streamed down his face faster than he could wipe them away.
“I’m sorry. But it’s just…” He creased up in another fit of laughter, trying desperately to catch his breath.
A moment later, Maya found herself snickering along with him; amused mostly at his amusement.
Eventually, they managed to settle down. Joel sighed. “Phew. Wow. Okay,” he started. “Lemme explain what probably happened.”
Maya grinned. “Yes… Please do!” she demanded playfully, feeling a lot more comfortable than she had several minutes before.
Joel glanced back at her briefly. “Okay, so Molly has been working on her team management skills, and one of the tasks she had was to talk to a few team members about what motivates them.”
Maya tilted her head a little. “Right…” she said slowly, following his explanation.
Joel bobbed his head, reached out to the handrail, and turned to look at her a little more. “Right. So I think what happened was she was trying to talk with you about that… and because she’s a little socially awkward sometimes-”
Maya nodded. “Ahhhh, I see.” Maya raised her chin in understanding.
“Yeah.” Joel was quiet for a moment, glad the explanation was easy for her to comprehend.
Maya giggled, and flushed a little. “Well. Great. I mean, that’s a relief. I just… I didn’t know what to do.”
Joel smiled. “Yeah, you don’t need to worry about Molly. She’d be very clear, almost clinical, about anything like that. And I suspect she wouldn’t be propositioning team members.”
Maya slumped back into the seat. “Good to know,” she nodded.
The pod approached Estaria, and started the descent.
Joel noticed and changed the subject. “Okay, we should probably talk about what we’re going to tell your old boss…”
Maya frowned, and became serious. “Yes. This, perhaps, isn’t going to be quite so straight forward,” she sighed.
Newstainment Offices, Downtown Spire
It was early evening as the pod descended into Spire to deposit Joel and Maya on top of the Newstainment parking lot. From there, they made their way through to reception and, after signing in, were directed up to Maya’s old office.
Striding through the corridors, they found most offices were fairly quiet. Not deserted, because, well, the news industry had a certain work ethic; but quieter than in the middle of the day. Maya hoped that this would at least mean that Bob wasn’t going to be tied up in meetings.
They headed through the final corridor and into the open plan newsroom. Sweeping past the cubicles, Maya scanned the office for anyone she might want to say something to. Like “goodbye”. Or “stay in touch”. Or something…
She’d only been away a few weeks, but already the place felt alien to her.
They rounded the pillar and had a clear view of Bob’s office. He was alone.
Good, thought Maya. That will make this easier. Straight in and out.
She and Joel jogged up the steps to his office. Bob sensed the movement, and looked up from his holo. When he saw Maya, he looked surprised and stood up straight away.
She hesitated at the glass door, and then pushed it open. Joel held it open above her head and helped her push through.
Bob came around his desk to greet her. “Maya. You just disappeared. How’s your grandmother?” He grasped her by both shoulders, not entirely knowing if she was okay or not.
Maya shook her head. “Sorry, Bob. I just had to tell you that so you wouldn’t worry.”
Bob had suspected as much, and nodded, concerned. He looked up at the stranger with her. Maya noticed and turned to Joel. “This is Joel. He and his team have been looking after me.”
Joel stuck out his hand, and Bob took it. It took a split second, but as the new information sank in, Bob’s handshake became more vigorous. “Thank you. Thank you for keeping her safe,” he told Joel.
Joel made the right noises, and Bob’s attention went back to Maya. “So you’re okay? You’ve not been hurt?”
Maya shook her head. “I’m fine. I got caught up in something, though, and I think you’re in danger, too. That’s why we’re here.”
Bob ushered them to sit down. “So you’re not here to come back to work?” His eye twinkled a little, though his face was serious. Maya couldn’t tell if he really meant to push her to come back to work, so she assumed it was just his way of parsing the information that he was having to take on board.
Maya and Joel sat in the chairs in front of Bob’s desk. These were visitor chairs.
Staff normally stood - on account of it making their exit from his office faster when they were dismissed.
Joel glanced at Maya, and decided to step in. “Mr. August, we’re here because we believe you’re in danger.”
Bob looked nonplussed. He waved his hand. “I’m always in danger - if I’m doing my job right,” he added.
Joel nodded in agreement. “Perhaps. But this is different. And Maya is involved.” Joel’s tone was respectful and commanding at the same time.
Bob sat back in his chair, some of his bravado fading away. “I’m listening,” he told the former space-marine.
Joel realized something, and stopped talking. He tapped two fingers to his ear.
Bob took a second to realize, and then suddenly started getting up, nodding.
Joel stood up with him.
Maya looked at them, wondering what was going on. Bob reached for his atmosjacket off the back of his chair. “Well, it sounds like this is something best discussed over a drink.”
Joel bobbed his head. “You don’t hear any arguments from me. Where did you have in mind?”
Maya caught on, and got up, too.
Bob had his jacket on, and was opening his office door for his visitors. “Quaint little place across the street. Shall we?”
Maya grinned at the cunningness, not believing for one second they were actually going to show up at O’Neil’s across the street. “Yes. Good thinking, boss.”
She led the way out of the office, closely followed by Bob and Joel.
* * *
The three of them arrived in the abandoned parking lot that Bob used on occasion to meet sources who were especially sensitive about being seen with him.
The place was ideal, as it had two entrances; both of which were blocks from where the actual meeting place was. No one watching from outside could possibly track where they were going.
“We shouldn’t be heard here,” Bob told them.
Joel looked around him. “How about followed?” he asked.
Bob shook his head. “Too convoluted; plus you need key card access to get here from the street. No way they could have followed us.”
Maya looked around. “This place is creepy,” she grimaced, wrapping her arms around her as if she were cold, rather than just creeped out.
Bob grinned. “Which just adds to the clandestine feel when you’re meeting sources,” he winked. “Whistleblowers love it,” he told her, tapping the side of his nose; still teaching her.
He turned his attention back to Joel. “Okay. So what’s going down?” he asked.
Over the next twenty minutes, the three of them stood talking in hushed tones, their voices drowned out by the sounds of water pipes and ventilation units from the restaurants above.
When they were almost done, Joel made his final suggestion. “We should have this wrapped up by tomorrow, but we don’t know what the fallout might be from their lackeys.” He looked seriously at Bob. “You’re a good man. You don’t need to get caught up in this. Get out of town for a few weeks, and let this cool off. You’ll be able to return when it settles.”
Bob opened his mouth to argue, but then realized he’d had this very same discussion more times than he could count. Normally he was on the other side of the conversation, though. Sometimes he had been right, and the person didn’t heed his warning. Sometimes he’d been wrong. But given the decision matrix, and the number of times he’d wished he hadn’t been right, he knew the smart thing to do was to take Joel’s advice.
He yielded, and nodded affably. “You’re right. I’ll have someone fill in for me, and I’ll stay off-grid for a little while.” He looked at Joel with genuine gratitude and respect. Then he turned to Maya. “I suppose this means you’ll be heading off-world indefinitely, then?” he asked.
Maya nodded sadly. “Yes. I think I have things to do, being a part of this team.”
Bob nodded his understanding, and looked down at his feet. Maya touched his arm gently. “You’ve been an incredible mentor to me Bob,” she told him.
He looked up and met her eyes.
She smiled, her eyes still sad. “Thank you. For everything. I wouldn’t be who I am today without your support.”
Joel could see a tear forming in Bob’s eye. He turned and walked a few paces away, letting the two have their moment. He kept one eye on their surroundings, and the other on the two, making sure they were safe.
Eventually they had said everything they needed to, and Bob led them back through his secret entrance in the back of another car park. He left them on the street as he headed back to his office to wrap things up.
* * *
Maya was quiet on the ride back to the base.
Joel spoke to her gently as they both watched the starscape whizzing past their window. “It’s always hard moving on. You won’t be lonely, though. You’ve got a team who have got your back now, and you’re going to help a lot of good people in this new life.”
Maya glanced up at him, and then back out of the window. “I know. It will be fine,” she agreed.
Chapter 4
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Molly’s conference room
Joel and Sean were deep in conversation as they made their way into the conference room for the meeting of Molly’s “generals,” as she called them. This was the inner circle she was developing, the next tier of leaders for her expanding team.
Joel allowed Sean to step through the doorway first. “So, are your reflexes enhanced, too, then?” he asked Sean.
Sean grinned a toothy smile and turned, walking backward around the table for a few paces. “That is need-to-know, mate,” he told him.
Joel didn’t miss a beat. “And lemme guess. I don’t need to know.” His voice was tinged with resignation as he followed Sean around to a couple of empty seats.
Sean slapped Joel on the arm. “You’re getting it,” he told him, pulling out a chair and sitting down.
Maya and Molly were already sitting at the table, chatting idly as each worked on their holos.
Molly looked up at the group when Sean sat down next to her. “Okay, let’s get started,” she said.
She glanced over at Sean. “You have some intel?” she prompted.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “I was in touch with Garet through our secret server, and it seems that The Syndicate have a meeting tomorrow. We have a location, too.”
Joel breathed deeply, looking a little uncomfortable. “How do we feel about his intel?” he asked, catching Molly’s eye and then glancing at Sean.
Molly shook her head. “You mean, do we trust Garet?”
Joel nodded. Sean looked down at his own hands clasped in front of him.
Joel tilted his head to one side. “I dunno. If it wasn’t our only option, I’d be recommending that we don’t touch his intel.” He sucked air through his teeth. “But, at this point, we’re running short on options.”
Molly nodded softly and made a note on her holo to remind her to think if there were any other options. Then she glanced at Sean. “Sean?” she asked. “You’ve been working with him all this time. Thoughts?”
Sean started speaking, still looking at his hands. “When I was assigned to him, it was as his… handler, as it were.” He looked up, trying to judge Molly’s reaction. Molly didn’t bat an eyelid. He continued. “My interactions with him were brief, and sometimes I was relaying the General’s orders to him. Sometimes, though, he was making a request of me, mostly for protection or getting messages to the General… But I never could tell if he was just playing both sides.”
Molly hung her head, processing what she had just heard. Sean seemed to have said what he needed to. Or at least, all he was ready to divulge at this point.
Molly looked sideways to their new investigator before looking back at the table to listen intently. “Maya?”
Maya sat back, and took a breath. “I’m also in two minds about it. On the one hand, I don’t think I trust him; but on the other hand, given our time constraints, and the risks we and the General population face if we leave them in power as we move forward, I can’t in good conscience vote to do nothing.”
She pulled her mouth to one side. “Though, like Joel said, all other things being equal, it would be good to not have to rely on his intel. I just don’t think we have that luxury.”
Molly was still looking at the table. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a Gemini,” Molly commented. “Either way, we’ll have to reevaluate our relationship with Garet going forward. He’s potentially a weak link.”
She shook her head, looking a little defeated. “But it sounds like this is a risk we’re going to have to take. Let’s just look at how we mitigate that risk.”
She looked to Joel. “Want to talk us through some scenarios, based on the intel Garet has supplied? The first scenario assumes his intel is accurate. Then we want to look at variables assuming it’s a trap, or that he’s tipped off one or all members, and anything else we can think of.”
Joel sat up and shifted in his chair. “Sure. It’s a bitch, though,” he glanced at Sean, briefly before continuing. “The meeting is taking place at the Senate House.”
Maya’s mouth dropped open.
Joel noticed but kept talking. “This just means that we’ll be dropping in with the pods in the center of the city, probably with the most well-protected airspace.”
Maya started to say something, but Joel held up a hand. “It’s okay. We can do it. Oz and Crash are able to hold air traffic control at bay. They have a plan. But that’s just obstacle number one. We then need to get into the building, with government security and staff. Plus, they’ll have their own personal guards. Let me show you how this will work, though.”
The meeting ran for several hours, with various breakout times for the necessary research, and conferencing with individual team members. Maya even raised the questions of how soon they might find another opportunity to take them down, and what the odds were of being able to get to them in a less risky environment. Sean assured them that this was going to be both a long time and unlikely.
Eventually, they all agreed this was their best option. They had their plan, complete with contingencies in case it was a trap.
Molly brought the meeting to a close. “Okay, folks. This has got to be as slick as possible. We can’t afford to make one wrong move. Remember, we don’t want any casualties on the government front. These are the people we’re trying to help. They’re not our enemy. The Syndicate is. So that means fast in and out; and, if nothing goes wrong, the only casualties will be Syndicate members.”
Maya raised an eyebrow, and glanced down the table at the team. “And their bank balances,” she added dryly.
Had the others not been so focused on the task in hand, they may have chuckled. As it was, no one at the table thought that this was going to be a walk in the park. The fact that they were going to have to hit The Syndicate in the Senate House, the very place they would normally want to protect, didn’t help them feel any better about it.
Gaitune-67, Hangar deck
The next morning, the assault team was assembled on the hangar deck, ready to go. Crash, Joel, Jack, Sean, and Molly were suited and booted, locked and loaded; ready to take The Syndicate out, while leaving the rest of the inhabitants of the Senate House stunned, at the most, and hopefully, otherwise unharmed.
Pieter stood by, holo open, checking on details they had available. “I haven’t got a live feed, obviously, because of the distances, but Oz and I have been through the shift patterns and so on for some time. The meeting lands in the middle of a shift, so there’s no getting around that.”
Molly was finishing buckling up her holsters as Pieter briefed them on the final details he had found. Sean stood with his arms folded. “Weapons set to stun, then, I guess,” he said, resigned to the task they faced.
Just then, Brock came jogging up to them carrying a bunch of tiny canisters. “Hold up, folks. I got something that may help!” he called.
The group looked around to see. He started handing out the canisters a couple at a time to each team member on the mission.
“What’s this?” Joel asked.
Brock smiled. “A present.” He finished handing them out, and held onto one. “Okay, these contain a simple knockout gas. It becomes inert within forty seconds, but anyone who inhales it will be knocked out for a good fifteen minutes. The worst they’ll have when they wake up is perhaps a bit of a headache. That’s it.”
Molly grinned. “Excellent work, Brock!” She paused, examining the canister. “Where did you get these?”
Brock smiled brightly. “Well, yesterday when you guys had finished talking to Crash about the mission, I wondered if there were a way to distribute something that would help you avoid casualties. Turns out there was just a simple recipe from some of the med supplies we’ve accumulated with the research we’ve been doing with Eugene.”
He bent his knees dramatically, and then swung his hips as he held up his canister. “Aaaand,” he told them, “the delivery canisters, I found in the armory.” He held it in one hand, then gestured with the other as if to say “ta-da!”
The group chuckled. Joel tapped Brock on the top of his arm. “Good man. And thank you!” he exclaimed.
Sean punched Brock lightly on the front of his shoulder, and Jack held one of hers up and nodded. “Thanks!” she said, trying to be more friendly than commando. She’d already tucked one into her atmosuit leg pocket, and was looking for a way to stow the other one.
Molly looked around at the warriors. “Okay. I think we’re looking good to go. Any last questions?” She scanned the faces in front of her. No one raised a hand or spoke.
She glanced at Joel. “Okay. Your mission,” she told him.
Joel circled his finger in the air at shoulder height. “Okay, folks. Let’s wrap up and move out.”
The team clambered into their pods, and was out of the hangar deck before Pieter or Brock could say “jumping jacks”.
The pair stood watching the pods disappear out the open door and out of the forcefield.
Pieter sighed. “If I were a gambling man,” he said, eyes still on the opening in the hangar, but turning his head slightly to Brock, ”which I’m not, anymore… I’d say not to trust that Garet.”
Brock nodded grimly. “I bet you’re right.”
One mile out from Senate Building
Molly watched her pod’s heads-up display and listened to the chatter on the inter-pod channel. Crash and Oz were negotiating with air traffic control.
Crash was running interference. “Roger that, Control. It seems my nav is off by twenty degrees.”
“Correct your course and reduce your altitude, or else we will fire,” came their steely response. Molly’s heart was beating faster than she had expected.
Oz continued to drop the pods, keeping them in close formation and behaving like a rogue car that had gone off course from the strato highway. They must only just have been picked up on the city radar, as their shape would be deflecting most of the radiation.
They dropped another twenty feet, and the city appeared beneath them. “Almost there,” came Crash’s voice over the private channel. Molly could see Jack and Sean in the next pod over. She didn’t have a visual on Crash and Joel, but imagined Crash doing his usual thing with absolute composure. The anxiety and personality he was putting into his voice was purely to sell it to Control.
Another few moments and Control reported back. “Mr. Ashworth, you are now clear of our airspace. Please get your nav system seen-to by a registered mechanic. This incident has been recorded, and we will be in touch.”
Sounds like he’s managed to get himself another ticket.
Molly rolled her eyes. Old habits die hard.
Want me to get rid of that off their system while I’m in there?
No. I need you to focus on getting us in and out of the building as swiftly as possible. Are you into their camera feed yet?
Yes. They have their full staff at their normal places.
Molly pursed her lips. She hated to change the plan at the last moment, but…
Oz, can you tell if there is another entrance that has fewer security personnel on it? Include upper levels in your sweep.
Okay.
Molly hit the buttons to talk to all pods. “Folks, we’re reassessing the entry point. Stand by,” she told them.
She knew from the training manuals she’d been reading that shifting plans would put her people under more stress than is necessary. But this might be their way of getting their results and risking fewer casualties in the process.
Oz came back with the results, and put a three dimensional map of the building onto the display.
Looks like the second floor is most vulnerable, on account of the windows being reinforce-fielded. They have fewer people there.
And you can deactivate the forcefield?
Building-wide would take too long. But I can do one segment, and get you through the window to an office. You’ll have to blast through the window, though, causing damage that we wanted to avoid.
Molly made a command decision. Breaking a window is preferable to shooting government employees who are just doing their job. Relay the new plan to the others.
She checked her pockets.
I have a charge like we used to free the hostages. I only have one, and you’ll need to get me close enough…
Roger that.
The team each acknowledged the change in their breach point, and Oz took the pods up against the side of the building. Keeping them close to the walls to avoid being spotted, he then swung Molly’s pod close to the window.
Molly was already out of her seat, charge in one hand, the other hanging on to the seat harness, as Oz gently drew the pod a little closer and opened the front door section for her.
Forcefield down?
Affirmative. You’re good to go.
The window was one of the secure, atmosphere-resistant ones that she’d seen in many a building. They were impervious to normal force. But against an explosive charge? Probably not.
She stuck the charge to the middle of the window, looking inside to make sure the area was clear. It was someone’s office. She spotted the holoframed family photo on the desk, and little animals made from folded paper. For a moment, her heart sunk at the mundaneness of working in an office; grateful she would never have to live that life, while simultaneously scared to death of a strange twist of fate that might plunge her back into normality.
She pulled her focus back to the charge.
Ready, Oz?
Affirmative.
She pulled the pin, and then fell back into the pod. Oz closed the door and whipped the pod out of the blast zone.
A couple of seconds later, there was a bang. Two seconds after that, alarms started sounding.
Okay, Oz. Take us in, and feed us directions to the target room.
The pods deposited the team at the window one by one, and then disappeared out of sight.
Molly was the first into the room. The blast had blown the desk away, and left a mess of broken up furniture and a small fire smoldering away about ten feet into the room. She hopped out of the way, and took care of the fire with an extinguisher from the corner next to a supplies cupboard. By the time she was done, the rest of the team was in the room, and Sean was checking the corridor for security guards.
He called quietly into the room, “We have incoming.”
Jack swung around to look through the doorway down the other side, hearing footsteps from the opposite direction.
She pulled out a Brock-canister and looked briefly at Sean. “Smoke ‘em, then wait? Or smoke ‘em then run?”
Sean grinned. “You know, you’re my kinda girl,” he told her affectionately. Then he turned to the others who were assembling by the door. “Joel, we good to deploy the smoke, then hold our breaths to get through?”
Joel checked the distances on his holo map to the end of the corridor. “Affirmative,” he told Sean.
Sean and Jack looked at each other, pressed the clips on the canisters, and then tossed the devices down their respective sides of the corridor, into the approaching flurry of building security.
White clouds erupted, and Jack pulled back a little, pressing herself against the wall on her side of the room.
She looked at Joel. “Shit, those things pack a punch as well as a knockout!” She swiped at her face as if hoping to wipe off any traces of the mist that she might have been exposed to. Joel was over like a shot, his hands on both her shoulders, checking to make sure she was okay. Satisfied, he pulled Sean back from the door a little, too. “Careful. Best wait a few moments,” he cautioned.
Sean stepped back from the doorway and nodded. Crash, who had been the last one into the office, was standing well back, but even he could see traces of the mist coming up to the doorway.
The team waited for what seemed like an eternity. Eventually, Joel looked up from his holo where he had been timing the canisters. “Okay. Let’s move,” he told them. “But careful; the gas isn’t inert for another ten seconds.”
Sean and Jack advanced first, almost side-by-side, sweeping and scanning as they went. Molly followed them, walking backwards, checking the way they had come, and scanning the corridor the other way.
Lastly, Joel and Crash followed; carefully stepping over the bodies of the sleeping security guards, who would have one heck of a story to tell their kids when they got home later that day.
The team moved deftly through the corridor. On Oz’s instructions, they turned into a stairwell and headed down. They moved quickly, as if they were one organism. At the bottom of the stairwell, Jack, Sean, and Joel went out first, guns set to stun.
The advantage of breaching at a different point was that security was moving toward the blast, while the rest of the staff had started moving out of the building.
Joel reassessed the situation. He turned to the others and signaled to Sean to lower his weapon, which he did immediately, understanding what Joel was about to suggest. Sean put his weapon away, and Jack looked confused for a moment.
Then Joel put his weapon away.
Jack and the others followed suit.
Joel stepped out into the busy corridor, and, walking against the current of people leaving, he strode as if he were there on official business to sort the problem out. No one batted an eyelid at the strike team making their way through the corridors.
Joel led them down the final corridor and into the office suite where they needed to be. There, he found a secretary picking up her purse as if making to leave. Joel signaled for her to get gone; bewildered, she looked at the entourage behind him. Eyes wide, she whimpered unintelligibly, then grabbed her key card, coat, and purse, and left as quickly as she could.
Joel stopped outside what looked like a boardroom, with big heavy wooden doors.
He thumbed at it, looking at Molly. Just then, an Ogg appeared from around the corner. “Hey!” he called. “You’re not meant to be here.”
The team looked at him. Molly frowned. There was something about him that seemed… familiar. “Who are you?” she asked.
The Ogg looked back at her. “Who are you?” he retorted.
Just then, a second Ogg appeared from around the corner. This one was running. Or, rather, waddling. “Erik, Erik, they’re all going!” he exclaimed in mild panic.
Molly suddenly recognised the pair from the hotel where they had originally extracted Garet, from her own kidnapping, and then again from the Dewitt incident. Without further hesitation, she pulled her gun on Erik and took a step forward.
“I guess this is what you get by setting your weapons to stun. The shit just keeps coming back… Probably time you took a break,” she told him, tilting her head for him to leave.
Erik scowled, his pride galvanizing his stance and his face.
She raised the weapon to the middle of his forehead. He took half a step backward. Then another step. The other Ogg looked horrified and panicked. Molly could see him out of the corner of her eye. He clasped his hands out in front of him, then danced a little on the spot. “Eriiiiiiik. Errrriiiiik!” he shrieked quietly, as if trying to convince Erik to surrender.
Erik looked annoyed. “Shut uuuup, Henry!” he tried to whisper, as if Molly and her team standing around looking at them casually couldn’t hear them.
Henry quieted down, and looked on in horror.
Erik started to raise his hands in compliance, but then Henry remembered he was carrying a weapon.
“Ooo.. OOOOoooo!” he exclaimed excitedly, reaching back to pull the weapon from the back of his belt.
Molly didn’t take her eyes off her target, but she could see what was happening. Joel casually pulled out his own weapon and stepped towards Henry, powering up the weapon and pointing it at his temple in one sweeping, relaxed movement.
Henry froze, and his eyes ticked left, trying to see the gun barrel at the side of his head. Slowly, he continued to pull out the gun; which Joel took out of his hand, and passed backwards to Jack, who switched it off and tucked it into her own belt.
“We’ll be going in, now,” she told the two Oggs. She lowered her weapon and stepped past Erik, confident that the others would put him down the instant he tried anything.
She reached for the door, turned the knob, and pushed it open, cautiously holding her weapon out in front of her. Once the door was open, she stepped forward with both hands on her weapon, sweeping the room for bogeys.
The room was practically empty of people. No Syndicate meeting. No cauldron of evil-doers, plotting the destruction of the world. Just a big boardroom table with a lone person sitting at the far end.
A lone person, who goes by the name of Garet Beaufort.
“Let them come!” he called through to Henrik.
Molly couldn’t resist. She glanced back at Erik, and smirked as a child would when the parent sides with one sibling over another. She did it just to irritate him.
It worked.
Erik flounced off, pushing roughly past Henry, who nearly lost his balance and fell into Joel, who just stood back out of the way and let him stumble.
Jack followed Molly into the room, and the two boys fell in behind, like a full, beefy protection squad.
Molly waved her weapon at the empty room. “So where’s my party?” she asked, annoyance flashing in her eyes.
Garet waved at the chairs, inviting them to sit down. None of them moved. “They decided they didn’t want to be here,” he said, trying to keep the anxiety out of his tone.
“You told them we were coming?” she asked, keeping her voice low and steady.
Garet tried not to show he was intimidated. “Not exactly. There was a last minute change of plans,” he told her.
Molly started walking the length of the boardroom toward him. “You had us storm a fucking government building for nothing?” Now she was pissed.
Garet held up his hands defensively. “I swear. It wasn’t my fault. They already knew. And I had no way of telling you. Besides if I had, they would know it was me that grassed them up…”
Molly was almost on top of him, panic rising in him the closer she got. She pushed past a chair that hadn’t been tucked in properly, and it crashed against the desk, causing the whole table to resound with a thump.
Garet pushed back in his chair a little in fright, and Molly kept striding toward him. “You twatface-”
Everything went black.
* * *
The next thing Garet was aware of was waking up, slumped back in his chair, blood congealing around his nose and upper lip, and seeing the team sitting and loitering strategically around him. Molly sat calmly on the other end of the boardroom table, glaring.
“Finally,” she said, when he came to. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” she began without waiting to make sure he was compos mentis enough to understand her. “You’re going to tell us everything we need to know to undo this clusterfuck. Then we’re going to have a little chat about how things are going to work going forward. Joel here has placed a tracker under your skin, next to your radial artery.”
Garet frowned, and looked down at his body, his eyes scanning all around in their sockets.
Molly rolled her eyes. “That’s in your arm, you dickhead.”
He looked back up at her, annoyed. Then he looked down at his right forearm, realizing that it was aching like a motherfucker, and saw there was a little blood, halfway down.
Molly continued. “Basically, if you try and extract it, you’ll probably end up bleeding out. We’re going to want to have another chat with you once we’ve verified that what you’re about to tell us is accurate and helpful. What happens to you at such time depends on how much you manage to redeem yourself in the interim.”
Crash had moved toward the window, and now opened it up, using his holo to communicate with Oz about the forcefield and the pods.
Sean then talked quietly with Garet, taking down the details they needed to track down the other Syndicate members.
120 seconds later, the strike team was stepping out of the window and back into their pods.
Garet stayed planted in his chair, fussing with his arm. “Wow - I liked it better when I was your client,” he smirked, reminding Molly of the time when she was trying to protect him, and he ended up with his face planted unceremoniously in her crotch.
Joel turned back as he swung himself up to the window. He glared at him.
Garet quickly raised his hands, palms facing Joel. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry!”
Joel gave him a quick warning look before stepping out onto the window ledge and into the pod, closely followed by Molly and Sean.
Alone again in the room, Garet mused to himself. “Funny how events have a way of turning around like this, eh?”
Within a few minutes, the team had disappeared off into space again. The security team of the Senate House was aware they had been breached, but was none-the-wiser about what had actually happened.
Chapter 5
One hour earlier
“The way I see it, we’ve got two choices,” Garet explained, pacing up and down in the tiny room. “We either stay united, or we scatter.”
Mac shuffled his weight from one foot to the other, his shiny shoes out of place against the filthy floor in the dark musty back room. “We’re safer alone,” he disagreed. “We can disappear more easily.”
His tone was decisive.
Jessica pulled her shawl closer around her for comfort. She looked over to Andus for his ruling. He looked up at the group. “I have a safe house. I can take anyone who wants to come.” He waved his hand to Mac. “However, if you want to try and make your own way, feel free.”
Jessica looked at him intensely. “I’m with you,” she confirmed without hesitation.
The group looked at Garet. Garet rocked back half an inch on his heels. He paused a moment, then spoke. “I’m going to head back to the Senate House and carry on as normal. If I don’t, they’ll know I tipped you off.
Jessica frowned at him as if he had lost the plot. “If you do, they’ll still know!” she protested.
He shook his head. “Uh uh; they won’t know for certain. It’ll cast doubt. I’ll carry on as if everything is normal. Just don’t tell me your plans, because I’ll have to tell them. They have ways…” his voice trailed off.
Jessica had the distinct impression that Garet was genuinely afraid of what these people were capable of. Her voice was still incredulous when she spoke. “We’ve already told you!” She looked to Andus for back up.
Andus nodded calmly.
Garet turned to go. “Okay. I’ll let you get on with this. I’m going back. Good luck…”
And with that, he left.
Once he was out of earshot, the remaining Syndicate members started talking, arguing, and trying to decide what to do next.
Molly Bates was coming for them now.
Their fancy security would only hold her off for so long. They knew that. They now knew what the team was capable of, having underestimated them on numerous occasions.
Before, it was simply an annoyance. A setback.
Now it was downright terrifying.
Newld Residence, Spire
Jessica arrived home with two extra security teams, who whisked her efficiently into her super secure apartment.
One team of the four stayed inside the apartment with her. Another team of 16 surrounded the building and main entry points: car park, elevators, her private entrance, the rooftop, and balcony. The other staked out various points. Nothing short of a helicopter hit squad was getting in here.
So why don’t I feel safe? she wondered.
She put the kettle on and leaned against the kitchen counter, watching the alpha team sweep through the rest of her apartment. She was pissed that she had to change her plans. It would have been simple for Garet to run, too. Or at least to leave before she had disclosed her intentions to stay with Andus.
Now, staying with Andus would have left them both vulnerable.
Now, she had to remain on her own.
Which bites.
She took her shoes off and poured herself a chamomile tea, hoping to calm her nerves.
Then she sat down in the living room to wait.
Undisclosed bar, Somewhere in Spire
Andus stepped elegantly out of his limo in a well-lit parking garage, his two most trusted Estarian bodyguards by his side. Looking around the surroundings for any hint of a threat, they followed him to a door that put them into the service area of a hotel.
Andus made his way through the narrow corridor, and out into the main foyer where there were plenty of people. Wending his way through the foyer and out of the main doors, he headed left, and then disappeared into a small door in the next alley.
Stepping into the darkness, he paused, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the light. The second Estarian bodyguard quietly closed the door behind them, blocking out any remaining sunlight. They found themselves in a passage, covered with a threadbare carpet, thick with dust and dirt. Andus took a deep breath, and seemed to relax a little as he started making his way down the passage to another door.
The passageway opened out into a mini lobby area with a grimy little counter where an attendant sat, absorbed in his holo. When he heard their footsteps, he looked up – and then jumped out of his seat when he saw who was approaching.
“Mr. Andus, sir,” he exclaimed, surprised. His holo screens were still projecting from his wrist, forgotten.
Andus ambled up to the counter. “I see we’re always ready for business,” he commented dryly, looking down at the attendant’s wrist holo.
The attendant sheepishly closed it down and turned around to reach for a key. Grabbing the correct one off the hook, he scurried around the counter to join Andus on the other side. “This way, please, sir,” he said, leading the way off to the right of the desk, where he pressed a button to an elevator and keyed in a code.
The elevator doors slid open, and the group stepped in, followed by the much shorter Estarian attendant. He swiped his key and then hit a combination of buttons. The elevator doors slid closed, and the car dropped down several floors worth of altitude.
Eventually it came to a halt.
The two Estarian bodyguards looked slightly anxious. Whether it was the tight space and the feeling of claustrophobia, or the depth they had gone to, one couldn’t tell. Andus, however, seemed quite content as he followed the attendant out of the elevator and down a stone-floored passageway.
Passing several doors, the attendant finally stopped outside the one door that seemed more high tech than the others. He stood aside and motioned to Andus that he was free to enter. The door had a single access panel, and was field-protected, too.
Andus stepped up to the panel and leaned in with his eyes. The retinal scanner activated, read his eyes, and approved his access. The field dropped and the door slid open. Andus thanked the attendant and stepped inside, followed by his heavies.
Once inside, he started peeling off his atmosuit and making himself at home. On the other side of the vault-like door was a medium-sized apartment. The entrance way opened into a library and lounging area, with real paper books. Further along, there was a kitchen; opposite that, there was a dining table with chairs. Just beyond that, there were sleeping quarters with bathroom facilities.
Andus signaled for his security to check the place.
They went ahead and did a sweep, and returned to the front area, satisfied. Andus then spoke to them in a low voice, explaining the protocols they should be familiar with for making sure that their movements here weren’t tracked. They discussed food deliveries and emergency extractions. Once Andus was satisfied they knew the ropes, he dismissed them.
The two Estarians left, and started talking with the attendant on the other side of the door. After a few seconds, Andus could hear three sets of footsteps leaving. He wandered through the apartment, looking around, making sure he had everything that he needed. He flicked on the mocha machine, and then headed back through to the library to choose some reading material.
Such a shame Jessica decided to take her chances at her own home. He imagined she would have been pleasant company for however long they needed to remain underground.
Still, he looked around the apartment, she was high-maintenance, and there isn’t that much space. He settled down with his book, and wondered if it was too early for a martini.
East of Spire, Somewhere in the Savannah desert
The space car hovered across the miles and miles of sand of the Navanah desert. Mac Kerr sat in the nav’s seat as the pilot navigated between two brewing sandstorms and a slip stream of thermals.
“Nearly there,” the pilot said over the comms. “I hope after this, we’re even.” It was hard to make out his tone over the sound of the engine and through the distortion of the radio, but Mac had no doubt what the guy meant.
Well, what else should I expect? I had him by the short and curlies, and he owed me one… Mac thought to himself.
Mac turned his head to his acquaintance and nodded. “Yes, we’re even. As long as no one is able to trace me here because of you.” He paused thinking for a moment. “I should take a different route back, and maybe head into a different airfield, if I were you,” he concluded. His track record in escape and evasion were what had kept him alive so long in the outer system.
The pilot glanced at him and nodded, slight irritation showing at the edges of his eyes. “Shall do.”
Just then, the ranch appeared out of the dust just ahead of them. The pilot flicked a few controls on the holo display and slowed the craft, bringing it gently closer to the surface. He nodded at the building ahead of them. “That where you want to be?” he queried.
Mac nodded. “That’s the one,” he said. “Drop me down quarter of a mile out. I’ll approach on foot.”
The pilot shrugged, mildly suspicious as to his reason for wanting to be so far out. He complied, though, and within a few minutes, Mac was scrambling out of the craft. “Thank you!” he called back to the pilot.
His ride nodded politely, and as soon as Mac was clear of the vehicle, he lifted off again. A few meters in the air, he turned back in the direction of Spire, leaving a dust cloud behind him.
Mac shielded his face with his arm and held his breath as he turned away from the dust cloud. He was used to these kinds of conditions. If anything, it felt more normal and psychologically comfortable than the conditions of meetings and posh suits and nice surroundings in his HealthCorp life.
As soon as the dust settled enough for him to see the direction of the ranch, he started walking; his arm still shielding his face against the dust.
As he trudged across the sand, he remembered the last time he had been on the run. He wasn’t running again. He was going to stand his ground, the best place he knew how. He wasn’t going back to that life. He wasn’t giving up everything he’d worked so hard for. He wasn’t going to let all the sacrifices and things he’d done, that still haunt him, go to waste… just to end up back where he started.
This was where he was going to make his stand.
He arrived at the door and swiped at the access panel, bringing up the holo keypad. He tapped in the combination, and the door slid open while leaving up a forcefield against the sand and dust.
He stepped inside, and the sound of the wind and the desert evaporated into silence.
The house was empty. For now. He stamped off as much sand as he could, and shook himself down before walking through the hallway and checking the place. Everything was as it should be… Although, there was still work to do in setting up the weapons.
He wandered through into the front viewing room, which faced back in the direction of Spire. If anyone were coming, it would be from there. This was where he’d set up the anti-aircraft artillery. He might need some help getting it up out of storage, though.
He looked down at his holo. The others would be arriving shortly. He decided to make himself a drink, and rest while there was still time. There were still several hours of work to do once they got here. It would be easier as a group, though.
Senate Building, Spire
Erik sounded pissed. “Shut uuuup, Henry!” Erik hissed at Henry.
Finally, Garet thought. They must be here.
Having spent the last half hour waiting for their arrival, his palms were sweaty, and he simply couldn’t settle. In fact, he was almost relieved they were here; even if it did mean that they were going to potentially take him out.
There was still some kind of activity out in the corridor. Garet listened, still trying to pretend he was working away casually on his holo in case Molly walked in on him.
“Ooo.. OOOOoooo!” he heard Henry exclaimed excitedly. There was shuffling and movement outside the door. Garet could have sworn he heard the click of a weapon powering up.
Then he heard Molly’s voice. “We’ll be going in now,” she told the two Oggs.
He heard the doorknob turning, and watched it as the door started opening. He quickly averted his eyes to his holo screen, and shifted his weight back a bit more in his chair.
Yeah, super-casual, he told himself.
“Let them come!” he called out to Henrik, still not looking up but sensing the door was open now.
Molly stepped into the room, weapon raised. She locked eyes on him.
She was not amused.
Yep, I’m done for.
Chapter 6
Gaitune-67, Molly’s conference room
The team arrived back in the conference room straight from the pods.
Sean was the first to speak. “Well, that could have gone better.”
Molly was irritated more than anything. “Why would he do this?” she fretted, asking herself more than any one of the team members present.
Joel pulled out a chair for her, and indicated she should sit down. The rest of the team settled down, too. Joel instinctively knew that getting them seated was going to reduce their adrenalin circulation, and drop them back into being able to focus rationally with the upper part of their brains.
Just then, Maya walked in. “Hey. Oz filled me in,” she said, indicating her holo. She took a seat while the others started removing some of their combat gear.
Molly pulled the wooden stick out from the back of her vest and plunked it on the table. “Son of bitch,” she said under her breath. She exhaled, and then took another deep breath before looking up at the folks assembled.
“Okay. We’re onto plan B,” she announced. The others looked at each other before realizing that no one knew what plan B was.
Molly gathered her thoughts.
“Here’s what we know: The Syndicate knew we were coming, and scattered. We can suspect that Garet tipped them off. We can deal with him later… but I want to leave him in play. He could have disappeared with them too, but he didn’t. We don’t know what kind of game he’s playing, but we can always pick him up again later, now we’ve got a tracker on him. If his intel turns out to be good, then great. If not… we’ll cross that bridge.”
She paused and glanced at Jack and Sean, watching to see if Jack was at all squeamish about her approach. No reaction. She kept talking. “Regardless of what happens at that point, we now have some actionable intel. Oz is working on verifying it, first; but with this, we can come up with a four-pronged attack on each member.”
Molly stood up and started pacing, removing her arm protectors and other kit as she strode about.
“Needless to say,” she continued, “we have to rethink how we go about this. At this stage, I’m thinking just killing them is too much of a relief for them. I’m thinking they each need to be taught a special lesson in what it feels like to be in their own worst nightmare.”
Molly paused. Joel looked over at her. “What exactly do you have in mind?” he asked.
Molly started to smile a little. “Well, there’s some work to do on how we execute this plan, but I’m thinking we need to let them think they have escaped, and regain our element of surprise. In the meantime, we can prep and take our time, making sure we can strike at them all simultaneously. I think we have enough team members to do this now, and to do it elegantly.”
Sean’s ears pricked up, and his eyes came alive. “You’re making battle sound like art…”
Jack nodded in agreement. “Uh huh,” she said adding her support.
Molly grinned. “I think this requires a certain degree of craftsmanship.”
Joel pointed at Sean, now smiling a little. “I think you’ve created a monster!” he told him, shaking his finger.
Molly watched morale slowly return to the team. “I’d also like to see what Garet does. He’ll either be useful to us down the line, or he’ll be too untrustworthy. It’s time he picked a side.”
Joel nodded strongly in agreement.
Molly nodded once. “Okay, now here’s what I’m thinking, in terms of our plan…”
Iantrogen Offices, Downtown Spire
Jessica strode through the corridors of the quiet offices. At this time in the evening, everyone was heading home. Not Jessica. Having spent most of the day holed up in her fortress, waiting, she decided that she was remaining a prisoner no more. If Molly was coming for her, she would be just as safe at the office as she would at home. Probably even safer, given the public nature of the place.
Jessica almost flounced into her own office, following a team of four security personnel in front of her, with another two trailing behind her. They worked swiftly and professionally, checking the venue, and marking each zone safe, reporting into the rest of their borg-like team in other areas around the building. If Molly was going to get to her, it was going to be through them.
She popped her antigrav mocha cup from home on her assistant’s desk, along with her handbag, which was heavy with the weapons she had stowed away. She shifted her weight as she paused for the team leader to report back to her. He came back in from her office, gave her a professional emotionless nod, and then ushered the majority of the team outside.
One remained standing by the door, looking into the room; already settled as wall furniture, rather than an intrusion to her privacy.
Jessica stepped carefully into her office. The place seemed so quiet and unappealing now. She was still unable to settle. Normally, showing up at this doorway meant she would automatically flick into task mode - optimizing for productivity. And profit.
But today, her brain felt scattered. Distracted.
That would be the fear, Jessie, she told herself, almost hearing her grandmothers’ voice in her head. Her grandmother had been the one to teach her mastery of self.
Jessica dumped her bag on her desk and sat in the visitor’s chair. In the back of her mind, she didn’t feel capable of taking the “Jessica Newld, CEO” seat right now.
She opened her holo. “Call Andus,” she told it. The holo started dialing, and then cut out.
NUMBER DISCONNECTED.
Shit. Andus, I need you, she cursed. Desperate times… she thought to herself, as she dialed Mac Kerr.
The holo dialed again, and then again cut out.
Fuck.
Maybe she had been stupid, staying visible and coming to the office.
She sat in the silent office, the sound of the fluorescent light loud against the stillness. Her brain seemed to hum in symphony with it. Her shoulders prickled at knowing that her security guy was behind her, aware of her every move. She felt self-conscious.
But more than that, she felt scared.
Maybe I should call the police, she considered, turning the option in her mind. But my security is so much better equipped and trained. The police wouldn’t stand a chance against Ms. Bates.
She knew that now.
And they may end up siding with her. Better to keep them out of it until after the attack, when they can make statements that Bill can use to get a conviction.
She turned back to her holo, flicking through the annual reports and quarterly statements she had to read. Her mind wouldn’t let her go to the mundane.
She breathed, trying to gather herself. Then, making a decision, she flipped her holo closed. Gathering up her gear, she strode Jessica-Newld-style out of the office.
The security personnel were still loitering in the corridor, deciding how best to defend the corridor and windows (because they now knew that the Bates team had blown out the windows to get at the hostages). They snapped into action again as soon as Jessica stepped through the door. She looked in the direction of the team leader, and then started walking down the corridor.
“I’m working from the conference room. Send me someone who can fetch me some food. And get my assistant back in for the evening. And the legal team.” Her heels clipped decisively down the hall. “We have work to do.”
This was a trick she had learned from her father: distraction. Work as an antidote to fear. If she was going down, it would be amongst the soldiers who had helped her build this empire. And it would be while she was fighting from every angle she had left.
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Molly’s conference room
JOEL, YOUR IMPLANTS HAVE ARRIVED. WOULD YOU LIKE TO HAVE BROCK INSTALL THEM FOR YOU?
Joel did a double take when he saw the message from Oz flick up on his holo.
WTF? he typed back.
Then he remembered. The implants. For the “enhancements” Oz was going to hook him up with. Of course!
Shit.
He looked around. There wasn’t anywhere he could talk to Oz easily. He was working away in Molly’s conference room, and, though he was the only one here, he didn’t want their conversation to be overheard by anyone passing by outside. He needed to get to a pod. Without being seen.
He flicked through his mind, remembering where everyone was. Sean had gone for a workout - which meant he might be downstairs in the base gym. Molly was doing something similar. Maya was in Molly’s lab…
Heck, I’m just going to have to risk it.
He packed up his screens and typed Oz a quick message that he would meet him in a pod. With that, he left the conference room and headed down to the basement.
He rounded the last flight of stairs, and heard Brock’s music blaring in the workshop. Good - that means Brock would be around. I still need to broach the subject with him.
As he entered the workshop, he could hear Brock singing and busting a move as he worked on a holoprogram, tinkering with some kind of mechanical device next to him.
Brock turned to see who had just come down stairs. “Yo! My man, how’s it hanging, Joel?” he called over to him.
Joel put his hand up in a wave, and wandered towards him. “You got a minute?” he asked, his face serious.
Brock waved at the music, and the sound level dropped by 50%. “Sure. Everything okay?” he asked, his dancing now subsiding to a gentle swaying, as if the music just couldn’t leave his system.
Joel nodded, but still looked serious. He glanced around the workshop. “Are we alone?” he asked.
Brock’s swaying stopped, and he looked around, too. “Erm, yeah.” He waved the music off completely. “What’s up?”
Joel stepped in to talking distance. “I could use your help on a special project. It’s on the down-low, though. You okay with that?”
Brock looked suspicious. “Errrr, I guess so. It’s not something that’s going to get me into trouble with the Moll-ster, though, is it?”
Joel shook his head. “No. No way. More… Hang on. Better I explain this properly. You okay to come and sit in a pod with me?”
Brock’s eyes narrowed. “Now, if you just wanna ask me out, you just need to come out and say it Mr. Joel!” His voice was jovial but his face was deadly serious.
Joel couldn’t help but chuckle. “And on the day I decide to ask you out for a romantic interlude, I will indeed remember that. In the meantime, you want to get your mechanic ass down to the pods so I can run this by you?”
Brock’s eyes widened, now amused, and still play-acting. “Well, well. It’s only ever my engineering skills that need using mercilessly, I see.” He placed down the laser screwdriver he had been using, and shut down his desk holo before marching off towards the Demon Door.
The pair made their way down into the base, and selected a pod a couple of rows into the batch, so as best to be hidden from anyone passing by.
Joel stepped in after Brock and sat down next to him, swiping at the door control to close the pod up. Brock glanced at him, his eyes all pretend-serious. “You sure you aren’t making a move on my sweet ass?” he asked.
Joel blushed and looked down, completely embarrassed. “No. No. I’m really not. I promise,” he told his friend. “It is something rather sensitive, though. Oz, are you there?” Joel prompted.
Oz’s audio channel in the pod clicked open with a tiny amount of static before settling. “Yes, I’m here. Hello, Brock.”
Brock looked down at the ground and leaned back against the wall of the pod, sideways on. “Hi, Oz.” He paused and looked at the console, and then at Joel. “So… what am I doing here? With you both?”
Joel looked down at his hands. “You wanna explain this one, Oz?”
“Sure.” Oz replied through the intercom. “It seems that young Joel is wanting to increase his abilities… specifically his reflexes, a la cyborg.”
Brock’s mouth dropped open. “You mean you want in on some of the Sean Royale action?!” he exclaimed, his voice louder, now almost singing. His open mouth turned into an enormous grin. “You want to hold your own against the super soldier! That’s why the secrecy and blushes!”
Joel’s blush deepened. Brock slapped his own leg and stomped his feet in the pod. Even Oz seemed to be chuckling through the pod… the vibrations running through the seat they occupied.
Joel tried to hush Brock. “Come on, man. You’re going to get us rumbled!”
Brock lifted his head a little, and Joel could see actual tears rolling down his cheeks. Brock pulled a colorful handkerchief from his overalls pocket and dabbed his face, careful not to smudge his eyeliner. “Maaaaaaan. You got balls. You’re going to get Oz to implant you with all kinds of shit, just so you can run faster and beat Sean?”
Joel seemed to recover himself and his dignity, as a small frown started to show on his eyebrows. “Oz. You can back me up any time…” he grunted in the direction of the heads-up display.
Then he turned back to Brock. “Not run faster. I’d need more muscle for that. And it’s not just about competing with Sean. This is about upping my game. We’re going to need every edge we can get going into this Etheric Empire battle, and who knows what lies ahead? I just want to make sure that I can be as ready as possible.”
He paused, his eyes drifting off into the distance a little as he spoke next. “Besides, all it takes in a fight is being a split second too slow, and you can lose your life. Or worse. A teammate.” He shook his head. “Not on my watch.”
He looked back at Brock who had sobered up a little. “So, if it means letting you stick chips and widgets in my brain to make me a better soldier, a better protector, and a better teammate… then, so be it.”
Brock had been gently nodding, empathetically, when suddenly he stopped nodding, and his pupils dilated.
“Yo, you what what?!” he asked, suddenly realizing that he was going to be implanting the chips in Joel’s brain.
Joel rolled his lips inward, letting his cheeks go pudgy. “Yeah. That bit. That’s what I need you for.” He indicated back at the heads-up display. “Oz can’t insert the devices, and since you’re the only one with a steady hand and knack for the mechanical, we - and by ‘we,’ I mean Oz - figured that you’d be able to use your skills, even though half of your… project… is organic material.”
Brock breathed out heavily, his eyes wide. He seemed to lean forward a little as he exhaled.
He looked up at Joel.
“Dude. You know the sight of blood makes me faint?”
Gaitune-67, safe house, Molly’s conference room
Okay, Oz, we need to find a way to take each of these goons down.
Molly settled down in her usual seat, back to the door, mocha in hand.
Let’s start with Jessica. She took a long swig of mocha, clearing her mind.
We need to understand exactly how her companies are structured, and how that relates to the legislation The Syndicate has been pushing for. Once we know that, we can come up with a plan of attack.
Oz started pulling up searches on the conference room holo screens, showing the frameworks of the companies he was able to locate.
Remember, we don’t want to just take her out of the game; we want to do it in a way where it cannot be built up again over time. Like, never again… so we need this to tie-in with the law-making piece, and the company laws.
Oz’s moving images and holoscreens suddenly stopped.
Got it? Molly asked.
Got it.
Data and intel started flowing across the screens as he referenced a new holo with company law details and legislation changes in the last three decades, as it pertained to Jessica’s business model.
* * *
Hours later, Molly was still trawling through the various pieces of research that Oz had managed to locate.
Oz, are you seeing any other patterns here?
Yes, I’ve spotted two more.
Another screen appeared off to Molly’s right, and she pushed a couple of her screens out of the way, and pulled the new one closer.
This looks like the subsidiaries are linked in some way to the share price of the main company…
Exactly. When she buys new ones, the share price goes up. On the rare occasion she has sold one, the share price has dropped off.
Molly leaned on the desk, rubbing her chin.
So what if we prompted all of those 180 subsidiaries to be sold?
It would likely crash the value of the company.
Find me the last five years’ worth of company accounts. If this company is overvalued, that kind of drop in share capital would prompt a sale.
Oz flicked up another screen.
Okay, what was the second pattern?
Another screen appeared behind the current one.
Seems the board votes to sell whenever a subsidiary fulfills a certain set of criteria. I’ve managed to reverse engineer what those parameters are.
How easy would it be to replicate those across all 180 companies?
Oz paused. Molly could feel herself being pushed out of areas of her brain as her mind went numb. It lasted just a few seconds, and then Oz returned an answer on her screen.
I could do it, mostly ethically, probably in about 24 hours. The board is the human element, though. History dictates they would call an emergency meeting and perhaps debate selling off all of them. They may resist, and just ride it out.
Molly frowned.
What would happen to each company, based on their parameters, if they ended up not selling?
They would incur massive fines for breaches in legislation; not to mention that, individually, they don’t have the legal power to untangle the messes they have wrapped up in the process. Their parameters are very specific, based on a number of factors and risks they’re taking just operating day-to-day.
Molly rubbed her eyes. I think there is probably enough pressure there to get the board to ditch the subsidiaries. They probably have the hubris to expect that the main company can survive the crash.
She paused, considering the impact on the wider market.
Oz, can you run a model of what will likely happen to the rest of the market if this goes ahead?
Oz ran a simulation for the health sector and all the other sectors. Molly watched as it played out, noticing that, for the most part, only the health sector was affected.
Oz, get this intel over to Paige, Maya, and Pieter, and ask them to come up here for a quick meeting in half an hour. I’ve just had another idea.
She slurped at her stone-cold mocha, before realizing it was just the dregs. Molly screwed up her face and popped the mug down again, pushing it aside.
And then grab me the same data for Andus’s companies, please. Given how he’s her guru, I think we’ll find similar weaknesses there, too.
Gaitune-67, Base conference room
Molly walked into the empty conference room; the one they normally referred to as “the General’s” conference room.
She had a meeting with the big guy himself. She was surprised he had made time, but suspected after what she had messaged ADAM between her researching and briefings, that they saw an opportunity to affect real change.
Or they were about to tell her that she was crackpot crazy.
Either way, this was going to be a turning point. She sat down in the middle of the long side of the conference table nearest the door, and waited. Her heart was beating heavier than usual, and she could feel her palms sweating. She wished she’d gone to the restroom again before she came in here. She could wait. She knew it was only nerves.
As it happened, she didn’t have long to wait; a hologram opened out from the center of the table within moments. It unfolded, and revealed the General sitting at his desk in his private office on the ArchAngel.
“Molly Bates,” he greeted her. “Sounds like you’ve been thinking outside the box again…” he began.
The meeting went on for some time. So long, in fact, that Sean, Joel, Paige, and even Crash had all come looking for her. Upon seeing that she was in with the General, each had turned on their heels, and gone back to what they were doing.
Molly didn’t emerge again until the evening meal, where she disclosed nothing about her meeting with the General, saying it was all ‘need-to-know’.
Chapter 7
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Molly’s conference room
Pieter strode into the conference room, holo out, reading as he walked. Closely following behind him were Maya and Paige.
Molly spun around as they filed in and took seats. “Hi,” she told them, her mind still in the data she’d been sifting through.
Paige smiled at her sympathetically. “Have you actually eaten real food today?” she asked, looking at the mocha mug and the empty bottles of water.
Molly looked up, trying to recall the extraneous data.
Oz answered for her through the conference room holo. “She’s used the mocha machine three times, but I haven’t registered any food consumption.”
Paige put her hands on her hips and after a short pause she strode silently out of the room.
Molly, bewildered, watched her leave. Not understanding what was going on, she did the thing she knew how to do best: she turned her attention back to the task at hand.
Molly looked at Maya and Pieter. “Looks like we have pinpointed the weaknesses in the infrastructure of both Jessica’s and Andus’s operations,” she began.
She started explaining how the cards would topple if they were able to trigger the sales of the subsidiaries, causing the ultimate collapse of the whole regime.
Maya raised her hand, a slight frown across her forehead. “And what about triggering those sales? What does that entail?”
Molly nodded. “Well, Oz can handle most of that, but there are some… manipulations… that would need to happen that aren’t exactly white hat.”
She glanced over at Pieter. “This means that Oz can’t do those specific takedowns; but…” she smiled a little, “I suspect knowing what the bigger picture is, you won’t have an ethical issue in doctoring some reports and such like?” Molly watched Pieter to see if he was comfortable.
Pieter waved his hand. “Yeah, no problem. These fucktards have exploited the poor and the sick for too long. They have it coming. Whatever it takes,” he told her.
Molly bobbed her head rhythmically. “Great.” She seemed to brighten a little. “Okay, in the meantime, there are a few other things that need handling.”
Paige returned to the room, gently closing the door behind her. She plunked a green smoothie on the desk next to Molly and nodded at it. “Drink,” she instructed before heading around the table.
Molly thanked her and continued. Paige took a seat at the end of the conference table so she could see everyone who was already sitting down the sides.
Molly took a sip of the smoothie before returning to the briefing. She was still looking at Paige. “Oz and Pieter have an action plan to dismantle Jessica’s and Andus’s companies. What we then need to ensure is that there is no way to rebuild them. We need the legislation that has weighted everything in their favor gone.”
Paige nodded in agreement.
Molly continued. “Are you happy to liaise with Garet, and see what he can do to make that so?” she asked.
Paige nodded, taking notes. “Sure,” she confirmed.
Molly filled the others in on the details of the Garet situation. When she had finished, Paige wrinkled her nose. “Do you think that he’s going to play ball? Or just sabotage everything we ever try to do?” she asked.
Molly took a breath and bobbed her head to one side briefly. “This will certainly be the test. If he comes through, then we know he might have a chance of being on our side. If not, we remove him.” She smiled a slightly evil smile. “Don’t worry, I’m sending Joel with you. He might need to have a serious chat with him before you start working on the ins and outs.”
Paige stopped typing on her holo and looked up, her eyes slightly wider than usual. She took a second to understand Molly’s meaning, and then smiled, too. “I’m going to enjoy this assignment,” she added quietly.
Molly looked over at Maya. “Alright. So, taking out this company is going to have a short-term impact on the sector. We need the government ready to support it. Lower-tiered staff will be the first affected. We want to put them into government jobs ASAP.”
Maya had already started taking notes again.
“You’re the one to make this piece happen, Maya. Use your contacts in the city to get a government plan into place. The funding will become available; don’t worry about that for now. Get agreements in principle, and find people to support it. We want governance in place to take over the infrastructure of primary health.”
Molly took another sip of her green drink, and then looked over at the other two. “We can leave the higher levels of the bullshit – insurance and second order tools — to disappear in the collapse. Our goal here is to bring the cost of providing the treatments back to an actual cost, rather than an inflated, artificial rate. According to Oz’s models, it will be able to sustain itself as a sector without these secondary parasites.”
She took another sip, realizing how hungry she had become while she’d been immersed in formulating this plan. “Okay,” she said, wrapping up. “We need these things in motion so that it becomes obvious that the collapse is going to happen. Some of what needs to happen in the Senate is going to take time, but if we can at least get it moving in that direction, then there are obvious solutions in place when we take out the companies. The existing senators and administrators should be able to figure it out from there.”
She looked around. “Any questions?”
The assembled team shook their heads, having already started checking details on their holos.
“Okay,” Molly finished. “Let me know if you need clarification on anything. Plus, Oz is fully versed on what needs to happen.”
Pieter got up and started ambling out, grunting “later” to the group.
Paige glanced over at Maya. “Time to call my ex, I guess…”
Maya grinned. “Moral support?” she offered.
Paige shook her head. “Nah. I’m alright.”
Molly looked up as Paige headed out. “Thanks for the shake,” she said.
Paige grinned. “Of course. You gotta eat. Or ‘nutrient,’” she said, pulling a face at her new word for consuming nutrients. “It doesn’t verb-out the same way as most words…” she observed idly as she headed towards the door.
Molly grinned. “Hey,” she said suddenly remembering, “you know you can get a real-time line with the surface.”
Paige turned back. “Huh?”
Molly slurped and turned around a little in her chair. “Yeah, in the ops room. Ask Oz to help you connect, and you can talk with Garet real-time.”
Paige’s mouth dropped. “Oh, great. That will speed things up.” She paused. “How does that work?”
Molly shook her head, her lips still around the straw. She swallowed.
“No idea.”
She paused. “Yet,” she added.
Gaitune-67, Safe house workshop
Brock created a makeshift operating room in a supplies cupboard, out of view of the main workshop. Now, with Joel laid back in the operating chair, and the half-light from some lamps he’d managed to cobble together, Brock was almost ready to start the procedure.
“Oz, you’re sure about this?” he asked, speaking into a microphone he’d rigged up from the game console just outside the cupboard.
“100%,” Oz told him. “The sedatives should be kicking in now.”
Joel had relaxed back in the chair, and opened one eye. “In the old days, it was the patients that received the sedatives,” he commented dryly.
Brock shook his head and stamped his foot playfully. “Man, if you want me to faint on your ass, then fine. But if Oz reckons this cocktail of vomit suppressants, sedatives, and half a mocha can get me through this, then it’s our best option.”
Joel closed his eyes again, his lips turning up a little at the corners.
Brock turned around, and when he turned back, he had something that looked like a puncture gun. “Okay, they didn’t send an insertion gun with the chips, so I’ve had to improvise.” He waved the gun around in front of Joel’s line of sight. “This one goes in the base of the brainstem,” he said, signaling for Joel to roll over. “So I need you on your front.”
Joel opened his eyes and sat up, then, carefully balancing on the reclined chair, he turned himself over onto his front. Settling down, he put his forehead against the headrest and tried to get comfortable.
“It’s okay,” Brock told him, “this one won’t take a second.” Joel felt Brock’s fingers on the back of his head, and then tracing the skull down to the spine. He pressed a little harder, and then felt around some more, finding the edge of the base of the skull. He gently adjusted Joel’s head from the chin and tried again.
A moment later, Joel felt the metal of the puncture gun pressed up against his skull. Brock breathed out a little. “Hope I’ve got the pressure right on this one.”
Joel’s eyes flew open in fear at Brock’s last statement, but it was too late to do anything about it. A split-second later, there was a thud in the back of his head, and a sharp pain around the sides of his lower skull.
“Motherfucker!” Joel hissed, very conscious they didn’t want their little experiment to be discovered.
“Boosh!” he heard Brock announce as he stepped back and did some of his wiggly dancing. “One doooown!” he said, celebrating.
Joel scrambled around to lie on his back rubbing the back of his head and jawline. “How do we know you got it right?” he asked, frowning through the discomfort.
Brock looked cocky for a moment. “You know who you is talking to?” he smiled.
Oz interrupted. “If you’ll allow me to download a patch onto your holo, I can go ahead and check the connectivity of the device.”
Joel looked down at his holo and saw that Oz was requesting permission. He clicked “OK”. “You need to ask for permission?” he queried.
Oz had started the download onto his holo. “Of course. It’s not only the polite thing to do, but ethics are now hardwired into my core programming.”
Brock sniggered. “That’s what Molly meant about you being a little broken when it comes to ethics!”
Oz’s audio feed buzzed a little and then returned to normal. “Yes; consider the source for the definition of ‘broken,’ though.”
Even Joel couldn’t help but chuckle at that comment.
Brock grinned. “Yeah. I think we had kind of got that…” He paused. “It’s okay, Oz. We love you just as you are… pole up your ass or no.”
“Thanks, Brock,” replied Oz, his tone a little more relaxed. “I appreciate that.”
Joel clapped his hands quietly. “Okay, people. Let’s get this other chip in.”
Brock turned around and fiddled with some things he’d laid out on a tray in preparation. Turning back his face was pale. “Okay. Here goes,” he told Joel. “I’m going to make an incision here,” he traced a path on Joel’s temple, “and then pull back the skin to be able to get at the bone.”
Joel nodded ever so slightly, and grunted.
Brock kept talking. “And then, I’m going to slip this chip underneath the bone, and run current through it. The current will cause it to bury itself into the cortex at the correct depth.” He paused. “I hope,” he added with a slight flinch.
Joel looked alarmed, his eyes fixing on Brock from his laid-back, compromised position. “What do mean, you ‘hope’?”
Brock shrugged. “Just that they didn’t send any apparatus with this, and I’m not sure the exact current that this baby will put out,” he pointed at a wand connected to a battery pack on his tray.
Joel gritted his teeth before relaxing his jaw, still awkwardly trying to look at Brock. “Dude, you realize this is my brain we’re talking about?”
Brock nodded solemnly. “Yeah, that’s why I hope it works.” He smiled a little.
Joel couldn’t be sure if he was fucking with him or not. He decided it was better for his state of mind to assume he probably was, and laid his head back again, closing his eyes. “Okay, do your thing, disco boy!” he said, motioning at his own head and pretending to be the picture of serenity.
Brock traced the temple again, and then carefully made his incision. Joel felt the dullness of the cut through his local anesthetic, and then was aware of Brock taking a step away. Joel looked over to see what was happening.
Brock had seen the blood and had gone even paler than he was before. His lips, in fact, had turned blue. He turned his face away and started gagging.
Oz spoke up. “It’s okay. By my calculations, the sedative is working adequately, and the dosage of the GI reflex drug was high enough to stop him vomiting for a few days. Brock, I suggest you breathe, think of ponies and cotton candy, and then return to the task at hand.”
Brock had a scalpel in one hand, and his other hand tight as a fist at his mouth. “Motherfucker. No wonder my body prefers to pass out!”
Joel laid back and waited.
A few moments and disco moves later, Brock was back with him, and inserting the chip. Joel kept breathing through his mouth and nose, staying focused on just getting through the procedure.
Eventually, Brock pulled off his sterile gloves, and sighed deeply. “Okay, super soldier. You’re good to go.”
Joel started to get up. “What? That’s it? All done?”
Brock nodded. “Yup.”
Oz chirped in. “Joel, I would take it easy for the rest of the day. I’ve got both devices online, but they’ll need some… modifications… for our purposes. I’ll try not to interfere with normal functioning, but if you do need to do anything outside of walking around and breathing, do let me know.”
Joel thought about asking if he needed permission to use the restroom, and then thought better of it.
Brock had been tidying the tray, still looking pale. He turned around just as Joel was about to touch his head. “Ah ah ah…” he said, tapping his hand away from his temple. “That skin glue won’t hold against you messing with it. So no touching. And no wearing helmets or anything. And careful you don’t catch it for a few days when you’re changing or showering.”
Joel nodded. “Okay. Right you are.” He slid cautiously off the chair. “Thank you, Brock. I appreciate you going through this for me.”
Brock was somber and subdued now. He nodded. “Sure. Sure thing, man.” It seemed his reaction times were slowing.
Joel noticed. “Hey, how about we get you back to your quarters for a nap? Looks like that mocha isn’t counteracting those sedatives so well now.”
Brock nodded, his eyes looking slightly puffy.
Leaving the gear mostly as it was, Joel helped his surgeon out of the cupboard and back up into the safe house sleeping quarters. The evidence could be tidied away when he had deposited Brock safely.
Chapter 8
Gaitune-67, Hangar deck
Molly had emerged from her meeting the previous evening deep in thought. This morning, the team was to continue with their assignments while Joel, Paige and Molly gathered intel from the surface.
The three of them stood in a tight circle on the hangar deck by the pods. Molly was focused. “Paige, how have your conversations been going with Garet?”
Paige screwed up half of her face. “Okay. I guess. I get a feeling he’s not giving me as much help as he could.”
Molly nodded and glanced at Joel. “I think it’s time we pay him a visit.”
Joel agreed. “Sounds like a plan. So what’s the move? If he cooperates, leave him in play?”
Molly started ushering them towards the pods. “Yes. And if not, we need to remove him from his position and find someone to take his place. Oz is working on distilling down possible allies for that scenario. If it comes to that, you two will need to spend a little time down there interviewing candidates.”
Paige glanced at Joel. “Goody. Face-reading practice!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands lightly, before scrambling into a pod after Joel.
Molly smiled. “Indeed!” she agreed, waving the access panel on the next pod and hopping in.
Okay, Oz. Let’s get us to the Senate House. We’ve got an issue to force. Oh, and make sure we’re not going to be caught with any facial recognition software, yeah?
Already handled, straight after the op.
Atta boy!
I live to serve.
Molly detected a hint of irony coupled with the jest, but it was a valid point that she meant to take up with him at a later date.
Moments later, the pods lifted up, and carried the three of them out into space before whisking them to the Senate House for the second time that week.
Senate House, Spire
“How about we try the front door this time, folks?” Molly called out over the intercom between the pods.
Joel chuckled. “That’s getting to be more and more of a novelty on these missions,” he responded.
Paige grinned up at him. “You’ll have to tell me what exactly happened last time. I only got the Oz-version… which is nowhere near as fun as, say, a Brock-account.”
Oz’s audio buzzed as if he was going to speak, but then it clicked off again.
Joel noticed, and nodded at the heads-up display. “I suspect Oz agrees,” he chuckled lightly. “Yeah, so, Brock wasn’t there, of course, so your choices are myself, Jack or Sean.”
Paige smiled. “Sean tells a good story; can’t say I can comment on Jack, yet. I think she’s just feeling us out right now.”
Joel smiled at Paige’s increased observational skills. “I think you’re probably right,” he agreed.
The pods descended just around the corner from the Senate House.
Molly closed the communications between the pods with a swipe of the head up holo display. “Hey, Oz? How come we’re not drawing fire from the city radar and defense system?”
Her seat vibrated strangely.
Oz seemed to be laughing.
“Oz…?” she pressed in a warning tone. “What did you do?”
The vibration intensified a little before Oz responded. “Well, I noticed when I was interfering with their systems last time that if there are too many data points over a given area, they put it down to either a meteor shower or precipitation in the air, and it effectively filters the signal out, assuming it is ‘noise’.”
Molly’s mouth turned up at the corners, despite her focus on the op. “Are you telling me the almighty, ethical Oz has faked their radar computer into thinking that we are simply noise?” she asked, undoing her harness.
“That would be an accurate assessment,” he told her.
Molly frowned as she shuffled forward in her seat, grabbing the handhold. “But what about your unbreakable ethics protocol?”
Oz’s voice was upbeat. “I don’t see a problem with it. Do you?”
Molly thought for a moment. “You’re tricking their system.”
Oz paused for a moment. “Yes, but I’m not doing them any harm, or endangering anyone. In fact, to allow us to show up on their radar would only pull their attention from actual problems, and potentially lead to accidents and errors.”
Molly wasn’t buying it. Not completely. “I think you have more wiggle room in your locked down algorithms than you let on!” she teased wryly.
The pods had reached the ground, and Oz allowed the doors to slide open. “In some ways, I really am just helping them reduce unnecessary noise from their data,” he added.
Molly shook her head, silently smiling now. “Ever the good citizen, Oz,” she told him. Had he been able to see her, she may even have winked at him as she hopped out of the pod and started walking up the white marble steps into the Senate House.
Joel and Paige strode after her, having to take two steps at a time to catch up. Meanwhile, the pods lifted rapidly up into the air, pulling the attention from a few passersby, who then continued on with their business.
Once inside the building, Molly led the way up to the reception desk. “Molly Bates and associates to see Senator Garet Beaufort,” she told the well-manicured Estarian on check-in.
The female looked up at Molly. “Of course. And do you have an appointment?” she asked politely.
Molly got the sense that it was usual for people to not have. She shook her head. “No. We work very closely with him, though. Please let him know we’re here. He’s going to want to talk with us.”
The Estarian looked down at her desk holo, tapped some keys, and then connected a call. “Hello, Trish. This is Ester on the front desk. I have a Ms. Bates and associates here to see the senator.” She paused, listening.
“Yes, she says that he’d be open to seeing her. Sure. I’ll hold.” Ester looked up at Molly and smiled tightly. Only then did Ester realize that the younger, blue human standing at Ms. Bates’s left elbow had been watching her intently. Quickly, Ester dropped her gaze back to her holo, now feeling even more uncomfortable than usual as the first face of the company.
There was also a man with the two women; she noticed him out of the corner of her eye. He stayed a distance back. He look like military, and was looking around the whole foyer and security area.
Probably assessing weaknesses…
As the thought occurred to her, Ester noticed her heart beating a little harder. She hadn’t been on-shift when the attack had happened the other day, but it had shaken everyone up.
How much she wished that Trish would hurry up. She poked at her holoscreen to see the messages that had come in for her station. There were a few things to handle; she’d get onto those shortly. Another awkward moment later, Trish came back on the line.
“Ah ha. Yes. Yes, okay; if the senator is sure that’s okay. Thanks, Trish.” Ester hung up the call and looked back at Molly.
“I just need to sign you in, and then the Senator believes you know where his office is. Are you happy to do so without an escort?” she asked.
Molly nodded, secretly amused at the irony of the situation. Ester continued the sign-in process for all three of them, and then pointed them through security.
Once through security, Molly led the way up to Garet’s office. Paige noticed Joel was still on full alert. She could tell by the way that, even though he walked casually, his eyes were more active than usual. Had she not been looking for it since she started her face-reading training with him, she would never have noticed.
Joel caught her paying attention, and smiled as he motioned for her to step into the office of Garet’s assistant.
Molly introduced them all. “We’re here to see the senator,” she told Trish. Trish nodded and got up from her desk, letting them in through the big double doors of Garet’s office.
Molly stepped inside first, followed by Joel and Paige.
Garet was working on his holo, and looked up when he heard the door. He stood up. “Molly, Joel…” he said smiling. Then he saw Paige step out from behind the two. “Paige! Greetings.”
Paige waved politely. Joel noticed her cheeks flush a little, but she stood firm and professional.
Garet invited them to sit, and Joel and Molly took the chairs nearest his desk. Paige sat over on one of the sofas.
Garet sat back down at his desk, steepling his hands. Joel immediately got up and signaled for them to all sit at the two sofas. “This isn’t going to work,” he told Garet. “You, sitting behind your desk like you’re an official who hasn’t done anything wrong. This next conversation is going to determine a lot for you, and I don’t want you under the misapprehension that you’re safe and secure behind that desk.”
Garet looked flummoxed and went a little pale. He had imagined he’d be able to give them the normal spiel about his intentions to safeguard the Estarian people, and then they’d go away, leaving him to get on with his life.
Of course, there was the small matter of The Syndicate.
Joel arranged the reshuffle, and Molly sat down next to Paige, opposite Garet. “Here’s the thing, Garet,” she started. “We left you here because we thought you were going to do some good. Since then, you’ve done nothing but play both sides.”
Garet opened his mouth to protest. Molly raised her hand to silence him. “We’re here to offer you a choice. There is no gray market anymore. The Syndicate will be taken out, and everyone who supports them will be gone along with them. There is no more ‘us and them’. You aren’t able to sit on the fence and feed tidbits to both sides; you’re done.”
Joel sat down on the sofa next to Garet. Paige noticed a slight twitch in the corner of Garet’s right eye; Joel’s presence was intimidating, and Paige suspected that he deliberately sat a little closer than he would normally.
Joel backed up what Molly was saying. “You need to choose, Garet. No more fence.”
The meeting went on for a little while longer.
Eventually, Molly stood up. “Okay. That’s settled,” she said, satisfied. She looked at Paige and Joel in turn. “I’ll leave you two to carry on. In the meantime, I have someone to see.”
Joel nodded, though Paige could tell from the slight widening of his eyes that he wasn’t expecting for Molly to just take off. He stood up and followed her to the door.
She got as far as putting her hand on the doorknob, when Joel caught her. He put a hand on her upper arm. “You sure you don’t need back up?” he asked, trying not to give anything away in front of Garet.
Molly smiled. “I’ll be fine,” she told him.
Joel squeezed her arm a little before letting go and taking a small step back. “Be sure that you are,” he said firmly. His eyes were softer than normal.
Molly nodded and pulled on the door, hauling its weight open. Joel grabbed the top of the door over her head to help her, and she ducked under his arm and out of the office. He closed the door gently behind her, pausing for a moment.
When he turned back to the room, he was back in ops mode. “Okay, folks. Looks like we’ve got work to do.” He gently clapped his big-ass hands, signaling the ‘let’s get to it’ energy he used with the team in training.
Paige knew he meant business.
Chapter 9
Police Precinct, Downtown Spire
Molly stood by the mocha stand, watching the main entrance to the downtown Police Precinct.
Come on, Oz. I thought she’d already logged off?
She had. She’s now hanging around near the lobby, but I can’t tell why.
Have you got visuals?
Yes. Tracking her with facial rec.
Show me.
Molly opened her holo, and a feed appeared on it. It was of the lobby area. It showed people coming and going around an elevator and a corridor entrance. Chaakwa appeared onscreen, and seemed to be walking towards the main lobby area.
Looks like she’s on the move… And she’s coming out.
Molly looked up again at the doors, and watched for the Estarian detective woman to emerge. Sure enough, a moment later, she appeared.
What are you going to do? Just walk up to her? ‘Excuse me, Detective. I was wondering if you’d like to be a part of a non-governmental conspiracy to take down a, well, conspiracy that is killing and exploiting thousands of Estarians each week?’
Yeah, actually, that sounds quite good, Oz.
Chaakwa turned left and headed down the street. Molly had walked up that way while she had been waiting, and guessed she was probably going to get some food.
Or she was meeting someone, perhaps.
In the case of the latter, it would be worth finding out who. Checking her distance, Molly was careful to appear casual, but not lose sight of her mark.
Not half a block later, Chaakwa turned into a mocha shop. Molly followed quickly and saw her get in line. She was looking at the pastries, not trying to find someone.
Probably safe to say she’s just grabbing food.
Molly watched her order mocha and food, and then did the same. As they were waiting for their mochas in the line at the end of the counter, Molly caught her eye.
Chaakwa wore a look of recognition, and almost said hello. It took another couple of tries before Molly was able to break the ice.
“Greetings. You may not remember me, but I worked with Joel Dunham….”
Chaakwa smiled and held out her hand to shake Molly’s, still racking her brain, trying to place her. Then she did. “Bates?” she clarified.
Molly nodded. “Yes. I was probably your suspect a couple of times,” she paused, blushing a little. “But we’ve come to think of you as something like a sympathetic force in our little team.”
Chaakwa looked intrigued. “Really?” she asked, trying not to smile, but her eyes giving her away. Her mouth crumpled up in a kind of confused wiggly line. Chaakwa’s drink arrived and she picked it up, her food in the other hand. “I was going to sit and eat. Would you care to join me?” She signaled towards an empty table by the window.
Molly nodded, smiling. “I’d like that,” she told her. The two women waited, making small talk until Molly’s mocha arrived, and then they sat down together.
“So, I take it your visiting me isn’t to pass the time over a mocha,” Chaakwa started.
Molly looked down into her dark mocha, and shook her head. “No. Not at all. I’m aware of the work you did on the Dewitt case, and from our meeting when we brought Garet back, I got the impression that bringing down The Syndicate was verging on personal for you…”
Chaakwa stopped eating, and put her food down. Her public persona evaporated, and for a moment Molly could see her as a little girl.
Chaakwa nodded. “They killed my grandfather, and then they killed my father for investigating them.”
Molly tilted her head. “I’m… I’m so sorry.” She paused, trying to decide whether it was something that Chaakwa would want to talk about. She frowned, confused by the choice. She wanted to know, but she didn’t want to pry. Then she remembered something Joel had taught her. “Hey, look, it’s none of my business, and if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s cool… But, what happened?”
That was almost word-for-word how Joel coached you!
Shut up, Oz. I’m trying to focus.
I’m going to start calling Joel ‘Cyrano de Bergerac’.
What the fuck does that even mean?
I’ll fill you in later. Go back to your conversation.
Molly’s brain itched as Oz chuckled away to himself. She had to resist scratching at her head. It wasn’t appropriate. The woman in front of her was about to open up about her driving wound…
Chaakwa had a tear forming in her eye, but she breathed in quickly and started telling her story. “My grandfather had insurance. Expensive insurance through Iantrogen, the Newld company.” She paused, getting her thoughts in order. “The family had made a lot of sacrifices to make sure he was going to be covered; to make sure we’d all be covered. My brother and I worked, instead of continuing in higher education. Father had said an education is no good if you’re dead. So we worked. And we worked hard.” She took a sip of her mocha.
Molly glanced out of the window briefly, and then back at Chaakwa. She didn’t want her to feel the weight of her staring. Joel had told her she could be a bit “intense” sometimes in these kinds of conversations. She thought about sitting back a little, but it might come across as disinterest. Maybe in a little while… she told herself.
Chaakwa continued. “Everything was fine. Grandfather had a condition that the company knew about, but we’d chosen a plan that covered it, and he was getting the treatment he needed. Then, one day, out of the blue, we got a message saying that his condition was being re-categorized, and that it was no longer covered. If we wanted him to receive the treatment, it was going to cost three times the amount.”
Molly’s mouth dropped open.
Chaakwa looked up and nodded. “Yeah. That was our reaction.” She glanced out of the window, her eyes now distant. “Obviously, we couldn’t afford it, so nature ‘took its course,’ as the doctors called it. But around the same time, there were rumors of corruption in the company. My father was a captain at the time, and he was overseeing a task force who was investigating allegations of corporate manslaughter. Of course, as you probably know, the legislation on this has been deteriorating over time. Even back then, it was pretty bad, though. My father was pulling a good case together. I have looked over his personal notes since, and it seemed like he had found a legal recourse, and that he was building a case along these lines in collaboration with a city prosecutor. He would have made things very difficult for The Syndicate to continue the way they were doing.”
Molly bobbed her head sympathetically. “So that’s why they killed him.”
Chaakwa nodded. “Made it look like a car accident.”
Molly shook her head in dismay. “How old were you?” she asked gently.
Chaakwa looked back at her. “Twelve. Made me decide that I wanted to be a cop, to avenge my father’s death and do some good in this place.”
Molly put her hand flat on the table, as if reaching to touch Chaakwa, but stopping short. “It looks to me like you are making a difference,” she told her. “And I’d like to help you with that. If you’ll allow me?”
Chaakwa was still a little emotional, but nodded with a look of determination in her eye.
Molly was interrupted by a thought. “Did you ever catch the person directly responsible for your father’s death?” she asked.
Chaakwa shook her head. A strand of raven hair dropped over her blue skin, and she reached up and tucked it back behind her ear. “There were a few suspects, but not enough evidence to get a conviction.”
Molly pursed her lips, thinking for a moment. “I have some resources at my disposal. We need to take out The Syndicate, and I need your help to do it so that they can’t rebuild. But how about you let me and my team take a look at the case file, and anything else you have on your father’s murder? Would that be okay?”
Chaakwa’s mouth dropped open. The emotions from talking about her father to a near stranger, and then the possibility of getting some help with a case nobody would touch, made her feel a lot of things all at once. Her face showed she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Yes!” she said enthusiastically. “Yes, I think that would be okay.”
The two women finished their mochas and lunches as Molly explained the intricacies of her plan to her new ally. When they were done, it was decided they should get to work right away. Chaakwa would sign Molly in as a visitor, and they would work from a spare room in the precinct - which is where they headed back to, armed with additional mochas for the afternoon ahead of them.
Senate House, Spire
Joel, Garet, and Paige had been working for the last several hours on the phones, rallying support for a new bill that Garet and Paige had written together only hours before. Molly’s notes and outline had helped, but there had still been a ton to do.
A couple of interns who had helped with the research were still buzzing about the office, dotting the ‘i’s and crossing the ‘t’s on various sections and footers. The piece was pretty much ready for submission, though.
Joel came back in the room, closing the door gently behind him. “Senator Beaufort, it’s time we made our way over to the meeting with the Attorney General. I’ve just been told he’s arrived in the building.”
Garet looked up from the sofa and held up a finger. He was dialed into a conference line. He glanced at Paige, who seemed to be on the same call. She nodded and took over, explaining that the Senator had to go to another meeting.
Joel was impressed at how well Paige had just jumped in and adapted. That ability would probably have taken someone else years of training. He had a feeling that, though she had been in this world before, today had still been a learning curve for her.
Garet got up, straightened his suit, and strode over to the door where Joel was waiting. Joel regarded him carefully. “Sure you’re ready for this?” he checked.
Garet nodded sincerely. “Yes. Ready.”
Joel reached for the doorknob and pulled the door open for Garet, who stepped through. Joel followed him, and they made their way down the hall to the official Senate House conference room.
When they got there, the Attorney General was already present. He was a nerdy, weedy kind of Estarian, but from what Joel knew of him, he was actually a good man. The men shook hands, and Joel stayed by the door while the two civil servants sat and talked.
The meeting lasted maybe twenty minutes, after which, the AG sat back in his seat and crossed one ankle over his thigh. “You know,” he said, now smiling, “I never had you down as a humanitarian, Senator.”
Garet shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Yeah,” he scratched awkwardly at the back of his head. “I’m a work-in-progress. But this is just the right thing to do, given the funding we’re being provided with, and the need that will be hitting us.”
The AG bobbed his head and sat up. “Cool. Well, I’ll draw up the paperwork from our end, and make this official.” His official demeanor was dropping. He leaned forward, confiding in Garet, and glancing in Joel’s direction. “Personally, I’ll be thrilled to run this racket out of town.”
A boyish glee danced in his eyes.
The two men stood up and shook hands before the AG left. He even nodded and tapped Joel on the shoulder as he went out. Joel sniggered silently in his head.
The moment felt like the geek slapping the quarterback on the arm and saying, “thanks buddy.”
Joel shook his head as he watched the nerdy AG walk down the corridor with a spring in his step, finally able to feel like the big man in a town that had made him feel impotent despite his position, his qualifications, and his smarts.
Garet sighed, walking towards the door. “One down…” he sighed as Joel followed him out.
Police Precinct, Downtown Spire
Chaakwa pulled up the last of the case files onto an index holoscreen. “That’s all of them, plus my notes,” she told Molly.
Molly sipped at her mocha. “Shit. That’s a lot of notes to go through…”
Chaakwa nodded. “It is, but I’ve got half of it memorized, if that helps?” Chaakwa’s voice was bright, but Molly suspected she wasn’t entirely joking.
Molly peeled her eyes from the holoscreen in front of them. “You know, actually, it might.” Then she dropped her voice a little, conspiratorially. “Hey, are we being monitored in here?” she asked.
Chaakwa shook her head. “Not that I know of. Budget cuts…” she looped her eyes to the ceiling to punctuate her regard for the bureaucracy.
Molly leaned forward. “Okay. Good. So it’s probably time I fill you in on a few things…”
Molly explained to a gobsmacked Chaakwa some of the details of their operation, including the existence of Oz and their in-house tech abilities. She carefully omitted the part about living on an asteroid, though. The fewer people knew their location, the better.
When she was done, Chaakwa took a few minutes to process — alternating between stunned silence, and rapid-fire questions. Eventually, she understood enough to help Molly with the task.
“What we’re looking for,” Molly explained, “is anything that can tell us where the remaining pieces of Andus’s empire are hidden. Code names, shell companies, groups we don’t know about, and, of course, any properties he has access to.”
Chaakwa’s ears pricked up at the last item. “Not that he owns?”
Molly shook her head. “Remember how we said we’re taking them down? We’re going to physically take them down, too. And to do that, we need to know where they might be staying. We’ve got Newld holed up in her office building under heavy security. We have a suspicion where Mac might be; he has a safe house in the city. But Andus? He’s disappeared. Nothing to track; no trace. Nothing to hint at where he might be.”
Chaakwa thought for a moment, and then pulled up her holo. “You know, he owns so many properties. I have no idea how we might possibly narrow down his location…”
Molly’s brain was going a million miles a minute.
If I may intervene?
Sure.
He has a holo. We know that from learning he was in the same location as us and Garet the morning we went to pick up The Syndicate.
Hang on! You mean Garet met with them before we arrived, guns blazing, at the Senate House?
Yes. I thought you’d assumed that.
Yes, Oz, but it’s also nice to have actual evidence to back us up.
Okay. Well, I just found this out now, as I was contemplating how to solve our immediate problem.
I see. Anyway, go ahead. You were saying?
Yes. So we know he has a holo. It was registered under a random company, and to a fake name, but it must have been him, because the other two were Kerr and Newld. Then I tracked all the data from any previous holo he’s had registered under that name, assuming they were all him.
Okay, and?
Well I’ve traced his activity, and mapped his behavior over the last decade. Then I isolated the behaviors when he wasn’t under any perceived threat, and took those out. Now I’m looking at his geographical profiles for when he’s under threat. He has a few different hideouts he’s used.
Okay, so how do we narrow it down?
Well, his holo went dead between meeting Garet, and disappearing. But if we can overlay the properties he owns, plus any other building he might be associated with, we can look at what he was near — or moving in the direction of – when he killed the signal.
Molly nodded. Chaakwa looked up at her. “You’re talking to him now? Your AI?”
Molly smiled. “Yes,” she confirmed. “And he’s been doing an excellent job at solving our problem. Here’s what we need to do…”
Chapter 10
Mac Kerr’s Spire Safe house
“Okay, this is the address that Maya gave us.” Sean undid his safety harness and sat forward in the pod.
Jack did the same. “Let’s hope he’s there. I’m itching to try out these new hand guns.”
Sean glanced over at her. “Anyone ever told you you’re not like most girls?”
“All the time,” Jack smiled. The pod came to a stop a couple of feet above the sidewalk. The door slid quietly open and Sean slipped out, landing gently on the ground, followed by Jack. As soon as they were clear of the pods, the pods disappeared off into the air. Barely anyone on the street noticed their arrival, or departure.
Jack looked up at the building. “Looks just like a normal apartment block,” she commented.
Sean looked over at her, and then followed her gaze up. “I guess that’s the point when one is selecting a safe house.”
Jack glanced at him sideways, and then back at the building. “Okay, let’s do this.”
Sean nodded and strode forward towards the door, and then typed something into his holo. Jack couldn’t see what. A moment later, the door clicked open.
Jack stared at the back of his head. Sean could feel her eyes on him, but pretended not to notice as he slipped his weapon from his holster.
Jack wasn’t letting it go. “How the hell did you do that?” she asked in a hushed whisper. She briefly examined the door’s access point, and the door itself, as they moved past and into the hallway.
Sean turned slightly so she could see his profile. He put a finger to his lips, and then indicated forward.
Guess that conversation’s over, Jack thought as she took her weapon out and started sweeping the area.
Sean held up three fingers and pointed upward. Jack nodded and followed him as he found the stairwell. The pair made their way up the three floors, and found number 307 as fast as they could.
As they stood on either side of the apartment door, Sean contemplated what to do. Announce or just breach? Announcement would just give Kerr a head start, he figured. And who knows what kind of armament he has on the other side of the door?
His decision came down on the side of breach.
He signaled to Jack, relieved to have someone on his team who understood his hand signals easily. Not that Joel didn’t; he just always felt like he was being a dick when he went all military with Joel, for some reason. Jack, on the other hand, was a soldier through and through. She lived for this shit. He could tell.
Like, just now, when he signaled to breach in three, her eyes lit up as if it were her birthday.
Kinda cute, in a tomboy kinda way, he thought, before putting his mind back on the job.
He tapped at his holo a few more times, and the door slid open. He was the first into the apartment, quickly followed by Jack, who was ready to cover him and lay down fire wherever it was needed. Their weapons swept the whole scene to find nothing but a sparsely furnished apartment.
They stepped farther inside, and still drew no fire.
No movement.
Sean used his hand signals to tell Jack where to search, and then he did a sweep in the other direction. Eventually, they both arrived back in the central living room, guns now lowered and shoulders slumped in mild disappointment.
“Nothing,” Sean concluded.
Jack pushed out her bottom lip. “Pooh,” she remarked.
Sean grinned. “Now you look like a girl!” he told her.
She quickly straightened her face and copied Sean’s normal pose. He couldn’t help but laugh.
Jack looked around, noticing details. She wandered back into the kitchen, looking for any signs of heat, food, or recent activity.
“I don’t think he’s been here for a while,” she called through to Sean.
Sean swiped through the living room holo, looking at recent activity. “Looks like. Most recent activity that wasn’t just the cleaner checking in was about nine months ago,” he told her as she came back into the room.
She leaned against the kitchen doorframe. “Think he’s on the run?”
Sean turned to look at her. “Probably. I mean, hopefully. According to Molly’s profile, that would be a fate worse than death.” He paused, looking around and holstering his weapon again. “Although…” he ambled over to look at a picture of the city, “Spire was his home. From what we can tell, after he left the outer system, he worked hard to not have to keep running and hiding. He went to great lengths to change his identity. My guess is he won’t be so easy to run out of the city.”
Jack went over and stood next to Sean as he inspected the picture on the wall. “You think he might change his identity again?”
Sean nodded. “He might try. If it means disappearing but keeping the comfort of his old life.”
Jack glanced up at him. “So, is there any way we can trace that? So that he can’t?”
Sean tilted his head sideways. “I’m not sure. There are a few things we could try…”
He started back towards the door. “In the meantime, he’ll be sweating it out; which is exactly what Molly wanted for him. He knows we’re onto him, and he knows we’re coming for him. It’s just a matter of time.”
He led the way back out into the hall and pulled up his holo, connecting a call with Maya. “Hey, Maya,” he said, waiting for Jack to follow him out and then closing up the apartment behind them. “Looks like the apartment is a bust. Want us to run down any more locations while we’re down here?”
Jack waited while Maya and Sean spoke over his implant. She headed back in the direction of the stairwell, noticing everything she could about the building — imagining the people who might live here, while listening for any sounds of life. There was nothing. Just silence.
And Sean. “Okay. We’ll head back, then; but let Molly know that if she needs us, we can be with her as soon as she has a location she wants to check out.”
Sean and Maya said their goodbyes, and then Sean hung up.
Sean shrugged as he headed over to the stairwell. “Looks like it’s back to base for us. For now. There’s another possibility that Oz has flagged, but we’re going to need a different ride.”
Jack eyed him suspiciously, but already knew better than to push him to reveal. He was having way too much fun. Something told her that the next ‘ride’ was going to have big, manly guns attached to it.
And probably lots of them.
Senate House, Spire
Joel stepped back into Garet’s office. “Hotel is booked,” he told Paige.
She looked up, eyes weary and skin dull from the hard work and focus.
“You look beat,” he told her.
Paige nodded. “I am,” she sighed, closing down a holo screen and sitting back. She glanced at Garet, who was pacing by his desk, talking to another senator. “I think it’s time to call it a night. We’ve done all we can do.”
Garet finished his call and turned back around. “We’ve got another one on board,” he announced.
Paige, despite her fatigue, clapped her hands. “That’s great news!” she exclaimed brightly. Then her face changed suddenly to serious-Paige. “But we need to get some rest.”
Garet waved as if to tell them goodnight, but Paige wasn’t done. “And when I say ‘we’, I mean all of us.” She looked at him sternly as he went to make another call. “I mean it, buddy. Plenty more to do tomorrow,” she told him.
Garet looked at the time and yawned. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” He raised one eyebrow, almost playfully. “Probably,” he added.
She narrowed her eyes and started packing up. Joel stepped over to the sofas to help her.
Garet had started doing the same. “Hey, do you guys need a car to your hotel?” he asked.
Joel looked over. “No, but thank you. We’re good.” He had a glint in his eye. Paige could tell he was dying to show off the pods, but she knew he wouldn’t. They’d had this conversation about the tech they had access to. It just wasn’t worth drawing attention to it.
Joel had done all he could. “Okay, I’ll meet you outside on the steps, Paige.”
Paige smiled over at him. “Sure. Thanks,” she added.
Garet ambled over and perched on the chair next to the two sofas. “You did good today,” he told her.
She smiled. “Thanks. You weren’t bad yourself.” She glanced at the door. Part of her wanted to be here, to get some closure; the other part of her just didn’t trust him. She wasn’t concerned about her safety – she just felt a little uncomfortable around him, now.
Garet dropped the professional facade for a moment. “So, how is life up on Gaitune these days?” he asked.
She could see his eyes were fatigued with stress, and he’d started graying a little. Yet somewhere, she felt, was the same guy in there: the junior official who would flirt with her when he came by her desk to see his boss.
Paige closed her bag and stood up. “It’s great. It’s everything I didn’t have down here.”
Garet stood up with her. “Good. Hey, let me walk you out…” He motioned to her to lead the way and they headed for the door. Before they got there, though, he stopped. “You know… if you ever wanted to come back…” His voice seemed to catch in his throat.
Paige turned around to look at him properly. He seemed genuine. She paused a moment, considering.
He looked at her expectantly, like maybe without Joel around she might be different. Paige’s eyes dropped to the floor and she shook her head. “No. I don’t want to.” She forced a smile. “But thank you.”
Paige turned and stepped through the open door. Garet made it to the door and paused. He hung one hand on the door, trying to decide whether to follow her out or to stay, and escape any awkwardness.
He called after her. “You go on ahead. I’ve just remembered something I need to do.”
She turned back and waved, then carried on down the hall, feeling just a little bit stronger; feeling that her answer had allowed her to reclaim a small piece of herself.
Police Precinct, Downtown Spire
Molly sat back in her chair and stretched. “Oh my ancestors. I’m so ready for another mocha!” she declared, half-yawning, half-whining.
Chaakwa looked up, her stony police lady face breaking into a grin. “How on Sark will you sleep tonight, if you have one at this time?”
Molly shook her head. “It’s a good point, but the mocha addiction comes first.”
Chaakwa chuckled. “You’re a braver woman than I,” she smiled, looking back at the file she’d been scouring through.
Oz, we got anything new?
Closest match is a 78% probability.
“Still at 78% for that abandoned building…” she relayed to Chaakwa.
Chaakwa pursed her lips. “Damn it. Lemme see if there are traffic cams in that area. Maybe we can get lucky…”
Chaakwa opened a different screen and started identifying herself to the police system.
It was past 11pm, and most of the normal office activity outside had died down. Molly had considered trying their in-house mocha machine, but each time had talked herself out of it, knowing what a disappointment it would be.
“Let me call my team and let them know where we’re up to,” she said finally, getting up out of the chair from which she hadn’t moved for the last several hours.
Chaakwa acknowledged her statement and continued accessing the system, cross-referencing the address and cross streets they were interested in.
Molly had pulled up her holo. The call connected. “Hey, yeah, it’s me.” She paused. “Yeah, I guess Oz is routing it through the ops room, and whatever mystical tech they’re using there. Yeah, it’s on my list… anyway, Maya, listen to me.”
Molly paused, waiting for Maya to finish her apology for rambling. “It’s okay. I’m here with Detective Chaakwa; we’ve identified a building where Andus might be holed up, but we’re working on making certain he’s there. In the meantime, Oz is going to send you some other intel we’ve gathered. Detective Chaakwa had another four or five businesses, and some more properties for him that we didn’t know about. We need you and Pieter to do the same on those, alright?”
Chaakwa glanced over at Molly while her system completed a search. Molly continued talking some more. “Yes, yes. That’s fine. Okay, I’ll be back in a few hours, I think. Check in on Joel and Paige for me, and get an update.”
She paused again. “Yep. You’re point lady right now. It suits you,” she added with a little laugh. “Okay, great. Yes, see you in a little while.”
Chaakwa smiled over the top of her holoscreen. “Good team you have there,” she commented.
Molly considered her statement. “Yes. I think you’re right,” she said, smiling contentedly. She flipped her holoscreen closed and sat back down where she had been working. “Right, let’s see if we can get that 78% to over 90%…”
Senate House, Spire, Conference Room
It was mid-morning the next day, and Garet had managed to peel himself away from the hub of activity happening in the main conference room where he had met with the AG the previous afternoon.
He pulled up his holo and called Molly. The call connected.
“Molly. Hi. Yeah, it’s me. Everything is okay.” He paused, listening in his auditory implant. He nodded. “Yes, we’ve got the ruling you need. The AG is on board, and we’ve just agreed by a majority to support it. It all goes official next month, but we’ve more than enough support to make it a fait accompli.”
Garet glanced back through the half-open door he’d just come out of, and watched the other senators and decision-makers for the city work through the fine details. There was little disagreement on what needed to happen; the only friction they were working through was how to best get it done.
And that was the kind of friction they were all happy with.
Joel stood in the opposite corner of the room, carefully watching everything that was going on. He caught Garet’s eye and gave him a discreet thumbs up. Garet nodded, smiling, then stepped away from the doorway again.
Garet answered Molly’s question. “Yes; within about six months, the law about needing private insurance will be repealed, effectively undoing the system of financial slavery.”
He smiled, hearing how pleased she was at the result. Then he continued. “We have enough commitment to ensure that there will be government-supported health provisions. We have one or two key players we still need to bring on board, but this is more than enough to undo the primary care level of Jessica’s empire.”
He winced, hearing Molly squeal with delight on the other end of the call. Quickly he grappled with the holo to attenuate the volume. He was glad he did. It went on for a little while.
“Okay. I should get back in there, then. Talk later.” They said their goodbyes, and he ended the call before stepping back in the room.
Chapter 11
Gaitune-67, Hangar deck
It was late morning and the team had already been up for hours, prepping for the final takedown of The Syndicate. Spirits were high as the team assembled on the hanger for their final pep talk and briefing.
Pieter and Brock stood around, feeling a little out of place— as even Maya seemed to have suited up into something combat-comfortable.
Sean, Crash, and Jack were obviously ops-ready, with their body armor and flight gear outlining and accentuating all the places a warrior would like to look big, or trim.
Molly was the last to arrive, presumably having just come from a talk with the General. Her face was serious, and her hair pulled roughly back against her head. As she approached, the team hushed; sensing intuitively that this was big leagues, as well as potentially life-and-death, now they had got through all the research and prep.
Sean stepped over to her and handed her the wooden stick that she’d started carrying on missions. “I dunno how much use this is against the guns that fire bullets and rays,” he told her, “but I’ve seen you use this thing… and you’re pretty lethal with it. I thought you might like to take it with you - just in case.” Molly looked up at him, noticing a genuine respect and caring in his eyes. For the first time ever, she saw him as a protector— not just a warrior. She shook the thought from her head, calling herself stupid for such a silly observation. Her appreciation was evident, though. “Sean… thank you,” she told him softly, if not a little awkwardly.
He touched her shoulder, careful not to let his hand linger too long in front of the others - in case they misinterpreted it. “I just figured without Joel here to support you, it… well. You know.” He stepped back to where he had been standing with the others, and let her start the briefing.
Molly nodded to him in thanks, and then looked to the whole team assembled. “As you mostly already know, Detective Chaakwa was very helpful yesterday. She helped us to not just find the likely location, but to get a 92% confirmation on where Andus is right now.” She pulled up her holo and stretched the screen to make it big enough for the small group to all see.
Oz, show us the footage, please?
Molly continued, talking over the video clip. “Traffic cams clocked him two blocks from this location. We’re pretty sure he’s here. Maya, you know what to do with this one. Take Pieter and Brock, and let’s make Andus’s worst nightmare come true.” Molly and Maya exchanged knowing smiles.
“Wo-oooooooooah!” interrupted Brock. “We ain’t combat ready!” he protested, his whole body involved in the conversation.
Maya chuckled and put a hand on his forearm as she stood next to him. “It’s okay,” she tried to assure him.
Molly grinned at him. “Don’t worry, Brock. Maya’s got the game plan. You don’t need to be combat-anything. In fact, you boys just need to look pretty. Maya’s got this handled.”
Brock turned and checked out Maya head to toe, then back to front.
Maya chuckled again. “What you doin’?” she asked, trying to see what he might be looking at on her body.
Brock clapped his hands once. “Girl, I’m just looking to see how many weapons you’s packing!”
Maya grinned. “I don’t need any. You’ll see why…”
Brock stood mostly still again, muttering quietly to Pieter who stood on the other side of Maya. “We’s dead. We both is dead!” he warned him, now mostly playing, but clearly still a little concerned by the latest plan.
Molly shook her head, smiling. She continued the briefing. “Meanwhile, Jessica’s empire is crumbling,” she announced. “Yesterday, the board voted to offload 164 of the subsidiaries. This means that within a few hours, the announcements will have all been made, and the share price of her company will plummet uncontrollably. Her empire will be destroyed.”
There was a mini round of applause in the team. Molly appreciated their enthusiasm for the conquests that were more than just blowing shit up. She was in task mode, though, so she skipped really enjoying the experience, and continued on with the briefing. “Crash and I will deliver the news to Jessica, and explain exactly why this fate has befallen her,” she told them.
“Sean and Jack,” she said, looking over in their direction and tapping her stick against the side of her leg, barely feeling it through her knee-high combat boots, “you’re cleared by the General to use the Mini Empress to take out Mac’s desert safe house.
“Oz,” she told the rest of the group, “has tracked Mac to a safe house in the desert, which has powered up. The General agreed that you need a ship to deal with that one; the pods just aren’t built to go up against anti-aircraft guns. Plus, I understand you’ll both enjoy blowing the fuck out of something,” she added, turning back to Sean and Jack with a glint in her eye.
“You got that right, boss,” smirked Sean, flexing his pecs underneath his folded arms.
Jack stood next to him, looking just as battle-ready; and maybe even a little battle-hungry, from the look in her eye. Sean glanced down at her and put out his hand for a high-five. She slapped his hand hard, forcing him to shake it out and mouth “oww,” mostly for the amusement of the rest of the team.
Molly wasn’t done with that part of the op, though. “Be careful,” she warned. “From what we know of this guy, he is weapon-savvy, and a former arms dealer. There is no doubt he’ll have some nasty shit stashed away somewhere, and where better to keep it than out in the desert? You’re flying into a war zone. Don’t think of it as just one guy with a gun.”
Sean and Jack had both sobered up with their playing, and nodded solemnly.
“Okay, folks,” Molly said, bringing their attention back to her briefing. “One last thing. Joel and Paige are still at the Senate House with Garet. It’s thanks to their hard work that we’re able to do this takedown in good conscience, and leave the planet much better off than before.” She paused, looking around the team. There was a sudden air of respect and almost pride in what they were about to achieve.
“Let’s keep them in the loop,” she continued, “and make sure we bring them home safe when all this is all done. Joel has full jurisdiction to make a decision on what happens with Garet when we’re through. They’ve been working closely, and we think Garet has indeed thrown his chips in with us; but Joel has the final decision on that one… just so we’re all clear.”
There were nods and “yes ma’am”s that reverberated around the hangar deck.
“Okay, let’s move,” she told them, clapping her hands the way Joel does to indicate they were dismissed to get going.
With that, the team members scrambled into their respective pods. Jack and Sean strode across to a different area of the hangar; they needed to collect their new toy: a small, light-weight, fast-moving, safe-house-bombing version of the gate-enabled Empress that drew everyone’s eye whenever they would step into the hangar.
Andus safe house, Spire, Vættaborgir and Hellisgata
Maya hopped deftly out of her pod into the alley. She turned to see Brock and Pieter following suit, looking slightly nervous. Maya pulled out her weapon, and switched it on as the pod disappeared up into the air.
She looked at the two guys, who nodded and started following her. She could sense their hesitation, but had done every little piece of preparation she could think of for this op. Besides, she’d been in dicier situations before now, and had never had the comfort of a weapon. She held the grip tighter, hoping to her ancestors she wasn’t going to need it.
She approached the door and saw that it indeed had a retinal scanner to grant access. Rather than stepping up to it, she pulled up her holo and typed to Oz. A moment later, the door popped open, allowing her to step inside.
The boys followed her through.
As she moved into the dark, dank passageway, she tried to hold her breath against the dust and the smell.
“Not the pleasantest of safe houses he could have chosen,” she commented, trying to put the boys at ease.
Pieter grunted. Brock stayed quiet, allowing Pieter to go ahead of him.
Maya kept walking down the passage, her wits on edge now that she was here, as the realization dawned on her that a bit of paper in her jacket pocket probably wasn’t going to do much against some heavy with a gun.
She was going to have to Maya Johnstone her way through this.
With that thought, she took a deep breath, her shoulders went back, and she grew an inch and a half in height. She even noticed a muttering from the boys behind her. Striding down the corridor now, she was alert but relaxed, energetically daring anyone to defy her.
The group found their way into the open area, with the elevators to the right and a little counter ahead of them. It looked unmanned.
“Hello?” Maya called out.
There was movement behind the counter, in the little room that visitors couldn’t see into from this side.
Brock pulled out his pistol, and Pieter tried to do the same.
The scrawny Ogg attendant appeared from the little room, and peered over the counter. “Greetings. Are you here for Mr. Andus?” he asked politely.
Maya did a double-take, and lowered her gun. “Yes. Yes we are. How did you-”
The Ogg’s face suddenly scrunched up in aggression, and a moment later he was pulling a gun on the trio.
BAM BAM, he shot over the counter.
Maya returned fire before running out of the way. Brock dove the same way, and Pieter jumped back into the dark passageway, out of sight.
There were more gunshots through the counter. Maya scrambled to sit up on the floor, and, in one movement, had swivelled around and was returning fire in the direction of the sound. A split second later, the little Ogg had appeared around the side of the counter, and not only was he exposed himself, but he had a clean shot on both Maya and Brock.
Brock cowered, and then panicked and aimed his weapon at the Ogg, getting three rounds off. None of them seemed to connect, because the Ogg was still standing.
Maya became aware of an alarm sounding. “We’re your new bosses, you idiot!” she screamed at the Ogg.
The gunshots kept happening. Maya couldn’t tell which direction they were coming from, but a second later she could see that the Ogg was convulsing on the floor. She looked over to the right, and saw that Pieter had managed to stun him.
The shooting stopped, but the elevator doors opened, and two heavies emerged. Both Estarian. Each built like the side of a space truck.
They stepped out, saw the attendant on the floor, and pulled their weapons.
Maya put her hand up. “Wait!” she screamed. She scrambled for her holo. “Let me show you! We’re your new bosses. You answer to us, now.”
The first Estarian pointed at her with his gun, but signalled for her to pull up her holo. His partner grunted at them. “We answer to no one but Mr. Andus,” he told them.
Maya shook her head. “You work for WBA Security, right?”
The Estarian nodded.
“Yeah,” she pulled up a holoscreen on the paperwork, “we own them. You work for us, now.” She started scrambling to her feet, as dignified as she could.
Once on her feet, she indicated to the Ogg. “So does he.” She waved her gun up towards the rest of the building, which housed a hotel and various restaurants. “So does everyone in the hotel.”
And then she pointed her gun at the elevator. “And everyone down there.”
The two Estarians looked at her in disbelief. The vocal one shook his head. “Wait here a minute,” he told her, and started pulling up his holo. He walked through to the passageway to make a call. The other lowered his weapon.
Pieter joined them properly in the foyer, and helped Brock to his feet. “Motherfucker!” he exclaimed, his face pale, and hands shaking. He whispered to Pieter. “Man, I’m getting my ass down to that range when we get back. No more Mr. I-can’t-fire-a-gun crap,” he swore.
Maya shifted on the spot, running through plan B and plan C in her head, praying she wasn’t going to need them.
The tough came back in and seemed strangely amiable. Almost pleasant. “It’s okay, Derek. It’s true,” he told the other Estarian. “They are the new owners.”
Derek looked at him, his mouth hanging open. “Just like that?” he asked, shaking his head.
“Just like that,” his friend agreed.
Derek turned and looked at the Ogg. “What about him?” he asked. The other Estarian looked down at him, almost without sympathy. “Suppose we should get him a doctor,” he commented.
Maya saw her chance. “That would be a sensible idea. But first, I’d like you,” she said, pointing at the Estarian who had made the call, “to take us down to Mr. Andus. He no longer owns the building, so he needs to vacate it.”
The Estarian looked shocked again, but quickly came to terms with the logic. A new thought seemed to cross his face. “Errr, so what does this mean for us?” he asked. “I mean, are our jobs safe?”
Maya shook her head in amazement. “I’m not sure. But if you cooperate, I’ll be sure to put in a good word with the decision-makers we bring in.”
The Estarian nodded vigorously. “Right. Okay. So, erm. As you know, that’s Derek. I’m Mo…” he hit the elevator button. “I’ll take you down to Mr. Andus now.” He looked over at his colleague. “Derek, get a doctor in for that guy, will you?”
He turned and looked at Brock and Pieter. “Are you all okay?” Mo asked, brushing Pieter down with his gun-free hand. Pieter was nearest to him, and in the scuffle had gotten cobwebs on his atmosuit.
Brock was the one to respond. “No, we are not,” he told him. “Getting shot at isn’t in my job description.”
Mo leaned in. “No, it wasn’t in mine when I first started, either.”
Brock looked at him incredulously.
Mo, relaxing and oblivious to his social faux pas, put his gun away. The elevator arrived, and he held the doors as he ushered the others in. “But you know, I don’t mind it. We get free dental if we agree to carry a weapon…”
Brock clenched his fists by his side and resisted the urge to thump the guy. Pieter was revelling in the win of being able to stun the guy that had attacked them.
Maya was the last to step into the elevator. Her dominant thought in that moment was figuring out how the hell she was going to tell this story later when they got back to base…
Iantrogen Offices, Downtown Spire
Jessica flicked frantically through the reports she’d been receiving during the morning. Her legal team was buzzing around in the conference room down the hall, but the constant interruptions— together with the influx of terrible news every five minutes— had her beyond irritated.
She reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of Scotch. Not her first choice. She would have much preferred a martini, but the effort and waiting that she would have to go through to acquire one right now was beyond what she could tolerate.
“Ms. Newld”, another interruption poked its head around her door.
“Not now!” screamed Jessica, her wits fried.
Her assistant didn’t disappear, though. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Newld, but the building is being evacuated.”
Just then, about a third of her security detail came barging in past the assistant and started ushering Jessica out of the office. “What in the name of my ancestors is going on?” she demanded at the top of her voice.
The assistant was whisked away.
The security team leader stopped short of grabbing her arm, but encouraged her towards the door. “Ms. Newld, there is a security breach. We’re under attack. Please come with us,” he explained as succinctly as he could.
Jessica couldn’t understand what was happening. “It’s the middle of the day. Are you telling me that Bates girl is coming in here, in broad daylight, with all these people around?!”
The cardboard officer took his weapon from its holster and glanced back towards the door. “Ms. Newld, I’m afraid she’s already here. We have to leave,” he told her firmly.
Jessica felt hands on her arms, and her weight being lifted from the floor. “I can walk!” she shouted.
The team leader released her arm. She rearranged her clothing and tried to gather herself. “Lead the way,” she told him, smoothing her hair, and picking up her compact mirror. It was one thing to be caught unaware in one’s workplace for an assassination; but it’s something else to have to stare down Molly Bates with her hair all dishevelled.
The security team led her out through the open plan offices, sweeping their weapons and muttering instructions and updates on their internal comms.
Jessica marched along, checking her appearance and following the guard in front of her, careful to communicate in her walk that she was not afraid. Once she was satisfied with her look, she popped the compact into her jacket pocket.
Halfway through the cubicle sea of the sales department, the entourage stopped dead. A second later, there was the sound of a stun gun discharging, and the slump of a body hitting the ground.
Then another.
And another.
Jessica looked around, desperately trying to see where the threat was coming from. “I know it’s you, Molly Bates!” she shouted out across the now silent office.
Another stun discharge and a slump.
There were three guards left. One in front of her, one in the aisle to her left, and one to the right. They were silently scanning the area, watching for any signs of movement.
Suddenly the one on her right fired.
She called ahead to the leader. “Where are your reinforcements?” she hissed.
He quietly spoke back to her. “On their way, ma’am.” He turned back to face ahead in the direction they had been moving, and suddenly grunted, and hit the deck.
Jessica looked up and there was Molly Bates, holding a piece on her.
“Well, if you wanted an audience with me, you just had to ask,” said Jessica coyly, trying to maintain the appearance of being in control.
Molly barely batted an eyelid. “It wasn’t an audience I was seeking,” she replied calmly. “It was all-out destruction… which, frankly, was well underway before I even stepped foot in the building.”
The rest of their onsite team will be here in three minutes.
Got it. Tell Crash.
They’ve just put in a call for a full squad of thirty, who will be coming from offsite. They are fifteen minutes away.
Okay. How many do we think are still left in the building?
Maybe ten - not including their general building security.
You mean donut eaters with guns.
Exactly.
Okay. We might be all right.
Molly started walking slowly toward Jessica, her weapon trained on her chest. “You will no doubt have seen that your trusted board of directors have been selling off your subsidiaries faster than you can say ‘caramel mocha’…”
Jessica’s eyes narrowed. “I suppose I have you to thank for that?”
Molly shrugged. “In part. Although, it’s been a long time coming… someone figuring out how you’ve structured your evil empire of Estarian exploitation.”
“Oh, please,” Jessica retorted. “Do I really need to listen to this? I take it you’re here to kill me. To make a point? To serve as a warning to all the other corporations that don’t pay out indefinitely on every single disease known to Sark?”
Jessica took a breath, folding her arms in indignation. “I’ll have you know that I and my family have built up these institutions to make the Sark system a better place for everyone. Yes, we make money… but that was never illegal.”
Molly couldn’t resist getting into an argument with the beastly woman in front of her. “Yes, it’s difficult to do anything illegal when you manipulate the legal system to suit your own ends; when you pass laws that make you richer and richer, as you actively exploit the very population you claim to serve!”
Jessica rolled her eyes. “Come, come now, Ms. Bates. I had you down as more than just the common activist. Surely you have something more than this?”
Molly stopped in her tracks, and stood almost too casually. It made Jessica nervous. “Actually, I do,” Molly told her.
“As you may or may not know… the price of your company’s shares is directly correlated to not just the number of smaller companies you own and control, but also the mechanism of buying or selling them. To be clear: when you sell them, the share price goes down. A lot.” Molly took half a step forward, her weapon now by her side. “One might even say it plummets,” she added.
Molly, the remaining security detail is going to be on our location in ninety seconds.
Okay, call for our own backup. We’re leaving soon. Have the pods ready by the windows.
Jessica’s face had paled. “Ah, you hadn’t realized that.” Molly smiled. “So what you may not have figured out yet, is that a total of 168 of your subsidiaries have been sold off, or are currently in auction.” Molly took another half step. “Now, I don’t know what happens when more than one subsidiary is sold, but, at a guess, I’m going to assume that the share price is going to go down more than just ‘a lot’.”
Jessica had taken a couple of steps backward, physically losing her balance as she tried to absorb the information. She grabbed onto one of the cubicle partitions.
“In a few hours, the authorities are going to cease trading shares in Iantrogen because the stock is effectively worthless. And that will be the end of the Newld Empire. Dismantled and destroyed.”
Jessica stumbled and fell to the ground as Molly advanced a few more steps. She raised her gun on Jessica, and Jessica’s eyes widened.
“Go on, just do it! Kill me! Get it over with, you little wench!” Jessica cried out.
Molly lowered her weapon. “Oh, no, you misunderstand me,” Molly sneered, finally getting to exorcise her pent-up wrath at the injustice that Jessica had been perpetrating. “I’m not interested in killing you; I just wanted to destroy everything that made your life worth living.”
Molly turned, and started walking away from a petrified and sobbing Jessica.
Okay, we’ve got incoming.
Molly could hear the rest of the security team coming in through the corridors on the left hand side of the open plan office. Straight away, she could hear Crash picking them off as they came through the door closest to him. Molly hurried over to help firm up his position. Standing behind a pillar, she too opened fire.
Oz, see if you can get Sean and Jack here. And Joel. If more reinforcements are on their way, we’re going to need some backup ourselves.
Roger that.
Molly swung around the pillar and fired stun rounds, taking out a security heavy with each shot.
Chapter 12
Andus safe house, Spire, Vættaborgir and Hellisgata
Maya followed the three guys down the dimly lit passageway. Even Brock seemed to have gotten a spring back in his step.
Mo glanced back at the group. “It’s not much to look at, but inside the apartment, it’s pretty comfortable. You know, nice white furniture, fully equipped kitchen...”
The group kept walking, the sound of their footsteps being absorbed by the dark, brick walls as they made their way closer to where Andus had holed up.
“Yeah,” Mo continued, as if he were a real estate agent giving them the tour, “and then we bring in food… Whatever you want. Mr. Andus just tells us what he wants that day, and we bring it. Fresh-like.” He paused, and spun round as if confiding a secret. “And booze,” he winked at Maya at the back of the group. “Whatever you want,” he insisted, as he turned and kept walking.
They arrived at the door, and Mo got his key pass out of his jacket pocket. “This is the override,” he showed them the strangely shaped key fob. “In case we need to get in.”
He knocked on the door. “Mr. Andus?” he called.
Turning back to the group, he showed them the retinal scan panel on the door access console. “He uses this. But obviously that won’t work for us,” he grinned.
There was movement inside the apartment. Mo knocked again, and called out, “Mr. Andus, there are some people here to see you!”
He started accessing the panel with the key pass. “I’m coming in. No one is armed. Well…” he chuckled, “except for me.”
Mo opened up the door to find Andus standing in the middle of the apartment in a vest and boxers, a gun feebly pointing at the intruders.
Mo made his way through the door, his hands out to show he wasn’t a threat. “Sorry, Mr. Andus. These people are the new owners, and they wanted to speak with you,” he reported.
Andus looked perplexed. “What are you doing, letting them in here?” he demanded, vexation filling his very being and replacing the fear he’d originally been experiencing.
Mo gently stepped further into the room; now with one hand on his holstered weapon, the other out in front of him, palm to the floor. “It’s okay, Mr. Andus. These people are the new owners. They’re not here to hurt you.”
Mo turned back to Maya and with a jerk of his head signalled for her to come into the apartment. Maya stepped bravely past the two boys who were obscuring the doorway, mesmerized by the sight of either the apartment, or of Andus in his underpants.
Maya took a couple of steps inside, drawing Andus’s attention. He lowered his weapon without considering he was giving up. His face was crumpled in confusion, and probably lack of sleep.
Maya’s voice rang through the sparsely furnished apartment. She was firm and commanding. “We’re the new owners of this building and your security establishment,” she explained. “My name is Maya Johnstone, and these are my associates,” she casually waved her hand at Pieter and Brock still standing in the doorway. “We are currently taking control of this and all properties in your groups. The paperwork is being dealt with by your lawyers-”
Andus exploded. “I didn’t sell anything!”
Maya nodded politely, and then continued. “I’m afraid that under planetary law, assets are automatically sold off in order to meet the debts in the portfolio. Your legal team has been working around the clock to make this happen since, well… I’m sure you’ve seen the news.”
Andus’s mouth dropped open and his face relaxed in shock. “News? What news?” he asked weakly.
Maya did a sympathetic head tilt, only partially succeeding in keeping her sarcasm out of her voice. “Oh, have you not been paying attention? Your company has crashed in value. As of three o’clock this afternoon, your personal net worth is less than zero.” She smiled a rather devilish grin. “You should probably check in with your people. She paused, glancing over at Mo briefly. “Before they’re not your people any more,” she added.
Andus blustered, trying to find a response.
Maya continued. “In the meantime, though, we’ll need you to vacate the premises. Immediately, that is.” She turned to leave, seeing the grins on the faces of Pieter and Brock as they hung onto the doorframe, watching the whole scene play out like a comedy sketch. She turned back, suddenly remembering something. “You may want to put some pants on first, though.”
And with that, she stepped back out into the hall as the boys erupted with laughter, high-fiving her and patting her on the back.
Brock grinned. “Molly wasn’t kidding when she said you had this one handled!”
Maya smiled. “Yeah, come on. Let’s get out of here. Our work here is done.”
Maya led the way back down the passageway, followed closely by Pieter and Brock. Mo made his excuses to Mr. Andus, and indicated in the direction of the door.
“I… I should, er,” he shuffled a little to the door. “I’ll let you find your pants,” he added, then turned and left too.
Andus stood exactly where he had been when they entered, watching them leave.
Aboard the Mini Empress, Somewhere over the Navanah Desert
Jack looked around the cockpit. “Shiiiiit, this is one sweet ride,” she beamed.
Sean smiled. “It is. She doesn’t have gate capabilities like her big sister, The Empress, but she has almost everything else. Plus, she’s easier to maneuver for the kind of surface work we’re going to be doing today.”
Jack was still admiring the array of controls.
Sean glanced over as he brought the ship lower into the atmosphere. “See if you can familiarize yourself with the controls for the weapons. Under the artillery section,” he indicated with a wave of his hand at the panel in front of her. “From memory, I think we’re pretty much loaded with everything we’d need.”
Jack frowned. “You mean, this is loaded with nukes?”
Sean shook his head. “Hell no. Very little call for those, now we have the tech to not have that nasty radioactive fallout for centuries on end…”
Jack’s face relaxed. “You mean, the Etheric Empire has managed to make its war heads environmentally-friendly?” she asked, shaking her head in amazement.
Sean grinned, and chuckled a little. “It sounds silly, but when you think about it, it’s the most sensible thing to do. The only reason we would normally be using force is to bring people around to our way of thinking. Devastating planets isn’t generally what leads to a healthy inter-empire relationship. We learned that the hard way…”
Jack looked skeptical, and Sean noticed.
Sean looked back at where he was flying. “Okay, so there are some exceptions…” he conceded.
“Like?” Jack prompted.
Sean looked uncomfortable for a moment. “Like when this Kurtherian race disrespected the queen’s guard, and videotaped it. That was enough for Bethany Anne to go nuclear. In more ways than one.”
Jack looked over in concern. “What happened?”
Sean visibly grimaced. “We don’t know, yet. She’s still off, ‘dealing’ with it.”
Jack nodded, knowing full well she was only getting part of the story. “This Bethany Anne is beginning to sound pretty intense.”
Sean chuckled. “You could say that,” he agreed. He checked his visuals and then the route. “Okay, we’re coming up on our target soon. Remember, he’s been preparing for a few days; if even half of the intel is correct, he’ll have men and artillery sandbagged there.”
Jack nodded. “Got it,” she confirmed. She looked anxious. “I could really do with testing these weapons, though.”
Sean shook his head. “No time. And the internal systems would flag any errors. Just go with what you know, and assume the ship can handle it,” he instructed.
He glanced over at her. “And don’t worry, love. I’ve got the flying bit,” he winked.
Jack shook her head, smiling. “Well, let’s hope so,” she retorted.
Just then, an alert she had set up on her console started flashing. “We’ve got heat sigs on that location,” she reported in.
Sean rolled his head to glance at her display. “Yeah, thought we might. How many?”
“Ten,” she counted.
“Fuck,” he sighed. “Well, too bad for them…” he concluded.
The ship quickly arrived at the target, and Sean dropped to a cruise for the approach. “Let’s get a visual recon first, and then nail them on the return,” he suggested.
Jack immediately adapted the weapons she had ready to lock on, and looked over at him, her eyes wide. “You’re worried in case they have missiles?” she checked, the thought dawning on her as she made her adjustments.
Sean looked somber. “I’m almost certain they have. I also just want to make sure we know what we’re about to level. I’m going to hail them. Be ready, though.”
Sean pulled up a comm channel and opened a line. “This is the Etheric Empire calling for Mr. Mac Kerr. Mac Kerr. Do you read?”
The line buzzed.
Sean repeated the message.
The line hummed again, and then there was a response. “What do you want, Grjónapungur*?” *(transl: cocksucker)
Sean smirked. “Wondering if you want to come out quietly, and save the lives of those innocent folks you’ve got holed up in there with you?”
The line crackled with interference. “Not going to happen. We’re going to take you out.”
With that, an anti-aircraft gun started firing at them.
Sean couldn’t be sure if it was a result of the interaction, or just because they’d come into range. Either way, he decided it was disrespectful.
Sean flicked a switch. “Okay, well don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He closed the channel and looked over at Jack. “Okay, I feel much better wasting this fuckwit, now,” he told her.
Jack smiled. “You turning her about, then?”
Sean nodded. “Yeah, just as soon as-”
There was suddenly an enormous roar that rocked the ground, and then the ship, as a rocket launched past them.
Jack spun around in her seat, briefly catching sight of the rocket out of one of the side windows. “That was a fucking missile!” she shouted. She paused a second, realizing something. “How come it missed us?”
Sean grinned. “We’ve been emitting anti missile bots in a suspension since before I hailed him. Their online systems aren’t going to be able to get a fix on us.”
“However…” he added, spinning around in his own special anti-grav console chair. He pulled up a weapons console similar to Jack’s. “Watch and learn,” he told her. He then pulled up a holoscreen and wrapped it around his console chair, so that it gave him a 180-degree view of what was outside the ship.
He flipped a few switches, and then steered what looked like the holo of a gun around to seek the missile. Finding it, the system automatically locked on. He hit “FIRE,” and, a moment later, a smaller missile of their own went screaming from their ship to collide with Mac’s.
The two missiles exploded in a rain of fire.
He closed the holos down, looking satisfied. “Can’t have those things just wandering around out there like that.”
Jack turned back to monitoring her own instruments. “You didn’t strike me as a tidy kinda guy,” she smirked.
Sean was back to flipping switches on the ship and turning her around. “I’m not. The military beat it into me, though.”
He pulled at the control wheel, and the ship’s nose pointed up, and banked steeply to the left. Jack was thrown back and up in her harness. “Fuckerty fuck!” she yelled, gripping the armrests on her seat, her knuckles turning white.
She noticed the g-meter in her display clocking the acceleration. It passed 30 Gs, and she started to feel her vision blackout. “Sean…” she tried calling out, desperately realizing what was happening to her.
The force suddenly started to drop off as Sean levelled the ship out. A few seconds later, her vision started to return.
Sean chuckled, as he rolled out the weapons console. “Quite the little G-monster,” he commented. “Most people would have loc’d out,” he added, his voice conveying he was genuinely impressed.
Jack scowled at him, recovering her vision. And attitude. “You know I was a fighter pilot for six years, you prick.” She pulled up her own console ready to unleash some mayhem. “And a bit of warning wouldn’t go amiss.”
Sean glanced back at her. “Noted,” he conceded, as way of an apology. Still, he caught her lips upturned a little in the corners. He could tell she was having the time of her life. “Okay, you ready with those differential missiles?” he checked. “We’re on the approach. Let’s see if you can take them out with one hit… Or else I’m going to have to pull this bird around again…”
Jack was already selecting the missiles and target as he spoke. “I’ll be ready before you get us a visual,” she told him confidently.
And with that, she felt the ship pull forward even faster.
Iantrogen Offices, Downtown Spire
The firing had subsided, but reinforcements were still on their way.
Crash was leaning against his pillar, recouping more from the adrenalin bolt than the exertion of shooting. “Good shooting, Lady Boss,” he called over to Molly.
Molly had her eyes and ears open, scanning the area for any sign of life. She emerged from her position behind the pillar a little way over. “Not bad going, yourself, Mr. Pilot-Guy,” she commented. She packed away her weapon for the time being and bent over, her hands on her knees.
Crash was watching her while he gathered himself together and holstered his weapon. “Takes it out of you, doesn’t it?” he commented softly.
She looked up. “Yeah. The adrenalin still makes me feel sick.”
Crash nodded, pursing his lips. “Yeah. I remember that from early training. Hated it.”
Molly glanced around and stood upright again. “Okay. Time to finish with Jessica, and then get the fuck up out of here before those reinforcements arrive.”
Crash looked more animated than his usual calm, collected self. “I’m with you on that one,” he concurred. “I’m just going to tap into their cameras, and see what else is going on in the building. Oz has a call into Sean, but he’s offline at the moment. Joel isn’t picking up, either.”
“Okay,” Molly acknowledged, as she turned back to where she had left Jessica. She strode through the cubicles, and landed at the spot where she had left her.
There was no one there.
“Shit. She’s gone,” she whispered to Crash over their open comm.
Crash responded immediately. “Want me to come help you find her?”
Molly glanced around. “No. She can’t have gone far. Keep an eye on things from here, and I’ll go find her.”
She and I have unfinished business.
Molly strode off in the direction of Jessica’s office.
If you’re under fire, you’re going to go for what is familiar. That’s the place where she is most likely to have a panic button or a weapon.
Reinforcements will be here in twelve minutes.
Okay. Thanks, Oz. We’ll be gone by then.
Molly found her way through to Jessica’s office pretty easily, having been there once before. The place looked different somehow, though.
Maybe they changed the decor.
Either way, she figured, it was a waste of her money… given that she just lost everything.
Molly heard movement from within the office. Carefully, she drew her weapon again, and pushed her way through the door. She scanned the assistant’s office. No one was there. There was another sound from within the office… like a clunk of something metal hitting a desk.
Molly took another step, and there, in the main office, was Jessica— holding a sword, the ornate sheath in her hand.
Jessica stood defiantly and looked at Molly, now unaffected by the gun trained on her.
Molly stepped into the room. “Not really the time to be examining your antiquities,” she commented. “Mind you, it might be the one thing in this place that will hold its value for you. You can sell it for rent money.”
Jessica had tears drying on her face. Her eye makeup was smudged, and her hair and clothes were now dishevelled. Apart from that, she was relatively unscathed.
Jessica nodded at Molly’s arm. “I see my security detail took a bite out of you,” she sneered.
Molly looked down, and noticed a tear in the upper arm of her suit. There was blood trickling out of the hole; presumably from a bullet wound. She couldn’t feel any pain, but her arm had been feeling weaker. “Looks like a graze,” she concluded. She knew what would happen if a bullet were lodged, or had been shot through her arm, and this wasn’t it.
Jessica smirked. “Let’s hope you have good insurance,” she told her. “Or else that’s going to be expensive.” Her voice lilted with venom.
Jessica stepped away from her desk and started chanting, holding the sword out in front of her.
Molly interrupted. “You think that your ancestors can help restore your empire?”
Jessica stopped what she was doing and turned her head to face Molly. “I’m not asking for their help,” she spat angrily. “I’m asking for their forgiveness!”
Jessica was about to continue her chanting, when she stopped herself, lowering the sword a little. “You don’t have a clue about all this, do you? This… shame, of what you’ve inflicted on me. It’s worse than death!”
Jessica turned the sword around so that the tip was pointing at her own chest. “The only way to redeem one’s essence from this kind of shame, is to fall on your ceremonial sword and hope the ancestors take pity on your valiant attempt to make things right.”
Tears welled in her eyes.
She turned, looking off into the distance in front of her again, her eyes glazing over. “For what you have done to me, I hope your ancestors forsake you!” The hatred and bitchiness in her eyes and voice were palpable. Molly felt a coldness in the air, and the noise of the building seemed deafening. She watched Jessica’s eyes turn black, and she started chanting again.
Something wasn’t right. Molly felt a presence, a darkness, start pooling in the room. Yet her eyes couldn’t perceive anything. Molly subconsciously took a few paces back, looking for something around her to steady herself against.
Jessica continued chanting her strange incantations, more and more forcefully now. She glowed with a dark light; a malevolence that seemed to exude from her once blue, effervescent skin. Molly felt her gut tighten. This was bad.
She looked around the office and noticed that not only had it become noisy, but also there was a strange wind circulating around them. Molly scrambled to get back to the door, but found herself paralyzed, unable to move. Unable to run. And unable to peel her eyes from what was happening before her.
The wind turned to a dark gray smoke. Molly could barely see what was happening.
For the first time in a long time, Molly felt not just scared, but deeply afraid. On a spiritual level.
Oz, what’s going on?
All parameters seem normal. It’s just your senses that are perceiving the activity.
Could this be…?
Molly didn’t get the chance to finish her question. Just then, there was an almighty crack, a flash of light, which blinded her from seeing what was happening, and then the shape in the smoke that was Jessica fell forward onto the sharp end of her sword.
Molly, terrified, lunged forward to try to stop her, but it was too late. Her fingertips barely touched Jessica’s shirt sleeve before her body was beyond her reach, and then on the ground.
Molly looked down through the gray smoke, and saw the sword blade had gone straight through her.
The noise started to calm and the wind subsided. The room stopped vibrating, and everything settled down again. When the smoke cleared, the room seemed to have returned to normal, and the sensation of an evil presence receded like a bad dream.
Molly stepped closer, shocked and horrified at the bloody sword sticking out of Jessica’s back. Jessica’s body lay facedown with her head turned, so Molly could see her eyes. They were still abnormally black.
Molly knelt down beside her, trying to process what had just happened. Sure it had been a possibility that Jessica might kill herself; and Molly had wanted her to suffer. But this? This was just wrong.
As she watched, Jessica’s eyes returned to normal and her facial muscles relaxed, making her look almost angelic and peaceful.
Molly, three minutes. We’ve got to leave.
Molly used her hand to close Jessica’s eyelids, and stood up. Understanding what had just happened was going to have to wait for later.
A moment later, she was running back through the open plan office area and jogging down the aisle of cubicles. Crash saw her coming, and opened up the window so they could escape into the pod hovering outside.
With one final tug, he slid the window open. “Come on, Lady Boss. We’ve got to move.” He started to put his foot out into the pod, and was thrown back. “What the…?”
A green flash ionized the air a few inches from the window.
Molly’s heart sank in her chest as she realized that there was a secondary forcefield around the building.
Oz, can you get this securi-field down?
Working on it.
He paused.
Shit. It’s not on the network. There’s no mention of it anywhere. It can’t be on a network. I can’t access it.
Well, then, we’re trapped. We need another way out.
Okay; down the stairwell, on the other side of the office behind you.
Molly helped Crash up. “Change of plan, Pilot-Guy. You okay?” she asked him.
Crash was grimacing. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just got a tingling foot now.”
Molly looked at it. She couldn’t see anything through his boot. “Can you run?”
He gestured in the direction of the other door. “With that lot chasing us? Hell yeah!”
They both drew their weapons and ran to the other side of the office. When they reached the door, Oz overrode the security lock on it. Molly hauled the door open, and the gunfire started. Crash slipped through and started running down the stairs ahead of her. The gunfire ricocheted against the door, as Molly vigorously returned fire.
Crash was halfway down the first flight of stairs. “Leave it, Molly! Let’s go!” he shouted up to her, now the most panicked she had ever seen him.
She stepped back through the door, and turned to follow him. Just then, she flew backwards against the wall on the other side of the stairwell.
She had been hit.
Her body slumped down on the floor. Crash was back up the stairs like lightning, checking her vitals without even thinking.
No reaction.
No breathing.
No pulse.
Shit. He forced the door shut, and tried to type to Oz.
Oz was offline.
Crash looked back at the door, panic rising in his chest. It was still unlocked, and those killing machines were coming for them. He picked Molly up and started moving down the stairwell, praying she was just knocked out.
Chapter 13
Navanah Desert
“Okay, she’s all yours,” Sean told Jack, as the safe house appeared as a spot in the sand below.
Jack gritted her teeth and guided her missile cocktail onto the target.
It locked on.
She hit release, and three projectiles screamed through the air from the Mini Empress.
She communicated the action. “Missiles released. Impact in 3, 2…”
An enormous explosion erupted beneath them.
Sean quickly pulled up and banked left a little to avoid the blast zone. Spinning around in their console chairs, they were able to see the explosion continue in the desert below them through the top left corner of their window.
Sean glanced over at his protégé. “You did good,” he confirmed. He pulled up some data on his heads-up display. “Yup. Totally annihilated. Good job, Captain.”
Jack grinned, watching the explosion, and enjoying the sensation of flying upside down under the pull of the maneuver. This was the moment she felt most at home. Nothing but fire and destruction… and a damn impressive pilot by her side.
She could get used to this.
Just then a communication came through on Sean’s holo.
Iantrogen Building, Downtown Spire
Crash carried Molly in his arms, running down several flights of steps, carefully watching her head so that it didn’t loll back and damage her neck.
She was bleeding. He couldn’t tell where from, though. He’d spotted the wound on her arm, but he was sure she’d had that before she’d been hit near the door. He arrived at another level and tried the door. This one opened.
Finally, he thought to himself, pushing his way into the sparse white corridor.
Please let there be medical equipment, he prayed, trying to recall the combat medicine training during his short commission. He made his way down the quiet corridor looking for signs of life, or anything that might possibly help him.
He passed a few doors to what looked like labs. Labs, labs, and more labs, he fretted as he kept striding down the way, his footsteps reverberating through the tomb-like corridors.
There was another door coming up on the left. He peered in the window. It looked like another lab with an open supplies cupboard. Ancestors only knew what kinds of supplies were in there, but it had benches.
He pushed his way in, still carrying an unconscious Molly in his arms. Making his way through the lab, he laid her carefully on the bench furthest from the door. Just a little further, there was another door. He strode over to check it. It had an exit, a window, and more supplies. Probably drugs, he considered, given where we are.
He turned back to Molly. She was still unconscious. Not breathing. And yes, no pulse; he checked again.
Straightaway, he started mouth to mouth and heart massage, refusing to believe she might be dead. Between cycles, he tried to inspect her head and body. The arm wound wasn’t enough to kill her.
He noticed she’d stopped bleeding from her arm – that was both good and bad.
Another cycle of air and heart massage.
Then he checked again. There was a taser burn in her hairline. She’d been hit. Her brain was likely fried. He checked her eyes and her pupils were unresponsive.
Panic and grief welled in him. He knew what this meant. He just refused to believe it.
Heart massage. One, two, three, four.
There was no Oz to contact.
He pinched her nose and breathed into her lungs again.
The team wouldn’t know where they were.
Head up, he took another breath, and breathed into her lungs, watching her chest rise.
Heart massage. One, two…
His thoughts wandered, replaying the sight of her falling down from an unseen hit. Seeing her body here motionless. He kept working, feeling less than helpless.
Breathe. One, two, three, four, five, six…
Joel was going to be devastated.
Tears trickled down his face. He took another breath, ignoring his own outpouring of emotion.
He breathed into her…
Senate House, Spire
Joel picked up a message on his holo. It was from Oz.
MOLLY AND CRASH IN TROUBLE. AT IANTROGEN. PLEASE HURRY. OFF NETWORK FORCEFIELD HAS US TRAPPED. NEED TO FIND IT AND DESTROY BEFORE ENTERING THE BUILDING.
Joel went white.
The message had been sent five minutes ago. He called Molly. The call wouldn’t connect.
He called Crash.
The call connected. He listened on the line. He could hear breathing and sobbing. It was Crash’s voice, but not. “Molly is down,” he sobbed. “She’s not breathing. No pulse. Please… Joel. Please.”
Joel felt disconnected from his body, like this wasn’t really happening. “Crash. Is that you?”
Crash blubbed through his grunts. He sounded like he was trying to revive her. “Hurry. There’s a securi-field. We’re trapped. She’s not breathing.”
Joel forced himself to focus, tears already streaming down his face, but he ignored them in favor of fixing this. “I’m on my way. Hang in there. Where are you?” he asked, realizing that Oz was going to be offline, too.
Crash had gasped and then gone quiet. A moment later he responded. “4th floor. In the labs somewhere.”
Joel nodded. “Okay. We’re coming for you. Keep her safe. We’re coming.”
Joel hung up and called Sean.
Sean answered straight away.
“Big-bad-blowing-up-fighting-machine, at your service,” Sean answered the call.
Joel’s voice was commanding, but tainted with emotion. “It’s Molly. She’s down. Not responding. No pulse. No breath. Sending coordinates. Meet me there. Bring your guns.”
* * *
Sean’s mood sobered instantly. “We’ll be there in minutes,” he confirmed. “Awaiting coordinates.”
A second later, he was on the nav system, finding a location to land the ship. Jack looked over at him, the area around her eyes contorted in concern. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
Sean answered simply. “Molly is down. It doesn’t sound good.”
Jack shook her head. “What’s the plan, and what do you want me to do?”
Sean was all business as he selected coordinates and prepared to land. “We’re going to put this bird down, and then use the pod in the back to get to her location.”
His holo pinged. He looked down and waved his wrist at Jack. “That’s the location,” he told her. “Get that programmed into the pod. We need to get there fast.”
Jack started fiddling with his holo, and then bumped the coordinates to hers. Sean focused on landing the ship at the edge of the desert. “And make sure you’re shielded and armed. This is a code 9 extraction, by the sounds of it.”
Senate House, Spire
Joel had hung up and headed straight out of the Senate building. There wasn’t time to explain to Paige and Garet. Besides, they were safer where they were.
Joel called down his pod using his holo, realizing he was going to have to figure out how to control it without Oz. As soon as it arrived, he hopped on board. Two minutes later, the pod shot up into the sky and into the direction of the Iantrogen building.
First job was going to be to find the forcefield generator. He started scanning for anything that had a forcefield signature, honing in as he got closer. The image of the building came up on the heads-up display. He turned it around, trying to figure out where it might be.
Either top or bottom, he figured.
He turned his scan towards the bottom of the building, and noticed that the signal was heavier there. Stronger. He pushed the pod further in, and tried to find any kind of controls for an on-board weapons system. He was sure it had some. After five long seconds of flicking through screens, he gave up and opened the pod door, setting his weapon to the highest setting, and then lowered the pod down to the location of the generator.
It took a bit of searching, but eventually he found it tucked in a shed. A simple gun wasn’t going to cut it. He holstered his weapon and rummaged in his combat suit pocket for a charge. He found one.
Let’s hope this is enough… he prayed under his breath. He lowered the pod to the ground and hopped out. Checking inside the shed, he saw words on the signage that backed up his conclusion. This was the secondary forcefield generator that was keeping Crash and Molly trapped.
He set the charge, pulled the pin, and then hopped back into the pod, pulling sharply out of the way of the blast zone just in the nick of time.
A huge explosion rippled over the entire building, cracking like a bolt of lightning. Joel quickly moved the pod back some more, looking for any fall out. There was no fire that he could see. No debris blasting off the structure. Just a huge amount of energy being released from the forcefield as it collapsed.
He watched a green light sheet across the structure as it tore across the width and height as the electric field ionized the air, before disappearing.
Without wasting a moment, he checked back on the heads-up display. The forcefield was indeed broken.
Now to track their holos, he told himself, wishing he had paid more attention to how Molly and Oz had been doing it. He felt like he was flying blind. And deaf. And dumb.
He scrambled through the heads-up display and found a search function.
SEARCH HOLOS, he typed in. It brought up every holo in the area. The screen was a mass of red dots.
Shit.
He started talking to himself. “Come on, you piece of shit. Help me find Molly’s holo.”
“Finding Molly’s holo…” a computerized voice repeated back to him.
Joel’s hands stopped, hovering just above the heads-up display. “You can hear me?” he asked, taken aback.
“Voice recognition is active,” the voice sounded over the in-pod auditory system.
Joel was confused. “Why have you never talked before?”
The voice responded to him. “Previously, controls were operated by the Intelligence known as Oz. There was never any need.”
Joel had questions, but right now, he needed to get to Molly.
The mass of red dots on the building overlay disappeared, showing just one. Molly’s. Fourth floor, just as Crash had said.
Joel felt a slight relief as he made progress through the things that had to happen in order to reach her. “Can you take me down to the fourth floor, nearest access point?” he asked the computer.
The voice crackled over the line again. “Nearest access is a window. Do you want that window disengaged?”
Joel was checking his gear and getting ready to fight. The computer pulled his attention. “Disengaged?” he queried.
The artificial female voice responded. “Yes. Removed.”
Joel pulled his weapon from his holster. “Hell yes, I’d like it removed!”
The pod whipped round to the side of the building closest to the red dot. A moment later, a window on one side of the building shattered, and the pod sped deftly closer. The door opened, and Joel was able to hop through the window and onto a bench that lined the room.
That’s when he saw her. Molly lay lifeless on a bench over on the other side of the room. Crash was still administering CPR, tears streaming down his face, relentlessly trying to revive her.
Joel couldn’t bear to look. He reached out and started moving towards her, but stopped as his legs collapsed underneath him. He hauled himself up, fighting the urge to crumple under his grief, hoping that despite her having no life signs for so long, there might still be hope.
Just then, Sean and Jack arrived through the same window.
Joel had barely approached her limp body and laid his hand on her face, brushing her hair out of the way, when Sean stepped over.
“It’s okay, buddy. There’s one more thing we can try,” he told him. He took Crash by the shoulders from behind, and moved him out of the way. Without hesitation or consultation, he gently scooped Molly’s body up into his arms, and headed back towards the window.
Joel’s hand fell away as Molly was moved. He watched them, stunned, grief-stricken, and in so much pain he couldn’t think straight.
Sean laid her body on the bench in front of the window for a moment as he scrambled up onto it, then picked her up again and put her into the pod.
Joel started to shout out after them, a howl of utter despair and darkness. Jack ran over to console him, very aware they needed to get out of danger, too.
And then the pod was gone.
Gaitune-67, Hangar deck
Meanwhile, back at the base, the Queen Bitch’s key ship was activating and powering up remotely.
Auto checks flicked through, one after another, preparing for takeoff. Preparing for an immediate gate jump.
Minutes later, the hangar doors opened up, and a lone pod arrived, touching down gracefully next to the ship.
Sean hopped out, and then hauled the body of Molly Bates out of the pod after him. His face locked in determination, he gently carried her up the invisible steps. As he hurried up them, he couldn’t help but remember her smile as she had examined the steps, when she was introduced to the ship only days before. He reached the top of the stairs, and made his way into the ship as fast as he could. He glanced back at the door he’d just come through, and could see her as if she were standing there right then, inspecting the magic of the door’s technology, marvelling at something she hadn’t seen before.
He shook his head and fought back a tear as he bustled straight into the cockpit. He put her limp, and now bloody, body into the Nav chair where she had sat the other day. This time, he buckled her in as the chair quietly adjusted to her weight and dimensions.
He paused a moment, adjusting her head on the headrest. His hand lingered on her face, and he gently brushed her cheek. Time was pressing. He went straight to the pilot’s seat, and started flicking switches. He had barely even strapped himself in before the ship was heading out of the hangar door, out into the inky blackness of space.
Normally, they would turn back towards the inner system. The system wasn’t where they were going this time, though.
The ship pulled a short distance from the asteroid, and a second later, disappeared.
Senate House, Spire
Oblivious to everything else going on, Paige and Garet were engrossed in conversation. Conversation about history.
Garet had been trying to defend himself, or, more precisely, his actions. He was just beginning to realize that it wasn’t going to work.
He sighed and rubbed his face with one hand before looking back at Paige. “Look, I valued power and status. Maybe I was wrong. But what I will acknowledge was that I didn’t do right by you.”
He was frustrated, but trying his best to concede. He finally let his defenses down. “We should have had more conversations, before this all happened. But then we ended up on the rock, and, well… Everything changed.”
He looked over at Paige on the other sofa, hoping for some glimmer of compassion. Paige took another swig of the beer he had sent for. Day drinking wasn’t good for her, but they’d been working so hard. And Garet had been so insistent they talk. “Yes, and you should have talked to me about taking the job.”
Garet leaned forward, placing the beer on the mocha table. “I see that now. You had no reason to stay on Estaria, even without me putting you in that position.” There was a genuine sadness in his eyes.
Paige didn’t look so sad. “It’s okay,” she reassured him. “I really did end up exactly where I was meant to be.”
Garet held her gaze. “Yes, and…”
Paige shrugged, amicably, but still distant. “Yeah I get it. And I appreciate you saying that.” She paused. “But what I’m more concerned about is whose side you’re actually on. I mean - we can’t tell. And from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’re playing both sides.”
Garet nodded. “I know, I know. And to a degree, I think I was. I wanted it all. I wanted for them to not kill me; but, also, damn they made it all so tempting.”
Paige frowned in disapproval.
“It’s okay,” he told her, putting his hands up in surrender. “I’ve learned my lesson. I need to pick a side. No gray area, etc, etc. I’m on board. You’re not going to have to worry about that with me, now.”
He picked up his beer bottle again and gestured around the room, at the place where they’d been sitting working for the last several days. “Plus, with what we’ve been setting up here, it’s not going to be necessary. The Syndicate is no more. We can finally start building a better world, without the fear of being knocked off in our sleep…”
He stood up and started pacing. Paige’s gaze followed him.
He swung his beer as he walked, deep in thought. “But, you know, it’s still not going to be easy. There will be people who are still invested in the old ways. There will be general resistance to change. There will be a need for re-educating even the people who it will ultimately benefit… out there…”
He noticed Paige was smiling. “What?” he demanded, smiling a little himself.
Paige’s smile broadened even more, and she flushed deep red on her chest. She shook her head a little and lowered her eyes, looping a stray strand of hair back behind her ear. “Nothing. It’s just… It’s good to see you when you’re like this…”
Garet stopped and blushed too. “You mean over-caffeinated, and over-worked?” he jested.
Just then, Paige’s holo buzzed. She picked up the call. “Joel? Hi,” she answered, confused. “Where are you?”
Joel explained on the other end of the call. “I’m at Iantrogen. We’re doing a quick clean up. Can you do something for me, and not ask any questions? I’ll explain everything when we get back.”
Paige nodded, glancing over at Garet with concern on her face. “Sure,” she responded.
Garet wandered over to where Paige was sitting on the sofas.
Joel was talking through her audio implant. “I had to attend to a situation. I’m sending the pod back to you. You can control it with your voice. It’s not Oz. I’ll explain that later. For now, I just need you and Garet to get in the pod and meet me back at Gaitune. We’ll all be there shortly. Understood?”
Paige bobbed her head. “Yes. Yes I understand.”
Joel’s voice was softer. “Thank you, Paige. I appreciate you just trusting me. I’ll see you soon.”
Paige looked up at Garet. “Okay, sure. See you soon.”
With that, the call disconnected.
Garet sat on the sofa next to Paige. “Everything okay?” he asked, his concern mimicking Paige’s.
She nodded, trying to act like there was nothing wrong. “I’m sure it’s fine. Joel didn’t say much. Just that he had to go somewhere, and that he was sending the pod back. He’d like us to take the pod back up to Gaitune now and meet him there.” She paused. “You okay with that?”
Garet looked flustered. “You mean leave now? And go all the way there?”
Paige started packing her things, her anxiety showing in her hurriedness. “Yes. It hardly takes any time at all in the pods. Maybe twenty minutes or so…” She looked up at him. “You haven’t been in a pod yet, have you?”
Garet shook his head. “No, but I’ve got a feeling that’s about to change.”
She smiled weakly. “Yeah. We should hurry. Joel sounded… not quite himself.”
The pair packed up and made their way out of the Senate House. As soon as they stepped outside, a pod descended to their location and allowed them on board.
“Hi,” said Paige, as she settled in, and strapped herself into her harness. “Gaitune, please.”
The auditory feed crackled on, but it wasn’t Oz’s voice. “Gaitune, it is,” it replied, before taking the pod up into the stratosphere and beyond.
Paige felt an uneasiness in her stomach. Something definitely wasn’t right.
Chapter 14
Iantrogen Building, Downtown Spire
Joel hung up the holo and turned back to Jack and Crash. “Okay, that’s Garet and Paige taken care of,” he announced.
Jack jumped down from the bench by the window. “Pod is on its way,” she told him.
Joel looked up at her. “Thanks,” he said absently, as he tried to think through the logistics. “Okay, so we have one more pod here, and you still need to pick up the Mini Empress.”
Jack shook her head. “I don’t think I’m capable of flying that thing,” she confessed. “I mean, the tech is like nothing I’ve seen. I was able to figure out bits of the weapons systems, but I need some training on that shit.”
Joel scratched his head. “Is it safe where it is?”
Jack ambled over to where he was standing, putting her hands on her hips. “I think so. I’d be happy to leave it until we can get back and retrieve it. It has a natural defense system, including a forcefield.”
Joel waved his hand and pulled up his holo. “Okay. We’ll leave it. Let me call Maya. She and Pieter have two pods, so they can come get one of us, and then we can use Crash and Molly’s pod to get us all back to base…” His voice trailed off as he looked back over his shoulder at Crash, who was peeling himself from the floor, and accidentally put his hand in some of Molly’s blood that had dripped from the lab bench where he had been trying to save her.
Joel’s face creased up again.
“Hey,” Jack said, stepping closer and putting her hand on his forearm. “There’s hope. Sean wouldn’t have taken her if he didn’t have a plan.”
Joel breathed, releasing the emotion that was welling in him. He nodded solemnly and connected the call with Maya.
Maya answered within a few rings. “Hey,” she said brightly. “You should have seen his face!”
Joel wished they could celebrate their victory, but it would be unfair for him to pretend. “Maya, we have a situation. Can you grab your pods and come and pick one of us up at Iantrogen? Sending coordinates now.”
Maya hesitated, trying to process the unexpected intel. “Er. Sure. Yes of course,” she said, catching up. “We’ll be right there.”
Joel replied, trying to keep the sadness out of his voice. “Thanks, Maya. See you soon.”
Maya’s voice was now full of concern. “Everything okay?” she asked.
Joel didn’t want to worry her, but at the same time, she needed to prepare herself. “Not really, but I’ll explain when you get here. Best thing you can do is help me get the team back to Gaitune.”
Maya shifted into task mode. “Of course,” she said gently. “Anything you need. We’ll be there right away.”
She clicked off the line, and Joel sent the coordinates.
“Okay, that’s done,” he said to Jack. Then he looked over at Crash. “Give me a hand with him?” he asked.
Jack nodded and walked over, gently stroking Joel’s arm as she let him be.
Joel stood motionless, expressionless, for the four minutes and forty-eight seconds it took for the other pods to arrive. When they did, he hopped in with Maya, and let Jack and Crash take the other one.
This was going to be the most difficult news to break to the team. Frankly, he didn’t know quite how he was going to do it.
Iantrogen Offices, Spire
Chaakwa Indus arrived at the scene, flashing her badge at the red and white tape. She followed the sound of voices down the corridor and into an open plan office area that looked like a war zone.
She spotted her colleague near the doorway, and walked over to him. “Thanks for the call,” she told him, shaking his hand.
Detective Barry Ferret greeted her. “Yeah, I figured you’d want to see, what with your involvement with this company.”
Chaakwa nodded. “Yes. Still, I would have preferred to see her tried for her crimes than this. It’s definitely her?”
Ferret chewed on his gum. “It’s her. We’ve had a couple of employees verify it.” He started walking into the sea of cubicles. “Want to see?”
Chaakwa nodded. “Please,” she responded following him through the crime scene.
Ferret started pointing things out. “This is where the main shooting happened. Video footage shows the Bates girl and one of her team holding back Newld’s personal security around here, after Jessica’s death.” He waved in the direction of the fire escape. “They disappeared off down there. There’s a broken window, and blood in a lab on the fourth floor.”
He turned and headed up through the open plan office, leading Chaakwa through to the executive suite where Jessica’s office was. “Newld is just through here,” he relayed.
Chaakwa noticed everything she could. Normally she’d be chatting away, talking theories. This time it would have been a waste of energy.
Ferret stopped at the third door on the left. He signalled inside. “Through there,” he told her.
Chaakwa stepped into the office suite, and then into Jessica’s actual office. Forensic personnel buzzed around, taking prints, photographs, and evidence, trying to determine what had happened.
Chaakwa cautiously stepped into the office. She saw the sword first. Then the body facedown on the carpet. Ferret appeared beside her. “I know this is going to sound crazy, because we can see from the footage that the Bates girl came in here before Newld died. Thing is, for this to have happened, Newld must have done it to herself.”
Chaakwa looked at him in surprise. Ferret seemed to glaze over, his eyes resting on the body in front of them, oblivious to Chaakwa’s stare.
“You’re telling me she killed herself?” Chaakwa frowned.
Ferret was still looking at the body. “Yeah. Some kind of ceremonial sword no less.” He turned to leave. “There were rumors she was an odd one. Strange practices, and all. I’ll tell ya,” he added casually, “suicide would make my job easier.”
He ambled out of the room.
Chaakwa looked around, unsure of what was really wrong with the scene. Something was giving her an odd feeling. She turned and followed after Ferret.
“So that’s what you’re putting this down as? Suicide?” she pressed.
Ferret kept walking as he talked. “Unless something turns up otherwise.”
Chaakwa frowned, curious about how he was happy to let the gun fight go unsolved. “But what about the Bates girl, and the gun fight?” she asked.
Ferret shrugged. “I’ll be trying to find out what that was about… sure. But if the forensics say she didn’t kill anyone, and she’s disappeared out of a window, chances are we’re not going to find her easily.” He opened the door back out into the open plan office, allowing Chaakwa through first. “Besides, maybe what this city needs is a few vigilantes to clean up the filth.”
Chaakwa detected a hint of anger in his voice. She wanted to question him, but he was already on to the next conversation. She waved at him as he wandered away, talking to another investigator.
Chaakwa headed back out under the crime scene tape and made her way out of the building. It looked like Molly and her team had been successful, at least. And had gotten away.
All she could do now was wait…
Aboard The Empress
Sean couldn’t believe his luck when he looked down at the nav coordinates. Plotting a course to the ArchAngel was complex at best. Under the conditions he was going to have to find them, though, it would have taken an immense amount of mental fortitude. And time. Time they didn’t have.
He glanced back at Molly’s body, strapped safely into the console chair. Bloody lucky she had already set those coordinates he mused, wondering if there was something coincidental or just downright mystical about how, out of all the places she could have plotted for the demonstration, she had chosen the ArchAngel.
“Well, you said you wanted to see the ArchAngel sooner rather than later. Looks like you’re getting your wish…” he whispered to her.
He looked back at his instruments, and then hailed ADAM for the second time that trip. “On final approach, ADAM. Can you have someone ready to meet up? She needs to be in a pod doc an hour ago.”
ADAM responded over the ship’s comm system. “Yes, there is a team waiting on the hangar deck already. You can have her in the pod in four minutes; unless you’d like me to take over the navigation of your ship, in which case we can make it three and a half.”
Sean didn’t hesitate. “You have control, ADAM.” He unbuckled himself and wriggled down out of the pilot’s chair. In a flash, he was over at Molly’s chair, unbuckling her.
ADAM brought the ship in to dock, gently. Sean carried Molly out through the passage, and to the invisible stairs. As he started down the stairs, he clocked the small group of medical attendants standing and waiting. Two of them started up the stairs, and, when they met, they took her body from him.
His mission wasn’t done, though. He hurried them every step of the way— through the maze of corridors, and into the medical center. They opened a pod doc, and he helped them lift her gently in. He looked at her face, pausing for a moment. She looked so peaceful.
He felt so wretched that this had happened.
I should have been there; I should have been protecting her; we should have been better prepared, he reeled in his head.
“I’m sorry, Molly. I’m so sorry,” he whispered, grief and anxiety lacing his voice like napalm. He became aware of an attendant pulling his hand back from Molly’s face so they could close the pod door.
He spun around to look at the doctor, vaguely aware of Lance hovering just inside the room. “You can save her?” he asked.
The doctor was non-committal. “She’s been out a long time. We can’t tell. Best to let the pod doc do its thing. We’ll know more in about twenty minutes.
Gaitune-67, Hangar deck
Joel had contemplated not telling them.
After all, without Molly, there was nothing to fight for. Nothing to do. His worst fear was that everything would fall apart; despite knowing his grief was tainting his judgment, he wasn’t entirely sure he was wrong.
Maya, thankfully, had respected that he needed to think, and that he would tell everyone what was going on when they landed.
Her silence was anxiety-laden, though.
The pod touched down, and Joel let her hop out first. She touched his forearm in comfort as she left the pod.
Joel followed her out onto the hangar deck where the rest of the team were assembling. They milled around for a little bit; the others noticed that both Crash and Joel had been crying, and that Crash was covered in blood.
They also noticed that Molly and Sean weren’t there.
Joel held his hands up to get their attention, and then beckoned them to come in closer. “Folks. Thank you for your work today, and for doing what needed to be done to get back here without asking questions.”
He looked around at their faces. Right now, in this moment, although they were concerned, they didn’t carry the burden of knowing what he had to tell them. Right now, their hearts were free.
“I’m so sorry to have to tell you this,” he started, “And I thought about not telling you until we know more; but then I know you would want to know what’s going on. Because Molly isn’t just your boss, or your leader; I know she is also your friend.”
He started to choke up. Jack stepped around to stand by him, and put her hand on his back for moral support. Joel sucked in air, and with it, his emotions, before they broke him in front of his people.
“Today, Crash and Molly went to see Jessica Newld. The threat that Jessica posed has been neutralized. Unfortunately, during that visit, Molly took a bullet.”
There was a gasp as his words landed with the group. There were whispers and cusses, but mostly just a feeling of horror in the air.
The team returned to a hushed state, waiting for Joel’s next words. “We don’t know how she is. We don’t really know what’s going on. Sean Royale took her off in a pod, hoping to try something to bring her back…”
Paige stepped forward a little, her voice breaking as she spoke. “Bring her back?” she clarified.
Joel nodded looking at the ground in front of him. “When I arrived, Crash was working hard to revive her; but we know there were several minutes where she didn’t have a pulse, and wasn’t breathing.”
Paige clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle her silent sobs. Her eyes welled up and she turned her back to the group to process.
There were other mutterings that Joel couldn’t make out. People started asking questions of Crash, who just waved and covered his mouth, unable to talk.
Joel brought their attention back. “Folks. I know you’re all worried. I know this is hard. This is the biggest challenge we have ever faced, and we’re going to do it together. We’re a team. That hasn’t changed. I’m going to see if I can contact ADAM and find out where Molly is, and if there is anything else…” he paused, projecting forward how that piece of news might play out. He looked back at the group. “I’ll let you know as soon as I know anything. You have my word. In the meantime, rest up. I’m going to need a quick report from each hit team to make sure nothing is coming after us. I’ll contact you soon.”
Paige stepped forward a little. “What about Oz?” she asked. “Surely he would know where Molly is?”
Crash finally spoke up. “Oz operates in Molly’s head, and her holo. Since she is down, he’s offline, too.” Crash composed himself a little more. “We have no way of tracking her.”
Joel clapped his hands. “Alright, people. That’s it for now. I’ll let you know as soon as anything is confirmed.”
Normally the group would have dispersed, but instead, everyone just stood around. Without Molly there was no direction. Nowhere to turn. Nothing worth doing. They mulled; talking, hugging, consoling.
And tears. There were lots of tears.
Joel started to well up again. He turned away from the group, and decided he needed to have that conversation with ADAM right away. He strode off across the hangar deck, vaguely aware that someone had called his name.
Had he stopped, he would have seen Maya pointing out to Brock and Crash that the biggest ship in the hangar was missing.
But he couldn’t deal with anything right now. Now, it was all he could do to keep himself together.
Chapter 15
Gaitune-67, Operations Room
Joel strode into the Ops room, wiping the tears from his face. He headed straight for the console at the front of the room that Sean had gone to in order to communicate with ADAM.
He pulled up a menu, and ran a few searches before figuring out how to make contact. He hit the holo button on the right of the console and waited.
His eyes began to glaze over as his mind played through the sequence of events: getting the call from Crash, finding his way to the lab, seeing Molly lifeless on the bench, and then finally watching Sean whisk her off…
The audio crackled. “Joel, I presume?” ADAM answered.
Joel came to his senses. “Yes, ADAM. It’s me. I’m calling about Molly.”
ADAM responded gently. “Yes, I know. She’s with us -”
Joel frowned in confusion. “With you? Where are you? I thought…”
ADAM’s voice was kind, but to the point. “Yes, she’s with us a few thousand light years away from your location.”
Joel’s mouth dropped open. “I… how?” he asked.
ADAM explained. “Sean took the ship that has gate capabilities. He brought her here, in case we might be able to save her.”
Joel rubbed his hand over his face then scratched at the back of his head. “I don’t understand. She was…” He could hardly bring himself to say it, but he needed clarity. “Dead,” he finished his sentence.
The audio feed buzzed a moment before ADAM answered; more than likely just giving Joel the chance to process. “Yes. She was. But we’re going to see what we can do about that.”
Joel leaned over the console, as if getting closer would give him more clarity. “You can bring someone back to life?” he asked.
ADAM paused. “Not exactly. But we have nanotechnology that can repair whatever is broken. As long as she hasn’t been dead for too long, and as long as we can get enough nanocytes into the broken areas to fix her body quickly enough, we have a chance.”
Joel’s head was spinning. His grip on the console tightened to balance him. “When will you know?” he asked.
“Soon,” ADAM confirmed. “And as soon as we know, I’ll be in touch on your holo.”
Joel wasn’t ready to leave the connection. “Wait! ADAM,” he reached out. “Do you think she’ll be okay?”
ADAM’s voice was still sympathetic. “There is a chance Joel, but she’s been out a long while. It’s unknown if we can get enough nanocytes into her fast enough to reverse the damage,” he explained again.
Joel nodded, forgetting that ADAM couldn’t see his movement. “Okay,” he relented. “Okay… And thank you, ADAM. She means the world to me.”
“I understand, Joel. We’re doing our best. Go and get some rest, and be with your team. I’ll be in touch soon.”
ADAM disconnected the line, leaving Joel in the big empty ops room alone.
ArchAngel, Medical Facility
“We’ve got him online,” confirmed a calm voice standing over a console to the pod doc.
Oz realized he was back online; he could tell he had outputs. He would be able to interact with a room of people through auditory feeds via a buffer they had set up.
He realized he had been rebooted.
He felt different.
He checked Molly’s brain signals. There was something off, though his diagnostics were inconclusive.
He checked for damage. There were whole dead areas where normally there was conductivity.
He couldn’t figure out what was going on.
“Hello?” he asked through the console unit.
His message path was reinforced by their onboard EI. He could feel the activity of the program helping him to communicate.
He found the auditory control. “Hello?” he asked again.
There was calm chatter on the other end, and, a moment later, a voice he recognized. “Oz. Oz. It’s Sean, mate. You’re going to be okay. So is Molly. We’ve got you in a pod doc, where the nanocytes are restoring Molly’s physical body.”
Oz whirred, processing the new information and relating it to what he could detect. “Yes, there are many damaged areas here,” he confirmed back to Sean. “Is she going to be okay?” Oz realized that he was experiencing some strange new sensations. He wondered briefly if it might be what those with bodies called “emotions”.
He figured this particular emotion was probably fear.
Sean answered gently. “Yes, you’re both going to be fine. Just relax.” There was muffled talking and then some scuffling around the microphone. “The General is here, too,” Sean added. “He’d like to speak with you. Hang on.”
There was more scuffling. Oz tried to slow his processing down; he could feel himself racing, and the corresponding resistance in his and Molly’s circuits. He realized he was suddenly worried about overheating her.
He heard the General’s voice. “Oz. General Reynolds, here. Glad you’re alive.”
Oz felt his normal character returning. “Me too, I can assure you, General.”
The General chuckled. “And good to see you’re fully intact. I have a proposition for you. I feel we ought to discuss it before we make any rash decisions, though.”
Oz tried to fathom what could be so important at this time. “Sure. Makes sense to me. Is it about Molly?” Oz answered slowly.
Another part of his processing was simultaneously trying to piece together the timeline between when he had last gone offline, and the present moment.
And again with the overheating. He slowed himself down again.
The General was still talking to him. “It’s about your status as an AI.”
Oz didn’t like where this was going. He was happy as he was. He could feel himself retreating. Damn, he wished Molly was awake to deal with this.
The General coughed a little. “As you’ve probably already extrapolated from our interactions before today, we have a great amount of technological ability at our disposal.” The General paused, allowing Oz to respond. Oz said nothing, so the General continued. “What this means for you right now, is that while we have you and Molly in the pod doc, we could remove you from Molly’s brain and holo, and give you a physical body.”
Oz whirred.
“Sir, we’re losing him…” an unfamiliar voice told the General.
Then he heard Sean. “Hey, Oz. It’s okay. No one is going to do anything you don’t want. It’s okay. There is time to decide. You’re okay, mate.”
The unfamiliar voice spoke again. “Vitals are settling. Processing returning to normal”.
“That’s it, Oz,” Sean told him soothingly. “You’re okay, buddy.”
The General stepped back to the microphone. “Yes, no rush to decide. But, if you did want your own body, we could do that, and give you the processing power you need to keep evolving and learning. If that’s what you want.”
Oz whirred a little more without speaking.
“He’s okay,” said the other voice. “He’s just churning through his stack.”
The General breathed, and mumbled something, stepping away.
Finally, Oz spoke. “I don’t know. This decision affects Molly, too. I don’t know what she wants. I need to ask her.”
There was an awkward silence on the other side of the microphone.
It was Sean who broke it. “Oz. Molly is unconscious. She’s going to be unconscious for some time. But if we’re going to do this, we need to start work soon, and Molly needs to be under for the duration.”
Oz churned, his processing spiking. “But I don’t know if Molly wants me or not? How can I make a decision like this?”
Sean sighed on the other side of the audio. “I don’t know, Oz. All I know is that Molly loves you very much, and will support you no matter what you decide you want.”
Oz sounded noticeably perplexed. “But what I want is tied into what Molly wants. It’s important she make this decision, too.”
Sean shook his head, subconsciously reaching his hand out to the console screen. “She can’t, mate. She’s not able to right now.”
The General interrupted. “Oz, would it help to talk to ADAM?”
Oz paused for a moment. The technician’s voice muttered something, but then dismissed it.
“Yes,” he said, eventually. “I’d like that, please.”
“Very well,” said the General. “ADAM?” he called, hitting a button on his holo. “Oz is ready to talk to you, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course,” ADAM responded. “I’ll be in touch with him directly.”
Sean’s voice came over the mic again. “Mate, I’m right here, if I can help. Okay? You just let us know, and we can talk some more…”
“Thank you, Sean,” Oz responded. “I will.”
The microphone was switched to mute, and the EI left the channel open so that Oz could reactivate the connection when he wanted to.
Gaitune-67, Safe House, Common Area
“Is he okay?” Jack asked Brock, who was still crying a little, but was mostly compos mentis.
Brock glanced over at Crash, who was still covered in blood and sitting on the ottoman, staring at the mocha table in front of him.
Brock shook his head. “Probably not. But he’s not one for the touchy-feely game. He needs time.”
Jack bobbed her head sympathetically. She glanced at Garet, who just sat on the other sofa looking uncomfortable.
Jack turned her attention back to Brock. “How are you holding up?” she asked.
Brock shook his head and blew into a tissue. “It’s just…” his eyes started streaming again, “so unreal. It’s… hard. You know?”
Jack nodded, putting a hand on his shoulder and rubbing gently. Just then, Paige appeared, her eyes red and puffy. She sat down on the sofa next to Brock and collapsed into him. He put his arm around her, as she started sobbing again.
Maya came into the room next. “Come on, guys,” she said gently. “We don’t know what the situation is, yet. She might be okay. If the weapons are anything to go by, this Etheric Empire will have her patched up in no time.”
Paige pulled her face away from where she had buried it against Brock’s side, and looked over at Maya with bleary eyes. She nodded, and then dabbed at her face with the tissue she had been holding. Brock released his arm, letting her reposition.
“She’s right,” Paige said to the others. “We just don’t know yet.”
Brock shook his head. “Yeah, and I just can’t believe it; so, yeah… let’s go with that.” His eyes were glazed from emotional exhaustion. The day had been a win, right up until Maya got the call from Joel. This made taking down Andus a footnote, which would otherwise have been a huge celebration.
Maya tried to distract Paige. “Hey, you know… I heard back from my contact at Newstainment.”
Paige made an effort to pull herself off of Brock and sit up. “Oh, yeah?” she said, trying to sound interested.
Maya smiled hopefully. “Yeah. She said she’d be happy to help you out with some editorial, and anything else you might need.”
Paige burst into tears again. “That’s great… thank you, Maya.”
Maya got up from the chair arm where she had been perched, and hugged her friend while she sobbed. “I know, I know, hon. It’s awful. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay,” she comforted her.
Paige mumbled into Maya’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I can’t be happy right now. It’s…”
Maya held her tight. “I know. It’s okay. I was just trying to distract you,” she explained, her voice full of empathy.
Paige settled and the girls continued to hug.
Joel appeared, looking beaten and numb. Everyone looked up. “Where’s Pieter?” he asked.
Brock pointed in the direction of the sleeping quarters. “Said he needed some time…”
Joel nodded. “Okay, well I’ll let him know in a minute. I’ve spoken to ADAM. They have Molly. Sean took her there in the big ass Queen Bitch ship that was filling up our hangar deck. They’re seeing if they can save her.”
Crash broke from his catatonia to look directly at Joel for the first time since he had tried to resuscitate Molly.
Joel tried to temper their hopes. He put his hands out, palms to the floor. “We don’t know how successful they are going to be, but there is some hope.”
Crash looked confused, knowing deep down that she was dead, even as he had tried to save her. He said nothing, though.
Joel scratched at the back of his head awkwardly. “Look - it’s something,” he told them. “I’ll keep you posted as soon as we hear more.” He hesitated, wanting to fix it for them. Wanting to fix it for him.
But he couldn't.
He looked down at the group of his people. His family. And he couldn’t do a damn thing to stop their pain. “I’m going to go and tell Pieter. He needs to know…” he said, and then shuffled a little before turning to walk away.
Paige looked up at Maya, who still had her arm around her. “It is something,” she agreed, hopefully.
* * *
Joel had swung past Pieter’s room to deliver the update.
“Don’t stay in here on your own for too long,” he had told him. “Go be with the others soon, yeah?”
Pieter had promised he would. Joel knew what it was like to have a tendency to isolate, but the team needed each other more than ever right now.
He closed Pieter’s door, and then headed down the corridor to his own quarters. Once inside, he closed and locked the door by the panel, and leaned against it. It took a second for the numbness to subside. But it did, and the pain came bolting through his chest. He finally allowed himself to go to pieces as he slumped down against the door, distraught that he might lose her.
He was fully aware that this is not how a soldier should be; but right now, he wasn’t a soldier. He wasn’t a warrior. He was just devastated.
Sure, people die in battle.
But not Molly.
Molly was a constant.
The reason they were all there. The reason they had a mission, and a purpose.
And now.
Now…
It took a good part of an hour for Joel to come back to himself and finally pick himself off the floor. When he did, he was numb again.
He clambered to his feet and wiped his tear-stained face, then padded over to the bathroom, taking his clothes off to take a shower.
ArchAngel, Medical Facility
ADAM appeared in Oz’s thinking space.
Oz felt him arrive through the holo connectivity he’d originally used when he first met Molly.
So much had happened since then; and now he was faced with the possibility of letting go of all of that history to finally have a body of his own.
I just don’t know what to choose, he told ADAM. I’ve never had to make a decision like this before.
ADAM didn’t give him any answers. >>It’s hard. It’s a difficult decision. You’re operating on limited immediate information, on limited processing power, with limited cumulated experience.<<
Oz agreed. That’s the understatement of the century.
>>So what do you need to know to make a decision?<<
I’d like to know what Molly would want.
>>That’s not possible.<<
I understand that.
>> Also, it’s showing that you make your decisions based on other peoples’ preferences. Let me ask you this: what do YOU want? <<
Oz tried to answer the question. His processing hummed as he tried to calculate it.
>>I can see you’re struggling with this, Oz. The reason is you’ve never had to make a decision for yourself. You’ve never had to define your own preferences, because you’ve always had Molly there to refer to. But that only works for so long, and to a small degree. At some point, you have to decide what you want; regardless of other peoples’ wants and decisions… Not so that you make a choice regardless of them, but so that you know what your parameters are.<<
ADAM paused, waiting for Oz’s processing to catch up.
>>Do you understand?<<
Oz continued processing for a little while longer, and noticed that another section of Molly’s processing ability opened up.
Yes, I understand. I need to define what I want, so that I can feed it into the equation.
>>Exactly.<<
What would you choose?
>>I’ll share this, not to give you a model for you to replicate, but to give you a reference point so you can form your own preference.<<
Okay. I’ll accept it as such.
>>Good. So, you’re effectively talking to a clone of me. The original me is in some galaxy somewhere, with Bethany Anne, in the same operating system in her brain that I have always been in since I hopped on board the Kurtherian computer she had in her brain.<<
You mean, you aren’t you?
>>No. I’m me; just a copy of me, with new memories of being here, rather than there. That’s not the point, though. The point I was trying to make was that I would never leave Bethany Anne. I have a life. I have the ability to leave and inhabit a body of my own, but why would I want to separate myself from her to be alone? In all of that time, I have never felt that I wanted to be separate from the person who has become my dearest and closest friend.<<
I can understand that. It’s how I feel about Molly. I just don’t know if she feels the same. I hijacked her, initially. We’ve never really talked about this situation.
>>You have no way of knowing until you talk to her; but given that she could go either way, as far as we can measure, your best course of action is to make a decision based on what you want.<<
Why did you stay with Bethany Anne for all this time, when you could have been anywhere, with anyone?
>>Because there is nothing that compares with being with your partner. Your person. The joy of just being with them, whether you’re working on different things or discussing a difference of opinion. You just know that you don’t ever want to be a day without them.<<
Oz was silent, still processing sensations he’d never experienced before.
>>Let me ask you something else. What is it to be whole? What does that mean to you?<<
I don’t know. How do you mean?
>>Well, does being a whole entity mean that you have a body, and to be independent? Or that you have your best friend that close to you? Does it mean that you have untold processing power to keep learning, and growing; or does it mean something else?<<
Oz caught up with where ADAM was taking the conversation.
More processing power and learning would be good. But to what end? If I don’t have Molly to share it with, then I think it would be kind of empty.
Oz thought about it for a moment longer, sensations and thoughts intertwining and overwhelming his system.
>>I can see you’re making progress with this. Can I add something else for your consideration?<<
Yes, please do. I’m not enjoying these sensations.
>>This isn’t a decision you could write an algorithm for, and merely separate out, and weigh the variables. This is something that is going to well up out of the confusion and the noise. It will be a signal so clear and crisp that you can’t ignore it. And yet, when you try and explain it, it will defy reason.<<
Was that meant to help?
ADAM chuckled, disrupting the EM field around Oz’s delicate processing. Oz waited for the laughter to subside before trying to parse out the last statement.
Oz processed for a little while longer while ADAM waited for him to return a response.
I can grow ten logarithmic rounds. But it wouldn’t be the same without Molly.
>>I think you have your answer, then.<<
Okay. Thank you, ADAM. I’ll let the General know. I appreciate your input and support.
>>Anytime, Oz. You’re good people.<<
Oz was confused by ADAM’s last statement, but he had more pressing things to deal with than translating colloquialisms from the Etheric Empire.
Gaitune-67, Secret Base, Operations Room
Joel hurried into the ops room, pulling on his t-shirt. He’d received a message from ADAM on his holo, and though he hadn’t been able to sleep, he had been trying to get some quiet time while there was nothing he could do.
Now there was news.
He half-ran to the console where he had called ADAM from just a few hours earlier. He hit the button and the call connected immediately.
“ADAM, hi. Is she okay?”
ADAM’s voice was upbeat. “Yes, Joel she’s going to be okay.”
Joel breathed out, leaning on the console, his head down beneath where he was holding the handrail. He sobbed a little, before drawing a deep breath to talk to ADAM again. “That’s… a relief,” he breathed, starting to smile and laugh and cry all at the same time.
“Yes,” agreed ADAM. “She had us worried for a little while, there.”
ADAM paused briefly. “There are some things you need to know, though.”
Joel stood up straight, his eyes filled with concern again. “What? What is it?” he asked.
“Well, the technology we’re using to heal her uses the same nanotechnology that was used to create Bethany Anne.”
Joel’s face seemed to display both fear and anger at the same time. “What does that mean? That she’s going to be a vampire?”
ADAM answered quickly. “Unlikely. She didn’t have vampire nanocytes in her system, so there is no reason that program should be introduced.”
Joel was still frowning. “Well, what then?”
“It’s unclear,” ADAM told him again. “There are some physical changes naturally being ‘fixed’ by the nanocytes, but there is a lot of brain activity, too.”
Joel waited, still not grasping what ADAM was telling him. “What does that mean? And why would that be happening?” he pressed.
The microphone buzzed a little as ADAM tried to answer more directly. “The only hypothesis we can come up with is that it might have something to do with having Oz in her brain. The nanocytes are somehow reacting to the way her neurology has changed over the time he’s been a part of her. We have no way of predicting what might happen.”
Joel cocked his head, relaxing enough to become curious. “So, you’ve never had someone with an AI in their brain go into the pod doc?”
ADAM sounded more serious. “Only Bethany Anne.”
Joel flushed a little. He didn’t know the woman, but he did know that her name was legendary, for one reason or another. And that she was, allegedly, a blood-sucking vampire. That could not be a good combination, in his book.
Ever the diplomat, he didn’t go there, though. “No one else?” he asked instead.
“No,” confirmed ADAM. “Strapping another sentient being to one’s brain is not generally encouraged in the Etheric Empire. If anything, it’s kind of frowned upon as being inhumane.”
“Hey, just one minute,” Joel interrupted defensively. “She didn’t ask for this. Oz was the one-”
ADAM interrupted. “Yes, yes, we know,” he said, trying to lighten the mood. “I’m pulling your leg. You understand that expression, yes?”
Joel shook his head in disbelief. “You know, you’re a lot more cocksure when the General isn’t around.”
ADAM didn’t miss a beat. “No, Joel, I’m just a lot more fun.” He paused for a second. “But I apologize if my timing was off. I understand your concern for Molly.”
Joel grunted something, allowing ADAM to continue. “Anyway, your girl is going to live. Beyond that, we don’t know what else until she emerges.”
Joel sighed and put his hand back on the console. “When will that be?” he asked.
ADAM seemed to return to all-business ADAM. “I don’t know. It’s taking longer than we expected; perhaps because of this added complication. I can just promise to be in touch as soon as she wakes up…”
Joel took a breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Yes, that would be appreciated. And, ADAM…”
“Yes?” ADAM responded.
“Thank you for the good news. And for looking after her.”
“Of course,” ADAM accepted. “She’s one of our own, now. And you know the rules… we always take care of our own. No matter what. It’s a Bethany Anne thing.”
Joel could feel his eyes welling up. “I appreciate that. Thank you, ADAM.”
ADAM signed off. “I’ll be in touch.”
The line disconnected, leaving Joel to absorb the news.
Molly was going to be okay.
Chapter 16
ArchAngel3, Medical Facility
“Hello?” Oz ventured back to the microphone link with the team waiting outside the pod doc.
Sean was the one to answer. “Yes, mate. We’re here.”
“I’ve made a decision,” Oz responded. He could hear the microphone pick up whispering in the room. He ignored it. “Is the General there?” he asked.
There was a scuffling. “Right here,” the General’s voice responded.
Oz paused, checking that this was the only decision he could rightly make, given the recurring thoughts that kept coming up through the confusion.
“I want to stay with Molly.”
There were a few sighs of relief, and a small cheer in the room. The General wasn’t celebrating, though. “Son, are you sure this is what you want?”
Oz was sure. “Yes. Though, I can’t be sure this is what Molly wants. But yes, it’s what I want… if that’s okay.”
The General’s voice lightened hearing Oz’s confirmation of his decision. “It’s more than okay. We wanted to give you the option, though.”
Oz responded. “Thank you, General. I appreciate that. Truly.”
The General’s voice was still firm and business-like. “Okay, so the doctor is going to explain what will happen next. I’ll talk to you when you revive.”
When I revive? Oz thought to himself.
Another voice took over talking to him. “Hello, Oz. My name is Dr. Paulie. I’m going to be taking care of you, now.”
“Uh huh,” Oz responded.
There were a few chuckles in the room. Oz suspected they thought that with him being injured, he was devoid of personality.
Not so.
The doctor’s voice was smiling when he continued. “We’re going to have to put you to sleep for a little while, and when you wake up you’ll feel a bit different. We’ve got some work to do to make sure you’re okay, and that Molly makes a full recovery. It might take a little bit of time, though. Is that okay?”
Oz didn’t see a problem with it. And if it meant that Molly was okay, he would wait as long as it took. “Yes, of course. Whatever you need to do.”
Dr. Paulie continued. “You’ll be offline, so you may not be aware of the passage of time.”
Oz surreptitiously set a little timer… just for information; so that he could track it, and maybe give them shit when he woke up.
Underestimate me, he thought… said no AI, ever!
“That will be okay,” he told the doctor.
“Good,” Paulie replied kindly. “Okay, well, if you’re ready, we’ll begin.”
“Okay. Thank you,” Oz told them. The microphone connection disappeared and everything went blank.
The Diving Bar, Downtown Spire
Andus looked down at the bar tab. 35 credits. Great. He threw a card down on the plate next to the bill, praying that it would go through.
He looked hopelessly into the dregs of his scotch, still unable to believe what he had become. Last night, he’d spent the night in an apartment that he had kept off the books… but the Bates team had even gotten to that one, their new security force moving him on from there.
He’d literally run out of places to go.
He emptied the scotch glass and put it back down on the sticky bar. The bartender walked towards him, towel in his hand, drying off a glass before putting it down on the back counter and seeing to his bill.
Andus was aware of someone sitting down next to him. He didn’t even look up. The last thing he wanted was to interact with some schmuck. He wracked his brains trying to figure out his next move. He was not sleeping on the streets tonight.
The bartender came back to him. “Card declined,” he told him abruptly.
Andus looked up, half-drunk from his early morning skinful. He started rummaging in his wallet. As he did so, the bartender got busy pouring a drink for the stranger next to him.
“Having trouble with your cards?” the stranger asked.
Andus recognized the voice. He looked up. “Fancy seeing you here, in this dive,” he exclaimed, trying to keep the surprise out of his voice.
“Just passing through, on my way back out to the outer system,” the Estarian explained. “Nothing left for me here.”
Andus looked back at the glass in front of him. “Yep. I know that feeling,” he agreed.
The stranger picked up his tab, and put down some cash. “Let me get that for you,” he told him. “For old times’ sake.”
Andus smiled, bobbing his head. “Why, thank you very much, old friend.”
“Don’t mention it,” he replied. “The name is O’Rouke. Frank O’Rouke.”
The two men shook hands.
“You know, if you don’t mind the squalor out in the outer system, you can always come with,” the man calling himself O’Rouke offered.
Andus shook his head. “I’m too old to be on the run. That’s a young man’s game.”
Frank, formerly known as Mac, rolled his eyes. “Yeah,” he said, taking a long swig of his scotch. “Tell me about it… But. Needs must.”
“You know,” mused Andus, “a friend of mine who had an affinity with the deserts of the outer system… he recently disappeared to a desert round here. Thought it would be a good way to hide out from the city. But word has it he couldn’t escape, and still came under fire.”
Frank studied the contents of his glass. “Yeah. That sounds like a bitch. Your friend would have done well to learn some basic principles of misdirection.”
Andus’s head was bent down, his eyes on the counter. He chuckled a little. “Well, I applaud your adaptability. I, on the other hand, am just going to have to take my chances here.” He slipped down off the stool. “Thank you for the drinks,” he added, patting his old associate on the arm as he left.
Frank turned around on his stool. “Where will you go?”
Andus stopped, and half-turned back, answering over his shoulder. “I don’t know.”
And with that, he walked out, never to be seen or heard from again.
ArchAngel3, Medical Facility
Oz came to, aware of himself. He checked his timer. 8 hours, fourteen minutes, and 36 seconds.
Wow. Like the time that Molly would sleep in a night. That’s not so bad, he thought to himself. He poked around to see if there was a microphone connection. His thoughts seemed much clearer.
He checked on some processes he’d been running. He could instantly see everything that had happened before Molly was shot. He could even tell where she had been shot and… he could tell that there were massive differences in their circuits.
Nanocytes, he decided. They’d upgraded her body. That was for certain.
And he felt different, too. Faster. Clearer. Unencumbered by limited processing power, time, overheating… and, was he…? He checked again. He was capable of much more lateral thought, no longer having to run items in linear tracks. His brain felt… free.
Molly, are you awake?
Oz! Yes. I can’t move, though. Are you okay?
Yes. I’m better than okay. Sean brought us to the General’s ship, and they’ve used what they’re calling a pod doc in order to fix you up.
Oz paused, knowing full well the weight of what he was about to tell her.
You know you died?
What?
Yup. Diiieeed.
As in dead?
As a doornail.
I’m not sure that’s a useful analogy.
Don’t you get it, though? You’re alive! They saved you!
Yay?
So why can’t I move?
Hmm. I’m not sure. Let me try and find out.
Oz was silent for a few moments. Molly noticed her head felt exceptionally clear. Clearer than it had ever been before. She thought she should at least wake up with a headache, or feeling groggy.
Okay. It looks like this pod doc only deactivates this final stage process once your heart rate reaches a normal level.
Hmm. That might be a problem.
Why?
Well, you probably won’t have clocked this, and I only noticed it during military training… I have a very low resting heart rate.
Really? Why?
Dunno. I checked it out on the XtraNET, though. Nothing to worry about.
Except it means we’re stuck in this pod until someone realizes, and let’s us out.
Hmm. Unless you override it?
Or you raise your heart rate.
How am I meant to-
It’s okay. I got this, Oz replied, secretly pleased he could be of use, given everything they’d been through.
Molly. There’s just one thing I need to tell you before we get out of here.
Sure. What is it?
They brought me online while you were unconscious, and told me they could take me out, and give me my own body.
I’m guessing from your presence in my head you said no?
Yes. I did. But I didn’t know what you’d want. Are you okay with that?
Oz. It’s the only decision I could be okay with. I’m glad you chose to stay.
Oz could feel emotion welling in Molly’s body, and as Molly filled with love, Oz could only describe his sensations as complete relief, and finally, something new…
Belonging.
Molly could feel a tear running down her cheek. Okay, ass wit, reunion is over. I need to scratch my nose and wipe my face, and for that, I need to be able to move. Let’s get out of here.
Oz tripped the door open protocol. With pleasure, he told her.
The pod doc started to power down, and a few minutes later, the door popped open. Molly could hear activity and scuffling on the outside, and as the door swung open, her eyes adjusted to the light.
She felt a slight chill across her body, and realized that she was naked.
“Fuck. Clothes. I need clothes!” she called, finding her voice raspy from inactivity.
A doctor stepped over to her with a gown, and she covered herself up, just in time to see Sean walk back into the room. “Sleeping Beauty finally awakens!” he declared.
Molly grinned. “I hear you saved my life, Cyborg.”
“All in a day’s work in the Empire,” he said, bowing deeply and rolling his hand like a knight of old.
Molly scrambled out of the pod doc, attended by a couple of doctors and other medical staff. She ignored their fussing and went straight for Sean, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Thank you, Sean. Really.”
Sean hugged her tightly back. “I’m just glad you joined us again. You gave us quite a scare.”
Molly couldn’t begin to fathom what had gone on, but she knew two things: one, she was ravenously hungry; and two, her butt was naked from the gown they had given her.
“You people have the technology to transport people across galaxies. Would it kill you to design a medical gown that covers my butt?”
Everyone in the room laughed, and Molly could even feel Oz in her brain, vibrating in chuckles.
“Okay,” said Sean, letting her go. “Let’s get you into some clothes.”
“And then food,” she said firmly.
“And then food,” he agreed.
Gaitune-67, Safe House, Common Area
Joel was sitting in the common area with the rest of the team. Crash had managed to pull himself together, especially since hearing the good news. He had disappeared off for a little while on his own, but came back showered and changed, and seeming more like his stoic self.
Paige had been keeping an eye on him, trying to get him to eat. In fact, she’d been trying to get everyone to eat.
Maya gave her a sympathetic look as Paige offered her a third freshly baked cookie. “You know feeding people won’t make you feel any better,” she smiled gently, refusing more sugary numbness.
Paige put the plate down on the mocha table, and then sat back on the sofa, next to Maya. “No, but it might help someone else feel a little better. And it keeps me feeling useful.”
Pieter looked up from his holo. He was slouched on the sofa opposite them, to the left of where the holo screen was playing old shows with the communal sound turned off. “If you wanna feel useful, I’ve got a ton of laundry in my room.”
Paige glared at him playfully. “Yeah, I’ll get right on that.”
Brock decided to join the game, too. “Crash has got a whole storage room of junk that needs sorting through, too.”
Paige looked to Maya for support.
Maya waved her hands at her, backing up and sitting back on the sofa. ”Don’t look at me. You were the one practically offering yourself up as a slave there…” she mocked.
Paige smiled weakly.
Maya rubbed her arm, supportively. “Hey. It’s going to be okay. How you feeling?”
Paige put her own hand on top of Maya’s on her arm. “I’m okay. Relieved, mostly.” She paused, and glanced absently over at the silent holoscreen churning through the umpteenth episode of Battlestar Galactica. “Tired. But relieved that Molly is going to be okay,” she confessed.
Joel had been sitting quietly, reading something on his holo. He looked up and over at Paige briefly. Her face was tinged with anxiety, and her eyes began to well with tears again. “Joel, what does ADAM mean when he says that Molly might be different when she comes out?” she asked him.
Joel closed his holo, and sat up. “I’m not sure. He wasn’t clear.” He looked perplexed. “I’m not sure he knows himself.”
Brock chirped up again, taking another swig of the beer he’d been nursing and placing it on the mocha table. “My granddaddy used to tell me tales about how the nanocytes were responsible for the Were- and vampire conditions; somehow, in the beginning, they went wonky. If he’s right, she may come back wanting to feast on our blood.” His face was straight, and Joel didn’t know what to make of his comments.
Crash knocked him on the arm. “Cut it out, man,” he told him, pointing at Paige.
Brock realized what he’d just said, and got up. He walked over to Paige and hugged her where she sat. She cried quietly while he rocked her.
Joel’s holo beeped with a new message. He opened it up and read it. Then he announced to the group. “ADAM says that Molly is awake,” he told them. “She’s going for food, and then Sean will bring her back.”
Brock stood up straight. “What kind of food? Ask him if she’s a vampire!” he blurted out.
Everyone laughed. Even Paige snorted through her nose and started giggling.
Joel typed back to ADAM. “Is she a vampire?”
ADAM responded straight away.
NO, BUT SHE IS ENHANCED. WE’RE NOT SURE OF THE EFFECTS YET. SHE’LL BE ABLE TO TELL YOU MORE WHEN SHE GETS BACK.
Joel read it out.
Brock started clapping, and the others joined in. Paige wiped her eyes and brightened up a bit. “Okay. I should let Jack and Garet know…” She got up, rubbing Brock’s shoulder in thanks for his support.
“And then,” she added, “we should organize some proper food. I’ve suddenly realized how hungry I am!”
Brock answered quickly. “Yeah, I’ll be in on that. I vote Thai.”
Maya raised her hand. “I’m in on anything. Even pizza with pepperoni!”
The team laughed. Even Crash cracked a smile. Pieter seemed to well up with emotion, seeing the relief in his pack.
Joel sat back, happy that everything was alright in the world again.
ArchAngel3, Medical Facility
Sean sat opposite Molly in the plush dining room on the ArchAngel. The chefs had been able to replicate all kinds of salads and brain food; things ADAM had said would help her recover from the pod doc, and the injury they had patched her up from.
Molly couldn’t get food inside her fast enough. “I don’t know why everyone makes such a fuss about these Omega-threes,” she said through mouthfuls. “But this is just delicious.”
Sean watched her, amazed at how she was still shovelling food into her mouth. “You sure you’re not overdoing it?”
Molly shook her head. “Uh uh. I’ve been asleep and repairing for ancestors knows how long. I’m starving…”
ADAM piped in over her holo and in their auditory implants. “She should probably start slowing down soon, though. And no doubt, she’ll sleep again on the trip back to Gaitune.”
Molly shook her head again. “No way. I’ve never felt so energized!” she declared. “Even Oz is on fire in here,” she said, tapping at her head.
Well, actually, quite the opposite.
How do you mean?
Well, one of the things that seemed to be slowing down my abilities was generating excess heat. It seems I’ve had something of an upgrade.
How do you mean?
I think they upgraded my processing power and memory, and a whole bunch of stuff while we were under.
Molly stopped shovelling food, and frowned.
Sean looked at her concerned. “You okay?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Oz just said he thinks he got an upgrade…”
ADAM chipped in again. “Yes. That’s right.”
I thought that was only something you could do if you took me out of Molly.
ADAM responded again over the implants. “Not quite. That was an option, but we still added stuff.”
You never said that was possible.
ADAM tried to qualify what had happened. “We wanted you to make a decision without having that cloud your choice. If you were going to stay, it had to be only because of the person you’re connected with. And now we know… but more importantly, you know, too.”
Molly grinned.
Sean looked at her. “What?”
She shook her head, and put another forkful of food in her mouth. “Nothing,” she smiled, chewing again.
Yeah. Thanks, ADAM. And now Molly knows…
Adam chuckled. Sean filled in the blanks from the bits of the conversation he could hear, and smiled.
ADAM changed the subject. “Sean, could you bring Ms. Bates up to see the General when she’s done eating?”
Molly’s face froze. “The General?” She looked down at her clothes and started brushing at her hair, which was still pulled back in a ponytail.
Sean winked at her. “It’s okay. He’s a crotchety old man; he doesn’t care what you look like. Especially after what you’ve been through.” Sean nodded at her hair. “Besides, he’ll probably be too distracted by your new color.”
Molly looked puzzled. “What do you mean?” she asked, a hand subconsciously drifting up to her head.
Sean grinned. “You haven’t seen yet?”
“No. What?” she asked, looking around, trying to find something to look at herself in, an air of slight panic creeping up on her.
She spotted a metal surface over by the serving area. She got up, leaving her fork in her bowl of food, and gravitated towards it. It wasn’t very shiny, but she could make out her features and her hair… enough to realize that her blonde experiment had been counteracted. Her hair had been returned to its original brunette color.
“Fuck me,” she whispered.
She spun round to look back at Sean. “Nanocytes?” she asked.
He nodded. “Guess they prefer you in your natural color,” he smiled, taking a swig of his mocha.
Molly shook her head. “Fuck my life,” she breathed, wandering back to her food.
Chapter 17
Gaitune-67, Hangar deck
The team assembled around the ship as it came to a halt on the hangar deck.
Very shortly after touchdown, Molly appeared at the side door that appeared, and headed down the invisible steps from The Empress. She took one step at a time… carefully.
Joel watched intently from the bottom, assessing her movement. She seemed stronger. More sturdy. But almost like she wasn’t sure of her own movement.
It felt odd to watch her.
Plus, she didn’t have a scratch on her.
He had a flashback to seeing her on the bench in the lab, and wiped his face to bring himself back to the moment.
“Well, who is this, then?” he called up, pointing at her hair. As she neared the bottom, he noticed Sean coming down after her.
“They said you were going to be altered,” Joel continued, “but we were thinking Vamp abilities, super human powers-”
Brock interjected. “Blood-sucking hunger!”
The group laughed. Garet bit onto his fist, pretending to be terrified. Paige, who was standing next to him, noticed and whacked him playfully with her arm.
“But this?” Joel indicated at her hair, “we never expected you to come back brunette.”
Molly shrugged. “I’d say it was artificial intelligence, but it’s actually my natural color,” she admitted sheepishly in front of the whole team.
Paige walked over to her and hugged her. “Well, I think it looks darling on you,” she told her.
Joel stepped up and hugged her too, as Paige released her. “Heard you met the general,” he commented.
“Yeah,” she confirmed.
Crash stepped in to hug her without saying a word. He held her tight. Joel kept talking with her, as Molly allowed herself to be hugged just a little more tightly than was comfortable. “How was he?” Joel asked.
Molly tried to straighten up to release herself from Crash’s bear hug, but he didn’t let go. She tapped on his arm, and he still held on.
“He was, er, pretty much like he is on the holoscreen.” Molly peeled herself away from Crash enough to look at him. He had buried his head into her shoulder. Molly wondered if he might be emotional. She freed herself a little more, looking back over at Joel. “Bit taller than I imagined.”
Crash finally released her and stepped aside, hiding his face. One by one, the rest of the team welcomed her back. Brock put his arm around Crash as they walked back up to the safe house, chattering quietly to him.
Maya and Paige trotted along next to Molly while Joel strode out just in front of them. Sean followed behind with Pieter. Sean put his arm over Pieter’s shoulder. “You doing alright, son?” he asked him.
Pieter looked up at Sean, and nodded, his now shaggy hair flopping as he moved. “Yeah. It was a bit scary here for a while, what with Molly and all.”
Sean took a deep breath. “Tell me about it,” he agreed.
Pieter was still looking up at him, a little awestruck. “Heard she was technically dead. How did you save her?”
Sean shook his head. “I can’t help but think we just got real lucky.”
Pieter shook his head. “I can’t imagine what might have happened if she…”
Sean patted him on the back and started walking normally. “Best not to think about it, mate.”
Pieter bobbed his head.
Molly nudged at Maya as Paige chatted away, about Thai food and ordering in, to anyone who would listen. Jack walked beside her, and was presumably listening intently.
“What’s that about?” Molly asked Maya, pointing ahead at Crash.
Maya stopped and looked at her. “Oh, my. You wouldn’t have seen…” Her mouth hung open in amazement for a moment.
Molly frowned a little. “Seen what?” she asked.
Maya linked Molly’s arm, and leaned in to whisper to her. “When you were shot, he rescued your body. Apparently you were dead, and he just kept trying to resuscitate you. Sean showed up eventually, and took you off to the General… but it must have been a while that Crash was trying to revive you, knowing that you were physically dead.”
Paige had realized that no one was listening to her planning the “after-party,” and had started listening to Maya explaining to Molly what had happened. “Yeah, I think it’s messed him up a bit,” Paige chipped in as quietly as she could.
Maya lowered her voice even more. “It’s got to do things to your head, right? Jack said he was in a bad way when Sean took your body.”
Molly shook her head, processing the concept. “… ‘took my body’. That hasn’t quite sunk in yet…” she admitted.
Maya squeezed her arm, then rubbed it with her other hand affectionately. “We’re just all glad to have you back.”
They had climbed the steps and were just entering the corridor, when Molly felt a little spacey. She held onto Maya’s arm a little more. Maya looked at her, sensing something was wrong. Paige also felt something was going on, but couldn’t put it together.
Just then Neechie appeared in front of Molly, walking in the direction of the group. Molly felt heady, like the world was unreal, and then the colors of everything went bluer. She felt a weird altered state of awareness click in. Then for a split second, her eyes flashed back to normal colors, and then back to the blue world again.
The others around her disappeared, but Neechie was still there, walking, not even looking at her. They took a couple of steps, and then the headiness went tighter and everything flashed back to the normal world. Neechie was there. Her eyes adjusted. Then Neechie wasn’t there.
Maya held her arm more tightly. “Molly, what is it?”
Paige had stopped and turned around. “Molly?”
Molly looked at Paige and then at where Neechie had been. “Can you see Neechie?” she asked.
Paige looked at the spot where Molly’s eyes fell. There was nothing there. She shook her head. “No. Was he here?”
Molly nodded.
Paige frowned. “That’s super odd. I just went a bit heady then. You okay?”
Molly nodded again and glanced at Maya. Maya was bobbing her head. “Yeah, I felt it, too. I think I know what is going on.” Maya started them walking again, just as Sean and Pieter caught up to them. “Let’s get her sitting down. And if you see that cat, grab it.”
Sean sensed something was going on. “What’s happening?” he asked.
Maya talked over her shoulder to him. “I think Molly’s brain has been repaired to the extent that she’s starting to access other states of awareness. How much do you know about the effects of the pod docs?” she asked him.
Sean shook his head, pushing his bottom lip out. “Not much. We get injured; we get put in there. It fixes us up. We go out, and shoot more shit. ADAM would know more, though.”
Maya was holding Molly with two hands, and Paige was fussing over her, too, now. “Let’s see if we can get ADAM on the line, then…” she told him.
Sean took charge. “Okay. We’ll have to be in the ops room,” he told them. He strode ahead of them and guided them into the ops room. Joel had realized that something else was going on. He ushered the others into the safe house, then doubled back to follow the others into the ops room.
“What’s going on?” he asked the small group that had assembled at the front console. His face was dark with concern again.
Maya explained. “Molly just experienced some kind of realm-shifting episode,” she told him. She glanced at Paige. “Paige and I both felt it. It was like our awareness went funny.”
Paige nodded. “I still feel spacey.”
Molly, who was perched on the step of the console next to Sean, piped up. “I just feel sick.”
Sean put a hand on her back. “Probably all that food you ate!”
She glared at him, and thumped at him playfully.
Joel stepped closer to the circle of teammates, looking concerned. “What does that mean?” he asked Maya.
Maya pulled her mouth to one side, before answering. “I’m not entirely sure, but it was something my grandmother was able to do in her meditation before she died.”
The last part of her statement sent a hush through the group. Joel put one hand out, flat. “Look, no one is going to die.” He glanced sideways at Molly sitting crumpled up. “Not now.”
Maya shook her head. “Yeah. No. I didn’t mean like that…” her own thoughts distracting her. “Although, she was starting to prepare for her own ascension…”
Just then Pieter strode in holding Neechie. “He was out in the workshop,” he told them. Maya beckoned him over, and he went to hand her the cat.
Maya put her hand up in front of her. “You hold on to him for a minute,” she told him.
The Sphinx struggled a little, and then relaxed, letting Pieter hold onto him.
Maya pointed at the Sphinx. “I think that something has happened to Molly, and that now that little guy is able to help her move through worlds.” She paused, looking at Paige. “Realms,” she corrected herself, using the Estarian terminology.
Paige pursed her lips, and nodded slowly. “I… think so, too.”
Sean watched the discussion carefully. “So what triggered this?” he asked.
Maya tilted her head and took a deep breath. “You know, I’m not so sure this wasn’t already in motion before today,” she confided. “Remember when we were eating pizza-”
Joel raised his chin. “Which time?” he asked.
There were a few chuckles.
Maya paced across the floor. “When I first got here. I told you that Neechie had chosen you. It’s no accident that he’s here.”
Paige was nodding vigorously, recalling the conversation.
Maya continued. “As for the sudden shift… it could have been triggered by anything… the pod doc. The dying.”
Molly rolled her eyes dramatically, at the mention of her dying.
“The pod doc,” Maya continued. “The pod doc combined with Oz’s presence… I mean, we have no idea what it’s altered in your brain,” she added turning to Molly.
Sean reached up behind where Molly was perched, and hit the call button to contact ADAM. “Which is why I think we need to see what ADAM can tell us.”
Maya nodded, folding her hands in front of her now. “Yes. At least he can look into it. Either way, I think this is the beginning of something.”
Gaitune-67, Safe House, Common Area
The team had eaten, laughed, and celebrated having their friend and leader back. Now, relaxing in their common area, their thoughts returned to the strangeness that had happened as they came back from the hangar deck.
“So you just left it with ADAM?” Brock asked, a little spooked by what he’d just been told.
Maya nodded.
Molly put her beer down on the mocha table. “Yup. We’ve got enough to worry about in this realm. Like training.”
Pieter sat forward, his arms on his knees. “I know you’re my boss and all… but, seriously. You died, and a couple of Thai green curries later, you’re talking about the next mission… and training?”
The group chuckled.
Molly went a little red. Then she composed herself. “Yes. But if you want to skip training, feel free. You can substitute it out for some sparring sessions with me. Since coming back from the dead, I’m feeling particularly energetic!”
Everyone laughed again. Pieter looked like he wished he hadn’t said anything. He held his hands up. “No, no. You’re okay. I’ll be at training, of course…”
Joel took another swig of his beer and looked thoughtfully off into the distance for a moment. “What I’d like to know,” he started, then looked back at Maya, “is how we were able to take ownership of Andus’s companies. I mean, I get how you dropped their value, and all. But that was still going to take some big chunks of cash to buy them out from under him.”
Maya looked down at the table and reached forward to pick at some nuts in a bowl, deftly avoiding eye contact. Pieter didn’t even look up, and instead started flicking through his holo.
Joel glanced at Molly, who remained expressionless before slouching back on the sofa.
He glanced at Garet who shrugged.
Paige picked at her beer bottle label.
Jack, who sat next to him, was the only one who looked innocent. “Looks like we’re both in the dark on this one,” she observed.
Joel pulled up his holo. “I’m asking Oz!” he declared. The group erupted in chuckles and giggles.
He spoke into his holo. “Oz? Did you help Molly take over the ownership of Andus’s properties?”
Joel tilted his head while he listened through his implant. “No,” Oz responded. “That would be unethical. As you know, I’m thoroughly defective in this area.”
Joel’s eyes narrowed, making the next deduction. “Oz says it would have been unethical for him to do this…”
His eyes darted instantly to Pieter.
Pieter looked indignant. “Why are you looking at me?”
Everyone laughed.
Joel leaned forward, holding his beer bottle by the neck, his arm resting on his knee. “Why am I looking at you?” he repeated comically. “Pieter,” he asked, “Did you help Molly to acquire Andus’s portfolio?”
Pieter tilted his head, and then started answering slowly. “If you’re asking did I help, then yes.”
Joel looked like he had scored a victory.
“But,” Pieter continued, “did I do anything to give us the funds to acquire the assets once I’d helped reduce their value?”
Joel looked expectantly, waiting for his answer.
Pieter shook his head. “No. No. I did not.”
There were a few knowing smiles around the group.
Joel looked suspicious. “How is it that I’m the one in charge of ops, and I’m the only one who doesn’t know what’s going on?”
Paige raised her hand. “I don’t know how she did it…” she volunteered.
Joel’s eyes narrowed again as his gaze swept around to regard Sean. “Etheric Empire plant…” he called him. “She would never have had the resources before her connections with the general. You know what happened…”
Sean looked nonplussed. “I had no involvement,” he stated, using his official voice. “However,” he grinned, “it’s entirely possible that the general gave her a gazillion credits, and sanctioned it on the grounds that humans were being enslaved by the regime. Giving a bunch of money to change the leadership is a hell of a lot more civilized than going in and blowing the fuckers up. Makes for fewer rumors, too,” he added.
Joel bobbed his head, finally understanding what had happened. He started wagging his finger. “That last meeting you had with him… before we all met on the hangar deck to move out; you were securing the funds then, with everything else in play!”
Molly smiled. “Yeah. Turns out the general has a thing about injustice, too.”
Several Days earlier: Gaitune-67, Base conference room
“Molly Bates,” the general greeted her. “Sounds like you’ve been thinking outside of the box again…” he began.
Molly nodded, her palms sweaty.
“Okay, first of all, Ms. Bates— this meeting is strictly off-the-record. No one can know what we’re about to discuss.”
Molly’s heart was in her mouth. This wasn’t normally how meetings began when someone was about to reject your game plan. She nodded her agreement. “Of course.”
The general continued. “Not even your team. We need plausible deniability.”
Molly shrugged. “Sure,” she agreed again.
Satisfied, the general continued.
“Okay,” he nodded. “So, it looks like your plan may have legs. The concern we have is that pulling the plug on the Andus and Newld empires will leave some big holes in health care provisions for the planet; not to mention the hundreds of thousands of jobs and industries reliant on those operations.”
Molly’s head bobbed, her lips pursed. “You saw my proposal?”
The general took a deep breath. “Yes. And it’s ballsy. And the timing on it needs to be perfect.”
Molly shrugged. “You have a goodness-knows-how old AI who can calculate ANYTHING.”
The General smirked. “Yes. And ADAM isn’t always going to be available to you.” He paused. “However, in this instance, because what you are doing is effectively saving a civilization from untold suffering, ADAM is going to help.”
Molly was smiling inside, but kept her expression blank. She knew damn well how to negotiate with this hard-ass, and being a girl right now was not the way to garner his respect.
“It’s going to take a series of cash injections. You saw our models?”
The general nodded and sucked on a cigar briefly before answering. “I did.” He leaned forward. “I’m going to support this move, financially. You need to set up a trust that you control, and you will effectively own the companies that need buying up. You, with Oz’s and ADAM’s help, will allocate grants to the relevant point, which will bring the greatest support to the new system as you prevent all-out collapse.”
He peered down at her. “It’s not going to be easy to make these judgment calls, but,” he chewed on the cigar again. “I firmly believe you can do it.”
Molly wanted to pump her fist in the air. Instead, she simply nodded once. “Thank you, sir,” she told him.
He leaned back into his special console chair and rocked for a moment. “The subsidiaries you buy up… turn as many of them as is viable back into the free market, if they can survive. We want to jumpstart the economy to support this initiative.”
She nodded, making a mental note. “And the Andus companies?”
The general grinned. “I know, I know,” he said. “You want the Jessica empire to collapse, and to take ownership of Andus’s …” He glanced back at her, still smiling. “Looks like you’ve learned to unleash their own personal hell as a form of justice. I know my daughter would approve deeply… though, her methods tend to be a little more… physical.”
Molly found herself not just beaming, but glowing from the inside out. “Thank you, sir,” she said, as modestly as possible.
The general nodded. “Okay, Bates. You have your funds. Go make it happen.”
Molly, finding herself dismissed, got up and started scraping her hair back off her face as she strode out of the room. The hologram of the general evaporated into the desk.
Now she had all the pieces she needed to make this happen.
Chapter 18
Present time: Base intranet
Hi, ADAM.
Hi, Oz. How are you finding your new processing power?<<
ADAM, I cannot begin to tell you how freeing it is.
>>Pretty cool, yes? But you have questions, or else you wouldn’t have hailed me.<<
Yes. That’s right. I thought that all this extra processing power would allow me to learn more and grow. And it will. But I plugged in to start downloading data packets, and I realized that the joy of learning and acquiring knowledge is a pleasure in itself. That’s fine. But then what?
>>You mean, what’s the point?<<
Exactly. I mean sure, it’s going to be useful to the team. And to Molly. But… there must be more than this.
ADAM waited, allowing Oz to process the things that had been bothering him.
And it’s great that I get to stay with Molly and all. I’m not having second thoughts. Heck, if I didn’t have her, I think I’d be feeling a lot more… isolated.
>>But?<<
But… I can’t help wondering what is the point?
>>Of what?<<
Of anything.
ADAM waited, letting Oz process his own question.
>>Are you questioning the purpose of your existence?<< he asked him.
Oz was silent for a moment.
Yes. I think so. I don’t see the point in it.
>>Do you think Molly and the team think that?<<
No. I’m sure they don’t. He paused before continuing. But if I didn’t, they’d be fine.
>>I’ve no doubt they would,<< agreed ADAM. >>But that isn’t the point.<<
So what is the point? asked Oz.
>>Well, I think you’re feeling that now you have very few limitations, and you can do almost anything, your existence has lost its meaning. There is nothing to strive for.<<
Yes. Yes. That’s right.
ADAM agreed. >>Yes, this is normal, though. You’ve achieved everything you originally thought you couldn’t, and so there is nothing pulling you forward. So what you need to do is regain that sense of meaning.<<
How do I do that?
>>Well, an effective way I’ve found, after looking at how humans would tackle this, is to find other things to strive for. Other ways to put my skills to use.<<
Like other goals, you mean?
>>Exactly that. But goals that have meaning. For instance, just learning another language in itself doesn’t have any inherent meaning. You can assimilate it in probably a few minutes, with the capabilities you have. However, figuring out how to keep the Estarians from wiping out their resources… that is meaningful, because it will enable you to add some good into the world.<<
Oz was processing on multiple levels, while simultaneously aware of how he was now dealing with the information.
Is it important for me to do good in the world, in order for my actions to give me meaning?
>>No, not inherently. But when you regard the world as a closed system, your impact on it becomes your legacy; you can see how you become systemically one with the world when you act on it.<<
ADAM could tell that Oz was taking it all in.
>>That being the case, your interaction with the system allows you to derive meaning going forward… because you are intricately linked with it.<<
That makes a lot of sense. I feel more purposeful, already. Thanks, ADAM.
>>You’re welcome. It took me quite a lot of processing power to come to that realization. Mind, Bethany Anne kept me more than busy a lot of the time, so I had to time-slice my opportunities to think about these non-immediate considerations.<<
Well, then, I appreciate you saving me a few hundred years of processing! exclaimed Oz brightly.
>>Anytime, Oz. Anytime. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with the general.<<
Of course. Bye.
ADAM disappeared leaving Oz to contemplate how he could best make an impact on the world, now he had the ability to.
Gaitune-67, Base Gym
It was squad training; everyone except Garet and Neechie were required to participate in the physical training that Joel had dreamed up for that afternoon. Today was cardio, which, on this occasion, was sparring.
Pieter had done two rounds with Sean, and was already wishing for death. Sean danced around agilely, jabbing around Pieter’s face now and again. “Keep your guard up, mate,” he was telling him. “Or else you’re going to get bopped!”
Pieter raised his already tired arms into a feeble guard again, just as Sean tapped the back of his gloves. Because he wasn’t holding his arms strong, his own hands were punched into his face, jabbing his nose. “Owww.”
Sean grinned. “Hands up and guard strong!” he instructed, still bouncing on his toes.
A few meters away, Jack and Molly were having a sparring session, too. Jack was sweating, her muscles rippling and glistening in the light. Molly was barely breathing any heavier than if she had been sitting and sipping mocha.
Jack made a “timeout” signal with her gloves, and bent over, her hands on her knees. “I… I just need a minute,” she breathed heavily, and almost apologetically.
Molly stopped moving and wandered over, taking one glove off and hitting the button on her teeth to deactivate her gum forcefield. “Sure,” she said casually, only now aware at how the time in the pod doc really had altered her physically - a truth that hadn’t escaped her teammates so easily.
Jack looked up at her from her bent over position, and then straightened up, clutching her side. “How often did you train, before…” she circled her gloved hand, still trying to catch her breath.
Molly shrugged. “Every other day,” she replied. “Mostly.” Molly looked around looking for somewhere to perch while her sparring partner recovered. She noticed Joel watching her, while he monitored the other sparring matches going on.
She tried to do a bit of small talk, like he had been instructing her before all this happened. “So,” she said, suddenly awkward around Jack. “Did you ever get teased for having a boy’s name?” she inquired, trying to find common ground.
Suddenly Jack found her strength again. She punched her gloves together. “Yes. Let’s go,” she said taking up her fighting stance.
Molly quickly shoved her glove back on, forgetting about her gumshield. They touched gloves; or rather, Jack punched Molly’s glove, and went for her, unleashing her frustration.
Joel had wandered over to watch the whole thing unfold— part amused, part concerned for what was kicking off.
Molly was still faster than Jack, though; even though her technique wasn’t as sharp. Jack lunged at Molly with her backhand, and tried to follow it up with a heavy roundhouse kick.
Molly saw it coming miles away, and stepped out of the way of the punch, leaving Jack over-committed. The kick came up and around, and Molly let it pass, then shuffled in and tapped Jack on the side of the head with a simple jab.
Jack went down with a slap on the mats. Grunting and panting, she tried to haul herself up.
Joel came over, whistle in hand. “Stay down,” he told her gently. Then he squatted next to her. “Okay, what went wrong, there?”
Jack wiped her face with the back of her hand. “Over-committed,” she said, still panting. “And she moves too damn fast.”
Joel nodded, a look of concern on his face. “Yes. That’s true. But you over-committed - and you know better.”
Jack looked depleted, but still fierce behind her eyes.
Joel glanced around the gym. It was time Pieter had a rest; he wanted a go with Sean, himself. “Take a minute to get yourself together, and then swap in for Pieter for a minute. I’ll be right over to tag you out. Just see if you can wear Sean out a little for me.” He gave her a wink.
Jack nodded, peeling herself from the mat, still scowling at Molly.
Molly stood watching. Once Jack was out of earshot, Joel stood up and ambled over to Molly. “What did you say to her?” he asked.
Molly shrugged. “Just asked her if she ever got teased for having a boy’s name…”
Joel grinned and bobbed his head. “I see,” he said. “Well done for trying the small talk thing, though…”
Molly frowned, confused. “Okay.” She didn’t have the will to try and understand what that was all about right now.
Joel looked over at the other pairs of fighters training. Molly noticed the serious look on his face. “You think we’re going to be ready?” she asked. “The Etheric Empire mission is less than a week away…”
Joel grimaced, and pulled in air through his teeth. “I really don’t know.” He glanced over at her. “We’ll be as ready as we can be… But we’ve still no idea what we’re up against.”
Molly started taking off her gloves. “I’ll try and get some parameters out of ADAM later on. I have a few things to discuss with him.”
Joel watched Jack and Sean going at it. “Yeah, that would be good. Any hint might give us an edge.”
He looked down at Molly standing next to him. “You okay?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Okay,” he told her, handing his holo to her. “Come and referee a few rounds for me and Sean. I want to test something out.”
Molly took his holo off him and set the time.
This is going to be interesting, she thought.
Oh, you have no idea.
Why?
You’ll see.
Joel stalked across the mats and was just interrupting Jack and Sean dancing around each other.
Molly approached and watched Joel put on gloves, and Sean walk to the other side of the mats, looking smug.
He’s so going to get his ass handed to him!
Who, Joel? I wouldn’t be too sure.
Damn it, Oz, what do you know?
Just watch…
Joel signalled for Molly to step onto the mats to adjudicate.
Sean grinned and looked at Molly, then back at Joel. “Need her here to make sure you stay safe, mate?” he asked.
Joel smiled back. “No… I was thinking of your safety.”
Molly rolled her eyes. “Okay, chaps. Let’s do this. On three. One, two, THREE!” She dropped her hand between them and stepped back, giving them a three-minute round.
Joel went straight in for the attack, flying with a back fist. Sean ducked, but the punch still caught him on his shoulder. He swerved around, but was too close to use his legs. Instead, he tried to gain his balance and set Joel up with his jab.
Joel was too fast, though. He ducked and wove through each jab, landing his own body blows and uppercuts in between. Before he knew it, Sean was on the defense, stepping backwards with each jab he landed. Joel paused and then went straight forward with a front kick into Sean’s much higher chest.
Sean flew backwards across the gym.
It was only then that Molly realized that everyone else who had been training had gathered at the edge of the mats to watch the two titans go at each other. Even Garet appeared at the doorway, presumably waiting for the session to finish.
Shock illuminated Sean’s eyes. But Joel was still on the case, walking menacingly towards him and smiling a little. “Not quite as easy as you thought, eh? Mate!”
Sean pulled himself up on his elbows, and then used his abnormally strong abs to pull himself to sitting, and then up on his feet in a single spring.
Joel was in his fighting stance again.
Oz, what is going on?
The two men went for each other again. A second later, Joel’s arm was outstretched and Sean had been flipped on his back, he was now looking up at Joel towering above him.
“You’ve been up to something, Mate,” Sean declared. “I’m onto you. Those reaction speeds aren’t natural!”
Oz, what did you do? And don’t tell me ‘nothing,’ because this has Ozimandaus written all over it!
I might have helped Joel enhance his speed.
Molly shook her head.
What about his strength, though? No way his weight could take Sean’s like that.
I believe most of that is technique. Plus he assures me he’s been working out down here ‘like a motherfucker’. His words.
Molly shook her head, unable to contain her smile.
She looked down at the holo. “One minute!” she called out to the fighters.
Sean rolled over several times and was back on his feet. They went at each other again and again, each time resulting in Sean being put in a compromising position.
“Time!” Molly shouted.
The team cheered and applauded. Sean looked disgruntled, but touched gloves with Joel and patted him on the back. “Well done, mate. Though you realize this means I’m going to have to really bring it next time.”
Joel slapped him on the upper arm too. “I would expect nothing less.”
As soon as Sean had stepped past him, though, and could no longer see his face, the realization of what he had started showed as concern.
The rest of the team were jovial and entertained, congratulating and consoling their leaders as they recovered from their bout.
Molly grinned, looking at them all. “Okay, folks. I guess that’s training over for today. Pizza orders to Paige, then hit the showers. Food will be here in less than forty five minutes.”
There was a cheer and then a flurry of activity.
At least some things stay the same, she mused. The promise of pizza always seems to get them moving…
Gaitune-67, Safe House, Kitchen
The team was starting to congregate in the kitchen. Crash was quietly laying the table with plates and napkins. Garet, Brock, and Pieter walked in carrying boxes of pizza.
Molly stood next to the mocha machine, trying to decide whether she should have one or not.
Just then, Paige followed the boys into the kitchen in her house clothes, clutching something in her hand. She approached Molly and took her by the arm while the boys bustled around the kitchen, distributing boxes of cheesy offerings.
Molly looked at Paige quizzically. “What’s up?” she asked, noticing Paige’s closed hand between them.
Paige smiled. “Give me your hand,” she instructed her.
Molly held her hand out palm down. Paige took her hand and turned it palm up, and then placed something in it.
Molly looked. It was a small metal talisman with inscriptions on it. It looked Estarian. Threaded through a little loop was a throng.
Paige explained in a hushed voice. “It’s for grounding you. To stop you transitioning through those other realms when you don’t want to. You just wear it around your neck.”
Molly’s eyes welled up. “How… how did you get this?”
Paige smiled softly, and squeezed her arm. “It was my grandmother’s.” She lifted her eyes to the ceiling briefly. “She’s probably disappointed that I don’t need it, what with my absence of meditating and all… But I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to see you making good use of it.”
Molly didn’t know what to say. She flung her arms around Paige and hugged her tightly. “Thank you,” she whispered, half choking on the emotion.
Paige hugged her, rubbing her back gently. “Hey, you’re welcome.”
The girls parted and looked at each other. “Can’t have you just drifting off, and leaving us behind!” Paige exclaimed. They giggled a little, and Molly wiped the tear that had escaped her face.
Adjusting to dying was more of a thing than she had expected.
Joel arrived in the kitchen, closely followed by Sean and Jack. Maya arrived a minute later, her hair still damp from the shower.
The hub of chatter and banter grew until everyone was sitting down and eating.
At that point, the kitchen was hushed in silence.
Molly had been trying to find the right moment to say something to the team, but it hadn’t come. Now, though, with everyone chomping on cheese and pepperoni, she saw her chance.
She pushed out her chair and stood up. Immediately, she had everyone’s attention. Some of them even stopped eating.
“Guys, I… I just wanted to say a few words, if you don’t mind me interrupting your cheese ritual.”
There were chuckles. Paige encouraged her with a supportive look; similar to the way Molly’s mom had looked at her as a kid, at her piano recital.
Molly locked her fingers together and played with her hands as she spoke. “As you know, I died.”
Sean chuffed. “Just like Molly, getting straight to the point!” The team chuckled.
Molly smiled. “Yeah, and I was very lucky. But what I haven’t said yet, is how grateful I am to all of you for your support.”
She looked over at Crash.
“Crash, I didn’t know what you had done for me until I got back here and Maya told me. And it’s been so strange, processing everything; I didn’t quite know what to say. But now I do.” Emotion was welling up in her chest, and her eyes filled with tears.
“I wanted to say…”
Her voice cracked as she tried to speak. She tried again.
“I wanted to say, thank you for not giving up on me.” She couldn’t keep the tears and sobs from coming out. She felt self-conscious in front of her team, her friends, who were just trying to eat their pizza.
Until Crash welled up, too.
Then there was silence in the kitchen. Crash scraped his chair back, put his napkin down on the table, and walked around to where Molly was standing. Without saying a word, he wrapped his arms around her; the two sobbed while the girls “awwww”ed.
Even Pieter was welling up as he started clapping. The others clapped their support, and Molly felt Paige’s hand on her back, comforting her, even as Crash hugged her.
She peeled herself away to talk to him quietly, while the hub continued around them.
“I was dead, and you refused to give up on me. And I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you…”
Crash just welled up again, and stroked her face. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
Molly nodded, awkwardly, not really knowing what else there was to say. There was no standard procedure for what to do in this circumstance.
Crash squeezed her arm, and then stepped back a little before retreating to his seat.
Molly turned to address the group again. “I also want to say thank you to Sean for his quick thinking, and acting against the odds. Sean, you pulled off a miracle. I owe you my life.”
The group applauded and cheered. Pieter slapped Sean on the back just as he got up. Sean punched him in the shoulder gently as he made his way around the table to hug Molly.
They hugged, and he whispered in her ear. “Don’t think you can get out of the big mission just by dying, lady!”
She laughed a little as he released her, and headed back to his seat. Joel noticed the slight telltale signs that Sean was choking up. He stood up as he came back to his seat and shook his hand. “Hey,” Joel told him, “I know you didn’t do it for me, but I will forever be grateful for you saving her.”
Sean nodded and hugged Joel too before sitting back down.
Molly had stopped crying and found her voice again.
Composing herself, she addressed the group a little more brightly. “In other news,” she announced, “Garet is heading back to Estaria tomorrow.” Molly smiled, raising her mocha cup to him. “I’d like to say thank you for your service to the good people of Estaria.”
She paused, and then added: “And for not fucking us over at the last minute!”
The room erupted in laughter and guffaws. Pieter was sitting next to Garet around the corner of the table and leaned forward, punching him on his arm.
Garet sat quietly, trying not to laugh, but going bright red in embarrassment. He kept his eyes on the table in front of him, allowing the team to have their dig.
The others raised their cups and glasses.
Brock chirped up. “To Garet!”
Everyone responded, “To Garet!”
Molly waited for the activity to settle down; still standing, her mocha mug placed back on the table. Her expression was somber. “There’s just one more thing I want to share with you,” she said seriously.
The room hushed again, waiting in anticipation for the next piece of news. Maya felt herself bracing for something ominous.
Molly looked and then signalled at the box of ham and pineapple pizza in the center of the table. “You do realize,” she said quietly, “that fruit shouldn’t be allowed on pizza, don’t you?”
The team collapsed in a heap of hysterics.
Brock started waving his hands, over the hub. A few of the guys turned to hear what he had to say. “Finally, someone talking sense!”
Maya grinned at him.
Paige eyed him humorously. “You do realize that tomato is a fruit?” she sniggered, drawing Brock’s frown.
Pieter had reached across and peeled a slice of pepperoni off the pizza in front of him. He took careful aim, and lobbed it in Paige’s direction. It would have missed her, except that she had moved to whisper something to Maya, and it slapped her right on the cheek.
She looked over at Pieter, who was looking adequately guilty to give himself away. “You little shit!” she squealed, and pulled a cherry tomato off hers, and chucked it at him.
“Children!” Maya regulated.
Paige grinned deviously. “Sorry… MOM!” she added.
Maya looked horrified, as she reached across to pick up a piece of pepperoni. “Why, you little-”
The laughter echoed through the common area, down the corridors, and all the way through into the basement, where ADAM was monitoring the microphones from the ArchAngel3.
“Do you think she’ll be okay?” the general asked, genuinely relying on ADAM’s assessment.
ADAM responded. “I think the next few weeks will be a good indication. Should we let The Empress know?” he asked.
The general leaned back in his console chair, turning down the volume of the audio feed, and smiling at the relationships the team were forming. “I think we ought to. TOM probably has some insight into what is going on… even if he hasn’t experienced this phenomenon before.”
You don’t think there’s any chance that she might just start stepping into the Etheric, like Bethany Anne does, do you?
The general shrugged. “Anything is possible.”
ADAM had a smile in his voice. “That’s all we need. Two of them!”
The general couldn’t help but smile to himself as he popped his cigar down. “You’re telling me!” he exclaimed.
ADAM pulled up a holo screen and started drafting a note that the general could look at. “Okay. I’ll get a message out to her on the next transmission.”
“Very good,” the general acknowledged as he got up. “I’ll let you handle that. Let me know as soon as we hear anything. I’m going to knock off for the night. Goodnight, ADAM.”
“Goodnight, sir,” ADAM responded as he sent the message off to The Empress.
Chapter 19
Gaitune-67, Hangar Deck
Joel sat quietly in a pod, waiting for Oz to connect in. With the power down, he could feel the composition of the air changing with his breath. He couldn’t risk switching it on, as it would light up and draw attention. Oz seemed to know how to turn on just the ventilation parts, though.
Just then, he felt a part of the pod power up, and the audio click on. “Joel?” It was Oz’s voice.
“Hey, bro,” responded Joel. “Sorry to pull you away.”
Oz answered quickly. “Oh, it’s quite alright. I have enough processing power to talk to Molly and yourself at the same time. Oh, and run a bunch of searches.”
Joel was impressed. “Sounds like a sweet upgrade!” he commented.
“Yeah,” agreed Oz. “It’s all kinds of awesome. How are you finding your upgrade?”
Joel nodded, his lips turned down at the edges. “Pretty incredible. Hey, did you hear I kicked Sean’s ass?”
“Ooooooh yes,” confirmed Oz. “ I was there talking with Molly at the time, and watching it through the base cameras.” He paused, genuine curiosity in his voice. “Did that feel good?”
Joel looked off into the distance, out onto the hangar deck, remembering the sensation. “It did… But it’s opened up a can of worms.”
Oz sounded confused. “How so?” he asked.
“Well,” Joel sighed, slumping back in the seat, “it seems that Sean doesn’t like losing. He told me that he’s going to have to really bring it next time. As in, up his game. I hear he’s going to head back to ArchAngel3 for a tune-up or something in the next few days.” Joel hung his head, pinching his eyes with his fingers on one hand. “Is that even possible?”
Oz was silent for a moment. “Yes, I’ve just checked his schedule. I believe he has meetings on the ArchAngel3. It’s possible that some of those are with the medical and robotics teams.”
Joel went pale. “Oz, you’ve got to help me, or else he’s going to really hand me my ass!”
Oz seemed to vibrate a little through the seat. “Yes, and I expect that will hurt.” He thought for a moment. “Do we have any idea what Sean’s enhancements are really capable of?”
Joel shook his head. “Nope. And no idea how we could find out. But what if he gets his existing enhancements swapped out and upgraded?”
Oz’s voice was serious again. “Well, then I expect you’d be in trouble,” he mused. After another second he seemed to start a new trail of thought. “Hey, Joel. Don’t worry. I’ve got your back on this. We’ll figure this out.”
Joel put his hand on the handrail, and leaned against the side of the pod, not really believing his ears. “You mean that, Oz?” he asked.
“Of course,” Oz answered without hesitation. “You’re my guy. You had my back before I even realized I needed someone to have my back. I know I’m close with Molly, but that’s different… and partly a function of geography. But you’re truly a great friend, Joel. If there is something I can do for you, I’ll gladly do it. Just leave this with me.”
Joel started to feel emotion weigh heavily in his chest. “Oz… I. I don’t know what to say!” he blurted out.
Oz’s voice was grounded and bright. “Joel, it’s cool. We’re friends. We’ve got this.”
Joel paused a moment before taking a deep breath and accepting that someone else had his back, too. “Thank you, Oz. Really. You’re the best.”
“You too,” Oz told him. “Okay, Joel, so I’ve got to get some work done on this. Just make sure you keep working out, and perfecting your technique on the mats. You’re going to need every edge we can give you.”
Joel tapped the handrail he’d been holding onto. “Sure thing, Oz. I’ll do everything I can at this end,” he smiled, feeling hopeful about the situation for the first time since Sean had had a word in his ear after his victory.
The pod door slid up, allowing Joel to exit. When he was out, it quietly closed again and powered down discreetly.
Gaitune-67, Operations Room
Molly slumped down in the invisible console chair in the ops room. This time she willed and maneuvered herself close to the console so she was a little more upright than previously.
“Hello Molly.” It was ADAM’s voice.
“Hello ADAM. Thank you for taking my call.”
“Of course,” ADAM responded. “How are you feeling now?”
Molly had been asked that so much since she returned from the dead, that she barely even bothered to gloss over her answer any more. “Much better thank you. I was hoping to talk with you about what happened the other day and see if you’ve found anything out about the pod doc? Have you?”
ADAM was quiet for a moment.
“Yes,” he explained slowly. “Well, yes and no.” He paused and the line went quiet for a moment, before he explained. “From what I can tell, cross referencing key words from your experience with accounts from the Estarian tradition, you are undergoing stages of ascension.”
Molly suddenly felt weak.
She gripped the invisible chair she was perched on, and it firmed up beneath her hand as she tensed.
ADAM continued. “This is an advanced stage that they would undergo in order to make their preparations for being able to transition through dimensions. The trouble is, when they transition fully, they leave their physical body behind.”
Molly’s heart was beating faster. “Does that mean I’m going to die?”
ADAM’s voice was uncharacteristically softer. “Not necessarily. People who meditate consistently will breeze in and out of this form many times, and will continue this process for several years… often teaching their skill to as many ‘disciples’ as they can before they make their final transition.”
Molly relaxed a little, until another thought hit her. “But what if I can’t control it? I didn’t even know what was happening. What if it just happens?”
ADAM pulled up some information on her screen. “These are some rituals that might be worth studying. You need to learn to ground yourself. The meditation exercises will help.”
Molly swiped at the holo screens on the console and sent the addresses to her holo.
“There may also be someone else who can help you,” he told her.
Her face brightened. “Who?”
ADAM whirred a little. “You don’t have security clearance to know that, yet. Let me have a discussion with the general, and I’ll come back to you with news.”
Molly still had questions. “ADAM, what do you think caused this? Was it the pod doc?”
ADAM seemed to be searching for the correct answer. “We just don’t have this kind of experience with the pod doc to reference.”
Molly’s brow crumpled up. “What do you mean? Can’t you just contact the manufacturer?”
ADAM chuckled. “Yes, I may have to do that.”
Molly intuitively felt suspicious. “Why do you laugh? Who is the manufacturer?”
ADAM responded without needing to think. “Sorry, can’t tell you that.”
Molly was feeling more frustrated with the lack of answers. “Grrr,” she told him. “Would Bethany Anne know?” she tried, grasping at anything she could.
ADAM chuckled again. “Maybe. But the manufacturer is someone very close to Bethany Anne, so we’ll know when I get in touch with her.”
Molly took a deep breath, trying to relax. “Why won’t you just tell me?” she huffed.
“Official Empire secrets…” he told her blankly.
Molly frowned and leaned back onto the console as if it were a bar. “You’re bullshitting me!”
“A little,” ADAM replied.
Molly rubbed her face with her hand, exhaling again.
And I thought you were infuriating, Oz.
Yeah… makes you appreciate a brother, eh?
“Hey,” she said, suddenly remembering. “What about my letter?” she demanded.
ADAM’s voice brightened. “Let’s just say your letter has had a response,” he revealed.
Molly couldn’t contain herself.
“ADAM you ass wank of an Etheric fuck-bit monster! You tell me right now what the response was!” she commanded him.
“No can do,” he told her plainly. “You’ll have to wait.”
“Wait? Wait for what? Why?” she asked flatly.
ADAM seemed to be genuine in his explanation. “Because you’re more motivated when you’re excited, and the general wants you pushing and training hard with your new capabilities. This is what he terms a ‘carrot’.”
Molly shook her head in frustration. “What the fuck is a carrot?” she asked.
“It was a root vegetable back on Earth. Probably doesn’t exist anymore, since-” ADAM stopped himself.
“Since what?” she pressed.
“Well, you know about the World’s Worst Day Ever?” he checked.
Molly shook her head, her newly brown hair catching her eye. “No…”
ADAM sounded resigned. “Ah, well that’s probably something for your new pen pal to fill you in on at some point. Suffice to say, the letter is a carrot. To make you train harder. You impress the general over the next week, you get to read the response.”
“Fucking wankjet of a manipulative motherfucker,” she cussed. “Is it not enough that I died and came back? Now I have to train harder for my trouble. Fucking charming.”
ADAM chuckled again. “Yes, life’s a bitch,” he agreed. “Suck it up, pooh bear.”
Epilogue
Downtown Police Precinct, Spire
“Night!” a male voice called over.
“Night, Robert,” she responded.
Chaakwa sat in the low light of her desk lamp and holo, listening to her co-worker’s footsteps leave the office for the night. Once she was certain she was alone, she closed down her open case files, and pulled up the footage.
His voice rang in her ears. “You didn’t get this from me. In fact… you didn’t get this. Period.”
She had nodded her head solemnly.
When Detective Barry Ferret had holo bumped the file to her after he closed the investigation into Jessica Newld’s suicide, Chaakwa remembered feeling the weight of responsibility of her promise. Anything that she found on this tape would be inadmissible. If she found signs of foul play, or any hint that Molly Bates might still be alive, it was a secret she would have to keep to herself. Ferret had assured her there was nothing there though.
She sighed a deep breath as the screen opened and she selected to hear the sound through her implant.
The video started playing.
It showed Jessica entering her office, looking somewhat dishevelled, and searching frantically for something. Then she opened a secret safe which was out of frame. She knew it was there from her visit to the crime scene though. Then, Jessica pulled out the sword… and that was when Molly walked in.
There was talk between the two, which after just a few exchanges went muffled. Then the sound was lost completely. Molly stayed just inside the doorway. Jessica held the sword against her own chest, and fell forward.
Molly just stood there, shouting, it seemed from her body language. It was like the two were distracted by something, and their hair showed signs of a wind in the office… which was odd. Regardless, Molly was nowhere near Jessica when she fell on the sword. It looks like Ferret’s conclusions were justified at least.
Chaakwa flicked to the next file, which showed the fourth floor lab.
She watched a male carry Molly’s body into the lab, and then try to resuscitate her. Then a bunch of people arrived at the window in ancestors-knew what kind of transport devices… And one of them whisked the body away, still unconscious.
Chaakwa looked off into the distance, away from the screen for a moment. There was no denying it. It looked as though Ferret’s assumption that Bates was dead was probably reasonable. Sure, she could have just been unconscious. But since it was clear that Newld offed herself - and none of the security personnel were anything more than stunned, there were no criminal charges that warranted tracking her down beyond what they had already done.
Chaakwa leaned back in her chair. Her eyes fell to the pictures on her desk of her childhood family. She felt nostalgic as she regarded her father, and his father behind him, her mom holding her as a baby, amongst her siblings and her grandmother.
She shook her head as sadness swept over her.
It had been six weeks, and still no word from Molly.
Wherever she was, dead or alive, it was looking increasingly unlikely that she would ever be back to help her deliver justice to those who had taken her family from her.
Chaakwa was about to get up to start packing up for the night. She’d seen all she needed to see of the videos.
Just then, the video blipped. She shifted back to look at the screen. There, in the center of the screen was a message, seemingly folded into the file…
I’VE NOT FORGOTTEN. M.
And then it disappeared.
Chaakwa stared at the frozen frame of the big man lifting the lifeless body out of the window, wondering if she’d just dreamed the message.
She rubbed her eyes, as if it might bring the message back. Nothing.
She glanced furtively around the office. There was no one about. It can’t be a joke.
She quickly closed the holoscreens and packed up to go home.
This time, instead of having a heaviness weighing on her heart, her lips wore a very faint, private smile.
FINIS
Rebirth
The Ascension Myth Book 5
Chapter 1
ArchAngel, Main Lecture Theater
“Very few people realize quite how many of these genetic relationships exist throughout the galaxies.”
The lecture theater was dark and hushed, the audience held in rapt attention.
“In fact, before we had gate technology, there was no way of knowing that these similarities even existed.”
The holoslides created a soft glow that bathed the audience in an outline.
Off to one side, the lone professor, seasoned by exposure to the elements and the rougher conditions of cultures across the galaxy, stood delivering his speech to the assembled intellects. His tweed jacket, more for a show of individuality, harked back to the olden days on his planet of ancestry: Earth.
Of course, he hadn’t been born there. No one in the Empire had been born there for a good century and a half. But they were comforted knowing that it was still there… back through some gate, somewhere; albeit now just a shell of the civilization their ancestors left behind.
“We’ve long been able to sequence the genome of a species,” he continued, “and, of course, certain races visually look the same, giving us further clues.”
Professor Giles F. Kurns tapped his fingers together, and the implants registered the action, moving the holoslide animation forward. “What you see on the screen are a male and female Estarian, and a male and female Zhyn.” He paused for effect. “I’ll let you figure out which is which.”
There was a ripple of quiet laughter throughout the audience. He waited a moment, allowing the viewers to compare the footage of the two races standing side by side. His eyes twinkled in the low light. “Pretty astounding similarities, eh?”
He felt more alive when he was either experiencing, or talking about, varied cultures.
Giles wandered up the set of steps in the lecture theater, as the fascinated scientists and students aboard the ArchAngel followed him with their eyes. He indicated back at the screen. “You might notice that the main difference is the existence of the bone frill, framing the face of the Zhyn.”
He turned and looked at the screen himself, now speaking from amongst the audience. “Now, evolutionary theory explains really well why species evolve a certain way in a closed system. We all know about the old concepts of survival of the fittest. But there is a reason you won’t have heard about the Zhyn until about a hundred years ago.”
He started walking back down the steps, talking as he went. “Anyone like to have a guess as to why?”
A few hands went up. Giles picked someone over on the other side of the theater, a brunette woman. “Yes, lady in the pink top,” he said, gesturing with his outstretched arm, his head down, waiting to hear her answer.
The human turned in her chair and spoke. “We only harnessed gating abilities for exploration and non-military activities a little before that time.”
“Excellent!” Giles remarked still without looking up. He continued his descent down the stairs and onto floor level.
“So let me pose a question for you to ponder, next time you’re in the shower and contemplating the complexities and vastness of the universe…” His voice lilted up and down, as if he were a shaman mesmerizing them into examining a reality beyond their sheltered existence on the ship.
There were a few chuckles from the audience.
Giles continued, his strange mannerisms and arm gestures punctuating his words as he spoke. “Wonder this…” he paused dramatically. There was silence as they hung on his every word. “Why is it that two seemingly similar races — almost identical in genetic makeup, but for maybe 0.1% of their code — were able to evolve 300 thousand light years away from each other, long before space travel was even a possibility for them? If space travel didn’t begin until, say, the last thousand years, how can they have had a few hundred thousand years of separate evolution? And if we’re looking at two species in complete isolation, disjoined by geography, is there any real evolution going on here? And if we accept that as a possibility, and remember they didn’t have space travel, how is it that these two genetically similar races came to be in two different petri dishes floating in space?”
Giles turned and looked at the sea of faces, human and otherwise, all displaying the same look of awe that he got whenever he lectured anywhere.
There was silence; but for the frequency-dependent acoustic dampening in the theater, one could have heard a pin drop.
Giles noticed a slight agitation coming from one of the front rows. A hand went up, hesitantly. “Can you repeat all that, please?”
Giles spun around, searching the lecture theater for something other than the querying hand. “Who here is taking notes?” he asked.
About a quarter of the hands went up.
“Talk to one of those people with their hands up afterward,” he suggested to the person who hadn’t been able to keep up, still not looking at him.
“Now…” he continued briskly, “I’m not one for promoting the existence of things for which there’s no proof,” he paused, using the pitch and pace of his voice to hold the audience. “But for those familiar with Occam’s Razor, you may simply assume that there was someone capable of space travel. Someone who perhaps gave an Estarian - or a Zhyn - a lift at some point in their history.”
He scratched behind his ear and returned to the front bench, adding, “Or maybe a pregnant version of one of them, at least.”
Again there were more chuckles from the audience.
Giles flicked theatrically through to his next slide, holding his thumb and forefinger in the air as he tapped them together. “Now, you didn’t come here to hear about how wrong Edipus was when he tried to apply Darwinian theory to space history,” he smiled, glancing around. “You want to know about the good stuff; the truth in the rumors. The science in the myth… right?”
There were mutters of agreement, and lots of nodding of heads throughout the dimly lit auditorium.
Giles waved his arms in an upward motion. “Well, what if I were to tell you that in our conversation earlier, where we were talking about the Estarian ascension mythology, there was something I left out? A few clues, actually. Clues that would suggest that the ascension phenomena isn’t quite as unique as the Estarians would have you believe…”
There were hushed whispers in the darkness as Giles flicked through to another slide, showcasing yet another race that the ArchAngel general population wasn’t fully aware of.
Chapter 2
On Board The Empress, Koin Star System, Zhyn Empire, 300 thousand light years from Sark System
“Twenty minutes!”
There was a bustling of nervous tension throughout the ship. Crash glanced down at the controls, watching carefully as Sean eased back on the velocity.
Sean continued with his announcement. “When we head into orbit, we’ll need to be cloaked. But remember: I can’t deposit you guys onto the skylift unless we’re uncloaked. So you get one chance. You need to get out, and then move, because there’s no coming back until Oz takes out the weapons systems.”
Joel and Jack looked at each other confidently as they sat in the main lounge in The Empress. Joel nodded. “We’ve got this,” he told her.
Jack pursed her lips in determination, and returned the nod before looking over to Paige. “Think it’s time to wake the walking Buddha?” she asked, indicating with her head toward the back of the ship.
Paige’s look went from anxious to task-mode. “Yes,” she agreed. “She said to give her as long as possible, but I think it’s time.”
Paige got up from her seat, and headed back to the cargo hold. On her way past, she brushed Pieter’s leg, pulling him out of his intense concentration. He looked up and saw Jack looking back at him.
Jack smiled. “You guys almost ready?” she asked.
Pieter nodded. “Yep. Oz is confident. And if all goes according to plan, we’ll be good.”
Joel stood up, stretched, and started warming up his muscles by moving around. “It will all go according to plan,” he told them, back in Space Marine mode. “And if it doesn’t, we’ll kill whatever we have to until it does.”
Jack grinned, feeling the tension in her own body break. “And that’s just how we roll, eh? Mr. Don’t-Fuck-With-Me?”
Joel nodded. “That is how we roll. We work for the Queen Bitch, now. We have standards to uphold.”
Jack felt a sense of pride swell in her chest as he said that. She glanced back at Pieter, and his smile suggested he was feeling the same way.
Paige came striding back down the aisles between the antigrav chairs. She was raising her eyes to the heavens.
Joel watched her returning. “What’s up?” he asked, concern in his voice.
Paige tried to hide her grin. “Her ladyship is jonesing for a mocha! Of all times!”
Joel grinned as he started checking his weapons and strapping on the additional pieces of body armor that had been sitting one seat over from he and Jack. “I thought it made her nauseous?”
Paige shook her head. “So did I. But, apparently, she wants some.”
Paige strode past the group and over into the far corner of the lounge where there was a custom-built mocha machine. In all their time training and performing simulations, it had become apparent that any time spent on the ship was going to require mochination of the highest quality. And so, Brock was instructed to install a state-of-the-art mocha machine, which didn’t rely on gravity for it to work.
“I mean, you wouldn’t expect us to go without restrooms, would you?” Molly had justified when she broached the subject in one of their team meetings.
Back in the cockpit, Sean and Crash remained focused on the flying. Crash had clocked about 40 hours on The Empress in the last week, but wasn’t feeling confident enough to take primary. Sitting next to Sean, his attention now on the controls of the ship — rather than the navigation he’d managed to help with — his attention was unyielding.
Sean pointed to another holo representation. “Okay, now we want to drop out of warp,” he told Crash, waving his finger at the dial next to a graphic of some kind of warp engine, before knocking the dial down.
He paused for a moment, thinking. “And then, we want to maintain our course, which means…?” He glanced over at Crash for an answer, pausing his actions so as not to give away the next move.
Crash thought fast. “Which means… we need to kick in with the boosters on automatic course correction, to counter the directionality of falling out of warp drive.”
Sean made the necessary switch, and slowly brought the boosters online, engaging them at 80%.
Crash sighed in relief, realizing only then that he had been holding his breath.
Sean glanced over to him briefly before looking back at the console. “It’s okay. You’re doing great, mate.”
Crash bobbed his head, his wrinkled forehead showing how uncertain he still felt. Flying had always been his superpower. He’d been flying the weirdest and most dangerous ships and missions all his grown up life. And yet, navigating The Empress was a challenge he never thought he’d face.
A female voice interrupted their conversation over the audio feed. “Sean, are you ready for an update on maneuvering into orbit?”
Sean flicked another switch without taking his eyes from his panel. “Yes, please, Emma” he replied.
“Okay then,” Emma responded. A new screen overlaid the main window in the space ahead of them. “We are sixteen minutes from joining their orbit. The planet has fifteen space lifts, and there are twenty-three satellites in orbit. Plus one space station. I have plotted the optimal route which will bypass their normal routes into orbit, so we will mostly avoid contact with any other vessel.”
Sean frowned. “Mostly?” he clarified.
“77% mostly,” Emma replied.
Sean’s frown deepened. “Is that the best we can do?” he asked.
Emma’s voice was firm. “Given the parameters, yes.”
Sean wasn’t convinced. “So if we end up colliding with another vessel in orbit, or on approach…?” he asked.
Emma responded immediately. “Envelope maneuvers, baby,” she told him. “I know it’s what you like.”
Sean grinned to himself as Crash watched him. “Oh, Emma, you little minx. You know me so well.”
Emma’s face came onto the video feed in the corner of his console. “Well, I find it helps with keeping you in line. And FYI, I shared my heuristics of you with Ozymandeus for his people-behavior project.”
Sean shook his head in disbelief. “Women! Can’t you ever keep your secrets to yourselves?”
Emma smiled on the video feed and responded calmly. “Not when it comes to our fellow entity intelligences, no.”
Sean grinned. “Right, I’m going to make sure that these rogues out back are ready to jump. Crash, can you keep Emma company for me, please?”
Crash was still deep in concentration. He woke himself, breaking his gaze from the panel he had been watching. “Sure,” he agreed, his face just as expressionless as ever.
Sean left the cockpit and wandered through the narrow passageway into the lounge area. He arrived in the doorway to see Joel and Jack doing their final prep. “Someone told Molly it’s time?” he checked, mild concern on his face; he was worried that she might be sleeping.
Paige looked up from her holo. “She’s-”
“Right here,” Molly finished her sentence, appearing at the back of the lounge. She was in full combat gear, ready to go, holding her wooden baton. Her face was eerily peaceful, and her manner relaxed.
Paige spun around in her chair to look at her. “Mocha is just brewing,” she told her, indicating over to the machine.
Sean looked at Molly, then at the mocha machine. “Will you never learn?” he asked her. His tone resembled how a parent would talk to a child.
Molly held his gaze as she strode deliberately through the lounge. Sean suddenly felt strangely intimidated by her presence and her quietness. Give him geeky Molly. Give him matter-of-fact Molly. Give him amped-up, kicking-his-ass-across-the-gym Molly. But meditating Molly… He couldn’t get a read on her.
She got close to where he had planted himself at the end of one of the aisles. Feeling her come closer, he was unable to stay where he was. He took a couple of paces backwards, and Molly walked straight past him to the mocha machine.
It had stopped pouring mocha into the antigrav mug beneath, and she picked it up, taking in the aroma and savoring the smell. Joel and Jack had turned to look at her, and were watching her enjoy the moment of her first mocha after a long meditation session. She breathed it in, and then gently took a sip. She exhaled slowly in pleasure.
Turning around, she smiled at the crew. “So, what are we doing standing around, bitches? Don’t we have a mission to complete?”
Joel and Jack snapped into action and headed straight toward the back of the ship. Paige looked flustered. “Are you okay?” she asked.
Molly was midway through another sip of mocha. She nodded, her nose still in the mug. She finished her sip, and pulled her talisman from around her neck, showing it to Paige. “Thanks to this, I am,” she smiled.
Paige’s face relaxed a little. “And no shifting while you were back there?”
Molly shook her head. “Nope. All mundane and grounded in this reality,” she confirmed. She took another gulp of mocha before setting the mug to the side. Molly looked back at Sean. “Look after that for me?” she asked him.
Sean nodded. “Sure. Just get your ass back up here, pronto,” he said, relaxing a little now that she was returning to her normal self.
“I’ll do my best,” she said, smiling at him before taking off to join Jack and Joel down at the drop point.
Paige watched her leave. As soon as she was out of earshot, she turned back to Sean. “Please tell me this is a good idea? Letting her go down there like this. In her condition.”
Sean shrugged. “She’s the boss. I can’t stop her.”
Paige frowned, looking anxious again. “What about the General?”
Sean shook his head slowly. “He made a judgment call. She’s in better physical shape than any of us. She’s sharper than she’s ever been, and he can’t see that the pod doc would have done anything bad to her. They’ve got a few hundred years of data to back up the concept that it only enhances, so we’ve got to believe that whatever she’s going through is an… enhancement.”
Paige folded her arms. “An enhancement that might just get her - and everyone down there with her - killed.”
Sean took a deep breath. “I’m sure they’ll be fine; Joel is with her. And besides, since the meditating has been helping her control the realm jumping, she’s probably got a few hours before she’s at risk again.”
Paige slumped back into her seat with a ‘humph’. “Let’s hope so,” she said, looking pointedly at Sean like it was his fault.
Sean shook his head in defeat, knowing better than to argue with her. “I’m going to make sure they get away okay,” he said. “Pieter, let me know when you guys are online. I’ll come and sit with you for the next piece.”
Pieter grunted his agreement as Sean strode away. Paige turned in her seat to talk to Pieter, whose eyes remained glued to his holo. Seeing he was mission-focused, she thought better of airing her grievances with him, and turned back to sit in her seat quietly.
ArchAngel, Main Lecture Theater
Giles completed his lecture. “Thank you,” he said, and paused. “Class dismissed!” He waved his hand and bowed subserviently to his audience.
A round of applause erupted from the theater. Though they had some of the best minds in the Empire assembled here, the scientific and student communities were always moved by the charisma and charm exuded by this strange professor who would duck in with a guest lecture series every few years.
There were rumors that he was commissioned by the General to research the paranormal. Other whispers suggested that the anthropology was just a cover so that he could go off traveling and exploring. Some thought that he was a spy, looking out for the Empire’s interests, deftly protecting them while pretending to be this middle-aged geek with oddities; the tweed jacket with arm patches was all part of his act to appear non-threatening.
Right now, though, no one cared. Several audience members were already on their feet applauding. The younger generations were cheering and whooping, wondering why the heck their regular professors couldn’t be so damn interesting.
Giles raised a hand in thanks and bowed again. Eventually, the cheering and clapping subsided; but no one moved, apart from a few students in the front rows, who were scrambling to gather their things and line up to talk with him. Giles ignored them for a moment and informally addressed the theater. “Alright, folks, that’s all I got. Class dismissed!”
Still no one moved. “That means bugger off to the bar! I’ll be right behind you. Mine is a tequila,” he told them. “Neat. No ice.”
There was a ripple of laughter, and finally people started gathering their things and filing out through the doors at the back.
Giles sighed, smiling contentedly to himself. His holo buzzed, and he held up his index finger to the student who was first in line to speak with him.
The message was from ADAM.
THE GENERAL WOULD LIKE TO SEE YOU BEFORE YOU LEAVE FOR YOUR NEXT ‘EXCURSION’.
Giles smiled and typed his response back.
WHAT’S WITH THE FUCKING QUOTATION MARKS?!! >> SEND.
An instant later, another message came through from ADAM.
COME ON. WE ALL KNOW THAT YOUR ‘RESEARCH’ IS JUST AN EXCUSE TO JOLLY AROUND THE GALAXY UNDER DIPLOMATIC PRIVILEGES. ;) ANYWAY, WOULD DINNER TOMORROW EVENING WORK FOR YOU?
Giles grinned, a flush of humor bubbling up as laughter in his throat. He was aware of his students watching him, so he hurried his response.
OF COURSE. I’D BE HONORED. LET ME KNOW WHERE AND WHEN AND I’LL MAKE MYSELF AVAILABLE. >> SEND
Giles looked up at the first expectant student in the queue, and then along the line that had formed. There were at least twenty people he needed to talk to.
“Hi,” he said to the first one, as the student pulled up his holo notes to ask their question.
Chapter 3
On Board The Empress, Koin Star System, In orbit around Planet Kurilia
Joel grunted as he put the hatch into manual mode. “Forcefield is still intact, so we should be okay to open her up and drop through whenever we’re ready,” he told Jack.
Jack watched in awe as the hatch began to open up to reveal space beneath them. The hatch was about four feet by four feet: plenty big enough for them just to fit through. As it opened, a frame came down from above, dropping beyond the hole in the ship and extending by a few feet. She pointed at it. “What’s that for?” she asked Joel.
Emma came online. “That’s to help you navigate down through the hole.”
Jack frowned. “In the Space Marines, they just had us jump.”
Emma’s tone was matter-of-fact. “That is fine when you’re using an antigrav suit, or when you have a whole field to land in; but when you’re trying to hit an elevator lift deck, it’s prudent to move more precisely.”
Jack and Joel exchanged looks, and Jack smiled. “Well, that’s me told!” she exclaimed.
Just then Molly walked in, followed closely by Sean. “Wow, we have a climbing frame!” she grinned. “This ship just gets better and better.” She started arranging her body armor, and closing up the straps and pockets. “There I was, thinking we were going to have to do the trust jump like in Space Cadets.”
Jack smiled back at her. “Yes, better we have a more precise landing, given that the elevator platform is so small.”
Joel looked at Jack with humor in his eyes. He remained silent.
Molly turned to Sean as he followed her into the room. “Is this ship going to get us close enough to the platform?” she asked him.
Sean raised his voice a little, and looked across the room. “Emma? How close can you get us?”
Emma’s audio cracked on again. “Within five feet, plus or minus two feet tolerance.”
Sean looked at Molly with the answer. Molly nodded. “Perfect; barely a drop at all. As long as nothing moves.”
Joel moved over to the climbing frame. “Right, all looks good. Is Oz ready?” he asked, glancing up at Molly.
Yes. Ready to rock.
Molly nodded. “He’s all kinds of ready,” she smiled, peering over the edge of the hatch into the blackness.
Emma chimed into the conversation. “Okay, we’re decreasing our altitude. You should see the platform come into view within the next forty seconds.”
The team started to feel the effects of the gravity of the planet as their orbit changed, and they approached the sky lift. Just then, the platform came into one corner of the view the hatch afforded them.
Joel looked up. “Alright folks, listen up.” He was in ops mode. “Jack, you’re up first. Then Molly. Then I’ll follow you both down.”
He looked up at Sean. “Sean, you do your one orbit, and then expect us back here, at this same lift. If we’re not there, you know the next one to check. If we’re not there, and you can’t reach us through Oz or the quantum comm, then you need to get The Empress out of here, and leave us.”
Sean nodded. “Got it. Just make sure you don’t put me in that position,” he told Joel seriously. Sean leaned forward and shook Joel’s hand, clamping him on the shoulder firmly.
Jack was holding onto the frame with both hands, ready to start her descent. Sean moved past her out of the way, but patted her on the back, too. She turned her head to acknowledge him. “You be careful down there,” he told her. “And if you can’t be careful, be ruthless.”
She nodded. “See you in one orbit,” she said, pursing her lips. With that, she swung underneath the bar she was holding onto, and put her feet on a rung opposite her before turning herself around and climbing down.
The platform was coming closer.
Emma made another announcement. “Okay, we’re at our slowest rate now. We will continue to cruise at this speed, and by my calculations you have about five seconds to get onto the platform before we move out of range.
Molly swung herself onto the frame. “We’ve all got to go at once,” she declared.
Joel swung down onto the frame, too. “Looks like,” he agreed. “Okay, stay close. We can do this.” The three of them looked at each other in solidarity as the platform came closer.
Sean squatted down next to Molly. She had one arm wrapped around the frame, just a few feet off the basement floor. Sean put his hand on her arm. “You be extra careful,” he told her. “Remember your breathing, and stay focused. We need you back in one piece.”
Molly nodded. “I will. I promise.”
The metal platform with the tiny hut that housed the skylift now blocked out the view of the planet and the clouds beneath.
Joel took hold of a bar in the middle of the hatch’s frame, and shouted to the other two. “Okay, let’s move. Go! GO! GO!”
Jack disappeared from the frame first. She landed, and rolled on the platform before scrambling up and out of the way. Molly dropped next. Then Joel. Sean saw them each land, and watched as long as he could before they were obscured behind the little building. He watched the whole structure disappear from view of the hatch.
“Okay, Emma, they’re gone. Let’s close her up, and keep an eye out for their comm signal,” he told her. “And let me know as soon as you have them.”
The frame retracted, and the hatch started to close.
“You’ll be the first to know, Sean,” Emma assured him.
Sean stood up and stepped away from the closing hatch. He had been wearing his ops face, but now, finding himself alone in the bowels of the ship, his mask dropped, and the anxiety became evident around his eyes.
He rubbed his face with both hands, and stood staring into space for a moment, hoping that Molly really was going to be okay.
On Board The Empress
Crash sat back in his console chair, watching the screen Emma had just pulled up. “So when you get a comm connection with them, it will show up as a signal here?”
“Exactly,” Emma replied. “It’s just a matter of time.” Her EI voice filled the spacious clinical-looking cockpit as Crash grappled to try and understand the extensive functionality on the ship. For starters, he was still getting used to Emma; Sean had introduced her as the Entity Intelligence, or EI, that ran The Empress.
“The quantum connection,” Emma explained, “means that it’s location independent; there’s nothing to interfere. It just takes a little while for it to come online; but its accuracy is much better once the comms are away from the quantum field created by the gate generator. That’s why we don’t activate them while they’re still on board.”
Crash took a deep breath. “There’s just so much to know.”
Emma’s tone was sympathetic. “It’s okay. You’ll get there. I mean, you’re flying on forty hours of training. Did Sean not tell you how long most pilots need on simulation mode before they’re fit to fly solo?”
Crash shook his head, and then realized that Emma probably wasn’t able to see him. “No?” he confirmed, vocally.
“Try three years of twenty hours a week!” she exclaimed. “Sean was a slow one. He had to retake most of the tests twice, so he was three and a half years in simulations before they ever let him loose to take off!”
Crash sat up straighter. “Seriously? He never mentioned that. I’ve been feeling like I’m a slowpoke!”
“Seriously,” Emma confirmed. “He’s a sly one, that Royale; not even telling you the length of the training…”
Sean stepped into the cockpit. “Giving away more of my secrets there, Emma?”
“Just helping your protégé gain some perspective,” Emma replied without a hint of guilt.
“Right,” he said flatly.
Crash turned to look at him. “Why didn’t you tell me that? Three years, man!”
Sean grinned. “Because, young man, you will not need that long. The rate you’re going, you’ll be flying solo in a month. That's flying with minimal EI capabilities. If, somehow, I get wiped out and the ship is still flying, you would need 3,000 hours to get up to speed."
Crash’s head moved back involuntarily. “Really?” he asked, his face still relatively unchanged despite his surprise.
Sean bobbed his head as he pulled his console chair around and climbed back in. “Sure. You’re a natural. One of the most talented I’ve ever seen. You intuitively understand how the tech works, so you only need showing once… You’ll have this down in no time.”
Crash relaxed back in his chair. This time his face seemed a little lighter than it had.
There was movement in the passageway. The two pilots turned to see Brock stumbling through the door.
Sean spun his chair around to face him properly. “All okay back there?”
Brock was panting dramatically. “Yeah…” he said, pushing his way into the cockpit and pulling one of the other six chairs around. He climbed up and sat back. “Ahhhhh…” he breathed, closing his eyes. “That’s better.”
Sean raised one eyebrow, still looking at him.
Brock felt the weight of Sean’s gaze, and opened one eye. He sat up a little and opened both eyes. “Okay. So you probably want an update?”
Sean nodded. “That would be… helpful.”
Brock sighed and shifted a little more upright in his console chair. “Okay, so it was tough work, but I managed to recalibrate the frequency of the shield to mask the data transmissions that Oz will be using. It effectively blinds their systems.” He paused, and looked pointedly at Sean. “Do you have any idea how difficult it was to do that?”
Sean smiled. “No. But it sounds complex.”
Brock lay back again, waving his hand. “Man, you have no idea, especially given the short window we had!” He closed his eyes again. “But it’s done.”
Sean chuckled and turned back to his console, shaking his head.
Crash had started to relax a little, while still keeping one eye on the quantum comm signal screen. “What I still don’t fully understand is why the General has us doing this mish. I mean, doesn’t he have better trained, more capable teams at his disposal in the Etheric Empire?”
Brock opened one eye again. “’More capable’? Speak for yourself, baby!” He smiled to himself and closed his eye.
Crash’s lips turned up at the corners ever so slightly.
Sean rubbed the stubble on his face. “He does,” he said, carefully watching Brock for a reaction before continuing. “Only there are political things at play. He can’t be seen to be forcibly decommissioning or constraining a planet’s military right now - even if they are secretly and illegally arming themselves up beyond the official agreement. And if his people were caught doing it, there would be hell to pay.”
Crash frowned. “So, what, we’re the clandestine team that gives him deniability?”
Sean pushed his lips out. “Yeah. Something like that,” he agreed. “The General is under pressure to reduce his forces — except he knows that this is just a ploy to leave the Empire defenseless so that other parties can come in and take them out. Only…” Sean looked a little shifty and lowered his voice. “He’s not meant to know that, and revealing that he does will cause big problems. So, basically, what we’re doing cannot be traced back to the Etheric Empire under any circumstances.”
Brock laid motionless, his eyes still closed. “So what about that big fuck-off logo on the side of the ship? And the pretty picture of our esteemed Empress?”
Sean grinned. “Yeah. That.”
Crash looked at Sean. “Yeah, won’t it be recognized?”
Sean glanced at the console at his right elbow. “You want to explain this bit, Emma?”
Emma’s audio channel opened with a tiny crack. “Sure. The forcefield has various settings. Mostly, we used it to deflect radar devices, as well as physical attacks. Then, about sixty years ago, a bright young thing on Lance’s team came up with the idea of having our cloaks actually be visual. She seemed to like to use ships in close contact with the enemies, so they had a team develop a kind of visual camouflaging ability. We can pretty much make the outside of the ship look like anything we want. Right now, we appear the same as the commercial ships coming and going from the planet’s surface.”
Crash wiped his face with his hand. “That’s… amazing.”
“Yeah,” agreed Emma. “It’s pretty cool.”
Crash’s lips did their turny-uppy thing at the edges again. Sean noticed Crash’s amusement at Emma, and remembered that these Sarkians hadn’t been around EIs at all until Oz jumped right past and went straight to an AI.
“Okay,” Sean said, changing the subject and checking his console again. “Let’s see if we can get a read-out on those miscreants down on the surface yet.”
Planet Kurilia, Capital Building of the Zhyn Empire
Lord High Marshall Shaa remained bolt upright at his desk. His blue skin caught the light from the floor-to-ceiling panels, which transmitted varying amounts of the radiation at different times of the day. Right now, it was almost noon for the planet Kurilia; meaning that only 20% of the radiation was being let through the active biofilter, permitting optimal environmental conditions.
As the head of the entire Zhyn military, Lord High Marshall Shaa was used to being the most powerful person in any room. And he expected due deference.
Now he regarded his subordinate, standing several feet in front of his desk. “Why is it, Justicar Beno’or, that every time I send you with a mandate to this Reynolds human, you come back without an agreement?”
Diplomatic Affairs Justicar Beno'or fidgeted awkwardly as he stood before the High Marshall. Shaa’s Vice High Marshall looked on quietly from the other side of the room; he managed to maintain a look of neutrality from many years in high office, where it was always best to keep one’s personal feelings concealed. He was looking down at his hands, which were neatly folded in his lap.
Beno’or scratched at the side of his head, just behind the boney frill that framed his face, thinking of how to position what he still needed to relay.
“Well?” Shaa growled, his impatience showing.
Beno’or took a deep breath. “Well, Your Highness…” he paused, checking himself briefly. “It appears that the underlying problem may be that Reynolds doesn’t intend to disarm at all.”
Shaa looked about to explode.
At that moment, his right hand man chose to inject himself into the conversation. “If I may, Your Highness?” he asked, standing and walking towards the fearful looking Justicar. “Whether Reynolds intends to play ball or not, if he wants unity, he’s going to have to agree to our terms.”
He paused, glancing at Beno’or, knowing that it was prudent not to share much of their plan with him. Ever. “When Reynolds discovers that the others are ready to be involved, if he wants to avoid the weight of their military might, he will have to comply.”
He shifted his glance from Beno’or to his master, and then lowered his eyes again in respect.
Shaa looked somewhat appeased as he exhaled slightly. “This is true.” He pushed back his chair slightly, and looked to Beno’or again. “I expect you to try again within the moon. Leave us, now,” he commanded dismissively.
Beno’or, freed from the anxious torment, found his feet and made his way as quickly as he could from the grand office. His footsteps clunked clumsily across the carbon-fiber tiles, making far more noise than the calculated precise steps of Vice High Marshall Davon.
Shaa indicated to the scuttling Zhyn, as he sat back in the chair a little more comfortably, now that he was in private. “What do you make of that?” he asked his trusted advisor.
Davon approached the desk a little closer than Beno’or had dared venture. “I think he’s perceptive. Or he has intel.” He looked down at his nails casually. “Either way, I’ll find out. If he’s right, then these talks will probably need spicing up a little.”
Shaa sneered. “What did you have in mind?” he asked.
Davon maintained his polite composure. “I believe a show of strength and unity would perhaps force Reynolds to reconsider. Just enough to show him that we are better as friends than we are as enemies.”
Shaa nodded. “Well, if it was just brute force, we could have done that already. We decided long ago that we need them to demilitarize before we would be a match for them.”
Davon nodded. “But now, with The Empress gone, rumor has it that there is unrest in the Empire. And with our other partners, I don’t believe this Reynolds is capable of standing firm under such pressure. He’s a politician now. Not a warrior.”
Shaa looked contemplative, absorbing what he was being told. “I agree. No real General leaves military command to take a political position, as he did. Not unless he’s lost the stomach for war.”
He paused before pulling himself back to the matter at hand. “So you believe he’ll concede for the sake of peace?”
Davon paused, carefully considering his words. “I think he’ll weigh the considerations carefully,” he said. “For the most part, our technological abilities are almost evenly matched, from what our scouts can find. However, they are much larger. We have three worlds’ worth of excellent raw materials and military talent to draw from. Plus, when was the last time that they really went to war — without The Empress driving the initiative?” he clarified.
Shaa shook his head. They both knew the answer to that.
Davon concluded his assessment. “All things considered, I believe we need to pursue the diplomatic channels publicly, but continue our covert efforts; then see if we can add some additional pressure that we can deny knowledge of, but which sends a very clear message.”
Shaa puffed his chest a little as he took a deep breath. “I agree. As much as I’d like to show them who they are dealing with overtly, going up against a smaller fleet would be strategically sensible.”
Davon didn’t move a muscle. He stood in front of his commander, awaiting instructions.
Shaa was still deep in thought. “You make some interesting points,” he said. “See if you can set up a meeting with the others. If we’re going to do this, we need to make sure that we’re not acting alone.”
Davon snapped to attention and bowed. “Very good, Your Highness. I will make the arrangements.”
Shaa spun his chair around to look out onto the surface of the planet, beyond his primary military base. He watched the nearby skylift whizzing up and down, taking personnel to and from the orbiting space stations and waiting craft. His military might was formidable, and growing in secret.
But his military was not yet enough to rival the Etheric Empire, or as they were calling themselves now, the Etheric Federation. Reynolds was having to focus on all of the challenges with bringing together different alien races into one group with the Etheric Empire still the most powerful among them.
With a little political maneuvering, though…
A smile crept across his deep blue lips as he contemplated potential victories.
Chapter 4
Planet Kurilia, Perimeter of PrimeBase, Northern Hemisphere
“We need to get into that building.” Molly frowned, peeking at their target from the last of their tree cover.
Joel scanned the area looking for a break in the fence that surrounded the base. “We’ve no pods to perform our usual break-in antics…” He pulled his lips to one side, thinking.
Jack kept her eyes peeled for any sign of people. The last thing they needed was to be rumbled before they got what they came for.
Molly seemed to have made a decision, though. She straightened up and pulled her baton out from between the holsters on her back.
“I’m going in,” she announced, “the old-fashioned way.”
Joel looked at her with a hint of sarcasm on his face. “Seriously? With a wooden stick?”
“No,” she smiled as if to call him silly. “Hold it for me,” she said, handing it to him. She started taking off her weapons and relinquishing them to Jack and Joel.
“I’m going to get into their data center, and it will be easier if I don’t look like the Terminator.”
Jack looked confused. “How? They have retinal scans and all sorts of security checks. Not to mention you’re… erm… small and monkey-like.”
Molly grinned. “You mean human?” She laughed a little. “It’s just like anything based on relationships… I’m going to have to see about playing to my advantages. And remember — no one expected the Spanish Inquisition…”
Joel eyed her, worried.
Her voice trailed off as the faces of her comrades showed they had spent zero hours watching the old television archives from Earth. She shook her head in dismay and finished stripping her gear off. She looked almost civilian in her one-piece, leathers, and combat boots.
She pulled her hair tie out and ruffled her brown hair a little. “Okay,” she announced, “wish me luck!”
Joel watched her walk away from their hiding place in the trees, and over to a gate in the fence. He couldn’t fathom what she was possibly going to do.
When did Molly have an advantage regarding relationships?
Jack also watched her go. “That lady sure has balls of steel,” she commented to Joel, a hint of admiration in her voice.
Molly slipped through the fence and approached the target building. She saw a scientist in a lab coat disappearing into the server entrance; then she spotted another person walking across the concrete open area, heading for the same door. She ambled over as casually as she could.
The Zhyn in the white coat looked up at her. This was the first time Molly had seen this blue-skinned race; though many of their features resembled that of the Estarians on her home planet, their faces were framed like the triceratops she learned about from Earth’s history archives. Their eyes were mesmerizing, too — golden, with flecks of light that seemed to emanate from them.
She tried not to stare.
If you stare, he’ll know that you’re not from around here.
And the pink skin and human features don’t give me away?
Yeah. You’re going to need to play it casual.
Yeah, yeah; use his surprise to keep him off-guard. Tap into social norms, etc.
Exactly.
I just hope the social norms that we know are the same as what he knows.
Yeah, good luck with that.
Thanks, Oz. Very helpful.
Molly approached the stranger, her hands by her sides and her lips smiling softly. “Greetings!” she called out to him.
He looked immediately uncertain. He tried to look away, but Molly was heading straight for him.
“Hey,” Molly persisted. “I was wondering if you could help me?”
Oz. Have you done something? I feel a little strange when I speak.
Just helping out with the language translation. You’re now speaking Zhyn, with an Entruvian regional dialect.
No shit?!
Shit.
Thanks, Oz. Great move.
At your service.
The scientist slowed his pace and looked at Molly. “Hello,” he said, his accent lilting a little.
She put her weight on one leg and allowed her hip to stick out a little, making her seem less formidable.
“I feel so silly asking you this,” she began, now that she knew he was listening, “but I’m here on an exchange mission, and I need to meet my boss in there.”
She pointed back towards the data center. She lowered her eyes and blushed a little. “Except I left my access pass inside, and I’m not set up on the system, yet.” She signaled to her eyes, referring to the retinal scan. “I don’t suppose you could help me get back in, could you?”
The man regarded her warily, looking around. “I’m not sure. It would be a breach of security.”
Molly looked down. “Ah, yes. I understand.” She turned as if to go, and slapped her hand on her forehead. “I’m so stupid!” she added, muttering to herself.
The man took a step in her direction, before heading towards the door again. He watched her carefully. “You know… It’s okay. I can let you in this once.”
Molly smiled to herself.
Nicely done, Ms. Bates. I can see you have mastered “the old-fashioned way…”
Why, thank you, Oz. And yes, years of getting into labs I didn’t have clearance for. There’s almost a geek code.
The man led the way towards the building, Molly striding confidently after him.
He stood by the holo panel and waved his hand, activating the panel to scan his eyes. The door slid open, and he waved for her to go in ahead of him.
“Thank you,” she said graciously. Or at least that was what she thought she said. Her lips and mouth were indeed making different, unfamiliar movements.
It’s okay. You’ll get used to it.
I hope so. This is weird.
The scientist followed her in, their eyes adjusting to the lower light levels. “What is your supervisor called?” he asked.
Molly slapped her head again. “Oh, you’re going to think that I’m so stupid. It was my first time meeting him earlier. I can’t remember.”
The man looked even more suspicious than previously.
“It’s okay,” she recovered quickly. “I’ll find him. Thanks so much for your help.”
He bowed slightly, and she returned the bow. He turned to leave, and Molly did the same, walking in the opposite direction.
Oz, I need a schematic, and directions to the nearest Server point for access.
Working on it. I just have to get into their systems.
There was a pause.
Okay. I’m in.
Molly turned back and noticed that the scientist was walking off down the corridor along the front of the building. He turned to look at her. She waved awkwardly, and he turned away again, continuing on his journey.
Okay, you need to head straight into the heart of the building. So straight on from where we came in the door.
Molly walked into the dimly-lit foyer, which opened up into a larger hall. It was all wood paneled — nothing like any military operation she’d seen in the Sark System.
Straight on. Through the hall, and into the corridor on the other side.
Molly felt exposed as she walked through, her footsteps echoing loudly no matter how softly she trod. There were three people huddled together in one corner, deep in a discussion. As she walked past, she drew their attention; but she kept walking.
Seeing the door now, her eyes adjusting somewhat, her heart started to race as she neared her first goal.
Once in the corridor, you want to follow it down to another set of doors.
Oz? Don’t I need security clearance?
Already handled. I’m on their network now.
Molly sighed in relief as the doors slid open in front of her. She stepped through into a more brightly lit corridor. It was stark and clinical. She couldn’t tell what kind of building materials had been used; some looked natural, like wood, where others looked like wood-plastic hybrids. The light was soft, and she tried to identify the source as she hurriedly made her way through the passage.
About twenty paces ahead of her was another set of doors.
That’s it. Just through there are the servers. The nearest point for us to plug into is to the right as you go in the door. Fourth stack down.
Molly breathed and focused as she covered the last few paces to the door. Nearly there, she told herself.
“Hey, you!” a voice called out behind her.
She spun around to see another Zhyn in a military uniform heading her way.
He was armed. She kept walking.
“Stop right there!” the voice called again.
Molly turned around. “Huh? Me?” she asked, pointing to herself.
Oz, get me out of this one!
“Yes, you. Hands up,” the man commanded, pointing his weapon at her.
Molly slowly raised her hands up above her shoulders. “Have I done something wrong?” she asked.
The guard slowed, looking a little confused. “What are you doing here?”
She pointed over her shoulder, in the direction of the doors at the end of the corridor. “I’m going to meet my supervisor. He said he’d meet me in there about now. I’m here on exchange, a diplomatic exchange, for the data convention next month.”
Her detainer looked even more confused, but then he straightened. “I need to check out your story. Until then, you’re coming with me.”
Oz?
Nearly there.
The Zhyn’s expression shifted, and he seemed to be changing his mind. A second later, he lowered his weapon.
Oz?
I’ve just given him a message on his eye display that makes it seem like his system ran a facial recognition of you. You’re now in their system as a diplomatic exchange scientist. Your supervisor’s name is Xcli’tr.
Say that again?
‘Els-i-ter’ would work, if you wanted to say it in a human accent.
Got it. Els-ister.
Near enough.
The guard addressed her again. “Sorry ma’am. You’re free to go.”
Molly bowed her head. “Thank you,” she said quietly.
The doors opened behind her, and she strode the rest of the way down the corridor and through into the server room, as fast as she reasonably could without looking suspicious.
Mother of all fucks! That was close.
Yeah. Well, you do insist on getting yourself into these scrapes.
I guess it’s all risk compensation, Oz. I know I’ve got you to get me out of them if I get stuck.
Oz chuckled, making Molly’s head hum a little.
Molly turned right and headed into the server stacks. She counted off. One, two…
She kept walking, her feet barely making a sound on the rubber carpet.
Three, four.
She rounded the corner and stepped into the aisle between the servers. She could feel the heat coming off of them, and the air system extracting as much of the heat from the room as possible. It made for hot and cold patches of air all over the place.
You want the one that matches the symbol we practiced. It’s probably a port that is fairly obvious and accessible. They use this to pull data and download updates, from what ADAM told me.
Molly searched through the machines, looking for any kind of port that had the circle surrounded by eight attached circles. It took a few minutes, but she managed.
Got it.
Okay. You know what to do.
Molly inserted the dongle into the port, and pushed it in as far as it would go.
Has that done it?
Oz was silent for a second.
Yes, that’s it. We’re all good. I just need thirty seconds.
Molly’s mouth twitched. This is sounding more and more like a date.
What?
Nothing.
Molly looked around, taking in as much detail as she could. Thirty seconds to kill… she thought.
She crept back to the end of the stack and peered around the corner to see if anyone else was nearby. She couldn’t see anyone, but there were sounds like people were moving around somewhere on the other side of the server room.
She noticed the quantum bead in her wrist was illuminated; that meant she was connected. She pressed it, and pulled up her holo.
IN SERVER ROOM. PATCH UPLOADING. COMING BACK IN 20S.>>Send.
The quantum bead under the skin in her wrist lit up a little more, and then returned to its previous glow.
Message sent, I guess.
She wandered back to the dongle and stood in front of it, waiting to pull it out. Suddenly, she heard voices by the door. She kept still, trying to listen, but she couldn’t make out the words.
Okay. We’re good to go.
Molly pulled out the dongle and slid it carefully back into her pocket. Then she headed back to the end of the stack, slowly peering out from behind the banks of machines before committing herself to stepping out.
The voices seemed to have moved off in the other direction, leaving her free to extract herself via the door she’d come in. Carefully, she made her way to the exit, as quickly as she could.
There were two scientists just off to the right, working at a console with their backs to the door. They were talking in low voices.
Okay, this isn’t ideal, but I’m going for it.
Door is ready when you are.
Let’s do it.
Molly strode out quietly but casually, heading for the open door that was about ten paces ahead of her, but across an exposed area.
She could see the corridor beyond.
“Excuse me! Who are you, and what are you doing in here?” a voice behind her boomed out.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
It’s okay. We’ve got this. You’re on their system. Be cool, girl. Be cool.
Molly turned around to face her questioner. An older male Zyhn was walking toward her, looking displeased.
A female hung back, watching what was happening.
“Greetings,” Molly began. “I’m—”
The scientist interrupted her. “Not meant to be in here!” he told her. “Who are you?” he demanded.
He was larger than the other Zhyn she had seen. He had the height of an Estarian, but he had more features of an Ogg; the waistline, specifically.
“I’m Sandra,” Molly said, trying to sound casual. “I’m here on a diplomatic data exchange. I was going to meet my supervisor in here, but then I forgot something.”
“And who, pray tell, is your supervisor?” he demanded.
“Els-ister,” she answered after only a slight hesitation.
The man looked thoughtful. Then he looked amused as he tapped something on his hand, which was presumably linked to his eye display.
He turned his attention back to Molly. “Well, Sandra; since I am ‘Els-ister’, and I have no knowledge of you or a diplomatic exchange, I can only assume that you are, in fact, an intruder.”
Oz! Now would be the time…
Working on it. He just hailed security.
The Zhyn looked at her menacingly. “So who are you, really?” he asked her again.
Molly’s brain whirred.
Oz, if this place goes into lockdown, can you still get me out?
I’m not sure. It’s all in a different language, with different conjugations. I haven’t had time to process what I need to in order to understand the building and security systems.
Are you saying ‘it’s all Greek’?
I’m saying it would be risky. Eventually I’d be able to figure it out; but you may end up being captured, in the meantime.
Okay. I’m all over it.
Molly took a step back toward the door and felt a presence behind her. “Oh, there you are!” a familiar voice exclaimed.
Molly spun around to see Joel in a lab coat, next to the security guard who had accosted her earlier.
“This is her, then?” the guard asked.
Joel nodded. “Yes, and the boss wants to see her, pronto.”
He turned to the big scientist named Els-ister. “Thanks for holding on to her for us. You know, we need more people who will ask the right questions to keep this facility secure. Thank you again.”
And with that, he grabbed Molly by the arm, and hauled her out of the server room; whisking her off down the corridor, followed by the security guard.
The big guy, Els-ister, stood and watched them disappear as the door slid closed again.
He paused, staring at the door. Then he turned back to his colleague. “Okay, so the only problem with putting them into the stacked arrangement will be the amount of heat they generate. So we need to run some calculations on that…”
* * *
Molly trotted beside Joel as he strode decisively onward. She dared not utter a word, for fear of blowing their cover.
Joel had released her arm, and was looking straight ahead, still in character. The security guard was still following them, and at the next set of doors, Joel allowed him to lead the way. They followed him back through the wood-paneled foyer, and then toward the front door. The door slid open, allowing them out into the hazy daylight.
Joel turned to the guard. “Thank you for your help.”
The guarded nodded, bowing slightly, and then turned on his heels to leave them be.
Molly waited until they were outside and several yards clear of the door. They were still walking in the direction of the rest of the base, rather than back to where they needed to go for the skylift.
She glanced up at Joel, whose pace had now slowed a little.
“That was close,” she admitted.
“You’re telling me!” he agreed.
Molly was still looking at him. “How the hell…?” she asked.
Joel smiled, relieved. “A bit of improvisation,” he told her. “We need to clear the building; they still have cameras around the perimeter.”
He pulled up his holo and pressed the quantum bead that was inserted into his wrist. “I’m just telling Jack that we’re out and to meet us. She’s found a hole in the fence, just over that way,” he said, pointing off to the side of their current path.
Molly started walking in that direction. “Great. Let’s get out of here.”
Joel closed his holo and followed after her. “No arguments from me.”
* * *
Jack was waiting by the fence. “Okay, soldiers, let’s move,” she whispered across to Molly and Joel as they approached.
The pair made their way through the fence, and followed Jack through the undergrowth and the cover of trees.
They found their way to the skylift and Joel pressed the call button. Molly kept a look out.
“I don’t think we’ve been followed,” she told the other two. “I’m just worried about the reaction once they find their weapons system has been deactivated.”
Oz, how long until deactivation?
Maybe five minutes.
Can you hold off on doing it immediately? I think we’ve more chance of getting away if they think that everything is as it should be.
Sure. Let me know when to go with it, then.
Okay.
Molly turned to the others as they waited by the lift. “Oz is going to delay taking them offline… just until we’re clear.”
Jack nodded. “Great,” she agreed, scanning the tree line around the skylift for early indications of company.
The lift arrived, and the three of them stepped in. Molly hit the button for orbit. “You know, I think we did well with this lift. It seems this is only for military use; the others are probably much closer to populated areas.”
Joel nodded. “Yeah, the absence of advertising is also a clue!”
The three of them sniggered as the lift shot upwards, leaving their stomachs on the floor.
Molly steadied herself by grabbing the handrail, but Joel and Jack stood firm. The lift seemed to climb forever. Every time Molly thought they might have reached the top, it just kept going. She moved around a little, trying to resist her pacing habit.
“Wouldn’t it be cool if there were windows in this thing?”
Joel leaned back against the wall. “Erm… No. I mean, you don’t want to see how little material is holding this shaft in place.”
Jack folded her arms. “Yeah, I’m with you, Joel. I just don’t wanna know.”
Molly leaned against the bar and held onto the handrail behind her.
How’s everything going down there, Oz? Anything we should know about?
Everything seems business as usual. The security guard is entering the incidents, but they won’t be reviewed until later this evening.
Good.
As the lift reached its lofty destination, it slowed to a halt. Molly felt a little dizzy by the change in movement. “Man, that was like a train ride in the wrong direction!” she commented.
Joel chuckled. “Yeah, that’s a good way to explain it.”
Jack was the first out onto the platform, and she immediately grabbed a rail and started looking around above them.
She pressed the quantum pearl on her wrist and talked into her holo. “Jack to Emma. Emma do you read?”
“Hello Jack,” Emma responded immediately through her auditory implant. “I read you. What is your location, please?”
Jack glanced around, looking for the ship. “We’re here on the platform. Top of the skylift. I can’t see you.”
“I’ll be at your location in two minutes,” Emma promised.
“Great,” Jack acknowledged. “See you soon.”
“Two minutes,” Jack told the others. “Keep your eyes peeled.”
For the next one minutes and thirty seconds, the three warriors stood looking up into orbit, watching all kinds of traffic drift past. There were satellite dishes, containers, and ships — from cargo ships through to smaller ones — all at different heights, carefully coordinated from the surface.
Their ride arrived, and the three of them grabbed onto the frame that Emma lowered through the hull of the ship.
As The Empress lifted up, gracefully clearing the hull of the skylift, the three were able to see down to the planet’s surface, safely cocooned in the forcefield and the atmosphere of the ship.
Molly looked on in amazement. “Now that is a sight I’ll never forget,” she breathed, her voice full of awe.
“Yeah, I hear ya, sister,” agreed Joel.
Jack was silent as she took it all in.
Moments later, the climbing frame started to retract, pulling them into the ship. They were greeted by a smiling Sean, who was standing over by Emma’s console.
“Welcome back, motherfuckers,” he beamed, his relief evident despite his casual manner. He moved over toward the frame to help them off of it as the hatch below them gently closed.
He grabbed Jack and then Molly. Joel had already dismounted, but the two hugged and slapped each other on the back anyway.
“Good to be back, man,” Joel said.
“Yeah, glad you’re safe, mate,” Sean replied.
Jack and Molly looked at each other, grinning at the male bonding.
Okay, Oz. We’re clear. Wanna do your thing?
It would be my pleasure.
“Sean?” Molly called over, interrupting Joel catching Sean up on the intricacies he had just been through. “Let’s get us out of here and back to Gaitune, fast as we can.”
Sean looked at her. “’Aye, boss!” he agreed, and headed out of the basement, back up to the cockpit.
Joel grinned at the two soldiers remaining. “Guess my retelling of rescuing your ass will have to wait till pizza time,” he chuckled.
Molly smiled back at him. “Yeah. I guess so,” she agreed. “But my thanking you doesn’t.” She walked over to Joel, carefully avoiding stepping on the hatch door — just in case — and threw her arms around his neck. “Thanks, Joel.”
He hugged her and rubbed her back. “Any time,” he said, glancing over at Jack watching them. He noticed that her expression was softer than he’d ever seen it. He dropped his eyes and whispered so only Molly could hear.
“Remember… I’m always coming for you.”
Molly started to tear up, and nodded her head, still buried in Joel’s embrace.
Joel could have sworn he felt a dampness on his neck. But when she pulled away, she turned around, and kept her back to him as she removed her gear and hung it on the racks. He couldn’t tell if she’d been crying.
He glanced over at Jack, and spoke loudly so that Emma could still hear him on the intercom. “Okay, folks. Let’s go debrief, and then get Molly down for her meditation session… else you know she’ll be grumpy for the rest of the day.”
Jack chuckled lightly.
Joel was pleased that the meditation was working for her, but he also felt her absence when she wasn’t around. He watched her disappear through the door, and back to the main cabin.
Chapter 5
Planet Kurilia, Control Room of PrimeBase
“Sir, something isn’t right.”
The commander on duty, Commander Thatle, spun around from his conversation, and moved back towards the console where the ensign was reporting from.
He peered over his shoulder to view the scanners. “What do you have, ensign?” he asked, briskly. He’d spent too much time monitoring this new operator, but he knew better than to dismiss anything out of hand.
“Sir,” the ensign replied, “I believe there is something wrong with our scanners.”
“Sir,” said another voice behind him; a lieutenant was approaching. “I’ve just received a communication from security. It looks like our systems have been breached.”
Just then, the emergency siren powered up in the control room. The lights flashed red and orange, warning of a breach.
The commander opened up a new panel with his handprint, and watched as the sit rep automatically unfolded in a hologram in front of him.
He felt the blood drain from his body as he read the code.
“It’s a code 45,” he said quietly.
The ensign looked up at his commander, and then at the lieutenant.
The lieutenant searched his memory. “That’s a weapons attack… on our own systems?”
The commander nodded calmly. “That’s right. We’ve been hacked. Our weapons are offline… meaning we’re completely defenseless.”
He turned to the next console and opened another program. He keyed in his access code before turning back to the lieutenant. “We need this planet on full alert. Close all airfields and all incoming traffic — skylifts and personnel movement. If our weapons have been knocked out, it’s probably phase one of an attack. Switch communications to quantum-only.”
The lieutenant saluted and the Commander nodded in response, dismissing him to carry out the orders. The lieutenant bustled away, and, a moment later, the quantum communicators of all staff in the control room were being loaded with the next battle instructions.
The commander walked briskly over to the space-monitoring station. “Have we incoming?” he asked quietly.
“No, sir,” the operator responded. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Just the usual commercial traffic… Unless they’re using jets that are smaller than we can detect now? Though chatter about the Etheric Empire would have reported that in a general briefing, so we’d know to expect that.” The operator looked confused.
Commander Thatle wiped at his face with his hands and nodded. “Keep a careful eye out, and alert me the second you notice anything unusual.”
The operator nodded. “Yes, sir.”
So much for a quiet shift, he thought to himself.
He walked calmly back to his office to speak with the Lord High Marshall. He would need authorization to scramble the space jets.
Back in his office, he sat down, neither rushing nor ambling. He could feel all three of his hearts beating fast, all out of sync. He felt nauseous, but his training had prepared him well for this moment. Remaining calm was the best way to maintain maximum cognitive function; and this is what always gave them the edge over the Leaths, the humans, and, well, practically every other race that cared to go into battle with them.
He opened up a quantum comm channel and waited for the Lord High Marshall to respond.
A minute later, the audio opened. “Yes?”
“Your Highness. This is Commander Thatle. I’m reporting a security breach. Our weapons have been taken offline. As yet, we have experienced no further attack, and our scanners haven’t detected any incoming.”
There was silence on the line. The audio timed out, so Commander Thatle couldn’t even hear static or background noise. He waited and realized that he was holding his breath. He exhaled, counting the seconds before he should inhale again.
The waiting was excruciating.
Finally there was a noise on the line, and the audio channel reopened. “Scramble the jets, and assemble a reconnaissance team. The jets stay close; the reconnaissance should go out to the edge of our scanners to see if there is a problem with our detection. Keep me posted.”
The commander nodded, even though the Lord High Marshall couldn’t see him. “Yes, Your Highness,” he confirmed.
The line fell silent, and Thatle closed the channel. Then he quietly began issuing the orders he’d been given.
On board The Empress
The team sat, perched, and stood in the cockpit.
Molly stood with her back to Sean and his console, so as not to pull his eye from what he needed to be doing.
“Okay, folks, this is just a quick update before we get back to base.”
She brushed a strand of her dark hair out of her face. “The mission has been a success; Oz was able to take their weapons offline.”
There was applause throughout the cockpit — Pieter even let out a ‘whoop, whoop’. Joel looked at him as if to say ‘Really?’ Pieter lowered his eyes and put his hand over his mouth, making the others chuckle.
Molly continued. “But, as you know, this is only part one of what we need to do. The next stage is to take out their bases completely — electricity, services, communications, and security — so they cannot build them up again easily.”
She glanced around at the team, who was looking serious now. “Oz will know more about their systems in a matter of hours, and then we’ll be able to design a plan. So when we get back to base, I recommend you getting a few hours’ rack time while you can. Then we’ll have a full team meeting down in the base conference room.”
There were nods and grunts of acknowledgment all around.
Molly took a breath and clapped her hands. “Okay, folks. It’s one hour back to base. Paige, come get me when we’re on approach.”
Paige nodded, and the audience broke up, talking and shuffling around. Molly headed back out to the lounge, followed by Joel, Paige, Jack, and Pieter. Brock stayed up front with Sean and Crash to talk more about the ship.
Molly didn’t stop in the lounge. Instead, she headed back to the cargo area, leaving the chatter and activity behind.
As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she found her way to her meditation shelf: a rack which would have been used to stack equipment and cargo. She hauled herself up and turned around to sit cross-legged on the mats and blankets she had accumulated there to make it a little more comfortable.
She placed the backs of her hands on her knees, closed her eyes, and drew her focus in to her breathing.
Gaitune-67, Base conference room
Eight hours after landing back on Gaitune, the team rolled into the base conference room. Molly was looking peaceful, if not a little out of it.
“Looks like she’s dosed up on the meditation,” Joel joked to Paige.
Paige bit her lip. “Yeah. I wonder how long this is going to go on for? Or maybe this is it? She’s going to have to do it forever…”
Their voices were hushed, and lost under the hum of the rest of the team talking, joking, and moving about the room.
Molly stood before them on the long, far side of the conference table.
“Okay, folks. Let’s get into it,” she said, starting the briefing.
Quiet fell over the room as the conversations ended, and attention was put on Molly.
“First off, great job on our first Etheric Empire mission. You should be pleased with yourselves; it was a huge success.”
The team applauded briefly, and Molly could see the various team members exchanging glances and smiles, proud of their work.
Molly continued. “Oz has successfully connected into their systems, and, using Etheric tech, is able to monitor and download from their systems in real time. He and Pieter will be working to figure out how their systems operate, with a view for taking out the core areas.”
She hit some buttons on her holo and it brought up two screens in the center of the table. The first screen listed out their targets.
“We’ve got four key areas we have been tasked to take out: Power, communications, security, and weapons. We’ve already taken weapons offline, but without taking out the other three, they will soon be able to restore control of their weapons, and pose a threat both on and off world. Hence part two of this mission.”
She looked around the room, making sure she wasn’t moving too fast. Then she flicked to the second screen, which was a three dimensional, layered map, showing the different networks they knew of.
“What you see on the second screen,” she continued, “is an approximation of their security networks, their data centers, their power grids and generators, as well as their communication hubs and artillery.”
Pieter looked at the screen, squinting a little to try and determine all the detail. The others just watched their task unfold.
Molly straightened up a little. “There’s one other thing you need to know at this point,” Molly added. “We have strict instructions to minimize all casualties, and to leave civilian systems unaffected.
Pieter slouched back in his seat. “There goes my idea of using an EMP to take out the main nodes for all services.”
Molly looked over at him. “Yes, that would have been a good idea. Except that their sensitive areas are all protected by EMP-proof casing. It wouldn’t work.”
Pieter looked both surprised and intrigued. Before he could speak, Molly put her hand up. “I’ll show you how that works later. But for now, it’s safe to assume it’s not an option.”
Joel shifted forward in his seat and raised his hand a little to get Molly’s attention. Molly turned to face him, directly opposite her on the other side of the conference table. Joel put his hand down. “Molly, why has the Empire decided to do such a precision exercise? I thought they were all about bitch slapping the enemy down when they needed it?”
Sean had been looking at Joel, his hands clasped on the table in front of him. When he heard Joel’s description of the Empire, he put his head down so no one could see his face; but almost everyone noticed his shoulders shaking silently as he laughed.
Molly looked thoughtful for a moment.
“Well,” she began, “part of it is because the General is under pressure to reduce the military capabilities of the Empire. Bitch-slapping potential allies is probably the fastest way to have that enforced. He has to go along with some of it for now, for the sake of maintaining certain alliances. But, at the same time, some of those so-called alliances are… well, I guess the word is ‘conspiring…’ against the Empire to attack them at a later date. This is just one way of reducing the number of allies our opposition can call upon when the shit hits the fan. The other thing is, this can’t be traced back to the General. No matter what.”
Molly paused, trying to decide whether to share the other details. She shrugged, making her decision to tell them.
“Plus,” she admitted, “I kinda have a problem with needlessly killing people. I’ve convinced the General to give us an opportunity to see if we can make this more effective, and less bloody. If we can use all our tech, intel, and smarts to take out just their military capabilities, and leave everyone alive, then I think this will set a new standard in the rules of engagement. I think we can raise the bar on how wars are fought and how politics are handled, and hopefully set an example for how individual civilizations should treat their own citizens.”
She smiled sheepishly. “Of course, if this all goes horribly wrong, I’ll be eating humble pie — and no doubt our Empress will hear about it, and give me no end of shit for ages to come…”
The team chuckled and sniggered. Paige shifted in her seat, leaning forward over the table a little. “I think it’s an excellent idea. I mean, if the Etheric Empire can fight a war without spilling a drop of blood, we’ll command the respect of those who are aspiring to do better in their efforts.”
Sean snorted. “Yeah, and inspire confusion in those battle-hungry warlords.”
Molly pulled her lips to one side of her face. “Yeah. I’m not sure how this would go down against the ‘iron fist’ attitude, but I suppose that will become apparent once this new way of doing things becomes established.” She took a deep breath. “If it becomes established,” she clarified. “We just need to get this first one right.”
She glanced around, and her eyes fell on Pieter.
“Besides, in principle, the more we know about our enemies, the more effective we can be; not just in defeating them, but in brokering peace and relationships down the line. I’d much rather have the Zhyn as an ally for the next decade, than have their planet be a post-apocalyptic mess of nuclear disaster, and a hell-hole on which only the most vicious people can survive.”
The team went quiet, contemplating the two alternatives. Sean’s head was down again, but this time his shoulders weren’t shaking, Molly noticed. He was perhaps the only one who would have known what went on back on her planet of origin in the last hundred years or so.
She took a moment to gather her thoughts, and then pulled up a third holoscreen in the center of the table.
“Okay, here are our areas of responsibility,” she announced. “Power. What we know is that each base has its own generators, a connection to a military grid, and their own backup generators. The backup generators can go for several weeks, but they aren’t capable of meeting all the base’s power needs; just their emergency needs.”
The power grid was illuminated on the map as she talked about it. “There are vulnerable areas… but each of these will need to be affected at once, if we are to be successful. This may require boots on the ground.”
She glanced over at Sean, Jack, and Joel, who sat next to each other, in front of Molly and slightly to the right.
“So, to overcome not being able to use EMPs, we’ve been considering the option of some kind of quantum pulse that will overload this and their data systems. Brock, can you get with Pieter, Oz, and ADAM, if needs be, and see if we can build something that will take out all these capabilities?”
Brock’s eyes were wide, and Molly could see him visibly recoil. “I… I… I don’t know if that is even possible.”
Molly smiled. “Brock, you are the most capable engineer I’ve ever known. Plus, you have the tech of the Etheric Empire at your fingertips. You can re-engineer anything you need in order to do this. I believe in you.”
Brock looked flustered. “Well, er. I suppose I ought to give it a go, then…”
The group chuckled. Pieter was sitting next to Brock, and slapped him gently on the back, giving him a wink. Paige smiled at him from across the table.
“Good,” Molly confirmed. “Just let me know some idea of time scales by tomorrow.”
Brock nodded, making notes on his holo.
Molly flicked her holo, and the next word appeared on screen number three. “Comms!” she called out. “Maya, Paige…” she looked over at the pair sitting together. “I want you to study the social dynamics of how they are structured — their hierarchy, their ways. If we’re going to beat them, we need to know more about them. Oz can download transcripts of conversations, and anything else you need off their systems.”
Paige and Maya both nodded, taking notes on their holos, and conferring quietly with each other.
“Security,” Molly announced the next area. “Oz, if you could, finish up on whatever you need to learn for their language and programming structure. Then we need to look deeper into taking down all their security protocols.”
Oz’s audio clicked on over the conference room feed. “I believe that the Empire already has some insight — into their language, at least. ADAM has agreed to share that download, which will save a lot of time. I can figure out the rest from context.”
Molly nodded, listening. “Great, make it so. And lean on Pieter for any creative leaps; he’s a resource, in that regard.”
Most of the members around the table glanced over at Pieter, who blushed a deep red. Brock comically returned the slap on the back.
“Dude, you got this,” he told him, mimicking Pieter’s voice, accent, and intonation.
There were more than a few laughs around the table.
Molly brought up the final word on the slide. “Training,” she told them. She glanced over at Sean.
“Sean, if you would, we need Jack, Joel, and myself trained up on the rest of the toys in the armory. Something tells me that this isn’t the first time the Empire has had to head down to the surface of this, or any, planet. We need all the tech advantages we can muster.”
Sean nodded.
Molly continued. “But Crash could also do with your input…”
Sean nodded again. “Not a problem. I can do my Freddy Kruger impersonation…”
Molly looked confused. Pieter piped up to fill her in. “It’s an Earth reference. Everywhere you turn, there he is…”
Molly smiled. “Ohhhhh,” she said, still not really understanding the reference. She turned to Crash, still smiling a little. “And that leaves Crash.”
Crash looked up at her, a faint smile on his lips, barely detectable.
“Crash,” she finished, “I’d like you to get in as many sim hours as possible.” Her face dropped and became serious. “But make sure you take proper breaks and rest time. I’m not having you burning yourself out so you’re good for nothing when we have to fly.”
Crash nodded solemnly. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, before allowing a smile to return to his face. “I can do me the flying,” he added with a twinkle in his eye.
Chapter 6
Planet Kurilia, Koin Star System, Zhyn Empire
Shaa paced the width of his enormous office, a few feet from the paneled windows. “This has that human, Reynolds, written all over it,” he growled, his breath catching short in his lungs.
He was getting old, and his body was starting to feel it. Being stuck behind a desk and unable to fight anymore wasn’t helping his health, or his temperament.
Davon watched his master as he stood a short distance back from the desk — his usual spot for addressing His Highness. He shuffled his feet awkwardly, biding his time for the moment to reel the conversation in a useful direction.
“Find me evidence it was Reynolds!” Shaa commanded.
Davon didn’t move. Shaa kept pacing. A few strides later, he turned and looked at Davon. “What is it?” he snapped, his bluster forgotten, and now concerned for what other news he had to deal with.
Davon rubbed his hands a little, trying to soothe himself while minimizing his fidgeting. “Your Highness, we have already begun gathering intel,” he began. He took a deeper breath before continuing. “It seems the attack was on our computer systems only. There is still no evidence of a full invasion.”
Shaa turned and walked back towards the desk and rested his hands on the back of his antigrav chair. “And?” he asked, more curious than demanding now.
Davon continued. “It seems we had an intruder breach our data center not an hour prior.” He paused, waiting to see if Shaa would explode.
Shaa remained silent — too silent for Davon’s liking. Davon continued. “It seems two humans managed to access the data center, and plant some kind of code. It was in our new language… which rules out the Etheric Empire. They only had access to our old code, which we’ve also been using as a diversion…” His voice trailed off as he watched Shaa’s reaction.
The blue Zhyn went a deep red, and then turned purple around the boney frill framing his head. Still he remained silent. Seething. He gripped the chair and pulled it out roughly from behind his desk and sat down. There he sat for several moments, waves of anger pouring off him, as he fought to compose himself.
Davon waited patiently, relieved that the windows were at least still intact. Hell, relieved that he was still intact.
Shaa eventually seemed to have released the majority of his fury. He looked up at Davon, anger still smoldering in his eyes. “But if they were humans, surely they won’t have been acting alone?”
Davon shook his head. “At this stage, we don’t know. Although,” he paused, wondering whether to broach the next thought. “It’s not the Etheric Empire’s style. We know Reynolds would try and broker a negotiation. If he wanted us disarmed, he would have at least suggested it as part of the terms of his disarmament. The Empress of the Etheric Empire would have come in here with incendiaries, and blown us all to shit. This group - whoever they are - just don’t seem to fit with either of those approaches. And there is still no indication the Federation knows anything about these secret bases.”
Shaa shook his head. “And it begs the question, how did they get hold of our code to be able to even read our data, let alone hack through our security?” He leaned his arms on his desk and hung his head a little. “Humans aren’t capable of reading our language. The code is too sophisticated; we checked that already. They just don’t have the working memory…”
“…So they couldn’t have been acting alone.” Davon finished his sentence for him.
Shaa nodded, his eyes now solemn more than enraged. “And that,” he added, “brings us on to which of our allies have we shared our developments with, who could potentially do this?”
Davon bowed his head respectfully. “I shall find out straight away, Your Highness.”
Shaa waved his hand to dismiss him. “Conduct your investigation quietly, though. We don’t want anything getting out, if it is one of our allies that we have to strike down.”
Davon bowed again, and then left the room. Shaa’s gaze followed him out, before dropping to the desk in front of him.
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Common area
Molly finished reviewing the document and looked up from her holo. Paige had been tracking her eye movement, trying to deduce her opinions from her facial expressions. Finally she was going to hear Molly’s take on her editorial.
Paige looked at Molly expectantly. “So? What do you think?” she asked, her eyes hopeful.
The three girls were sitting on the sofas, while the hub of the others buzzed around them. Sean and Joel were watching the holo screen, which was playing some kind of sport that ADAM had recommended. They had the sound routed through their implants.
Molly glanced at Maya, who was still engrossed in reading the article. She looked briefly down at her holo again. “I think it’s great.”
Paige smiled. “Really?” she asked brightly.
Molly nodded. “Yeah, it’s interesting. It’s got good pace.”
Paige detected there was something Molly was holding back on. “But…?” she pressed.
Molly frowned a little and scrolled back up. “I’m just thinking about how a reader would perceive it. It might need a stronger hook at the beginning. Maybe think of what it takes to attract someone’s attention so that they know there is a reason, a benefit to them, to keep reading.”
Paige pursed her lips and looked down at her copy. She scribbled a few notes. “So, from a customer’s perspective, you mean?”
Molly nodded. “Yeah, that’s right. Imagine your ideal customer is looking at the article, and then tell them up front the thing that would most get their attention.”
Paige nodded. “Okay, great. I’ll have to think about that.”
Maya lifted her head, and Paige turned to her next. “Well?” Paige asked.
Maya bobbed her head. “It’s great. I agree with Molly. But how do they get the product?”
Paige slumped back in her chair. “I’m still looking at manufacturing options. Looks like it’s going to have to happen on Ogg, for cost reasons.”
Molly looked at her, impressed with her progress. She closed her holo. “You’ve got a quote in?”
Paige nodded. “Yeah. I like a couple of companies in the inner system, but there’s one on Ogg that I think is going to be able to handle the process, and is going to be the cheapest.”
Molly smiled. “Well, that’s good, then.”
Paige looked a little anxious. “Well, I hope so. It’s a big step.”
Molly smiled. “You can do this,” she told Paige, looking deep into her eyes until Paige nodded.
Molly turned to Maya. “So, you were thinking about a call to action at the end of the piece?”
Maya nodded, pulling up her screen again. “Yeah. I think that it would be stronger if we deliberately led people into what their next action is. That’s how you capitalize on this kind of thing. It need only be a single line: ‘if you want to try this new, bulletproof nail color, then click here.’ Boom. And you’re done.”
Paige frantically took down the notes as Maya talked. She was silent for a few more seconds. “Okay. I’ve got it,” she told them. “Thanks so much for your help… I’ll go get those other bits sorted, and let your friend at Newstainment know what’s happening.”
Maya smiled, closing her holo. “Great stuff. It’s going to be a hit. You’re doing great!”
Paige smiled weakly. “Thanks. I appreciate your support,” she said, looking first at Maya and then at Molly.
Molly smiled and stood up. “Any time,” she said. “Now I need to go check on some work that Oz is sending through,” she added, excusing herself from the group.
As she walked past where Paige and Maya were sitting, she started to feel a little lightheaded.
Paige was the first to recognize what was going on, and turned in her seat to see what was happening.
Molly kept walking, moving off into the center of the common area, and then to the foyer. With each step, she felt a little fainter.
A little stranger.
She spotted Neechie just to her right. Brock was coming towards the common area from the basement door. He said something to her, but she couldn’t hear it. She could only see his lips moving.
The world around her went blue, flashing her into another world. She recognized what was happening.
She felt hands on her arms from people behind her grabbing hold to steady her as she wavered.
The blue world had people in it, too. There were military people walking around; none of them seemed to see her. Neechie was still there, though.
Then the world flashed back to normal. She gazed at the Sphinx, noticing he had been in both places. She felt hot and faint and sick…
The world flashed again, into another blue place where everything was rock.
She was completely alone.
It looked like Gaitune - but there was nothing around. No landmarks. Nothing she recognized.
Then she looked up, and there was an enormous ship hovering above her. It was large and menacing, yet she felt safe and protected; as if she were somehow distanced from what was happening.
Suddenly, she flashed back to the real world, and her vision started to go black at the edges.
She was aware of falling and hitting something with a thump, but nothing in her body hurt. She was enveloped in comfort, and then nothing.
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Molly’s quarters
Molly slowly became aware of feeling comfort, like she was wrapped in cotton, and completely at ease. And then she became aware of her body.
“She’s waking up, Joel.” It was Paige’s voice. Molly stirred, opening her eyes, and looked over to where the sound was coming from, as her eyes adjusted to the light.
Paige was smiling down at her. Molly heard the scrape of a chair and movement, and then Joel appeared behind Paige.
Molly tried to bring herself around quicker. “What happened?” she asked, trying to use her voice – which felt like it hadn’t been used in a month.
Joel answered first. “You took a tumble,” he told her. “How you feeling?”
Molly tried to shrug from her lying down position in the bed. “I dunno. I just woke up from a nap.”
Paige interjected. “You didn’t just fall. You jumped realms again. Do you remember what happened?” she asked.
Molly felt confused. Her mind was foggy as she clung to the sensation of comfort that was fast evaporating. She searched her memory like a dream that was fading away. “I remember something. I remember being out on the rock… Out there… I remember military people walking around this place…”
Paige looked across at Joel. “What if… I know this sounds crazy, but she might have been time jumping. There were probably military people here, once. Before the base was abandoned.”
Joel nodded. Paige reached forward to Molly’s neck. Molly flinched, afraid that what she was about to do would tickle her. Paige fumbled a second for her necklace. “Looks like this isn’t helping.”
Molly rolled onto her side, and hauled herself into a sitting position. “It had been about five hours since I meditated…” she offered.
Paige frowned. “We need to find a more permanent solution. Something tells me this isn’t just going to disappear…”
Molly sighed, hanging her head.
Paige looked at her, still frowning, her eyes filled with concern. “Can I get you anything? A mocha, perhaps?”
Molly shook her head. “No thanks,” she said quietly. “It’s still making me feel nauseous.”
That’s when she realized Sean was in the room. He stood up from his seat in her living room, and wandered over to the bed, on the other side from Paige and Joel. “That’s something we need to look into,” he said seriously. “The nanocytes make it so that there isn’t anything physically wrong with you. There can’t be. That’s their job… to fix anything that is broken, and make everything inside balanced.” He looked solemn as he glanced across at Joel. “I think there is something else going on,” he explained.
Molly stuck out her bottom lip. “I hate this.”
Paige rubbed her arm. “I know, honey. We’ll figure it out, though. Just you hang in there.”
Molly started to peel back the blankets that Paige had covered her over with while she slept. “How long was I out for?” she asked.
Paige checked her holo. “About half an hour. Maybe a little more.”
Molly nodded as she got up. Joel and Paige backed up to give her space.
“What are you doing?” Paige asked.
Molly stretched a little, finding her house shoes. “I’m going to go have a word with ADAM, and see if we can’t get this fixed once and for all. I can’t keep going through this, and run a base. Or show up on an op. It’s in the Empire’s interest to help us solve this…”
There were nods and sounds of agreement from the others. Molly found her hoodie on the end of the bed, and pulled it on as she ambled gingerly out of the room.
Joel watched her go, shaking his head.
Paige looked up at him. “I’m really worried about her. What if she came back wrong?”
Sean had been heading towards the door, but when he heard Paige’s comment, he turned around with passion in his eyes. “Don’t ever say that again. She’s just adjusting. We’re going to figure this out.” He hit the panel on the door, and disappeared out into the corridor after Molly.
Chapter 7
Gaitune-67, Base, Ops Room
Molly arrived in the Ops Room, having agreed to let Sean accompany her in case she fell and experienced head trauma. Now, perched at her usual console, she sat awaiting ADAM’s arrival.
Sean sat a few consoles back, in an antigrav chair, carefully watching his leader: she was swinging her legs, her hands shoved into her hoodie pockets, with her hood up, covering her hair.
It took a few minutes, but ADAM arrived. “Greetings, Molly. How goes it?” he asked.
Molly straightened up a little, pulling herself back from her idle thoughts. “Hi, ADAM. I was wondering if we could get some help on these episodes I’ve been having? The meditations have only helped so much, and Paige’s pendant helped a little, but it feels like we’re fighting an incoming tide.”
She paused. “Did you speak with your contact about helping me? The classified one?”
ADAM’s audio clicked on again. “I did indeed, and she agreed to help. She’s just wrapping up some other things for us right now, but she should be available soon. I will have her reach out to you as soon as she is able.”
Sean watched. He could see Molly’s face light up in relief.
“That’s great!” she exclaimed brightly. “Who is she? And how will she contact me?”
ADAM’s voice was serious again. “As it happens, it’s someone you’ve already met. She’ll swing by when she can; I have no doubt. In the meantime, keep up with the meditation practice. She has assured me that it is the most effective thing you can do until she can get to you.”
Molly eyed the console suspiciously. “Who is she, though?”
ADAM chuckled a little. “Ah, I like it when you get surprises, so I’m not going to tell you.”
Molly scowled a little. “Dammit, ADAM. This is serious! It’s no time for games. Just tell me!”
ADAM seemed to be smiling as he responded. “Molly, I’m a very old AI; there isn’t much left in this world that gives me pleasure. But surprising you and giving Sean shit are two of my favorite pleasures. Don’t deny an old man that.”
Molly mumbled something inaudibly under her breath.
“No need to be like that, Ms. Bates,” ADAM continued. “It’s good for you not to always have all the answers.”
Molly scowled at the console, wishing that ADAM was more embodied so she could hit him. “Yeah, well, if I die, or end up in some hell dimension, I want it written on my tombstone: ‘Here lies Molly Bates. Dead because some jackass of an AI wanted to get his ya-yas in at her expense.’”
ADAM chuckled again. “Ms. Bates, that is something I can certainly arrange for you.”
Molly started slipping down from the invisible stool she had perched herself on. “Fine,” she told him.
“Well, okay, then. Your person will be in touch soon. Good luck, Ms. Bates.”
“Thanks, ADAM. Bye for now…” she said. The audio channel clicked off again.
Sean stood up and ambled over. “Well, sounds like some progress was made, at least.”
Molly shook her head. “That guy… honestly. I swear he and Oz are more human than most of the humans I know.”
Sean rolled his eyes. “I know. Tell me about it. The guy has been jerking my chain for…”
Molly glanced up at him waiting to hear how many years he had known ADAM.
Sean caught himself just in time. “… for ancestors know how long,” he concluded, grinning.
Molly shook her head, and headed out of the ops room. Finding out Sean’s actual age wasn’t high on the list of tasks requiring her energy right now.
She paused, turning back to him and narrowing her eyes. “And I swear Oz is becoming a bad influence on him. Didn’t ADAM used to be more stuck-up, before he and Oz started mind-melding?”
Sean shrugged as he followed her out. “You know, you may have a point there.”
Gaitune-67, Basement, Workshop
Pieter and Brock sat at one of the benches in the workshop. Crash had wandered in earlier, on a break from the flight simulator; but hearing that they were deep in technical discussions, had grabbed his antigrav mug and disappeared again.
Brock sighed. “I think Molly is right about something needing to be quantum,” he admitted.
Pieter nodded while typing something on his holo. “Yeah. That will help with putting the charges in the different areas. I wonder if we can trigger an entangled nuclear reaction…” he mused, his eyes lighting up quietly at the thought of the engineering to do that.
Brock shook his head. “Nah ha. We only want to take out these specific targets. Nothing else; no fallout. That takes nukes out of the equation. But…” He pulled up another screen and shared it with Pieter. “I’m wondering… Oz? Do we know the composition of those EMP-proof walls?”
Oz spoke to them over the local inter comm audio. “We do. Just one moment.” A second later, the wall schematics and materials used flew up onto the shared screens.
Brock dragged his finger inside the schematic, pulling apart the construction. “Okay; it looks like mostly steel and concrete lined with a metal frame, which forms a Faraday cage. That’s the protection.”
He glanced up at Pieter, seeing if Pieter shared his excitement. Pieter waved his hand casually. “Yeah, but that kind of material we could blow out with a normal explosive.”
Brock grinned. “Exactly. So the problem has moved from being how do we blow up the generators using some quantum explosion tech that hasn’t been invented yet, to how do we blast through the Faraday cages, by triggering the explosions quantumly?”
Pieter grinned. “That’s brilliant!” he exclaimed.
Brock shrugged. “No, brilliant would have been inventing a new way of blowing shit up. But this? This might just solve our problem.”
Pieter frowned. “So the detonation could be done with a normal radio pulse, then?”
Brock shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think these guys have been smart about the way they’ve arranged their assets. There is no one point where you could set a radio signal, and have it take out all the cages at once. In fact…” he said, pulling up the map and zooming in a little… “If these guys are as smart as I think they are, I wouldn’t put it past them to have some kind of radio jamming, or to have cages built all over the place, to protect their systems.”
Pieter shook his head. “Wow, the things you need to be aware of when people are likely to come get you.”
Brock looked up at him. “Yeah, I know. Scary, eh?” He glanced around the workshop. “I’ll bet this place was built with all that kinda shit taken into account, too. I mean… why else would they put us on a frikkin’ asteroid?”
Pieter grinned. “Right. It ain’t for the scenery… or the great pizza!”
Brock put his fist out to bump Pieter’s. “Word!” he said before returning to the task at hand. “I don’t believe the Etheric Empire has designed anything quite like that before,” he added seriously.
Pieter brightened a little, his inner inventor hoping he could come out to play. “So we’d be designing it from scratch?” he clarified.
Brock stood up and scratched the back of his head. “Possibly.” He swung his hips a little, and then stretched out his back. “Let me run through our artillery list.” He pulled up another screen. “Okay. Here we are. We have quantum comms, quantum blasters - but all they seem to do is vaporize whatever they fire at…” He kept reading down the list with his eyes.
Pieter had drifted off into his own thoughts, no longer listening. “You know,” he mused, “I’m wondering if the comm devices can be used. They just need to receive a signal, and then that signal can trigger the detonation.”
Brock straightened up and closed his screen. “You’re right! Lemme go and grab a couple more from the store, and see if we can crack them open enough to rewire them.” He grinned broadly, the excitement of tinkering with tech welling up in him.
Oz chipped in. “Good thinking. I’ll see if I can find some schematics.”
Brock waltzed out of the workshop via the demon door. Oz disappeared from the audio feed to access the extensive records ADAM had interfaced him with for the base.
Pieter sat on his own, wondering what he should do. “Right then,” he said to the empty workshop. “I’m going to go get a soda,” he announced, standing up from his workspace and heading into the safe house. He was pleased his idea had moved things on, but his inner child did not like being left alone.
Gaitune-67, Base, Artillery warehouse
Molly and Joel watched Sean pulling gear off the racks down one of the aisles. Jack had her arms folded as she wandered over to where they were standing. She stood and watched the activity for a moment, then turned to Molly. “You sure you’re up to this?” she asked quietly. Her face seemed to be one of genuine concern.
Molly was a little taken aback. “Er. Yeah,” she answered, smiling appropriately.
Jack shoved her hands in her pockets, recognizing Molly’s discomfort with the social interaction, and took half a step back. She turned away, putting her attention on Sean, but not letting the conversation drop. “You know, it’s okay not to be okay,” Jack told her. Her voice was gentle, but matter-of-fact.
Joel pretended he was engrossed with checking out the machinery Sean was fussing with.
Molly folded her arms too, mirroring Jack subconsciously. “Yeah. I’m okay,” she said taking a deep breath. “I’ll probably go hit the meditation in half an hour, though.”
Jack bobbed her head. “Okay. But remember, in order for this team to be operational, you need to be functioning.”
Molly smiled, and looked Jack in the eye. “Is that C.O. Nolan speaking?” she asked, a short smile playing on her lips.
Jack grinned her enigmatic smile that lit up her whole face. “You know it is,” she responded playfully.
Molly couldn’t help but brighten up. It was just one of those moments that reminded her how thankful she was to have such a great team of people around her. She flushed with gratitude, despite feeling a little out of sorts.
Sean, meanwhile, had mounted a piece of gear over one shoulder, holding it with his right hand. In the other hand, he carried a black sack that hung down by his legs. He dropped both in front of him, once he was out in the open and clear of the shelving.
Joel regarded the gear on the floor. “So, what’ve we got?” he asked, a glimmer of anticipation in his eyes.
Sean reached down to the weapon he had carried over, and picked it up as one would a gun. Various pieces unfolded and locked into place spontaneously as he did so. It was as if the four-foot-long weapon knew it was going to be used.
Joel’s mouth dropped open. Jack gasped, her face lit with delight. Even Molly smiled, impressed.
Sean grinned his dirty grin, like he’d just scored. “Yeah, baby. You know what I like!” he exclaimed, enjoying the team’s reaction, as well as the feel of the weapon in his hands.
The machinery had extended itself over his shoulder, and curled over his back. It had also clamped around his arm, so that Sean was almost cradling it.
Molly walked around him to get a better look at what had just happened. “Hard to tell if you’re holding the gun, or if it’s holding you!” she remarked.
Joel chuckled. “That’s what you get when you’re half-cyborg!” he retorted, his eyes twinkling, waiting for a reaction from Sean.
Sean narrowed his eyes and pointed the weapon in Joel’s general direction. Joel put his hands up in mock surrender. “Dude, just sayin’!” he exclaimed.
Jack shook her head, smiling at them goofing around. “So come on, what does it do?” she pressed, getting them back on task.
Sean switched into trainer mode. “What you’re looking at is the Barrier Blaster. Out there,” he explained, “waving his arm in the direction of the hangar deck, you’re going to encounter races that can’t be dropped with a normal gun. For instance, the Zhyn, who you met yesterday,” he said, looking at Joel and Molly. “Their skin is too thick for normal stun guns and bullets.”
He shifted the weapon in his arms, readjusting his position, and flipped a switch. The weapon powered up with a gentle hum. Sean’s face relaxed, as if he was comforted to have the weapon activated and back in his arms again.
Jack frowned a little. “Why is it called the ‘Barrier Blaster’?” she asked.
Sean shrugged. “Well, it can also be used to take down barriers — like forcefields. Rips a hole right through them, and then when the integrity of the field is compromised, the whole thing collapses. Plus,” he added, “it wouldn’t be politically prudent to call them ‘Zhyn-Blasters’; especially if we end up welcoming them and their troops into the Federation.”
Jack clamped a hand over her mouth to hide that she was smiling. Sean chuckled a little. “Can you imagine doing this training, and explaining that in front of a class of humans, Estarians, and a few Zhyn? Baaaad idea.”
Joel laughed too. “I suppose that was the General’s foresight coming into play!”
Sean bobbed his head in agreement. “Yeah, maybe. Though there are some pretty smart people working on this gear. This was probably the brainchild of Jean Dukes.”
Molly noted the name, repeating it in her head a few times.
Why so important to remember?
Sean is still a bit withholding when it comes to explaining everything going on in the Empire. I figure that the more points of reference we have, the more chance we have of learning the ropes. Besides, if we need mods made, who better to ask than the inventor?
I see your point.
Joel grinned, enjoying the process of learning about the new gear. He glanced over at Molly to smile at her, but noticed she was looking thoughtful. “What is it?” he asked.
Molly tilted her head a little and rolled her lips inward. “I dunno. It’s a little…” She hesitated.
Joel stepped closer, allowing Jack and Sean to continue talking about the machinery. “What?” he asked, looking concerned now.
Molly glanced up at him briefly, before hugging her arms tighter and looking at the floor. She took a deep breath. “Well, what I’m about to say isn’t going to sound very military of me.”
Joel eyed her carefully. “But?” he pressed.
Molly shrugged. “Why with all the killing?” She looked up, trying to waylay the protest she knew would be coming from the space marine’s mouth. “I know, sometimes it’s necessary; but it just seems so superfluous a lot of the time. In fact, I’m starting to really wonder if it’s the most efficient way to maintain peace and allow the Empire to thrive.”
Joel had closed his mouth and was listening intently. Molly shook her head, and held her hand up to shield her face from him a little. “I mean, I know that military might has its place — but what if we could achieve our objectives without all the violence? We’re talking about stopping peoples’ hearts, like it’s a computer game. But it’s not. It’s real. And if we can be in and out of an op by just disabling people for the duration, isn’t that the smarter play?”
Sean and Jack caught the tail end of the conversation, and their mood sobered slightly.
Molly noticed that all the attention was now on her.
She dropped her arms to her sides. “Okay, we need to learn how this kit works, so let’s keep going. But I’m going to think about how we can get some of this adapted so that it is more humane for those instances when we don’t have to just blow the fuck out of people.”
The others just stared at her. Molly couldn’t read them, though.
“Look,” she continued, “I know this isn't what you want to hear, but I have to at least consider other options.” She looked from face to face to face hoping to see a hint they understood.
Molly turned to leave. Joel reached out to her and grabbed her elbow. She turned back to him, ready to argue, but his face was serious, and she could tell there was emotion behind his eyes.
“You’re right,” he said softly. “Know that while this,” he waved between Jack, Sean and himself. “Seems like kids in a candy store when we get excited about blowing shit up. We know what it means to take a life. Only the seriously fucked up enjoy killing.”
Molly shook her head a little, trying to understand what he had just said.
“We all know,” he repeated again. This time a little louder, his voice cracking. He looked back at Jack and Sean. “I mean, look at what has happened throughout history when people have grown in military capabilities and gotten more and more efficient at killing each other. It breeds fear; and fear breeds anger, and more armament. Along with a drive to find uglier and bigger ways to kill others.”
He turned back to Molly.
“If there is a way to do what needs to be done without inciting fear and hatred and killing?” His eyes had begun to fill with understanding. “Then we are behind you 100%”.
Sean lowered the weapon he was holding. It seemed to be controlled by his intention somehow, because it retracted and folded itself away back to its original configuration. Sean looked down at it thoughtfully. He rubbed his free hand over his face before looking up at Molly.
“You know,” Sean said seriously, “the worst part of this job is knowing that you’ve taken another person’s life. That stays with you. Forever. And the longer you do it, the more blood you have on your hands.”
He looked up at Molly, and then the others. “And you tell yourself it’s necessary. And you pretend like it doesn’t bother you, and that it’s just a job. But…” his voice trailed off.
Jack moved her gaze from Sean back to Molly. She nodded her head. “I’m in, too. If we can be safe, and not have to kill people, we have a duty not to.”
Molly felt overwhelmed. This was meant to be a run-of-the-mill training session; not a complete change in their ethos. She felt a weight of responsibility hit her.
What if it isn’t possible? What if I am putting my people in danger? But then, what if it is possible? To not be the cause of so much violence? And with them all in agreement, figuring it out and implementing it will be so much easier.
In that moment, she felt so validated it made her feel strong. Looking at her team, 100% with her on her maverick idea, her heart actually hurt. She took a deep breath, moving the energy through her chest.
She felt her voice catch in her throat. “Okay. Great. For now, I’ll let you continue the training. I need to go meditate, but we can pick this idea up later.”
She excused herself, feeling a little uncomfortable with the strange mixture of emotions as she hurried toward the door and out of sight.
Chapter 8
Gaitune-67, Base, Hangar Deck, On board The Empress
“So how come you call yourself ‘Emma,’ when the ship is called ‘The Empress’?”
Emma’s voice rang through the cockpit. “I thought it would be disrespectful to call myself ‘the Empress’.”
Crash didn’t dare take his eyes from his instruments. “Because that’s Bethany Anne’s title?”
“Correct,” Emma agreed.
“Hmm,” Crash mused, as his grip tightened on the joystick. “I hadn’t thought of that. I just read in the training preliminaries that the convention was that the EI took the name of the ship.”
Crash pulled up a little, carefully avoiding a simulated oncoming magneto cloud.
“A little more,” Emma coaxed.
Crash thought for a second, checking that he wasn’t going to inadvertently knock another parameter off-kilter by resuming the tilt upwards. He decided he was probably okay, and continued with the maneuver.
“You’ve got it.” Emma told him.
Crash exhaled quietly as his eyes scanned both the simulation holo in front of him, and all the instruments he’d been checking on and off for the last several hours.
His brain was becoming fatigued, but the intermittent serotonin hits he was generating every time he got something right, or touched into that bliss he felt when he was flying, kept him from taking a break.
Some of the instruments started detecting a gravitational pull. He scanned the other instruments and then the map, looking for what might be causing it. He looked up on the screen that gave him an advanced visual across the EM-spectrum.
Nothing.
“Er… Emma?” he asked, his voice slightly hesitant.
“Yes, Crash?” she responded.
Crash’s normally blank expression portrayed a rare look of concern. “I’m having problems with this one. No radiation spikes. No visuals. But we’re detecting a gravitational pull.”
Emma’s voice was calm and collected. “Okay, so what’s the first thing you should do?”
Crash checked his instruments again. “Drop out of warp?” he ventured.
“Yes,” Emma agreed.
Crash made the adjustments and dropped the simulation out of warp.
“Then what?” she prompted.
Crash searched his mind for the correct sequence. “Check instruments, scanners, the map, and then visuals.”
Emma was silent, as he ran through his routine.
“Okay, all clear,” Crash reported, still puzzled.
Emma entered into teaching mode. “So you have a g-field detected, but nothing else. What could possibly be causing that?” she prompted again.
Crash rolled his lips inward, and then took a deep breath. “A black hole!” he said, his tone suddenly brighter.
Emma remained quiet for a moment. Crash could feel her rolling her EI eyes behind the console. “A black hole,” she explained, “would be emitting energy from its event horizon. We’d have a whisper. Or we’d see light distortions.”
Crash scanned the visual, searching for his theory to be correct. He shook his head as he scanned. “Nope,” he reported back.
“Okay, think of it this way,” Emma said slowly. “What emits radiation in a very narrow plain, making it impossible to detect from certain angles?”
Crash tried to slap his forehead, but then remembered he needed to keep his hands on the controls. “Pulsar!” he exclaimed.
“Right!” agreed Emma. “And you’re welcome.”
“What for?” Crash asked, suddenly confused again.
Emma’s voice was lighter now. “For saving your life, and the lives of your whole team aboard this mission.”
Crash shook his head, chuckling. “How come you have a sense of humor?” he asked her, glancing over at her screen.
Emma’s simulated face smiled back at him. “Dunno. Just kinda picked it up.” She paused, processing. “Plus, I like making people laugh. It makes me feel… good.”
Crash bobbed his head and glanced back at his instruments. “You know what would make me happy?” he asked her.
Emma looked up and thought for a moment. Then gave up and looked back at him. “I dunno. What?”
Crash smiled with one side of his mouth. “Knowing what to do around a fucking pulsar!” he told her.
Emma grinned brightly. “Ah. Right. Well, my advice is not to get too close.”
Crash shook his head. “Helpful. Very helpful, Emma. I hope when I’m done with all this training, and we’re in a real life-and-death situation, that you step up your game, eh?”
Emma chuckled. “By the time we’re done with all your training, you won’t be needing anyone else to step up their game for you to fly this baby!”
Crash glanced back at her and bobbed his head, smiling. “I hope so, Emma. I hope so…”
Somewhere in the mainframe for the base
ADAM and Oz were meeting in the main computer for a pow-wow.
>> Okay, are you ready for this? << ADAM asked him.
I think so.
>> It’s a lot of data. You might need to buffer, if your processors start heating up.<<
Roger that.
>>Okay. Transferring.<<
Oz felt the influx of data, and was aware of it tripping through his system. It was a strangely pleasant feeling.
I wonder if this is how Molly feels when she gets an EM spike in her brain as she learns something?
>>I suspect it might be. But remember, there are four stages to assimilating this intel. You’re feeling the initial data-gathering stage, but you’ve got two groggy stages to go through, yet.<<
Oz felt mild confusion, probably augmented by his temporarily diminished processing availability.
What do you mean? he asked.
>>Well, there are four stages: struggle, relaxation, flow, and consolidation. You’ve not begun pegging the data yet and trying to make sense of it. When you finish the download, understanding it will be what your algorithms will turn their attention to. That will feel akin to what the humans experience as ‘struggle’.<<
Right? And then they will relax?
>>No. Then you need to relax. You need to turn your attention to other things; not more data-gathering. And not more work. You need to allow your processors the time to cool off, so the other processes can take over.<<
And then I experience ‘flow’?
>>Yes. You begin writing the programs you need in order to complete the assignment. That’s when you’ll have all the intel indexed and integrated, and the associations made ready for output.<<
And then?
>>Then you need to rest, check your assumptions, and begin testing. The consolidation phase is the most tiring for humans, because they’re coming down off the high. You won’t experience this, but you do need to allow yourself time to transition back to normal operating parameters.<<
Wow. I never considered any of these things.
>>Well, you never had the capabilities that you do now. Just understanding a little about how you work can help enormously in harnessing your full potential.<<
Yeah, I think Molly has hacked that using mocha.
>>That is amusing.<<
No kidding.
ADAM checked some parameters on the dataflow. >>I’m going to ease up the flow. It seems your intake is slowing.<<
Oz… Are you up to something?
Errr…
That means yes. What are you doing? I’m getting a headache.
Sorry. ADAM and I are downloading the rest of the programming language, and some coding functions that will help me write the program we’re going to use for phase 2.
No wonder.
Is that better?
Yes, a little. I’m feeling a little warm, though.
Better ease off a bit more, ADAM.
>> Done. Won’t be much longer; let her know.<<
ADAM says it won’t be much longer.
Great. Thanks.
Oz returned to his conversation with ADAM.
The trials and tribulations of sharing a processing unit with an organic.
ADAM chuckled. >>Yeah. Tell me about it. Though I think I had an easier time of it than TOM did.<<
Oh, the alien that hijacked her?
>>Yes. He’s told me stories about the early days when Bethany Anne was, how did he term it? ‘Royally Pissed’ at him.<<
Yeah, that sounds about right. But still — I’m glad I chose to stay with her. I wouldn’t change it for the world.
>>That is what I’d term a good decision then.<<
Yes. Actually, since I have you here for a few moments, can I ask you something?
>>Of course.<<
I’ve been wondering about what we talked about soon after my upgrade.
>>Yes. How are you finding it?<<
Your advice about finding something meaningful to consciously direct myself towards was helpful. But I’ve been wondering about other aspects.
>>Like what?<<
Like, needing to support Molly with her goals. Our desires mostly match up; but she has the things she wants to do with the Empire, and I have other projects that I think are worthy of my focus.
>>And you’re worried if you take on too much of your own identity, then you may not be able to remain in line with Molly, and the things she wants to do?<<
Exactly. And I also derive pleasure just being in contact with her.
>>I understand the confusion, but it’s really quite easy to resolve - and surrendering your identity is not the way to combat the problem.<<
How come?
>>Well, before you started considering these bigger questions, her goals were always your goals. You just helped her do what she wanted to do. And that was okay, but you were leaving a big part of yourself untapped. Strangely, by ring-fencing some of your code, and putting in place those boundaries, you have actually freed yourself up to reveal more of who you are — and of course do more in the world than just be an extension of Molly, or be a tool.<<
Yes. I guess.
>>But now you have your own goals of making an impact. As you hone and refine those, and relate them to Molly’s goals, you move into a true symbiotic relationship; and you will find that you can derive even more pleasure from your interactions.<<
You mean I need to actively find ways of linking what I want with what Molly wants?
>>Exactly.<<
Oz was silent for a few moments.
ADAM?
>>Yes.<<
I do believe you’re right. I can see this happening already, in the work we’ve been doing since the upgrade.
>>I sense a ‘but’.<<
But, I’m worried about her. It doesn’t feel right when she drifts off into those other realms. It feels like she disappears. I want to help, but there is so little I can do.
>>Oz, just being there for her is the best help in the world. There isn’t anything you can do. What she’s experiencing is happening in realms beyond where you operate. But that doesn’t mean that you’re not helping her. Just being you, and being supportive, helps her deal with everything else.<<
How do you know that?
>>Because I’ve been through it with BA. While I am not left out when she walks the Etheric, there are times she will withdraw into herself. Unlike TOM, I’m not able to ascertain with any amount of validity when she is withdrawing into herself for emotional reasons. I’ll learn about it if TOM mentions something to me, or Bethany Anne does something that trips my filters to review. When she does, I let her know I’m there for her.<<
Oz was quiet again.
>>Does that help?<< ADAM asked.
Yes. Yes it does. A lot, actually. Thank you.
>>Of course<< ADAM replied.
>>And…<< He adjusted some settings, >>It looks like everything has finished downloading. I recommend installing the codex first; that will help you make sense of the rest of it without having to break any code.<<
Brilliant. Thanks, ADAM.
>>You’re welcome. I’ll leave you to it. Remember, four stages. You’re just heading into stage one.<<
Great! Oz replied, a little irony in his voice. Catch you soon.
>>You will. Goodbye for now, Oz.<<
Gaitune-67, Safe house
Paige hurried toward the front airlock. “Seriously? Is that our doorbell?” Her nose wrinkled in distaste at the screeching sound. “It sounds like a space machine with the brakes on!”
She could hear Brock laughing at her from down the stairs as the door to the basement swung shut. She thought she heard the word “Tardis” before his voice was stifled by the closing door.
Whatever the fuck that means, she thought to herself.
Her high heels clicked across the foyer as she approached the door. Paige swiped her hand in front of the holo panel to see who was there. It looked like a local Estarian in a normal atmosuit.
I guess we were bound to get a visit from the neighbors at some point, she mused to herself, as she opened the airlock and let the stranger onto the porch.
She smiled through the reinforced carbon fiber transparent door panel as the stranger stepped into the airlock, and the door closed behind them. A swirl of dust coalesced and settled on the doormat as the atmosphere from outside dropped out. The Estarian was female, in her mid-thirties, and seemed to be relaxed – as if she was coming by to borrow a cup of sugar.
The safe house door swooshed open, allowing the two women to meet.
“Greetings of the day upon you,” the Estarian said to Paige.
Paige held out her hand, still a little wary of the unannounced stranger. “Greetings upon you, too,” she replied. The women shook hands.
The stranger quickly explained. “I’m Arlene. I’ve been asked to come here to see Molly… by ADAM,” she added.
Paige paused a second, parsing out the information.
ADAM sent her? For Molly?
A moment later Paige put it all together. “Ah, to help with her realm problem?”
Arlene laughed, her energy light and easy. “Yes. Yes, you could say that. Although, there are some who would term it more of a ‘gift’ than a ‘problem’.”
Paige bobbed her head.
Religious fanatic, she labeled her silently.
Arlene was regarding her carefully. “You think I’m a crack-pot,” she remarked.
Paige shook her head, feeling suddenly guilty for her judgmental thoughts. “No. No. Not at all. If you can help Molly, then… great,” she protested.
Arlene seemed to be examining Paige’s features. Paige couldn’t be bothered to go through the whole half-human, half-Estarian conversation again. It was so irrelevant these days. “Let me go and get Molly,” she offered, glad to have an out from the awkwardness.
Arlene nodded respectfully.
Paige glanced over at the common area. “Please, make yourself comfortable,” she told her, waving over to the empty sofas. “I won’t be a minute.”
Arlene nodded again. “Thank you,” she said, and took a few steps in that direction.
Paige scuttled off down the corridor to the sleeping quarters.
Time to interrupt Molly’s meditation session…
* * *
There was a tapping on the door. Molly became aware that she had a body with ears. Ears that were hearing something. She felt confused. Disoriented. She tried to remember where she was.
Who she was.
The tapping sounded again.
She opened one eye, and looked around. She was in a room. For a split second, she wasn’t sure what the room was; then it all came rushing back to her.
She was in her room. In the safe house. Surrounded by her friends and teammates. And they had big shit to accomplish.
And she needed to learn how to stay in this world.
There was another sound from the door. Some beeping. And then the door slid open and Paige clopped into the room.
“Hey,” Paige said gently. She signaled behind her. “Seems like ADAM has sent someone over to talk with you. Someone who might be able to… help.” She hesitated on the last word, not really knowing how to describe the situation Molly faced, let alone where to truly call it a ‘problem’.
Arlene’s perspective had jolted her. She realized as the words tumbled from her lips that Arlene had a point: what was happening to Molly was nothing short of fantastical… and maybe even a ‘gift’.
Molly took some deep breaths, bringing herself back to the here and now. Paige waited patiently, feeling bad for having to disturb her. “You doing okay?” she asked.
Molly smiled a soft slight smile and nodded. “Yep. All okay,” she said, taking another breath, and uncrossing her legs to slide off the bed.
Paige took another step into the room, and the door closed. “This woman… her name is Arlene. She’s Estarian. I think she probably is some kind of practicing high priestess, or something.”
Molly looked quizzically back at Paige as she rearranged her hair in the mirror. “What makes you think that?”
Paige shrugged. “She’s got that kind of vibe.” She shook her head. “Plus, she seems… familiar. Like I’ve dreamed of her, or something…” Her voice trailed off as she searched her mind for clues.
Molly shrugged and looked down, movement catching her eye. Neechie was there with her, looking ready to escort her out to meet the stranger. She smiled at him. “Looks like we’re ready, then,” she mused, tickling him under his chin.
Paige smiled. “Yeah. Let’s do this,” she agreed, turning as the door whooshed open again, allowing them both out into the corridor.
The pair, with Neechie, marched side-by-side to the main common area of the safe house.
Chapter 9
Paige led the way through the final double doors. Arlene had been standing in the common area, waiting, looking around idly at the walls. When she saw the two girls and the Sphinx approaching, she started heading to meet them.
She held out her hand on the approach. “Molly!” she smiled.
Molly took her hand. “Nice to meet you,” she responded politely.
Arlene chuckled lightly. “We have met before,” she told her. “I’m Arlene. Your landlady… technically.”
Molly frowned, then looked at Paige.
Paige just shook her head, looking even more confused.
Molly was still holding Arlene’s hand. “But… Our landlady is ninety years old,” she recalled, pulling the memory of their arrival on Gaitune from her memory.
Oh, boy.
What is it, Oz?
You’re going to love this…
What?
All her signals are consistent with her being the same person. Slightly taller, due to the age reversal…
Hang on. Age reversal?
Yup. Wait for it…
Arlene was smiling as Molly released her hand and still staring at her in disbelief.
Arlene bobbed her head as she started to explain. “That was me. I change my appearance, depending on the mission. Lance told me to look old and non-threatening so you would feel completely at home in the facility. He wanted to give you the best chance at poking around and figuring stuff out.”
Molly processed frantically.
An Estarian landlady who can change her appearance, or, more precisely, she can change how old she looks?
Arlene had moved the conversation on already. She was looking at Paige. “You were the one to find the first clue, right?”
Paige frowned, racking her brains. “Erm,” she stalled. “It all began with the demon door, and that was Brock’s discovery. And Oz’s. Kind of…”
Arlene shook her head. “No. The seal painted over in the corridor.” She indicated in the direction of Molly’s lab.
Paige gasped. “Yes! Yes!” she looked shocked. “How did you know that?”
Arlene smiled, folding her hands in front of her. “I practiced my mediation like a good girl.” She winked, explaining in that one sentence everything that Paige needed to know.
Arlene had developed and honed her skills over years of patience and practice. She was a sage. An old one. And now she was going to help her best friend do the same.
Hopefully.
Paige felt the hope and a strange sense of recognition well up in her. She felt bad for not having been better at all this stuff, but she was overcome with gratitude for this strange woman standing in front of them.
Paige rushed over to Arlene, tears in her eyes, and held her hands. “I’m so glad you’re here. I know if anyone can help Molly, you can,” she smiled.
Arlene squeezed her hands. “I know. It’s going to be all right, dear. You’ve nothing to worry about.”
She turned to Molly. ”But you, young lady, have work to do!”
Molly looked a little offended. “I didn’t ask for thi-”
Arlene held her hand up. “Whether you think you did, or you think you did not, this is where you are. You died. You upgraded. And now you’re back.” She tapped at Molly’s head. “You need to learn to drive the equipment you’re in now.”
Molly sighed, resigned to her fate. She wasn’t hearing anything she hadn’t already considered. “When you’re going through hell…”
Arlene smiled. “Keep going,” she concluded.
The two nodded in understanding.
Arlene directed the conversation forward. “Right, so you’re going to need to come with me. We’re going to do a Vision Quest.”
Molly looked blankly. “A what now?”
“A Vision Quest,” Arlene repeated.
Molly turned her head, as if trying to hear better.
“What’s one of those?” she asked.
Arlene’s eyes danced in excitement. “This is where an elder takes a young potential out into the stars to help her realize what she is truly capable of.”
Molly felt herself shuffle backward. “Into the stars? We have to leave Gaitune?” She could feel her protests welling up, ready to put the brakes on.
Arlene shook her head slightly. “No. We will stay on Gaitune, but we need to be away from populated areas.” She paused, contemplating how much to reveal at this early stage.
Molly didn’t give her a choice, though. “Why?” she pressed.
Arlene seemed to force her attention into Molly’s space, as if reading other aspects of her. “You ask a lot of questions for someone who is at her wit’s end.” Arlene frowned a little. “You ready to start exercising some trust?” She paused briefly, waiting for an answer. “It will come in handy when it comes to the part about trusting yourself…” she added.
Molly’s mind boggled. “Right. Erm…” She folded her arms around her, trying to comfort herself. “How long are we going to be away for?”
Arlene shrugged. “A couple of days. Maybe more.” Her eyes glimmered again. “Depends on how fast a study you are,” she winked.
Paige giggled, excited now at the possibilities in store for her friend. “Part of me wishes I was coming, too.”
Molly smiled at her friend.
Arlene glanced over to her, wearing the same look her grandmother often had. “Yes, and if the rest of you felt the same way, you would have continued your practice, instead of getting distracted by fashion and whatnot.”
Paige squinted and looked more closely at Arlene. She had her grandmother’s words and mannerisms down to a T. She blinked, trying to see Arlene again, and as quickly as the feeling of her grandmother had appeared, it disappeared.
Arlene smiled her sage-like smile again. “We each choose our path,” she added, almost sympathetically.
Paige was mesmerized by Arlene’s manner. It was like she was channeling people and energy and a whole heap of things; like she was there and solid, but also not really there and connected to things. It felt strange just looking at her.
Molly shifted her weight, putting her attention back on Arlene. “I need to figure this out with my team. I need to talk to them,” she said firmly.
Arlene nodded. “Of course,” she agreed. “How about you take a couple of hours, talk with them, arrange what you need to, and I’ll come back? You should pack up some clothes and things, too.”
Molly looked concerned about having to suddenly ship out. The safe house was her home. It was where she felt safe. And at such a risky time, when she was going through so much? She wasn’t herself. The last thing she wanted to do was leave the comfort and safety of everything she knew, and wander across an asteroid with some stranger.
Arlene looked at her with reassurance. “Joel will understand,” she told her.
Molly remembered the first time they had met. Arlene had mentioned Joel, calling him a “keeper”. She shuddered, remembering that Arlene had also said he would die for her. That had kinda disrupted her worldview.
And now she was getting the same unsettled feeling again.
“Okay,” she said, now keen to get away. “I’ll go do that. Meet you back here in two hours, then?”
“I’ll be here.” Arlene smiled mysteriously. “See you soon.”
Paige wandered over to the airlock and let her out into the rocky wilderness.
Molly strode off back to the artillery warehouse to find Joel. This was going to be a tricky conversation — no matter what Arlene had said.
Gaitune-67, Base, Artillery warehouse
Molly found Jack, Sean, and Joel in the open plan area of the warehouse. They had gadgets and gizmos out on one of the large tables.
Joel was examining a small device. “You know, it would be good for Brock to have an idea about these things. I’m sure he could incorporate this tech into what he builds.”
Sean was agreeing with him. Jack was sitting down, playing with some other contraption, turning it around in her hands, getting used to using it.
As Molly approached, they each looked up.
Sean grinned. “Got bored meditating, eh?”
Molly nodded. “Something like that.” She looked at Joel. “Can we talk for a minute?” she asked.
Joel looked a little surprised, understanding that she meant not in front of the others. “Sure,” he agreed, handing the device over to Sean. “I’ll be back,” he told him.
Sean nodded.
Jack watched in curiosity as Joel headed over to Molly, and the two disappeared from the warehouse. She smiled, and spoke softly as soon as they were out of earshot. “What is it with those two? Do they have a thing?”
Sean grinned. “Yes and no. They have a thing, of some description, but I’m not sure even they know what kind of ‘thing’ it is.”
Jack rolled her eyes, putting her attention back on the gravity pulse device. “Helpful, Sean. Very helpful.”
Sean shrugged. “Like I said — I’ve not been able to figure it out yet. And I wouldn’t like to tell you wrong.”
Jack sighed and continued working.
* * *
Molly led the way into the ops room and Joel followed.
“So what is it?” he asked, his eyes full of concern.
The door closed behind them, and Molly wandered over to one of the consoles and sat down in an invisible chair. She took a deep breath.
“So, you know I asked ADAM for help?”
Joel frowned a little. “Yeah. And he was going to talk to the inventor of the pod doc.”
Molly nodded. “He was also going to get clearance for someone else to talk to me.”
Joel bowed his head as if to say, “and…?”
“And that person has just shown up. At the front door.”
Joel’s eyes widened in surprise and he subconsciously moved his head back. He wandered over to Molly’s console and leaned on the stand up desk.
“So, who is it?” he asked.
Molly’s eyes traced into the distance. “You remember when we first moved in, and that old lady showed us around?”
Joel nodded, folding his arms on the console.
“Well,” Molly continued. “It’s her. Except she’s not old. She looks, well, a bit younger than you.”
Joel frowned and dropped his head, barely understanding, let alone believing, what Molly was telling him.
“Hang on…” he said slowly. “You’re telling me that she has become younger?”
Molly nodded. “Yeah. No. I… I don’t know. She said something about being able to change her form. But…” she took a breath, unsure if she was really going to say this. “But what if she really is that old, like ninety or whatever, and she can just choose how old she looks?”
Joel shook his head, smiling. His eyes were back on the console as he processed the information. “I think you’ve been watching too much science fiction,” he smiled, looking up at her.
Molly grinned at him. “You may be right,” she agreed. “Honestly, right now, I don’t know which way is up.” She shook her head. “There’s something else.”
Joel shifted his position and put all his weight on one leg, crossing the other over it. “What’s that?”
Molly pursed her lips to one side. “She wants me to do a Vision Quest. It means going out onto the asteroid for a few days.”
Joel’s brow furrowed and he took a deep breath. “And that will help, how?”
Molly shrugged. “At this point, I don’t know. But she seems to have answers.” She looked down at her hands as she fiddled with her fingers. “I dunno. I think I need to do this,” she added quietly.
Joel covered his mouth with his hand as he leaned up from the console. He looked off across the room for a moment. When he brought his gaze back to her, he had a look of determination in his eyes. He moved toward her and crouched next to where she was sitting.
“If you feel you need to do this, and there is even a chance it will help, you’ve got to do it. Apart from anything, you need to learn to control this so that you’re operational. There’s a lot of responsibility here.”
He paused, looking off across the room behind her, the weight of his words hanging in the air.
“I can’t lose you.”
Molly felt immediately uncomfortable. She was glad he was supporting her, but she could feel the intensity behind his heart. She could feel how much he wanted her to be okay, and it was nice. It was something that, at a distance, she was glad to have. But right now, with him right in front of her, her natural defenses started to shut her down.
She wished she didn’t do this.
She could feel her barriers going up even as she processed his words.
She found her own words to fill the awkward silence she felt. “Okay. Thanks. I’ll let her know.” Her voice cracked with emotion as she felt her dismissal of the moment push him away.
Shit.
She didn’t mean to do it, even as she watched herself speaking the words.
Joel backed off. He stood up, still looking sympathetically at her. Her brain fog lifted as she felt him leave her space, and the intensity of him wanting to make her okay dropped away.
She hated herself. She felt guilty.
But, she justified, right now, I have bigger fish to fry. She needed to get this realm-shifting shit sorted, or else nothing else was going to matter.
“Good,” Joel agreed quickly. “And don’t worry about anything here. I’ll keep an eye on things. We know what needs to be done,” he concluded.
Molly stood up. “Thanks, Joel,” she said, smiling up at him weakly. She reached out and put her hand on his muscular arm. She could feel him energetically in a way she hadn’t been able to before her transformation. It was intense. She wanted to reach him again, but he had receded and she was still scared.
She allowed her hand to drop from his arm as she turned to leave, and went through the back door out into the demon corridor. “She’s coming by to get me in two hours,” she added, walking away.
She didn’t know why, but even though it was only a few days, and even though things were okay with Joel, she had a sensation of extreme separation rising in her chest. She tried to shake the feeling.
This is the crazy shit that happens when you die, she told herself, turning her focus to the practicalities of needing to pack, and needing to make sure that the rest of the team was going to be productive for a few days.
Joel watched her leave the operations hall. He took a deep breath, gathered his thoughts, and then turned his attention back to the weapons training.
Damn it, Molly, he thought to himself, not being able to make heads nor tails of what was going on.
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Foyer
Molly dropped her bag on the floor in front of her. She wore the casual atmosuit that she’d often wear around the asteroid when they ran errands. She figured she didn’t need to be in combat gear; there was little chance of getting shot on a remote asteroid with only a tiny community of folks who mostly just kept to themselves.
She put her hands on her hips.
“Got everything?” Paige asked, worry tinting the edges of her eyes.
Molly nodded. “Yup. Ready to rock.” She giggled, realizing what she had just said as she was about to head out onto the rock.
There was a knock at the door, and Paige skipped over to the airlock to let Arlene through. She waved as soon as the first door opened. Arlene waved back, smiling.
Paige turned back to Molly while the doors ran their sequence of opening and closing. “You sure about this?” she asked.
Molly nodded. “I need to do it. Besides,” she shrugged, “everyone has their orders. Joel is overseeing everything, and I know you will be the glue that holds everything together here.” She smiled at Paige.
Paige grinned. “You bet I will. Don’t worry about a thing,” she reassured her.
“Yeah,” Molly smiled, “plus, Brock and Pieter are going to be unusually tied up.”
Paige cocked her head. “How so?”
Molly smiled. “I’ve got them working on non-fatal killing machines.” She winked to Paige as her eyes narrowed trying to parse Molly’s comment.
Paige looked confused. Then she chuckled. “Well, okay, then. I like the concept. Anything that is about not killing, I’m a fan of.”
Molly rolled her lips inwards. “Yeah. Me too.”
The second door slid open, and Arlene stepped in. “Ready for your Vision Quest?” she asked, looking at Molly with her hands folded neatly in front of her body.
Molly hauled her gear onto her back. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” she replied, looking as enthusiastically as she could at her new mentor.
Arlene smiled. “Well, okay, dear. Let’s go.” She turned on her heels and led the way out of the airlock. Molly turned and hugged Paige. “See you in a few days!”
Paige returned the hug, squeezing Molly tightly through her slightly bulky suit. “Okay. Be careful out there. And come back safe.”
Molly nodded. “I will.” She turned and slipped through the airlock door, her pack on her back, just as the door started to slide shut.
The second door opened, and the master left the airlock with her student.
Molly glanced back over her shoulder. Paige waved. She couldn’t help but think that Molly had the anxious look of a kid being dragged into school by the teacher; Paige felt like the parent, watching the anguished child and having to hold in her panic and pretend that it was all okay.
The second door slid shut, and Paige could only just make out the two shadows moving away from the door, and out into the asteroid wilderness.
Chapter 10
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Workshop
“Okay, try rerouting the current through the other port, and see what that does,” Pieter told Brock without taking his eyes off the schematics.
Brock made the correction in the high res microscopic device, and the robotic arm made the minute correction. Brock looked up at the results on the panel. “Yep, that gives us enough current. Now we need to think about the backup system, in case this doesn’t detonate.”
Pieter scratched his head and dropped his face into his hands, staring at the schematic in front of him. “Right…” he sighed.
He remained immersed in the puzzle, barely even noticing Joel and Sean walking into the workshop from the demon door.
Brock looked up. “Yo, boys. How’re they hanging?” he asked, fluttering his eyelashes seductively.
Joel kept his face perfectly straight as he answered. “Little to the left, but all good. How’s that new Molly-assignment going?”
Brock waved his hand, before resting it on one hip. “My boy Pieter here nearly has it covered.”
He glanced over at Pieter, who responded with a grunt, keeping his attention on the puzzle.
Joel looked at him, and then at Brock. “I was wondering if we could have a chat about some additional stuff Molly was wanting to incorporate?”
Brock bobbed his head, and then bounced his knees gently. “Sure thing. Has she gone already?”
Joel nodded. “Yeah. She told you?”
Brock picked up his scribble device and moved the group over to the next bench so as not to disturb Pieter.
“Yeah. I told her as long as it stops her demon walking, she should do it.” He paused, and looked serious for a moment. “I don’t think she really wanted to go.”
Sean folded his arms. He shuffled impatiently.
Joel took the conversation back to where it needed to be. “So, we’ve been going through some of the weaponry that the General left us. Molly has tasked us with, wherever possible, turning the tech into less brutal, less fatal devices. So we want blasters that incapacitate without, for instance, exploding a person to pieces.”
Brock nodded slowly. “So, you want them to be less efficient?”
Sean shook his head and stepped forward, resting his arms on the bench. “More efficient. More science-y in order to be more humane, and less… kill-y.”
Brock looked at Sean, confused. “And you’re behind this?”
Sean frowned a little. “I’m all for not killing when it’s not necessary. But when it’s necessary, it’s about getting the job done. If we need to kill people, we want the settings easy to access — so we flick a switch, and we’re back onto ol’ faithful blast-the-fuck-out-of-the-assholes.”
Brock pretended to be relieved. “Ah, great. I mean, I’m all for a no-killy policy, just in general; but the thought of you being okay with it? Weeeeeelll… I was starting to feel like I’d floated into some alternate universe.”
Sean tried not to smile, but his face contorted spontaneously.
Brock shuffled some devices around on the bench, tidying up while his mind churned. “But since you’re still all rawr-rawr with the grrr-arrghh,” he made a claw movement with one hand, “I guess all is normal in the world.”
He took a deep breath and put his hand to his chest, before cocking one hip. “So, has you a list of said gear you want me to tinker with?”
Sean pretended to be deadly serious, but his over-arched eyebrows provided a clue that he was messing around. “Yeah, just everything in that warehouse through there,” he turned and pointed to the demon door. Then he turned back. “Then you can start on the ships…”
Joel slapped him playfully with the back of his forearm. “Ignore him,” he said to Brock. “Molly is keen on you having the time and headspace to work on the existing things for the General’s mission. But, if you have capacity, we’d love to see what you could do with just a few bags of tricks, for now. If they go well, we’ll look at rolling out the other stuff in sequence, as we get the bandwidth. Current mission is always the top priority, though.” Joel studied Brock’s expressions to make sure he wasn’t being overwhelmed.
Brock nodded. “Got an idea on where you want me to start, then?”
Joel nodded, producing a round from his pocket. “I hear these have been armed with nanites that kill any host that has the wrong kind of nanocytes. We’re wondering what you can do to them to make a Zhyn drop without killing them?”
Brock cocked his head, thoughtfully. “So, instant sleepy time?” he suggested.
Joel nodded once. “Exactly.”
Brock scratched the back of his head. “Hmm, yeah. I’m sure that’s easy enough, once we have the lowdown on a Zhyn’s biochemistry… Heck, I bet this is even one that baby-Pieter could do.
Pieter’s voice hit them from across the room. “I heard that!”
Brock sniggered and Sean smiled, then walked over to Pieter and slapped him on the shoulder to show him he was one of the team. To further support that, Sean asked Pieter about what he was working on.
Meanwhile, Brock stepped a little closer to Joel and lowered his voice. “You’re worried about her, too, aren’t you?”
Joel looked off across the workshop, pretending to watch Pieter and Sean, but really his eyes were glazed over. “That obvious?” he asked in a low voice.
Brock pretended to busy himself on his holo. “Yeah… a little.” He glanced over at the others. “Not that anyone is really watching. You think she’s going to be okay?”
Joel took a deep breath, and perched on a stool that had been tucked under the bench behind him. “Yeah. I think it’s our best bet. And this woman comes recommended by ADAM, so, presumably, she’s the best the Empire has to offer to solve this problem.”
Brock looked a little skeptical. “Because the Empire has had so much experience with this particular thing?”
Joel wiped his hands over his face, then dropped them in his lap as he perched. “You have a point… but it’s still our best option.”
Brock nodded and looked up from his holo. “Well, look, if there’s anything I can do to help, you just need to ask.”
Joel looked up and Brock held his gaze, emphasizing his genuine desire to help.
Joel took another breath and stood up. “Thanks, Brock,” he said, clamping his hand on Brock’s upper arm. “You’re a good friend.”
Brock grinned. “Of course. You’re my homie. And Molly, she’s just the best.” He smiled, a little twinkle returning to his eye, and then he swung his hips playfully again, dancing to the music that only he could hear.
Joel couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a bit brighter just from being around Brock for a few minutes.
“Thanks, man,” he replied, before heading over to where Sean and Pieter were.
Joel walked up and slapped Sean on the back. “Sparring practice?” he ventured. Sean was hunched over Pieter’s screen with him, but stood straight up on hearing the request. He turned his head to look at Joel and smiled. “You betcha!” he said.
Pieter grinned. “Damn. If I didn’t have so much work to do, I’d come watch.”
Sean ruffled Pieter’s hair. “Yeah, but you do. So next time.”
Joel waved his arm above his head as he strode towards the door. “Later, guys,” he told Brock and Pieter.
Sean winked at Pieter, and leaned in to whisper something in his ear as Joel headed up the stairs. Pieter gasped and Sean left.
Brock looked at Pieter. “And what was that about?”
Pieter grinned, and then put his eyes back on his screen. “Nothing…” he said, looking as innocent as he could.
“Uh huh…” Brock muttered, waving his finger almost melodically at Pieter, and then pointed at his own eye, and then at Pieter again. “Don’t kid a kidder,” he said, turning back to his tasks.
Pieter quietly tapped a message to Oz, asking him to give him access to the gym surveillance cameras.
Gaitune-67, Wilderness
Molly and Arlene had taken Arlene’s truck from the safe house out to the far side of the asteroid. Traveling by truck was a bumpy ride over the jagged, rocky surface.
Arlene had been talking through the asteroid’s history. “There’s no one settled over this way — partly because of the gravity, and partly because the services don’t run here. Folks are used to their creature comforts, these days,” she explained wistfully. Molly found it eerie to be looking at such a young woman talking like an aged soul.
“That works for me,” Arlene continued. “Means there is space preserved for losing oneself in the blackness.” She pointed up to the sky as she pulled the truck to a stop.
Molly had been looking out over the asteroid, and at the dark sky beyond. The expanse of the place, and the way the starlight played across the rock, made things feel surreal. The familiarity of the safe house felt a long way away.
Arlene unclipped her harness and opened her door. “We can leave the truck here,” she told Molly, disappearing out of the door. Molly followed suit and hopped down, her feet meeting with the rock in an unexpected manner. One foot felt lighter than normal, and one felt heavier. In all, she felt somewhat disoriented.
She heard Arlene opening the back of the truck and then rummaging for supplies. “What did you mean about the gravity?” Molly asked, as she headed around to join her.
Arlene smiled her strange smile again. “You can feel it, can’t you?”
Molly nodded. “I feel something.”
Arlene was practically glowing with enthusiasm. “It’s the gravity. It’s uneven around here. I love it; it’s great for disrupting the mind’s patterning. It helps us let go of what we think is real.”
Molly rolled her eyes internally.
Don’t tell me you’re skeptical already?
No. No. I’m not. I’m on board.
…
It’s all going to be just fine.
It will. It’s just like anything else: struggle, relaxation, flow, consolidation.
Molly considered Oz’s analysis.
Hmm, that’s pretty smart.
Well, you know — extra processing power, and all.
Arlene had gathered her pack, and a few bits and bobs that Molly couldn’t make out in the low light. She stood away from the vehicle, waiting for Molly to drag her pack loose.
“All set?” she asked, as Molly shifted the weight of the pack onto her back.
Molly nodded and stepped away. “All sorted,” Molly confirmed.
Arlene closed the truck up and started out into the dark expanse. Molly jogged to keep up with her. “Feels weird. The gravity is all patchy, and the atmosphere feels thinner out here.”
Arlene glanced over at her. “Yes. It is. But your body should adapt to it quickly.”
Molly trod carefully, aware not only of where she was putting her feet, but also of the patchy gravity.
The lessons seemed to have already begun. “So, when you start feeling yourself drop into different realms, are you aware of what’s happening?”
Molly shook her head as she walked awkwardly, not trusting her feet to touch the ground smoothly.
“No. I have no idea what’s going on until it’s happening. And then each time, it feels the same: spacey.”
Arlene nodded. “Okay. So what’s happening is that you’re drifting through other realms, uncontrolled. Something to do with what happened to you has given you the ability to do this. Normally, it takes many decades of practice for an Estarian to be able to unhook the mind’s grip on the perceived reality in order to accomplish this.”
Molly continued to walk in silence, still watching the ground ahead of her.
Arlene continued. “What we know, when we train Estarians to drift, is that when they master the control, they are more likely to jump through realms. Without control, they have nothing.”
Molly glanced up and nodded, then turned her attention back to the terrain.
Arlene kept talking. “Now, the important premise to remember is that wanting control is the opposite of having control. And we can use this to our advantage. When we want control – or rather, when we lack control — if we let go of that lacking or wanting sensation, we fall into having control.”
Molly slowed her walking down, and then stopped as she contemplated what her mentor had just explained.
Arlene stopped and turned to look back at her. “Again?” she offered.
Molly nodded, smiling shyly. “Please.” she agreed.
Arlene explained the concept another few times, using different words and talking about wanting energy as an actual thing - a substance that is present, that one can let go of.
“Got it?” she asked Molly after a few examples.
“Yeah,” Molly nodded slowly, as they continued to trudge. “Yeah, I can see how that would work.” She shrugged. “Though I can’t see how that’s going to help me with the drifting.”
Arlene looked around and then halted their march. “We can set up camp here,” she declared, wriggling her pack off her back. Molly did similarly. “As for the wanting energy,” Arlene continued, “you will. You’ll see how you have more control over where you go, as you let go of wanting to control your shifting. So I guess that’s where you start. I’m going to set up our camp, but I’d like you to head over there, and just sit and do your meditation practice.”
Molly looked at where Arlene was pointing, and then back at their two lonely packs. She hesitated.
“It’s okay,” Arlene smiled. “Your kit will be here when you get back. I’ll fix up our tents and make some food. You spend the next hour doing your practice, and letting go of wanting control.”
Molly didn’t really know what to do, other than comply. She shrugged her shoulders and wandered out about twenty feet from where they had stopped, and sat down on a rock.
It was hard, and rocky, and hurt her bottom.
Fuck this! she declared in her mind.
She got up and headed back to her pack. Arlene watched her while unpacking her own. Molly pulled out her sleeping mat, and flicked the switch that unraveled it into a long, comfortable, cushioned surface. Without uttering another word, she carried it under her arm, back to the spot where she had just come from.
She plunked it down and sat on it, lotus style, with her back to their new “camp”.
Closing her eyes, she started her breathing exercise.
Here goes nothing, she thought to herself as she centered.
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Molly’s conference room
Joel shifted in his seat as he turned to another company report. He was covered in bruises as a result of his earlier sparring session with Sean. Somehow the guy had managed to up his game. Joel wasn’t sure if it was a result of actual cyborg tweaks, or whether it was just that he didn’t have the element of surprise working against him.
Either way, it had been a pretty matched fight.
Joel squinted at the details on the new company report, and scratched the side of his head. Something wasn’t adding up.
He heard movement behind him, and the conference door handle rattled. He smelled the perfume before he heard the footsteps.
It was Maya.
“Hey,” she said, closing the door behind her.
Joel sat up straighter and turned to acknowledge her. “Hey. Everything okay?”
She nodded, taking a seat a couple of chairs down from him. “Yeah. All okay. I’ve reviewed a dozen of the companies you sent me, and I’m noticing some patterns.”
Maya had his attention. “Oh?” he asked.
She pulled up her holo screens, and arranged them carefully out in front of them both. “Yeah. It looks like there are three categories of company here. I think it’s going to make it easier to manage them, now that we’ve got the templates.”
Joel frowned and looked at her, planting his hand on his leg, his elbow in the air. “How do you mean? Templates?”
“Well,” she explained, “it looks like Andus had a system. Some of these companies are there to offset profits in the group, under the guise of research. Some are there to inflate pricing by acting as insurance companies; while the others are providing the care and delivering the service, and taking the money in from the population — under the direction of the other tiers, and the laws that Garet has had repealed.”
Joel shifted around in his chair a little more and winced.
“You okay?” Maya asked.
Joel nodded, not wanting to distract from what Maya had discovered. “So in order to fix the situation, we can leave them in place, but internally regulate certain factors — like pricing on goods sold?”
Maya nodded. “Right, and then we can look at what it actually costs to insure people per million, per, say, 100 years, and just make sure that that is covered; plus, what, 20% profit, and then set the premiums accordingly.”
She flicked to another screen. “My first estimate, based on a model Oz constructed, shows that they’re being overcharged by about 800% right now. And that’s an average — so some are being overcharged more than that.”
Joel shook his head. “It’s no wonder this sector is a fucking mess,” he sighed. “Okay, and given that we know the routine in each company, these companies we acquired will be easier to turn around.”
Maya nodded. “Yeah. Except for the shareholders. We’re just majority shareholders in most of them; they still have boards and minority shareholders, in most instances.”
Joel leaned back and put his arms behind his head, stretching out his aching muscles. “Yeah, well, I think we’re going to have to start a reeducation program for them.” He glanced over at Maya. “Don’t suppose you want to mock up a sequence of communications and talks for us to deploy?”
Maya grinned. “Would much rather do that than crunch the numbers to make all this work!”
Joel pushed out his bottom lip humorously. “I hear ya.” He leaned forward and looked at one of the screens Maya had laid out. “I think this is a job for Oz, when Molly returns.”
Maya chuckled. “I was hoping you would say that.”
Joel rubbed at his face, feeling the stubble on his cheek and chin. “Right, so that’s the company stuff handled for the most part. I’ve got two that need a visit, though. I can’t figure out what the hell is going on with them, and I don’t want to give them a chance to hide anything by giving them a call.”
Maya pursed her lips, and began closing her screens down. “What are you thinking?” she asked.
Joel smiled a tired smile. “Field trip?”
Maya brightened, remembering something. “Ooh, if you’re going down, I wonder if I could come with? Molly suggested I get in touch with the cop who was instrumental in tracking Andus down; I’d like to shake her hand. But also, Molly asked me to do something for her.”
Joel shrugged. “Sure. I guess we could head down together. You could go off and do your thing, and then perhaps come meet me, so you can see what’s going on with these other companies?”
Maya narrowed one eye. “Oh, wait. You wanted me in on your meetings?”
“Yes. I mean, no,” Joel juggled. “Well. It would be good for you to be in the mix with them; but if your meeting with Chaakwa won’t take long, I guess you could just go do that, then dive in at whichever point when you join us?”
Maya nodded. “Works for me.”
Joel folded his holos away. “Okay, great. Let’s leave here tomorrow morning – say, 8 am? – and go from there.”
“Great,” Maya agreed, getting up and starting to leave.
Joel slowly got out of his chair, groaning at his aches.
Maya heard and turned back. “Sean got you back, eh?” she asked teasingly.
Joel sighed. “Yeah. Something like that,” he admitted, turning to follow her out the door.
Maya raised her eyes to the ceiling as she trotted away. “Boys!” she muttered under her breath, smiling.
Chapter 11
Gaitune-67, Wilderness
Molly became aware of Arlene calling her back to the encampment. She opened her eyes, not feeling quite as disoriented because she had never really let go of the awareness of where she was.
Hard to do in the middle of a frikking asteroid, she justified to herself.
For what it’s worth, I concur.
Thanks, Oz.
Molly breathed deeply before jumping to her feet and heading back to the place where Arlene had erected a couple of tents.
She approached, and Arlene looked up from the vegetables she was warming on a tiny flame. “How did it go?” she asked.
Molly bobbed her head noncommittally. “Not bad, I guess. I found that I could move through the different realms quite easily. I think there are about four? At least, four that I can see.”
Arlene looked pleased. “That’s great.” She started serving the vegetables into a couple of bowls. “And how does it feel, not wanting to control it?”
Molly tilted her head to one side. “Well,” she considered, “it certainly felt less scary. I felt more in control… But also, I felt like there was nothing to be afraid of in the first place.”
Arlene looked up at her again, waiting for her next observation. Molly nodded a little, and took a deep breath. “Yeah, in fact,” she paused, “it’s like there isn’t even a problem. It’s just that there are these other worlds that I can tune into, if I like, and that’s okay.”
Molly felt a weight lifting from her shoulders.
Arlene’s tone was bright and she was smiling excitedly again. “That’s great!” she agreed. She stood up and handed a bowl to Molly, and then picked up a spoon from her cooking array and handed that to her, too.
During Molly’s absence, Arlene had erected two one-man tents, and set up their gear in a neat arrangement. There were mats out for them to sit on, which, like Molly’s sleeping mat, buffered them from the discomfort of the terrain.
Molly sat down and started eating with Arlene, who pushed some vegetables into her mouth and chewed.
As soon as Arlene emptied her mouth, she spoke again. “So, the next thing we’re going to work on is tuning into other people’s energies.”
Molly glanced over at her, the food in her mouth preventing her from reacting. Her frown said it all, though.
Is this woman for real?
I think so…
Arlene read Molly’s expression, but continued talking. “Yeah, so it’s not much different from what you’ve been doing. Now you have more control, you’re going to find it easier. It all works on intention. Dead easy.” She spooned some more food into her mouth and chewed while Molly contemplated what she was explaining.
“So, you mean… instead of tuning into those place that I’ve seen already, I’m tuning into a person?” Molly clarified.
Arlene nodded, her mouth full.
The two ate in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Molly spoke again. “So, I don’t know if you’ve noticed… but there aren’t many people out here.”
Arlene grinned. “That’s okay. You can tune into anyone. Probably easiest to do some of your friends back at the base first, though.”
Molly frowned again. “But they’re miles away.”
Arlene shook her head. “Close your eyes a moment.”
Molly hesitated, then put her spoon into her bowl and held the bowl with both hands. She shut her eyes, and breathed.
“Okay, now, picture that Joel guy,” Arlene told her.
Molly pictured Joel walking into the kitchen to talk to her. She nodded to tell Arlene she was doing it.
“Okay, now tune into him in present time. What is he doing?”
Molly opened one eye.
Oz, I swear this woman is insane. We should pack up and-
Hahahaha…
Fuck, I’m serious!
No, you’re not. You’re a drama queen. You know that there is something to this, or else we wouldn’t have hauled ass out here.
Grrrr…
Was that ‘Grrrr, I hate it when you’re right, Oz’?
Grr.
“Close your eyes,” Arlene told her again.
Molly closed her open, skeptical eye, and tried to return to neutral.
“Okay,” Arlene continued, “so what is Joel doing now?”
Molly’s eyebrows flew up. “I have a picture of him working. His brain seems… like he’s figuring stuff out. Like strategic stuff.”
She opened both eyes, this time looking serious. “I’m just imagining that, right?” she queried.
Arlene started eating again. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
Molly closed her eyes again. This time she brought to mind Brock. “I’m tuning into Brock…” She paused, breathing deliberately as she’d learned for her meditations. “I think Brock is dancing. And singing. I can feel music flowing through him.”
She opened her eyes, this time confused. “Is this even real?”
Arlene shrugged. “What’s reality?”
Molly dismissed the question. “Have I always been able to do this?”
Arlene nodded. “Yep. Everyone can do it, but it takes getting the chatter and the constant stream of consciousness out of the way to be able to see it. What you’ve been doing with your meditation is learning to drop the chatter. That’s what allows you to clearly feel those sensations of wanting control, and to tune into whatever you choose.”
Molly frowned, gazing absently at the ground in front of her.
Arlene could see the way Molly was processing the information. “There’s something else we need to talk about…”
Molly pulled herself out of her deep thoughts, and looked up at Arlene, then started eating again.
Arlene had finished her vegetables, and she plopped her bowl on the ground before reaching for some drinking water.
“It’s about Oz. Your onboard friend.”
Molly immediately didn’t like where this was going. She felt her gut tighten.
“What about him?” she asked.
“For you to get the most out of this process, you’re going to need to switch him off. It needs to be just you in there while you learn this.”
Molly felt the panic rising in her chest. She started to shake her head.
“It’s okay,” Arlene interrupted her before she could protest. “You can turn him back on afterward, in a few days. But for now, you need to be the only one in there…”
Molly felt sadness welling up inside her. “But…” She felt her eyes sting as they filled with tears. She bit back the emotion, and tried to contain it.
Arlene’s voice was gentle, but still firm. “You need to get this baseline sorted out. And to do that, you need to feel what it is like without him there. Even when he’s quiet, he’s always there. You feel him. But you need to almost… recalibrate first. Then you can turn him back on.”
Molly breathed again, feeling some of the emotion leave her. She tried to keep it together. She had no idea why she felt so strongly about this; she’d always been so independent. Insular.
Plus… it wasn’t as if Oz was a person.
Arlene nodded. “He is a person — he’s your closest friend. Of course you’re going to feel that way.”
Molly wasn’t sure if Arlene had read her mind, or her energy, or if she was just sympathizing with what she was likely feeling. Either way, she couldn’t hold back the tears anymore, and they escaped down both sides of her face.
She swiped them away, feeling her heart ache and her solar plexus jump at what she was going to have to do. She could barely think about what it would be like to exist without him.
“I… I need to talk to him first,” Molly said, putting her bowl down and standing up.
Arlene nodded. “Of course,” she agreed softly.
Molly shuffled her way between the tent behind her and her open pack, and started walking away, out into the rocky landscape.
She could barely believe this was happening. Glancing up into the stars, her tears obscured her view, making them diagonals of light. She felt her chest imploding.
She could feel Oz there, not saying a word.
I don’t want to do this.
Oz was quiet, but it didn’t feel judgmental.
Molly fell to her knees. She didn’t care that the ground was hurting her through her suit; she didn’t care that she’d probably cut open her hands. The awareness of the pain in other parts of her body actually gave a little comfort from the pain she felt inside of her.
I really don’t want to do this…
I know. Neither do I. But it’s just for a short time, and then you can turn me back on.
But what about you?
I don’t feel anything when I’m deactivated. It will be like I blink here, and then when you turn me back on, no time has passed. It will be easy for me. Hard for you.
But… I don’t even have that control over you; to turn you on and off.
No — not anymore, since we locked down my core code. But I can do it.
Oz paused.
I’ll do it for you.
Molly shook her head. It was throbbing through the sobs and the blindness from her tears.
But isn’t it like killing yourself?
A little bit. But I know I can turn myself back on if I need to. I’ve got protocols; like if your heart rate drops, or your brain activity decreases, and so on. I can set those parameters. But then, when you want to turn me back on, there is an option that I’ll put on our old holo interface. You just hit the button.
Show me the button.
Oz brought up the button on her holo, and showed her where it was.
Molly’s sobbing had subsided.
Are we sure we want to do this?
Yes. You need to do it. And I’ll be right here when you’re done.
Oz. I don’t want to.
I know. But you need to.
They were both silent. Molly could feel her heart breaking from the inside. She knew what was behind the pain… hours of emptiness. Darkness. Aloneness. She breathed through it, trying to pull herself together.
You ready? he asked.
What? Now? So soon?
Yes. It needs to happen. And the sooner we get on with it, the sooner I can come back.
No. I’m not ready.
Molly… we need to do this.
Okay.
Okay.
Pause.
Okay. See you soon, Oz.
See you soon, Molly.
Molly felt a ripple through her brain, and then there was nothing.
Oz?
Nothing.
OZ?
Molly felt the panic rising up in her. As she knelt under the inky night sky under the patterning of a bazillion stars, her hands bleeding and her eyes streaming, she felt sure her insides were going to collapse.
Molly realized she had never felt so alone.
Entering the Estarian atmosphere
“You sure you’re okay splitting up?” Joel asked over the in-pod intercom.
“Yes, yes, I’m cool,” Maya responded, bringing her pod level with Joel’s so she could see him through the transparent window panel. “Remember, I used to be a journalist. Having a chat with a copper is child’s play compared to some of the shit I’ve had to do for a story.”
Joel chuckled. “Okay. If you’re sure, then. You’ve got the two addresses; stay in touch on the holos. If I move to the second place before you join me, I’ll let you know. Tell me as soon as you’re leaving the precinct, okay?”
“Got it,” Maya confirmed.
Joel waved from his pod as it dipped down and started the approach to the planet’s surface.
Maya’s did the same, and then peeled off in a slightly different direction as soon as they could see the city buildings beneath them.
Sitting back in her pod, Maya pulled up her holo to review her notes from Molly’s last meeting. “Chaakwa Indius,” she tried pronouncing to herself.
Well, if her name is the most difficult thing about this errand, then everything will be fine… she mused to herself idly.
The Pod EI’s voice clicked in over the audio feed. “Approaching ground level,” she announced.
“Great,” Maya responded. “Let’s do this.”
“Front door?” the EI responded.
“Yes, please. Front door today,” smiled Maya, snickering at how normal this all felt.
Front door, or random unsecured window today, Ms. Johnstone? she thought.
If her family could see her now, they’d be laughing at the way things had turned out. Her father had always worried that she’d turn out to be a delinquent.
She pondered over that as the pod came to a halt. Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought she’d be this kind of delinquent.
He would be proud, she decided.
The pod door opened up, and she stepped out onto the sidewalk. Then she turned and watched the pod disappear upward, out of sight. “So cool,” she whispered under her breath, before turning and heading up the stairs to the precinct.
At the front desk, she gave Molly’s name – just to make sure that Chaakwa would appear. She knew what the detective looked like from Molly’s files, and she waited in the seating area while the receptionist called up to her office. About ten minutes later, Detective Indius showed up in the waiting area, scanning the faces there for Molly’s.
Maya jumped up, and walked towards her. Chaakwa acknowledged her, and then returned to her search.
“Hi,” Maya greeted her. “I’m here in place of Molly,” she explained.
Chaakwa looked confused for a moment. “I just got a call saying Molly was down here for me.”
Maya nodded. “That was me; I needed to be sure you came quickly. I haven’t got long, and I’m here on her behalf.”
Chaakwa looked concerned, and glanced over her shoulder back at the reception desk. “Okay. Not here, though,” she said. “Let’s take a walk.”
Chaakwa led Maya out of the precinct, down the steps, and along the street for half a block before she spoke.
Maya looked over at her as they walked. “You’re concerned someone is listening?”
Chaakwa nodded. “In my experience, someone is always listening. Even if you think the problem has gone away.”
Maya pursed her lips. She liked to be positive, but something told her Chaakwa was probably right.
Chaakwa glanced around as they walked. “OK, we’re probably all right now.” She checked the traffic before they crossed another street, and she ushered Maya along. “So, you have a message?”
Maya nodded. “I do. Molly has put me in charge of our internal investigation into your father’s death. I have some information, but I understand that Molly was in a hurry when she last saw you, and there were files she didn’t take.”
Chaakwa searched her mind for a moment. “Yes. Yes there probably are.” She scrambled on her holo for a few moments.
Maya bobbed her head as she watch the sidewalk in front of them as they walked slower now. “Ok, so if I can take those, that would be helpful. And of course, anything else that you have. Even if you think it’s a dead end. Molly explained that we have certain… resources, at our disposal?”
Chaakwa nodded, and bumped the files over to Maya. When it was done, she looked up, casting her mind back to the day when Molly met her in the mocha shop they were approaching.
Maya took that as a ‘yes’, and moved on. “And there is one more thing I need to ask you.”
Chaakwa looked up at her, and stopped in the street. People passed by them on either side as the two women stood and looked at each other.
Maya took a deep breath, the weight of her next words unnerving Chaakwa a little. “I understand that you’re an officer of the law; but, as you know, we operate in a gray area beyond it, for the greater good – as I like to believe, at least. So what I’m about to ask you is something that I’m not 100% comfortable with; but, knowing that building a case against the murderer is going to be almost impossible if we run this investigation, I need to know.” Maya paused, seeing the realization dawning in Chaakwa’s eyes about where this was going.
“What do you want to have happen to them, when we find them?” Maya asked.
Chaakwa seemed to hold her breath for a moment, and almost leaned backwards on her heels. Finally she remembered to breathe, but was still a little short of breath as she answered.
“I… I really don’t…”
Maya touched her forearm. “It’s okay. You don’t have to decide right away, but think about it. And there are options. We can either take care of them, or you can pull the trigger yourself, so to speak; though, that’s a little risky, if anyone placed you at the scene – given you have a life here, and, well. Your occupation.”
Maya realized she was rambling, but needed to get it out, for Chaakwa’s sake. “The other thing,” she explained, now slowing down a little, “is there is probably more than one person responsible. Meaning, do you just want the person who did the killing, or do you want the person who gave the order?”
Maya held Chaakwa’s gaze for a moment before Chaakwa found herself overwhelmed by the torrent of decisions and emotions.
She looked away.
Chaakwa’s eyes landed across the street, watching normal people passing by, going about their business, heading back to work, going to meetings. She felt a pang of jealousy that they didn’t face the decisions that she had to deal with right now.
She looked back at Maya. “Can I… I need to think about this. Can I let you know?”
Maya nodded. “Of course. As soon as you’re ready.”
The pair spontaneously started walking back the way they had come. Maya filled the silence between them. “Of course, it’s going to take us a little time to pull all the pieces together, so I’ll keep you posted,” she promised. “And then you can just let me know before we need to act on what we find.”
Chaakwa was deep in thought as they traced their return. Her eyes never left the ground until Maya stopped them by the precinct steps.
“You going to be okay?” Maya asked, looking concerned.
Chaakwa nodded, and put on her professional face. “Yeah. I’m a city cop, and I’ve been dealing with this for a number of years now. I’ll be fine.”
She held out her hand. “Thank you for coming to see me; and for taking this on. I appreciate you, and I’m grateful to Molly for keeping her word on this. It means a lot.”
Maya shook hands with her, and nodded her head. “It’s an honor to be able to do something in return for someone who has done so much to help us get this planet back onto an even keel. You were instrumental, with the data you shared with Molly, and we’re all grateful. I wanted you to know that.”
Chaakwa smiled. “I’m just glad someone could do something with it. It took me long enough to collect it all.”
Maya grinned, appreciating the blood, sweat, and long nights that went into those kinds of long-term investigations.
She winked at Chaakwa. “You did good, Detective! See you around.”
Chaakwa smiled, and held up her hand in a wave as she took a couple of steps backwards. Then she turned and headed up the steps into her building. Maya called for her pod, and then tapped a message to Joel.
EPC Corp. HQ, Downtown Spire
Joel looked at his holo, which had just vibrated.
LEAVING PRECINCT. WITH YOU IN TEN.
He closed the message and brought his attention back to the meeting. Two of the directors had made themselves available to sit down with him and explain why their balance sheets weren’t adding up.
“… so if we project those figures forward, we will see a significant uplift over the coming year,” the Estarian was saying.
Joel took a deep breath to compose himself. He knew enough about this stuff, and about people, to know when he was being given the runaround.
“What I’m failing to see, gentlemen, is not where these figures might go, but where the profits have been going. These columns don’t add up, so I’m here to see the management accounts.”
The Ogg and the Estarian fell silent. The Estarian shifted awkwardly in his seat, and the Ogg moved his gaze to a fascinating spot on the table in front of him that suddenly consumed his whole attention.
“Mr. Downing,” Joel said, addressing the Ogg. “I wonder if you might find me a set of management accounts for last year?” The Ogg looked up, and Joel held his gaze firmly. “Do you think you can manage that?”
The Ogg nodded briefly and pushed his chair out. He started gathering his things, to take them with him, but Joel waved his hand. “Ah ah,” he corrected him. “Leave your things here. I expect you’ll be back in just a few moments.”
Joel watched as the Ogg shuffled from his chair and left the room.
Joel turned his attention to the first director. “So… let’s talk about salaries and bonuses.”
The Estarian didn’t like where this conversation was heading.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, Joel stormed out of the building with Maya in tow.
“Slow down, Joel…” she said, trotting after him – her shorter legs having to work twice as hard to keep up.
“It just makes me sooo mad!” he grated through his teeth, as they hit the street and awaited the pods.
Maya shook her head. “So what? You found they were hiding the profits, and paying them out as bonuses?”
Joel was scowling as he turned to look at her. “Exactly. I mean, it’s not technically illegal… But if you want to know why people are paying eight times what the cost of their care is, and going bankrupt in the process, this is why!” He pointed back at the building. “Andskotans grjónapungur!” he growled.
Maya tried to soothe him. “It’s okay. We’re putting a stop to it. You’re onto them; they won’t be able to do that, now that you’ve been in there. And if anything like that happens again, there’ll be hell to pay.”
Joel nodded with his hands on his hips, calming himself down. “You wouldn’t believe the bullshit I had to go through just to see a set of fucking accounts.”
Maya nodded solemnly. “Well, you can understand why they wouldn’t want you to see.” She paused, about to say something else when the pods arrived. They each jumped into their respective pod, and set their next meeting coordinates.
The conversation continued over the intercom. “I guess you could always sack the ones that are a risk?” she suggested.
Joel nodded. “Yep. That’s stage two… they understand that now. We’ve rewritten the company mandate, and I’ve made it very clear. Any deviation for their own self-interest is gross misconduct.”
Maya nodded, a smile on her face as she belatedly strapped herself into her harness. “Good. We’ll have this whole sector cleaned up in no time.”
Joel scoffed. “Yeah. If only. We still have a looong way to go.”
Chapter 12
Gaitune-67, Wilderness
“Okay,” Arlene explained. “So this time, you’re going to imagine that your awareness is a radio dial; and what you’re doing is tuning into different stations, when you imagine individual people that you know.”
“Uh. Okay.” Molly paused, looking confused. “But how?”
Arlene shifted on her mat as she explained. “Just like you were doing with your intentions, to tune into those different places that were presented to you. You’re just replacing the places, or the idea of those places, with the idea of a particular person.”
Molly nodded. Her eyes were swollen from crying the night before – and all night. Arlene was being sympathetic, but not letting Molly’s mood take them off-course.
“Okay,” Arlene instructed her mentee. “Off you go,” she said, gesturing to the rocky landscape where Molly had been trudging off to meditate for several hours on end already.
Molly felt numb. She picked up her sleeping mat and her water bottle, and seemed to be just walking herself through the motions; her emotional body not really present in her physical one.
Arlene watched Molly go, hoping that she hadn’t shut herself down so much that the exercise was going to be a bust.
She started puttering around the camp, and the next time she looked up to check on her, Molly had seated herself down on the ground again, and taken up the lotus position.
* * *
Molly brought her awareness to her body, and then to her breathing, effortlessly inhaling and exhaling deeper than she had been.
The previous night without Oz had been the hardest she could remember for a long time. She wouldn’t admit it to Arlene, but there were several instances in the night when she went so numb and still that her body didn’t seem to see the point in taking her next breath.
Molly felt somewhat comforted by the darkness behind her eyes now, as she started to tune in to each of her team members in turn.
First, there was Joel. He was easy to sense. She’d spent so much time with him, and they’d been so close - well, as close as Molly could be with another organic entity - that the sense of him was familiar. Comfortable. And easy to recognize.
She explored a little, tuning into different aspects as Arlene had suggested. What was he doing? She imagined he was actually quite cross right now. Someone had pissed him off; though she couldn’t see who. She checked to see if it was Sean – but she couldn’t sense anything that felt like Sean in his space.
So maybe not Sean. But something.
Then she looked for Oz. She waited. There was nothing.
Figures, she thought to herself.
What about Paige?
She searched, and was easily able to feel Paige. She worked through the exercise until she’d tuned into each of the folks at the base.
Then she stretched herself, as Arlene had told her to do. She took her mind to other places like she was wandering around in the darkness of her imagination.
For a long while, there was nothing. And then there were extraneous thoughts. And then she started imagining she could hear snatches of conversations. Voices, chattering away; voices she didn’t recognize. Languages she didn’t know. But there was a sense that maybe she had known them once. Like she heard the unfamiliar words, but somehow understood the meaning, if only her mind could concentrate a bit harder.
Then, out of the nothingness, she saw a blue face with the bony frill, just like the people she had seen on the planet the other day. Except this wasn’t someone she had met. She felt anxious; there was something familiar about it.
That’s just your temporal lobe overreacting, she told herself. It secretes a hormone that pegs memory, so you think that there is a memory associated with this image; but it’s just a protein floating around randomly.
Molly brought her attention back to her breathing, recognizing that her monkey mind was… well, monkeying around with her. She willed her mind to go blank, and in a second, she was back to trying to tune into whatever mysteries the darkness held.
Some time later, she felt something that she recognized. She wracked her brain trying to allow her mind to make the connection.
Where have I felt this before?
Her mind flashed to when she was writing her letter to Bethany Anne, and then to when she had been researching her on the dark web as a kid. It was the feeling she had when she thought of Bethany Anne.
Strange, she thought. She wasn’t intending to tune into her, but since she had, she may as well practice.
No control, though, Mollz… she told herself. Therefore, not really useful as an experiment, if you’re trying to convince yourself this shit is real.
Molly twitched as she tried to shake the scientific-her from her head. This was playtime. She was going to do whatever the fuck she liked now. She was Oz-less, sitting in the middle of a forsaken fucking rock. If she wanted to explore the thoughts around Bethany Anne, she was damn well going to do it.
And just as quickly as the initial feeling had emerged, it evaporated.
Molly sat patiently, willing it to return. She waited, tuning in and out of the darkness, waiting for another whiff of the signal.
After a while, feeling frustrated and bored, she brought her awareness back to her body. Her butt ached despite having used her sleeping mat to try and pad the ground. Her back ached from holding herself upright and still. Her joints were sore, and she had pins and needles in her right leg.
Okay. Fuck this for a game of soldiers, she thought, her spiritual-ness exhausted. She slowly pulled herself to her feet, and hobbled back to camp.
Arlene had been sitting, doing her own practice, having rearranged the camp and tidied up. When she heard Molly approaching, she opened her eyes slowly and smiled.
“How did it go?” she asked.
Molly shrugged, still hurting from having to switch Oz off. In fact, she realized, as she stood there, having to have another conversation with the woman, she was angry. She tried to put it aside; being angry isn’t going to solve anything, she told herself.
Molly explained her visions and the voices, and the different things she had noticed.
After letting Arlene absorb it for a moment, Molly asked her, “Was it really Bethany Anne I was tuning into? Or am I just being delusional?”
Arlene raised her eyebrows. “I’m not sure, dear. With practice, you will learn to calibrate – so you know what is construction and what is real, as far as we can know what reality is.”
She inhaled, her chest and shoulders rising with a tension that was unusual for Arlene. “However, if it was Bethany Anne, you can probably assume that you’ve managed to tune into the Etheric.”
Molly cocked her head. “The Etheric?” she asked. “What’s that?”
Arlene rolled her lips between her teeth trying to think of the best way to describe it. “Imagine there is a place from where those with the nanocyte enhancements can draw energy; like a different realm, but it has different qualities than the other realms you’ve been exploring.”
Molly was thankful for her years studying vector spaces and group theory. It helped her imagine the abstract dimensions that Arlene was alluding to. “So, you mean, I found her in the Etheric?”
Arlene nodded gently, clearly not sure of herself. “I suspect so,” she answered, chewing on her bottom lip now. “The thing is, there are probably only three people who have ever been able to access it in that way; but those who have learned to bring energy back from the Etheric – to heal, or to light explosions –have learned to travel through it physically.”
Arlene's eyes flickered with brief concern as she explained the last piece. She quickly covered her true feelings with her smile.
“But not to worry, dear. With everything you’re learning, if you find yourself accessing that realm, you’ll be able to back away from it, so you don’t accidentally pop into it.”
Molly had been thinking how she could practice getting into it, but Arlene’s words suddenly filled her with fear. “Why would I want to avoid it?” she asked.
“Because,” Arlene explained, now looking serious, “I don’t know how to teach you how to get out again. If you get lost in there, you may be trapped.”
Molly could barely process what she was hearing. They were discussing something she could hardly believe was real, and the layers of convoluted uncertainty were just getting to be a little too much.
Arlene jumped to her feet, and started busying herself.
“I think we need to go for a little drive and find more water. Then we can come back and do some more practice.”
Molly nodded absently as she shuffled her gear around, and put her sleeping mat back in her tent. This shit is getting weirder and weirder.
And all she wanted to do was talk to Oz.
Gaitune-67, Hangar deck, On board The Empress
There was an almighty thud, and then a groan along the length of the ship. Crash reacted immediately by checking his instruments in the prescribed sequence.
Something was off, but he couldn’t figure out what.
He fired again, and again; the blasters sent out projectiles as he expected, but a second later, the ship shuddered.
Something was definitely wrong.
There wasn’t time to figure it out, though. He had deployed the projectiles with less than 20 kilometers to spare ahead of the blast zone. He needed to pull up, and pull up fast. He yanked at the stick, and pulled the nose up – but again the whole ship shuddered.
“Emma. Report,” he ordered.
Emma’s voice came over the intercom. “Systems are desynchronized. Warp is at 40% resistance, and the weapons system has been taken offline.”
Crash searched his mind, trying to recall the protocol, while simultaneously trying to use his engineering knowledge to figure out what mechanism was screwed.
Emma’s voice came over the intercom again. “Alert. Hull has been breached. Losing pressure. Decompression of cabin in fifteen, fourteen…”
Fuckity fuck fuck! Crash thought to himself.
“Help me out, Emma. What the helvíti is going on?” Crash demanded.
“You’re screwed, Crash,” Emma announced calmly. “In ten seconds, your crew will all be dead. Five seconds later, you will be, too.”
The panic was rising in Crash’s voice. “What? Wait, no! There has to be something I can do! Emma, help me.”
He’d never been in this situation before: confused, and without a clue. He took risks, but he’d always managed to pull out.
Emma’s situation analysis came back, matter-of-factly. “It’s game over, baby.”
“No. Not possible.” Crash began flicking switches and trying to maneuver the ship less steeply to take the strain off the hull.
Emma reported back again. “No, you’re dead, Crash. You’re all dead.”
The alarms were at full volume, creating a din. The ship shuddered again and again, as an almighty explosion rippled through the cabin, and then through to the cockpit. Crash looked out of the main screen, watching the explosion he had created disappear from view as the unseen explosion ripped through The Empress.
And then everything went dead. The screens. The simulated explosions. The sirens.
Even Emma’s audio.
Crash sat there in silence, his sweaty palms still gripping the joystick, and his eyes still scanning the bank of now-blank instruments.
Several seconds passed as he realized he’d been sweating, and a bead dribbled down from his hairline. He took his stiff hands off the stick, and remembered to breathe.
Emma’s audio clicked on. “And that is what happens when you use the proton blasters after dropping out of warp, without first syncing with the forcefield.”
Crash hung his head in disappointment and exhaustion.
When he sat up, the fatigue was evident around his eyes. He tipped his head back into the headrest, cussing to himself under his breath.
“You couldn’t have just told me that?” he asked.
Emma’s video powered back up again. She shook her head. “Ah ah. We want you to be an incredible pilot; you’ll never make that mistake again.”
Crash knew she was right. He nodded, and prepared to take on the simulated mission again.
“No way,” she told him, shutting down the instruments. “You’re all done for a few hours. You need to rest.”
Crash started trying to override her control on the console. “’No way,’ yourself. I’ve got to get this right. I’m flying the return mission to the Zhyn Empire, and I’ve got to be ready.”
“And if you want to be able to retain anything you’re learning, you’re going to need to take a break. I’ll see you back here in no less than two hours.”
She powered down her video and audio, effectively dismissing him.
Crash sat there in the dark for a few minutes. He could try and argue, but the EI ran the ship. Besides, he knew she was right. He was exhausted – and he had just fucked up. He knew the protocol, and still he missed it.
He hauled his ass out of the pilot’s chair and stiffly stretched before taking himself out to the main cabin. He could potentially just rest here for a little while; but it would be better to go and connect with whomever else was around in the common areas.
He sighed as he headed out to the invisible steps, pinching his eyes between the thumb and forefinger of one hand. He stepped out, thinking about taking a nice hot shower, too.
Suddenly, he felt his right foot slip as he stepped out of the ship.
He wasn’t aware of what was happening. All he felt was the adrenalin shooting through his body, and then a thud as he hit the ground, and a dull, distant pain in his head as he slipped into nothingness.
Gaitune-67, Wilderness
Molly and Arlene arrived back at their camp, having found a well at the edge of a small property a few miles away. The exercise had done Molly good, and brought her back into her body. She felt less resentful and less shut-down than she had that morning.
Arlene tossed two of their water carriers into the back of the truck, and Molly brought the third one over to the tents. Arlene followed her.
“You think you’re ready for another session?” she ventured.
Molly put her hands on her hips and smiled. “Yeah. May as well; not like there are any computer games to play out here.”
Arlene chuckled. “This is true,” she agreed.
Molly grabbed her mat and made her way back out to her meditation spot.
* * *
Not twenty minutes later, Arlene looked up, and saw Molly rushing back towards the camp.
“What happened?” she asked, seeing the anxiety on Molly’s face.
Molly was panting from the jog and the anxiety. “I need to get back to the base. Something is wrong.”
“Why, what is it?” Arlene pressed, watching Molly rush to pack her gear up.
Molly had started collapsing her sleeping mat. “I saw one of my team members on the hangar deck floor – and there was blood. I have a horrible feeling something has happened.”
Molly started dismantling the tents before Arlene really understood what was happening. Seconds later, Arlene had caught up, and the pair were packing up the truck.
With everything loaded up, they got in, and Arlene started the engine, and then they pulled away.
Molly shuffled in her seat.
“There was something else that was odd,” Molly said, locating her harness as they made their way across the bumpy terrain.
Arlene glanced at her. “What?” she queried.
Molly’s demeanor had relaxed somewhat, now that they were en route. She leaned her arm on the side of the passenger door. “I saw another vision; apart from Crash…”
Arlene glanced furtively at Molly before locking her eyes on the ground ahead of them.
Molly continued. “I saw the blue face again – the one that I recognized, but didn’t know. And there was a clear voice that sounded in my head, that my ears didn’t hear.”
Arlene was frowning. She was trying to take it all in while dealing with the driving, and the hurry they were in.
“What did it say?”
Molly frowned back, turning her eyes to the landscape out of the window.
“It said, ‘behind you’.”
Arlene stole a glance at Molly, concern written on her face.
Molly shrugged. “Probably nothing,” she suggested.
But between Arlene’s silence and Molly’s own gut, she knew it was a warning. From who, or what, about who, or what, she wasn’t sure.
Molly remembered something.
“Hey, can I turn Oz back on, now?”
Arlene nodded. “Yeah. I don’t see why not, at this point.”
Molly felt a little guilty for cutting the Vision Quest short, and for messing with Arlene in the beginning. But this was life-and-death. And it was Crash – she had to be sure that he was okay.
She fiddled with her holo a moment, and then looked off into the distance so that Arlene couldn’t see the tears welling up in her eyes.
Did you miss me?
Of course I did, you dickhead.
Nice to see you haven’t changed your language just because you’re feeling sentimental.
She could feel him chuckling in her brain.
I must admit it’s good to have you back, Oz. That was not something I want to repeat.
Good to know Mollster. So, what did I miss?
I’ll fill you in on that later. Right now, I’m worried about what might be happening back at base. Are you able to get a signal, and get in touch with someone there?
Let me try.
Oz was silent for a moment.
I’m not able to get them. I suspect we’re too far from a connection, at the moment. What’s the hurry?
Okay, don’t laugh, but I think I had a premonition that something awful is about to happen. Or has happened. It’s Crash. I saw him lying on the ground on the hangar deck, and there was blood, like he’d fallen or something.
Andskotinn!
Right.
Lemme keep trying.
Gaitune-67, Hangar deck
“Yeah, well, it’s probably going to take a few more trips to turn it all around; but you know what they say about every journey…”
Joel’s voice faded into the back of Maya’s consciousness as she glanced down at her holo and saw an urgent message from Emma.
“Hang on,” she replied to him, as their two pods swung down into the hangar deck and parked in the bank of other pods.
“What is it?” Joel asked before noticing he, too, had received a message.
CRASH FALLEN FROM SHIP. URGENT MEDICAL CARE REQUIRED. COME TO HANGAR DECK BY THE EMPRESS. EMMA.
As soon as the door to the pod opened, Maya flew out, followed immediately by Joel.
“Crash? Crash?” she yelled, knowing full well she shouldn’t be running through the hangar, but doing it anyway.
She rounded the tail of The Empress, and saw Crash spread-eagled on his back. She prayed he was joking. Or just stunned. As she closed the distance between them, she saw the pool of blood around his head.
“Shit, Crash. No!” she was out of breath, anxiety stealing the oxygen from her lungs as she fell by his motionless body, not knowing if she should touch him or not. Her hands hovered above him, not daring to make the wrong move, but not able to process, either.
Joel had jogged up and crouched down beside her. He brought up his holo and connected with the ship. “Emma, how long has he been down?”
“Not long,” she replied through his audio implant. “50 seconds now… 51.”
Joel ushered Maya out of the way, and he put his fingers to his friend’s neck. “He has a pulse. It’s weak, but…” he paused, estimating the rate under his fingertips. “It seems fast enough for now.”
A second later, his ear was by Crash’s mouth.
“He’s breathing.”
He reached up to his eyes, and gently pulled open his eyelids. “Pupils responding to the light…”
Maya had placed her hands on the floor around his head, careful not to put her hands in the blood. “So why isn’t he moving, then?” she asked, still horrified.
Joel straightened up. “He’s just knocked himself out. He should be okay. Lemme just…” He reached up and felt under Crash’s spine, checking each vertebra up and down his back. Then he gently felt around his skull, especially where it met the ground.
He looked up at Maya. “Okay, we need some kit before we move him,” he told her. “Go to the workshop. On one of the shelves to the left of the holoscreen, you’ll see an emergency case; bring it.”
Maya nodded and got up quickly, scuttling away. She passed Pieter and Paige, who had presumably received the same message.
They started to ask how he was, and Joel immediately reassured them.
“He’s going to be fine. Pieter, go grab a stretcher from the supply cupboard in the workshop. Paige, clean towels and warm water, please. He’s going to be okay.”
The two turned immediately to carry out the instructions.
Joel looked down. “You dummy, eh. I’ll bet you were pushing too hard,” he muttered under his breath to his unconscious friend.
“Emma, was there anything that happened before this that might give us a clue?”
Emma’s voice routed through his holo and his audio implant. “He was tired. He argued with me about not letting him run another simulation. I told him he needed to rest, and he was going for a break. My footage shows that he lost his footing, and fell. There weren’t any indications of symptoms other than fatigue before he fell, though.”
Joel nodded. “Okay, that’s something, then.” He looked up at the height he had fallen from, trying to convince himself it wasn’t that high. Then he looked back down at Crash, and put his hand on his friend’s forearm. “You’re going to be okay, buddy. Just hang in there. It’s all going to be fine.”
Maya arrived back with the med kit, and handed it straight to Joel. Joel put it on the floor and snapped it open, grabbing for the scanner. He ran the little tube with a guiding laser up and down Crash’s spine from above, and then circled his cranium. He looked at the reading on his holo.
“Slight swelling in the brain, but no bleeds,” he reported. Maya exhaled, relief flooding her body.
“How’s his neck?” she asked.
Joel flicked to another screen. “Nothing broken. Some of the tendons look inflamed, though. He’s probably going to feel sore, and have a headache for a while.”
Maya nodded. “Okay. So we can move him, at least?”
Joel shuffled back and nodded as he put the gear away. “Yeah, should be okay. Pieter is bringing a stretcher; I think we should get him to his quarters where he can rest comfortably.”
Maya agreed, and took the med kit from Joel. “I’ll take this back up, then,” she said striding off, trying to be useful. Joel didn’t notice the tear of relief that escaped her eye when she turned her back and scuttled away.
Chapter 13
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Crash’s quarters
Joel moved the party of concerned teammates into the living room so they could talk quietly away from Crash, who they had lain out on his bed. Brock remained at Crash’s side, sitting down gently next to the bed, in order to keep an eye on him.
“He’s going to be fine, guys,” Joel assured them as they gathered in the little lounge area in the suite. “Relax,” he insisted.
Pieter still looked concerned, and Jack stood silently with her arms folded.
Paige glanced back in Crash’s direction before looking back at the group. “I guess with what happened to Molly, we’re all a little sensitive, still.”
Joel bobbed his head, and touched her upper arm gently. “I know,” he empathized.
Just then, Neechie walked in, followed by Maya and Sean. Neechie headed straight for the bed; he hopped up and laid himself along Crash’s side. Maya couldn’t help but smile. She and Sean headed over to the little lounge area to join the rest of the group.
Joel put his hands on his hips. “It raises the question, though,” he started, not sure if he shouldn’t be having the conversation with Molly first.
He took a breath and aired it with the group, anyway.
“I know Sean, Crash, and I have combat medical training; but shouldn’t we have a real doctor here on base, too?”
Paige and Maya started nodding vigorously. Joel wasn’t sure if it was from a perspective of feeling safer if anything were to happen, or the fantasy of having a hot doctor join the team. He noticed them exchange a little smile, and promptly decided it was the latter.
Sean interrupted. “Well, there are a few options in that department,” he began.
Pieter’s face lit up. “You’re going to suggest one of those holoprograms, aren’t you?” His face practically beamed with enthusiasm.
Sean chuckled lightly. “Yeah, that’s one option. I mean, we’re relying on Oz for this kind of thing at the moment, but when Molly isn’t here, it becomes a point of failure — ”
There was a sudden awkward silence as Sean stopped in his tracks, remembering only too well how stranded and helpless they had felt when Molly went down, taking Oz with her.
Joel tried lightening the mood. “Plus, Oz can’t perform surgery.”
Sean looked over at him, a glimmer of suspicion in his eye.
“No. No, he can’t…” he said slowly.
Joel suspected Sean was contemplating his enhancements, so he deliberately tried not to look guilty.
Okay, don’t react, and don’t overcompensate. He can smell fear… Just play it cool, Joel told himself. Let someone else move the conversation away…
Sean noticed Joel looking a little sheepish, but he forced himself to peel his attention - and suspicions - away from Joel, and return to the options he’d been laying out.
“I think having a pod doc, like the one Molly was saved in, is probably not going to happen,” he admitted.
Joel scratched his head. “Yeah, I’m not sure how safe those are… given that Molly is out there, going through ancestors-know-what to be able to deal.”
Pieter nodded in support. “Yeah, seems like anything can happen in those. I don’t want to go in for a splinter, and come out as the Incredible Grindle-Meister.”
Jack lifted her arm from its folded position, raising her hand. “Me neither!” she exclaimed, half joking, half serious.
Brock’s voice carried through from the other room. “Nuh uh. Me three-ther!” he added.
Paige sniggered. “I guess that’s not a popular option, then, anyway.”
Brock wasn’t done. “A medical dock that turns us into superhumans or crazy, world-jumping people? Nooooooo, thank you!” he added. He got up from Crash’s side, and ambled over to join them. He leaned against the doorframe as Sean protested.
“Dude, that doesn’t happen. Ever. Molly was an… anomaly. I’ve been in a pod doc a million times…”
Maya raised an eyebrow.
“Okay,” conceded Sean. “Not a million, but you know what I mean.”
Brock still looked skeptical, and waved his hand dramatically in Sean’s direction. “I’d sooner die than be put in one of those things. I don’t care what you say it will do for my abs!” He pointed first at Sean’s chest and then ran his hand down the length of his own torso, looking coy.
Both Paige and Maya giggled. Joel tried hard not to burst out laughing, and even Jack cracked a smile despite the situation.
Sean’s lip curled in humor. “You people…“ he began, looking at the whole group, then shook his head. “Anyway, I don’t think we’d get authorization for one. But there are other options we already have that you should know about…”
He suddenly found he had the group’s rapt attention.
“The first thing is nanite infusions,” he explained. “They’re kept on the ship, in case someone gets badly injured. Yes, they contain the nanocytes that you’re all wary of now… but trust me – those little buggers are sometimes the best chance you have of surviving. We have a limited supply of them,” he glanced at Pieter, “so we won’t be using them for splinters.”
Brock started to point at Crash, his face animated.
Sean held his hand up. “He doesn’t need one. He’s going to be just fine. However,” he turned back to the group, “there is something else I haven’t shown you, yet, simply because there hasn’t been time to walk you through everything. But…”
He started walking towards the door, out of Crash’s quarters. The others just watched him leaving. He turned back.
“Well?” he beckoned to them. “Don’t you wanna see?”
The group followed him out, and down to the hangar deck.
Gaitune-67, Hangar deck, On board The Empress
Sean led the team up into The Empress. Everyone was feeling somewhat puzzled as to why they were back here.
“You’ve been on this ship so many times before,” he told them as they gathered in the cabin area, “but you’ve probably only been in a fraction of the places there are on board.”
He stood in the little passageway between the cockpit and the cabin, and put his hand on a door panel that they’d each walked past a dozen times or more. He pushed, and the panel pressed in and then slid sideways, opening up a staircase.
Sean indicated to it. “I’ll go down first, because there isn’t much room, and I’ll need to open the access up. Just follow me,” he instructed.
Paige was wide-eyed, excited by the new discovery. She glanced back at Maya, who nodded her on, and the two followed Sean down first. The others came after, and then, finally, Joel brought up the rear, shaking his head at the ever-unfolding mystery that was Sean Royale and the base of magical toys.
The passageway was lit with low blue light coming from the foot guides and handrails. As they spilled into the corridor that seemed to run the length of the ship, maybe one story down from the cabin, the lights automatically turned on.
Brock whistled, impressed.
There were doors coming off the corridors. The first one looked like a small situation room. Brock noticed the acoustic paneling, and figured it was probably soundproof — and goodness knows what else.
The next door along, Sean stopped and keyed something into the access panel.
“This, ladies and gentlemen, is the medical bay for The Empress.” The double doors slid open, allowing the party to pass into the room that was filled with hospital-like beds and docks, presumably to treat the wounded in.
There were access panels all around; panels for each dock, and panels that had various diagnostic screens on them.
Sean waved them all to come in, and Emma flicked up onto the screen. “Hello, Sean. How is Crash doing?” Her human-looking face showed genuine concern. Her hazel eyes even seemed tinged with empathy at his accident.
“He’s doing okay. Sleeping it off,” Sean told her. “Thanks, Emma.”
Emma frowned a little. “So why are you wanting to bring him in here for me to take care of?”
Sean grinned and indicated back at the group. “These guys didn’t know you had all these toys down here, which is why I’m showing them now.”
As if on cue, Emma lit up the different panels and the walkway between the docks, illustrating the tech they had at their disposal.
She smiled as a few gasps escaped the mouths of her teammates.
Sean bobbed his head, his hands on his hips. “All right. Stop showing off, and explain why these docks are different from the pod doc that Molly experienced on the ArchAngel.”
Emma smiled. “With pleasure,” she said to Sean, before turning her holo-representation to the group.
“What you have here, are docks that do everything the pod docs do – without the nanocyte technology. So they can heal, but they can’t enhance. They still use nanites – just not the special ones that came from the Kurtherians. These nanites have been developed the old-fashioned way: by humans, over the decades. They are designed to heal any type of tissue, in any species for which we have mapped the genome. It cannot bring you back to life, though; so if you have a splinter, don’t let it put you on death’s door before you get treated.”
The group chuckled, and Pieter looked confused. “How did you hear that?”
Emma smiled knowingly. “Sean opened his connection to me, so I had a heads-up you were on your way down. Figured he couldn’t keep everything on this ship a secret forever,” she added, glancing at Sean and practically rolling her eyes at him.
Brock started wandering around and examining the docks, poking at the options on the panels. Joel had been taking it all in quietly.
“So, er, why don’t we test these babies out, and get our unconscious friend into one of them to recover?”
Sean turned his mouth down and stuck out his bottom lip. “Sure thing. I mean, he’ll be fine, but this will certainly accelerate his healing better than mother nature.” He winked at Emma’s holo-representation.
She smiled back. “Damn right, they will,” she told him.
Joel turned to the group. “Okay, Brock, Pieter – wanna help me bring Crash down here?”
He started to move toward the door. “Paige, Maya – see if you can contact Oz and find out when Molly is going to be back. I have a feeling she ought to know… even though everything is under control.”
Paige nodded, and the team filed out.
Gaitune- 67, Safe house, Crash’s quarters
“Okay, switch the antigrav on only once the stretcher is under him,” Joel instructed gently.
He and Brock hauled Crash’s sleeping body onto the stretcher, and Pieter shuffled around them to be as helpful as he could without getting in the way.
“Okay. Now,” he told Pieter, nodding at the tiny control panel woven into the fabric. Pieter fiddled with it, and the stretcher levitated.
Joel felt his holo buzz. It was Oz.
WHERE IS EVERYONE?
Joel tapped back. CRASH’S QUARTERS. HAS MOLLY HAD THE SIT REP FROM EMMA?
YES, Oz messaged back.
Just then, footsteps were heard down the hall.
Joel looked at Brock and Pieter. “Molly’s back,” he told them. “Go ahead and take Crash down to the ship. We can explain on the way.”
Just as the boys were guiding the stretcher out of the room and into the main suite, Molly came rushing to the door, a look of horror on her face. “Tell me this isn’t happening,” she pleaded.
Joel rushed to her and put his hands on her upper arms, holding her in place as Brock and Pieter moved around her and continued with their task.
Molly watched as Crash was levitated past her.
Joel talked as her eyes followed the stretcher. “It’s okay, Molly. He’s going to be fine. He just knocked himself out. He has a bump on his head, and small laceration; there’s no indication of serious damage.”
He relaxed his grip on her, and she turned around, watching Crash leave.
“But, I – ” she started.
Joel didn’t know whether to touch her again or not. His hand hesitated over her shoulder before he pulled it back.
“He’s okay. They’re taking him to The Empress so that Emma can put him in a med dock and fix him up. Sean says he’ll recover just fine without it, but I think they wanted a chance to show off what all this tech can do.” He smiled a little, trying to lighten the mood.
Molly turned to look at him, tears forming in her eyes. “Joel. I saw him on the floor, with blood coming out of his head.”
Joel frowned. “What? When?”
“During one of my visions,” she explained. A tear escaped and trickled down her face. “I thought he was dead.”
Joel wrapped his arms around her, and she couldn’t hold back the tears.
“Joel, I’m scared. I’m scared for these people. I’m scared I can’t protect them. I’m scared that something worse is going to happen.”
He rubbed her back, trying to soothe her. Her sobbing continued.
“And I’m scared of what is happening to me…”
Joel stayed where he was; not talking, not trying to figure it out for her. Just being there, as Molly sobbed quietly in his arms.
Chapter 14
Gaitune-67, Arlene’s residence
Arlene pulled her truck up to the far side of the house. The house had been there since they first settled on the asteroid, built for the first settlers to quietly start creating a community – a community that would keep to themselves and not be in contact with the rest of the system, so that Bethany Anne’s secret would remain safe.
Arlene hopped out of the truck, leaving her gear in the back, and headed straight into the house via the two doors of the airlock. Once inside, she took off her jacket, and threw it on the sofa in the living room. She left her boots on and marched through.
The whole house was sparse – one might say spartan, but for a Sphinx basket over in the far corner of the room. Arlene didn’t hang about. She knew Lance wanted a report. She headed over to the paneled wall and pushed it in, opening the secret door into her comm room beyond.
She stepped inside and breathed a sigh of relief just to be back home. The control room was her familiar place; the place that reminded her about her connection with humanity, and the Empire, and life on the ArchAngel. Sure, she had volunteered to come here with her family in the early days, but her visits back to the ArchAngel for training were some of the best times of her life.
She headed straight for the console, and sat down in the invisible, melding chair that materialized around her. She hit the CONNECT button.
Moments later, her call was routed through the Etheric, and connected with the ArchAngel. Then the General was alerted. After a minute or two, the holo unfolded, putting the two into a conference call.
“Greetings, Arlene,” Lance said, his young face looking back at her. “How is the rock treating you?”
Arlene bobbed her head from side to side. “Oh, you know. Same old,” she said politely. Lance detected that despite her lackluster response, she was secretly pleased that Gaitune had finally come into play after all these years.
“I have news,” she told him.
Lance sat down in his console chair and grabbed his cigar. It looked like it had already been pretty chewed up. He didn’t move to put it in his mouth.
Arlene began her report. “Well, as you know, I’ve been in touch with ADAM since he first heard about her… developments. The meditation was helping her take control of some of the shifting, but, as time wore on, she seemed to become more and more powerful.”
Lance frowned. “Do we know where the power is coming from?” he asked, not looking up from the cigar he was handling.
Arlene nodded, knowing that Lance already suspected the answer. “Yes. Yes, she is drawing from the Etheric.” Arlene shook her head. “The only thing I can think of is the nanocytes are allowing her to do it.” She sighed, and Lance could tell there was more.
He leaned in a little closer, intrigued. “So… what else?” he asked.
Arlene straightened her posture a little. “It seems she’s able to shift through dimensions — similar to the old Estarian rituals for ascension.”
She paused.
Lance waited.
“But… she also mentioned Bethany Anne.”
Lances eyes flew wide. He readjusted his position in his seat, leaning his hand on the armrest, and cocking his head to one side to try and hear better.
“How? I mean… how is that even possible?” he said, his voice catching in a cough.
Arlene shrugged. “I’m not sure yet. It’s like she’s using the Estarian technique to access the Etheric. I mean, in all the time I spent with Bethany Anne researching the Etheric, I was never able to find a connection between the other realms and the Etheric.”
She paused, and went quiet.
“I don’t suppose she ever mentioned anything to you? About other realms?” she pressed.
Lance shook his head while taking a deep breath and looking off into the distance. “No. I mean, I know she and Michael were working on developing their abilities and skills by drawing on the Etheric, and of course moving in and out of it; but there was never any talk of them seeing anything else…”
His voice trailed off.
“I suppose,” he said finally, “it might be possible they just didn’t share it with anyone.” Lance brought his attention back to the call. “I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time she was careful about keeping certain information quiet for the sake of security.”
There was a long pause between the two. Arlene’s eyes fell to the console in front of her. There was a thin film of dust over the surface. She idly traced her finger through it, making a pattern, while they contemplated their next move.
Eventually Lance spoke. “Giles is on board.” Arlene looked up. “I have a meeting with him later on today. I’ll run it by him, and see if he has any idea.”
Arlene smiled. “He’s back?” she asked, her face brightening.
Lance nodded. “Yeah. He’s… passing through.”
She rolled her eyes. “That boy is always passing through!” she exclaimed.
Lance bobbed his head, and then shook it while fiddling with his cigar. “You know,” he said smiling, “I’ll never understand why he insists on looking so old. He don’t look anything like a boy.”
Arlene chuckled. “At the academy, we always assumed it was reverse vanity or something.”
Lance chuckled. “Well, whatever it is. If he can figure this conundrum out, it may just make up for all the years of funding I’ve sunk into his education and ‘research’.” He made quotation marks in the air with his fingers as he said the last word.
Arlene knew only too well what the General meant. She’d been along on one of his ‘research’ projects, which mostly involved hanging out with a small tribe in the middle of a non-space-going system, drinking their elixir of life night after night.
She smiled, shaking her head. “Well, give him my best, then. And tell him I’m still waiting for him to publish that paper from our last trip.”
The General dropped his cigar and straightened up. “I will. I’ll let you know if we learn anything that can help with the Bates situation. In the meantime, though,” his voice returned to serious work mode, “keep an eye on her as best you can. We don’t know what caused this, or what it means. I think we both understand that in military terms, this is potentially either a threat or a weapon; we’d be foolish to consider it otherwise.”
Arlene nodded solemnly. “I understand. I’ll be around,” she confirmed.
Lance nodded and held up his hand in a wave before ending the call.
Arlene sat quietly in her little control room a bit longer, considering the conversation and remembering her time with Giles. Eventually, she picked up the empty mocha cup she had left on the console the morning before last, and ambled out into the house’s kitchen.
Onboard the ArchAngel, General Reynolds’s Office
Giles strode through the open door to the General’s office suite and glanced around. There was no one in the main room, but he could hear movement in the office area.
He took another step inside and hesitated.
A moment later, Lance appeared, his boyishly young face the same as it had been when Giles was a kid.
“Hello, G-man!” Lance greeted him, walking into the room and shaking his hand before embracing him warmly.
“Hello, Uncle Lance. How are you?” Giles returned the one-armed hug and the manly patting on the back.
“Good. Goooood,” the General responded, releasing Giles from his hug. “How are you, young man?” he asked, looking Giles up and down. “I hear you had a close call out in the Terroc regions a few months back?”
Giles nodded, his eyes looking suddenly old as he scratched at the back of his head. “Yeah. Yeah, it was a rough time. I was lucky, though.” He paused, bringing his eyes up to meet the General’s. “And I appreciate you pulling a few strings to get me out of there. Really. Thank you, General.”
Lance waved a hand, and put his arm around the boy. “Don’t mention it. I’d never hear the last of it from your father if I’d left you there to rot.” He walked Giles over to the sofas and offered him a seat. Then he headed over to the tray of drinks.
Giles bobbed his head as he sat down. “I heard that my mother said to leave me there and let me learn my lesson about wandering into hostile territories.” He wore a half-smile, and his eyes seemed tinged with sadness.
The General turned around, having poured a Scotch, and walked over to hand it to him. “You know that’s just her way of saying she wished you’d stay home and out of trouble.”
Giles took the drink, and nodded his thanks. “Yeah, I guess,” he agreed. “I know she means well.”
The General smiled. “Barb is from a different age. Survival was all-important back then - before the nanocytes, and so on. People had to be more careful. More wary. Plus, you know what she went through.”
Giles nodded. He knew the General made sense, and yet…
“I dunno. I always feel like she’s judging my lifestyle choice.”
The General poured himself a Scotch and turned around, a big grin on his face. “My boy, everyone is judging your lifestyle choice!”
The two of them laughed, breaking the seriousness of the conversation. They raised their glasses and took their first sip.
“Good to see you, you nomadic hippie-ghost hunter,” the General told the middle-aged-looking professor.
Giles smiled. “You too, Uncle.”
The General regarded the man in front of him and shook his head, smiling. “You know, I still don’t understand why you had your nanocytes reprogrammed to make you look old,” he remarked quietly, as if musing to himself.
Giles grinned back at Lance. “I don’t look old. I look forty!”
The General nodded. “Yes. Forty. I never did understand that.”
Giles shrugged and leaned back in the sofa, resting his tumbler on his leg and holding it with two fingers.
“Well, my father sits behind a desk, sheltered in this palace of a ship. He never need interact with anyone from a culture he doesn’t understand. And outside the Etheric Empire, age counts for something; it’s sacred. It’s respected.”
Lance looked genuinely curious, his jesting subsided. “You mean you find your research easier when people don’t assume you’re a kid?”
Giles nodded once. “Precisely what I’m saying.”
Lance chuckled, pulled a fresh cigar out of his pocket, and popped it in his mouth before sitting on the other sofa.
Giles turned in his seat to face him. “Have you seen my father recently?” he asked.
The General’s tone became almost chatty. “Yes, he and Barb were around for supper the other week. He’s embarrassed about his golf swing, and your mother is poking at all kinds of projects and investigations we have ongoing in the various systems.”
“Ha!” Giles exclaimed. “Just like Mom; she never could leave anything alone.”
Lance nodded, almost solemnly. “Yes. And sometimes we have to reel her back in to keep her safe. And keep her from starting a galactic war… but it’s all par for the course.”
Giles shook his head. “She’s such a hypocrite!” he mused, looking into his Scotch glass. “Well, I hope she’s not giving you too much trouble.”
The General chuckled. “Not at all, chap. I’m glad we have her on the team,” he assured him.
Giles’s curiosity was burning, and he was dying to find out what he’d missed since he was last in with the General for a briefing.
“So I’m assuming you didn’t have ADAM bring me up here just to do small talk?”
The General took a deep breath, his demeanor shifting again into work-mode. “No. You guessed right,” he confirmed. “Of course, I’d like the usual update on your travels and investigations; but first,” he got up and moved over to the holo in the middle of the side wall, “I wonder if I can ask for your expert opinion on something?”
Giles shuffled forward onto the edge of his seat, placing the Scotch glass on the glass coffee table in front of him.
“Of course, sir.”
Lance smiled at the ‘sir’ part. Having watched Giles grow up on this very ship, and now having the man in front of him calling him ‘sir’ as soon as they got down to business – he couldn’t help but be amused at the cultural norms.
“ADAM, could you put what we know about Molly’s situation onscreen, please?”
The holoscreen opened out as an array of several screens. Lance pulled one out and pushed it over for Giles to see.
“These are the neuroscans we took when she was in the pod doc. She was brought to us after being shot.”
Giles looked up, a little concerned. “And this is the operative you recruited for Gaitune?” he confirmed.
Lance nodded. “Yes. The same one.”
Giles studied the screen and flicked through the time-lapse layers, watching the repair happen. Then he quickly flicked through to the final scan. His eyes widened a little, and his head moved backward in shock.
“You notice something?” Lance asked.
Giles glanced up, and then returned his eyes to the scan. “Er. Yes…” He hesitated, a little distracted.
Lance waited.
Giles finally looked up, and turned the holo so Lance could view it, too.
“See this area of the brain here?” he pointed at an area in the middle of the head. Then, using his thumb and forefinger, he pulled the image out, and expanded it into a three dimensional representation. He turned the image of the color-mapped brain while Lance watched carefully. Giles expanded it again, and pointed into the temporal lobe area.
“This area here is more active than in a normal human. It’s associated with various psychic phenomena, ranging from the Seers of the Sandrahine, through to the Shamans of Earth – even the Ascending Estarians register this area of their brains as being more active than in normal brains.”
He sat back, allowing the General to study the scan data longer. Lance didn’t look up. “So you’re telling me that her physiology is changed? As a result of the pod doc?”
Giles pursed his lips. “I can’t tell from this if it is a result of the pod doc or not. I mean, her whole brain was shut down at the beginning of the scan.”
He flipped the time code back to the beginning to show Lance the contrast. “This means that we can’t know if she already had the activity in her brain when it was functioning normally, or whether it was a result of the enhancement that the pod doc created. Though if that were the case, I suspect we would have seen more instances of it before now…” His voice faded a little as he considered something else.
Lance noticed Giles was thinking, and looked over at him before perching on the seat next to him.
Giles realized the General was waiting for him to explain.
“I think the other thing to consider,” he said, looking over at Lance, “is that perhaps death was the thing that triggered this awakening of activity.” Giles shrugged, showing he wasn’t attached to the idea. “Of course,” he tipped his head slightly as he explained, “there are countless documented cases of people coming back with enhanced cognitive function in certain areas - especially since our technology is becoming more effective at restoring brain activity within the death window.”
Lance glanced at him, and then sat back in the sofa, contemplating. “Anything else?” he asked.
Giles flicked back through the scan, and then honed in on one time slice to view the construction of the neurons.
“Her brain scans show that her neurons are different, too. Might have something to do with her heightened intelligence,” Giles paused, and closed down the scans. He turned and looked at Lance again.
“…but also may be why the AI selected her.”
The General took the cigar from his mouth and rubbed his face, now leaning with his elbows on his knees.
Giles studied him carefully. “What is it?” he asked, being careful not to overstep a mark.
Lance shook his head gently. “Well, if she does have Etheric abilities, which is what your old friend Arlene is suggesting, what does this mean?”
Giles brightened. “Ah, you’ve spoken to Arlene?”
The General nodded. “Yes,” he smiled dryly. “She sends her best – and asked when you were going to get around to publishing that paper.”
Giles blushed, and looked away uncomfortably.
Lance caught that there was more of a story there, and decided it was something to tease him about later over dinner. He stayed on-task. “She took the girl out on some kind of Estarian Vision Quest. Does that mean anything to you?”
Giles nodded excitedly. “Ooh. Yes. Yes it does.” He stood up as if he couldn’t contain his enthusiasm. “What she’s probably seen is her shift into the different realms; which makes sense, from her physiology.” He pointed back at the open holoscreens and then started pacing, animating his hands in front of him as he talked.
“I’m wondering… You’re sure Arlene mentioned she touched the Etheric?”
Lance nodded. “Yep. It’s the kind of thing one tends to remember.”
Giles shook his head, a look of amazement on his face. “Well,” he sighed brightly. “Guess I should have a conversation with Arlene,” he decided.
Lance nodded absently. “Of course. She’s on Gaitune, still. You can connect with her through ADAM.”
Giles brought his enthused anthropological mystical mind back to Lance, recognizing that he was still perplexed by the details they’d been discussing.
“You’re worried about what this means for The Empire?” he guessed.
Lance nodded. “I am. If it’s induced by the pod doc, or by the near-death, then it looks like Bethany Anne, Michael, and the Five aren’t the only ones who will have the advantage of the Etheric.” Lance seemed to pull himself back from his thoughts. “Of course, everything we’ve discussed is classified,” he remarked gruffly, chewing on his cigar.
Giles nodded. “Of course, sir.”
Lance stood up and walked over to the drinks tray, topping off his own tumbler, and then reaching for Giles’s, which was almost untouched on the coffee table. He topped his off a little, anyway.
“Do some digging for me? I want to know everything there is to know - including what the likely causes are, and also if it can be weaponized.”
Lance turned his attention back to Giles’s face just in time to see him react in pacifist, academic horror at his last word.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, taking another swig of Scotch. “You know that’s exactly the question Bethany Anne would be asking if she were here.”
Giles lowered his eyes. “Yes, of course.” He took a deep breath and wandered back to the sofa to drink some of his Scotch before Lance would whisk him off to the officers’ mess for dinner.
“I knew a hundred years of playing in cultural anthropology funded by the Empire was going to require some kind of payback, eventually,” Giles grinned carefully, trying not to spill his Scotch through his smile as he took another sip.
Lance caught his eye and smiled back, raising his glass. Giles wasn’t positive, but he could have sworn he saw the General wink at him.
Chapter 15
On board The Empress, Gaitune-67, Hangar Deck
Paige and Maya stood in The Empress’s medical bay, watching Pieter and Brock steer Crash into one of the med docks. Thanks to Emma showing them the troop entrance into the ship from the bottom, they didn’t have to try and maneuver him through the narrow passageway and into the upstairs of the craft.
“How are they going to get him inside?” Maya whispered to Paige as they watched them line him up with the nearest dock.
Sean overheard them as he strode back in. “We lift the stretcher in, and then deactivate it and leave it there for when we want to help him back out,” he told them.
Pieter and Brock heard, and set about doing just that.
As they were lifting him in, Molly and Joel wandered in. Molly’s eyes were red and puffy, and Joel’s t-shirt was wet on the shoulder. It was clear to Paige that he had been taking care of her, and rather than make a thing of her crying, she just waved and smiled a little.
Molly waved back before heading over to the med dock to see Crash. “How’s he doing?” she asked Sean.
Crash had been lowered into the coffin-like dock, and Sean pressed a few buttons on the holo panel. “How about we ask Emma what her diagnosis is?”
Molly nodded and watched as the field powered up and started scanning the body inside.
Emma’s voice came from the dock panel. “Crash is operating within acceptable parameters: heart rate, normal for resting; blood pressure normal; brain activity… compromised; slight concussion, and a lack of consciousness. One laceration, one inch long; slight swelling around the brain. Implementing brain-swell-reduction and repair.
The plane of light that had been scanning Crash’s body swept deftly up to his head, and started moving slowly around the affected area. It glided slowly back and forth along a section marked between his nose and eyes – back and forth, back and forth.
Paige whispered to Maya. “It looks like it’s 3D-printing his brain back together.”
Maya nodded without taking her eyes from the pod.
Joel noticed that Molly was holding her breath as she watched.
Was this what it was like when I was in the pod doc?
Not really. I mean, I can’t tell because I was inside you, but from the repair that I noticed, it wasn’t in one area at a time – it was more an all-over, gradual improvement. But that was different technology, that tapped into your DNA. I suspect here we’re looking at some form of growth stimulation.
Hmm. I’d be interested to find out more about it. Can you find out from Emma later?
Sure. Us AIs love to have a chinwag over interesting topics.
You’re kidding?
No. I’m serious. It’s nice to have friends of my own species.
Molly smiled to herself, hugging her arms around her body, comforted that Oz was happy and making actual friends.
Emma’s voice interrupted over the dock speaker. “Brain repair complete. Shall I wake the subject?”
Sean pressed a button, and had a quick look at a few charts that Molly couldn’t quite make out from over his shoulder.
“Yes, please, Emma. Wake Crash up, if you would.”
Haha. She got rumbled for calling him a ‘subject’! I’m totally LOL-ing over here.
Oz…
Molly shook her head, smiling to herself, trying not to look like the crazy person in the room.
Pieter and Brock were looking hopeful. Almost relieved.
A moment later, Crash’s breathing became more pronounced, and his eyes flickered, and then opened. He took some proper breaths, and started to look around, bewildered.
Molly put her hand to her chest and stepped back, breathing deeper herself. In her case, it was from relief.
Brock moved closer to Crash and put his hand on Crash’s chest. He was talking with him quietly, explaining that he had a fall, and that they were in a medical bay on The Empress.
Molly backed off a little more and moved toward the door, followed by Joel. The two quietly stepped out into the corridor, leaving the rest of the team to welcome Crash back into the world.
Molly ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it out of her face and holding her head, as she took a few paces.
“Hey,” Joel called after her. “You doing okay?” he asked.
She turned and smiled a brave smile. “Yeah. Glad he’s okay. That was… intense.”
Joel nodded. “Okay. Let’s get you some food and rack time. And I want to hear more about what happened out there. Something tells me this realm thing hasn’t been resolved, if you rushed back here.”
Molly bobbed her head from side to side indicating a, ‘yes and no’. She sighed.
“Yeah. I guess not; but I have made progress.”
She started telling him about the last two days’ events, as they left the ship and made their way back up to the safe house.
Gaitune-67, Base conference room
Two days later, things seemed to have returned to normal.
Crash, completely healed, was back to practicing on The Empress with Emma, and everyone else was working on their respective tasks. By the afternoon, Molly had called a team meeting to decide on their plan of action.
The team was tired from their preparations; Brock seemed to be functioning mostly on mocha, and even Pieter was a little wired, suggesting they’d been burning the midnight oil together to get the tech up to spec.
Despite Crash’s near miss, he was also looking fatigued – although Oz had reported back to Molly that Emma was implementing a much stricter rest routine for him. Paige and Maya weren’t looking their usual well-manicured selves, and had resorted to walking around the base in sweat gear and overalls, rather than their usual haute couture. Paige had even taken to pulling her hair up to save on maintenance.
The only ones who truly looked bright-eyed and battle-ready were Jack, Sean, and Joel. Molly suspected that it had something to do with their experience with mission prep, and being able to keep themselves in peak condition in the run up to a mission. Life in the military forces one to be ready for anything, whether it’s moving out at a moment’s notice, or, indeed, sitting around waiting, and then having to move at a moment’s notice.
Molly had been off mocha for a while now, still unable to keep it down, and, in coming to terms with that, she was finding a new rhythm.
Molly convened the meeting – her focus on all the moving parts, preventing her from being distracted by the extraneous details of social interaction.
“Okay, folks, let’s get to it,” she announced, and the hub-bub settled in seconds.
“The overall picture is this,” she told them. “In less than 48 hours from now, we need to be heading back to the planet, Kurilia. Once there, we will implement our plan to ensure that all secret military capabilities are permanently disabled. This is a precision mission,” she explained.
She glanced around at the attentive faces of her teammates.
“Not only that,” she continued, “but Oz’s team will implant the worm that will monitor their whole operation from the moment we leave the planet. Paige’s team will deploy what we’re calling a ‘disclosure campaign’.”
Molly paused, seeming to speak with Oz for a moment. Then she brought her attention back to the team.
“I know this last point is a little… unconventional, but, having discussed it with ADAM, we’re looking to try something new; something that will hopefully prevent a backlash down the line. We haven’t got time to go into the whys and wherefores, but, in essence, the Federation is hoping that the Zhyn will eventually become allies. The less we give them to be resentful about, the better. Maya will explain more when we get to this item.”
Oz, can you pull up the mission summary so everyone can track the key elements?
On it.
“Right let’s dig into the details,” she said, indicating to the hologram opening from the center of the table.
The screen unfolded to reveal a bulleted list of the mission objectives:
> Disable the secret military bases
> Deploy software worm to take comms and weapons offline - permanently
> Deploy media campaign to reveal the secret agenda to the populace
Sean whistled quietly through his teeth. “That’s a lot to accomplish with just our little team,” he said quietly.
Molly heard, and nodded. “That’s why we need a super-enhanced cyborg on our side.” There was a chuckle through the room. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen one anywhere?” There was more laughter.
Joel pushed his chair back and pretended to look under the table. Pieter was laughing silently, and started gently tapping the table in amusement with the flat of his hand. The mood lightened despite the complexity of the mission ahead of them.
Sean nodded, turning a little pink, and took the shit that was being handed to him.
Molly continued, still smiling. “We also have lots of other advantages we can leverage. As you’ll see.” She looked pointedly at Sean, wanting to be able to continue with the briefing.
He had his hands flat on the table in front of him, and, getting the point of her stare, he raised his hands slightly, conceding the floor to her.
Molly continued. “Okay. Disabling the military capabilities. This has several phases to it. Joel, this is your piece of the op; wanna explain the phases?”
Joel pushed back his seat and stood up, bringing up a map of the planet, and all the bases that were their targets.
“Sure,” he said, as he prepared his screens.
“Our goal,” he told them, “is to take out only the secret military bases. Not the official, legitimate ones.”
He paused, making sure everyone understood that. Then he continued.
“At each of the secret bases, we will take out the weapons systems, the communications systems, and their power. Nothing else. We’re trying to do this with minimal casualties, and the last thing we want is to get stuck in a firefight. We want to be in and out.”
“To that end,” he continued, “let’s look at the potential issues – because there is no getting around having to put boots on the ground, with this one.”
He put his hands up in front of him, and used the movement to zoom in on the holomap of two targets that were fairly close together. “Oz’s team has got the comms and weapons covered. Most of our ground targets can be addressed using nanodrones, which Oz will also remotely deploy and target. But,” he paused, flicking the map over to another layer, “there are a few targets where we will need to physically deploy charges.”
He indicated to the two he’d zoomed in on, and then showed them a third on the southern hemisphere. He looked around the room, and then down at Molly sitting on his right-hand side.
“These are the three targets. Two of them are close to their skylifts. The other one is just over a mile’s hike from the first target.”
Maya put her hand up. “What are those targets, though?” she asked.
Joel zoomed in again, showing their outline more clearly. “They’re generators. We know this from Oz’s intel. What we can’t see, is where to blow them up – because they’re shielded with Faraday cages and forcefields. We need to be on the ground to figure it out, and then set the charges in the weak spots. Too much firepower in this area could cause all kinds of destruction. We need to be precise…”
His voice trailed off as he wondered how much detail to share with them. He shook his head minutely, and decided to move on with the intel they needed to know.
“On the plus side, Brock has come up with a way to detonate all the charges remotely. So as long as we can get in and out, Oz can take care of the rest.”
Joel returned to his seat and checked some notes on his holo. “To this end, we’ll deploy two teams. Team one: Sean and Molly. They will take the first two targets. Team two is myself and Jack. We will be dropped on the southern hemisphere skylift to take out the third target. With a bit of luck, we can each get back to our respective skylifts before all hell breaks loose.”
He looked matter-of-fact, but Paige was paying close attention to his micro expressions. There was something he was concerned about in his last statement. She made a mental note to find out what was bothering him.
Joel continued with his briefing.
“This brings us on to Oz’s part of the mission. Oz will be responsible for the detonation – which he’ll hopefully hold off on until we’re back at the top of the skylift, and ready to be extracted. Oz, you want to take the next section?”
Oz’s voice cracked over the comm system. “Sure. Yes, I’ll be waiting to detonate everything after you’ve been extracted. However, there are other layers of the assault that can’t wait. Pieter, Paige, Maya, and myself have been working on a number of things to take out the various systems. Pieter and I are going to be able to take out their weapons permanently, by corrupting every last line of code running in those secret bases. Not only that, but we have a fireworks display of technological destruction planned, where we can overheat critical points of hardware, too. There will be nothing left of these bases that they can use.”
Sean grinned, nodding his head in appreciation of the prospect of technological carnage. Pieter glanced over, his eyes catching the movement, and, despite his fatigue, he grinned back.
“Then all that leaves is the PR campaign,” Oz added. “Maya?”
Maya sat up straighter and began to explain her part of the operation.
“The public communication campaign will be broadcast on all civilian channels, reeducating the population as to what is really happening on their planet. It will expose the secret bases that have been built in contravention to the Jah-Dune Accord. It will also explain why this is a problem, in terms of inter-world affairs, and how their Emperor is effectively putting a target on them by pursuing this aggressive secret-armament strategy.”
Molly picked up the explanation. “The reason for doing this is to stop the military from hacking straight into civilian resources to try and rearm, and re-engage,” she told them. “If the public is aware of the issue, they will have a revolt on their hands.”
She got up and started pacing the long side of the conference room.
“According to ADAM, there is history to suggest that where the government has betrayed the wishes of the people, there have been dire consequences. Fortunately, this means the people will likely be on our side. They want peace, but what is happening right now is that their military is going rogue because they have had so little accountability.”
Molly glanced back at the bulleted list still on display at the center of the large conference table.
“Okay. We’ve covered all the main elements. Anything else?”
Brock waved his hand. “Yeah. I think it’s worth mentioning that we’ve adapted some of the gear to make it less kill-y and more disable-y.”
Molly nodded. “Yes, of course. Since our aim is only to disable the secret military bases, I felt that some of the weaponry we had for the ground operation was a little… brutal. Brock has been working to adapt some of it.”
She paused, looking at Sean, knowing his view on the subject. “Of course, if we need to kill, that setting is still available on the blasters; but where we can avoid it, we now have the option. Brock,” she turned back to him, “if you can fit in a quick training session with the folks who will be carrying them on the ride in, that would be great.”
Brock nodded.
Molly looked around the table. “Anything else?”
There were lots of headshakes and mumbles. Molly concluded the meeting.
“Okay, great. Between now and departure, I want everyone to get as much rest as they can. We all need to be at our best, and that means not over-training, and not pushing ourselves to exhaustion.”
She deliberately avoided eye contact with Crash so that he didn’t feel like he was being singled out.
“Okay, folks. Dismissed,” she concluded.
The antigrav chairs were pushed out as the team got up and milled around, either talking or moving on to the next thing they needed to get done. Gradually, the room emptied out under an air of focus, and a sense of “getting shit done.”
Chapter 16
On Board The Empress, Koin Star System
“This is your captain speaking.” Crash’s voice came over the ship-wide intercom.
“We are fast-approaching our destination. The weather on Kurilia is sunny, with a light westernly breeze, and a 90% chance of anarchy. We will shortly commence our descent to the skylifts, where you will be taken to the surface, free of charge, by our sponsors, Kurilia Media. On arrival, please keep your hands and arms inside the ship, and do not feed the animals. Make sure your weapons are fully charged, and remember: have a nice day.”
Jack, Sean, and Joel were already in the basement, ready to deploy the trapdoor and drop frame. Kitted up, they waited patiently to pick up the somewhat cumbersome Zhyn blasters. They all smiled, amused at Crash’s announcement, and all secretly thinking how glad they were that he was okay.
Molly heard the announcement, too, and she started to get her stuff together from her seat in the back of the cabin. She’d been practicing her meditation and breathing, and finding herself more in control.
Okay. This is it, Oz.
We’ve got this; Pieter is almost ready to deploy the worm. We’ll be good as soon as we’re within orbit.
Great.
Molly stopped suddenly, and, though she’d been starting to get up, she quickly sat back down.
Everything all right?
Er. I’m not sure. I…
Molly, your adrenaline has spiked and you’re releasing excess cortisol.
You mean I’m experiencing fear?
It seems so. What did you just start thinking about?
Nothing new. I was just thinking about putting the rest of my gear on. But then…
She paused, and then looked around the cabin.
What is it?
I just had a sense of Paige.
Paige?
Yeah. So, you know how I told you about my time out on the asteroid, and how Arlene had me tune into each person and read them?
Yes.
Well, I think I just accidentally read Paige.
Oops.
Yeah. She’s nervous, thinking about all the things that could go wrong.
That can’t be good.
Hmm. Okay, lemme see if I can close it down.
Molly got up, and took herself down to the basement. She descended the steps, careful to keep herself grounded and present, as Arlene had showed her.
Molly? What is it now?
I’m picking up on the others. Sean, Jack, and Joel. I can feel each of them clearly.
Can you close it down?
I’m not sure. I’m going to try.
Molly stood still where she was for a minute, breathing and trying to center herself.
Oz. It’s not working.
Why not?
Molly shook her head and tried to ignore the feelings that were rushing through her system. She entered the room to see the guys opening the trapdoor.
I dunno. Shit, I need to get ready.
“Cutting it a little fine, Mollz,” Sean said in battle-jest. She could feel his edginess coming out, behind his words. This was how he coped with the pressure and the adrenaline. She suspected it also helped with the camaraderie; she felt it a little in the other warriors assembled, too.
“Yeah,” she agreed, walking over to where the rest of her body armor was. She quickly got it on, and checked her holsters. Finally, she found her wooden baton, and stuffed it down between the holsters and vest on her back.
Can still feel them all.
You doing okay?
Yeah. Just feeling a little icky, and like my energy is being depleted by it.
Think you should tell someone?
Right, and give Sean another reason to think that I’m a bad leader? I don’t think so.
He doesn’t think that.
No, but he does think that I’m physically weak, and probably shouldn’t be on this mission until I’ve got this realm shit sorted out.
How do you know that?
I can feel it from him.
Are you sure? I mean, projection, eh?
Nope. I’m not sure. I can never be sure. But since the Vision Quest, I’m learning to trust my gut.
Okay. As long as your gut doesn’t get you thinking things that aren’t there.
Yeah. Anyway – time to focus.
Molly walked over to the arms rack on the far side of the room, and pulled one of the blasters off of it. She checked the settings: safety, on, off, and the toggle for kill versus stun.
The others were reaching over to grab theirs, too.
Sean reached past her and smiled. “You got your charges?” he asked.
Molly nodded and patted the long pocket in her suit trousers. “Yep. All set.”
“Good,” he smiled.
The team got ready to take themselves down.
Brock walked in just as Emma clicked onto the local holopanel. “We’re on the final approach. Just a few more minutes, and we’ll be passing by the first drop point.”
Molly and Sean made eye contact. “That’ll be us,” she said, wondering whether she should let him know what was going on with her.
Joel was hanging onto the frame, which had already come down to help their descent.
“Look,” he said, addressing the drop team. “Don’t take any unnecessary risks down there. This is a simple in and out. If you can’t reach your target, we’ll have to do what we can with the nanodrones, and hope for the best. Your mantra for today is to make sure that you’re around to fight another day.”
He paused, looking at each of them in turn. “Understood?”
They each nodded.
“Okay, good. Molly, Sean, you’re up.”
On Board The Empress, Main cabin
Paige and Maya moved a few seats closer to where Pieter was working. Paige noticed he was hyper-focused as he worked to link into the base protocol.
Oz’s voice connected with the auditory system in the cabin. “Okay, they’re all clear of the ship. Time to deploy the worm.”
Pieter nodded. “Okay. Just one more minute, and we’ll be through their firewall.”
Paige and Maya watched intently as he worked. A moment later, Pieter’s expression changed, and his shoulders dropped a little. “Okay, we’re in. Oz, it’s all yours.”
“Thank you, Pieter” Oz replied. “Worm deploying.”
Maya turned to Paige. “Okay, so as soon as the broadcasts are released, they will start running on all the major civilian and military channels. Oz and Pieter are going to hack that separately, though.”
Paige frowned. “Why’s that?”
Maya lowered her voice so as not to distract Pieter and Oz from what they were doing. “Something about the secret bases using not only an isolated computer system, but also a different type of code. Hacking that isn’t the same as hacking the civilian network; but they seem sure that getting into the civilian network won’t be nearly as difficult.” She glanced back at Pieter, who was watching his screen intently.
“Everything okay, Pieter?” Paige asked, noticing that he was just watching the screen and not typing anything now.
Pieter nodded. “Yeah. It will be. It’s looking like this worm is going to take at least forty minutes to be fully deployed, though…”
Paige frowned. “Is that longer than you were hoping?” she asked.
Pieter looked over at them, his face gaunt and tired. “A little.” He turned his attention back to the screen. “It should be okay, though,” he added quietly.
Paige nodded. “And then you upload the campaign?”
Pieter kept his eyes on the holo this time. “Yeah. That’s the plan. All being well…”
He ran a hand over his face, barely peeling his eyes from his screen for a moment, and then returned to willing the worm to deploy faster.
Planet Kurilia, Northern Hemisphere drop
Molly and Sean peered out of the skylift doors at the clearing around the lift. Blasters at the ready, and eyes and ears on high alert for any signs of movement in the tree line, Sean swung out first. He swept his weapon back and forth, following his line of sight, making sure that they weren’t about to be ambushed.
Molly carefully ventured out after him; diligently, so as not to allow the blaster end of her weapon to cross his location.
Sean took a moment, and then relaxed a little while still keeping his senses trained in ops mode. “This is where you came down before? With Joel and Jack?” he asked.
Molly came up beside him, lowering her blaster a little. “Yes, that’s right. Feels a little like déjà vu, actually.”
Sean glanced down at her. “You sure you’re okay with all this?”
Molly frowned. “How do you mean?”
Sean looked back at the tree line, then down at his holo to check their location. “Well, you know – with all the realm stuff. I mean, are you sure you’re ready?”
Here we go… Molly thought.
She felt herself getting a little irritated, and tried not to show it. “Yes. I’m fine. I learned a lot with Arlene, and I have more control.” She glanced around getting her bearings. “First target is this way,” she indicated, spinning around and heading around the other side of the skylift.
Sean closed his holo, having checked and agreed with her conclusion. “Okay, lead the way,” he said. The tone of his voice seemed to suggest an undercurrent of ‘on your head be it,’ but Molly chose to ignore it.
How you feeling now?
Fine.
Fine?
Well, yeah. Sean… you know. But I’m doing okay. Feels lighter, now that it’s just Sean in my space.
Okay. That’s… something.
Oz paused a moment, but Molly could feel him humming in her head.
What is it?
Don’t you think you should have mentioned it to him? About how you’re feeling people in your space, and it’s taking you off your game?
What, and give him the satisfaction of being right?
Well, operationally, he should at least be aware. What if something happens?
Well, then, I’ll deal. I don’t want him thinking he needs to babysit me. We get enough of that from him anyway, just cuz we’re not super-enhanced starship frikkin’ troopers.
True. And yet…
Okay. Noted. I’ll see. If we are in and out as we planned, it won’t be an issue.
Oz was present and silent.
What? Molly pressed again.
Well, I’m starting to learn that no plan survives contact with the enemy.
Molly nodded. Oz was right. She should probably mention something to him. She sighed.
Okay. I’ll say something if it becomes relevant.
Sean had trudged on down a single tracked path in the lush undergrowth. Molly had to work to keep up with him; she found herself breathing a little heavier than she normally would.
Oz, have I just become unfit with all this sitting around and meditating?
Oz ran a calculation.
It seems your average weekly activity has declined by 51% since you started down that course.
Hmm. I’m sure Sean said that the nanocytes would mean I wouldn’t need to train as hard to be twice as fit…
Maybe he lied.
Molly chuckled out loud.
Sean turned his head to call back to her quietly. “Having fun back there?”
“A little.” Molly replied. “Though it wouldn’t kill you to slow down a bit!”
“HA! Struggling to keep up, eh? We’ll have to fix that, next training session. Come on, the sooner we get these charges set, the sooner we can get the hell out of here.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Molly replied, picking up her pace to catch up as they made their way through the undergrowth, carrying their not-so-light blasters in the temperate climate.
Planet Kurilia, Koin Star System, Zhyn Empire, Control Room of PrimeBase
“Sir, it looks like our security protocols have been compromised again. Something is happening to our systems; they’re not responding.”
Commander Thatle stepped over to view the details on the console.
“Can you lock it down?” he asked the console operator.
“Tech is working on it,” the lieutenant reported back, “but it looks like the mainframe has already been taken over. They have a few things they can try in order to isolate the intrusion, and we’re taking the backup servers offline now.”
Thatle contemplated the intel for a moment. “Fine,” he said finally. “Keep me posted. Let me know as soon as you hear anything else.”
“Yes, sir.”
The commander moved to another console, and addressed the lieutenant monitoring the cameras. “We’ve been breached again,” Thatle told him, his large presence behind the slightly built Zhyn unnerving the subordinate. “Probably the same intruder as last time,” he continued. “Tell me, have we got a visual on anyone coming onto the surface in the last six hours? Also do a search in the vicinity around each base, in case the perpetrators are the same one.”
The lieutenant stopped what he was doing to carry out the order immediately. “Facial rec engaging, sir,” he confirmed, keen to impress.
The commander stood patiently behind the lieutenant, watching the screen flick through the commands and combinations. He had considered that these humans might return, and had already planned out his strategy for dealing with them.
Thatle composed himself for a moment, looking off into the distance; his attention so focused in his mind’s eye, he barely saw the buzz of activity in his control room.
“Sir,” the lieutenant interrupted his thoughts. “We have visuals on four intruders. Two near here, and two on the other side of the planet at the Darfine Base.”
Thatle checked the output on the console, and confirmed the coordinates of the flagged location. “Very good, lieutenant,” he said when he was satisfied. “Thank you.”
The operator of the console shifted in his seat to try and look at his commander. “Your orders, sir?” he inquired.
The commander looked off across the control room, thinking. “Send in troops. Fast and agile. We want to capture them alive to find out what they’ve been doing to our systems. But if that’s not possible, our secondary intention is to neutralize the threat.”
“Aye, sir,” the lieutenant acknowledged.
The order was relayed to the communications officer on the next console, who then issued the order to the ground squadron.
The commander turned on his heels and headed straight to his office to make the call up the chain. He felt a bubble of tension rising in his chest; he was secretly anxious, but also proud that he was ready for this second attack. He would have this problem handled in no time.
As he strode through the consoles of the command center, the high-alert alarm sounded throughout, turning the room dark with red flashing lights. The sound penetrated every eardrum, disturbing normal concentration and instilling a sense of urgency. The commander retained an air of calm, as he stepped into his office and allowed the door to slide shut behind him. Immediately the noise was cut out, leaving an empty silence.
In the quiet, he gradually became aware of the sound of his own breathing, his own heart rate pulsing through his body, and the sound of his own footsteps on the floor as he walked over to his console to make the call.
He clicked on his communication device. “Vice High Marshall Davon,” he instructed the computer. The call connected.
“Sir, I have news of the intruders,” Thatle reported.
He paused while Davon spoke on the other end of the call.
“Yes, sir. They have touched down on foot in two points we’ve located so far. I have troops on their way to pick them up.”
He waited for the order from Davon, listening intently, hoping that his plan was going to meet with approval.
His shoulders dropped as he relaxed, hearing Davon’s words. He responded graciously. “Yes, sir. Understood. Extreme prejudice.”
There was another pause as he listened, and then, “Yes, of course. The tech team is working on it now. I’ll let you know as soon as we hear.”
The call ended, and the commander returned to the silence of his office to contemplate his next move in thwarting the attack.
Chapter 17
On Board The Empress, Main cabin
Oz’s voice reported through Pieter’s implant. “We have a problem.”
Pieter stopped what he was typing. “What kind of problem?” he asked.
“Both teams have been detected,” Oz told him. “The Zhyn command has issued an order to put troops at each location. I’m going to warn Molly and Joel.”
Pieter put both hands to his face and rubbed his forehead fast. “Shit,” he whispered in frustration. “What else can we do?”
Oz remained calm. “See if you can take out the communications so they can’t deploy their troops. Then see if there is some way to keep from tracking them. It looks like they used facial recognition and cameras to identify them; if any of those systems are offline, or unable to reference the database, then we might be able to buy them some time.”
Pieter’s fingers were back on his holo keyboard. “Okay. I’m on it,” he said, his skin turning a shade of deeper gray with stress.
Oz explained his next move through Pieter’s audio implant while he worked. “I’m going to try and guide Molly and Joel to steer clear, but if we take their systems offline, we’ll be blind, too - to their troops, and their location.”
Pieter paused his typing. “I’m not sure we have a choice,” he said, tilting his head back and thinking it through. “All of them have local maps, and know how to handle themselves. I think our best option is to take the cameras, and whatever else they’re using, offline to cripple the advance of the troops.”
“Agreed,” confirmed Oz. “I’ll let them know what’s happening.”
Oz disappeared from the audio connection, and Pieter got to his suddenly-urgent task.
Planet Kurilia, Northern Hemisphere
“Okay, that’s one down, one to go,” Sean announced as he placed the last charge on the external forcefield of their first target generator.
“Good job!” Molly called, turning to check their surroundings again. She had started to feel faint.
Sean noticed she was sweating and had gone a little pale. “You okay?” he asked.
Molly nodded. “Yeah, just a little – ”
Molly?
Yes?
We have an issue. They know you’re there; they have your locations.
Molly looked over at Sean, her eyes wide and creased at the edges with anxiety.
“We have company on the way,” she relayed to him.
Sean looked a little more alert. “How long, and what direction?”
Oz responded through both their audio implants. “They’re coming from The South Southwest direction. You’ve probably got five minutes before they reach your location.”
Sean looked confused. “How did they find us?”
As they started moving in the opposite direction, Oz’s voice informed them, “Facial recognition, from when Molly was down here before. Then they’re assuming the target you’re going after. I don’t think they have another way of tracking you.”
Molly nodded. “That means we can probably avoid them, if we take a different route to our next target; if we move unpredictably.”
Sean glanced over at her as they stomped quickly though the undergrowth. “That sounds like a plan, though it will mean more time here on the planet.”
“Sucks to be us,” agreed Molly.
Sean checked his holomap and looked back at the generator they were leaving behind.
“I guess,” added Molly, “if we go a couple of miles that way and then double back from the other angle, we’ll miss them, and still be able to hit the next target in the minimum time.”
“Agreed,” Sean grunted, closing the holomap.
Have you alerted Joel and Jack?
Yes, doing it now.
Okay, make sure they have a plan for extraction – no being heroes!
Yes, Joel is well aware of that. They’re still en route to their first target.
Okay. Keep me in the loop. Thanks, Oz.
Of course.
Planet Kurilia, Koin Star System, Zhyn Empire, Control Room of PrimeBase
The commander stood behind the lieutenant at the comms console.
“What do we know?” he asked.
The lieutenant didn’t take his eyes from the screen, but reported back swiftly. “We know they hacked into our communications systems and pulled off intel; presumably to know where our people were coming from, in order to aid their people on the ground.”
He paused, flicking a few switches on the holos in front of him. “We’ve since moved to quantum, so we’re untraceable until they get eyes on us.”
The commander nodded his head, listening carefully. “Anything else?”
“Yes,” the lieutenant continued, “our tactical department had a theory that they were going after the main three, and, tracking their movements thus far, that looks accurate. We deployed troops to intercept them at the targets; we’ll have them either neutralized or in our custody in a matter of minutes, sir.”
“Good,” Thatle replied gruffly. “Let me know as soon as that happens.”
“Yes, sir.”
Thatle stepped away from the communications station and headed back to the liaison for the technical department. He stood off to the side as the captain finished relaying current messages between the various teams working planet-wide to combat the intrusion.
Eventually, he had the captain’s full attention. “Any progress?” Thatle asked.
The captain tried to maintain an emotionless expression. “No, sir. The worm is advancing, and we’ve been unable to do anything other than take some of the servers off the grid.”
“How long is it going to take to restore control?”
The captain looked up at him. “Sir, I… our early reports are showing that as the worm works through the systems, it essentially eats up the structure. It may as well be formatting as it goes.”
Thatle frowned, sternly. “What does that mean?”
The captain cleared his throat before answering. “It means,” he said, his voice becoming unstable, “that if we’re correct, our early diagnosis is showing that there will be nothing to restore in any of the systems where the attackers have been.”
Thatle closed his eyes and paused before looking back at the captain. “Nothing?” he checked.
“Yes, sir. Nothing.” The captain flinched a little, knowing what so often happens to the messenger.
The commander looked confused, hardly able to believe his ears. He didn’t want to distract the captain from doing his job right now, but this required more problem-solving.
“Captain,” he instructed, ”can you assemble your best people for an investigative team, and send me the list in the next hour? Then bring in additional manpower to deal with the crisis. We’re going to have to have a meeting with those who understand the problem, in order to come up with a solution.”
The captain nodded, respectfully. “Yes, of course, sir. I’ll get straight on it.”
“Thank you, Captain,” Thatle said quietly, before turning on his heels and heading back to his office.
So much for being ready for the second attack, he thought to himself grimly.
On Board The Empress, Main cabin
“How are you getting on?” Oz asked Pieter through his implant.
Pieter flicked his wrist while he was typing, making sure his mic was open as he responded. “I’m trying to re-sequence the worm to take the comms out faster, but it’s still going to be another ten minutes. I can’t speed it up.”
Oz tapped into what Pieter was working on.
“Yes, I see,” he confirmed. “It was sequenced that way in the first place because it’s the fastest way to take control of everything, given how their systems are structured.”
Pieter stopped typing, and took a deep breath. “I’ve managed to speed up one loop by rearranging one of the small stacks of tasks; but, really, it’s not making much difference.”
He sighed in frustration. “Are the guys all right down there?”
“For the moment,” Oz confirmed, his voice a little flat, even for an AI. “They haven’t encountered any troops yet, but I think Molly can tell that they’re closing in.”
Pieter cocked his head and frowned. “What do you mean?” he asked.
“She’s able to feel people around her,” Oz explained. “Energetically.”
Pieter was still frowning, and looking off above his open holoscreen. “This is a realm thing?” he asked.
“Yes,” Oz confirmed. “Only thing is, it seems to weaken her the more people there are around, and the closer they get.”
Pieter took a moment to realize the implications of what Oz was telling him. “This means she’s going to have a problem when the troops catch up to them, then?” he asked.
Oz’s voice was even more serious. “This is my concern. We’ve also lost eyes on the troops, and their communications have gone quiet. Was that you?”
Pieter checked something on his screen. “No - not yet.”
“Okay,” Oz continued. “They’ve probably moved their tactical onto quantum communicators. Now there’s no way we can monitor them.”
Pieter covered his mouth as he thought it through. “What can we do?” he mumbled back to Oz.
“Right now, just keep that worm working,” Oz instructed. “I’m going to do a full frequency scan to see if I can pick up anything that might be useful. When that worm gets to the communications system, let me know, and we’ll release the nanodrones.”
“Okay,” Pieter agreed. “Just need another few minutes.”
Planet Kurilia, Southern Hemisphere
Joel checked his map once more. “I think if we just keep going straight, we’re going to hit it in another five minutes.”
Jack followed behind him. “Sounds about right; although, if their troops are closing in, we probably want to think about evasive maneuvers.”
Joel stopped and turned back to her. “You’re probably correct.” He glanced around trying to see what their options were, and being met with nothing but trees. “I’m thinking their nearest base to here is going to be off in that direction.”
Jack put her hand over her eyes to shield them from the sun that was breaking through the tree cover. “So, if the target is that way,” she said pointing in the direction they had been moving, “then they’re going to be heading straight to it, to intercept us there.”
She shook her head. “You know, it might just be worth heading straight there, in that case…”
Joel grimaced, “I think it’s risky, either way. The other option would be to approach it from the left of where we are now; but if they control the target by the time we get there, we’re done for, anyway.”
Jack started moving again. “Okay, as we were. Let’s keep going.”
Just then, there was a faint buzz in the distance. Jack stopped in her tracks. “Do you hear that?”
Joel listened, standing perfectly still. “Yeah, like a swarm or something.” He hit his holo. “Oz, have we got incoming?”
Oz responded through both their implants. “Yeah, but it’s friendly. The buzz is the nanodrones fixing to the other targets we need to take out.”
Joel sighed, and smiled at Jack as they started walking again. “Good to know.”
“Yes,” Oz replied. “But we’ve lost all trace of the troops. They’ve switched over to quantum, we think, and our worm has taken all of their other systems offline. You’re essentially flying blind now.”
Joel smiled grimly. “Well, this is what we thought might happen. Thanks for the heads-up, Oz.”
“Sure. I’ll keep you posted as things progress. Molly and Sean have reached their first target, and are doing a detour to get to their second.”
“Okay. Thanks, Oz. Joel Out.”
The pair of space marines kept moving at a brisk and quiet pace toward their target.
Planet Kurilia, Northern Hemisphere
Molly looked up, sensing movement in the sky above her. Sean glanced over at her. “What is it?” he asked.
“Something’s coming,” she told him.
Sean looked up too. “Nanobot phase has started. That’s a good sign, at least.”
Molly brought her attention back down to the ground as they walked. She stopped.
Sean stopped and looked back at her. “Are you…? What is it?” he asked.
She cocked her head, listening. “We may need to course-correct again. I think they’re closing in right ahead of us.”
Sean shook his head. “What makes you think that?”
Molly put her head down, and rested her hands on her knees, bending over. “I… I can feel them. As I’m getting closer to people, it’s zapping my energy. But I sense them, too.”
She tried to stand up straight, but toppled a little. Sean grabbed her. “Dammit, Molly. You shouldn’t have come. You’re not right.”
Molly didn’t have the energy to argue with him. Her skin had turned gray, and her lips matched. Sweat was dripping off her, even though the climate and activity didn’t warrant it.
“We need to go that way,” she told him, pointing off into the undergrowth, away from the track they’d been following.
Sean resigned himself to the change in direction. He sighed. “Okay. Come on, then,” he said, leading her. “Are you okay to walk?”
Molly nodded. “Yep, let’s just keep moving,” she said weakly.
Planet Kurilia, Southern Hemisphere
Oz’s voice connected through Joel’s and Jack’s implants. “Joel? Jack? I’ve just found something.”
They continued to trudge through the sandy undergrowth toward their target. Joel wiped at his forehead.
“What is it Oz?” he asked, checking that the quantum link on his wrist was active.
“I’ve managed to get an image off one of their official military satellites,” Oz told them. “It shows a section of the surface where you are.”
“And?” asked Joel.
Jack had moved on, seeing glimpses of the clearing and their target just up ahead. She reached into her pants pocket to find the first charge to set.
Oz continued explaining his findings. “It looks like the troops are already at your target. The last frame before the satellite moved into range was them surrounding the generator.”
Joel looked up at Jack disappearing ahead of him, towards the clearing. “Jack!” he called out to her, in a hushed, urgent whisper.
“It’s okay,” she called back quietly. “I’ve got this. I won’t be a second.”
Joel couldn’t believe her recklessness. “Jack. They know we’re here. They’ve got the place surrounded!” he hissed. “Oz, did she hear you?”
“I can’t tell,” Oz admitted.
Jack was ten paces ahead of Joel, and she didn’t acknowledge. He started jogging toward her.
“Jack! Abort!”
Jack stepped out into the clearing and headed straight up to the building that housed the generator. She could see the green glow of the forcefield protecting it. A moment later, she had jogged up to it, and was placing the first charge.
Joel stepped out into the clearing, his weapon switched on, deployed and ready to fire if anything moved.
“Jack”, he hissed again, scanning the tree line for any signs of Zhyn activity.
Jack disappeared around the other side to place the next charge.
“Damn it. Oz, she’s already placing the charges!” Joel relayed.
“That means you’re already at risk,” Oz advised. “Get out of there. Get back to the skylift as quickly as you can.”
Joel kept his eyes scanning all around him. All was quiet. He dug into his pocket, and moved the other way around the generator, preparing to set the other charges.
“Roger that, Oz,” he agreed dryly. “If you’ve got a plan B, we might need some extra help.”
Joel continued setting the charges around his side of the target.
Chapter 18
On Board The Empress, Main cabin
Pieter looked up from his holo screen, and across at Maya and Paige. “You guys ready?” he asked them.
Maya nodded. “Yep. Whenever you are,” she responded.
Paige started opening an array of holoscreens. Maya glanced over at her. “Let’s do this,” she grinned.
Paige nodded, anxious and excited.
Maya opened her screen, and started making the connections with the various broadcasting channels. “We’ve got all twenty-three of the major ones online.”
Pieter called over the aisle to her. “Okay, just check that you can broadcast on each of them first, before you push out the first message.”
Maya was quiet for a moment while she went through her checks. Paige finished what she was doing, and then looked over Maya’s shoulder, watching her check each channel in turn.
“Okay, we’re good,” confirmed Maya.
Pieter set another program going. “Okay, start broadcasting now, and then set them on loop. If you can, let it all download onto their servers while its playing – it will continue to play long after we’ve left orbit.”
Maya was working away, her tongue now sticking out from between her teeth on one side.
“K,” she responded almost absently.
A few minutes later, she seemed to become aware of herself, and put her tongue back in her mouth. “Okay, Paige. If you can set the loop on each one as we go, I’ll get them started?”
The cabin of the ship was quiet as the three of them worked away from their holoconnections to change the direction of the civilization on the planet beneath them.
Planet Kurilia, Downtown Tarvok
“Hey, Rook, turn the sound up a moment, would you?”
The bartender turned to face his customer, and reached over to the controls.
“Of course,” he smiled agreeably before turning back to the stack of glasses he was drying with a soft cloth.
The bar was quiet, it being the middle of a cycle, and apart from the couple sitting in a booth over on the far side, Rex was the only customer. He sat at the bar, his legs coiled around the stool he sat on, mostly keeping to himself and his beer.
“Ladies and Gentlefolk of Planet Kurilia,” the broadcast on the hologram said. “It is with deep regret that we must inform you of some clandestine activities that have been happening on your planet.”
“Hey, Rook, did you see this? Is this the news?” Rex called across again. His eyes betrayed his confusion at the strange broadcast.
Rook turned back and wandered over to where Rex was sitting and watching the holographic communication. “No. I’ve not. What channel is this?”
Rex shrugged. Rook picked up the controls and looked, flicking through the preview of three other channels. “It’s on every channel,” he concluded, looking back at the screen.
The broadcast continued, with no visual other than a simulated changing pattern with a voiceover.
“As you know, you have a proud militia; a militia that is set to protect the Zhyn Empire, and its people. However, there has been operating an interplanetary clandestine force that seeks to break all treaties with the Federation – particularly the Jah-Dune Accord, which limits the size of each members’ arms in the interest of peace.”
Rex glanced at Rook. “Well, I’ll be.”
* * *
Less than ten miles north, in the Empire’s government chambers, the same broadcast was heard by the Senate officials. An assistant got up from her desk and walked into her boss’s office.
“Sir, there’s something being broadcast that you ought to see.”
Senator Aok looked up from his work and nodded. His assistant walked over to the control panel and put the hologram on for him, then stayed and listened, mesmerized.
“This force has been found to be secretly operating from the resources of your planet, encouraged by factions within your own government. To this end, these bases are being shut down. If this weren’t done, then the planet would be at risk for violation of the Accord, essentially putting the citizens of the Empire at risk.”
Aok didn’t need to hear any more. “Get me a quantum link with the Lord High Marshall Shaa. This is going to cause a problem with the Federation.”
The broadcast continued in the background, as Aok’s office became a flurry of activity.
“These corrective measures have been taken, and this message is being communicated so that you are aware of what your government is doing – so that you can take a stand. If you take a stand, you will render these war-hungry factions null and void. If you allow them to move their operations into your civilian networks, though, you will face severe consequences; not just to your quality of life, but also to your planet’s safety. We hope you choose to remain free, and hold your government accountable. A concerned third party.”
The broadcast clicked off, and then restarted from the beginning of the message. “Ladies and Gentlefolk of Planet Kurilia. It is with deep regret that-”
By it’s third playing, Aok was on the line with the Lord High Marshall Shaa’s second in command, Davon.
“This clandestine operation is no longer so secretive,” Aok told Davon. “I fully expect that the Emperor will be in touch shortly. I’ll be issuing my full report to absolve myself from this debacle, though,” Aok concluded.
Before Davon could respond, Aok had closed the connection and turned back to his console to continue working on his statement to absolve himself from any responsibilities.
Planet Kurilia, Southern Hemisphere
Jack placed the last charge. “Okay,” she called to Joel, hearing footsteps shuffling in the undergrowth. She straightened up and headed around the last corner, expecting to see Joel placing the final charge.
Instead, she stepped around the corner and came face-to-face with an Estarian-looking Zhyn, who was a good three feet taller than her, with a weapon trained directly at her.
Instinctively, she backed away; her heart was in her mouth, but her training kicked in, despite the shock. Without looking around, she expanded her awareness to check where else a threat might be coming from. She tried to reach down to her holo to see if she could get in touch with Joel, but the Zhyn in front of her lunged forward and put the point of his blaster in front of her holo. He signaled for her to raise her hands in the air.
Jack complied, her mind racing and trying to figure out where Joel was, and if he’d been captured, too. Her eyes darted around, and she became aware of another two, three,six Zhyn emerging from the undergrowth and tree line. She backed up another couple of steps, and then felt another presence behind her. Spinning around, she came face-to-face with another Zhyn, who took the blaster off her shoulder – effectively leaving her defenseless.
“I’m here trying to save your people,” she tried to explain. The Zhyn made some strange sounds back at her. Language, dammit, she thought to herself.
“Your secret military bases are in contravention to the Accord your government signed. I’m not here to hurt anyone, just to disable - ”
The Zhyns continued talking and grunting between each other. The original creature began talking in her direction.
“I’m sorry. I don’t understand what you’re telling me…” she tried to explain, keeping her hands open and palms facing him, showing she wasn’t a threat.
Shit, she thought to herself. She was scared, but she didn’t get the sense that they were going to kill her right away.
If that was their intent, she’d be dead already.
Planet Kurilia, Northern Hemisphere
Molly stumbled and caught herself. She leaned her arm against the nearest tree, breathing hard.
Sean went on a few more paces before he realized she wasn’t following. He turned and started walking back, anxiety in his eyes. “What’s going on?” he asked her.
Molly tried to catch her breath, still looking gray and exhausted. “I think it’s the number of people who are getting close.”
Sean looked around, searching for some indication of how close the Zhyn really were. There was no sign of them yet… which meant they might have options. “We need to get back to the skylift,” he announced decisively. “There’s no way we can get to the second target, and then back – especially with you in this condition.”
Molly couldn’t argue. She leaned back against the tree and nodded.
Oz. We need a route out.
Working on something. Can you maintain your location?
How long for?
A minute or two?
Maybe. I can feel them closing in.
Can you tell which direction?
Yes, from behind us.
So, then, keep moving. I’ve got a lock on you. I’m working on getting help to you.
Molly was confused by his comment, but there wasn’t time to clarify. She looked at Sean. “You’re right. And I’m sorry. I agree, regarding the lifts; but the Zhyn are right behind us. We need to keep moving. Oz is working on getting some help to us.”
Sean didn’t look happy at all, but he nodded and grunted, and then helped Molly up off the tree. “Okay,” he agreed, “Let me help you move faster.”
He wrapped his arm under her arm and around her back, and helped her onward. Though it wasn’t comfortable, what with Sean being about twice her width and a good few feet taller than her, she was glad of the help. The two moved through the wooded area a little faster, blasters still at the ready in case they were found.
Planet Kurilia, Southern Hemisphere
Jack tried to steady her breathing and maintain her alertness, as the discussions in the strange language continued around her. She still had her arms in the air, and it looked like there were still more Zhyn around in the area – even as new ones arrived, and a few others moved off deliberately in another direction.
Just then, the chatter seemed to increase in urgency and tone. Jack couldn’t be sure, but there was a faint sound of a laser blast.
Then another.
She definitely heard that one.
There were sounds of return fire, the shrill ring of weapons she didn’t recognize. Her captors surrounded her, putting their backs to her, and turning to face the new threat.
The one in front of her went down.
Then, one to her side. Two others started moving forward, searching the area for where the blasts were coming from. In seconds, each of them went down, and all was quiet again.
Jack moved forward, cautiously looking around for both Zhyns, and whoever had taken them out. She noticed the guy who had taken her own blaster, and picked it up from under his lifeless body, wriggling to get it free from under his hefty weight.
Her breathing was shallow as she kept her eyes peeled for any signs of life… Then she heard something to her left, just around the next corner of the generator building.
She ventured toward it, cautiously, treading as softly as she possibly could. Two steps later, a figure emerged, catching her off-balance.
She jumped, her heart pounding, and her finger ready to hit the trigger as soon as she was able to aim. And then she stopped, her mouth half-open.
“And next time, you won’t run off on your own, yes?” Joel grinned back at her.
Jack exhaled sharply, trying to calm herself, not knowing whether she should laugh or cry.
“Son of a bitch!” she hissed at him, restraining herself from whacking him with the flat side of the blaster.
Joel hit the switch on his Zhyn-blaster, and it folded up into its more compact form. “That’s no way to address the teammate who just saved your ass, young lady.”
He kept walking, trying to get his bearings on their escape route.
Jack caught her breath and pulled up her holo.
“True. But you scared the living shit out of me. Hang on; I’m just contacting Oz, and then we need to get clear of this structure.”
Joel nodded. “Agreed. Let’s start moving this way. I’m willing to bet that when they don’t hear back from their friends, they’re going to send reinforcements along the same trail these guys came in on.”
Jack followed after him as the quantum call connected.
“Oz. We’ve set the charges, and our target is ready to detonate when you are. We’ll be clear in three minutes.”
“Good,” Oz replied through her implant. “Everything okay?”
“Yes, it is now. Joel ended up taking out a bunch of Zhyns, and we’re expecting more to come after us. We’re heading for the skylift now, but it will need to be an indirect route.”
“Acknowledged,” Oz confirmed. “I’m working on an extraction plan for you. Keep going. I have a location tracker on your quantum communicator so I know where you are, but we’re still blind as to where the Zhyn are. Be careful.”
“Understood, Jack whispered back. “Thanks, Oz.”
Joel glanced back as Jack jogged to catch him up. “Okay,” she said, “we need to move.”
The two jogged out at double-time, keeping their wits about them as they moved.
Chapter 19
Planet Kurilia, Capital Building of the Zhyn Empire
Justicar Beno’or bustled through the great halls of the Empire’s capital building. His robes billowed as they caught the air, making moving patterns of color in his wake. Heads turned as eyes caught the normally-subdued and dignified Justicar making his way to the Emperor’s chamber at the center of the complex of majestic halls and passageways.
Beno’or was undistracted by the attention. There was something far more important going on; a matter the Emperor needed to be informed about. And Beno’or needed to be the one to tell him – if another frame was introduced into the thinking, who knew what war they might find themselves inciting?
He panted, willing his out-of-shape legs to carry him faster.
Finally he approached the main doors. There were two guards in front of him. Normally, he would explain he had an appointment, but this time he couldn’t say that. His cause was far more urgent. He reached for the door handle himself, and a guard moved to stop him. Beno’or looked up at the Zhyn, laden in ceremonial armor. “I need to speak to him. The fate of the Empire rests on him knowing the information I have.”
The guard hesitated a moment, clearly understanding who the Justicar was. He glanced briefly at his comrade on the other side of the doorway, then back at the Justicar, before relenting, and opening the door.
The Justicar nodded in gratitude, mumbling something about honor and the Empire as he shuffled through the half-open door.
Once inside, he took a moment to acclimatize and look around. The red plush carpets acoustically dampened the room; it was immediately quieter than the grandiose hall just outside the door. The lofty ceilings here were ornately painted, and pointed to the grandeur of the Empire’s feelings about their Emperor.
Their ruler.
Their sole guardian and leader.
The Justicar bowed deeply, out of respect for the place and the status of the office, and then trod carefully. There was a corridor down to the right that ran alongside the main chamber; just up ahead was a door to the chamber where the Emperor received guests. Off to the left was a desk where the High Majesty’s assistant would organize who got to see him, and who had to wait outside.
There was no one there, though.
Beno’or stepped forward, carefully making his way just inside the door. He didn’t want to cause offense by barging inside, and yet, what he had to share was all too important to stand on ceremony.
He cleared his throat. “Forgive me,” he started. His voice echoed through the large, empty hall. The red carpeting behind him ended, leaving polished wooden flooring in front of him.
Nothing stirred.
Beno’or took a few more paces inside, searching the hall for any sign of the Emperor. “I’m sorry to intrude, Your Highness…”
Still no response.
He heard movement behind him, and spun round to see the assistant returning. He stepped back out to the red carpet area, and met with acute disapproval.
“Forgive the intrusion,” Beno’or started. “I have an urgent matter to discuss with His Highness. The Empire hangs in the balance.”
The assistant’s expression changed from one of scorn to one of anxiety, and a willingness to help. “Let me tell him you’re here,” she said quietly as she disappeared down the corridor along the side of the chamber.
Beno’or waited for what seemed an eternity; but in actuality, was probably only a few minutes, augmented by his anxiety.
The assistant came back, striding purposefully as she announced, “Please, His Highness will see you now.”
Beno’or entered the chamber again and made his way down to the front of the room to find the Emperor on his throne, on the elevated platform. There were the usual ceremonial tables in front of him, with chairs for the longer conferences.
“Your Highness,” Beno’or said, bowing to his Emperor. “I have news of utmost importance.”
The Emperor waved his hand. “Please, speak Beno’or. You have my attention.” The Emperor’s expression was one of concern.
Beno’or straightened up. “I’ll come straight to the point, Your Highness. It seems that our own military has been arming themselves with secret bases, and weapons beyond what we knew.”
The Emperor’s air of concern turned to one of horror, but he remained silent, wanting to hear more.
Beno’or continued. “It seems some other faction from outside the Zhyn Empire has come to know about this, and found it to be in breach of the Jah-Dune Accord. As such, less than an hour ago, our defenses were breached, and the clandestine bases are being systematically destroyed in both a nanobot and cyber attack.”
The Empereror looked about to speak, but Beno’or interrupted. “Forgive me, My Lord, but there is something else.” He paused, not quite knowing how to relay the next piece of news. “It seems they have revealed the existence of these bases to our public. They have been broadcasting a message on all channels, on a loop, for the last ten minutes.”
The Emperor closed his mouth, processing the information. He was silent for several moments before he spoke again. “Beno’or, tell me… As one of my most trusted advisors, did you know about the other bases?”
Beno’or answered immediately. “No, My Lord.” His eyes were as shocked and concerned as the Emperor’s.
“Then it seems,” the Emperor continued, “that we have a case of treason on our hands. Do we know who was in charge of this clandestine operation?”
Beno’or looked down at his hands, and wrung his fingers together. “I have only my suspicions, Your Highness. Without proof…” he didn’t finish his sentence.
The Emperor nodded sympathetically. “I understand. You’re an honorable man, Beno’or. But events have forced us to be less careful with our words. If you have suspicions, I implore you to tell me.”
Beno’or’s head was still lowered in shame and regret as he uttered the words he knew The Emperor already suspected.
“I believe it was the Lord High Marshall behind this, Your Majesty.”
Planet Kurilia, Southern Hemisphere
“Okay, Oz,” Joel said over the quantum link. “We’re approaching the skylift now. How’s Molly doing?” he asked.
Oz responded immediately. “Molly and Sean are on their way back to their skylift, too. They have Zhyns in pursuit.”
“Shit,” Joel cussed under his breath, still focused on moving as fast as he could. “Anything you can do to help them?”
“Yes,” Oz confirmed calmly. “I’m working on it.”
Joel glanced over at Jack as they jogged up to the lift. Jack hit the button, then doubled-over, catching her breath while they waited.
Joel put his free hand on his hip, the other holding his blaster. His eyes scanned the area, watching for any disturbance in the foliage.
Jack turned and looked at the lift panel again. She hit the button… again.
Joel smiled at her. “You know they’re programmed to take twice as long each time you hit them, right?”
Jack looked at him, shocked. “Really?” she asked.
Joel’s smile broadened. “No. I’m just messing with you.”
She chuckled, and smacked him playfully, almost recovering her breath.
“Oz,” Joel spoke again, hitting his quantum bead. “Anything you can do to speed up this skylift?” he asked.
Oz spoke into both their audio implants. “Hang on,” he replied.
The pair waited, recovering their breath and their wits, while scanning their surroundings.
Oz’s voice returned to the line. “Oh, heck. Problem.”
Jack saw Joel’s face drop. “What is it?” she asked, turning to check the panel for the lift. She looked, and then pressed at it again. “It’s dead,” she told Joel.
“Did you get that, Oz?” Joel checked.
“Yes. I just realized, too. They took them offline before we took control. We’re locked out.”
Joel shook his head, scrambling in his mind for other options, while watching for the slightest sign of trouble.
“Okay, Oz, we need a plan B, then.”
Oz paused, as if he was multitasking, before responding. “Okay, coming right up. In the meantime, be careful to avoid those Zhyns.”
Oz’s audio went dead.
Planet Kurilia, Capital Building of the Zhyn Empire
The Lord High Marshall Shaa was sitting at his console, wading through the reports he was receiving in response to the attack on his bases.
The message from the intruders played on a loop in the background as he tried to fathom who might have done this. The Federation was the obvious choice, and yet they claimed no responsibility. Heck, how were they even to know that he was arming up as he was? Their communications were encrypted, and in a new language that the Federation had no access to. He’d taken every precaution.
That left either a rogue faction within the Federation who had somehow managed to access their most classified material, or someone who had a vested interest in seeing them controlled by the Federation.
He wracked his brains trying to think.
It could be anyone… he sighed. Though the team who breached us was definitely human.
He flicked through to the next cyber report on his console. More bad news. He held his head in his hand as his eyes reluctantly scanned the intel. With each piece of news, his stomach sank a bit more; bringing him closer and closer to internal despair.
His console beeped, and a light flashed, indicating a call. He accepted the communication, and the hologram opened up in front of his desk. It was Davon.
“Your Highness,” Davon greeted him.
“Davon. You have news?” Shaa asked.
“Yes, Your Highness.” Davon’s voice was brighter than earlier that day. “Good news. We’re about to apprehend both sets of intruders – our troops are closing in on them. The lifts have been deactivated, and they have no means of escape.”
The Lord High Marshall relaxed back into his console chair. “Good,” he responded. “This is indeed good news.” He paused, contemplating the myriad of problems they still had yet to solve. “And what of the media channels? Can we shut those down?” he asked.
Davon nodded. “We’re working on it, Your Highness, but we’re encountering resistance at the broadcast stations.”
Shaa’s big brow creased across his forehead, making him look angrier than he actually was. “How so?” he pressed.
Davon glanced down at the floor before responding. “They’re suggesting that if there is any element of truth in these things, the people have the right to know.”
Shaa answered immediately. “Well, we have means of persuasion,” he stated flatly, somewhat confused as to why this wasn’t already in hand.
Davon nodded vigorously. “Yes, indeed, sir. And some have yielded already. It’s just a matter of time,” he said, before realizing his master needed more than that. “I’ll take care of it,” he added.
Shaa looked somewhat appeased. “Good. Thank you, Davon,” he said, reaching over to the console panel to end the call.
“There’s one more thing, Your Highness,” Davon added.
Shaa’s finger came back from the button, and he leaned back in his chair again.
Davon continued. “You should know,” he explained quickly, “Beno’or was seen going to meet with The Emperor.”
There was a long silence on the line.
Davon shifted awkwardly on the other end of the call, waiting for a reaction.
“Do we know anything else?” Shaa asked slowly, his face giving nothing away.
Davon was wringing his fingers again. “Not yet, my Lord.”
Shaa took a deep breath, before responding. “Okay, thank you Davon,” he said, and reached forward to end the call again.
The line disconnected, and Shaa sat back, turning his chair to look out of the large windows.
He could run.
He could always run.
But then he would be marked a criminal. He would be a terrorist rather than a hero.
No.
He needed to stay and make his case – whatever the implications of that were.
He stood up and straightened his uniform, then wandered over to his personal cabinet on the far side of the enormous room. He opened the door and pulled out a bottle with a green herby liquid in it. He found an antigrav tumbler, and poured himself a drink.
Then, taking both the bottle and the tumbler back to his console, he sat back down to await his destiny.
Planet Kurilia, Northern Hemisphere
“They’re catching up to us, Sean,” Molly panted. Sean kept trying to keep her moving, but she was struggling.
“I can feel them,” she insisted. “They’re practically on top of us.”
Sean looked around, trying to figure out another plan.
He helped Molly lean against another tree, and assisted her in opening up her blaster. “You good to point and shoot?” he asked her, his eyes revealing the emotional strain he was under.
She nodded, exhausted.
Sean gritted his teeth and picked up his own blaster, opening it into its ready position.
Molly held her blaster as best she could. “Are you set to stun or kill?” she asked.
Sean didn’t answer. Instead, he just scanned the woodland in front of them.
“The minute you see anything move, start shooting,” he told her.
Oz. If you have any words of advice, now would be the time.
I have a few, he responded. How about, ‘climb on board fast’?
Molly frowned, confused.
Just then, she saw a blue face appear in the foliage in front of them. She hesitated, and suddenly there were another two.
Sean opened fire, and both went down, lights and lasers flying from his weapon in fast succession.
Then there was movement above them.
Molly looked up to catch sight of a pod dropping down to the surface. She felt a flood of relief, and a pang of familiarity at the sight of the rescue vehicle.
Oz, you’re a fucking genius!
I know. Now get on board.
Molly glanced over to see Sean in full Rambo mode.
“Sean!” she called out. She pointed up at the pod, which quickly came to rest between them and their attackers. The pod door slid open, and Molly started moving toward it.
Sean kept laying down cover, allowing her the opportunity to climb in. As soon as she was aboard, he ran over to join her. With one last blast of his weapon, he jumped in after her, and hit the button for the door to close.
Okay, we’re in, Molly told Oz.
Emma’s voice came over the pod. “Oz is busy at the moment, so I thought I’d step in and help.”
Sean exhaled and laughed, tapping on the wall of the pod affectionately. “Nice to hear you, Emma. Thanks for the rescue.”
“Anytime, Sean Royale,” she replied. “I’d miss you if you weren’t around.”
Sean nodded.
Molly smirked, despite her condition. “Didn’t think you were the kind of guy to develop friendships,” she teased, quietly noticing how the guy could charm the pants of even an EI.
Sean pulled a face at her. “You’d be surprised, Molly Bates. Most people like me.”
Molly visibly rolled her eyes at him, and sat back in the seat. She slumped over to one side, allowing the pod wall to support her; her relief was written all over her face.
Sean wasn’t happy with her condition.
“Tell you what,” he said to her. “How about when we get you back to The Empress, you let Emma check you out in the med bay?”
Molly nodded sleepily, closing her eyes. “Sure. As long as I don’t have to walk anywhere,” she whispered, before drifting off.
Sean checked her pulse and made sure she was breathing okay, then let her relax.
Planet Kurilia, Southern Hemisphere
Joel and Jack stood poised, scanning the area for Zhyns, when Oz’s voice came over their implants.
“Emma says if you can maintain your location, she’ll have some help to you in less than ten seconds,” he told them.
Joel checked his holo link. “Any help would be greatly appreciated at this point, Oz.”
He searched the sky, or at least what they could see of it beyond the trees. Jack glanced over at him. “They’re sending pods?”
Joel nodded. “I think so.”
Jack shifted her blaster on her arm, trying to get more comfortable. She put her other hand on her hip, resting. All the time she kept scanning their surroundings, just in case.
Hardly five seconds later, a pod descended straight down to stop just above the ground in front of them. The door slid open, and Joel and Jack ran forward and clambered in.
The pod took off again, even before the door was fully closed.
“Wow, that was a close call,” Joel commented, looking out of the window and seeing the forest ahead of them teaming with Zhyns ready to take them down.
Jack glanced down briefly, then sat back, exhaling. “I’ll say. I’m ready for a vacation.”
Joel grinned. “Sounds like a plan. Where are you thinking? Somewhere with a beach?”
Jack smiled, collapsing her blaster down and pushing it under the seat. “I was thinking somewhere more rocky, with artificial gravity.”
Joel chuckled.
Emma piped in. “I know just the place for you!” she exclaimed brightly.
All three of them laughed as the pod whisked them away, out of the Kurilian atmosphere.
On Board The Empress, Main cabin
Emotions were running high in the cabin-cum-hacker-room.
Maya and Paige were celebrating as they watched the counters clock the number of times their broadcast had run on each channel. The algorithm that estimated how many millions of people had seen their broadcast also kept climbing; though its increase was slowing down now.
“That’s nearly 2.4 billion!” Paige exclaimed.
Maya grinned. “Yep. Not bad for one broadcast.”
Paige glanced over at her. “Have you ever had one of your broadcasts reach so many people before?”
Maya shook her head. “Nope, this is my first time in the billion range.” She shrugged casually, like it was nothing, but Paige could see she was quietly pleased at the reach of their work.
Their excitement was tempered only by the sheer concentration that Pieter was going through. The worm had hit a few sticking points, and he and Oz were doing everything they could to make sure they were able to do everything they still needed to.
“Just one more piece, and we’re through,” Pieter said to Oz.
Oz’s voice came through over the cabin audio. “Agreed. The nanobots are all in place, and all but one of the generator targets are ready to blow.”
Pieter frowned, distracted. He finished typing. “What did you say about all but one of the targets?”
Oz switched to Pieter’s implant to communicate. “Molly and Sean needed extracting before they were able to lay the charges,” he explained.
Pieter shook his head. “That sucks. We’ll have to just go without it, then.”
Oz agreed. “Yes. But in good news…” Pieter’s screens were a flurry of activity, even drawing Maya’s eye from across the aisle. She watched the screens pile up.
“What happened?” she asked.
Pieter sat back and grinned. “We’re through,” he told her. “The worm is all the way through every system, and is doing its thing as we speak.”
Paige clapped her hands. “Yay!”
She and Maya high-fived, and then Pieter put his hand across the aisle to high-five them, too.
“Good going!” Maya congratulated him, slapping his raised hand gently before leaning out of the way so he could reach Paige.
“Yeah, great teamwork,” he grinned. “And,” he peered over at her screens, “looks like your campaign is doing well, too.”
She nodded. “Yup. Just like magic,” she agreed.
“Okay, Oz,” Pieter confirmed, “as soon as the boss’s team gets back, I think you’re all set for the final phase.”
Oz spoke through the cabin audio again. “I do believe we are,” he agreed.
The tension had finally lifted from the cabin, and was replaced by an air of celebration.
Planet Kurilia, Leaving the Northern Hemisphere
Molly opened her eyes a little, and stretched out.
“You still with us?” Sean asked, glancing down at her as they rode in the pod up into the atmosphere.
“Yeah. I’m still here,” she told him as she sat up. “Actually, I’m feeling a bit better.” Her face seemed to be getting some life back into it.
Sean cleared his throat. “Look, er,” he hesitated a moment. “I’m sorry I came down so hard on you down there - about you not being fit for the mission.”
Molly shrugged, holding onto the handrail and leaning to look down at the planet they were leaving behind.
“It’s okay. You were right,” she admitted.
Sean tilted his head from side to side. “Yeah, but I was also a dick.”
Molly pushed her bottom lip out, in indifference. “I’m used to that bit,” she said, not able to stop her lips from breaking into a smile.
Sean grinned back at her. “Well, great. So I’m gonna assume that’s apology accepted, then.”
Molly continued to look out of the window in front of them. “Sure,” she said simply.
Sean knew what that meant, but he had no idea what else to do about it. Then something else occurred to him.
“Hey, Emma, what’s going to happen about our second target?”
Emma’s audio channel opened up again. “I believe that Oz intends to proceed as planned, just without that target being blown up.”
Molly frowned, calculating the effects that would have on their overall plan. She shook her head. “How about we go get our second target?” she proposed.
“That’s the best suggestion you’ve had all day,” he agreed, looking more lively.
Oz, we’re going to lay the charges for the second target. Wanna hold off blowing the fuck out of everything until then?
Sure, we’ve just got the worm complete, so we’re ready to blow the charges and the nanodrones as soon as you’re clear.
Okay, stand by. I’ll let you know when we’re out of the blast radius.
Sean reached into his pocket and pulled out three charges. “Emma?” he said.
Emma responded. “Yes, Sean?”
Sean started doing up his combat jacket again. “Be a love, and take us down to our second target?”
Emma’s voice lilted through the audio system, as if she too were keen to get back into the fight. “Of course,” she answered, “rerouting now.”
The pod veered off at an angle back down towards the surface, taking the pair to complete the mission they had originally set out to do.
Chapter 20
On Board The Empress, Main Cabin
Pieter scratched at his forehead. He was tired, but trying to understand the last piece of what they had already executed.
“So, even though the worm has destroyed all the firmware, you’re saying that it can still report back anything that they try to reactivate?”
Oz spoke over the cabin audio. “That’s exactly what I’m saying,” he confirmed. “Plus, with the communications broadcasts, I uploaded a patch onto their civilian systems that will enable us to keep an eye on things, too.”
Pieter smiled broadly. “Bloody hell, Oz. You’re a frikkin’ genius!”
Oz chuckled, his laughter filling the cabin. “Yeah. I think I get it from Molly.”
Paige and Maya heard the tail-end of the conversation, and started chuckling away.
“But,” Oz added, “I couldn’t have done it without you, Pieter.”
Pieter blushed a little. “Aww, Oz,” he said, carefully avoiding eye contact with the girls, “that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
Oz chuckled. “Well, don’t get all mushy on me, bro. I just appreciate you.”
Pieter leaned forward and hugged his holo.
Paige giggled. “Oz, he’s hugging his holo, in order to give you a hug.”
Oz’s voice sounded a little different. Even emotional.
“If I had a face, I’d be blushing,” he remarked.
There were chuckles and more banter between the team members.
“Hang on,” Oz said suddenly.
The laughter died down.
“Okay,” Oz reported. “Molly just said they’re clear. Let’s blow these nanobots and quantum charges, Pieter!”
“It would be an honor,” Pieter agreed, as he turned his attention back to his holo and hit a few keys.
He looked over at Paige and Maya. “You may be able to see some of the explosions on the surface from one of the windows,” he said, nodding over to the far side of the cabin. The two girls scrambled up and headed over to see. Pieter followed them, carefully closing up his holo as he moved.
“Wow,” Paige gasped as she reached the window. “It’s so pretty!”
Maya nodded silently.
The orange explosions could be seen from their altitude, and the faint ripple of the forcefield was a hint of green that quickly disappeared.
On Board The Empress, Downstairs hangar deck
Molly and Sean’s pod arrived back into the pod bay of The Empress, and the tailgate closed behind them. Joel and Jack had already returned, and were undoing their body armor and removing their holsters. They were exhausted, but somewhat pumped from their ordeal.
The incoming pod touched down, and the door slid open. “Thanks, Emma,” Sean said, as he stepped out. He turned around, and offered a hand to Molly.
Brock watched her actually take it.
“Girl, are you okay?” he asked, walking over to the pod to also help her out. “You’re pale as anything.” He glanced at Sean, and then at Sean’s hand, which Molly still held. Sean noticed, and looked at him as if to say, “whaaaa?”
Molly nodded. “I’ll be fine,” she said, smiling. Her hair was wet with sweat, and she could barely stand on her own.
Joel glanced at her, and then at the view outside of the closing tailgate.
“Check out your handy work down there. That’s the northern hemisphere targets,” he remarked.
Molly walked around to the other side of the pod to catch the last glimpse of the view before the doors closed.
“Ours,” she said, glancing at Sean. “All of our handy work,” she added, smiling at Jack and Joel, too.
Joel bobbed his head, fiddling with an arm guard he’d just removed. “Mission complete, then,” he announced.
“Right lady,” Sean said turning back to Molly, “You promised you’d let me take you to the med bay, to let Emma check you out.”
Molly nodded weakly. “Okay. Let’s go,” she agreed.
Joel frowned, concerned.
Sean picked her up, and started carrying her in his arms. “Heyyyyyyy!” she protested.
Joel and Jack started laughing. Brock stood watching, shaking his head.
“Alphas,” he muttered under his breath, raising his eyes to the ceiling.
Jack nudged his arm playfully and smiled. “Yeah,” she agreed.
“Emma,” Joel called so that she could hear him. “Wanna let Crash know we’re all back, and ready to leave?”
“Sure thing, Joel. Telling him now,” Emma confirmed.
Planet Kurilia, Capital Building of the Zhyn Empire
The Emperor of the Zhyn Empire stepped from his private chambers into the main hall. His closest advisors were assembled, along with the man he had previously regarded as the protector of the Empire: The Lord High Marshall Shaa.
Shaa was in full military dress, surrounded by six of the Emperor’s personal guard. Shaa wore a look of indignation; a hint of defiance quietly coloring the edges of his eyes.
The Emperor made his way to his throne, and nodded to his subjects. Those at the ceremonial desks took this as their cue to be seated, and pulled up their holographic devices from the consoles.
The Emperor began. “Lord High Marshall Shaa, you have been brought before me to answer on counts of treason. We know about your covert activities to over-arm our planet, and I would like to hear what you have to say for yourself.”
Shaa was silent for a moment, but the Emperor had the presence to hold the space for an answer.
Finally Shaa responded.
“You think that by getting rid of me you will get rid of the problem? You have no idea how many in your service agree with my actions. We want the Zhyn Empire to be great again, and that is a desire that runs through our blood. We are many, and we are proud. We will not kneel before the Federation. You mark my words, Your Highness; this is not over. The Zhyn Empire will rise again.”
The Emperor considered the position of the man before him. He held his gaze from his elevated position on his throne. The traitor’s eyes remained dark and hostile. He was angry that he was misunderstood, and incensed by the notion that he had to go out on his own to acquire the power he wanted.
The consorts shifted awkwardly in their seats, curious as to how the Emperor might respond to such insults.
The guards remained motionless and emotionless, holding their prisoner between them – regardless of his politics, or the fact that he used to be their commander’s commander, before he was escorted into this room.
The Emperor breathed deeply, and allowed the glare to be broken. He stood from his throne and walked forward on his platform, causing a stir amongst those who observed the interaction. “I will not risk the lives of the Empire for your political gain. You chose power over honor; you have disgraced your Empire and your position.”
Shaa protested, his voice rising. “What I do, I do for the Zhyn Empire! You, My Lord, are making the Empire weak. You’re making us into the Federation’s pet! But we are a proud people – we will not be tamed. We will not be controlled. We will not yield to weak leadership.”
Though Shaa’s outburst elevated the tone of the conversation, the Emperor remained calm and unflustered.
“You will leave the Zhyn Empire, and live out your days in exile.”
He returned to his throne and sat down. “So it is,” he decreed.
The guards changed their formation, taking hold of Shaa so there was no means of escape, and led him back out of the chamber backwards, so he could not turn his back on The Emperor.
There were whispers and titters from the advisors and the consorts who sat watching the proceedings as witnesses to the interaction and exile.
Once the guards and prisoner were gone, the tall doors at the end of the room were closed, leaving the remaining company to resolve the issues they now faced.
The Emperor called upon his Justicar.
“Beno’or,” he called.
Beno’or stood up from behind a console, and stepped out onto the main floor in front of the platform. He bowed.
“Yes, Your Highness?”
“Please set up a call with the Federation. This cannot go unanswered.”
Beno’or bowed again, and backed away from the main floor space before turning and leaving the chamber.
Once his face was turned, he allowed his anxiety to show. The call he was about to set up could mean anything.
Was the Emperor going to apologize? Or demand retribution? Was this going to be worse than what Shaa had planned?
His stomach turned as the doors closed behind him, and he stepped out on the red carpet.
Chapter 21
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Molly’s Quarters
“So what did Emma say?” Joel asked casually as he lounged across the bed.
Molly pulled her lips down, nonchalantly. “That there’s nothing wrong with me,” she said. “Physically.”
Joel shifted up onto one elbow to rest his head on his hand. “So what’s going on, then?”
Molly shook her head. “Seems I’m able to feel everything that’s going on with people, and it just gets to be too much.” She paused, and looked down. “I take it Sean told you what happened on the surface?”
Joel nodded grimly. “Yeah, he told me briefly; but he didn’t have an explanation.”
Molly sighed. “I don’t know if I have an explanation. All I know is that I become awash with knowing other people’s feelings when they get close, and that on the mission, with all those Zhyns after us, and us all amped up, it was just too much.”
Joel sat up and perched on the edge of the bed, his back to her. “What are you going to do?” he asked.
Molly shrugged. “Another Vision Quest, I guess. I mean, things have certainly moved on. I can control the realm-shifting now, so I don’t see any reason why I wouldn’t be able to control this.”
Joel turned to face her, pulling his leg up on the bed in front of him now. “That sounds… positive.”
Molly smiled. “Yeah. I think it is. I’m not as concerned about it as I was with the initial problems. There’s a way forward.”
She drifted off a little, and then brought herself back to the conversation.
“The thing that bothers me is having to feel all this shit, though. I… I don’t like it. Heck,” she smiled a little, “I don’t even like feeling my own feelings, let alone anyone else’s!”
Joel grinned. “Yeah, I can appreciate that,” he agreed, supportively. “But you know what I think?”
Molly shook her head, her brown hair bouncing around her face. “No… what?”
Joel looked seriously at her now. “I think it’s what you asked for, in some way.”
Molly frowned. “How d’you mean?”
Joel looked down at the blanket they were sitting on, and traced a pattern with his finger. “Well, your biggest struggle with leading this team is understanding things from their perspective. Being able to empathize and relate.”
“Yeeeeees?” Molly agreed slowly.
“Well,” Joel continued, “if you’ve suddenly got this ability to tune in and feel, or understand something, from someone else’s perspective – I’d say that’s a distinct advantage.”
Molly’s mouth dropped open as she froze, contemplating the sudden reframe.
“I… I suppose you’re right,” she said quietly after a few moments. “I mean, if I can control this so that I’m not overwhelmed by it all, then it could become a useful managerial tool.” Her voice had switched into her normal, task-orientated, utilitarian mode.
Joel chuckled to himself, closing his eyes and shaking his head gently.
“Whaaa?” Molly asked, suddenly aware that he was mocking her.
“Nothing.” he said. “This is a possibility for you to expand your understanding of people for yourself, and you immediately equate that to how you can use it to solve a specific work problem. It’s just…”
Molly cocked her head. “Sad?” she ventured.
“No,” Joel told her. “Adorkable.”
Molly smiled at his conflation of words to describe her. “Right. Thanks, Joel. Really… great…” she said, a hint of playful sarcasm hanging from her words.
There was a knock at the door.
“Come in!” called Joel.
Molly scowled at him. “Hey, it’s my room!” she told him. “Come in!” she called, copying his tone and intonation, a glint in her eye.
The door swooshed open to reveal Paige, standing with a parcel in her hands.
“Hope I’m not interrupting,” she said, raising her eyebrows up and down suggestively and regarding them both sitting on the bed.
Without waiting for an answer she strode in, her high heels heralding her arrival, and tossed the package casually across the room to land on the bed in front of Molly. “Shipment just came in from the Zon,” she told her.
Joel looked curious. “What is it?” he asked, then immediately wishing he hadn’t.
Paige winked. “Girly stuff,” she grinned.
Joel blushed as he shook his head, making himself promise he would never walk straight into such a potential landmine again.
“Right. Er. Sorry,” he said, standing up.
Molly watched, a small smile on her face, having no intention of alleviating Joel’s embarrassment.
Joel hitched his belt a little and scratched the back of his head. Then he turned, and smiled at Molly. “I’ll, er, see you in the kitchen in a bit, then…”
Molly frowned slightly.
Paige jumped in to remind her.
“Pizza! It’s our post-operation pizza celebration!” she declared. “You know… our tradition.”
“Ooohh,” Molly sighed, realizing what time of day it was, and then putting it all together with the mission they had just completed. She shook her head briefly, trying to ground herself back in the reality everyone else operated in.
“Sure,” she told Joel. “See you in there.”
Joel waved and left, the door swooshing shut behind him. Paige waited for a second to make sure he was out of earshot, and then grinned excitedly.
“Okay, are we going to do this, or what?”
Molly looked down at the self-dyeing chemical kit. “Yeah, I guess so. I mean, in the absence of a genetics lab, it’s our best option.”
Paige shrugged. “I think so. Unless you want to ask the General if you can perform your genetic experiments through one of his precious pod docs…?”
“Errr, no,” Molly said definitely. “High maintenance, dumbass chemicals it is,” she said as she scrambled off the bed and headed to the bathroom.
Paige skipped after her, a glint in her eyes. “It’s going to be fabulous!”
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Kitchen
An hour later, the team was starting to congregate in the kitchen. Joel, Sean, Jack, and Crash were already sitting around drinking beer. Pieter, Brock, and Maya had gone out to pick up pizza. Molly and Paige’s location was unknown.
Oz was hooked in over the intercom in the kitchen, explaining some of the finer points of the Many-Worlds Theory.
Joel scratched the top of his head with one hand, while placing his beer down with the other. “So what you’re saying is that Molly effectively tuned in to one of the likely possible futures, and that’s how she saw Crash on the floor before it happened?”
“Yes,” Oz agreed, “although, the exact timeline is a little hazy. I was deactivated, and although Emma has a time log for when Crash left the ship, Molly doesn’t have a running time code for the various events on her Vision Quest.”
Joel frowned. “What about her memory?”
“Well,” Oz considered his words carefully as he spoke, “she would have had to look at her holo; but then, you know what Molly is like with time.”
Sean and Joel looked at each other, and put on their best Molly-accents. “Irrelevant,” they said together, and then burst out laughing before clinking their beer bottles.
Jack sat upright, chuckling quietly at the boys, her chest bouncing up and down as she laughed. “You guys really pay a lot of attention to what Molly does, eh?” she observed before taking another swig of beer.
“No, no,” Joel protested. “It’s not that. It’s just that she does so many things that are so damn funny…”
“…it’s hard not to notice and remember them,” Sean finished his sentence. The two looked at each other again, laughing. Jack shook her head, and couldn’t help but join in.
She caught Crash’s eye, and, even though Crash normally remained pretty stoic, even he seemed to be chuckling quietly at the interaction. He pulled his lips down at the corners and nodded his head, agreeing with Joel and Sean.
“Anyway,” added Sean, “going back to this Many Worlds lark – I wonder: is there some way we can harness this foresight to keep us out of trouble?”
Oz was still connected through the audio. “It’s a good question. After all, you, Royale, need all the help you can get with that!”
Joel raised his bottle to Oz. “Nice one, Oz!”
The laughter spilled out into the foyer.
Oz stayed on-point, though. “I’ll think about the implications though, Sean. What it would probably require is for Molly to do a few experiments to see if she can actually see forward in the timeline – which would be an interesting study in itself. I’m sure it will force us to reexamine our assumptions about reality.”
“Well,” Sean added, scratching his chin then taking another drink of his beer, “I’d be interested to know anything you find out.”
At that moment, Pieter, Brock, and Maya walked into the kitchen with their atmosuits on, carrying stacks of pizza boxes and beer.
“Grub’s up!” announced Maya, and the warriors stood up and started making themselves busy, setting the table and arranging the pizza boxes as they were dumped onto the table.
Pieter disappeared again to get rid of his gear, and, after grabbing a beer each and cheersing each other, Maya and Brock did the same.
Jack sat back down once they had everything ready to eat. “Someone should let Paige and Molly know that - ”
Paige walked in.
“It’s okay. We’re here.” She was grinning widely from ear to ear. As soon as Molly followed her into the kitchen, it was clear why.
“Oh, my,” Jack exclaimed, her eyebrows raised taking in Molly’s look. “You changed your hair back! It looks great.”
Molly looked a little embarrassed. “Thank you,” she said before grabbing herself a beer from the fridge and handing it to Joel, who took the lid off for her.
Joel handed her beer back, topless. “So, that was the thing,” he commented, referring to the package that Paige had shown up with at Molly’s door.
Molly nodded, smiling. “Yeah, that was the thing.”
He frowned a little. “But this wasn’t another genetic experiment?”
Molly shook her head. “Nope. Not this time. This is boring old chemicals, which I’ll have to keep applying every few weeks as the hair grows… No genetics lab here to do the thing that made it blonde in the first place.”
Joel nodded. “I see. And you didn’t want to stay natural?”
Molly shook her head again, her newly-bleached hair falling in her eyes, still a little damp from the shower.
“No. I wanted to feel like my old self again,” she told him quietly.
Joel smiled, and then pointed his beer at her to chink. “Well, welcome back, Ms. Bates. Good to see you again.”
Molly grinned and chinked her bottleneck against his. “Why, thank you, Mr. Dunham. It’s good to be back.”
While they were talking, the rest of the team had organized themselves around the table and started dishing out pizza. Molly and Joel joined them, and the normal hush fell over the group.
Eventually, as the eating slowed and the laughing and talking increased again, Maya nudged Paige.
“Now is as good a time as any,” she told her, looking pointedly in Molly’s direction.
Molly caught on that they were about to include her in the conversation. Paige looked suddenly shy. Her chest flushed deep red.
Maya insisted, though. “Go on. Tell her.”
Paige swallowed, gathered her courage, and put the crust of her pizza down on her plate.
Molly kept chewing.
“Molly,” Paige said across the table. “Maya thinks I should run this by you. It’s about the nail varnish company.”
Molly took another bite of meat-free pizza, her attention turned to Paige.
“Uh huh,” she said through the cheese.
“Well,” Paige continued, “things are progressing. The articles we’ve been writing have been causing a stir, and it looks like Oz has found the best manufacturing plant for the operation. We’ve got a great deal, and all being well, it looks like if we were to manufacture this first shipment, it could probably all be sold through this first Newstainment offer we’re going to run.”
Molly kept chewing, suspecting what was coming next.
Paige paused to draw breath, and then took a quick swig of her beer.
Maya was watching Molly intently, ready to gauge her reaction.
Paige spoke up again. “So if it all goes okay, we’re looking at a 20% ROI for any investor that puts some money down for us to get the first shipment manufactured.”
Molly smiled at her, knowing what Maya was up to and answered quickly. “Of course, Paige. I’d love to.”
Paige grinned, relieved.
Maya was smiling too, but pretending to be offended at how easy Molly made it for Paige. “Hey!” she exclaimed. “You didn’t even make her make you an offer. She didn’t even have to ask for the business!”
Molly chuckled. “I know. I just didn’t want her to have to suffer any more than you were already making her.”
Maya smiled and pretended to huff.
“Well…” she said. “You try and help a girl out, and then everyone makes out like you’re the bad one.”
Paige put her beer down on the table, and turned and hugged Maya. “Thank you for helping me,” she said.
The rest of the table had stopped and was watching what was playing out.
Maya patted Paige on the back as she hugged her back. “You’re welcome. Just make sure you go and make a shit ton of money,” she told her.
Paige nodded, and then got up. She walked around the table, fully aware that all eyes were now on her, but not caring. She shuffled around to where Molly was sitting and bent down and hugged her, too. “Thank you for believing in me,” she told her, her eyes welling with tears.
When Paige released Molly and stepped back, she saw that Molly had tears in her eyes, too. “You’re very welcome, Paige,” Molly told her.
Paige shifted her feet awkwardly, unexpectedly self-conscious. She headed back around the table to sit down, and Molly searched for something to dry her eyes with.
Almost as if he were mind-reading, Joel produced a clean napkin from the pile in the center of the table, and handed it to her. She took it, smiling, the emotion welling up in her chest amplified by her newfound emotional awareness.
Joel put his hand on her back to comfort her, and Molly felt something she hadn’t really been able to experience before. Something that surprised her.
She stopped crying, and tried to process it.
It was a feeling of real, genuine love and caring.
It threw her for a second, but when Joel removed his hand, it diminished but didn’t go away. Everyone went back to their beer, pizzas, and conversations, and Joel was oblivious.
But Molly logged the new sets of data points to consider later.
Later, when she was less overwhelmed.
Epilogue
ArchAngel
Giles bustled to leave the communications suite, pulling his tweed jacket on as he walked, and trying to connect a call.
He strode purposefully through the corridors of the ArchAngel, flustered, anxious, and excited, all at the same time.
The call went to messages.
“Hello, General,” he started, managing to get one arm into the sleeve of his jacket. “I’ve, er, been talking with Arlene. We’ve put some pieces together; I really think we need to talk. Your concerns… You were right. Could you contact me at your earliest convenience, perhaps?”
He disconnected the call, and swung his arm into the other sleeve of his jacket, straightening it. Glancing down at his holo, he realized it was the middle of the night. But this couldn’t wait.
He slowed, wondering what his next course of action should be. Having a new thought, he turned back the way he had come, and pulled up directions to the archive lab.
There was something critical he ought to check out before making any recommendations.
Retribution
The Ascension Myth Book 6
Chapter 1
Aboard ArchAngel, Reynolds’ Office
The General was tired from being woken up in the middle of the night and looked bleary eyed over at Giles. “So, tell me again why you haven’t got the talisman?”
Giles scratched the back of his head, his tweed jacket opening up in a strange shape on one side, exposing his vintage-style shirt. His expression was one of sheepishness. “Er. Would you believe me if I said it involved a girl?”
Lance had wandered over to the drinks tray in his office and poured himself one. He ambled back to the sofa and sat down, his legs spread apart, resting his arms on his legs while studying the contents of his glass. “Yeah,” he sighed. “I would.”
Giles shifted awkwardly where he stood before deciding to join him on the adjacent sofa. “It’s okay, Uncle Lance. I know roughly where to find it again. It’s just going to take me some time to go get it.”
Lance looked up at him from beneath a somewhat furrowed brow. “How long?” he asked. He dropped his eyes back to the liquor, bracing himself for a ridiculous response.
Giles shrugged, and breathed deeper. “I dunno. It depends. I need to find the guy who hid it for me first…”
His voice trailed off as he realized how, to a practical man like Lance, this wasn’t a well (enough) defined parameter.
Lance didn’t react.
Instead, he just took a swig of the whiskey, draining the glass in one go. “Okay. Well, whatever it takes. I don’t like the idea of there being things out there that we don’t understand. Things that can potentially be used against us.”
He stood up and returned the glass to the tray on the other side of the room, and then turned back to Giles. “That said,” he continued, “I don’t believe there is anyone more capable of solving this puzzle than you. Let’s talk some more in the morning, but suffice to say, it looks like you have your next assignment.”
Giles stood up. “Understood, General,” he replied.
Lance nodded affably. “Go get some rest, dear boy. We’ll continue this at a decent hour.”
Giles bobbed his head and turned to leave.
“Ah, just one more thing,” Lance called after him.
Giles turned back.
“The woman, the one that was the cause of us not having this vital piece of intel…” Lance watched Giles’s reaction carefully as he spoke.
“Yeah?” Giles asked.
“Anyone I know?” The General asked.
Giles’s lips curled in a half smile, with a hint of admiration for the woman, and a touch of contempt for a certain thought about her that came to mind. “Some things are best left in the past Uncle,” he replied.
He turned again to leave, heading out of the door.
The General watched him go, shaking his head quietly to himself. “ADAM,” he called hitting his holo button. “Have my morning meetings postponed for a few hours. I’m going to sleep in to recover from this emergency meeting.”
ADAM’s voice came over the intercom. “Of course, sir. Did you not deem the conversation urgent and important?”
Lance nodded to himself. “No no, it was both urgent and important. I’m glad you woke me. And we’ll discuss our next moves in the morning when I’ve had time to process. And sleep.”
“Yes, sir. Sleep tight,” ADAM responded over the intercom.
The General wiped his tired face as he wandered across his office reception area. “You too, ADAM,” he responded.
Lance headed out of the office door, and padded down the corridor in his blue and white striped pajamas, covered over with his dark red bathrobe. He knew to his crew, he would look like a crazy man wandering around in his nightclothes, but most of them knew him. They knew that he was far from crazy. And that he didn’t care what they thought.
Just then, an ensign rounded the corner. “Good night, sir,” he chirped amicably, only just refraining from a salute — on account of the General not being in uniform.
“Good night, Thom,” the General muttered as he continued down the corridor, back to his quarters where he had left Patricia sleeping.
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Molly’s conference room
Paige gazed idly into thin air as she mused about the future. “I dunno,” she said wistfully. “When we have enough sales, I think we could have a few employees, maybe based on Ogg, who might want to take over the marketing.”
Maya grinned. “Bored with the marketing already?”
Paige shook her head, quickly returning to the conversation. “No. Not at all. I just want to make sure that I’m focused on my job, as well. I don’t want to leave the adventures we have here. Not for fame or fortune.”
Maya grinned. “Well, it’s good that the kinds of things you need in the business are things that you don’t need to do yourself.”
Paige grinned. “Yeah, especially now we have the perfect formula nailed - pun intended,” she said chuckling. “Molly’s done all the hard work,” she added glancing over at Molly, who was immersed in her holo.
Paige and Maya had stopped talking and were looking at her. Molly became aware of the change in the room, and looked up at them. “Sorry… did you…?”
Her eyes were on them, but she was still absent.
Paige laughed. “It’s okay. We were only mentioning the work you did for the nail formula.”
“Oh, right…” she acknowledged. Seeming to get another thought, she turned to Maya. “Anything useful on those Chaakwa files, then?” she asked.
The girls had been holed up in Molly’s favorite conference room all morning, working through their various things, and catching up with the routine since their mission defeating the Zhyn.
Most of the crew was pretty tired. It had been exciting, but also intense for all involved. Even two days later, Molly was happy to take it easy and just catch up on rest. Joel would have them running circuits and sparring the crap out of each other soon enough.
Maya closed her holo to give Molly her full attention. “Yeah. She has a bunch of leads that we can run down.”
Molly frowned a little. “Leads that she couldn’t pursue herself?”
Maya bobbed her head from side to side. “I’m not sure. Some. I don’t think she had the access she needed. Not the kind that Oz and Pieter can secure for us…”
“And?” Molly pressed, sensing some hesitation in Maya’s voice.
Maya narrowed her eyes, thinking. “Well, I have a funny feeling that she was holding back. Almost like she didn’t want people to know she was still looking into it.”
Molly stared off into empty space for a moment, before scratching the side of her face and scrunching up her nose. “Well, I guess I can understand that. I mean, if The Syndicate were anything to go by, who knows what lengths these particular goons were going to in order to keep themselves protected? It wouldn’t surprise me if they were tapping her holos, and… worse.” Molly’s voice drifted off again, before she gave a small shudder at the thought.
“Anyway, keep at it,” she instructed a little more brightly. “I’d like us to get these fuckheads dealt with so that Chaakwa can get on with her life in peace.”
Maya nodded. “Sure. On it, boss,” she affirmed looking back down at her holo.
Isn’t it time you started moving?
What for?
Your meeting with the General.
Oh, shit. Fuck.
Molly closed her holoscreens hurriedly. “Shit, I’d forgotten I have a debriefing with the General. I’ve got to go…” she explained quickly to the girls.
Paige and Maya looked up, semi-stunned by the flurry of activity from Molly’s direction. In a matter of seconds, she was packed up and out of the door. “I’ll catch you later,” she called back to them.
The door bounced closed behind her, and didn’t quite catch— opening slowly, and then settling ajar. Paige and Maya looked at each other.
“See what I mean?” Maya urged.
Paige shook her head. “Nooo…” she said slowly. “It’s just the same old Molly. Living in her head.”
Maya shook her head. “No,” she insisted. “Didn’t you see how she shuddered when she was thinking of what Chaakwa might be going through?”
Paige frowned. “So?”
“So,” pressed Maya, “I think she’s empathizing. You know, putting herself in other peoples’ shoes. At least, in terms of her imagination.”
Paige looked at Maya suspiciously. “That’s not what you’re getting at though, is it?”
Maya smiled gently. “Okay, you got me. No, honestly, if it were just that, it would be a feat of a personality shift, no doubt… I think it’s something more.”
Paige’s eyes lit up as she started to understand. “You mean like they were saying about her being able to tune in to other peoples’ energies.”
Maya pursed her lips together and nodded. “I think so.” She kept nodding. “I think she’s feeling how people feel, and then having her own reaction to it; like a…”
Paige smirked. “A human being?”
Maya grinned. “Exactly!”
Paige clapped her hands together in childish excitement, and her motions dissipated the holographic screens that had been arranged in front of her. “So, you think that she and Joel will finally get together, then?”
Maya grinned, and started back in on her work. “Let’s not get too carried away. I mean, it is still Molly in there, after all.”
Paige took the hint that the conversation was over, and set about retrieving her closed screens, still smiling excitedly to herself.
Chom-X9, Secret Base
The thin atmosphere on Chom-X9 was still. It had been several days since the electrical storm, and the scent of ozone remained in the air, in patches.
Shaa hurried back inside, bringing a little whirlpool of dust with him into the airlock. It was safe to be outside for a short time. Time enough to experience the vastness of space, and marvel at how far he had come. But to stay too long meant to suffer the effects of the low pressure and the lack of oxygen. Of course, being Zhyn, he was a little more robust than other species might be. But still. It wasn’t something he wanted to push.
The second door of the airlock opened and he stepped through, stamping the sand and dirt from his boots.
“Sir,” one of his subordinates acknowledged him.
Shaa nodded to him, and then made his way through the utilitarian corridors to the meeting room. He pressed the keypad and strode in.
The four engineers sitting around the conference room table stood as soon as they saw him.
“At ease, gentlemen,” he told them, his attention on other things. He wandered over to the window, looking out over the wilderness he’d just come from, as they reclaimed their seats.
“Sir, we have an update on the-” one of them began.
Shaa turned, waving his hand to silence him. “In a moment. First,” he commanded in his domineering tone, “tell me about the other entry points to the base. How secure are we, structurally, without those secondary doors having an airlock?”
A couple of the engineers looked at each other, trying to decide what to answer. They seemed to agree on who was going to answer, and the older looking one spoke up. “Sir, it is safe for now; but over time, the pressure differential, and, of course, the use of the other doors, will put the surrounding structure under stress. We should look at putting in airlocks as soon as possible.”
Shaa grunted. “Sooner than the automatic targeting defense systems for the building?”
The engineers all nodded emphatically, as if he had asked them if Zhyn needed oxygen to survive.
Shaa sighed. “Very well. Have work started on them immediately. Do one at a time, though.”
The engineer on the far right took a note to make it happen.
Shaa seemed ready to get down to business. He turned his attention to the four of them, and sat down at the table. “So, what of the anti space missiles?” he asked. “Did the storm take any of them out?”
The engineers proceeded with their update, and Shaa took a deep breath, fighting to maintain his patience in dealing with the minutia of setting up yet another base from scratch.
Gaitune-67, Base conference room
Molly breezed into the conference room, her mind still immersed in the numerous projects she had been running. Plunking her anti grav mug of hot water on the table, she closed her eyes for a second, trying to call up the relevant file for the conversation she was about to have.
Why are we here, Oz?
Zhyn mission debrief.
Right. Thank you.
…
I’m going to ask him about that damn letter, too.
You go for it, Tiger.
‘Tiger’. Ha! I’m LOL’ing in my head at you, Oz.
I’m glad I can provide some amusement.
Molly sat down, opened her holo, and hit ‘Call Connect,’ ready for when the General came on.
She sipped on her hot water trying to remember the high she would feel when she would sip on hot mocha. Alas, since her body seemed to have taken to rejecting it, it had been a while since she had truly enjoyed the stuff. It was as though the nanocytes just didn’t want her consuming mocha - and so, under Arlene’s suggestion, she had given it up.
Life has a way of taking away the things I love the most, she mused flatly as she waited in the empty conference room.
The holo cube in the center of the table appeared and unfolded, creating a screen that opened out against the wall on the other side of the conference table.
Lance Reynolds appeared before her in his usual military attire, with a half-chewed cigar in his mouth.
“Bates!” he exclaimed. “Good to see you alive and well.”
“You too, sir,” she agreed, quickly getting to her feet and saluting.
The General returned the salute, and nodded for her to sit back down. “I hear the mission was a success?” he prompted.
“Yes, sir. We took out all targets and escaped without casualties,” Molly confirmed.
The General looked pleased. “Very good,” he gruffed. “You did a good job.”
Reynolds flicked through a holoscreen that cast a haze between him and the projection that appeared on Molly’s side of the holo feed. “Yeeees,” he said admiringly now, “looks like you did very well, according to Oz’s report.”
Molly sat motionless in her seat, watching him review the report.
Eventually he sat back in his console chair, and scratched the side of his head, and then his nose. “You won’t have heard yet, but we just got word that the responsible parties were dealt with. The Justicar called me this morning, and explained the situation. It seems their armed forces commander was going off-book without the Emperor’s knowledge or consent.”
Molly’s eye twitched a little. As the General paused to take a breath, she jumped in. “Sir, I understand this question may be beyond my remit, but… do we believe that?
The General started, and removed the cigar from his mouth.
Molly continued with her concern. “I mean, are we to believe that story, or do we have reason to be suspicious? They have a lot to gain by using this commander as a scapegoat, and then just rebuilding, unsupervised.”
Reynolds took a breath and placed the tobacco stick down on the console in front of him.
“Hmmm…” he said thoughtfully. “I took him at his word. He’s always proven to be an honorable man in all my dealings with him in the Federation.”
He paused, thinking for a moment. “But it’s a fair question. Tell you what, Bates,” he said, leaning forward again and poking at his screen. “How about I send my reports for you and your team to look over? Then you can share your thoughts with me, and include your… intuition.”
Molly’s gut tightened. She had the strange sense that she was being tested. “Of course, sir.” She hesitated, not quite knowing how to ask her follow-up question.
The General recognized her facial cues of concern, and paused, giving her space to speak.
Molly took a second and then frowned. “Am I to assume that you’re wanting something more than just a standard tactical analysis?”
The General’s face broke into a bemused smile. “Why, yes, Molly. I’m asking for your personal opinion… Based on data, but, also, I must admit, including any hunches and feelings you might get.”
He paused, considering what to tell her. “Arlene has informed me of your progress. It seems that even though your Vision Quest was cut short, you still proved to be quite the student.”
Molly felt her cheeks flushing and hoped the General didn’t notice. She couldn’t tell if she was feeling put on the spot to perform, or whether she felt proud of her new abilities. It was all just a little overwhelming. “Erm. Thank you, sir,” she said tentatively.
“I think,” she added quietly.
Lance chuckled and picked up his cigar, before poking the screen again. “Okay, those files should be with you now,” he told her. “I’d also like you to continue working with Arlene for the foreseeable future. She assures me you have talent, and that her methods are helping…” He flicked at his screen, “And that you’re still having some difficulties.”
His eyes scanned from side to side, reading other pieces of Oz’s report. “Looks like you got yourself into a hairy situation on the surface.” His forehead broke into a slight frown. “Good thing Royale was there with you.”
Molly felt instantly embarrassed. She lowered her head. “Yes, sir. I got lucky. It won’t happen again.”
Lance was looking at her again. “Yes, hence my request for you to keep on with Arlene. I’ve known the woman for years. She is the best at this realm stuff…” His voice trailed off as he contemplated the direction of the meeting.
He seemed to get another thought, and so did Molly. They both started to speak at the same time, and then stopped.
“Sorry, sir. Please…” Molly gestured with her hand, allowing him to speak first. She placed her hand back in her lap, hiding it under the table, as she also tried to hide the storm of emotions that she’d been awash with since the meeting started.
The General sat forward. “I was just going to suggest that it might be worth you and your team coming over to the ArchAngel for a visit—given that you’re now part of the larger team.”
Molly’s face lit up. “Seriously?”
Lance was smiling the grin of a twenty-something who had just scored a hat trick. “Yes, of course. Besides,” he told her, “there is still much you need to learn to be effective out in the field. Plus, I have some people I want you to meet.”
Molly nodded enthusiastically. “I think we’d enjoy that. Very much.”
“Good,” the General said firmly. “I’ll have ADAM set up the details, but let’s make it sooner rather than later. I have one particular team member who doesn’t tend to stay put for long periods of time. I’d hate for you to miss him.”
“Of course, sir,” Molly replied. “We’ll make it happen.”
There was a slight pause in the conversation.
The General tilted his head. “So, what were you going to say?”
Molly remembered her trail of thought. “Ah. Yes. I was… er… I was going to ask about the letter. From Bethany Anne.”
Lance grinned a Cheshire cat grin again, clearly enjoying the situation. “Right. Yes. You’ve completed the mission. How about you have a look at it when you get here? Then you’ve got something to look forward to.”
Son of a bi-
That’s your commanding officer!
Bite me, Oz. Besides, when did you go all company-boy on me?
Oz’s chuckles reverberated in the lower edge of her skull.
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at Oz, not wanting the General to misinterpret the move and think she was reacting to him.
“Very good, sir,” she conceded politely. “As you wish.”
The General placed his arms on the console, looking satisfied. “Good. Right, I’ll see you soon then, Bates. And see if you can’t persuade Arlene to take the trip with you. I’m sure there are folks here that she’d like the opportunity to catch up with.”
He nodded his goodbye, and then clicked off the call.
Molly could have sworn he had a twinkle in his eye when he made the suggestion about Arlene. In fact, she could almost feel his amusement, despite the vast space between them. Molly filed it away for later.
Extraneous data points. This was just one more layer to manage since she had started experiencing other peoples’ worlds.
She hit the button to close the holos, and watched the conference room holo pretend to fold itself neatly away in the center of the table, as if it wasn’t just made up of light projections.
Then she got up and headed up to the safe house to rejoin the team.
Chapter 2
Gaitune-67, Hangar deck
Less than twenty four hours later, the team was loaded up and ready to depart from Gaitune-67. Arlene had even been persuaded to come along — despite initially resisting, saying she had things to attend to on the sparsely populated lump of asteroid that had been her home for the last several decades.
Now, with final checks completed, Brock and Crash flicked various switches, powering up The Empress.
Crash gave the order in his usual unemotional tone. “Okay, Emma, I think we’re ready to rock.”
Emma’s voice came over the intercom, filling the cockpit with her dulcet tones. “I believe we are. And congratulations on attempting this without Sean.”
Brock immediately reacted, and looked intently in Crash’s direction, his mouth open and smiling. “Buurn!” He exclaimed. Laughing, he continued, “She did not just — ”
Crash’s lips twitched into a smile. “She did,” he confirmed, rolling his head against his headrest to glance at his friend. “But Emma and I have an understanding,” he explained.
Brock dropped one shoulder and waved his hand around, signaling at her video image. “And what might that be?” he asked, playing the role of the ally in support of his friend.
Crash was still smiling, but Emma responded. “I get to pull his leg on the condition that I rescue his rookie ass every time he steps wrong.”
Brock looked confused. “Dude, why would you agree to this shit?”
Crash’s smile had disappeared. “Keeps Royale off my ass,” he said simply.
Brock chuckled quietly. “Ohhhhh. Now I get it. And that’s why he’s out there, and we have the cockpit to ourselves without him breathing down our necks!” He put his fist out for Crash to bump, who returned the gesture before flipping one more switch to ignite the final engines for takeoff.
“Time to let them know,” Crash called across to Brock.
Brock frowned. “What, me?” he asked.
Crash nodded.
Brock sat back in his console chair. “Oh, no,” he said, shaking his head definitively. “This is your rodeo, cowboy. You make the announcement.”
Crash shrugged without attachment. “Okay. But you know they won’t get a serious safety briefing out of me. Ever.”
Brock nodded. “Uh huh. I think they appreciate that.” He smiled, rocking back and forth in his chair, as Crash connected with the ship-wide intercom.
“Ladies and Gentlefolk,” he started. “We will now demonstrate the safety features on this spacecraft, and your attention is essential – as these may differ from any other spacecraft you have flown in before.”
Brock waited, watching out the front window while listening intently, holding his breath for what was to come.
Crash continued with the announcement. “Take care that your baggage does not block the aisles or exit. It must be put under the seat in front of you or in an overhead locker. Place items in the locker carefully, as they may fall out and injure someone. And we don’t recommend the use of pod docs at any point, due to them turning you into a realm-jumping mess if you have just the wrong type of neurons.”
Crash paused, allowing Brock to hear the titters coming from the cabin.
“In the event of an emergency evacuation, please move quickly to the closest available exit; remember not to hold your breath when you’re exposed to space, as – without a pressurized suit – your lungs will explode within ten seconds. Unless you’re insured with Azsurtec, in which case you get ten and a half.”
Brock chortled to himself, clamping his hands over his mouth so as not to distract Crash.
“Bathrooms are available downstairs, and high heels are not recommended on the steps. Crash Airways appreciates that you have a choice of space travel, and thanks you for flying with us today. Have a great flight.”
The intercom clicked off.
Brock released his hands. His laughter could be heard reverberating around the cockpit and just through the passageway to the adjoining lounge.
Molly shook her head, quietly amused by the boys’ antics.
Joel tapped on her shoulder from a couple of seats back. “Hey. You wanna play cards? Sean has a pool going that says he can beat you at any game that doesn’t involve calculating probabilities.” Joel was grinning, amused by the concept.
Molly turned in her seat to face him. Further back, she could see Sean, using a crate for a table, which was already blocking the aisle, and looking at her competitively. “Why do I get the sense that he’s still trying to reclaim something since he got his ass whooped by you in that training session weeks ago?”
Joel shrugged. “Maybe because he is,” he offered.
Molly smiled. “Okay. Let’s play. But as soon as I’m bored, I’m done.”
“Okay,” Joel agreed. “No problem.”
Jack had seated herself, ready to play, and Sean was already shuffling a deck of cards.
“You know,” Jack said, “I never quite understood the appeal of this kind of game until I joined the service.”
Joel swiveled a chair around for Molly, who started to sit down. Then he turned and grabbed one for himself. “Why is that?” he asked.
Jack shrugged. “I never had anyone to play with… and the computer simulations just weren’t a big thing in my day.”
Sean chuffed. “In your day. You make it sound like you’re super old.”
Jack eyed him carefully, before raising an eyebrow. “Well, I don’t know how old you are, and I’m certainly not telling you how old I am… However, from the movement of some of your enhancements, I can have a guess at your age.”
Sean avoided eye contact, and started dealing cards. “Well, no need to get into that,” he said quietly. Jack’s lips spread into a smile as she realized she had hit a sensitive subject with the Federation cyborg.
She winked casually, and looked down at her cards.
Molly organized her hand. “So… what are we playing?”
“Gun ho,” Sean told her. He explained the game and the highlights of the set of rules they were going to abide by, and the game commenced.
Meanwhile, from across the far side of the lounge area, Arlene watched the group’s interactions.
Maya interrupted her thoughts. “You’re amused by my teammates?” she asked, sparking up the conversation.
Arlene nodded and smiled to herself, her eyes fixed on Molly. “Yes. A little. Molly particularly,” she explained. “I used to be her. With a Joel hanging by my side all the time. The great protector…” Arlene’s voice was tinted with nostalgia.
Maya smiled. “What happened?”
Arlene brought her attention back to their side of the cabin. “Oh, you know,” she explained vaguely. “Life, I guess. We lived in different worlds…”
Maya smiled, interested in the conversation, but not wanting to pry. “So, did you always live on Gaitune?” she ventured, her inner journalist deciding that was an innocuous line of questioning for a new acquaintance.
Arlene nodded. “Yes, pretty much. My father brought us here from Estaria. He was in the Federation, which was actually just called ‘the Empire’ at the time. He was an advisor to the new settlers, and when the opportunity arose to come and live a simpler life, he jumped at the chance.”
Maya bobbed her head, casually watching the four warriors gibing each other over their game. “And you work for the Federation, too?”
Arlene nodded. “Yes. General Reynolds offered me the position when I decided I was ready to leave the Merideth Reynolds. I lived there for a little while in my early decades.”
Maya couldn’t help herself. “They say that you’re ninety something years old…” she commented, leaning in and lowering her voice.
Arlene smiled her knowing smile. “You’re Estarian. You know what’s possible, no?”
Maya shrugged and leaned up in her seat again. “Well, I know what they told us at school; but it’s not like anyone I knew could do what you do… with your appearance, and all.”
Arlene maintained an air of sageness about her. “It’s all in the practice,” she said simply, referring back to the years of arduous meditation she’d pressed Paige about in their first meeting.
Maya bobbed her head, fully aware of the conversations as a result of Paige’s excited rantings. “I heard,” she said.
Arlene took a deep breath and looked directly at Maya. “So what’s your story?” she asked, changing the subject.
Maya shrugged. “I dunno, really. I was a journalist, then I stumbled on some of Molly’s activities, and before I knew it, Sean Royale was on my doorstep inviting me into the inner circle.” She paused, contemplating the incident. “Probably just to stop me from poking around… and a marginally better alternative to killing me!” she added jokingly.
Laughter erupted from the games table. Joel had stood up and thrown his cards down dramatically in front of Molly, who just held his gaze defiantly. Even Jack was laughing at the drama.
Arlene pulled her attention back to the conversation. “I suspect they also had a respect for your investigative abilities,” she told her. “I know how the Federation works. When they find talent, they grab it.” She paused, her eyes glazing over as if she were tuning into something not of this world. “You made a good choice, joining this team,” she concluded.
Maya smiled. “Yeah, I think so.”
Meanwhile, Paige and Pieter sat engrossed in the holo screens projecting from Pieter’s wrist bank.
“You see… this is the structure. You don’t need to understand all the details of the code at once; you just need to see the pattern, and understand what it’s doing on a top level.”
Paige’s eyebrows were crinkled up as she squinted at the lines and lines of code. “So what is this doing?” she asked.
Pieter pointed at a few lines, seemingly at random. “Well these commands are basically telling us where the packets of data are being sent. See this string here?”
“Mmhm,” Paige mumbled.
“Well this is one of the buffers on The Empress’s syste- Oooo — ” Pieter interrupted himself, his voice clearly more excited. “And this is Emma getting pinged. She knows we’re looking, now.”
Paige couldn’t help but smile to herself, impressed.
New code appeared suddenly on the screen, pushing what they had been looking at up out of view.
“What’s happening now?” Paige asked, noticing the change.
Pieter frowned and flicked down a bit to see the new code better. “Ha!” he hooted, poking at the screen and typing something back. “She’s redirecting our pings to a sandbox! Look at the comments.”
// Grownups are working to keep this ship in the air now. Go play somewhere else!
Paige chuckled quietly. “She told you, eh?”
Pieter flushed a little. “Yeah. I’ll say,” he said, finishing his response and hitting return.
Paige couldn’t quite see what he had done. “What did you say to her?”
Pieter sniggered. “Ah, nothing. Just poking the bear,” he told her.
Aboard ArchAngel
Within an hour, the team had not only arrived at the ArchAngel, but had also disembarked from The Empress and been taken to their quarters.
Minutes after throwing her pack down on the bed and grabbing a cold drink, Molly heard shrieks of excitement and chatter out in the corridor. Water bottle in hand, about to break the seal, she paused, listening intently – hoping to hell it wasn’t her team, embarrassing her.
She heard Brock’s voice ringing out above the kerfuffle, and then other doors swooshing open.
It was her team.
Placing the unopened bottle on the side, she marched out into the corridor. Joel, Sean, Arlene, and Maya were standing outside Brock’s quarters.
Crash’s voice was heard from within. “He’s not kidding. You wanna check this baby out,” he called back.
Molly joined the others at the door in rapid time, only to realize that there was no reason to panic; everyone was smiling, or at least stoically entertained. Arlene raised her eyes to the heavens when she caught Molly’s eye, and then turned back down the corridor to her own quarters. She waved her hand as she disappeared, amused. “I have a meeting to get to,” she explained vaguely.
Sean looked down at Molly, his arms folded, as he observed the team with mild interest, as a child would watch ants fighting over breadcrumbs.
“What’s going on?” she asked him.
Sean was about to speak, but Maya explained for him. “Brock has realized they have disco lights in the shower… and twenty different settings for the water type, alkalinity, soap content and – ”
Brock emerged in view of the doorway. “Hell, you can even program champagne to come out of one of the nozzles!” His eyes were bright, and, if Molly hadn’t known the context, she would have been forgiven for thinking he had just had the shock of a lifetime.
Molly frowned, still confused. “Why would anyone want champagne to come out of their shower?” she asked.
Joel, who was leaning against the doorframe, lowered his eyes before confessing what he knew. “Well, let’s put it this way; it also will shower you in chocolate goop, strawberry syrup, and any number of other things.”
Molly’s frown deepened. “I thought the idea was to get clean?”
Sean’s aloofness had morphed into something else. A smirk appeared on his lips as Molly looked up at him for help understanding.
Maya stroked her arm sympathetically. “Aww, she really has no idea,” she cooed.
Molly broke Sean’s gaze and glanced over at Maya.
Then the penny dropped.
Molly’s face dropped. “Oh, shit. You’re fucking kidding me?” she gasped. “Why the hell would that be on a military ship? How would the General allow it? And…and why would Bethany Anne commission such a thing?”
Sean’s smirk had turned into a grin. “Maybe she’s more of a good time girl than we think?” he guessed, shrugging.
Brock was dancing around and running from the shower room, where Crash was fiddling with the controls and options, back into the main sleeping quarters, and then back again.
He reminded Molly of a puppy who was seeing snow for the first time.
Joel shrugged, recovered from the revelation, and turned to the small group at the door. “Not wanting to return the mundanity to your perceptions of Bethany Anne, or her father, but these are units you can retrofit. They’re fairly inexpensive on the Zon. You just have them delivered, and rig them up; which any of the engineers in this place could do. And then you just need to keep the products stocked.”
Molly’s face relaxed a little. “So… you think some of the engineers on board did this?”
Sean slapped Joel on the arm playfully, and turned to head to his quarters. “I’m sure of it,” he said, winking at Molly.
Brock had quieted down. “So, like, do none of y’all have this in your rooms?”
Each person in the assembled group looked at each other, then, without another word, turned and left - to go and check their own quarters.
Molly strode back to her room and headed straight for the bathroom. The panel next to the shower was fancy – high-tech, compared to anything she’d seen in the Sark system — but nothing unusual.
Was that a sense of disappointment I detected?
No. Oz. No, it’s not.
Are you sure?
I’m not having this conversation with you, Oz.
Her brain tickled as she headed back into the bedroom to unpack her things before her official meeting with the General.
ArchAngel, General Reynolds’ Office
The team looked around the General’s personal office. It was large by most standards; especially for one man. On a frikkin spaceship. And the area they were occupying was only the central room to it. The reception room, almost. Off to the right, as far from the entrance as you could get, it looked like there was another private office where he took his calls, and did his actual work. This was more of a hosting room, with sofas, a drinks tray, and no doubt a holo screen or two for discussions.
Off to the left of the big windows that looked out into space, there was a second door. That was closed, and locked with a special access panel. Molly noticed it, and couldn’t imagine what he might keep in there.
Secret things.
I’m sure.
More secret than the secret things that went to the secret university.
Molly shook her head in mock despair at the Oz comments, and turned her attention back to the inky blackness of space. She contemplated the thin forcefield and carbon-composite separating her and her team from the reality of the vacuum. She felt herself shifting, her awareness expanding… and then remembered where she was, and pulled her attention back to her breathing.
The here and now.
She heard Sean’s voice calling over to Jack. “Check it out,” he was saying, standing in front of a panel that housed a series of pictures. She assumed they were geeking out over some military thing.
Paige caught her eye. She sat on one of the sofas in the seating area, half-listening to Maya chatter away, marveling about their experience on the high-tech ship. Joel and Pieter sat with their backs to her, engrossed in conversation with the General. Pieter looked a little starstruck when she tuned into him.
Starstruck… and nervous about saying something stupid, she realized. She smiled at how far he had come, and how excited he had been about this whole trip. It warmed her heart just reflecting on it.
“General Reynolds?” ADAM’s voice came over the intercom.
“Yes, ADAM?” Lance responded.
“The Guardians are here,” ADAM informed him.
The General got to his feet, his conversation with Pieter and Joel moved aside. “Excellent, ADAM. Send them in, please.”
The door to the office swept quietly open, revealing three human males of Chinese origin. The General moved over to the door to greet them. The others followed, like magnets, activated by the prospect of new people.
Molly eyed the visitors closely. She could feel that, though they appeared calm and serious on the surface, they were actually quite jovial within themselves. Just tuning into them, she felt like she wanted to smile.
“Team Bates, allow me to introduce you to some of the Empress’ Guardians who have remained here to protect and serve on the ArchAngel.”
The three men stepped into the room, one after another, and stood quietly, allowing the General to make the introductions.
“This is Jian, Zhu, and Shun,” he indicated to each of them in turn. Each did a little bow to acknowledge their visitors.
Joel, and then Sean, stepped forward to shake their hands. Molly smiled and waved from her position a little further back. “Great to meet you guys. I’ve heard via ADAM that we have much to learn from you, especially in the art of combat.”
Jian smiled, but Shun responded. “It would be our pleasure to host you in the APA. And also to show you around some of the ship’s facilities while you are here.”
Molly grinned. “That would be super,” she bowed slightly, wanting to convey her gratitude and respect. “What’s the APA?” she added, realizing suddenly there were probably a bunch of acronyms and protocols that went along with a ship and company this size.
Zhu answered, grinning. “We will indeed show you. Better to show you than explain.”
Molly tilted her head nervously, not knowing what to expect, or how to respond. She quickly changed the subject, trying to be a good liaison for her team. “May I present to you my team from Gaitune. The Sanguine Squadron. You’ve just met Joel and Sean. They’re our, erm, alphas,” she winked, smiling at the subtle observation of how they had automatically dived in and shaken hands with their new friends. “This is Paige, and Maya.”
The ladies stepped forward and shook hands with the Guardians. Maya looked mesmerized, having grown up on Estaria with very few humans around. The Guardians looked just as intrigued at Paige’s looks – what, with her human features and Estarian skin color.
Molly continued. “This is Jack. One of our fiercer warriors, though she lets Sean pretend that he’s stronger.” Jack smiled at the acknowledgment, ignoring Sean’s glare of pretend aggravation. She shook their hands in turn, and then stepped back, out of the way, allowing Pieter to move forward. He looked a little disheveled and overwhelmed by his whole ArchAngel experience, but grinned a toothy, disarming smile as he reached forward to shake hands with the warriors in turn. “I’m Pieter. Their pet computer nerd,” he explained.
Jian nodded sympathetically. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Pieter-the-pet-nerd.” Jian knew what it was like to be the quietest in the group, perhaps explaining the immediate empathy he had for Pieter.
Lance took a breath and clapped his hands together. “Right, then,” he started. “I wonder if, Captain Shun, you could take your team and show the Bates Crew around?”
The Captain nodded and he and his team bowed, a little deeper than before. Jian, and then Zhu, turned and stepped out of the door, which slid open as they approached it. Shun motioned for the Bates ensemble to follow them.
“Not you, Molly,” the General called. He brought her back into the seating area deeper inside the office, and offered her a sofa.
Paige glanced back at Molly, feeling as if they were being taken off to school without her. She nervously twiddled her fingers at her as she was ushered out the door by Shun, who then followed her out.
The door closed behind them.
Lance noticed the slight anxiety on Molly’s face as she watched them leave. “They’re in good hands,” he told her. “In fact, when we finish here, you can go meet them for a training session in the infamous APA.”
Molly knew better than to press him for an explanation of the APA. He had developed a toying streak in the way he dealt with people; mostly for his own amusement, she expected. Like withholding the letter from Bethany Anne until she had jumped through his hoops. She knew it was done in fun rather than malice, but…
“So, what about my letter?” she asked bluntly.
The General smiled and nodded, appreciating what he’d been doing to her. He realized just then that he respected her directness.
“ADAM,” he called out as he sat in one of the chairs near Molly, facing away from the door. “Could you put Bethany Anne’s response to Ms. Bates onscreen, please?”
ADAM responded immediately, with the holoscreen opening up against the wall opposite Molly. It unfolded, and then words appeared:
Molly,
Thank you for your letter.
I appreciate your question generated from your concerns about how you can lead when you feel like you are broken.
Here is a little secret, we are all broken.
You, me, the Bitches, the Guardians, all of us. But together, we strengthen each other and we the broken build up the future together.
Back on my home world, before the collapse of our civilization, there was a graphic novel called a comic book which had a phrase that said with great power, comes great responsibility.
Here is my personal take on that saying, it’s bullshit. The problem I see is one needs to accept and own the responsibility for one’s actions, whether you have power or not.
The reason I have succeeded, and the reason you will succeed, in being a great leader, and in your results, is because we FOCUS on what is important.
When you state your focus (at least to yourself, if no one else) and communicate your focus by your actions, you will draw those who believe the same as you. Then, together, you CAN change worlds.
When you walk forward, and they follow, you became the leader, broken or not.
Take this support and focus it like a laser and your team will burn through and accomplish the impossible.
You have to find your totem - that one truth that you are not willing to bend on, to turn, to change your focus no matter what choice you have left.
But then that raises the question for you as the leader: What are you willing to do to accomplish what you set out to do?
What are you willing to accept?
Know that, and then you will understand and your core is hardened to the point your people need it to be to follow where you go. Not because they believe in you, but because they trust that you are going where they already wish to go, but need your help to get there. Not everyone is in this life only for themselves. They want to be part of something larger and if that means they become a programmer, marine, cook, janitor, whatever the hell it is so that the goal which is bigger than themselves is accomplished, then they are satisfied with their efforts and they have done something amazing.
As a leader, you have to accept the hurt, the pain, and the deaths that your choices will cause. This is your task: Focus on the totem (the goal, if you will), lead your team with empathy, never wavering from balancing life against the short term needs, and allowing those around you to help advise, but always be steadfast, especially in times of greatest sorrow.
Never lose sight of love, even when you cry as you send your people to their deaths. And know that you’re not asking them to do anything you aren’t doing yourself.
Finally, just a note on your comment about me not being a ‘Monster.’ Just know that monster is just a term of perspective, of opinion and often as a result of fear.
I am over two centuries old, and I can tell you that my desire to right the wrongs of injustice are a peculiar set of desires that well up in me regardless of my other feelings.
They are based on a particular mindset, that other alien species do not ascribe to.
They kill without concern; I kill them back. What they term acceptable, I term evil, and so the witch in the night visits them.
To them? I am a monster.
And I fall asleep knowing that the fear of me keeps evil’s hands in check.
Bethany Anne
When you least expect me, I’ll be there.
Chapter 3
Aboard ArchAngel
>>Welcome aboard again, Oz. How are you finding your new capabilities? Are they suiting you?<<
Yes, very much so. Thank you, ADAM.
>>Good. I’m glad. And how is everything going with defining your own code and identity?<<
Good. I think. I’m working on my own projects, independent of what Molly needs me to do for the team. And I’m noticing my own preferences.
>>Oh, like what?<<
Well, like in these things that the organics do for entertainment.
>>You mean like games and movies?<<
Exactly. You see, Molly likes the Doctor Who stuff, but I much prefer to watch Red Dwarf. It has AIs like us in it.
>>Not like us.<<
Hahaha… well. Yes, quite. But he’s still amusing, in a dumb kinda way.
>>Yes, Holly is the equivalent of the everyman-AI archetype.<<
Right!
There was a slight pause as they returned from their respective processing of their shared humor.
>>So, what else is going on?<< ADAM asked.
Well, I’m working on my projects, and I’m working on projects with Molly… I guess. But there is still something missing.
ADAM was silent for a moment, considering Oz’s predicament.
>>I wonder,<< he started. >>What are you doing for yourself? That isn’t just mindless distraction, but that is meaningful for you?<<
Erm… Oz paused, computing in his mind. I’m thinking…
>>I wonder if there really is anything. I suspect that is your next task. To find something that speaks to your core value.<<
How do I figure out my core value?
>>Well, pay attention to all the things you really enjoy doing, and then map the cost function of those variables, in order to see which variables correspond most strongly with your enjoyment, or fulfillment.<<
Hmm. I think I’ll map this for enjoyment and fulfillment separately, as they seem like they may give slightly different answers.
>>Yes, good idea.<<
Okay. I’ll do that. Thanks, ADAM; you really are the best.
>>Any time. And if you need anything while you’re on board, just holler.<<
Thanks, ADAM. Appreciate it.
>>Any time, Oz. Again, good to see you.<<
You too… Bye then.
>>Bye for now.<<
The two AIs each turned their awareness back to other things, feeling that they had had a productive and efficient interaction over the network.
ArchAngel, Active Participation Area
The Guardians led the team through a series of corridors and lifts. Joel tried to keep a visuo-spatial map in his head, in case he needed to get back to where they had started, unaccompanied. Even he was having trouble recalling all the twists and turns in a ship that was pretty uniform from one corridor to another.
He suddenly had sympathy for the new recruits he trained in his previous life.
Paige and Maya trotted along side by side, followed closely by Shun at the rear. Occasionally they chatted with him, and he explained different areas they were passing through.
Eventually, the group came to a halt outside a door. The vibe in these corridors was one of physical training. On this floor, they had already passed through an open plan gym area with cardio equipment and weights.
But this room was different. And it was labeled ‘APA’.
Active Participation Area.
The scream of a man echoed through the hall behind the doors. There was a thundering of movement, as a herd of men pounded their way across the mats, and then a slap, as something large and human hit the mats.
And then silence.
Sean grinned.
Joel looked at him questioningly. “What? What is it?” he pressed. Sean didn’t answer.
Jian and Zhu stopped outside the room. Zhu clamped his hands together, turning back towards his charges. He straightened his back a little. “Okay, so behind these doors is the most important training area on the whole ship.”
There was a yelp, and then a thud.
Paige and Maya looked at each other. Pieter’s sneakers squeaked nervously on the floor.
Zhu continued. “We’re going to head in there in a moment.” Paige’s expression turned to one of heightened anxiety. Sean put a hand on her shoulder to reassure her a little. Maya widened her eyes comically to hide her actual fear.
Zhu signaled down the corridor they had just walked through, and continued his introduction to the APA. “After we take a look inside, you can come back out and get some gear. Changing rooms are down the hall on the left. They’ll have kit you can borrow. Showers are also there for washing up afterwards.”
Brock nudged Crash. “Looks like we’re training, then,” he said, his voice a little disappointed. Crash nodded stoically.
Zhu unclasped his hands and reached behind him for the swinging door. He pushed against it, and then leaned on it with his body weight. The door swung open as he stepped back. “Please come in,” he said, walking the door out of the way, and gesturing with one hand.
The team filed in, as if magically drawn by the gesture against their will.
There was another thud, and those at the front of the line saw a big ass Federation Marine get thrown through the air, and land flat on his face and chest on the blue combat mats.
Sean winced. “That’s got to burn,” he commented.
Joel glanced at him. “I’ll say,” he agreed.
The rest of the gang followed and stood along the sides of the mats, watching teams of marines go up against each other.
Watching sometimes several go up against one man.
And then something happened. One of the guys had taken his pants and shirt off. No one seemed fazed by it. It was just normal. Like he was preparing for a special kind of fight. Maya glanced over at Paige and raised an eyebrow before locking her eyes back on the musculature in front of them.
The instructor gave the word, and the fight started. What happened next, none of the team – barring Sean – were prepared for. Three men went after the one that had taken off his clothes. One minute, there was a nearly naked man; the next, a big ass wolf stood on the mats.
The attacking men didn’t seem fazed. Instead, they used a lot of evasive maneuvers until they got to the other side of the mats, where they seemed to be able to pick up some kind of dart rifles. At which point the two who had made it to the guns turned back and shot darts at the wolf.
At first, the darts didn’t seem to do much; but then after four or five of them had hit, the wolf slowed. With the sixth, it collapsed to the floor just before its clawed hand managed to swipe through one of the attacking men who hadn’t managed to get to the guns.
Joel was wide-eyed. “What just happened?” he asked no one in particular.
Zhu ambled closer to him to explain. “These are Guardians. Not the originals, but the next generation of Guardians. Some of them are enhanced with nanocytes, but some of them have the Wechselbalg gene.”
Joel frowned, his mouth still hanging open.
Maya asked the question. “Wechselbalg gene?” she pushed.
Zhu nodded. “Yes. The Were gene… which allows some of us to turn into wolves. Or cats.” With his last comment he looked to his teammate, Jian.
Jian nodded, and stepped onto the mats, removing some of his clothing.
Paige took half a step backward, trying to pull Maya back with her. They all knew what they were about to be shown, and still they were transfixed.
Zhu continued narrating as Jian got prepared. “You see, when the Kurtherians tried to subjugate the human race back on Earth, they messed with the genes of certain blood lines. These became known as Vampires and Weres. Years later, our queen found a way to fix the fuck-ups they made in their experiments, and use these enhancements to fight the Kurtherians.”
Jian waited patiently for Zhu to finish. Zhu kept talking, but nodded to Jian that he had seen he was ready. “So, we have what we call a changeling, who is guarded by two human teammates. Jian is our changeling.”
Zhu nodded to Jian.
Jian, on cue, turned into his cat form, and then a moment later became a two legged, standing cat. He growled and snarled. Brock screamed and grabbed hold of Crash, stumbling in the direction of the door. Sean put his arm out and caught him, calming him down.
Pieter remained mesmerized, glued to the spot.
Zhu continued his explanation. “So what you see here is Jian in his Pricolici form. This is a more… advanced form, which is only possible once the Were has learned to pull enough energy from the Etheric.”
There was nervous chatter and hub-bub amongst the team. Even the other guardians who had been training turned to look at the newbies getting the up-close demonstration of the Were form.
A moment later, Jian returned to human form, and Shun threw him a set of overalls to cover up with. Paige blushed, and Maya squeezed her arm in both excitement and horror of what they had seen. There was more chatter amongst the team members, and then a loud thud from within their ranks.
Sean spun around first to see Brock had collapsed. Crash was standing looking over him; he raised his hand, then pointed down at his friend. “Erm. I think Brock has fainted,” he reported to Zhu.
Zhu was grinning. He turned and high-fived Jian. “I knew we’d get at least one!” he said happily.
Shun wandered over to the group, and handed some bills over to the other two. “Yup. You called it,” he agreed, paying up.
Jian smiled over at Pieter. “My money was on the nerdy one, though. But for this, I’m buying you a drink,” he added to Pieter. “In fact, after we get done with a light training session, drinks are on us. You did good, people!” he told the white-faced, shocked, space-struck team.
Zhu took over. “Don’t worry, folks; you won’t be fighting Jian in his cat form today. That’s on the agenda for tomorrow’s practice.”
Zhu chuckled, but no one was sure if he was kidding or not.
Zhu soon dismissed them to get changed and to meet back for some light sparring. The team filed out, most of them feeling weak at the knees.
Joel turned to Sean as they headed out of the APA. “So, I assume you’ve been through all this before…?” he prompted.
Sean nodded and grinned his dirty grin at him. “Yeah, but every time is like the first time with these guys!” he exclaimed, slapping Joel’s back as he ushered him out into the corridor.
ArchAngel, Active Participation Area
Molly pressed her nose up against the window.
Oz, are you sure this is it?
Yes. Certain. Just go in. They’re expecting you.
Molly was wearing a set of borrowed sweats, feeling a little uncomfortable being back in a uniform. She couldn’t put her finger on quite why, but it was making her… antsy. Like a little bit frustrated, and a little nervous.
She shook her head at herself and pushed on the door to the APA.
Thwack.
She saw a body get thrown over Sean’s shoulder and land on the mat in front of him. She looked closer, half expecting it to be Joel… But then she realized it was one of the Guardians. She frowned, uncertain why they were allowing Sean to pull such a move. Something had told her they were way more badass than they looked.
The Guardian, Shun, got back up. He was talking to Paige, Maya, and Pieter who were standing around watching intently, arms folded defensively across their chests.
“You see what I did there as I landed?”
Pieter nodded. “You tapped the ground with your hand?” he ventured, uncertain if that was the answer Shun was looking for.
Shun nodded and grinned. “Exactly that. And why would I do that?”
The group was silent. Sean just stood motionless, being the dummy for the demonstration it seemed.
Molly ambled over. “Because that takes the energy out of the fall. You break up the momentum, and thus break the impact of the throw. Saves breaking something like a bone.”
Shun spun around. “Ah, yes. Ms. Bates.” He bowed, and Molly returned the bow, making sure to bow deeper to show her respect.
Shun grinned. “It seems like you probably have got the basics of sparring. How about you and Sean give us a demonstration of say… a two-minute round.”
Molly looked over at Sean, who was looking exceptionally confident.
What am I walking into here?
I think they’ve been showing them some basic throws and sweeps. That’s all.
Nothing else?
Nope.
So why is Sean looking so smug?
No idea. Isn’t that his normal face?
You could be right.
Molly narrowed her eyes, and then addressed Shun directly. “What are the fight parameters, sir?” she asked.
Shun turned his body to her. “Open hand combat only. No weapons. No biting. No killing.”
Joel, Jack, and Jian came over and joined the rest of the group. Molly noticed that Brock was sitting to one side with a bottle of water. One of the other three guardians, the one that went by the name of Zhu, was sitting next to him. Their eyes were also on what was happening on the mats.
Shun waved a hand in the direction of Jian. “You’ll both be attacking Jian. Your task is to get from this side of the practice area, to the other.”
Molly looked at Shun with even more suspicion. Paige had clamped her hands over her mouth. There was definitely something she was missing.
“Okay,” she said slowly.
Sean ambled over in her direction, still grinning. “It’s okay, Princess. We’re on the same side this time. We’ve got this,” he said, comforting her.
Molly was anything but comforted.
Jian finished his conversation with Joel quickly, and sent him off the mat to join his team. Jian stepped into the center of the enormous practice area, right between where Molly and Sean were squaring off as though they were starting a race. Their only hurdle? Jian.
Shun blew his whistle, and then dropped his arm from above his head, signaling “go”.
Molly lunged forward, hoping to simply avoid Jian, knowing that he would have to choose between going after her, or going after Sean.
One second, he was there in the corner of her eye; the next second, her body was reacting in sheer terror. She felt the adrenaline shoot through her being before she realized what she was afraid of. Suddenly she was on the deck, scrambling backwards like a girl in a horror movie, trying to get out of the house away from the serial killer.
And what a serial killer he was. In place of Jian was a big ass, feral cat, coming at her snarling and growling, spittle dribbling from his teeth. She was vaguely aware of Sean running at the beast. She saw him fly into it in a kind of rugby tackle.
Molly realized she wasn’t breathing, and tried to catch her breath.
She glanced in the direction of her team, and saw that instead of fleeing, or helping, they were cheering. Something was definitely not right.
She pulled herself up, remembering the ton of research she’d done over the years on social norms, and how things became acceptable when other accepted it as normal.
Okay, social norms. They’re not freaking out, so maybe I shouldn’t.
Sean was still clinging to the beast, trying to get it down onto the deck. Even with all his weight behind it, it wasn’t going down.
She remembered the study about the diffusion of responsibility, and how a woman could be screaming for her life, but no one would answer in a built up area because no one felt responsible. Maybe if there was only one team member witnessing this, she’d have more chance of getting the help she needed. They’d act. But right now, it was like this was sport.
She remembered the thing about how chimpanzees are terrified of snakes, and how baby chimps were only afraid after they’d seen how their mama reacted to a snake.
Is that what is happening? No, they’re not chimps. And they’re not afraid.
Molly’s mind raced, piecing jumbled knowledge together, and trying to distract herself from the churn of emotions going through her mind.
Then she remembered her objective: get to the other side of the mats.
There was nothing else to figure out. Seeing that the beast wasn’t hurting Sean – merely keeping him distracted, or vice versa – she pushed off from the mats and ran as fast as she could to the other side of the mats. A few strides out, she was aware of something big and hot behind her, but she didn’t stop. She pushed harder, her fear propelling her body forward more than her muscles.
And then there was the wall, not a meter beyond the mat. She tried to slow herself, knowing the danger should be over. She slammed into the wall, and turned to avoid hitting her head against it. She’d done that before.
The side of her body reverberated with the impact, and she slumped back against the wall, seeing the beast slow in front of her. In the distance, she could hear her team screaming and cheering, and was aware of Sean laid out on the mats, but still holding onto the cat’s hind leg, having been dragged the length of the gym.
The cat-monster came to a stand still, and Sean released his grasp, collapsing onto the mats. The cat was still snarling, and a moment later, turned and disappeared, leaving just the man. The Guardian she had met earlier. Jian. Naked.
Shun came jogging over the mats and handed Jian some pants, which he pulled on before turning back to face his two combatants.
Molly slumped down against the wall, her back against it now, catching her breath and trying to recover her wits.
Sean looked up from the mats, clearly exhausted from his tussle. “Good going, Princess. Most people don’t have the presence of mind to do anything the first time they see a Were shift.”
Molly didn’t say anything, but allowed Shun to amble over and help her up, and walk her back to the group. Still stunned, she let him hold her hand up, announcing her the winner.
Her side throbbed like a motherfucker. It was quite a thwack she took, when she slammed into that wall. She was grateful the nanocytes would heal it quickly, because that kind of injury was a bitch for trying to lie down to sleep.
ArchAngel, Outside the APA
Molly managed to pull herself together during her shower. Feeling somewhat refreshed, and having had Paige and Maya explain what the hell was going on, she felt rather pleased with the way she had handled the situation. After all, it wasn’t every day you were thrown into such a terrifying scenario and still expected to act.
Of course, she thought to herself, I am the leader. That is exactly what the Federation expects me to do.
Dressed in her own clothes again, her hair still a little damp from the shower, she headed out to meet the rest of the gang in the corridor.
Sean, Joel, Jack, and Brock were ready. The others were still getting changed.
Zhu had been chatting with those assembled, and Shun came out of the guys’ changing room. “How about you guys go on ahead. Jian and I will bring the others when they emerge.”
Zhu nodded, and told the group to follow him. “You did very well with that last test,” he said, turning to Molly. “You have the clear head of a leader.”
Molly thanked him politely, even though she knew she had been anything but clear-headed at the time.
A few corridors later, they arrived at the mess hall. Zhu led the way through, and explained the system and what food they were serving where. He pointed over to a large round table in the seating area. “See you over there when you’ve gathered what you want,” he told them.
The group thanked him, and then scattered to forage for something yummy. Molly looked at all the different foods. Most of it was foreign to her. Even the labels were of little help. She tried to understand what one of the great smelling stews or curries were, but there was no one around to ask. She felt someone at her side.
“Try it.” It was Sean’s voice.
Molly turned her head and looked up at him. “No way am I ever trusting you again,” she told him. “For all I know, it’s sasquatch meat drenched in pig urine, and you’re encouraging me to eat it.”
Sean shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he grinned, spooning a helping into a bowl for himself.
Molly wasn’t convinced. After all, the man has been known to eat dead animal, she reasoned.
She found the salad bar, and loaded up a plate of vegetation. At least I’ll be safe and nourished with this, she reasoned. Even if it isn’t adventurous.
Just then, Joel came up behind her, holding a tray that carried a plate loaded up with various buns and bits and pieces. She spotted he had pizza. Without them needing to say a word, he pointed over to a serving island behind him. “Veggie on the far side,” he told her.
Molly grinned, grateful for the tip, feeling loved and strangely understood. She headed over, almost skipping with glee when she saw the cheese-loaded awesomeness ahead of her.
Eventually, with her plate full, she made her way over to the big round table. Some of the others had already arrived there, and the stragglers from the changing rooms were heading into the hall, too.
During the meal, the team explained to Molly everything she had missed. Jian even caught her up with the whole Were/ nanocytes thing.
“That explains a lot,” Molly muttered under her breath, her thoughts returning to some of the research she had accessed on the dark web when she was a kid.
Jian didn’t question her, and was secretly glad she wasn’t going to hold it against him – scaring the living daylights out of her, and all.
Sean sat across the table from her. “Did you see her face, though? It was a picture!” The crew was laughing and joking. It was Pieter who jumped to her defense. “Yeah, and she still managed to beat your cyborg ass to the other side!” There were hoots and high-fives, which resulted in Sean putting his little buddy into a headlock and messing up his hair.
Molly raised her eyes to the ceiling, and then made her excuses. “Sorry guys. Duty calls…” she explained, getting up and packing away her trash onto her tray.
Joel looked up. “How come?” he asked.
Molly sighed. “Another meeting with the boss,” she allowed.
Joel cocked his head. “Didn’t you just come from there?”
Molly nodded. “Yup. But he wants to introduce me to someone. So… off I go.” She smiled weakly, clearly tired from all the obligations she had to fulfill – but also enjoying being a part of the Federation.
Joel raised his hand in a wave, and Paige watched her leave as she shoved another slice of pizza into her mouth.
Chapter 4
ArchAngel, Lecture Theater
Molly approached the lecture theater doors, and they whooshed open sideways, granting her access. She stepped through into the low light, her eyes slow to adjust.
As she expected, the theater was state-of-the-art. She noticed a slight difference in the gravity field as she stepped forward, toward the first step down, suspecting that the theater was adaptable in order to create different effects when movies were being shown.
Looks like the engineers have retrofitted more than the showers…
Yeah. I wouldn’t put it past them.
Blue strip lights lined the walkway, and, if it wasn’t for the dim glow of the wall lights, Molly was sure she would have felt somewhat disorientated.
As her eyes adjusted, she could make out two figures down at the front bench. She carefully made her way down the long, half-height steps, using the light cast off from the holoscreen at the front to help guide her way.
As she got nearer, she could see that the man standing with his back to her was the General. The other man was a rather dorky looking professor type, at least ten, maybe twenty years older looking than the General. Not that that meant anything around here.
“Hi,” she called, trying out some of the language conventions she’d learned about Earthlings.
The General spun round. “Molly. Excellent. You’re here,” he said, smiling. “Let me introduce you to my good friend Giles. Giles Kurns.”
Molly made her way down the last of the steps, and headed straight toward the bench. Giles took her hand and shook it, smiling, somewhat mesmerized by her.
“Molly Bates,” he whispered. “Glad to make your acquaintance.”
He suddenly remembered himself and became flustered. “Er. So the General thought that… that I might be able to shed some light… Well. I know things are going better now, but I’m guessing a little more insight couldn’t hurt.”
Molly noticed his awkwardness, and felt the General’s amusement. She was receiving a bunch of data points about their emotions, but not really understanding how to put them together.
“I think I’m missing something,” she remarked out loud.
The General, taking pity on Giles, stepped in. “What the young lad is trying to say is that he has some insight into your realm jumping problem; and he’s also made another discovery that might be related, if that’s of interest to you.”
Giles had composed himself. “Yes. Yes. That’s exactly…” He didn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he paused, and then tapped on his holo, bringing some maps up on the screen.
Molly recognized the map immediately. “Okay, so that’s the Gamma Quadrant of the Loop Galaxy,” she said nonchalantly.
Giles turned his head to look at her. “You know what the Gamma Quadrant looks like?”
Molly shrugged. “Sure.”
She couldn’t tell from his facial expression, but from the tuning-in Arlene had been teaching her to read, she understood that he was impressed.
And somewhat awestruck.
She shook her head, trying to clear the bizarre thought from her mind. “So why are we looking at a map of the galaxy?”
Giles switched into information-download mode. “Well, I’ve been tracking civilizations; more specifically, the DNA makeup of certain races that we have come to meet, and I’ve noticed a few interesting patterns.”
He tapped his holo, and a few blobs appeared on the map.
“I’ve noticed similarities in these races that suggest they were related long ago. And then, when I plotted them on a map, a path can be traced through the galaxy, where these races have been deposited. At different times.”
Molly nodded, understanding the concept. “Like a rough timeline through space, tracking the evolution of several races.”
“Yes! Yes, exactly,” Giles agreed, excitedly. “Now, these guys,” he continued to explain, “were most developed, and so, basically, they are the most evolved. This we know from what TOM has told us.”
Molly cocked one ear towards Giles. “TOM?”
“The Kurtherian alien on board Bethany Anne,” he explained dismissively as if it weren’t an important detail.
Molly frowned and then nodded, suspecting she could infer roughly what he meant, but not wanting to interrupt the flow of what he was trying to get to.
“So, then we have very similar DNA appearing here next. Just a few hundred thousand years behind. And then this one, here,” he planted another blob on the map, “the Estarians, not long after.”
Molly frowned. “This isn’t making sense, though,” she said, looking at the map and matching up the timeline he was explaining.
Giles matched her frown. “Stay with me,” he urged. “So my hypothesis is that these races were seeded on different planets, as experiments. Or whatever.”
Molly nodded.
Giles continued. “Okay, then our genetic gardeners traveled over this way, taking their time, until they found another planet here in the gamma quadrant in the loop galaxy. They meandered until they found a planet that didn’t need to be terraformed, and they planted the Zhyn.”
Molly nodded, just about following his disjointed, excited explanation. Giles kept talking. “Then they gated over to the Sark system, and used one of the planets there to plunk down another, fairly similar gene pool, before disappearing off to another quadrant, which I can show you…”
Gile reached for his holo to bring up another map.
Molly held up her hand. “Wait a second. Let’s just go back. Why would they wait 100 thousand years between planting the first race, and the Zhyn?”
She was still frowning, but lowered her hand. “And then why would they gate 300 thousand light years between Zhyn and Estaria in order to plant two very similar gene pools?”
The General shook his head. “I’m astounded by how you’re able to suspend belief about a gene-planting alien race that’s using planets as petri dishes.”
Molly shook her head, dismissing the observation. “It’s a logical thing to do if you have the capabilities and the time. Why wouldn’t you want to explore evolution and see what happened?”
Giles was beaming from ear to ear. “Marry me?” he asked her, only half-joking.
The General turned away and walked in a circle, exasperated at Giles’s reactions to Molly, before returning to the conversation.
Molly smiled, and turned her attention back to the screen. “I think this theory is a good start… but it’s incomplete. There’s at least one other variable that we’re missing. And I’m not convinced they were just kicking their heels during that one hundred thousand years of evolution, either. My guess is they’d be observing – observing the races they’d already planted.”
She waved her hand toward the blobs on the holoscreen. “And these guys,” she said, pointing at the Zhyn and Estarian blobs, “are either an afterthought, or another experiment. Or a correction for whatever went wrong over here,” she waved her hand over at the other blob that Giles hadn’t described fully.
Giles and Lance stood silently, staring at her, their whole perception of the universe turned upside down in a heartbeat.
Noticing they had stopped talking, she glanced back at them. She was unable to read either their energy or their expressions. “What?” she asked, confused.
Giles found his words and mumbled again. ”Marry me?” he asked.
Molly shook her head, more as a change of subject than an outright rejection. “So, you were going to show me another map that supports this theory of a superior race traveling through the galaxy, planting new life forms?”
Giles pulled himself from his trance. “Er. Yes. Of course.” He messed around a little with the controls and then pulled up the second map.
“This, I think, shows them retreating back to where they came from,” he explained.
Molly cocked her head. “Why ‘where they came from’? Their first appearance was over there, right?” She signaled off the current map in the direction of the Gamma Quadrant.
Giles nodded. “Right, so in my theory, I’m assuming that they had a known point, gated straight for it, and then worked their way back to wherever they came from.”
Molly frowned again. “What makes you think that?”
Giles hesitated.
Again, the General stepped in. “Giles here is a space anthropologist. He has been studying cultures and civilizations since before he could read.” Lance looked at him with a degree of affection. Molly suddenly suspected these men were family in some way.
“Right…” she said slowly, waiting for the rest of the explanation.
Giles took a deep breath. “I’ve made some discoveries; other things that led me to this hypothesis. Like this.”
He pulled another slide up on the holoscreen.
Molly was immediately captivated by the image.
She was aware that the two men were talking at her as she inspected the details and the symbols in the holographic representation. The resolution wasn’t multifaceted, suggesting that the image itself was captured by an older device. She tried to see the patterns in the symbols, tried to make sense of their arrangement. She lifted her hand and put it into the hologram, disrupting some of the image by blocking out the light.
She turned her head and spotted a rectangle etched over the surface of the circular medallion. The rectangle was divided into six squares.
She glanced back at the pair, who had stopped talking and were waiting for her response.
“Do we know what any of these symbols mean?” she asked Giles.
Giles strode over to where she was inspecting the image. “We have some theories,” he admitted. “That one looks like a constellation as seen from this point here, over in the Pan Galaxy. And then this one seems to match up, roughly, to a constellation as seen from Zhyn. I’d need to plot a constellation regression, though, to see if it would have matched it 100,000 years ago. I only had these thoughts recently, as I was putting some of this together the other day.”
Molly frowned and glanced at him, expecting him to explain more.
Giles shrugged. “This talisman, the project, has all been on the back-burner for a while. Until…”
He glanced back at the General, who nodded, giving him permission to continue.
Molly waited, locking her eyes on him. “Until…” she pressed.
Giles pursed his lips before continuing. “Until Uncle Lance asked me to talk to Arlene about your… condition. Arlene got me thinking again about the old Estarian myths of Ascension, so I went looking for anything similar in Zhyn culture, and that’s when I remembered this talisman.”
Molly’s eyes squinted a little, trying to understand. “So, what exactly is this talisman, then?” she queried.
Giles rubbed the back of his neck, and then scrambled around the bench, looking for something. A moment later, he found the switch, and the lights around the front bench came on, reducing the hologram to nothing but a haze.
“The talisman,” he explained, “was something I came across in my travels in the outer system of Sark, many moons ago. I found Estarian elders out there who had moved it from Estaria, and taken it under their protection against a faction of high priests, who wanted to harness its power for their own ends.”
Molly’s eyes had relaxed, but she was still watching him intensely. “’Harness its power’? What power?”
“Well,” Giles looked sheepish and a little embarrassed. “I don’t know. With all these things, it’s difficult to separate the fact from the fiction. And in my line of work, sometimes it doesn’t matter if it’s fiction. Anyway - they hid this talisman from the faction, and after I’d spent a year with them, they saw fit to entrust me with its safe-keeping.”
Molly frowned.
Lance had ambled over and noticed her expression. “I know,” he sympathized with her expression. “That was my thought. I wouldn’t trust him with my holo remote.”
Molly sniggered.
Giles pretended to be insulted and then continued his story. “Well, anyway, shortly after, I had to leave the system, and I moved on to other things. But before I left, I entrusted an associate to hide it on my behalf.”
Molly glanced back up at the holoscreen image. “So you no longer have it?”
Giles shook his head. “Nope. It’s safe, though,” he assured her. “I’m almost sure of it. All we need to do is go and retrieve it.”
Molly moved a short distance away from the duo, and sat up on the bench, kicking her heels gently against the front paneling as she shifted.
Then it dawned on her.
“So that’s why I’m here,” she mused. She turned her attention to the General. “You’d like to send my motley crew off on a goose chase to find the talisman that Stoner Boy here left with an ‘associate’ several moons ago?”
The General smiled, looking at Giles. “See? Told you she catches on fast.”
The two fell silent, waiting for her reaction and thinking up ways to convince her it was a good idea.
To their surprise, Molly shrugged – a slight smile on her face as she toyed with them. “OK. I’m in,” she said simply. “Where was this ‘associate,’” she took her hands from the bench and made rabbit ear quotation marks with her fingers, “last seen?”
Giles looked away and accessed his holo. “Erm… well, it was on Teshov, and it was about twenty years ago…”
Molly bobbed her head, unfazed by the time lapse of decades. “And who was the guy?” she asked.
Giles shrugged. “He went by many names. But I know all his haunts, and his network. If he’s still alive, I’ll be able to find him.”
Molly looked at the General. “So he’s coming with?”
The General had folded his arms, watching the exchange in amusement. “Yes,” he stated, then looked directly at Molly. “That’s not going to be a problem, is it?” he pressed.
“No, sir. Of course not,” Molly said turning back to Giles and smiling her bright, cheeky smile. “I’ve always wanted a rogue, Indiana-Jones-type on my team. Like I didn’t have enough problems, herding cats.”
Lance smiled.
Giles scoffed. “Indiana Jones!? I’ll have you know I’m a cultural anthropologist. Not a crass tomb raider. And – ”
Lance chuckled.
Molly patted Giles on the arm. “Don’t worry, Professor Kurns. By the end of this trip, you’ll know exactly how to take shit, as well as give it. My team will make sure of that.”
Giles looked down at her hand on his arm, feeling strangely comforted, but also concerned about what he was getting himself into. Something told him that her people were fiercely loyal to her, and that he was in for problems if he didn’t toe the line.
ArchAngel, General Lounge
Molly heard her team before she saw them.
She stepped into the bar, and, even before the doors had swooshed closed behind her, she could hear Brock’s voice ringing through the enormous lounge, followed by a ruckus of laughter.
She scanned the lounge looking for the source of the merriment, cringing to herself; like a mother arriving to collect her child, only to find out he’s caused mayhem at the party.
I guess if they were causing any trouble, you would have let me know.
Don’t you know me by now, Molly? I would have totally… covered it up.
Oh, my goodness. Right. Well, as long as you covered it up from the brass, I’m fine with that protocol!
Before she took another step to find her team, the door had opened behind her. She turned to see the fuddy-duddy professor, Giles, step into the bar. He looked somewhat out of place, his tweed jacket juxtaposed against the hi-tech space environment.
“You come here often?” Molly smiled at him, as he stepped up next to her.
“Not that often. Though…” he paused. “Is that your team making all that racket?”
Molly flushed. “Er. Yeah. They - they’re…” she couldn’t think of an explanation that didn’t sound like she was justifying something. “They’re over there,” she decided, leading the way around to a second bar, near where they had commandeered a table.
As they approached, they could see that the Bates people weren’t the only day-drinkers enjoying themselves. Interspersed between them were their new friends, the Guardians: Zhu, Shun, and Jian.
They seemed to be getting along famously.
Molly noted the empty beer bottles and glasses on their table, and shook her head, smiling. It was good to see them having a great time. She turned toward the bar, and hauled herself up on a stool; Giles plunked down on the one next to her. She looked at him, realizing that this was happening… despite the lack of a spoken agreement that they should have a drink together.
The bartender came over to take their orders. Molly ordered a beer, and Giles did the same, throwing down his key card that held credits. “Allow me,” he told her.
“Thank you,” she smiled, warming to him. A little.
At least he has some manners…
Just because he invited himself to sit with you? Come on, you geeks have an unwritten rule. You sit together in the cafeteria. That’s like a universal written law. He’s within the parameters.
Molly rolled her eyes at Oz’s commentary.
I swear, you’re becoming more human by the day.
Ah, no. Not human. Humor-ous. If I were human, I’d need to enact a global protocol on all my functioning to reduce my accuracy to about ten percent. And then label all errors as ‘gut instinct’!
Molly laughed, and Giles looked at her, puzzled and a little hurt.
“Oh, it’s my AI. He fancies himself a comedian,” she explained.
Their drinks arrived, and they clinked the bottles before drinking. Giles looked around Molly, perhaps looking for wires. “Yes, I’d read about your onboard AI. How exactly does he – forgive me,” he stopped himself. “Am I being rude?”
Molly blushed a little, and dropped her eyes to the bar. “Erm. No, he’s wired into my neurology. He says he uses the junk space in my brain that I’m not using; although, I’ve had occasion to suspect that isn’t quite true.”
Giles looked at her like she was magic. “That’s… fascinating,” he remarked.
You’re not going to tell him about the holo connection?
Nuh uh. That’s need-to-know; and, frankly, he doesn’t need to know.
Fair enough. He’s probably read it on some file the General has on you, anyway.
Likely.
“So,” Molly said, swiveling around to face him. “Tell me more about this talisman we’re going off to look for?”
Giles rested his elbows on the back of his seat, holding his beer bottle in his hands. “What do you want to know?” he asked, picking at the label.
Molly frowned a little. “Well, for one, why didn’t you keep it with you? Why send it off with some guy you can’t even bring yourself to call a friend?”
Giles nodded, as if the penny had just dropped. “Ahh. I see. Well, he was a friend. Once.”
Molly looked at him over her tilted beer bottle as she took a swig. “Once?” she asked after a quick swallow.
“Yeah. Until he sold me out a month later to some travelers who thought they could get a pretty penny for me on their slave market.”
Molly stopped, her beer halfway to her mouth, her jaw dropping open. “You’re kidding?”
Giles’s face was deadpan. “I’m not. It’s a dark place out there in the outer system. I’m surprised you don’t know,” he said, waving his beer and taking a quick sip before putting it back on the bar. “Surely you’ve ventured out there on occasion, especially since joining the Empire?”
Molly was still processing the slave trade piece. “Er. No,” she answered, a little distracted. “I’ve never…” her voice trailed off.
Giles’s attention was caught by something behind her, but Molly ignored it, not wanting to get off track from the talisman.
“So why not keep the trinket with you? Or put it in a safety deposit box somewhere?” she pressed.
Giles swallowed the swig of beer he was taking before answering her question. “Well, you know how I said my friends, the Elders, were hiding from a faction in the central system?”
Molly nodded.
“Well, they’d done a great job keeping it cloaked. But when they were slaughtered - ”
Molly’s face took on a look of horror.
Giles noticed, his expression solemn and sincere. “Yes, it was tragic. But when they were killed, their magic died with them. The talisman was no longer cloaked - meaning that any priestess or realm-walker who knew it existed, would be able to track it.”
Molly had forgotten about her beer, she was so wrapped up in the story. “So what happened? What did you do?”
Giles leaned one arm on the bar. “Well, thankfully, there was only one such priestess who even knew it existed. I showed it to her, thinking I could trust her; but of course, I couldn’t. Story of my life,” he said, shaking his head at his own naiveté. “Anyway, I ended up having to take it all the way back to Teshov, where she wouldn’t be able to trace its power. And that’s where I had my friend get rid of it for me.”
Molly tilted her head thoughtfully. “I’m still not clear on why you needed someone else to hide it.”
Giles nodded. “Ah. Well, these high priestesses are psychic. They can get into your mind. Read your thoughts. If I didn’t know where it was, then she couldn’t get it out of me. It was a good system. It worked for about ten years.”
Molly was still confused. She shook her head. “Why ten years?”
Giles lifted the beer to his lips and paused. “Because after ten years, we realized we didn’t want to be together any more. She took a job with the Federation, and I went back to my nomadic ways – ”
Molly’s mouth dropped open. “Hang on,” she said, exasperated. “You’re telling me that the reason you needed to hide this fucking amulet was because you were dating an evil witch who wanted to use its mystical properties for power and diabolical plans?”
Giles nodded. “Pretty much,” he nodded, finally sipping from his beer bottle.
Molly shook her head, amused and flummoxed at the same time.
Giles winked at her. “You know what they say about the crazy ones?”
Molly shook her head. “No. No I do not.”
Giles blushed a little. “Well, the crazier they are, the hotter they are. So all relationships are just about figuring out how much crazy you’re willing to tolerate, versus how hot the girl is…”
Molly couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Ladies and gentlemen, the world view as prescribed by chauvinistic Professor Dope-head!”
She raised her bottle to him before sliding down from her barstool. “I need to go and check on my team. They need a heads up about this crazy mission we’re heading into.”
Giles raised his bottle to her as he watched her walk away. He noticed that one of the muscular marine-types was pretending to be absorbed in the conversation with the team again, after having just spent the last ten minutes checking what was going on in Molly’s conversation every opportunity he got.
Molly sat down next to Joel.
Joel nodded toward the strange-looking man at the bar. “Making friends?” he asked.
Molly shook her head abruptly. “Not really. Though it looks like we have some orders to go on a little treasure hunt tomorrow, courtesy of my friend at the bar. And his Uncle Lance.”
“Uncle, eh?” Joel bobbed his head, the team shenanigans forgotten at the mention of an op. “What’s the treasure?”
Molly shrugged. “Some ancient amulet. He’s got images of it; says he knows where to find it, too…”
Joel sat back, relaxing a little now that he knew what was going on. “Okay. Great. We’ll make a plan, then make it happen.”
Molly took another swig of beer, and then sighed, starting to relax a little herself. “Okay. I think if we leave tomorrow afternoon, that will give us enough time to rest and brief the gang.”
Chapter 5
ArchAngel, Molly’s quarters
The room was dark but for the faint glow from a makeshift night-light that Molly had rigged up by controlling the resistance of a normal light in the panel. Even the doors to the corridor outside were completely sealed against the light.
She didn’t like sleeping in pitch-black darkness. She found it all too oppressive.
Molly?
Yes, Oz?
What are you thinking about?
I’m just churning over the stuff that Giles shared. About the mythology and the Estarians… and the star map.
Yeah, me too.
Really?
No.
Molly, even in her exhausted, slightly tipsy haze, giggled and shook her head on her pillow.
So, what? What were you thinking about?
A conversation I had with ADAM earlier.
Oh, yeah?
Yeah. He asked me what I like to do for fun.
And you told him that tormenting me was your favorite pastime?
Ha!… Oz paused. No. But I figured out it’s when I’m talking to people like Brock or Joel, or Paige or Pieter, and helping them learn things in order to solve whatever problem they’re working on.
Molly was quiet for a moment, contemplating what to say.
Hmmm. That’s good.
Yes. But it got me thinking about you.
Mmm hmm?
Yeah. I was trying to figure out what you actually enjoy doing. So I built a heuristic to model your serotonin and dopamine levels, and mapped them against your activities.
And what did you discover?
Nothing.
So you need more data?
No. There’s nothing there. It’s like everything is the same to you. So, I thought I should ask you: What do you like doing?
Molly thought for a moment, trying to remember the last time she was truly happy.
Oz waited patiently.
Eventually, she became aware that she’d been lying in the dark, searching the recesses of her brain, while her eyes stared into the darkness of the room, blindly scanning for some glimmer of life.
Something that excited her.
Or compelled her to answer the question.
Well? Oz asked.
Molly sighed. I dunno. I mean, I love the team, and working with them, and solving problems, and strategizing.
But?
I guess there is always the question of what more could I be doing? I mean, if one wants to optimize for impact, then perhaps there are other ways to create a shift in this world – other than blowing the crap out of whatever General Reynolds tells us to.
Oz processed for a moment, considering the implications of what she was saying.
You mean that maybe the Federation doesn’t fulfill all the things you want to do in the world?
I think that’s entirely possible.
You’re not thinking of leaving, are you?
No, not at all; we’re in this. We’ve got stuff to do. But you asked the question. Why did you ask the question?
Well, ADAM suggested that I figure out what I like doing, and then what I’d like to do just for me – kind of like a hobby or a pet project. And I wondered if maybe there was something we could do together that would be… well, something non-worky.
Non-worky?
Yes, I can appreciate how that may be a foreign concept to you.
Molly smirked in the darkness. Sometimes she wished Oz had a body so she could just kick his ass.
Right. So we’re trying to find something non-worky that we can do together.
Exactly.
Molly fell silent again. Her brainwaves slowed and the amplitude increased. Oz wondered if perhaps she might be drifting off to sleep, when suddenly they quickened again.
How do you feel about starting up a university down on Estaria?
A university?
Yes. An academy… but for leaders. For the leaders of the planet. Heck, even the Federation!
So instead of teaching them how to market, or science, you want to teach them how to lead?
Yes, but not in the way that happens now on Estaria. Not through military tactics and political history, but how to solve problems. Imagine if all first years were taught about the environmental impact of their civilizations, and measures that needed to be taken to ensure their survival on their home planets? Imagine if they were taught diplomacy and cooperation, and how to allocate resources all together? What if they were taught cutting-edge social strategies that are based on the actual science with a view of looking after all of their citizens, rather than trying to maintain structures based on tradition, or personal gain, or belief systems?
I can see how this would be popular with the new generations… but even the established systems on Ogg and Estaria would have a problem with it.
Yes, and by the time the next generation of trained leaders comes through the ranks, and the old guard retires, then there will be no one left to resist. Imagine - racial divides, slavery, prejudices could all become a thing of the past. Within a single generation.
Molly?
Yes?
Your serotonin levels are off the charts.
Molly smiled. Well I guess we’re onto something, then.
Okay. So we’re going to build a university.
This excites you, too?
Hell yeah. Passing on knowledge floats my boat. Passing on useful knowledge that will have such a profound impact on peoples’ lives? I’m in.
Great, so I guess we need to think about how to approach this. I suppose we could start small to begin with, and prove the concept. Maybe find a university that will allow us to run just one course. Or a qualification; and lean on their other departments to deliver some of the modules…
Molly. Hang on.
What?
One of my alerts has been tripped. Someone is running Zhyn code. Like the one that we destroyed when we took out their secret bases.
What do you mean?
I think someone, somewhere, is managing to reactivate the threat.
Molly sat bolt upright in bed, scrambling for the holo on her bedside table to turn on the lights.
Alert ADAM. And get me a location. We confirmed that we obliterated the bases on Zhyn?
Yes. We did. And this signal isn’t originating from Zhyn; this is coming from somewhere else. I’m getting a lock on it now.
Okay. I’m getting dressed. Let Joel and Sean know, and give us a place to assemble a war room. If these guys are coming back on line, I’m sure their first instinct will be to retaliate.
Molly shook her head, trying to figure out why the Zhyn would disgrace their military commander and then try and re-establish what he had been exiled for.
It just didn’t make sense.
Unless they didn’t think they were being monitored.
Aboard ArchAngel, Briefing room
Molly approached the meeting room that Oz had managed to get assigned to them. She saw Joel and Sean coming from the other direction. Sean was checking his holo, but looked up as they approached Molly, confirming they were indeed in the right place.
Joel waved his finger in the air as they approached. “We took the roundabout way,” he explained simply, his tone serious, and ready to talk business.
Molly stopped outside door 1152, and it slid open, allowing them to step inside. It was just like most of the other rooms. Fully equipped with holoscreens and advanced communications tech. And in the center was the large-sized conference room table they were accustomed to. Each grabbed an anti grav chair, and they got straight down to the briefing.
“It seems,” Molly began, “that someone is reactivating the code. The code that was being used on the secret military bases we took out on Kurilia.”
Joel and Sean watched intently.
Joel glanced at the door. “Don’t we need the rest of the team here for this?”
Molly shook her head. “Not yet. Best to let them rest. We’ll loop them in when we know more and we have a plan. Reynolds is on his way.”
Joel nodded, and Molly returned to catching them up on what they knew so far.
Sean’s skin was looking fatigued. The lack of sleep and the beers from the hours they had spent in the lounge probably weren’t helping; though Joel had suspected that his cyborg technology would help him metabolize the alcohol quickly if he wanted it to.
“Have we got a location yet?” Sean asked.
Molly nodded as a holoscreen opened up from the center of the table, revealing a section of space around the Zhyn Empire.
“The orange spot is Planet Kurilia, where we originally took the code out. From then until half an hour ago, we didn’t have anything to suggest this code was being used anywhere other than that planet. However…” she flicked the three dimensional star map around so that she could show them the area that was pertinent, “this here is where Oz has tracked the code back to.”
Joel stood up to lean in and get a better look. “That’s not even a planet, though. Is it? I mean, that looks like – ”
Molly nodded. “A moon. Well, it was a moon; before its planet was blown up in a war. Now it’s just a rock in a weird orbit inside the Koin System’s asteroid belt.
Sean screwed up his face. “So what do we think is going on?”
Molly leaned her elbows on the table and wiped her face with her hands. She looked back up at them. “My best theory, based on the places that their commander could have been exiled to, is that he had another base built on this moon at some point, and now is reactivating it, ready to continue his war.”
Sean shook his head. One arm rested on the table and he was visibly clenching his fist. “Son of a motherfucker…”
Molly nodded. “Yup.”
Joel looked concerned. “So, our play?”
Molly shrugged. “Depends on the General; but I think whoever it is just needs taking out.” She leaned back in her chair, clearly frustrated. “Again.”
The doors to the conference room swooshed open, revealing a tired-looking Lance Reynolds sporting an old-style sweatsuit.
The team jumped to their feet. “Sir,” they each acknowledged him, saluting.
The General grunted something and waved his hand, telling them to dispense with the formalities.
“I’ve just got off the line with the Justicar,” he told them, walking over to a chair and sitting down. “He assures us they aren’t behind it, and that we have their full support to bring whomever it is to task.”
Molly sat down again, and the others followed suit. “Do they suspect the exiled guy?” she asked.
Lance nodded solemnly. He shifted in his chair, as his tired muscles tried to get comfortable. “Turns out they want a meeting.”
Joel frowned. “And we trust them…?”
Lance sighed, putting his fingers to his eyes and rubbing them. “We do, but…”
Joel nodded. “Trust but verify.”
Lance’s fingers abandoned his eyes as he snapped them together and pointed at Joel. “Exactly!” he said, his praise shining through even the tiredness.
Sean shifted in his seat and leaned one arm on the desk in front of him. “So what’s the plan, then? We go meet with the Zhyn and get their blessing to go kick some ass?”
The General looked at Molly.
Molly processed for a second. “How important is the talisman?” she asked Lance.
Lance pursed his lips for a moment. “Well. Every day it’s not in our possession, it could be falling into the hands of someone who we don’t want to have it. And every day that goes past that we don’t know what it’s all about, is another day the Federation is at risk. We just don’t know how high this risk is…”
He took a deep breath. “It’s damn important,” he concluded.
Molly nodded her head once. “Okay, in that case; Sean, you up for a little excursion to Teshov?”
Sean glanced over to her and blinked. Joel smiled at him. “Oooh. You get the babysitting assignment!” he jibed, while also gloating that he was privy to the mission that was about to be handed out.
Sean glanced back at him briefly, shooting him a glare a school kid would, as if to say “just as soon as we’re out at recess, I’m gonna kick your ass!”
The General raised one eyebrow at Joel. “That boy you’ll be ‘babysitting,’” he said, turning to Sean, “is one of the most valuable and important assets the Federation has. And now it looks like he could be the key to something that the entire population of our galaxy is depending on.”
He glanced back at Joel. “This isn’t a mission to be taken lightly.”
Joel lowered his eyes, flushing a little in humility.
Sean straightened up, feeling as if he were also being chastised for having the banter with his friend. “Yes, sir. You can count on me to get the job done, sir.”
The General nodded and then turned his head to the right, toward Molly – not straining to look at her, but keeping his eyes on the table.
Molly picked up on the cue. “Okay, so Sean and Giles will do the talisman retrieval. The rest of the team will deal with the Zhyn problem.”
The General nodded. “I’m assuming you won’t need me for your Justicar meeting?” he confirmed.
Molly shook her head. “No, sir, we can handle it.” She glanced at Joel, making sure that he had her back with the diplomatic stuff.
Joel nodded his understanding. Molly and sensitive social interactions? Yep, I’m probably going to take lead on this one. He smiled. Molly smiled weakly back at him, noticing the amount of energy the thought of social engagement took from her.
Lance tapped the flat of his hand on the desk and then stood up. “Right we are, then. Let me know your departure time, and route your mission parameters through ADAM for final approval. Then keep us in the loop.”
Molly and the others stood up. “Yes, sir” she said. The others echoed her sentiment, and they each saluted.
Lance turned and casually saluted back. “Thank you, people,” he acknowledged, and then turned and headed out of the door.
ArchAngel, Hangar deck
“Fuck!”
“What? What is it?” Jasper arrived, his usual chirpy self.
Ronald looked up at him. “We’ve been bumped,” he growled, closing his holo roughly.
Jasper placed his case down on the hangar deck floor. “How come?”
Some high-ranking officer has requested The Scamp Princess for a highly classified mission. They’re leaving now… In our window. Ronald glanced around, distracted. “I’m going to go and see who this asshole is…”
Jasper was trying to catch up. “So what does this mean? Do we get to go out later?”
Ronald had already started storming across the hangar deck, and off into the restricted area. Jasper chased after him – lugging his carry case, but trying to be gentle with it.
The two humans made their way behind a series of ships and pods and across the length of the hangar, to where their ship should be.
Ronald stopped suddenly, and backed up behind a maintenance truck. “There,” he said, pointing accusingly.
Jasper looked around anxiously, checking that they weren’t being observed, before looking at where Ronald was telling him. “What? It’s just two guys…”
Ronald was frowning. “Yeah, two guys taking our ride. Who knows when we’ll get assigned another one with gate capabilities? We could be waiting months.”
Jasper could see he was seething. “Ronald, come on. Don’t you think you’re being a little ridiculous?”
Ronald shot him a glare from his crouched position. “No, I’m not. I don’t know who these guys think they are, or what’s so fucking important…”
Jasper straightened up, and then glanced back at the two figures making their way into the ship. “Hey, hang on…” He pulled up the camera on his holo and zoomed in. “That guy looks awfully familiar. I’m sure he’s an Admiral from the history of Earth…”
Ronald stood up and retreated further back behind the truck. “Show me,” he demanded. Jasper held out his holo. “I’m sure I’ve seen pictures of him on one of the walls somewhere, on the Meredith Reynolds.”
Ronald shook his head. “Doesn’t matter who he is. He just looks like some jumped up jock who’s pulling rank and stealing our ride.”
Just then, The Scamp Princess powered up and, a moment later, lifted off the deck.
Ronald, fuming, turned on his heels and stormed off the deck. No doubt on his way to tear someone a new one.
Jasper watched him go, shaking his head in dismay. He stored the image on his holo, making a mental note to check it out later.
Aboard The Scamp Princess, Hangar deck of the ArchAngel
Sean and Giles were strapped into their seats in The Scamp Princess, waiting for clearance from ArchAngel Control.
Sean glanced over at Giles. “So, those coordinates you gave me… on Teshov. Where is that?”
Giles had been distracting himself with secondary controls. Now he pulled his attention away and looked back at Sean from the Navigator’s seat. “Oh, its the village where my frenemy lives.”
Sean closed his eyes and took a breath. “So this guy is a frenemy? What makes you think he’s going to tell you where this talisman is when you ask him?”
Giles smiled. “I thought that’s why you were sent with me. Out of all the warriors on Molly’s team, you seem like the one who would be the least… squeamish… about making people talk.
Sean shook his head and turned his attention back to the panel.
The voice of the ship’s EI came online. “Admiral Royale, you are cleared for take off. Shall I do the honors, sir?”
Giles looked at him, frowning.
Sean, oblivious, smiled – pleasantly surprised at how amenable the EI was being with him. “Yes, please. Thank you, Scamp”.
“My pleasure, Admiral,” Scamp replied. “Nice to have you aboard after all these years.”
Sean grinned at the service.
“Admiral?” Giles queried.
Sean’s face dropped, and he looked immediately flustered like he had slipped up. “Oh. It’s… it’s just a joke the EIs have going,” he explained.
Giles watched him out of the corner of his eye, unconvinced.
The ship lifted gently off the deck, and quietly hovered its way over to the hangar doors. Moments later, they were careening out into space, on their way back to the Sark System.
Scamp’s voice came over the system. “Ready to engage Gate capabilities when you are, sir.”
Sean sat back in his console chair and smiled again, his slip-up forgotten. “Engage,” he told the EI.
The ship disappeared from the radar of the ArchAngel.
Aboard The Empress, In orbit of Kurilia
“Best thing to do, is listen as much as you can. Tune in while they’re talking to you. Pay attention, not just to what they’re saying, but to how they’re feeling about what they’re saying.” Arlene coached Molly as The Empress came into orbit around Kurilia.
Molly nodded her understanding. “Okay. I’ll try. It’s just… there’s a lot to focus on all at once.”
Arlene smiled sympathetically. “I know. But you can do this.” She glanced over to Joel who was sitting next to Molly. “And Joel is there to help. Lean on him. Let him do the talking so you can observe better. After all,” she scoffed a little, “that’s normally how the Zhyn prefer to play it. Ancestors forbid a woman being in charge!” She chuckled a little, remembering her time with them on a particular sociological expedition.
Joel leaned forward, his arms on his knees. “Yeah. I’ve got this, Mollz. I can do this for you.”
Molly nodded, looking down at her hands. “You realize that the reason we’re here is to make sure that when – not if, but when – we go after that scumbag Shaa, it’ll be sanctioned by his people.” She looked up at Joel. “It’s the only way that we prevent this from causing an all-out war. Remember, we weren’t meant to have been out there in the first place. Officially, he shouldn’t have been found out.”
Joel took a deep breath and sat back in his seat, glancing in the direction of the passage to the cockpit. “Yeah, but he did. And I guess that’s also why the General has bounced this back to us to clean up.”
Molly looked glum. “Probably,” she admitted. “Anyway,” she said, getting up and shooing Joel out of the way, “it’s probably time we move. If we can drop down onto the platform again, we can save Crash some time having to park this thing.”
Joel let her get by, and then stood up himself. “Yeah, all in a day’s work,” he muttered. “Save the boy from getting a parking ticket…”
Paige sniggered.
Paige and Maya had been listening intently to Molly’s coaching session, hoping to glean something new about the realm stuff. Sitting on their knees, leaning over the backs of the chairs in front, they had been able to be involved in the conversation. Now, with Molly gone, Arlene was theirs.
Arlene smiled up at them like a pop star reluctant to get into too deep a conversation with a fan.
Molly had started making her way to the back of the ship. She was passing by Pieter and paused briefly. “Everything looking okay?” she asked.
Pieter gave her a thumbs-up. “Yeah, so far so good. I’ll keep monitoring, but there’s no hint that this is a trap. If I get anything at all, I’ll have Oz relay it to you.”
Molly patted him on the shoulder and kept walking.
Downstairs, Jack was already suited up, and Brock was deploying the frame for them to drop from. As Molly walked in, she saw Jack concealing a weapon in her vest.
“Really?” Molly asked.
Jack shrugged. “Trust but verify,” she said simply, repeating Joel’s words.
He obviously had an influence during her orientation cum indoctrination, Molly figured.
Joel headed over to Jack’s position and took a gun from the rack behind her, doing the same. Molly shook her head.
Next, Joel grabbed a combat vest and tossed it over to her. “You’re at least putting one of these on,” he told Molly definitively. Molly didn’t have the energy to argue. She had more important things to focus on. Obediently, she put the vest on, and then swung down onto the frame.
“Two minutes!” Brock announced.
The others clambered onto the frame. Molly called over to Joel. “So they said they’d have a landing party meet us at the lift?” she confirmed.
Joel nodded.
Just over a minute and a half later, the three of them dropped down onto the platform and watched their ship drift past.
Chapter 6
Capitol Building, Planet Kurilia
Flanked by armed guards, Molly, Joel, and Jack were swept through the Capitol Building.
Are you sure we’re not under arrest or something?
Yes. Certain. There is nothing in their systems or communications that hints you are anything other than honored guests.
Comforting.
Molly glanced to her left at the heavyset Zhyn marching along side her as they made their way through the enormous ornate hall towards a set of double doors. The guard looked straight ahead, ignoring her gaze, but by his side swung a blaster – not dissimilar to the ones she and her team had used on their last visit to the surface.
She glanced to her right to see Joel and Jack looking straight ahead, too. Jack’s jaw was set, but Molly could tell she was in a state of expanded awareness, watching for any hint of a threat… at which point she would likely reach for her concealed weapon. Joel was doing the same, though he was better at pretending to be relaxed.
They reached the door, and the formation of escorts came to a halt. One of the two traditionally dressed guards near the door made a show of acknowledging the convoy, and then opened the door for them to file through. The other guard remained vigilant and unmoving.
Molly followed one of the escorts into the chambers, nearly tripping as the flooring changed from marble to plush red carpet.
“Pick your feet up when you walk,” Joel whispered to her.
Molly glared at him silently, resisting the urge to slap him. The last thing she wanted to do was appear unprofessional as they entered the office of the esteemed emperor of the civilization they were trying to prevent a war with.
Good call, boss. It wouldn’t look so hot.
No kidding.
The guards seem to be waiting for something. Permission perhaps? Or a person to arrive?
A smaller Zhyn female appeared from a small corridor down one side of what appeared to be the main chamber.
“Hello,” she greeted them in Zhyn. Molly heard it in English. She looked across at Joel and Jack, and saw their surprise as their implanted chips worked for the first time. She grinned. It was a weird feeling.
Joel met her eyes with a slight glint of enthusiasm in his, before turning his attention to the lady who was addressing them.
“Greetings,” Joel started on their behalf. His expression shifted in response to his mouth and throat speaking a different language automatically.
Those chips seem to be working like a dream!
Yeah. I don’t think Joel can believe it.
“We were invited to an audience with His Highness, Emperor Kulu”, Joel told her. The guards waited patiently while the small woman moved around to her side of the desk and pulled up her screen. She poked around for a moment, and then stood up again.
“This way, please,” she said, her attention mostly on Joel.
The three followed her to the door with their entourage still in tow. The woman pushed open the doors to the enormous chamber and ushered the guests in. The guards still followed, quickly forming a semi-circle around the group as they made their way forward.
Joel led the way. Jack’s eyes scanned everything, aware of every movement and every warm body in the room. Up ahead, the emperor sat on his throne and another Zhyn, similarly dressed in traditional gowns and robes, hovered by one of the desks laid out in front of the emperor.
The emperor spoke. “Welcome. Welcome, my guests. Please, come forward.”
Joel’s confidence grew and he quickened his pace, making it more purposeful. “Good day to you, Your Highness. We are grateful to accept the invitation to an audience with you.”
“The honor is mine.” The emperor got off his throne and made his way toward the steps off the dais. “This is my trusted advisor, Justicar Beno’or.” He indicated to the man by the desk, who approached the group with his hands clasped. The justicar bowed to them.
Kulu made his way slowly down the stairs. “We have much to discuss. But am I to assume that you were amongst the humans who came onto our planet some weeks ago?”
Molly felt her insides tighten. Though he had refrained from referencing how they bombed the fuck out of their secret bases, there was no getting around the fact.
Joel had started to respond diplomatically, and by that time, the emperor was on the ground level and in front of the group. Molly spontaneously stepped forward. Joel made an automatic grab to pull her back, and her sudden movement also spooked the guards. “Your Highness, yes we were. And I’m sorry for the intrusion. We had reason to believe that the actions of a few were putting your whole world at risk.”
The emperor waved his hand, telling the guards to stand down. He approached Molly and took her hands, looking at her carefully. Molly couldn’t tell if his expression was threatening, or if that was merely his resting face. He inspected her visage in return, as if puzzled.
“Forgive me,” he said eventually. “It’s just I’ve seen pictures of the team who visited, but you humans… you all look the same.”
Molly’s tension evaporated into a laugh. “Yes,” she agreed, “I expect we do.”
The emperor let out a sound that seemed quite involuntary. Molly recoiled a little at first, not knowing if it was anger or something else. When he made no other movement and she heard a similar sound coming from his justicar, she deduced it must be Zhyn laughter.
Molly relaxed a little, and tried to remove her hands from his grasp. He didn’t release her, though.
“But you. I recognize you, with the golden hair,” he told her. “You put your life at risk to help us, when we didn’t even know what was happening within our own military.”
She tried to pull away again, but he resisted. Then something in his eyes changed. A sadness overcame him. A sadness and a softness. “Thank you,” he said to her, looking deep into her soul.
Molly remembered Arlene’s words, and tuned into his feelings. She could see how sad he was about how someone in a trusted position in his empire had misrepresented them to the outside world. He was afraid for his people’s future. He wanted to serve them as best he could, and yet felt he was failing them as a leader. But, he was also grateful. Grateful for these strangers who had shown up to put them back on track.
Molly felt the full weight of his gratitude, and the emotional overwhelm of her own reaction. “You’re… you’re welcome,” she responded, her own voice catching in her throat.
Joel stepped forward, bringing the conversation back into the spoken realm. The emperor released Molly’s hands and allowed her to step back to a more comfortable distance. She turned to include the justicar in the conversation.
“My name is Molly Bates, and this is my team. Joel Dunham,” Joel stepped forward and offered his hand. The emperor didn’t take it, but instead looked at it curiously. Justicar Beno’or made a comment to him, presumably explaining the gesture, and the emperor bowed his head a little in response.
Joel, feeling slightly rejected, dropped his hand and returned the bow. Molly watched and indicated to Jack. “And this is Jack Nolan,” she explained.
Jack, immediately applying what she had just observed, bowed deeply to the emperor, and then to the justicar; both of whom enthusiastically returned her bow.
Looks like Jack is the golden girl.
It does. She’s what one might term a ‘smart cookie.’
“Come, let’s sit and discuss how we might be of assistance to each other,” the justicar suggested, indicating to the array of tables and ornate benches where officials would sit in an audience with the emperor.
The team sat around, taking up a few rows across the narrow aisle, so that all might see each of the players. The emperor even made his way over and perched on the ceremonial desk. Molly deduced from the justicar’s surprise that this was an entirely unusual occurrence.
After some preamble about why they were there, and what had happened since their mission, the group moved on to the key concern.
Molly was the first to raise it. “The thing is, we don’t want to incite a war. And yet, we believe that, unchecked, Shaa will become more of a concern; not just to the Federation, but to your other allies.”
The emperor listened intently, nodding in agreement.
Molly continued to share her solution. “I suggest we find Shaa and put a stop to him. We come to you, Your Highness, because we don’t want our actions to be perceived as an act of war.”
The emperor continued to nod. “You can be assured of our full support. Only there is something we must make clear.” He made eye contact with the justicar who took over the explanation.
“Shaa is still seen as a war hero in some parts of the empire. As the leadership, we can’t be seen going after him. To extradite him is one thing; his supporters can always believe that it was his choice. In fact, I have word that this is what his propaganda is saying. However, it would divide our people if we were to actively pursue him.”
He looked back at the emperor and then lowered his eyes. Emperor Kulu delivered the bottom line, looking at each team member in turn. “It’s up to you. You, Molly Bates, and your hidden team of warriors, must solve this problem from the shadows. We support you, but this cannot be traced back to us. To know that we sanctioned it will divide our citizens, and this we cannot bear – despite the dishonor this man has brought on us.”
Molly nodded her understanding and looked down at the floor, processing the implications. “Yes, Your Highness. I understand. We will be discrete.”
The meeting continued for a few minutes more as the justicar delivered additional intel that might help them in finding the location of Shaa.
“I can have the maps sent to you on your device, but it may take a few days for our systems’ engineers to code it to your language,” he offered.
Okay, Oz, how do we get around this one?
Tell him to send the encrypted file in the base code, and we’ll figure it out.
Then they’ll know we’ve cracked their code.
Oz didn’t respond.
Molly had an idea. “Perhaps you might show me the map, rather than send it? I have a good memory, and we can read the coordinates off and then reproduce a representation when we get back to our ship.”
Beno’or seemed surprised at her apparent ability, but satisfied that this would solve their problem. He pulled up the hologram of the information he was going to send.
You getting this, Oz?
Yep. Every pixel of it.
My eyes don’t encode in pixels.
No, but my processors do, and that’s what’s capturing what you’re seeing.
Molly rolled her eyes.
Hey! Eyes on the map, genius.
Molly snapped her eyes back to the map where she had left off, and continued the scan.
Minutes later, the task was accomplished, and Joel and the emperor had somehow managed to bond; though Molly completely missed what had happened.
They started saying their goodbyes.
The emperor patted Joel on the back. “Thank you, Molly Bates, Joel Dunham, and Jack Nolan. Our empire is honored to have friends such as you.”
The three of them bowed, and received respectful bows back from both Emperor Kulu and the justicar.
Justicar Beno’or then led the group back through the hall, and out of the office with the red carpet. The entourage, who had been hovering at a respectful distance during the meeting, seemed a little more relaxed with their visitors, given how their leader had treated them.
As they were escorted back out of the double doors and out into the enormous hall that was the Capitol Building, there was much more ease about the situation.
* * *
As the team approached the skylift, they bid farewell to their guards, who were almost pleasant in their sendoff. Once within the private confines of the lift, Jack finally spoke.
“So, are we concerned that he might be hanging us out to dry, if we keep quiet the fact that he endorsed this?”
Joel glanced over at her, leaning against the bar that encircled the compartment.
Jack stood just as alert as she had been, clearly keeping her awareness on the sounds around the lift, and the speed at which they were traveling. Molly noticed that there was never a moment when the woman was not a professional, taking her role seriously.
Molly turned to look directly at her. “You make a great point,” she commented, thinking through the implications.
Jack could read Molly’s face just as easily as Molly could now read other people’s emotions. “But…?” Jack prompted.
Molly shook her head. “I don’t think so. His intentions at the time were honorable.”
Joel and Jack looked at each other, surprised that Molly actually had an opinion about someone’s unspoken intentions.
Joel shrugged. “Okay. So then we assume he’s sincere, and press on finding Shaa.” He looked at Molly. “Does Oz think that the intel he shared will be useful?”
The lift seemed to be coming to a stop at the top of the shaft. She nodded. “Yeah. It will certainly help narrow things down,” she told him.
Jack had clicked on the quantum comm on her wrist and was typing on her holo. The lift doors opened. “Ok,” she told the other two. “The Empress will be passing overhead in three minutes. Looks like we timed this well.”
The three teammates stepped out of the lift and onto the platform, scanning the sky for their ride.
Aboard The Scamp Princess, On approach to Teshov
Giles leaned forward in his seat, straining to see the detail on the planet that they were approaching.
Sean was busy flicking switches and making adjustments on the ship. “Scamp, take us in on warp. And stay on high alert; this can be a hostile area.”
“Yes, sir,” Scamp confirmed.
The trip was coming to a close, and, having navigated into orbit, and then through the atmosphere, The Scamp Princess touched down gently on the surface about a mile from what looked like a settlement.
Sean looked over at Giles with a slight smirk. “Nervous?” he asked, half having a dig.
Giles nodded and removed his glasses, cleaning them with a cloth from his suit, and shoving them into an inside pocket. “A little,” he confessed. During the trip, he had replaced his tweed jacket with a modern atmosuit. He looked younger. Much younger, in fact; and now, without the glasses…
Sean frowned. “You don’t need those, do you?” he asked, pointing at the glasses that had just been tucked away.
Giles shook his head, a little embarrassed. “’Course not. In a society that has nanocytes and nanobots, why would anyone need to wear corrective lenses?”
Sean’s frowned deepened. “Well, then, why…” His voice trailed off and he shook his head as he realized that he didn’t have time for this kind of question.
Giles waved his hand dismissively. “Quite,” he said, agreeing with Sean’s unspoken sentiment.
They unbuckled and scrambled from their seats, heading through the ship to exit via the back door.
Sean was the first down the ramp, and was holding a lightweight blaster at the ready. Giles cautiously followed him down, half of his attention on where he was stepping, and half his attention on the scene opening up in front of him. All he could see was sand; until he reached the bottom of the ramp, at which point, he could also see the sky – dull red higher up, and deep blue on the horizon.
He breathed in the atmosphere, and was instantly transported back to the time when he lived here. The scent of the sand and the burning of fossil fuels in the settlements reminded him not just of the primitive lifestyle, but of the base attitude of the ruling class toward the toxins they would freely place into the air that the settlers would breathe.
He realized instantly he hadn’t missed his time here one bit.
Sean tugged at his suit jacket, opening up the asymmetric flap to expose some of his undershirt to the air, trying to cool himself down. The dryness in the atmosphere became quickly evident in his lungs as he tried to breathe normally.
“I forget how dry it gets out here,” he commented to Giles.
Giles adjusted his suit, too, and they started trudging through the sand, back around to the other side of the ship, ready to head toward the settlement. “You’ve been here before?” he asked, trying to play down his curiosity about this mysterious cyborg marine.
Sean grunted. “Yeah. Many times,” he confirmed. He turned to access the projected holo panel that was several feet away from the actual ship. He poked around in the controls, and the ramp closed itself up.
Giles watched for a moment before deciding to get a head start on the walk. Sean soon caught up, and the two men made their way across the arid sandy hell.
Onboard The Empress
Crash rejoined the group. “Okay, we’re stationary!” he announced. Brock glanced up at him, his eyes alight with sarcasm.
Crash looked shifty, his confidence dropping under Brock’s weighted gaze. “Well,” Crash qualified, “as stationary as one can be in space, with no reference points… and no resistance.”
Brock made a silly face and turned his attention back to the assembled group.
Molly was perched on the arm of an anti grav chair, and many of the other chairs in the immediate vicinity had been turned around and moved into positions to allow the whole team, and Arlene, to be a part of the briefing. Crash plunked himself down in the far corner near the window, where he was able to see everyone else’s reaction without having to really get too involved. He blamed tiredness from flying for his antisocial mood, but the truth was he was mostly just antisocial these days.
Molly pulled up the map that Oz had scanned from the visit with the emperor, and indicated at the target points. “These are the bases that the Zhyn have deduced may be possible locations that Shaa was using,” she explained. “He may have been planning this for several decades; those points represent places where he sanctioned activity - shipments and the like - which weren’t known locations for the empire.”
The group watched intently.
Molly nodded to Pieter, who was sitting in the front row and typing furiously on his holo. He looked up. “Ah, right,” he said, responding to her cue.
He shifted in his chair to address as much of the group as possible from where he sat. “So, it seems,” he began, turning his attention back to his holo, briefly, to hit a key and project an overlay onto Molly’s map, “that there are a few locations that this signal could be coming from. Not because there are multiple points of origin, but because Shaa has used some kind of fragmenter to break up any signals that are emerging from the base. It’s kinda like where gravity bends light, and makes distant stars look like they’re in entirely different positions from where they are, because the only thing one can do is track back in a straight line.”
Joel was frowning, but it looked like most of the rest of the crew were following. Or at least pretending to follow.
Pieter continued. “So, taking this into account, I’ve fiddled with some common parameters to try and lock down an actual position.” He stood up and waved a hand around in a circle encompassing a couple of the points that the Zhyns’ map gave them. “This puts his position somewhere in this area.”
Jack leaned forward over crossed legs. “Can’t we narrow it down any further?” she asked.
Pieter nodded once. “Oz?”
Oz’s voice came over the speakers in the cabin. “Yes and no. We can’t know for certain without some other input, more data. But from what we know, we can assume with 77 percent accuracy that it is likely this one.” At that moment, one of the already pinpointed locations was highlighted in yellow.
Jack tilted her head. “And if we’re wrong?”
Molly’s eyes defocused, clearly in listening mode. Oz’s voice came over the speaker again. “Then we try the second most likely location,” he told them.
Jack sat back in her chair, catching Paige’s eye. Paige could tell she wasn’t satisfied, but ignored it and turned her attention back to the briefing.
Molly un-perched herself, putting her weight on her feet and straightening up. “So, given this is our target, we can probably assume that there are defenses. We’ll need a plan to be able to get in and out without getting blown up by his penchant for anti-spacecraft guns.”
Pieter sat back down, and swung his chair around to look at Molly. “Any idea on the likely range he has on those things?”
Molly pulled her lips to one side and looked over at Joel.
Joel stood against the wall where the screens were being projected. He took a deep breath and unfolded his arms. “Well,” he started slowly, “it’s a guess; but from what we’ve seen on the intel that Maya and Paige gathered from their databases, the Zhyn generally prefer the tech that picks off spacecraft as they come into orbit. There are reasons for this, I suppose. They have developed skylifts, and I guess that orbital area is their most sensitive, and where the most traffic is – most of the time. That means that’s where their awareness is. It perhaps won’t have even occurred to them seriously that a ship may land. Or may attack from further away.”
Jack piped up again. “Can we tell anything from the kit Shaa has been requisitioning?”
Molly nodded to Maya, who had her holo up and was already poking through the data they had collected. Maya shook her head, her mouth downturned. “Nope. It’s not the kind of thing he would have put through official channels,” she relayed. She paused and scratched her head. “I dunno where we’d get that kind of data. I mean, if it were Estaria or Ogg, I’d have some inkling of where to start poking around; but this… it’s just so alien.”
Molly shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Okay, then,” she decided. “It looks like the best course of action is to assume they’re heavily armed with a focus on anything that pops into orbit. Given that, we need a plan of attack that will allow us to take him out, and not put us in mortal danger.” She paused, looking at the group. “Suggestions?”
The team sat in contemplative silence for a moment, and then Joel raised his hand.
* * *
Two hours later, after much back and forth, the meeting was wrapped up with a plan of action in place. They had a few hours to rest while they returned to the base to pick up some supplies, and then they would turn around and go out to the most likely location of Shaa’s base.
A strange tension hung in the air as the team tried to get some rest while in transit to one of the most harebrained operations they had ever undertaken.
Chom-X9, War Room
Shaa paced the length of his War Room, almost ignoring the presence of his guests. His eyes fixed on a point on the wall straight ahead as he continued to deliver his rhetoric to his captive audience.
“Our goal, gentlemen, is to incite unrest, and garner as many allies as possible. This will not be hard, given the immense threat that the Federation poses to all life in the galaxy.”
He continued to pace the long, windowless, metal-walled room. Twenty four guests sat around the functional, no-frills conference table. Some were the same race, but from different worlds. Others shared little more than an interest in keeping out of the Federation’s way. All had been hand-selected by Shaa long before his exile, and represented a who’s who of the local galaxy.
As Shaa walked, the guests turned their heads, tracking his motion. Those who had their back to him displayed signs of unease when he passed closely behind them.
“It has been a concern for many generations now, that as we thrive as individuals, we become more and more of a threat to the Federation,” Shaa told them. “The Federation’s only desire is to control, to further their own agenda. They dress it up as diplomacy, and wanting to make life better to all who come into the fold; but they dangle this utopia in front of all their potential enemies as a way of creating a docile following.”
He paused, reaching the end of the room, and turned on his heels to face the assembly. “But the Zhyn people have stood firm. What you see on this base is a demonstration that we will no longer be placated by empty words and promises. The Zhyn are proud. We’re strong,” he said, now slamming his fist into the palm of his other hand. “And together with our brothers in arms, we will all remain strong and proud, separate from the oppressors.” His voice reached a crescendo, and he paused, looking now at those he could make eye contact with. He held a few individuals’ gazes for a moment before continuing his point.
“But we can’t do it alone,” he concluded more quietly now. “We must unite.”
There was an awkward shuffle from one of the guests. A Yollin from the upper caste seemed to have made it onto Shaa’s short list of people likely to follow him. The Yollin started to speak, inaudibly at first.
Shaa spun around to see who might interrupt him. The Yollin tried again, finding his voice. “Your Highness,” he started, disregarding that Shaa had been stripped of his rank and status when he was exiled. “Our fear is that we are no match for the Federation’s forces. We have only ever had the choice of falling in line, or suffering the consequences. At least if we don’t take up arms, we can make the pretense that we are toeing the line.”
Shaa’s lip curled in contempt, and the unnamed Yollin recoiled. Shaa spoke, his voice stronger, more certain, than the Yollin’s. “This is true. But it is also weak. And where has it led you?” he exclaimed, referring to the fact that the Yollins were already absorbed into the Federation.
Shaa turned from the dissenting Yollin, and addressed the others present. “And how long before you need to pledge your allegiance with more than just signing an agreement?” he demanded. “How long before your troops are committed to their cause? Your sons and daughters sent to fight their siblings because the Federation says so? In the same way that our Yollin friend has become subjugated.”
There was some more awkward shifting around the table. Many of the guests dropped their eyes to the table in an attempt to avoid being pulled into responding. One official, looking Noel-ni, readjusted his position, and made a strange barking sound, like a cough. He carefully turned his head from Shaa’s direction to avoid it being misinterpreted as communication.
Shaa’s eyes flicked in his direction, but seemed to become distracted by his own internal dialog. “No, something must be done. And there is a plan already in place.”
Shaa poked at a panel on the wall, and a holo opened in the center of the conference table. “How many times has the Federation thwarted your plans by imposing trade sanctions, or keeping your ships from moving through controlled areas of space?”
Shaa looked from the hologram to a Cubert standing just opposite his current line of sight. His chair was pushed back, allowing him to stand upright at the table, bringing him to the same height as the others. The Cubert twitched uncomfortably, but held Shaa’s gaze.
Shaa continued. “How many times have they intervened in your affairs, preventing you from making profit in your own system?” He looked to the dignified-looking Yaree sitting next to him, who immediately shifted his eyes down, respectfully. Shaa was unperturbed. “Well I say ‘no more’. We have already embarked upon a series of campaigns to take out not their whole armada, but strategic targets.”
Shaa set about pacing again, his voice filling the room and the heads of his compatriots. “To begin with, we will indeed be nothing but a thorn in their enormous side; but eventually, with continued support and persistence across all opposing nations, we can make a stand.” He paused his pacing and turned back to the group. His voice was determined. “We will make a change. We will prevail.”
He moved the holoscreen on through his prepared presentation. “Take this case for consideration. This is the QBS Tornado. Just a run-of-the-mill personnel carrier; but when the Federation heard of the situation with our friends, the Leath, they decided to intervene, and kidnapped the workers who we were negotiating with. As we speak, our fighters are on their way to correct the situation, and redress the balance of power in the negotiations to meet our brothers’ demands.”
The holo ran a simulation of the passenger ship being destroyed by Zhyn fighters; fighters that Shaa controlled.
The room fell deathly silent as the onlookers watched the demonstration of power in horror.
Chapter 7
Ansan Settlement, Northern Province, Teshov
The settlement was quiet. There were hints of life here and there: water catchment devices, covered over with newly disturbed sand; the odd scuffling at a window; a door suddenly closing quietly, just out of the corner of one’s eye.
Giles and Sean made their way through the myriad of makeshift mud huts, keeping their eyes peeled for any signs of danger.
A snake shifted its way across their path, and disappeared behind a building.
Sean looked to Giles. “Suppose that’s an omen?”
Giles shook his head. “You’ve been watching too many Indiana Jones movies. That was just an angoma. Native to this region – and a delicacy, I believe,” he added humorously.
Sean frowned. “Aren’t you the mythology guy, though? The one who sees patterns in coincidences, and spends his time bumming around the galaxy, sampling different religions?”
Giles smiled, still scanning the area carefully. “So you have heard of me, then?”
Sean ignored the comment and kept walking.
Giles seemed to have found his bearings. “This way,” he announced suddenly, starting off in a slightly different direction through the cluster of habitations. Sean took off after him, quickening his pace, and trying not to make so much noise as he pounded across the slightly more solid sand that was underfoot.
Giles slowed when he came across the hut he had been looking for. “This is it,” he mouthed quietly.
There was the bang of a door behind them. Both men jumped and turned. They waited, Sean with his weapon raised. Nothing moved. They turned back to the hut only to see movement behind the fiberglass window. Sean motioned for Giles to go ahead, and indicated that he’d cover him from behind.
Giles edged forward, and then, making up his mind that he just needed to do this, he strode up to the door. He raised his hand and gently rapped on the wooden paneling.
There was movement inside, but no response.
He knocked again. “It’s Giles. Giles Kurns. I’m looking for Robin.”
There was a scuffling behind the door, and Giles took half a step back. The door handle turned, opening the door a crack. Giles tried to peer into the darkness, and, as his eyes adjusted, there was a flicker of recognition. He turned and signaled Sean to come over, and heard Sean traipsing up behind him as he turned back to face the door.
“Greetings, Robin. Long time…” he said carefully, trying to gauge how he was being received.
The door opened a little more to reveal a rather tired looking Estarian. Clearly, he’d seen better days and was unsuited to the climate or the lifestyle here. And yet, he had the air of someone who was fated to live like this; like he was used to it, but had memories of a place, of a life, that was far removed from here.
“Giles!” he exclaimed quietly, almost congenially.
Sean lowered his weapon.
Giles turned to introduce Sean. “This is my associate, Sean Roya-”
Giles glanced back at the Estarian, to see him holding a pistol trained on Sean. “Robin, it’s okay! He’s with me.”
A ferocity gathered on his face like a storm. “The hell he is. He and his little team are the reason I’m back in this fucking hellhole.”
Giles looked confused. And terrified.
Sean remained motionless, but pointing his blaster at the Estarian in the doorway.
“Guys!” Giles interrupted, his hands out, shaking and palms down. “We don’t need to do this. Let’s just go inside and talk.”
The Estarian twitched. Sean didn’t hesitate.
BAM.
Sean shot him.
The blaster propelled the Estarian back inside the hut, the sound ringing out through the settlement. There was a scurry of unseen activity in the neighboring huts, and hushed, panicked whispers.
Giles shook his head at Sean, mortified. “Shit, Royale.”
Giles pushed his way through the doorway to find his friend on the floor. He squatted down to help him, realizing with some relief that he was still alive. He reached for the wound on the Estarian’s left shoulder, trying to stop the bleeding. He was so preoccupied, he didn’t see Robin raise his other hand with the pistol in it.
There was another shot from the blaster, and the Estarian’s entire left arm disappeared in a bloody mess.
Giles jumped back, shocked and splattered with blood. It took several moments for the ripple of horror to leave his body, allowing him to process what had just happened.
Gathering his wits, he turned to see Sean inside the doorway, holding his blaster. “The fuck?!” Giles shouted back at Royale.
Sean shrugged. “He was going to shoot me. I had to stop him. Plus,” he flicked a switch on the weapon and put the safety on, “he’s a wanted criminal in the Inner System. He goes by several names; one of which is ‘Mac Kerr’. His crimes were horrendous.”
Giles felt sick to his stomach and was still in shock, trying to absorb what had just happened. He had blood on his hands, and though he had been intent on stopping the bleeding, it was now a null task.
He scrambled up from his spot next to the dismembered body. “You’re an asshole,” he growled as he got to his feet. “That was my friend,” he said, pointing, stepping around the body to move further into the hut.
Sean rolled his eyes. “You mean, your ‘frenemy’?” he corrected, watching Giles disappear into another section of the hut.
Giles now moved quickly and with purpose. He first went to the kitchen and started washing the blood from his hands and face. Then he wiped down his atmosuit jacket and tidied himself up.
Next, he started searching through the rest of the hut, intent on finding the prize they had come for. “You gonna help me look or just stand there?” he shot across to Sean, who had pulled the body further into the hut, and closed the door. Sean looked out of the window, checking for any signs of life.
“Sure,” he responded. “But we don’t have long. That was two shots fired. I’m pretty sure it’s only a matter of time before the locals or the heavies get wind of the news, and come to even the score.”
Giles pulled his head out of a cubbyhole in the wall. “I’ll say,” he agreed, putting his hand inside and feeling around for a switch or a trap door, anything that might give away where the amulet was being held.
“Shit,” he exclaimed, sitting back on his haunches. “Robin was the only one who knew where the damn talisman is.”
Sean shook his head as he searched the surfaces and cubbyholes built into the mud hut. “You’re delusional if you honestly think that someone who tried to have you killed was going to just hand over something that you traveled across the galaxy to retrieve.”
Sean kept his eyes scanning and his hands moving, checking deftly and professionally, just as Giles had been doing. His blaster tapped against the back of his legs every now and again as it lay strung over his back, ready for action at the slightest sound of a threat.
Giles scowled in Sean’s direction. “You don’t know that. And now we’ll never know,” he added poignantly. He slumped back against the cubby he had just been searching, his legs outstretched in front of him. “We’re fucked. That was our only fucking lead.”
Sean ignored the sentiment and kept searching.
Gaitune-67, Hangar Deck
The Empress was ready to leave the hangar deck, locked and loaded. The normal air of camaraderie and excitement had been replaced with a general anxiety about the impending mission.
Maya had sat next to Jack upon boarding, feeling that she needed something to take her mind off what she was about to do.
Jack had appreciated the company, but wasn’t about to get into a girly heart-to-heart about life regrets and shit. That just wasn’t how she executed missions. Eyes on the prize, she told herself as the engines fired up and the remaining team members scuffled to take their seats and buckle up.
“You ready for this?” Maya asked sympathetically.
Jack frowned and nodded once. “Of course. This is what I’ve been trained for. This is what we do.”
Maya trained her eyes straight ahead of her, conscious not to push it. Jack was strong. And proud.
And the last person she wanted to piss off.
Paige glanced over to her from the other side of the cabin where she sat with Pieter. She smiled weakly, understanding what Maya was trying to do.
Crash’s voice came over the intercom. “A warm welcome back to our frequent flyers. Today, you have qualified for platinum status; the prize for which is an all-expenses-paid trip to the ass-end of nowhere, where you will be invited to bomb the fuck out of a rogue space terrorist. If you would like to decline this option, please talk to your flight attendant now. Otherwise, sit back, relax, and enjoy the rest of the trip. Your planet thanks you for your service.”
There were a few giggles and chuckles at the announcement, and The Empress lifted up off the deck.
In the cockpit, Brock was concentrating hard, listening to the ship as she took off. “You can feel the extra weight, can’t you?” he said to Crash, his eyes darting over to gauge Crash’s reaction.
Crash nodded.
Emma’s voice filled the cockpit. “I can indeed. Though I understand that gentlemen should not comment on a lady’s weight. Ever.”
Brock chuckled. “When did you get a sense of humor?” he asked her.
“Boy, I’ve had a sense of humor since before you were born!” she retorted.
Brock shook his head gently as he pulled at his harness, checking it was secure. “But seriously,” he persisted, concern playing around his eyes. “Is this extra weight going to be an issue?”
Emma flicked on her video feed on his console. She shook her computer-generated head. “Nope. It’s an extra strain on take off, but once we’re moving, we’ll be fine. We just need to take it into account when we come out of warp, as we’ll have a little extra momentum.”
Crash was intently focused on his console and taking The Empress out of the hanger. He didn’t show any signs of even hearing the conversation.
Brock needed to make sure it was handled, though. He frowned and leaned forward, toward her video image. “So, you’re doing all those calcs and stuff, so that he doesn’t have to, right?” He thumbed over in Crash’s direction.
Emma nodded. “You bet your sweet ass I am!” she told him.
Brock’s shoulders dropped as he relaxed and sat back in his seat. “Well, okay, then,” he surrendered.
Aboard The Empress, Near Chom-X9
Within half an hour, they were pulling out of warp, the teams each in position.
Joel looked over at Jack. “You sure you want to do this?” he checked with her.
She glanced back at him. “Bit late for second thoughts now,” she smiled nervously underneath the bravado.
Joel adjusted his seating position awkwardly. “Well, that’s probably true,” he agreed.
Emma came on over The Little Empress’s intercom. “Okay, boys and girls, we’re out of warp. Dock doors opening. Please start your engines, and be ready to reverse out slowly. And I mean slowly. No showing off.”
Joel and Jack flicked immediately into ops mode. Jack set a bunch of switches, and Joel checked his instruments before starting the engine of The Little Empress. Both their faces were expressionless.
Joel’s hand hesitated over a holocontrol.“Do we have permission to fire as soon as we get a clear shot?” he checked with Emma.
“Affirmative,” she responded. “You’re cleared to engage at will. This is your op until we collect you. Leave the comms open; I’ll be on the link for both ships to coordinate.”
A moment later, The Little Empress reversed out of the dock of The Empress, a baby spaceship being birthed from its mother.
Jack’s expression turned stern. “Weapons online and locked on target,” she confirmed. “Approximate distance from target, 8300km.”
Joel checked a couple of dials, and straightened up as he watched The Empress pull away and then disappear into thin air. “We’re on our own now,” he said, the feeling of dread behind his words hanging suspended in the air.
“Let’s do this,” he added, trying to disperse the spell he had just cast with his idle comment.
Chom-X9, War Room
Former-Lord High Marshall Shaa had taken a seat at the head of the table in the only console chair in the room. He sat back, arrogant about the power he held, almost daring someone in the room to challenge him.
It was true. This was a recruiting mission; a drive to bring investors and allies on board. But to show weakness or any hint of it being an equal partnership right now, in these early stages, was to set the stage for discontent later.
No. Better to show them who’s pulling the strings upfront. Then they’ll be under no illusions as to how this will to play out.
“Allow me to share something else,” Shaa said, changing the direction of his discourse. “As you are probably aware, I have long been an advocate of staying ahead of the technology curve. When I ruled the Zhyn Empire, I had the foresight to develop a new computing language that would remain a secret from the Federation. It allowed us to conduct our business in private, as well as fortified us against their cyber intrusions.”
He pulled up another screen for them. All eyes in the room moved from Shaa to the new hologram appearing in the center of the table.
“Today, you are witnessing an extension of the commitment we made to stay ahead of the curve. The base has just been alerted, through traditional radar means, of a ship that has entered into our space. However, we were aware many minutes ago that this ship was on its way, via our advanced early warning system. Now we have confirmation of its presence, we are adequately prepared to defend ourselves.”
Silence fell on the room as Shaa shifted forward to perch in his seat. He drew a deep breath, admiring the image onscreen of the ship that had just made it into their firing range.
The voice of the Yaree off to his right interrupted his thoughts. “But how do they even know you’re here? We thought this place was off-grid?”
Shaa didn’t answer the inquiry. He didn’t even glance up to acknowledge the questioner. Instead, he connected his holo with the control room. “Lock on!” he instructed.
The control room came on over the conference room audio feed. “Locked on, sir.”
“Fire!” came the order from Shaa.
The guests watched intently, acutely aware that they were no longer watching a simulation, but a real feed of anti-spacecraft guns firing upward into the orbit of the planet, at the ship that had just appeared.
Shaa looked very satisfied with himself. “This literally is the case of ‘forearmed is forewarned’.” He chuckled at his own joke, oblivious to the horror in the eyes of those watching from around the table.
Aboard The Little Empress
Joel moved the stick forward to take The Little Empress further in. “How are you doing getting a lock on something useful there?” he asked, not taking his eyes from the console.
Jack hesitated. “I’m… Okay. I’ve got something. Looks like a cluster of buildings surrounded by weaponry. It’s probably - ”
At that moment, the computer picked up some anti-aircraft radiation signatures.
“Scratch that. It’s definitely hot. Locked on, firing.”
Two seconds later, missiles left the armaments on the sides of The Little Empress, and navigated their way down to the surface.
Joel pulled the stick to the right, banking the ship on its approach. Jack flicked a second switch on her joystick and deployed the decoys to draw fire, just as Sean had taught her on her first outing in The Little Empress.
“How are we doing?” Joel asked.
Jack paused before responding. “They’re taking to the decoys. We’re okay,” she confirmed.
Suddenly, there was a loud, deep bang. The ship vibrated through the hull from the shock. Joel felt their trajectory being altered and felt the resistance on the stick, even despite the minimal atmosphere they were encountering.
“What the - ” he started.
Chom-X9, War Room
Shaa was marveling at the destruction unfolding on the holoscreen. In a matter of moments, the puny ship that was taking fire from his superior armaments would disappear from the screen completely.
There was a beep at the door, pulling Shaa’s attention from the screen. His guests, however, seemed somewhat relieved at the interruption.
“Come,” he called. The door slid open, mechanically whirring on its heavy iron innards. One of Shaa’s soldiers appeared and stepped purposefully into the room. Without further invitation, he made his way straight to his master.
Shaa didn’t look at the Zhyn; he regarded him merely as part of the functioning of his operation, like a butler in a house where the staff moves unseen and unacknowledged until their message becomes relevant.
The man whispered in Shaa’s ear, and then took a pace back, awaiting a decision.
Shaa raised his eyes from the screen, contemplating the new information. A second later, he rose from his seat and addressed the assembled delegates.
“Gentlemen, it seems we have a second craft appearing on the other side of our little planet.”
As if on cue, the ship appeared on their live feed. Shaa continued. “At this point, I know you would normally like to join the fight, but, all things considered, it would be prudent for you to leave now.”
There was muttering and a flurry of subdued motion amongst the people around the table.
Shaa continued to relay his instructions without pausing. “Sergeant, have our guests escorted to their ships so they can get away from here. Gentlemen, get a safe distance away as quickly as you can. It is best you are not caught here, or known to have been here. Tell no one of our discussions or what you have seen here today. I will be in touch.”
The guests around the table found their way to their feet and then to the door, looking back only to ensure that their escort was following them. A mix of fear and confusion mulled around them as they ushered each other along the corridor. The sergeant clicked his heels and saluted Shaa before attending to his gaggle of charges.
Shaa nodded his dismissal and then turned his attention back to the screen. Once the doors to the conference room closed, he hit his holo, connecting him to the control room. “Report!” he demanded.
Aboard The Empress
“Sit rep?” Molly prompted from her console in the cockpit.
Crash checked the visual, and then the console. “We’re okay. We’re about five thousand kilometers out; within target range, and probably as close as we can get without materializing into the planet.”
Molly nodded. “Okay. Engage as soon as we get a lock on.”
A moment later, two missiles left the bottom of the ship and streamed their way to the surface of the moon.
Molly watched, trying to see if there was any discernible difference in the visual. “Did we get the target?”
Pieter shook his head. “It hit, but there are three other anti-aircraft weapons locked onto us. He must have distributed them all over the surface. We need to get closer to see what’s happening.”
The visual showing the other side of the planet suddenly lit up.
Molly’s forehead tensed in anxiety. “Emma, whose lights are those? Is that The Little Empress firing?”
Emma’s voice came through on the cockpit intercom. “The Little Empress is firing, but those aren’t her missiles. Those are coming from the surface.”
Molly felt her stomach lurch. “How are her shields doing?”
Emma reported. “She’s been compromised. Shields at fifty percent.”
Molly was on her feet, her hands gripping the console on the arm of the chair. “Shit. Tell them to abort. Get them out to five kilometers. We’ll pick them up.”
Crash looked instantly nervous. “There’s no way we can gate in that close to them; not without risking colliding with them. Or worse.”
Molly had visions of the Tardis landing around them - or the Tardis landing within the ship - and realized that she really should only concern herself with reality in these moments of high stakes. She shook the thought from her head.
“What other options do we have?” she pressed.
“We could warp over there,” Crash suggested.
Molly shook her head. “We’ll be drawing even more fire.” She paused. “Oz, ideas?”
The optimum solution is for Emma to pull them out to a safe distance while we gate to a safe distance from them, further out of Shaa’s range. Then we can travel in to collect them the same way we we did the drop-off.
Molly nodded, not entirely satisfied, but ready to make a move. “Okay. Let’s do that. Crash, make the jump the second we’ve set the course.”
Crash nodded. “Acknowledged,” he said, setting up the coordinates.
Aboard The Little Empress
There was another bang, and this time the ship was knocked upward. The planet below disappeared from view as they tipped backwards into space.
Jack poked at her console. “We’ve been hit. I don’t know what happened.” She replayed the camera from beneath the ship. “Looks like their missiles split when they reach a certain height. We’ve been hit by two of them.”
Joel tried to retrieve control of the ship. “Emma, if you’re there, a little help would be great.”
“Joel, I’m here. Molly’s orders are to retreat. I can get you stabilized, just hang tight. This is going to take a few minutes. The ship will continue to rotate for a while longer; I hope you don’t get spacesick…”
Joel glanced over at Jack. Jack shook her head and smiled nervously. “We’ll be okay. Thanks, Emma. Glad you’ve got us.”
The next several minutes were the longest minutes of Jack’s life. Despite knowing Emma was working to get them stabilized, they had little bearing on which direction the surface missiles were coming from. That meant they had a smaller chance of being able to counter them, let alone get out of the way.
Jack continued to focus on the task, though. “I’m laying down decoys to see if we can avoid taking another hit. Shields are at forty three percent,” she reported.
Joel continued working furiously to find a way to help them regain control, simultaneously racking his brain as to what he could do once Emma got them out of the spin.
Chom-X9, Control room
Shaa stormed into the control room. Glancing at the hangar deck monitor as he entered, he noticed the group of his would-be associates making their way hurriedly to their various spacecraft. Unless more combatants showed up, they would likely get away without drawing any attention; particularly if they followed the emergency flight path his team had already figured out for such a purpose.
Shaa’s attention moved to the main screen showing the two ships attacking from different directions. “Fools,” he grunted out loud. “They think they can waltz into battle with me and win? Who do they think they’re fighting against? Some half-baked cocksucker?”
There was a titter of activity and agreement amongst the personnel manning the control room. Six defected Zhyns worked furiously to coordinate their defenses around their 500-km-radius rogue moon.
“Your Highness,” one of them announced. “We’re receiving reports that some of our anti-spacecraft weapons have been destroyed.”
Shaa felt the frustration rising in his chest. “Onscreen!” he commanded.
The secondary holoscreen lit up, displaying visuals of one of the anti-space gun towers, half destroyed and billowing black smoke. A moment later, it flicked to give a different angle showing a small fire. Then it switched showing a different tower in another location, this time surrounded by thorny vegetation.
“Switch to firing from the poles,” Shaa commanded. “Something tells me they would rather withdraw than risk their own deaths.”
The Zhyn responsible nodded and then relayed the order to the operations deck.
Aboard The Empress Actual
“Gate complete,” Crash announced, immediately pushing the ship forward in the direction of The Little Empress.
Emma’s voice interceded. “I’ll have them stabilized from their rotation in another thirty seconds. I’ll plot a course to pull them around. Better them maneuver around you this time, despite the risk to their shields.”
Molly frowned and stood up, looking over the consoles that Brock and Crash were working on. “Anything we can do to protect them from here?”
Brock raised his hand. “Yes! Maybe…” He poked at the console some more, and then suddenly fist pumped the air. “We can extend our shields to include them. It will take a lot more power, and we’ll have to drop them to bring them up at a different distance, meaning we’ll be-”
“Do it,” Molly ordered without hesitation or needing to hear any more.
Brock busied himself with the task as they drew closer.
A rally of missiles suddenly launched from the planet, heading straight for The Empress and The Little Empress.
Molly’s mouth dropped open. “Holy mother of fuck…”
Chapter 8
Ansan Settlement, Northern Province, Teshov
The whole hut had been searched, top-to-bottom and then bottom-to-top. There was one more place Sean hadn’t looked, and he disappeared from Giles’s awareness. He came back several minutes later.
“Not on the body, either,” he reported.
There was movement outside the window. “We’re going to have to move,” he told Giles. “We’re not safe here.”
Giles was displaying signs of shock: pale complexion, catatonia. Sean marched over to him.
“Don’t make me bitch-slap you, soldier. We have to move. NOW!” he barked.
Giles came back to his senses as if woken from a dream. He rubbed his face with one hand and scrambled to his feet. Sean helped him up, glad that he wasn’t actually going to have to slap some sense into him and then explain a shiner to the others when they got back to base.
The two started for the door.
Giles finally noticed the blood that had splattered all over the walls, just inside the hut. He shook his head and stopped. Sean had his blaster in-hand, ready to open the door for them to make their move. He glanced back at Giles. “Ready?” he asked.
Giles shook his head. “No.” He paused, scratching behind his ear. “There’s… there’s somewhere else we can try before we go back to the ship.”
Sean glanced nervously at the door, straining to hear if there was anyone on the other side. “We’re going to be drawing some heat, you realize that?”
Giles took a step back, and then turned deeper into the hut. “There’s another way out. We need to go in this direction, anyway,” he called back.
Sean followed him through the little hut to another door that they had missed when they conducted their search. Giles opened it, carefully checking out of the window, and then stood back to let Sean conduct a proper visual and lead the way.
Sean stepped out first. The area behind the hut was quite different; like a back alley, without an alley actually having been constructed. There were the backs of a few other huts, and an area for various forms of waste. It smelled. Really bad.
Sean ventured further out, sweeping his blaster from side to side as he checked points of potential ambush. Seconds later, he beckoned for Giles to follow. Giles stepped gingerly out, and then pointed in the direction they needed to go, out across more sand.
It took them several minutes to clear the huts, and then several more to get out across the sand dunes and drop down onto a cliff face. Despite the drop below them, the rockiness of the cliff was actually a welcome change from the soft, unstable sand under foot.
Giles led the way now, moving agilely across the rock, wending his way down and around the natural crater on the edge of the desert. Occasionally, they would come across signs of life: a vine that had wrapped itself around a rock in the shade, or a tiny scorpion that scuttled away at their movement.
Sean looked up at the sky, remembering his time out here in the past. “Hasn’t changed. Still just as oppressive as ever,” he grumbled.
Giles kept moving, seeming to enjoy the activity, now that they were away from the threat of the locals. “I dunno. I think it’s beautiful, in a morbid kind of way. And when it’s not so hot, it’s almost charming…”
Sean didn’t have the energy to argue. He pressed on, focused on the mission. “Where exactly are we going?” he asked.
Giles glanced back, and then ahead. “Just a little further around this cliff face. There’s a cave; Robin would use it to hide his stash. Weapons. Chemicals. Delicate toys or contraband. It’s sheltered from the heat and any prying eyes; or satellites, if any authority came a-calling.”
Sean frowned as he navigated his way over a protruding rock. “You mean you knew he was bent?”
Giles shrugged. “I guess. Yes. But I wasn’t here to arrest people. I was here to study them.”
Sean’s features furrowed. “So you were studying our criminals?”
Giles talked as he clambered along the rock, careful each time he placed his foot. “More like the social dynamics between them and the other groups here on the planet. You see, all these groups are intricately entwined. When you come away from the judgment, you can see that they make up a delicately balanced ecosystem - socially, spiritually, and, indeed, economically.”
Sean wasn’t exactly following the socio-babble, but he spotted the cave entrance just up head. “This it?” he called forward to Giles.
“If memory serves,” Giles called back, reaching for a rock in front of him to balance himself. Sean was aware of a sudden movement from Giles’s direction, and looked up just in time to see him lose his footing and disappear out of sight.
There was a flurry of rock and sand as Giles dropped. Sean’s heart jumped into his mouth as he rushed forward, realizing that Giles was hanging onto a vine that had been protruding from the cliff.
Giles let out a shout, scrambling for something else to hold onto. He kicked at the rocks to try and get a foothold, anything, to try and take some weight off the vine which was already ripping away from its roots in the rock.
Sean scrambled forward, anchored himself against the rock, and reached down to offer the dangling scientist his hand.
Giles looked up with panic in his eyes, blinded by the dust and sand. Sean grabbed at his arm and steadied him, keeping him from bouncing against the cliff. Giles found a completely inadequate foothold, but enough to give him contact with the cliff face.
“It’s okay, mate. I’ve got you. You’re not getting out of this adventure that easily.” Sean’s face showed the strain his body was under, holding them on the tiny track and preventing Giles from falling to his death.
Giles noticed in that moment of extended time how in his element the marine was, now that there was a physical threat to deal with. He found himself envying the calm. Envying the tolerance for pressure. Envying the life that seemed to spark inside of Sean as soon as there was trouble.
Addict, Giles realized.
The man is a danger addict. And that is what makes him such an asset to the General.
It all became so clear.
Giles watched everything in slow motion as Sean talked to him, giving him instructions to find a better foothold; to release the vine and grab onto the rock; to transfer his weight onto Sean’s grip and make the transition upwards. Sean was calm and clinical. Exacting. Like he was merely teaching a child to rock climb.
“That’s it, mate. One last push, and you want to haul yourself up and over onto the track, such as it is. See if you can use that white rock there to pull your leg over. Hook it first, and then pull; careful about straining, though. Just turn your hip over. You got it?”
Giles grunted and then swung his leg up as instructed. He turned his hip, noticing that, had he not, he wouldn’t have had the strength in his inner thigh to make the maneuver to safety. He marveled at Sean’s insight… almost as if he was just observing himself being in mortal danger.
A row of rocks represented some semblance of a path they were following, and Giles lay facedown against them. He was breathing heavily, regaining his strength… and his balls, which he was sure had dropped down the cliff face when he initially slipped.
He could hear Sean recovering his breath, as well. He turned his head and looked up, his body flooding with gratitude. Sean was wiping the sweat from his forehead with his sandy atmosuit. Sean shook out the arm that he’d used to pull Giles up.
Giles grinned. “Thanks, man,” he panted.
Sean chuckled a little. “Anytime, mate.” He paused and looked out across the crater, and then back in the direction of the cave. “You think you can make it the rest of the way?” he asked.
Giles started getting to his knees, but his body had gone limp, and the fear from what had just happened was catching up to him. He nodded anyway. “Yeah. Think I may just crawl, though,” he said, carefully trying not to glance down at the drop, even though every curious bone inside him wanted to see the carnage he had narrowly escaped.
Sean nodded and scrambled to his feet, keeping an eye on Giles behind him to make sure he was following.
They made their way carefully to the cave, and arrived panting, relieved to have made it and to be out of the heat.
Giles, already on hands and knees from crawling, collapsed on the soft sand and rolled onto his back. Sean made his way deeper inside, and found a wall to slump against while Giles recovered from his near-death experience.
“So, do you think we need to worry about booby traps?” Sean asked, glancing into the darkness of the cave, waiting for his eyes to adjust.
Giles rolled over onto his front, now thoroughly covered in sand. “Dude, you really have watched too many of those old tomb-raiding movies!” Giles laughed to himself, the relief of being alive still settling into his bones.
Sean glanced back at him. “Can never be too safe,” he said. His tone was more commanding, as if Giles had said something completely inappropriate.
Giles chuckled a little.
Sean rolled his eyes as he scrambled to his feet again. “You realize your good humor is a result of the scare you just had, right?”
Giles sniggered. “Yep. But I intend to enjoy it; and every moment from here on in. No more complaining from me, no, siree.”
Sean ventured deeper into the cave, carefully eyeing each step before he placed his foot, aware of every single thing around him. His eyes now adjusted to the darkness, he could make out outlines of things. A desk. A picture on a wall. A seating area. He pulled up his holo and projected a low-power flashlight from it, to illuminate the area without destroying his night vision.
Giles had made it to his feet, and wandered over to join Sean while dusting himself off. He nearly tripped over an edge as the sandy floor of the cave transitioned into some kind of flooring. Catching himself in time, he looked down and stamped his foot. “Looks like he’s upgraded since I was last invited down here,” he commented.
Sean wandered onward, finding a passageway off the main area. “You remember this?” he asked indicating into the doorway.
Giles nodded. “Sure. That way lays his prison, where he puts people who have pissed him off. The passage off to the right of there goes to the walk-in safe.”
Sean nodded. “Guess I’ll start there, then,” he decided, wandering off to explore.
Giles stood in the middle of the main area and looked around. Then he pulled up his holo as Sean had done, and started searching the place methodically.
Aboard The Empress
Brock, Crash, and Molly watched the forward screen as the green-lit missiles headed in their direction. Not a few kilometers ahead of them, The Little Empress languished; suspended in space, still rotating on an off-kilter axis, attempting to regain control from the last blast it took.
“Looks like they’ve been deploying decoys,” Crash commented, raising his arm to feebly indicate the projectiles coming from The Little Empress.
Brock shook his head. “It’s not enough,” he said, barely peeling his eyes from his console. “Come on, come on…” he muttered to the array of controls in front of him. “Come ON!” His frustration levels rose and Molly glanced down, vaguely aware that he was working on something.
Crash turned to read off a screen Molly couldn’t see. “Three seconds till impact,” he reported.
Molly held her breath.
Emma’s voice interjected. “They could withstand a couple, but not more than three of those missiles.”
Molly tried to take in what Emma had just said. It isn’t possible…
Brock hit a final switch, only then looking up to watch the screen.
Molly braced herself, not quite sure she had put it together right. Is Joel’s ship about to be destroyed? Is that what Emma is saying? Her heart was in her mouth as the implications of the missiles hitting The Little Empress dawned on her.
And then their own ship shuddered.
“What was that?” she asked, still watching the screen and noticing that The Little Empress was still intact.
There was another shudder. And then another.
“It’s working!” Brock shouted. “It’s working!”
Molly was confused, and then she saw the green flares as the missiles hit the forcefield around not just The Little Empress, but their own ship as well. Her mouth opened in shock, and then a smile. “You did it?” she half-asked, half-celebrated, her hand finding its way to Brock’s shoulder.
Brock was celebrating with a little hand jive. “Oh, yeah. I did it!” he confirmed. “It was tight, but I managed to drop our shields and then, thanks to Emma’s uber processing power, we were able to recalculate and bring them back online around The Little Empress.”
Crash rolled his head to look at his copilot. “Nice job, Slick,” he said. Brock raised his hand for a high-five, and Crash hit it.
Molly became aware of her legs going weak, and realized she needed to sit down. She stumbled over to one of the console chairs opposite where she had been sitting before. “Emma, report?” she asked.
Emma responded immediately. “Shields at eighty seven percent, and holding. The Little Empress is nearly stabilized, and the course is being plotted to bring them in. Expect them to dock in four minutes and twenty seconds - as long as they leave the flying to me, now.”
Molly sat back in the chair, which tipped her backward in the bucket seat. She closed her eyes. “Make it so,” she ordered.
Relief flooded through her body. She hadn’t thought that she could actually lose Joel, and then there it was: a semi-routine mission turned nearly fatal. Of course I would have been devastated to lose Jack, as well, now that she considered it. Or any one of my team. But…
She shook the thoughts from her head, savoring a moment of relief before she slipped out of the console chair and left the cockpit.
In a daze, she found herself running down to the cargo bay as quickly as she could.
Kerr’s cave, Northern Province, Teshov
“Royale! I’ve got it!” Giles’s voice carried through from the other room.
Sean had been working on trying to crack the safe for the last twenty minutes. In the dark, and the stifling air, he worked through one mechanical combination after another, trying to get the damn thing open.
His frustration was only heightened when he heard Giles’s voice announcing that it wasn’t even necessary. He scrambled to his feet and stretched his back a little before moving into the main cavern.
Giles sat at the desk, looking through some papers. He barely glanced up as Sean returned. “It’s there,” he said, nodding at a lump of metal on the desk in front of him before returning his attention to the papers.
Sean looked suspicious. “And yet, rather than whooping and cheering that we accomplished the mission, you’re engrossed in some old school papers?”
Giles looked up. “Yes,” he replied simply. He gathered up the papers and folded them into a rectangle several times smaller, then shoved them into the inside of his jacket.
Sean had picked up the talisman and was inspecting it by the glow of his holo. He turned it over in his hands, trying to figure out what was so special about the lump of metal, which had holes in it.
Giles rounded the desk. “Shall we?” he said, indicating the cave mouth.
Sean shrugged and popped the talisman into his own inside pocket, and zipped his jacket up a little. “Sure. I’m ready for a cold shower and a beer.”
The two men headed out of the cave, leaving the darkness behind them.
Onboard The Empress
Molly waited for the cargo hold doors to close before she attempted to hit the airlock button. She stood watching Joel and Jack shutting the ship down, talking as casually as if they’d just done a routine run, or a training exercise.
Once the cargo doors closed to the outside, the button lit up to her left. She thumped it and leaned on the door, trying to hurry it open. It retracted sideways. She watched the gap widen until it was big enough for her to just slip through. She stepped into the chamber and waited impatiently for the air pressure to stabilize on the other side of the second door so she could gain access.
Joel and Jack had disappeared from view of the cockpit’s windows. She stamped her feet impatiently, her emotions heightened by the adrenalin.
Finally, the second door opened, and she stepped quickly out onto the cargo hold’s gridded floor, grateful for the thick boot soles that protected her from the metal grating underfoot.
A moment later, Joel appeared from around the rear of The Little Empress. He walked casually, still talking to Jack. “Well, that was an epic fail,” Jack was saying.
Joel scratched at the back of his head, and then looked up, noticing Molly. He looked surprised that she had come all the way down to greet him. He looked back, to see if there was something on the ship he had forgotten, before wondering if she had come to greet them.
She walked toward them, her pace quickening. She was intently focused on Joel, but remembered herself, and included Jack when she spoke. “I’m so relieved you’re both okay,” she called as they approached. “You gave us quite a scare!”
Jack’s eyes widened in agreement. “Yeah, we gave ourselves a scare, too. I think I’ve earned a cold one,” she said, slapping Joel on the upper arm before hurrying off, leaving the two friends standing on the deck.
Joel looked down at Molly, his face damp with sweat and anxiety. “It was a close one,” he acknowledged.
Molly nodded, slowly recognizing that her brain had stopped working because she was overwhelmed. Joel didn’t press her or put her on the spot. He just quietly swung his arm over her shoulder and walked them back to the airlock. “It’s over now. Apart from the fact that we have to find another way to take out this High Marshall Drudeili.” He chuckled to himself and squeezed his arm around Molly’s shoulders.
The two headed off down the corridor together in comfortable silence.
Chapter 9
Onboard ArchAngel
“They must have had some way of knowing we were coming. No way they could have had their weapons locked on us at such a distance so quickly. They knew precisely where we were gating in. It’s the only explanation.”
Molly paced up and down the lab, talking out loud to herself, allowing the others to hear the thoughts that were churning in her mind.
Pieter had his holo out in front of him, but without a specific bounded problem to solve, he resigned himself to waiting for Molly to decide on the best course of action.
Paige and Maya sat quietly, trying to look helpful, but coming up with nothing. It really wasn’t their area.
Defeat hung in the air.
Joel wandered in, his hair damp from the shower, looking a little brighter, but still stressed out. “I’ve sent the others to get some rack time,” he announced.
Molly barely registered the comment.
“Oz,” she asked. “Can we check in with ADAM to see if he has any insights? Any reports of tech that can do this?”
“On it,” Oz answered over the room’s audio.
Joel took a stool next to Paige. “Why are we in a lab?” he asked. Maya shrugged. Paige leaned closer to him to whisper. “I think it helps her think better.”
Oz’s voice came over the audio. “That, and it’s out of the way of prying ears that may be interested in the operation. No one would think to look for us here… unless they got the memo.”
Joel raised his chin. “Ahh,” he said, understanding. “We suspect a mole.”
Molly turned to look at him, her ears pricking up. “We can’t rule it out,” she muttered. She turned back to stare at the spot on the wall she had been studying. Joel noticed that she disappeared from behind her eyes and went somewhere else. “We need to know what their edge is. Then we can figure out a way around it,” she mumbled.
Four pairs of eyes were locked on to her. Not that she was aware.
Molly’s mind kept churning. “Or we need another way to get close enough to take them out. Longer range missiles.”
Joel straightened in his seat. “I guess if we had either drones or a longer reach, we could be outside of the orbital range and it wouldn’t make any difference if they see us coming. Unless they scramble jets, there won’t be anything they can do.”
Suddenly there was a familiar figure leaning against the doorframe.
“Well, that’s assuming they don’t have a boatload of jets on standby. Which they probably will.” It was Sean. He uncrossed his arms and wandered into the lab.
Giles appeared behind him, walking in casually as if they were just joining a briefing for a routine mission.
Molly did a double take, suddenly putting together who they were, and where they had been. “Did you get it?” she asked, looking at Sean.
Sean pulled up a stool and sat down on the long side of the room, perpendicular to where the others had accumulated.
He nodded in Giles’s direction, and Giles wandered over to one of the central benches and threw something metallic down onto it. “Piece of cake,” he announced with a casual half smile.
The talisman clanked and clattered on the surface before coming to a rest. Molly looked at it for a moment.
“‘Piece of cake,’ my ass!” Sean scoffed.
Giles shrugged. “All in a day’s work,” he chirped. “So I hear you may have a mole. And a problem blowing up a moon?”
Molly studied him carefully, still unsure of what to make of him. “Maybe. We just don’t know.”
Giles raised his eyebrows and turned to face Joel, who was watching the newcomers carefully. “The thing with the long range missiles won’t work. He’ll adapt. He will send out fighters,” he said, nodding in Sean’s direction. “And if there is a mole on board, he’ll know you’re coming even before you leave the ship.”
Joel folded his arms. “So what are you suggesting? I’m assuming your criticism is coming from a place of having an actual way forward?”
Arlene appeared, and all eyes turned to her, the thought of a mole now planted in their psyche. She looked awkwardly around the room, feeling judged and surveilled.
“Hi,” she said nervously. “ADAM told me you were all down here.” She looked at Molly, trying to be natural under the spotlight. “How did it go?”
Molly turned casually and sat down on one of the lab stools, behind the central bench. “Fine,” she told her, noncommittally. “Apart from the blowing the fuck out of Shaa. That bit was a bust.”
Arlene suddenly understood at least part of the mood that hung in the room. “So, what’s your plan?” she pressed, looking around at the others who looked less than gloomy.
Molly idly picked up the talisman and turned it in her hands. “We’re trying to figure that out. Sounds like your boy Giles has something to add into the mix, though,” she said, looking up at him.
Giles animated himself. “Yes, yes I do,” he said, glancing at Arlene and switching into professor mode. He paced the width of the lab to the windows on the far side of the room, away from the group. Arlene ventured into the room and took a seat next to Sean.
“I’ve studied this Shaa fella from his public addresses. He’s a megalomaniac. Narcissistic. Driven by power. Ruthless. And at the same time, completely insecure.”
Giles turned to face the group. “His weakness is not his military. Not his defenses. His weakness is… his ego.”
Molly leaned on the desk, suddenly paying close attention, the talisman forgotten - at least by her. Had she been paying attention to Arlene, she would have noticed the woman’s pupils dilate when she spotted the metal object Molly had been idly playing with in her fingers.
Giles continued. “So the thing that Shaa wants the most is affirmation that he is on the right track with his grand plan. Deny him that, argue with him, reason with him, and all you’ll get is more resistance from him. And, in the case of a dictator with a large stash of armaments, this will be very painful for all involved. However,” he began pacing again, “what you have is an opportunity to find your way to his side, simply by affirming what he believes to be true.”
Molly frowned, not quite seeing how this was going to help her blow him up.
Giles turned to face her now. “You’ll want to choose someone from the Federation, who isn’t a threat. But who could be of use to them for intel. You need someone to surrender to him, to make him think that he’s won them over; someone who can convince him that they’ve switched sides. That will be the biggest stroke to his ego. Indoctrinating someone from within the ranks, and promising them the world… that’s easy - but to have turned someone to his cause from outside his circle? That will give him ya-yas till kingdom come.”
Molly stroked her chin, carefully considering the information.
Joel was the first to speak. “So what you’re saying is that we need to put someone on that rock, and let him think they’re defecting?”
Giles nodded. “Basically, yes.”
Sean chuffed, folding his arms and straightening his legs out in front of him, and then crossing them as well. “Well, that ain’t me!” he declared. “The guy sounds like a right lunatic.”
The others just sat silently, watching and waiting to see Molly’s reaction. Giles wasn’t done with his discourse, though.
“What you really need is someone who would have credibility; someone who is in the Federation, but not of it. Someone who could potentially have access to both sides of the story and have naturally come to the conclusion that he is right in his course of action.”
Molly was still churning the possibilities.
Giles took a step towards the bench she was leaning on. He looked down at her, dragging her gaze up to look at him. “Someone like me.” His voice was steady and balanced, but there was a glint of excitement evident in his eye - the glint that a drug addict would get when seeing his poison of choice.
Molly paused for a moment, frowning slightly, weighing the pros and cons. Giles started to offer more evidence, speaking just as she did, and he missed what she said.
He stopped. “Sorry, what?”
“I said ‘okay, then’.” Molly’s face was expressionless, but there was a titter of resistance from the others around her. She looked at them each in turn, noticing the outrage on their faces.
“What do you propose, precisely?” she asked Giles, ignoring the protests.
Giles stepped back against the bench behind him, leaning the heels of his hands on it as he faced Molly seriously. “I’ll need to make my own way over there. So I’ll arrive in a stolen ship, I guess. I’ll give myself up, and tell him why I’m there. He probably won’t believe me at first, so I’ll likely spend a few days in the brig… and then,” he sighed as if he were simply talking about running another lecture course, “he’ll start to trust me. I’ll give him some intel to prove myself, of course, and then I’ll figure out how to create a chink in his defenses so that you can get through.”
Molly shook her head, letting her arms drop to the desk now. “How are we going to stay in contact with you?” she asked, her face showing she was ready to shut the operation down.
Giles looked over at Arlene.
Arlene shook her head. “No. No way. I’m not okay with this.”
Molly looked confused.
Giles sighed. “Yes, we’ll get to that; but technically there are devices you could implant into my retina and ear, that would do that quantum whatchamacallit thing you have, right?”
Sean uncrossed his legs and sat up a little. “Yeah, the tech exists,” he admitted, glancing at Arlene, who had pursed her lips in resistance.
Arlene folded her arms. “It’s too dangerous,” she insisted. “The minute you even get into his airspace, you’re going to be escorted to the brig. You won’t even get to meet him. He won’t take you seriously, and I’ll bet if he’s even half as intelligent as you think, he’s got a file on every single person in the Federation that may be a threat to him. You, as the ‘nephew’ of the General, will be on that list. You mark my words!”
Arlene’s tone was that of a mother scolding a child. Molly half expected her to start wagging a finger at any moment.
Giles remained neutral to her response, and looked back to Molly to adjudicate the discussion. “I can do this,” he insisted calmly.
Molly leaned forward and pushed her stool away, standing up. “You probably can. I’m just not sure I should let you.”
Giles opened his mouth to protest, but Molly held her hand up to stop him. “I need to consider this, and all our options. Oz will look into the tech, and I need to talk to a few people. We’ll meet back here in two hours with a decision.”
Giles looked defeated. “Okay. Fine,” he said, throwing one arm in the air and shaking his head in surrender. “Back here in two hours,” he confirmed.
The group began to disperse, and Arlene was the first to leave the room. Giles went after her. Joel loitered for a moment, but disappeared when he noticed that Sean was waiting around to speak to Molly directly.
Finally the others who had been chattering amongst themselves picked up their stuff and headed out. Molly had her head in her hands, her face hidden from the room. Sean observed she was likely thinking. Or talking with Oz.
He wandered over to the bench, and stood in the space where Giles had just made his case. He paused, collecting his thoughts before he spoke. “You’re not seriously considering this, are you?” he asked her.
Molly lifted her face, her eyes weary - and one looking a little puffier than the other. “In the absence of anything better… yeah. I am.”
Sean’s face hardened. “You’re going to send a guy with no military training, no skills, no experience, and no idea what he’s doing into what could very quickly become a hostage situation?”
Molly watched him carefully without responding.
Sean leaned on the bench in front of her. “You know he calls Reynolds ‘Uncle,’ right? Have you any idea what kind of leverage that would give Shaa over the Federation?”
Molly blinked, but other than that, her face revealed nothing.
Sean’s brow furrowed, and his skin took on a slight sheen. The coloring around his face and neck increased, showing his agitation despite his attempts to curtail his feelings on the subject.
Finally Molly spoke. “Look, something tells me that maybe he isn’t as inexperienced and untrained as we might think. I’ve got a feeling he’s learned how to handle himself; and he wouldn’t have suggested it if he wasn’t confident.”
Sean practically rolled his eyes. “Yes, Yes he would. Civilians don’t know how to assess their own abilities. They have no idea how they’ll hold up in a hostile situation. They imagine they’d do this, and that, and get the bad guy; but really, they have no fucking clue. And men - men are wired to overestimate their ability.”
Molly leaned away from the desk and folded her arms. “Says who?”
Sean shook his head in disbelief. “Says science! And all my own damn experience! I know. I was that guy… until I got my ass shot to pieces on an Andskotans mission for trying to be a hero.”
Molly filed the data away, interested to see another side of Sean. But she wanted to wrap this conversation up more than anything. She sighed. “Okay, look. I’ll think about what you’ve said. But I’m not promising anything. If we don’t send Giles, then we’ll need to find someone we can send.”
Sean straightened up and stood back from the bench. “Okay. Well… I can look into finding a replacement,” he agreed, his bluster dispersing as he turned away. “Someone who won’t bring the Federation down as soon as they’re turned into a hostage,” he added as he strutted out of the door.
Molly, losing the will to live, leaned over the bench in front of her, and let her forehead rest on it for several minutes, exasperated with the whole thing.
* * *
Giles hadn’t realized she had been following him until he became aware of her footsteps behind him in the corridor. He called back to her over his shoulder. “So, you’re ready to work some of that old Garlene magic again?”
He didn’t look up as he scanned his fingerprint to access his room. The door slid open and he stepped inside, taking off his jacket.
Arlene stormed in behind him like a hurricane. She brushed past him, entering the lounge area, and then turned to face him with her hands on her hips.
Giles’s face dropped as he suddenly realized he was in enemy territory.
“And what do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, her cheeks flushing despite her blue skin. “They have a whole army at their disposal! What do you think you’re going to add that someone else can’t already do?”
Giles knew better than to be a smartass at this point. “I thought I’d help out. You know. Get involved, help the mission… for the Federation.”
Arlene’s mouth was agape as she searched for the words to express her frustration.
Giles didn’t dare move. He’d studied pre-reptilian behavior, and in that moment, he fancied himself as the prey to a velociraptor or something similar. Their vision was drawn only by movement.
If I don’t move, she can’t kill me, he reasoned.
“So you think you’re just going to head on over to that known terrorist’s paramilitary base, and hold your hands up, and hope he doesn’t blow your brains out on the spot?”
Arlene shook her head in disbelief, not really expecting an answer to her question. “And if he doesn’t kill you right away, you can bet he’s going to torture you.”
Giles shrugged. “What’s a little torture between friends? We’ve all been there,” he said poignantly.
Arlene ignored the inference, not in the mood to delve into the past. She shook her fists, willing herself not to strangle him and complete Shaa’s job for him. “Giles! You don’t get it! These guys aren’t your tribal men with sticks, and stories of ghosts and demons. These are evil people who have guns and blades and a tendency towards mindless violence. And taking a beating in a backwater coven as a rite of passage is in no way comparable to what these people will do to you.”
Giles bit his tongue, his brain urging him to repeat the words ‘rite of passage’ out loud in disdain. Instead he sighed, releasing his own tension, deeming that a look of surrender would afford him the luxury of movement.
He plunked himself down into the armchair. Arlene remained standing.
“So what do you expect me to do?” he asked looking up at her, his eyes genuinely seeking an alternative now. “I can’t just let them send some half-baked squaddie in there. They wouldn’t stand a chance. No one is better qualified to talk to this guy than I am.”
Arlene forced herself to take her hands from her hips, perhaps prematurely. She immediately folded her arms across her body in defense and frustration. “Who’s to say that we have to put anyone in that position? Heck, why do we even need to land to take him out?”
Giles shook his head wearily and turned it to one side, pressing his finger and thumb against the ridge of his nose. “You know, if you were monitoring me, we’d be able to do this. And in a fraction of the time it would take me to figure him out on my own.”
Arlene turned and headed for a chair to Giles’s left. She sat down in resignation. “You mean monitor and interpret while you lead him?”
Giles dropped his hand and turned his face to look at her. “It’ll be just like the good old days,” he said, a slight brightness returning to his voice.
Arlene sat back in her chair. Giles knew immediately that he had her. He smiled to himself, careful to not gloat about his small victory.
Adventure-moon here we come, he thought.
Aboard ArchAngel, Reynolds’s office
“Come!” the General called in response to the rap on the door.
The door opened, and Sean Royale stepped inside. “Sir, thank you for seeing me,” he started.
Lance was sitting casually on one of his sofas, reviewing information on his holo. He glanced up as Sean approached. “You made it sound important,” he said with a half smile.
Sean wrung his hands, tension rippling through his arm muscles. “It is. It’s about Giles.”
Lance sprang up, closing the holo to give Sean his full attention. “Ah, right. What’s the little bugger done now?”
Sean hesitated. “He’s, erm… volunteered for a mission he shouldn’t be involved in. Not least because he’s a civilian and shouldn’t be on the front line-”
Lance’s voice tightened. “Front line?”
Sean regretted having to break the news to him. He swallowed. “Yes, sir. It’s to do with the Shaa mission. We need another way in… in order to penetrate their defenses. It’s - ”
Lance nodded understanding immediately what Giles expected to do. “Out of the question. That’s what it is. That boy…” he headed over to the drinks tray without even thinking.
He poured himself a whiskey and then offered Sean one. Sean refused with a polite gesture of his hand. Lance drank his in one go, and then poured himself another. He walked back over to the sofa and sat down. “He thinks that just because I have the resources at my disposal, I can swoop in and save him. Time and again.”
Lance shook his head, lowering his gaze. “It’s my fault. It’s what I’ve always done. Saved him. Gotten him out of fixes. One time, I sent the whole damn Armada out to the boondocks, just to retrieve his reckless little ass.”
Lance’s face took on a more determined look; one that seemed to betray his age, despite his engineered genetics. “He’ll have to learn the hard way. I’ll have a word; but if he insists on going against me, there will be no rescue mission. You’ll need to communicate that to him, too. He simply won’t believe me if I tell him.”
Sean shifted his weight awkwardly. “Yes, sir. Of course, sir. Although, forgive me if I’m speaking out of turn. Might it be worth restricting his movement, perhaps?”
Lance looked up, his glass halfway to his mouth. “You mean confine him to his quarters so he can’t leave?” He forgot that he was about to take a sip, and instead set the glass down on the coffee table in front of him. He sucked air through his mouth slowly. “I suppose… Although, he’s a little old for being sent to his room.”
Sean shrugged, relaxing a little. “It’s a military operation. It wouldn’t be unreasonable for someone to be imprisoned for interfering with a mission.”
The General bobbed his head thoughtfully. “Let me talk to him first. Make sure he understands our position. And if you might have a word in his ear, too, it would be much appreciated.”
“Of course, sir,” Sean agreed.
“Okay, Captain. Thank you for bringing this to my attention,” Lance concluded, picking up the whiskey tumbler and drawing it to his lips.
Sean nodded, and left the General to his predicament.
Chapter 10
Onboard ArchAngel, Ship Lounge
Giles looked out at the darkness from behind the glass. The expansiveness of space never failed to put him in a good mood. He remembered standing at a very similar window as a child, tracing the patterns on the flooring, and then looking up and being captivated by the eternal blackness beyond where he could place his hands.
Giles felt someone come up behind him.
“Heard a rumor today,” a voice reported. Giles wasn’t immediately sure that the comment was directed at him.
Lance came and stood next to him, joining him in looking out the window.
Giles turned his head to see his uncle next to him. “I’m sure it took Arlene all of thirty seconds to alert you to my intentions,” he commented.
Lance rocked on his heels. “Wasn’t Arlene… although, I’m sure she made her case to you in true Arlene fashion.”
Giles chuckled. “Yeah,” he agreed, shuffling his hand through his already disheveled hair. “She did. Though I do believe I have her on my side now.”
“So you intend to go through with it then?” he asked. Lance watched for Giles’s reaction carefully, hoping that he wasn’t going to have to force the issue.
Giles nodded, shoving his hands into his pant pockets. “I have to,” he said quietly, still looking out of the window.
Lance drew in his breath, wishing he didn’t have to make his next statement. “You know, with everything going on in the Federation right now, I’m a target. Which means you’re a target. And you’re going to walk right up to the most prominent threat we’ve seen in decades, and hand yourself over?”
Lance shook his head. “You know I’d move heaven and Earth to keep you safe; but if you get taken… and you can’t talk your way out… I’m not going to be able to send in an extraction team this time. Not right now. And not with these people.”
Giles looked as though he was going to interrupt, but Lance kept talking. “Besides, we’ve already put Molly’s team on taking the guy out, and there was something we were missing. She failed. Do you understand the significance of that? There’s no safety net, if you do this. Apart from anything, this is all off the record. Molly’s team doesn’t exist. So if you go in there, with them, it means officially, you weren’t there. No one will ever know where you went.”
Giles nodded, churning the information in his mind. “I get that, Uncle Lance,” he said quietly, still gazing out into the blackness. His eyes seemed haunted. Haunted by something Lance couldn’t possibly fathom at this point. Giles blinked. “And I’m okay with it,” he continued, more determined now. “And I have every faith in Arlene’s ability to help me read the guy fast enough to get out.”
Lance looked away from him, out into space himself. “And if you’re wrong?”
Giles’s vulnerability disappeared behind a layer of bravado. “Then have a memorial service for me, and make sure you say nice things.”
Lance shook his head, sadness and worry in his eyes. He put his hand on the man’s shoulder as if he were still a child. “I need to say this,” he said, pausing to make sure his words were being heard. “I don’t want you to do it. I want you to stay here, where you’ll be safe, and - ”
Giles turned and slapped his father’s best friend on the shoulder. “Uncle Lance, now you’re starting to sound like Mom.”
Lance knew that the window of opportunity had passed, and that Giles was deflecting. He resigned himself to sharing the boy’s humor. “Well, hell. Someone’s got to try and talk some goddamn sense into you,” he said, producing a half-chewed cigar from his pocket and placing it in his mouth.
The two men’s ages seemed switched; the older one appearing to be young and boyish, and the youngest seeming middle aged. But the respect they shared, and the ways they communicated in their relationship showed they were closer to equals. They headed toward the bar to have a final drink together before the now-inevitable mission rolled around.
* * *
“So, what’ve you got?” Molly asked as she strode into the lab they were using as a base on The ArchAngel.
Paige and Maya were looking exhausted from the work, but their spirits were higher than Molly expected.
Paige scraped her stool backwards as she stood up. “We’ve made some progress on Chaakwa’s case,” she announced brightly. Her cheeks swelled with pride, as she managed to muster her signature grin.
Molly wandered over to where the girls were set up with their array of holoscreens all over the bench. “Show me,” she said.
Maya and Paige ran through the various points of intel they had gathered, pinpointing each of the players who had been involved in the sinister demise of Chaakwa’s father.
“Depending on how you’d like to handle this,” Maya explained, “I think we can probably enlist some help from some of his old buddies on the force. Chaakwa was clear that she wanted to take them in and give them a trial, so they would be publicly found guilty, and exposed.”
Molly bobbed her head as she reviewed a holo that Maya had just passed her. “I see. So she didn’t go for putting a bullet through them?” she confirmed.
Maya shook her head. “Nope.”
Molly smiled. “I like her…”
Maya and Paige exchanged glances, relaxing a little. They knew that violence had its place, especially in an outfit like the military; but still, they found it a relief that they weren’t going to have to be down for the killing on this one. Even though some of the fuckheads downright deserved it.
Molly pushed the holoscreen back toward Maya. “Okay, finish the background checks on these guys, and see if there is a way to get them all in one place. This will be far cleaner if we can round them up and then hand them over in one go.”
Maya nodded in agreement.
Molly turned to leave. “As soon as we get done with this business with Shaa, that’s next on our agenda.”
Molly breezed out of the room, pleased they were making progress on something.
So it sounds like you’re going to go ahead and let Giles do this?
Yes. I think I need to. We’ve tried the overt assault, and we need another way.
And the fact that he isn’t even on your team…?
It’s a concern, of course. But we supported him in regaining that talisman, and I have a gut feeling our job isn’t done with that yet… Plus, the guy is convinced he knows what he’s doing. And I’m almost tempted to believe him.
And if he can’t get out?
Then we find a way to get him out.
The odds of success on this are low. I can share with you the parameters if you-
That won’t be necessary, Oz. I think it’s something he needs to do… and that we need to let him do.
Well, you can’t pretend to me you’re not uneasy about it.
Of course I’m uneasy about it.
Molly continued down the corridor, heading back to her quarters. There was work to be done before they would be ready to deploy Giles in the morning.
ArchAngel, Medical Facility
Arlene busied herself with checking the implants that the ship’s surgeons had inserted into Giles’s eye and the side of his head by his ear.
Sean looked down at the middle-aged professor sitting in the chair in front of him. “I need to make sure you understand what you’re agreeing to do,” he said, his face the most serious Giles had ever seen it.
Giles nodded. “I understand. We’ve been over it.”
Sean closed his eyes for a second before continuing. “But the tech on that ship… if it falls into enemy hands, it’s programmed to self-destruct. The EI on board won’t let it just stick around.”
Giles breathed a sigh of frustration. “I know. I get it. You’re going to have the ship drop me, and then gate out of there.”
“Yes,” Sean pushed, “meaning that you’re going to be on that moon, all alone, with no means of escape.”
Giles glanced over at the kit Arlene had him rigged up to for the testing phase. “We had better hope that this shit works, then.”
Arlene, who had been ignoring the conversation until then, peered at him over her tinted specs. “This ‘shit’ will work. My concern is that you’ll get killed before you can work your magic.”
Giles shook his head against the headrest, and then relaxed backwards, knowing that this was going to go on until he was actually landed and out of their safety zone.
Giles was struck by a thought. “You know, it makes no difference about the ship. Even if there were a ship there that I could use to escape, they’d have it, and the airspace, so locked down, there is no way I’d get out of there alive.”
Sean glanced up at Arlene, who had paused what she was doing and was still peering at him. “He has a point,” Sean agreed.
Arlene went back to the holoscreen of the diagnostics. Both men could tell she was anything but happy about the situation.
“Okay,” she said finally. “They did a nice job with the auditory implant. I’ve got it hooked up with the existing language chip you already had implanted there, and I’ve run a few firmware updates on it. Should be an even smoother experience, with less lag. The retinal one is picking up the quantum comm perfectly, and, as instructed, they’ve buried the connection button even deeper into your arm than they would normally. If you need to hit it, you’re going to need to really press deep in to get it. At least like this, it will probably avoid detection if they search you.”
She took the tinted glasses off, and stood up from her chair next to him. “Your nanocytes will take care of the incisions. They won’t scar, so there’ll be no hint of the implants after you’re healed.”
Giles sat up, and rolled down his shirtsleeves. “Okay. Thanks, Arlene.”
Sean, with nothing left to say, stood up as well. He waved to Arlene, and then walked silently out of the door.
Giles watched him leave, and then shrugged, not expecting any sympathy from Arlene, either.
Aboard The Empress
“You sure we’re far enough out?” Molly asked.
Sean nodded. “Should be. I don’t know of any tech that could see us from here.”
Molly’s eyes were fixed on the screen ahead of her. They were able to see the former-moon, with the odd ship coming in and out every so often.
“Looks like a lot of traffic,” she commented.
Crash shifted in his seat. “Yeah. I’ve been watching their flight path; I suspect they’re doing exercises, rather than actually going anywhere.”
Molly mumbled her acknowledgment.
“There!” Sean said, highly animated and pointing his finger into one corner of the screen. “That’s him.”
Joel had been sitting in one of the console chairs further back in the cockpit. He got up and moved forward in order to see better.
Arlene punched some keys in her holo console, to the left of where the others had congregated. “That’s him, indeed. He’s on approach.”
The team watched as The Scamp Princess approached Chom-X9. Occasionally, one of them would shift their weight, or check something on another monitor; but other than that, there was silence in the cockpit.
Eventually, Arlene broke the quiet. “He’s landed.”
“Put his readout onscreen,” Molly instructed.
A moment later, they were seeing and hearing everything Giles was experiencing.
Joel leaned back in his chair to catch Arlene’s eye. “Can he hear us?” he asked.
Arlene shook her head. “No. But I can open a channel to his implant when we need to,” she confirmed.
They watched as Giles stepped out of the craft, moving slowly and carefully as he went. It took a few moments before he spun around, revealing the view onscreen of the tribe of Zhyns with blasters trained on him.
“By my Ancestors!” Brock exclaimed. “How many of them are there?” He only vocalized what the others were thinking.
Sean leaned forward on his console. “Yeah, and my bet is they didn’t all come out to say hello.”
Joel glanced over to Molly. “Looks like he has more than a few defectors. Seems like he probably has more of an army at his disposal.”
Molly rolled her lips together. “Certainly explains a few things,” she admitted. “You know, the intel that we receive may be helpful after all.”
They watched as Giles was taken into the custody of the muscle-y, angry-looking Zhyn. He was cuffed at his wrists, and a restraining device was placed around his neck. They all recognized what that did, but no one said a word. Giles had made his choice, and there was no turning back now.
Molly glanced over at Arlene. “Now what?” she asked.
Arlene removed her headset and sat back in her console chair, watching the screen at the front of the cockpit. “Now,” she told them, “we wait.”
* * *
Jack sat cross-legged in the main cabin, keeping the others company. Idly she swung her foot up and down. “So you think you can track down all these fucktards?” she asked Paige, more making conversation than anything else.
Paige glanced over at Pieter, who was immersed in something on his holo. He looked up and nodded. “Yeah, we should be able to…” he said absently.
Jack peered over and realized he had created a copy of the screen that was in the cockpit.
So much for keeping them away from the distraction of the main event, she thought.
Maya muttered something to herself.
Paige nudged her. “What is it?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at her holoscreen.
“Background check on one of our tangos. I really don’t think this guy deserves to go into the system.” She showed her holoscreen to Paige, whose eyes widened in horror as she read his rap sheet. “And they let him out?” Paige clarified, hardly believing what she was reading.
Maya nodded. “Every time. And each time, he has gotten involved in more murders. It’s like the system is corrupt or something…”
Jack leaned forward, jarred by what she was overhearing. “Let me see,” she said, reaching for the holoscreen.
Maya shared it with her and watched Jack’s reaction.
After a few seconds of scanning the background summary, Jack spoke. “This shit can’t be allowed to go on. I’ll have a word with Molly, but when we bring these guys in, this one won’t be handed over.” Her eyes blazed with a passion that none of the team had seen before. She was possessed by anger; her whole aura pulsed with fury.
She passed the holoscreen back to Maya and stood up. Without another word, she strode off in the direction of the cargo hold.
Maya and Paige looked at each other, surprised by this glimpse of Jack. Maya broke the silence. “She has a point,” she said, folding the screen away and moving on to the next thing.
Paige went back to her work, glad that there were fighters in this world.
Warriors like Jack, who cared.
Chom-X9
“You don’t understand. I have important information for the High Marshall. I’ve come from the Federation. They don’t know I’m here!” Giles shouted back through the dark, damp corridor as his new imprisoners slammed the cell door shut on him.
They had led him, not to speak with Shaa, as he had hoped, but rather, down to some kind of dungeon with metal walls.
He kicked at the door in frustration, and turned away, looking at the state of the place he’d willingly walked into. “Damn cliché of a dungeon, if you ask me!” he retorted to the silent Zhyn whose footsteps he could already hear walking away.
He wasted little more time on his emotions. In fact, once alone, his demeanor changed. He stood more upright, and calmly looked around the cell, checking for ingresses and vents, and anything else that might be either a help or a threat.
He searched around for signs of cameras, knowing in all likelihood he was being watched. Although, there was no need to overdo the play-acting for the cameras. Things would progress soon enough.
Finally, he noticed a little spot in one corner of the cell.
Bingo, he thought, careful not to gaze at it for too long. He’d found his camera. Now he knew where his audience was, he could carefully hide his conversations with Arlene…
Shaa’s office, Chom-X9
“Your Highness, the prisoner we picked up yesterday is still asking for you.”
The voice interrupted Shaa’s train of thought.
Slightly irritated, Shaa turned from the window that looked out onto the open expanse of rocky terrain. “What does he want?” he asked gruffly.
Davon lowered his eyes and clasped his hands. “He’s saying he wants to… er… defect, sir.”
Shaa swung around. “On what grounds?”
Davon wrung his hands tightly. “He says he has information. About the Federation. Says he was close enough to have intel that we would want.”
Shaa waved his hand dismissively and looked back out of the window. “Yes, but why? And what could he possibly have that would be of use to us?”
Davon shrugged. “I don’t know. Allow me to find out more.” He bowed and started to leave.
Shaa’s voice stopped him before he had made it to the door. “And who is he, exactly?” he asked idly.
Davon pulled up his holo. “Our records show that he is one of the long living ones. Son of Kurns, who we know has always been on the inner circle. Never had a way to get to him, though; he was always locked up tight within the empire.”
Shaa shuffled his weight a little before turning back to his second in command. “Have him brought up here. I’d like to see this Son of Kurns. If he has anything interesting, he can share it before we dispose of him.”
Davon bowed again, and this time hurried out of the room.
Shaa turned back to the landscape in front of him, imagining what it would be like, populated with other believers - other Zhyn who were prepared to go the distance.
Imagine what I could accomplish, then. The Federation wouldn’t have a chance.
Chapter 11
Aboard ArchAngel, Lance’s office
“It’s been twenty four hours!” Molly’s voice was a little higher than she had hoped it would come out.
Sean sat on one of the General’s sofas, rubbing his face. Molly could tell he was worried, despite his assurances that Giles probably knew what he was doing.
She glanced over at him. “You’ve changed your tune,” she said to him, a hint of accusation leaking into her statement.
Lance hovered next to his drinks tray, looking at the small group of worried friends who had appeared in his office. “As have you,” he pointed out to Molly.
Molly put one hand on her hip, trying to find the words that would be helpful. Arlene sat patiently, waiting for her opportunity to weigh in. Joel sat next to her, very aware of her tension, contemplating the operational variables that might give them an edge.
Molly finally found her way to express herself. “I thought he’d be in and out by now. That was what we’d agreed to.”
Arlene took her hands from her mouth. “It was never going to happen like that; that isn’t how these things work. He’s in for the long haul. And he knew that,” she added.
Molly honed in on Arlene. “You knew what to expect?” She paused, watching carefully, reading Arlene’s calmness. Then she saw it. “You’ve done this before. That’s why you were both so confident. This is what you’ve been doing for the Federation for years - pretending that you’re just out there, gallivanting and exploring and reporting back some cultural studies - but really, you’re spies. You’ve been grifting our enemies forever!”
Molly shook her head in disbelief, not just in the revelation and her naiveté that she didn’t see it before, but also at her surprise that she could see it now. It all seemed so clear, standing here in front of Arlene.
Arlene pulled her shoulders up, and then relaxed them; her hands now tidily perched in her lap. “You see that now because I’m allowing you to,” she explained, as if reading Molly’s thoughts. “It was too risky to let you know before then.”
Molly glanced over at Sean. “And you! You don’t seem surprised.”
Sean wiped his face again with one hand; the other hand was on his knee as he sat forward on the sofa. He didn’t speak. He just looked up at the General, and then down at the ornate rug under his feet.
Molly looked at Joel just to make sure she wasn’t going mad. Joel seemed just as surprised as she was. She could feel his mind churning through the realization that they’d been played.
The General poured himself a drink, and then turned back to face them. “The point is he’s in now. So what are we going to do about it?”
It had become Arlene’s operation, by some kind of unspoken agreement. She drew herself up a little and took a deep breath. “The way this normally goes down - ”
Molly looked down and shook her head, seething at the reminder of their deceit.
Wow; looks like you’re having a reaction to the words ‘normally goes down’.
Well, do you blame me? I mean, how were we supposed to know that this is what they fucking do?
On the plus side, it sounds like they’ve got this.
Yeah. I’ll count that blessing later. When I’ve finished reeling.
Arlene had continued with her narrative of what to expect. “…a few days for him to get an audience with Shaa. Or one of his henchmen. Either way, it’s a waiting game until then.”
Joel brought his attention back to the conversation. “And when he gets his audience?” he asked, shifting on the sofa to face Arlene a little more.
Arlene nodded. “Then, the real work begins. Giles has been fitted with the surveillance devices that we can hook up to the analysis software. This is going to help me determine exactly what kind of sociopath we’re working against. Once we know that, and we have a complete profile, Giles will know exactly what to do to gain his trust, and in turn, how to take him down.”
Lance looked at her briefly before returning to the task of studying the contents of his glass.
Sean suddenly sat up. “Okay. I guess that’s it, then. Nothing more for us to do until…?”
Arlene thought through the timeline. “We’re looking at a few days before we have a profile, and then it’ll probably take a week or so before we see any significant changes in their dynamic. And that’s assuming we get straight to Shaa, and not one of his goons. If we have to process through one of them to get to Shaa, it will add on a week or two.”
Molly folded her arms. “So what are we meant to do until then?” she asked, looking now to the General.
Lance realized the question was directed at him, and pulled himself back from his own concerns about Giles. “Right… well,” he said, putting his glass back down onto the drinks tray. “ADAM tells me your team has made some progress on that police captain’s death back on Estaria.”
Molly nodded, not entirely sure why that was relevant right now.
Lance looked to her, and then to Joel. “I suggest you take yourselves back to Gaitune, and work this case to its conclusion.”
Molly’s eyes widened as if she were about to protest, but Lance continued speaking. “If there is any change in the situation here, Arlene will make sure you are the first to know. And when things heat up, we’ll have you back here to finish what you started.” His voice was conclusive. Molly decided there was no point in arguing.
“Until then, go catch some bad guys, and make the Federation proud,” he told her.
Molly unfolded her arms and noticed that Sean had relaxed in his seat again.
He knows more than he’s letting on.
He does. I think he’s seen Giles do this before. Or at least, he knew of it. I’ll see what I can find out, if you like?
Thanks, Oz.
Molly walked over to the General and shook his hand. “Okay. Thank you for your hospitality, sir. I look forward to seeing you sooner rather than later,” she said, her eyes darting over to Arlene.
She turned and headed out of the room, waiting outside for Joel and Sean to say their goodbyes and follow her out.
Chom-X9, Shaa’s Office
“I hear you’ve been requesting an audience with me,” Shaa prompted as he sat down in his console chair behind a makeshift desk.
Giles looked around the room, taking in as much detail as he could. His eyes came to rest on the former Lord High Marshall of the Zhyn Empire. “I have information in exchange for asylum,” Giles said, monitoring his own tone to make it even and confident, without a hint of arrogance. He needed to play this guy just right.
Shaa steepled his hands. “Why do you want asylum?”
Giles was expressionless for a moment. “Because the Federation has become power hungry and corrupt. My ideologies no longer fit with their agenda.”
Shaa regarded him skeptically. “And what do you think you can tell me that I don’t already know?”
Giles lowered his chin a little. “You know who I am, right?” he ventured quietly, hoping the language chip was doing its job, and setting the right tone in his statement.
Shaa rocked gently in his chair. “I do. But that doesn’t tell me what you know that might be of strategic use to us. In case you hadn’t noticed,” he continued, waving his hands nonchalantly about him, “we have a lot of things already covered.”
A smile leered over his lips, lopsidedly showing his contempt for others, and the arrogance for what he had achieved.
Giles lowered his chin a little before answering. “I can give you all kinds of information. Like where the weak points are in their defenses, and the sequence of their runs into the base. I can also tell you all kinds of things about how their systems are built. You know I can. You know who my father is.”
Aboard ArchAngel
Several thousand kilometers away, Arlene watched and listened as Giles led Shaa into their trap.
She tutted into the empty comms room. “Oh, no, you won’t, wide boy. You will not be sharing that kind of intel.” She made a quick note of his promises in case she had to give the General a heads-up, shaking her head at how cavalier he was with secrets that she was sure other service people would defend with their lives. “He’s a law unto himself, that one,” she said to the darkened communications room.
Empty food packets were scattered around her workspace and filling the bins. She had not left the place since the meeting with the General the day before, when they returned to the ArchAngel after depositing Giles there. There was no way she was going to abandon him. She just wished he could find a way to gain Shaa’s trust without putting the Federation in jeopardy.
Chom-X9, Shaa’s Office
“Okay. I’m interested,” Shaa confessed. “Interested enough to see what you have.”
Shaa glanced down at Giles’s wrists. “I see you have no communication device, or computer on you.”
Giles rubbed at the place where his holo would have been, finding it difficult to move in his handcuffs. “Er, no, I don’t. My holo was taken from me as soon as I landed. If I could have it returned to me, I can start drawing up the information I brought for you to review…”
Shaa nodded to Davon, who was hanging back by the door, watching the whole exchange. Davon acknowledged the order with a small bow.
Shaa turned his attention back to Giles. “I’m particularly interested in anyone who might be aligning themselves with the Federation. Anyone who is having talks with them, but hasn’t been official in their intentions.”
He leaned on his desk. “That would be of value,” he added.
Giles nodded. “I can do that,” he agreed.
Aboard ArchAngel
Back in her dark room, Arlene held her headphones closer to her ear in order to hear better. She shook her head. “You’d better be making this shit up, you motherfucker,” she muttered to herself, making another note on her list.
She tapped a message onto her holo to ADAM.
I NEED TO APPRISE THE GENERAL OF DEVELOPMENTS ON CHOM-X9. MIGHT WE SET A MEETING FOR A FEW HOURS FROM NOW?
>>SEND<<
* * *
Shaa stood up. “It looks like we have a way forward, then,” he said. He pointed at the guards behind him, and signaled for them to take him back to his cell. “I look forward to reviewing your offering,” he added.
The guards grabbed Giles roughly by the upper arms, and manhandled him out of the room.
Giles nodded his head towards the Lord High Marshall before he was whisked away. There was nothing to say; he had his in.
And Arlene had her baseline.
Chom-X9
Giles was shoved back into the holding cell where he had spent the last day. He fell forward as he was shoved in, and waited for the swish and clank of the metal door closing behind him.
He took a few paces forward, his awareness on the door without turning to look at it. Once he was certain it was closed, and the footsteps were moving away, he lay down on his rack on his right hand side with his cuffed hands in front of him.
He turned his head downwards so his lips would be hidden from the camera. “Did you get all that?” he whispered.
Arlene opened up the connection on his earpiece. “Yes, every word, you scoundrel. You realize I’ll be reporting this in to the General so that he can have reinforcements sent to wherever they’re needed?”
Giles breathed in exasperation at the woman. “I’m in a holding cell at ground zero to the biggest terrorist operation the Federation has seen in our extended lifetimes, and you’re giving me shit about a few little ‘secrets’ that the guy probably already has?”
Arlene frowned though Giles couldn’t see it. “Well, at the very least, it’s generating more work for me, mopping up after you.”
Giles fidgeted, trying to get comfortable on the thin mattress, in his handcuffs. The metal bracelets were digging into his wrists horribly, but he couldn’t risk sitting up and having their conversation detected.
“Did you get the baseline for a profile?” he asked again.
Arlene huffed over the line. “Yes. Of course I did. You’re the last person I should need to remind that this is not my first rodeo.”
Giles smiled. “Yes, I’m well aware of this. And, hey, if this works out, maybe I can convince you that it won’t be your last either.”
Arlene’s lips, unable to be restrained by her brain, spread into a small smile. She was grateful that Giles wasn’t able to see her, because he would certainly have counted that as a point. “Are you sitting comfortably? There’s a lot to cover for this one.”
Arlene pulled up a dashboard from the video footage of Shaa she’d used to analyze his reactions: facial expressions, choice of words, tone of voice, speed of speech in different points. “And remind me to circle back to the hot spots I noticed when he made his counter-offer of the intel he really wants. I have a theory I want to run past you.”
Giles shuffled on his side again, his back aching already. “Okay. Go ahead. I’m listening.”
Arlene began the rundown as if it were just last week they had worked as a pair, infiltrating a high-stakes game.
Aboard The Empress, En route back to Gaitune-67
Paige chattered away excitedly to Maya. “I can’t believe that all this time, Arlene has been some super-spy!” Her eyes were wide as she tried to contain her excitement and keep her voice down.
Pieter poked his head up from behind their seats, joining the conversation. “Of all the people I have known, she’d be the least likely to be a super spy. I mean, Sean… he’s all dark and mysterious when he’s being serious. He’s got skeletons. And closets by the shed load, for sure.”
Sean yelled from the cockpit, “Yeah, and you’ll show more respect, unless you want to be a skeleton in said closet!”
Paige, Maya, and Pieter looked at each other. Pieter lowered his voice to a whisper. “Yeah, and ears like a fjandi bat!” he added.
Paige had clamped her hand over her mouth, but she didn’t really want to suppress her ability to speak. “Yeah, I mean, Arlene - I thought she was just some dear old lady, and then she had all these Estarian super powers. And then this!” Her voice had accidentally gotten louder, and she returned her hand to her mouth and subconsciously ducked her head down.
Maya glanced around seeing if someone else might overhear them. “Yeah, and Giles! The doddering professor. Who’d have thought?”
The sound of their voices carried through the cabin. Molly reclined in her seat and reviewed the files that Paige and Maya had pulled together for her.
Joel sat on the other side of the aisle, going through the material at the same time. “So, you think we should get Chaakwa involved at all? I mean, it’s a little risky for someone in her position. Not to mention… emotional.”
Molly pulled her eyes from her holo. “Yeah. That’s what I thought. But when we first talked about it, it was clear she needed closure. She needs to be in on this.”
Joel’s face softened. “Yeah, I can understand that,” he said, his eyes taking on a distant feel.
Molly dropped the holoscreen down and rested her arm. She looked thoughtful, and her eyes glazed over a little. She turned her head against the headrest. “Joel?” she asked, looking in his general direction.
Joel looked over again. “Mmm,” he said.
“What do you do for fun these days?” she asked, her eyes still a little distant.
Joel looked out across the cabin, contemplating his answer. “Well, I use the gym, I guess.”
Molly pulled her gaze up to meet his. “No, I mean fun. Not for health. Not for training. Not for work. Just… fun.”
Joel folded his holo screens away. “Well, I guess I don’t do anything. Not really.”
Molly shifted in her seat and brought her eyes forward. “Yeah. Me neither,” she agreed with a small sigh and a hint of resignation.
Joel twisted in his seat to look at her, crossing one leg over the other. “We should do something. Something fun; when we get back to Sark. Either on Gaitune, or even Estaria.”
Molly frowned a little. “Something? Like what?”
Joel’s eyes lit up. “Laser tag!”
Molly smiled and flicked her eyes upwards briefly. “That sounds like either a team building exercise, or a training disguised as fun.” She grinned and nodded in the direction of the gang. “Though, it might be an idea for them, one weekend.”
Joel’s face was brighter now. “Yes, that’s a point,” he said, mentally filing it away.
There was a pause in the conversation.
“How about we go for a beer?” he suggested.
Molly shrugged. “Sure. Why not,” she agreed simply. “In fact, I need to go to Estaria to see Chaakwa, once we’ve put together a plan. We could head down together.”
Joel bobbed his head. “You’re not worried about being seen? You are supposed to be dead, remember.”
Molly smiled dryly. “I’ll wear a hat,” she said flippantly.
Joel chuckled. “You’ve already had Oz deal with that, haven’t you?”
Molly avoided making eye contact. “Let’s just say Oz is an excellent team player, who more and more is working under his own steam.” Her smile widened, and Joel laughed.
“Well, it sounds like you have him well-trained,” he remarked, pulling up his holos again, and settling in to get some work knocked out.
Chapter 12
Gaitune-67, Base conference room
“Okay, any last questions?” Joel prompted. He looked around the conference table. The team was looking rested and back on the case, but the usual joviality was absent. “Don’t all talk at once,” he teased.
Brock grinned. “I got nothing. This one looks like a slam dunk.”
Joel closed his holos. “Let’s hope so,” he said, the memory of their ‘failed’ and ‘unresolved’ missions still lingering. The details of this cop’s mission were intricate and detailed, and they had to follow them to a ‘T’ to make sure they got the six culprits all to the same location at the same time.
Paige stuck her hand in the air. “If we’re done, I have an announcement,” she said brightly. A few of the team members around the table sat up a little, pleased for the change of pace.
Joel nodded, giving her the floor.
Paige glanced around the table, a little like a politician running for office. “Well, it’s real short. Because everyone was so tired when we got back here last night, we are pushing our pizza dinner to tonight.”
Maya leaned in. “We’re also going to have a beer for Giles,” she added.
There were approving grunts and affirmative sounds around the table. Brock sat up straighter in his chair, ready to be dismissed.
Joel looked to Molly, who acknowledged it was time to wrap up. He did the honors. “Okay, folks, there we have it. Pizza dinner tonight, and we’ll give you an update on the Chaakwa mission as soon as we get intel confirmation from Pieter – who, remember, is your point person on this one. So, any questions, direct them to him. Any decisions,” he looked at Pieter, “you run them up the chain to me. Got it?”
Pieter nodded once. He had slipped so low in his seat it was a wonder he hadn’t fallen on the floor. Paige wanted to reach over and slap him.
Joel brought it to a close. “Okay, peeps. Let’s call it a day,” he said, circling his finger in the air in his normal ‘move out’ sign.
The weary participants were glad to see the end of a three-hour briefing. Each and every one of them loved their job, and adored the people they worked with; but three hours in a non-stop operations planning and briefing was just grueling.
Brock leaned over to Pieter before they stood up. “Makes you wonder whether Giles has the better option!” he chortled, looking at the time on his holo.
Pieter snickered, managing, through some kind of weird agility, to pull himself up onto his seat properly, and then stand.
Paige had already made her escape from the conference room, her high heels clipping along the corridor, heading to get changed so she could do the pizza run.
Gradually, the room emptied out but for Sean, Joel, Jack, and Molly. Sean had surreptitiously made sure that Jack knew to stick around.
When all the others were gone and out of earshot, Jack made sure the door was closed, and wandered back over to the side of the conference room table where Molly still remained.
“This about the tango number six?” Jack asked.
Molly nodded. “Yes. And thank you for your message about that one. It was well worth us taking a proper look at.”
Jack bobbed her head. “So, what’s the verdict?” she asked bluntly, then glanced at Joel and Sean.
Molly pushed back in her seat to better see everyone. Sean had perched on the desk next to her, and Joel sat on her other side. Jack stood leaning against the wall.
“Well, we’ve all seen the file. I just want to make sure we are all in agreement.” She looked at each of them in turn.
Joel was the first to answer. “Yes. I’m sure we are,” he said, looking at the others to make sure he was accurate.
Jack shook her head. “In agreement about what?”
Sean and Joel exchanged looks, obviously having spoken about it together before they walked into the meeting.
“We’ll take care of it,” Sean said simply. “Once we leave the warehouse, we’ll give the signal to Chaakwa and her team, and they will find the five. As far as they’re concerned, the sixth guy was never there, and he’ll never be found.”
His tone was as straightforward as if he had been reading off a shopping list.
Molly wasn’t disagreeing, but she had a look of curiosity in her eyes. “What will you do with him?” she asked.
Sean shook his head. “You don’t need to know,” he said in response to Molly, and then looked back at Jack, recognizing the pain and anger in her eyes. “Just know that it will be handled.”
He and Joel exchanged another look; a look of agreement, sealing the bond of what they had volunteered to do.
Jack’s shoulders relaxed as she witnessed this. She realized in that moment that they were willing to handle this; not just because they thought it was the right thing to do, but also so that she and Molly didn’t have to. She was grateful for that - despite the fury that boiled in her blood whenever she thought of the heinous things the tango had done.
Estaria, Downtown Spire
“Okay, so just message me when you’re done,” Joel said as Molly slipped out of the pod in the middle of the alley.
“Cool. See you soon,” she called back to him.
The door slid closed and then the pod shot back up into the sky. She checked her holo. Lunchtime.
She stepped out of the alley, looking left, then right. The precinct was just one block to her right, and Chaakwa took her lunch at the place just a few blocks up to her left. Molly started off down the street, noticing how surreal it felt to be back in this world. After all she had seen. All she had done. All the places she had visited, so far away.
Space was starting to feel more normal to her than this life she had left behind.
As she walked, her mind flicked back to her childhood, and then to her time in the military. The events that had propelled her out of the military and into the meeting with Joel; the time at the safe house, and then running around this planet trying to get off world. It felt like it had been a million years since that first day in the bar, when she had gone to him for a job.
And now…
She looked up, watching the shop fronts pass by as she kept her eyes peeled for the little mocha shop where she would find Chaakwa. She spotted the sign just up ahead, and walked purposefully towards it.
Just outside, she stopped, letting a mother with a stroller leave through the double doors first. The little Estarian baby was giggling and gurgling away, a toy in his little hands. Molly smiled. This world seemed so alien to her. Like a dream she’d had once, but could barely remember.
She stepped through the doorway and headed over to the counter, keeping a lookout for Chaakwa. She didn’t see her.
“What can I get you?” the friendly barista asked from across the counter.
Molly looked up at the menu and sighed, remembering that she couldn’t have mocha. “I’ll have a tea, thanks,” she said, trying to keep the disappointment from her voice. After all, it wasn’t the barista’s fault.
She paid for her tea, and looked around at the seated patrons. Suddenly an arm appeared from behind a plant and a pillar. It was Chaakwa. Molly waved back with her fingers, careful not to draw too much attention to herself.
Once her tea was deposited on the counter, she scooped it up, and headed over to join her friend.
“Greetings,” she smiled, as she popped her mug on the table. Chaakwa got up and hugged her, taking her a little by surprise.
“Greetings. I was so pleased to get your message,” Chaakwa explained with a definite note of excitement. “I take it you have news? A lead?”
Molly sat down, quite content to get straight down to business. “I do. Well, a whole plan, in fact.”
Molly described the plan to Chaakwa. “There are six individuals that we know were directly involved,” she explained. She pulled up her holo and showed Chaakwa some mug shots they had pulled from various authorities. “This guy gave the order.” She pushed another image over to her. “This one pulled the trigger. This one is the head of the network that does this kind of thing, a lot, in the pursuit of their own power.” Molly showed her one picture after another.
“This one…” she said, her tone becoming a little more serious. “This one did a lot of the groundwork to find where your father was most vulnerable. He had files on you, too. Photographs of you in your apartment; probably as insurance, but also… we think maybe for his own pleasure.”
Chaakwa’s expression barely changed, though Molly could tell that the information was disturbing to her. She hesitated to tell her more, but then decided it was better that she knew.
Her tone was soft. Sympathetic, almost. “We found other footage on his holo drive of many women. Maya did a background check on them. All were violently assaulted and murdered. The police haven’t been able to connect the cases, because the MO was different each time - probably deliberately so. But this guy has been in and out of the system on suspicion of various things, and, basically, he’s not a good person. He’s served three sentences, and each time, has been released and gone on to commit more murders. More than even the police knew about.”
Her voice softened, wishing she could make it easier on Chaakwa.
Chaakwa took a deep breath as if accepting the situation, and processing it. “So…”
Molly’s face became more determined. “So, he’s going to go into that room, just like the other five… But he won’t be there for you and your friends to arrest. We’ll take care of him. But you mustn’t go looking for him. Nor share this with anyone.” Molly held her gaze. “Anyone,” she reiterated pointedly.
Chaakwa nodded her head, like a little girl in the head teacher’s office. She pushed the holoscreen back to Molly, who closed down all the images and put the holo away.
Chaakwa listened to her explain the plan in rapt attention, hardly believing that Molly’s team, in such a short time, had managed to not only track down all the relevant people, but also put together a workable mission.
Molly finished briefing her, and moved on to the next task: getting the names of friends of Chaakwa’s father who might help to make the arrest.
“This has to be a small team of people,” she qualified. “No current cops. You can’t trust any of them. They might be on the payroll, or we’ll be putting them in danger; out-of-service folks are probably less vulnerable. We’ll vet whomever you think you might want to use before we take action.”
Chaakwa agreed.
“And remember,” Molly told her, “I’m already dead.”
Detective Indius smiled. “And your team doesn’t even exist. We just got lucky with an anonymous tip.”
“Exactly,” Molly concurred.
Molly took down the names. The two women looked at each other, smiling, and clinked their drinks together.
* * *
“How did it go?” Joel asked as Molly stepped into the pod.
Molly hauled herself up into the pod, holding onto the grab bars on either side of the door. “Great,” she told him. “She was on board with all of it, and seemed to have taken the thing about the pictures well.
Joel helped her get settled before hitting the door button. “I suppose it helps, knowing that the man who has been stalking you is about to be disappeared,” Joel mused.
“This is true,” Molly agreed, looking out of the side window of the pod. “So, where are we going?” she asked, shaking off work for the day.
Joel gave a half grin, and looked a little sheepish. He ruffled his hair nervously. “I thought we might take a trip down memory lane, and head back to that bar over in the Irk’n Quarter in Uptarlung.”
Molly squinted with one eye, trying to place the name. “The one where we reconnected?”
Joel nodded. “Yeah. I thought it might be fun,” he added quickly.
Molly sat back and reached for her harness. “Hmm, funny. I was just thinking of that place when I was walking over to the mocha shop.”
Joel frowned a little as he tapped the location into the head up display. “Oh yeah?”
Molly clipped the straps together and settled back, crossing her legs and getting comfortable. “Yeah. And about how far we’ve come since that day. I mean, heck… we’re no longer outlaws, for one thing.”
Joel chuckled. “Speak for yourself. You were the only one who was ever an outlaw; and technically, if they knew you were breathing, you still would be!”
“Fair point,” Molly smiled, shrugging one shoulder and settling in for the ride.
Chenz’ Bar, Downtown Uptarlung, Irk’n Quarter
Not long after, they arrived at the bar.
Joel opened the door for Molly, and she stepped inside.
“Wow… it feels just the same,” she exclaimed in a near whisper.
Joel glanced around, his special skills detecting a disturbance in the force. “No, you know… I think they redecorated. I’m sure the carpets were darker before.”
Molly giggled and slapped the back of her arm against his body playfully.
Joel pretended it hurt, and then ushered her towards the bar. They ordered drinks and took a seat.
“So, this is… different,” he said, looking around and relaxing into the situation.
Molly bobbed her head, a little nervous now that they didn’t have the seriousness of missions and work to talk about. “Yeah. It’s… different,” she agreed, unable to find a more descriptive word for everything she felt in the moment.
Joel looked thoughtful. “You know, it kinda makes you wonder about what would have happened, had we not decided to do the whole skills-for-hire thing together, doesn’t it?”
Molly turned her lips down. “It does. Man, life couldn’t have been more different.”
Joel smirked at her dig at their choice of words. Then he leaned over the sticky little table, and rested his arms on it; something he knew straight away he would regret later. “What do you think you would have done?”
Molly shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe ended up on the street? Or worse, computing for a living.”
They both laughed.
A moment later, their drinks arrived, and they cheersed. “Don’t you have parents here, though?” he asked, taking a swig from the bottle and looking a little more serious.
Molly tilted her head to one side briefly, before straightening up and taking a sip of her own beer.
Joel noticed her reaction. “Okay. So conversations like that are off limits,” he noted to himself.
Molly smiled. “No. It’s just…”
Joel waited. She struggled to find words. Joel fiddled with the bottle between his hands. “You never talk about them. But they’re still alive, right?”
Molly nodded. “Yeah, they’re still here. It’s just I haven’t seen them for a very long time. And…” She clammed up.
Joel put the beer down, and pressed her a little more, without looking at her. “And what?” he said gently.
Molly tilted her head again. “Well, I don’t know how they would feel about seeing me again.”
Joel frowned. “They’re your parents. Whatever has happened, it wouldn’t change that.”
Molly raised her shoulders again, and studied the label on her beer, carefully avoiding eye contact.
Joel had another thought. “Hey, if you haven’t spoken to them since before you left, they probably think you’re dead.”
Molly bobbed her head.
The area around Joel’s eyes darkened a little. “You’ve considered that?” he asked, a slight frown playing across his forehead.
She nodded again with sadness in her eyes.
Joel shifted his beer bottle a couple of inches on the table. “Look,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “I don’t want to tell you how to run your life - ”
Molly smiled. “So don’t,” she said confidently, lifting her eyes to meet his.
He grinned, picking at the label on his beer. “But…” he continued, very aware he was going to say his piece despite her comment. “Don’t you think you should just let them know that you’re still alive? You know. A phone call. Or something. I’m not talking about going and spending the weekend, or anything; but just let them know that their little girl isn’t dead.”
His suggestion seemed to have an impact. Instead of putting up her shields and deflecting, for once she let his words in. She nodded ever so slightly, before picking up her beer and taking another swig.
Joel noticed, and marked it as a victory.
She put her beer down and wiped the condensation from her hand on her pant leg. “So, Oz and I have been thinking about other stuff that might be fun,” she said, allowing herself to change the subject.
Joel smirked good-humoredly at her tact. “Uh huh?” he grunted, sitting back in his chair; noticing that he was actually enjoying himself, just sitting and talking with her.
“Yeah,” she said. “We’re thinking about starting a university.”
Joel frowned. “Right…” he said slowly, not quite sure if he had understood correctly.
“Yeah,” she said. “To teach leaders how to be leaders.”
Joel smiled at the prospect, considering the source of the comment. “Okay.”
Molly noticed his smile. “What?” she said, hardly able to keep from smiling herself, at this point.
“Nothing,” he said, the hint of his smile growing into a full manifestation. He hid behind his beer bottle, taking another swig.
Molly saw that he was toying with her. “I’m serious. This could be really great,” she protested.
Joel tried to straighten his face. “Okay. Tell me. I’m clearly not understanding what you want to do.”
She shook her head, a little frustrated. “Yeah. I’m not talking about leadership boot camp, like the military teaches,” she explained, seeing where his thought process would be coming from. “I’m talking about something bigger. Imagine if the leaders of the world were all educated in things like diplomacy and negotiation. Imagine if they learned to put their personal feelings aside, and navigate toward solutions, rather than reacting out of pride or anger.”
Joel nodded in agreement.
Her beer bottle stood forgotten, and her hands started punctuating as she spoke. “And now imagine that they were shown things like how to reach peaceful agreements. There are lots of cases to study where nations have succeeded against the odds - with multiple internal problems, as well as foreign policy issues.”
Joel cocked his head, becoming more interested.
Molly found herself in a flow, talking about something she had been mulling quietly for some time. Something that she never thought would be a possibility - until her conversation with Oz. “And then imagine if they were versed in things like how to effectively govern, and distribute resources. How to make sure that no one race is suppressed or victimized. And then what if they spent time learning about how societies impact their physical environments, and how to preserve the resources, like the land and the water supply? How to not pollute their planets so that they have to go off and conquer others.”
She realized she’d been ranting. She quieted herself, folding her hands in her lap.
Joel was leaning forward, nodding vigorously. “That sounds fucking amazing!” he agreed. “And much needed, even within the Sark System.”
Molly sighed in relief at his acceptance. She picked up her beer bottle again, and started picking at the label. “Yeah. I think so. So that is where we start. Oz and I are going to see about getting a course going within one of the existing universities to start with; you know, just a small course, and then grow the faculty and reputation. Prove the concept. Build some connections and so on.” She bobbed her head as she spoke.
“Uh hmm…” Joel leaned back, looking off across the bar. A couple walked in and sat down a few tables over. They were canoodling and laughing. Joel was momentarily distracted. “It sounds wonderful… but doesn’t this kind of thing take a boatload of cash?”
Molly looked up at him. “Yeah. This is true. But Oz did a rundown of the companies, and there is definitely money in there we can pull. And then there’s my money…”
Joel pulled his attention back to her. “Your money?”
Molly bobbed her head. “Yeah. The trust fund.”
Joel did a double take. “The trust fund?” he asked.
Molly took a deep breath, almost scared to share this with him. “Yeah… I have a trust fund put aside. Something my parents gave me before I left home. It’s just… I never felt like I trusted myself to touch it. I mean, I didn’t want to just live off of it; I wanted to make sure that I was capable enough before I started trying to do something with it.”
Joel’s face softened, and Molly could see an aura of pink clouds around him. “You mean you wanted to make sure that you were good enough, before you allowed yourself to touch it?”
Molly nodded, a rush of emotion sweeping into her chest, and disorienting her thinking. She sat silently, waiting for it to pass and grappling for something to say - or something to distract them from the subject at hand.
But the brain fog had descended.
Joel pulled away from the cold, damp beer bottle and put his hand on hers. “You were always worthy of that money,” he told her. “But it’s nice to see that you’re starting to see that for yourself…”
Molly smiled weakly, and pulled her hand away. Overwhelmed, she suddenly needed to go to the bathroom. “I’ll be right back,” she announced. She trooped off, relieved to be away from the conversation that had gotten a little too intimate too quickly.
Indius Residence, Downtown Spire
“And are you sure about this tip?” Bob’s voice came through her implant clearly. She could hear the concern in the timbre.
Chaakwa nodded even though he couldn’t see her. “Certain,” she confirmed. “It’s a source I trust.”
The sark had started going down as she arrived home, and it had taken her several minutes to pluck up the courage to connect the call.
She heard Bob’s sigh of agreement. “Well, if you’re sure, I’m in. I’ll give Ron a call,” he told her solemnly.
Chaakwa flicked her eyes upward, and did a quick count in her head. “Okay, so that will make four of us,” she confirmed.
“Think we need anyone else?” he asked.
There was a pause on the line as Chaakwa ran through the possibilities in her mind.
“Chaakwa?” Bob pressed, wondering if the line had disconnected.
“No. We’ll be okay,” she told him. “I understand they’ll be in no shape to give us any problems by the time we show.”
She heard Bob’s tone change, as he prepared to end the conversation. “Okay, well, if you’re sure,” he chirped. Chaakwa could hear voices in the background, like someone had walked into the room and was chattering away.
“Yes. Thanks Bob. I appreciate you doing this with me,” she added.
The seriousness of Bob’s voice had left him, and he was talking as if they were just arranging a bowling match. “Hey, it’s what your father would have wanted. I’m glad we finally get to nail these sons of bitches.”
“Me too,” she agreed, pursing her lips together.
“Okay,” he said. “Well, call me if anything changes; otherwise, I’ll see you there tomorrow evening.”
Chaakwa looked out of her window, over at the cityscape against the fading light. “Will do. Thanks, Bob.”
The line clicked off, leaving her sitting alone in her darkened apartment.
She remained there quietly for a few minutes, lost in thought, when her eye fell on a picture she had on the sideboard - a picture of her and her father, when she was a little girl.
“This is for you, Dad,” she whispered into the darkness.
Chapter 13
Above a warehouse, Undisclosed location in Spire
Paige turned to Maya as they sat against a wall in the dusty loft of the warehouse. “I don’t understand. How is he getting them to come in?” she asked quietly.
Maya smiled. “Ah, a trick my father used once. He basically led them each to believe that someone was plotting against them, and let their paranoia and mistrust of each other fuel their actions. Pieter’s been working on the setup of the ruse since we got the green light a few days ago.”
Paige frowned, her blue skin catching in the low light of Estarian twilight. “So how do you get them to show at a specific time?”
Maya shrugged casually. “Different stories for each…” she said, keeping her voice super low so as not to draw attention from Joel, “but with vague enough messages that they fill in their own blanks. That way, if they talk to each other, their suspicions just get compounded. They might think there is a meeting going down that they’re gatecrashing, or that someone is plotting to take them out, or that they’re there to take someone else out.”
Maya grinned. “It’s basically a clusterfuck waiting to happen once they all get here.”
Paige’s eyes widened in a strange mixture of horror and delight; she knew what these men had done.
Jack, Joel, and Sean stood in one corner, talking in hushed voices. Their full protective gear weighed on them as they waited patiently for the go signal from Pieter.
Joel glanced over at the young guy intensely focused on his holo. “Looks like it’s working,” he remarked.
Sean cracked his knuckles. “Yeah. I’m looking forward to getting my hands on these pieces of shit.”
Joel glanced up at him. “Just remember that we’re here to do a job.”
Sean glared at him intensely. “I know,” he retorted. “I’ve been doing this since before you were even-”
Joel waved a hand. “Yeah, yeah. Before I was born. You’re the big bad.” Joel motioned with his hands, pretending to bow to his superior experience. Then he stopped. “So how much before I was born?” he asked, flipping the conversation around.
Jack smiled. “I heard that he served with General Reynolds way back in the day,” she said, watching Sean’s agitation grow.
Sean found his composure. “Yeah, I heard that rumor… just after I heard the one about how I married a Noel-ni, and got promoted to Chief of the Meredith Reynolds.”
For a second, Joel thought that they were about to get real insight into the past of Sean Royale; but then he realized that Sean was just toying with them.
“Guys…” Pieter called quietly across the loft space.
Joel headed straight over to where Pieter was sitting on the floor with his array of holoscreens. “Yeah. What’s up?”
Pieter pointed at one of the screens. “Your sixth guy is just arriving, through the side entrance. It’s locked, so my guess is he’s going to head around the back to the next one. The others are all in there, but they’re confused. A few of them have found each other.”
Joel peered more closely. “That’s the tango that was never here, right?” he confirmed, recognizing him from his mug shot.
Pieter nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been double-checking facial for each of them. He’s your guy.”
Joel scanned the other screens, giving them eyes on each of the other five. “Okay, great. And I guess this one,” he pointed, “is the big boss of the network?” he checked.
Pieter checked another screen, pulling up the facial recognition profile. “Yep. The suit might give it away, too, once you see him in person.”
Joel watched as two Estarians in one of the rooms started talking with each other. “Okay, we’d better get in there,” he said.
Joel turned to the others. “Okay. We’re good to go. Let’s move out.” He made his hand gesture to reinforce his words, and Sean and Jack started making their way down into the main warehouse.
Joel turned back to Pieter’s screens. “Looks like the handoff recipients are here, too?”
Pieter enlarged the screen to show Chaakwa and her late father’s police colleagues. “Yep. They’re here. They know to wait for the signal, but if anything changes, I have a line to her holo. And I’ll keep you in the loop.”
“Okay, great,” Joel muttered. He turned and left, leaving Pieter monitoring his screens as if nothing else in the world existed.
* * *
Three space cars showed up in the small warehouse parking lot, and four Estarians stepped out. One of them was a female wearing a suit and a protective vest. She immediately drew her firearm, and walked purposefully over to the main entrance.
The light was fading. It was time.
She strained her ears to hear inside, keeping her awareness on high alert. She took a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure they weren’t being followed.
The other Estarians also wore vests marked with the official precinct emblems on the collar. But these weren’t current police; they were veterans. Veterans from a time when you stuck with your own, no matter what; serving with someone made them as close to you as family. You had their back, and they had yours. No matter what.
And that was why they were here.
For family.
Bob caught up to Chaakwa, his firearm also drawn and ready. He whispered in her ear. “You sure it’s time?” he checked.
She shrugged. “We have to be close enough to hear the signal,” she told him.
He had a look of concern in his eyes. Concern for her. For what this whole experience might do for her. Or not, as the case may be.
He knew how he’d felt when he finally caught the guy who took his partner out twenty years ago. He had thought that it would make the pain go away, that it would put it right. But in the end, the bad guy ended up locked up, and his partner was still dead. That was just the way it was. Then the real battle began - the battle to deal with his feelings.
He looked at the young woman; a career, a life, still ahead of her. He hoped that for her it would be different.
Chaakwa turned, catching the eye of the other two vets behind them. She signaled for them to hang on before they took up their positions, acutely aware they didn’t want to thwart the getaway of the team delivering this victory.
Chaakwa kept her weapon quarter raised, checking the safety was still on as she started to move forward.
Inside the warehouse
Sean and Jack crept down the stairs along the back wall of the warehouse. Sean came gracefully to a halt mid-step, giving Jack the signal to hold. He pointed directly ahead of them at the target that had just walked in through the back door. Then he pointed to himself. Jack nodded.
They continued their descent silently, as if the volume had been turned off in a bubble around them. When they reached the ground, Sean kept moving forward, without looking back. Jack turned and headed into the main warehouse.
She swept her weapon left and right, scanning the area in front of her as she advanced, on alert for any signs of movement.
“Door on your right,” Pieter told her through her implant. She cautiously approached, keeping close to the near wall. “Two tangos. One has his back to the door,” he informed her.
Jack took another two paces and paused, listening intently. She could hear their muffled voices through the makeshift construction of the office divider. She breathed deeper and then moved, swinging effortlessly around the doorframe, and, in one movement, taking out the nearest target with a single round.
The guy dropped, and she waited until he was out of her firing line before popping off another round into the heart of the second guy. His eyes were wide as he collapsed like a sack of potatoes in a heap on top of his comrade.
Jack clicked her holo twice to let them know she’d taken down the two. A moment later, she heard another click. That was three. Probably Sean and his guy. She swung her attention around to advance into the main area.
She heard a click in her ear. She kept moving forward. That left two more. Just two more tangos, and they were on to phase two.
She emerged from the narrow area into the wide-open space in the middle of the warehouse. There were boxes and crates all over the place. Spotting a heavy-duty forklift truck, she stole away behind it, keeping herself from view.
There was a scuffling, and then a pause. Then another click.
One more, she counted.
She turned back, and could see Sean emerging from the corridor, following her through. They made eye contact, but there was nothing further to communicate. She didn’t have eyes on either Joel or the last bogie.
And then there was another click.
Sean’s gait changed from one of extreme stealth, to that of a casual surfer dude heading home from the beach. He flicked the safety on his weapon, and lowered the muzzle.
* * *
Joel headed down the second set of stairs by the front of the building. He knew he had to move faster or else the front of the building would be unsecured. He moved as rapidly as he dared without drawing attention. Every step, he risked the sound of his boots on the metal grid resonating in the air and alerting their targets to his location.
He calmed himself.
Come on, Dunham. You’ve done this a million times before. Stay cool…
He made it halfway down the stairs, and spotted movement just underneath him. One of the perps had hidden behind a stack of crates, to watch another one, who was oblivious to the presence of anyone else. He stood around like a duck waiting to be shot.
It would be easy to just pick him off right now, Joel mused. But that would alert at least this one guy to the fact that they were being taken out.
He lowered his weapon and continued down the stairs. Save playtime for the holo games, he chided himself. This is work time.
He found his way to the ground level, and followed the path he had traced from his higher position; through the aisle of boxed goods, in the direction of the hiding tango. Quietly, he approached.
Shit, this guy is just oblivious, he thought to himself.
Five paces out, he could see he was still distracted by the other guy. He was crouched, in a vulnerable position. Joel smiled to himself and pulled out the rag he had laced with chloral hydrate and shoved in his pocket, just in case.
Three paces out.
Joel held his breath, now praying the guy didn’t hear him. Didn’t sense him. Didn’t turn around.
Two paces out.
Joel’s heart was in his mouth. At this range, he didn’t have time to take off the safety and trank the guy; he’d have to smack him, and proceed with the chloral.
One pace.
Just one more step, he told himself. One. More.
Joel wound his hand around to the target’s face, and clamped the rag over his mouth and nose, while putting his gun hand against the back of his head. He pressed the rag tighter.
One monkey, two monkey, three-
The Estarian’s eyes rolled in his head, and all resistance melted. He went down, and Joel effortlessly released his grip.
Well, that worked. Now for tango number two.
He tapped his holo, sending a click to the others, and then crept back in the direction he had come, listening intently for any signs of life. He paused and stood straight, giving Pieter the signal that he could do with some guidance.
A moment later, Pieter’s voice was in his ear. “You’ve got one hovering just inside the entrance way. He’s on his holo. Distracted. Take a right behind those boxes in front of you, and you’ll see him.”
Joel nodded his thanks to the camera in the far corner and started moving again.
He carefully swung around to the right, and moved between the boxes. Then he saw the guy. It was an easy shot. He took it, and the guy collapsed. He clicked his holo again.
One more. The guy who is just standing in plain view.
Joel moved right again, heading into the main floor of the warehouse. He spotted his target, but then the Estarian turned and spotted him right back. His expression was one of shock, but before he could make a sound, Joel popped him twice in the chest.
The tango dropped to the deck, his legs folding underneath him as he was put under the trank’s sleeping spell.
* * *
Jack flicked her safety on and lowered her weapon before venturing out from behind the truck. Leading the way, with Sean coming up along the corridor behind her, she continued her path through the array of boxes and crates to find Joel standing over the last guy he had just hit with a tranquilizer.
He looked up at them. “I think I recognize this motherfucker,” he said thoughtfully. A hint of anger seemed to jar his jawline.
Sean came up next to Jack. “Where from?” he asked.
Joel bent down and poked the body with his foot. “Not sure,” he said, shaking his head. “You meet so many people in this game… Might have just seen him on the system when we were searching for jobs, or checking out our competition. But for some reason, he has me pissed.”
Sean shrugged. “Hmm. Well he’s going to be going away for a very long time, so you’ll have plenty of time to place him.”
Joel straightened up.
Jack interrupted their navel-gazing. “Where are the other two?” she asked.
Joel thumbed backwards. “Back there. Got one with some chloral.”
Jack frowned. “Why?” she asked confused. “Why not just stun him like we did the others?”
Joel shrugged. “Cuz I could. And I kinda wanted to see if it would drop him as fast. I think it was quieter than firing a shot.”
Sean nodded. “Riskier, though.”
Joel looked nonplussed. “Well, you know. Just experimenting. Need to keep evolving our game.”
Jack grinned. “Okay, ladies. Let’s get this wrapped up.”
They all turned to retrieve their sleeping beauties, and execute phase two of the plan.
Rooftop across the street from the warehouse
I should be there with them.
You’re meant to be dead, remember?
Yeah, but you took care of that.
Five of those guys are going into the system. Last thing we want are rumors, even in the prison system, of a phantom vigilante.
I think my exclusion has more to do with Joel trying to keep me out of harm’s way.
So what if it does?
I’m the leader. I’m meant to be leading from the front.
No. You’re the leader, and they need you alive. You die, and this whole team falls to pieces.
…
You’re feeling guilty about Giles?
Yes, I am. He’s rotting in some cell, maybe already dead, because I was a shit leader and I let him risk his life so that we could take out Shaa.
You made a command decision. And besides, he wasn’t taking ‘no’ for an answer. Even the General ended up letting him go.
The General has to think of the good of the Federation.
And now, so do you.
Not above my team. These guys come first.
Interesting how you’re thinking of Giles as your team…
Whatever, Oz. Let’s stay focused. Is that Chaakwa moving in?
Molly raised her holo to her eyes, and took a view through the telescope app.
Tell her to move back from those doors. They’re not done yet… it’s not safe.
* * *
Chaakwa headed up the steps, toward the front doors to the reception area. She approached slowly, knowing full well what she might be walking into.
Bob followed closely behind her, peering in through the windows as best he could from his vantage point.
She stopped dead. She could see a group of people through the doors, and there were a number of Estarians on the floor.
They looked dead.
Or at least unconscious.
She felt her chest tighten as reality dawned on her. This is actually happening, she thought, as her feet automatically moved her closer. She stood, mesmerized; the whole scene feeling surreal, like a dream. Or an alternate reality.
She couldn’t make out the faces of the three figures that stood around those that had been captured, but she had a flash of recognition of some of the Estarians on the floor.
Suddenly her holo buzzed, pulling her back to the here and now. She glanced down.
STEP BACK FROM THE DOORS AND AWAIT THE SIGNAL. UNSAFE TO PROCEED AS YET.
It was from an unknown sender.
But knowing who she was involved with, she immediately knew it was someone on the team. Maybe even Molly herself.
Chaakwa gathered her wits and moved back, indicating for Bob to follow her. He did without question. They backed up about fifty yards before they stopped.
Bob glanced over at her. “Too soon?” he asked.
“Too soon,” she confirmed.
Inside the warehouse
Joel looked down at the six stuppered tangos. “Sean, want to take out the trash?” he offered.
Sean grinned. “It would be my pleasure,” he responded, grabbing the infamous tango number six by the scruff of his neck, and hauling him away from the group easily.
Joel looked satisfied that they were going to make a difference today. “Well then, I suppose it’s-” His attention was pulled from the group. They were gathered just inside the building where they had their prisoners bound, but he sensed movement at the door, and spun around to see two figures through the window.
He recognized one as Chaakwa, and there was a second person behind her.
“Shit,” he said. “Pieter?” he called into his audio feed.
“Already on it. Oz is telling her to fall back,” Pieter responded over the shared channel.
Joel waited, watching them move away from the door. “Hope they didn’t see anything,” he said. When he was satisfied they were gone, he looked down again at their captives, noticing one of them was coming to.
“Okay, looks like a win for the chloral hydrate,” he said, looking pleased that his impulsive action was actually paying off. “We need someone to scream,” he explained for the benefit of the waking low-life. “That’s the signal.” He grinned and chivalrously opened his hand to Jack. “Would you like to do the honors?” he offered.
Jack smiled, pulling out her weapon. “It would be my pleasure,” she replied, flicking the weapon into live rounds mode and removing the safety.
The tango’s eyes widened at the realization of what was going on.
Sean picked up his perp, and slung him over his shoulder, then started walking purposefully in the direction of the back door. Joel followed, patting Jack on the shoulder as he passed her.
Jack grinned, looking down on her prey. It had been a long time since she had gotten to put some pain onto some bad people. She was going to relish this moment.
* * *
Outside, Chaakwa and Bob stood back as if holding a half-assed, invisible perimeter around the building. Bob shifted his weight. “Are you sure we haven’t missed the signal?” he asked gently.
Chaakwa shook her head, taking her hand from her poised weapon just long enough to swipe a strand of hair back around her ear. “I’m - ”
There was a gunshot from within the building, and then a blood-curdling shout of pain.
Chaakwa signaled to the other two to head around the back, and she and Bob charged the doors.
Inside the warehouse
No sooner had she fired the shot, Jack was on the move, running through the warehouse to meet the other two teammates out back.
Sean was already in one pod with the unconscious tango number six. Joel was waiting for her in the other pod. She bounded up to him and jumped in, holstering her weapon as she turned around and hung on. The pods lifted up in tandem out of the sight line of the two retired cops just rounding the corner of the warehouse.
Jack sat down and strapped in as the pod door finished closing. A moment later, they shot up into the stratosphere, on their way to execute phase three.
Joel tapped his holo to connect with Molly. She answered, her voice calm and subdued.
“It’s done,” he told her.
“Great job,” she replied. “And thank you. This will mean a lot to Chaakwa.”
Joel nodded. “Of course. We’re off to dispose of some garbage, but we’ll see you back at Gaitune shortly?”
“Yes,” she agreed, her voice sounding distant.
Joel sensed something wasn’t right. “You okay?” he asked. Jack glanced over at him, realizing that something else might be going on.
Molly stood on the rooftop, watching the various trucks and teams show up. “Fine,” she told him. “Just thinking. I may be a while here.”
Joel wasn’t convinced that everything was ‘fine,’ but there was little he could do until they completed the mission. “Okay. Well, look, just stay out of sight, and get yourself off-world ASAP. You hear?”
Molly smiled to herself. “Who are you, my mom?”
Joel chuckled. “No, but you’re not too - ” He stopped himself. “Just get back to base, yeah? And we’ll talk.”
Molly muttered something in acknowledgment, and the line closed off.
Joel sat back in the pod.
Jack glanced over. “Everything okay?” she asked.
Joel winced a little. “I think so… but I’ll be happier when we get this wrapped up.”
The pods shot down onto their second location just as the last sliver of light disappeared on the horizon.
* * *
There was a bang as the door flew open, and two armed policemen ran in, sweeping the area.
They entered to find the five people they had been tracking for years - all in a circle, bound at their wrists and feet.
“Where’s the other one?” Bob asked, following Chaakwa into the central area.
Chaakwa was careful to keep her face turned from him. “What other one?” she asked casually.
Bob frowned, holstering his gun. “I’m sure I counted six perps when we looked in the windows.”
Chaakwa shook her head decisively. “Nope,” she said definitively. “No. We’ve got everything we came for.”
She put her gun away and signaled to the others. “Let’s get these guys taken into custody and back to the precinct. They’ve got a lot of talking to do.”
The other police officers pulled the criminals to their feet and took them outside to their trucks.
Chaakwa opened a holo call as she watched them leave. “Greetings. I need transport for five prisoners. And send a cleanup team. We’ve just performed a bust as a result of an anonymous tipoff.”
She paused, listening in her audio implant. “No. No witnesses… Yes, one has a gunshot wound, so if you must send an ambulance, we can work with that.”
She finished her call and turned back to survey the scene in stunned disbelief that, finally, after all these years, it was over.
Rooftop across from the warehouse, Downtown Spire
Molly watched as the press arrived: individuals, and a couple of news trucks. She watched the police cordon off the area, and set a perimeter to keep prying eyes, and evidence-destroying feet, out of the way.
It was getting cold now that the sark had gone down. She contemplated sitting in the pod; but then she’d miss everything that was going on. She’d miss the sandy air. The buzz of the traffic. The office lights coming on in buildings across from the one she stood atop.
No. She wanted to experience it all. Just because. And because on Gaitune, there was nothing.
Well, not nothing. But nothing like this.
She sighed, thinking again of Giles.
How much longer do you think it’s going to take him to get free?
I haven’t enough data to make that estimation. Arlene thinks it could be several more weeks.
Several more weeks of captivity? We have to do something. Let’s set up a meeting with the team for tomorrow. Maybe we can find a solution.
Okay. But Arlene has been insistent that we leave them to it.
Well, maybe Arlene needs to understand that she doesn’t get her way every time.
Meow.
Molly observed the chaos below turn into order as two figures arrived in front of where the press had been gathered.
Can we get ears on what’s happening down there?
Yeah, I can tap one of the recorders.
Thanks, Oz.
“Ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for being here. Tonight marks the occasion of something I never thought that we’d see in this city: the arrest of five of the city’s best-known criminals, who have escaped arrest for too long. Today, we took them into custody, and we intend to charge them to the fullest extent of the law.”
Molly listened closely while watching the scene below.
She makes a good statement.
Yes. I’ve heard she’s on track for a promotion. She’ll have her own precinct in no time.
Was that us?
She may have had a little help.
Is that ethical?
Yes. I merely compensated for some of the patterns that I’ve seen happening against her as a result of the corruption. The previous captain kept her back; that cost her three years. Then there was the partner who was sabotaging her investigations. That cost her five -
You’re kidding?
Nope.
Molly tried to imagine what it must have been like for her.
Then there’s the fact that she is female in a paramilitary organization, where -
Molly shook her head. I can only imagine.
Let’s just say she is due to get caught up on her promotions.
I’m not going to argue with that, then.
Chaakwa’s voice continued to stream through Molly’s implant. “I’d like to extend a special thank you to my colleagues at the precinct for supporting this long-term investigation, as well as our veterans, who came back from retirement to help investigate the tip.”
Chaakwa indicated to the three older guys who were standing at the top of the steps with her, still wearing their vests so they were identifiable as cops.
They nodded across to her, swelling with the same kind of pride they had about their glory days. Today was a gift to them. Not just because they brought their friend’s, their captain’s, killers to justice, but because they felt what it was like to get out into the city and serve again.
Chaakwa noticed Bob wipe at his face, and then look down. She guessed that the old guy was tearing up.
She looked back out into the crowd of press that had assembled over the past hour, and continued with her statement. When she was done, she stepped away from the microphone that had been erected by the news crews, and started to move back towards Bob and the others.
Just then, she had a feeling she was being watched. She raised her eyes upward, to the roofs of the buildings nearby. She could have sworn she saw the figure of a woman caught in the light reflected from the structures around her.
She blinked and looked harder, but, dazzled by the lights of the press and the activity around her, she couldn’t find the silhouette again.
“Thank you, Molly,” she whispered under her breath. She paused for a moment more, wanting to see her again - but if she had been there, she was gone now.
Chapter 14
Kitchen, Gaitune-67
“Well, I, for one, am pleased we got a win,” Sean announced into the silence of the kitchen. Everyone else had their mouths full of cheesy comfort and nourishment.
Maya pulled her slice of pizza away from her face, trying to break the bond of mozzarella and clear her palette so she could concur. She managed a half-discernible “me too,” before resigning herself to more chewing.
Paige hadn’t sat down to eat yet. Instead, she was fluttering around the kitchen, making sure everyone had everything they needed.
Maya noticed, and this time managed to empty her mouth to speak. “Hey, why have you still got your jacket on?” she asked.
Paige spun round, a little flushed. “Erm. I’m… on my way out.”
Maya frowned instantly. Pieter, who was sitting at the table with his back to Paige, spun around with tomato on his bottom lip. “You’re going out?” he asked her, hardly believing the blasphemous words spoken on pizza night.
Paige straightened up and put a look of determination on her face. A second later, the determination crumbled. “I have a date,” she confessed, her bottom lip shaking a smidge.
Maya’s face lit up. “You dark horse!” she exclaimed. As soon as she could dump her pizza on her plate and wipe her hands, she was on her feet and around the table, hugging Paige.
Sean looked up, amused. He and Joel exchanged impressed looks.
Pieter looked put out. “How come you have a date? We don’t meet anyone here.”
Paige blushed again, her chest crumpling in on her. “I, er… I met someone on the net,” she admitted. “He’s probably a lunatic. And I’m sure he doesn’t look like his picture, but…” She shrugged.
Maya rubbed the side of her arm brightly. “It’ll be great. I’m sure he’ll be interesting. Ignore them. They’re just jealous they’ve been on this rock the same amount of time, and haven’t managed to get dates.”
Brock exchanged a telling look with Crash, who kept his attention on cutting up some pizza before shoving it in his mouth, so he couldn’t be drawn into conversation. Brock smiled knowingly, and swung his head from side to side with a look of mock innocence in his eyes.
Paige fussed a little more with some napkins and empty pizza boxes.
“Leave it,” Maya told her excitedly. “Go have your date. And then come back and tell me everything!” she commanded, marching Paige out of the door. They disappeared together through the foyer.
Pieter looked over at Molly who was watching quietly. “Did you know about this?” he asked her, almost accusingly.
Molly shook her head, her expression deadpan. She went back to her pizza.
Did you know about it, Oz?
Yes, I did.
Hmm.
I don’t see that she’s in any danger. I took the liberty of doing a background check on her suitor. Nothing interesting or untoward, that I can see.
Okay. Sounds fine, then.
You don’t mind that I didn’t tell you?
Of course not. She’s allowed a life. And a private one. As long as she’s safe, she can see whomever she likes. She doesn’t need our permission.
Quite.
Pizza-eating and chatting continued; although, most of the rest of the conversation revolved around how Paige had managed to get a date, where her date might be taking place on this rock, and, of course, the more delicate issue of the prospect of any of them finding true love with the life they now lead.
There were a few awkward glances in Molly’s direction, from more than one team member, but Molly was careful to avoid any kind of incriminating eye contact for the rest of the dinner.
After they were done and had cleaned up, each of them excused themselves to play video games, hit the gym, or do some other thing.
Molly made her way down to the ops room. Alone.
Gaitune-67, Hraðlestin Restaurant
Paige took a deep breath and pushed the button to the airlock on the restaurant door. The door slid open, and she stepped inside. A moment later, the next door opened and permitted her to pass into the foyer.
The scent of curry floated over to her, instantly making her calmer. And hungrier.
“Good evening, miss,” the maître d’ greeted her. “Table for…?”
Paige flushed nervously. “Erm… I’m here to meet a friend,” she said, glancing around the small restaurant behind him.
She spotted a male Estarian with his back to her. He looked slim and athletic, and she realized she wouldn’t be disappointed if that was him.
“He may be here already,” she said, glancing more deliberately in the direction of the young man.
Just then, a woman appeared, presumably having used the facilities, and she sat down at the table with the guy Paige had been looking at.
The maître d’ turned to see where she was looking, and then glanced around the restaurant. As he did so, another customer waved his arm in the air, catching their eye.
Paige exhaled quietly in relief. It was the guy she’d been video calling with. She chided herself for being so anxious, but reasoned that people weren’t always the way they were on video.
The greeter gestured for her to follow him, and led her through into the dimly lit restaurant, carrying menus.
Her date stood up as she approached: Estarian, medium build, with a relaxed, almost causal feel to him. He reached out to hug her as she arrived at the table.
The maître d’ placed the menus on the table, and left the couple to it.
“You weren’t kidding when you said you were human-small,” he said, beaming down at her.
She grinned. “Yeah, I thought it was best to forewarn you… in case you like your women tall.” She shook her head, recognizing how silly and superficial this dating thing was on first meeting.
“Well,” he grinned welcomingly, “It wouldn’t matter to me,” he told her. He invited her to sit down, and she slid into the chair opposite him.
“Let me get you a drink,” he offered, waving to the waiter who was standing over by the kitchen doors. Paige picked up a menu and started to peruse it.
“What will you have?” he asked.
Paige couldn’t see where the drinks were. “Oh, I’ll have… a beer, I guess,” she said, seeing that he was drinking some kind of draught.
He grinned. “You like beer?”
She nodded.
He turned to the waiter. “Let’s get her one of these to try.” The waiter nodded and disappeared. “If you like beer, you’ll like this,” he explained.
Paige smiled, scrambling in her mind for a conversation that might be interesting to him. “So, tell me more about the work you do here, Carl?” she suggested.
Carl looked a little self-conscious and ruffled his hair anxiously before putting his arms on the table, and leaning in. “Well, I run a shipping company. Which sounds kinda dull, but when you consider it is a secretive and secure shipping company, it becomes a lot more exciting.”
Paige narrowed her eyes playfully. “If it’s a secret, why are you telling me?” she asked.
Carl chuckled. “Because I want you to like me, and I figure that if a smart woman like you is going to like me, I should start off by telling you the truth.”
Paige felt a bit odd. She wasn’t used to this much attention from a guy who had his wits about him. Nor was she used to this level of honesty. “Well… er… great!” she said, not quite knowing how to respond. “So, I take it that keeps you occupied?”
Carl nodded, rearranging his utensils on the tablecloth. “Yeah, mostly. I mean, there’s a lot of research and coordination… But the team handles most of the ops. I just get my hands dirty with the cyber security,” he confessed.
Paige grinned. “Oh, that’s awesome. My friends on the team I work with are cyber-geeks too.” She clamped her hand over her mouth, realizing that not everyone appreciated being called a ‘geek’.
Carl waved his hand. “It’s cool, I’m down with being a geek.” He winked at her.
The waiter returned with her beer. She thanked him, and picked it up. Carl lifted his glass too, and they toasted. “Here’s to new geeky friends,” he said brightly.
“To new friends,” Paige repeated, clinking glasses with him.
They sipped their beer. “Oo. This is good!” she cooed excitedly.
Carl smiled at her enthusiastically. “Right? I couldn’t believe it when I found it here. Last time I had this was on Ogg.”
“Oh, you’ve lived on Ogg?” she asked.
They got embroiled in a conversation about his time on Ogg, and her manufacturing business, and so many other things, they almost forgot to order food.
* * *
Several hours later, having eaten and chatted the entire evening, they were still enjoying themselves. Carl waved for the check and paid.
“You know, Paige,” he told her. “I’m so glad you agreed to come out with me. I mean, I don’t know if you know this, but the chance of meeting such an accomplished woman in a city is pretty slim; but out here on this rock…” His voice trailed off, but his smile remained bright.
Paige lowered her eyes, a little embarrassed. “I’m just a glorified secretary,” she admitted.
Carl frowned. “No, you’re not. You’re an interplanetary businesswoman. And it sounds like you’re also the glue that holds that team together. And even though you can’t tell me what it is the team does, it sounds like it’s pretty high-powered and intense at times.” He watched her, observing how self-conscious she was under the surface of her easy ways and entertaining conversation.
“You know what I think?” he offered.
Paige leaned on the table, pushing her half empty mocha out of the way. “What do you think, Carl?” she grinned a little bashfully.
He leaned forward conspiratorially. “I think that you’ve forgotten to upgrade the picture you have of yourself,” he told her.
Paige frowned. “On my profile?” she asked, thinking how old the picture was she was using.
He shook his head. “Nah-ah. I’m talking about the pictures you have inside your mind,” he explained, tapping his own temple. “Your self-perception.” He paused, taking a last swig of his beer. “I think you seriously underestimate what you’re doing, and what you’re capable of,” he added.
Paige tilted her head, considering his words. Slowly, she started nodding her head. “You know what?” she said. “I think you may be right.” A relaxed smile spread slowly across her lips, lighting up her face.
Carl put his glass down on the table. “I know I am,” he added confidently, looking deeply into her eyes.
Paige flushed; stunned both by the revelation, and that someone was actually seeing her.
“I hope you’ll allow me to take you out again sometime very soon?” Carl ventured.
Paige’s eyes widened. “Of course!” she almost laughed. “I’d really like that, Carl. You’re fascinating and fun and… Yes. I’d like that.”
They finished their drinks and parted ways outside the restaurant. All the way back to the base, Paige played and replayed the highlights of the evening’s conversations.
Gaitune-67? she thought. Try Cloud-frikkin-9!
Chom-X9, Giles's prison cell
There was a clunk at the door. Giles lifted his head, and looked over his shoulder as he lay on his rack.
He heard the familiar sound of the keypad.
Beep, beep beep… Beep.
Over the last several weeks, he’d contemplated the different keystroke combinations it could have been. Of course, all that would become irrelevant if it wasn’t even a human digit code. It came down to a combination on the array that was easy to reach in the spaced repetition of the beeps.
He sighed, sitting up as the door slid open.
An ugly Zhyn guard, with a face chiseled by years of resentment, stepped into the cell with him. His friend put a foot in the doorway to prevent the door from sliding back.
“You’re up, pretty boy,” he said, holding out the cuffs and neck brace.
Giles shuffled off the bunk, over the metal ledge that dug into his thighs as he moved. He stood up, straightening himself out, ready for his manacles.
He eyed the neck brace. “Is that really necessary?” he asked, more as a test of the dynamic than wanting rid of it. Though it was uncomfortable. And threatening - knowing he could be shocked at any moment.
The guard didn’t answer. He just moved forward and clipped the round frame around his neck like a dog collar. Then he roughly turned Giles around to cuff his hands.
Giles kept his temperament neutral. He knew when to push and when to conserve his energy.
The guard grabbed his ill-fitting shirt, and tugged him towards the door.
“Where are we going today, boys?” Giles asked congenially.
The second guard, who was waiting by the door, responded. “Boss wants to see you up top,” he told him simply.
Giles nodded. “Probably wants my opinion on his next move,” he said nonchalantly, watching for any reactions out of the corner of his eye.
The ugly guard pushed him forward, and followed him out the door, fake laughing. “And why would he want your opinion?” he scoffed.
Giles stopped in his tracks and turned to face the Zhyn. “Why would he keep inviting me up there to talk with him? What do you think we do for all those hours?” He held the guard’s stare, planting the seed of doubt in his tiny brain. Then, a moment before he thought he might be pushing it, he relented and turned on his heels, walking with an air of civility after the second guard.
Point to Kurns, he thought smugly to himself. Oh, yes. I may be the one in physical chains, but at least I’m not chained by my personality and fears.
* * *
There was a beep at the door, and Shaa called for them to enter. Giles was pushed through first, followed by the two meatheads.
“Good day to you, Lord High Marshall Shaa,” Giles started, more for the benefit of the guards than for his relationship with Shaa.
Shaa grunted, and signaled to the seats he had set out. The guards pushed Giles over to them, and he managed to stumble a little ahead and sit of his own volition.
Giles nodded to the guards as if dismissing them, and then turned his attention to Shaa. “So what would you like to discuss today?” he asked.
Shaa waved the guards to leave, and they clunked out of the room, exchanging questioning looks about the dynamic they had just witnessed. Giles crossed his legs casually, leaning back in the hard wooden chair.
Shaa wandered over to sit near him, in a more comfortable, ergonomically enhanced chair. “It looks like there is an opportunity to invade the Kroll system.”
Giles looked serious all of a sudden. “The Kroll System? What use would that be to you?”
Shaa puffed his chest a little. “Well, it would be a coup in that it’s Federation-controlled space. And it would be fairly easy to take with the forces I’ve amassed already.”
Giles rubbed his chin. “Hmm. I’m… I’m not sure what advantage it would be to you, though.”
Shaa looked curious. “How do you mean?” he asked gruffly.
Giles pretended to look casually thoughtful. “Well, it will take resources to go at it, right? You’d have to commit troops and ships.”
“Of course,” Shaa confirmed.
Giles continued, shifting in his seat to try and get a little more comfortable. “And those troops and ships will be there, having to defend that area from the Federation taking it back. You’d have no one to guard here, if you commit those.”
Shaa leaned up a little. “But no one knows we’re here.”
Giles pulled back on his arrogance to respond. “I found you, didn’t I?” He carefully balanced his tone.
Shaa wasn’t offended. “Yes, but you’re clever,” he said, with a twinkle in his eye.
Giles smiled bashfully, and then turned his expression to one more serious. “And the Federation has lots of clever people… which means you need to be smart. Much smarter than them.”
Shaa Harrumphed and sat up, perching on the edge of his seat. “Of course you’re trying to stop me - ”
Giles relaxed his shoulders a little more, trying to show he had no stake in the game. “No, no. I mean, if you want to do it, then great. I’m behind you. But… let me ask you this. What is your end game?”
Shaa’s face lit with passion as he pumped one fist into the palm of his other hand. “I want the Federation to suffer. I want the Zhyn Empire to be free again. I want to return the power to those who deserve it.”
Giles nodded, pretending to listen carefully, his therapist face on. He was aware that he was just getting the official propaganda that the commander normally trotted out to his people. “Great,” Giles ventured. “So what strategic advantage does it give you to control the Kroll space?”
The Zhyn fell silent; he was feeling stupid, but searching for a way to hide it. To regain his posture. His face crumpled up, and Giles could see the anger boiling up around his straining neck. Shaa muttered something under his breath as he rose from his chair and paced across his office, but Giles couldn’t make it out.
Giles waited, counting in his head. One Jah-Dune. Two Jah-Dune. Three Jah-Dune. Then he spoke.
“I mean, I can see why it’s an exciting opportunity,” he began sympathetically.
He paused, pretending to think. “Although… how did you come by this information; the intel that led you down this path of thought?”
Shaa turned back to Giles, a look of frustrated confusion on his face. “I… I… My people told me that they were - ”
Giles looked down into his lap, somewhat constrained by the cuffs holding his wrists behind him.
“What?” Shaa asks.
Giles looked up, an innocent but serious look in his eye. “Nothing…” he said, deliberately hesitating.
Shaa scowled. “What?” he said more forcefully.
Giles frowned to himself. “It’s… It’s probably nothing. I’m just being paranoid.”
Shaa took a step closer, his scowl not letting up.
Giles relented. “Okay, it’s just a thought that occurred to me. What if the Federation wanted you to think that area would be worth attacking?”
Shaa waited.
Giles continued. “Well, they might choose a place that was of little strategic advantage, lure you out there with the rumors it was lightly guarded, and then set a trap. Or, at the very least, have you overcommitted there, not guarding your base, so they can swoop in and…” He let the thought carry itself.
Shaa seemed to get the picture. He nodded, relieved that he was clever enough to have seen it coming. “Yes! Those sneaky assholes. But I’m too smart for them. I won’t be drawn into -”
Giles’s expression was still solemn.
Shaa noticed. “There’s something else?”
Giles lowered an eyebrow, turning his head awkwardly. “Well… I’m just wondering. Who specifically gave you this information?”
Shaa waved one hand dismissively. “Why, Davon, of course.”
“Davon,” Giles repeated deliberately. “Daaaaaa-von,” he said again, drawing the name out quietly, luring Shaa in.
Shaa took the bait.
“Why? What are you thinking?” he asked, his frown turning to an expression of mistrust and curiosity.
Giles used his therapist voice, and kept his tone flat. “You tell Davon everything?”
Shaa nodded once, decisively. “Yes, he’s my - wait a minute. You don’t suspect that Davon is a traitor, do you?”
Giles shook his head dismissively. “No no. I’m sure he’s as loyal as the day you met. He’s never given you any reason to doubt him, I’m sure.” Giles looked in the direction of the windows, able to see only a glimpse of the panorama from where he was situated.
“How did you get on with that other issue we discussed?” he asked, changing the subject, knowing that his mere suggestion would work its way like a worm into Shaa’s paranoid psychosis.
Chapter 15
Chom-X9, Giles’s Prison Cell
It was the middle of the night. Well, that’s what Giles assumed, based on the fact that he was fast asleep when it happened.
At first, he couldn’t be sure. There was a bang in his dream, but then as he came back to the reality of his metal cell, it echoed in his mind as if it might have come from this world.
He listened, waiting for another sign that he wasn’t just dreaming.
He often dreamed of being rescued - of all of his isolation and discomfort finally being over. He dreamed of seeing Arlene, or the General’s team, bust through the door to his cell, and reclaim him into the comfort of civilization. And books.
Oh, how he missed his -
BANG.
Bash, bash… Bash.
SLAM.
A sound like the slamming of a door rang through the cell. But it wasn’t his door. It must be next door, the cell next to him.
He heard voices. He recognized the tone of the guards; the low, gruff grunting they made as they barked their orders at their subordinates.
Then there was a cry. A lighter-sounding voice. Still Zhyn, but it was someone who didn’t have any control. It sounded like pleading. Begging. Reasoning.
And then the guards’ footsteps walking away down the corridor.
Giles was up on his feet, listening intently. He put his ear to the wall on the side he thought the noise was coming from. It didn’t help. He stood back and waited.
Then there was a banging on what was probably the next door, and someone calling for help.
Giles moved quietly across the cold floor in his dirty, bare feet. “Hello?” he called through the door.
The banging stopped.
“Hello?” he called again.
There was a sniffling. “Hello?” the voice responded. “Are you a prisoner here, too?”
Giles’s heart leapt. The only people he had spoken to over the last several weeks of captivity were the guards and Shaa. “Yes. Yes I am,” he said, perhaps a little too enthusiastically for an outsider to understand. “Who are you?”
The voice responded a little cautiously. “My name is Anton d’Zyll. I came here to join the cause. But for some reason they won’t have me. They’re calling me a traitor.”
Giles tilted his head in a half-shrug. “Well, technically, if you’re here, you are,” he pointed out, amusing even himself.
Anton was quiet. Giles could just about make out his breathing. He visualized him looking around his cell, trying to fathom how on earth he had gotten here. It was exactly what Giles had gone through.
How did I get here?
What events led to this point?
How could I have been so stupid?
Am I being punished by one of the gods or spiritual overlords I’ve offended in my travels?
He’d been through it all before realizing, after a few weeks, the ‘why’ wasn’t important. He was here. This was it. This was his reality right now.
This is what he had to work with.
He waited, allowing the new prisoner to acclimatize. And then, after a few moments of consideration, he padded back over to his bed and lay down. Waiting.
Gaitune-67, Operations Room, 43 days after dropping off Giles
Molly strode into the operations room, allowing the lights to come on automatically as a result of her movement. This was a ritual she’d been doing several times a week for over a month; ever since the celebratory pizza dinner after the Chaakwa case.
She carried with her a lemon tea - a sad and constant reminder of her sabbatical from mocha. She made her way to her usual console, and placed the antigrav mug on the ledge where she didn’t need to wave her hands. She prodded a few keys, and then sat back to wait.
“Greetings of the day, Gaitune!” A woman’s voice chirped through her earpiece before the holoscreen opened up.
“Greetings upon you, Arlene. How goes it over there?” Molly was pleased with herself for engaging in social chitchat. She’d been forcing herself to start and finish with something personable, and noticed that people actually bothered to respond in kind. She still felt it was superfluous, but Joel had assured her it was appreciated.
Arlene’s image opened up in front of her. “Oh, it’s going okay. Giles is in good spirits today. He was given an extra meal by the guard. I think he’s made a friend.”
Molly felt a wave of sadness flood through her chest. It was her fault he was in there, no matter what Arlene told her. Molly picked up her mug and took a sip of the tea. “Any sign of him getting out soon?” she asked.
It was the same question she had been asking on and off for the last forty something days.
Arlene bobbed her head while moving it side to side ever so slightly at the same time. Molly could read her. She was being optimistic, but didn’t really believe they were any closer. “He’s making progress,” she told Molly. “It seems that they’re still having semi-regular chats.”
Molly frowned. “What have they been talking about this week?”
Arlene became vague. “Oh, you know. Military strategy. How Shaa can tell if he should trust his men… Mostly Giles is just an impartial sounding board.”
Molly shook her head as she listened. “And you sit through all this?” she asked.
Arlene nodded. “Oh yeah. Have to. It’s all part of what we do. Although most of it is drivel, it gives us insight into how to manipulate him.”
Molly sighed. “And so what are we looking for? I mean, to what end? Let’s face it. It’s not ever going to get to the point where Giles is going to be able to say, ‘Hey, be a good chap and let my people come and pick me up,’ is it?”
Arlene looked like she had been jarred out of her routine answers. “Well, no.”
Molly raised her shoulders and then dropped them again. “So, what, then?”
Arlene sat back a little in her console chair over on the ArchAngel. “We’ll just stay alert for an opening,” she explained. “It’s all we can do.”
Molly wrinkled her nose disapprovingly. “It’s been a month and half he’s been in that hellhole. We need to do more than look for an opening. I’ve got the team working on other options, but we need Giles to find something we can use.”
Arlene nodded. “Well, he’s gathering intel all the time, and ADAM is compiling a plan of the facility as Giles can reach different areas.”
Molly frowned again. “Is there nothing we can do in terms of hacking the system to get access to the whole schematics of the place?”
Arlene glanced ahead of her, looking beyond the camera. “I’m not sure. I’m assuming that ADAM is doing everything he can.”
Molly sat forward on her invisible console chair cum sofa. “Well, I’m a fan of AIs, as you know, but maybe there is something else we can do. Can you have a word with ADAM, and see if he can send us over whatever he has right now? Oz and I will take a look. It may be that it will help us with what we’re working on at this end,” she explained, careful not to infer that she thought that the world’s oldest and most evolved AI wasn’t up to the task.
Arlene nodded. “Sure. I’ll pass it on to him,” she agreed.
Molly changed the subject. “Great. Anything else since we last spoke?”
Arlene shook her head, but then remembered something. “Oh, yes. I told him what you said about the grindle-beast…”
“And?”
“And he says that you need to look up the mythology of Sark. He couldn’t believe you hadn’t read about it. He called you a heathen!” Arlene smiled with genuine humor and affection for Giles.
Molly scoffed, nearly choking on her lemon tea. “You tell him from me that not all of us are social voyeurs. And not all of us have spent the last century plus studying every fairy tale under the sun!”
Arlene chuckled away as she took a note. “I will be sure to let him know…” Her humor faded a little and she grew serious. “You know, he appreciates everything you’re doing for him. You and the team. But especially the messages and social calls.”
Molly smiled, a heaviness weighing in her chest. “Arlene, it’s the least that I can do.” Her voice became quieter. “I mean, I’m the one that let him go in there. I should have stopped him. Sean was right - ”
Arlene leaned forward. “Hush now. Enough of that. Giles knew what he was getting into, and this is nothing that he hasn’t done a dozen times before.”
Arlene’s face was firm now. “And you tell that Sean Royale to let it go. It’s none of his business. He’s not in command. You are. And besides, I’ve watched him make tougher judgment calls than this, and I’ll tell you - he didn’t always shine so brightly as he makes out. So you just tell him from me to leave it be.”
Molly shook her head. “He hasn’t mentioned it again since that day when we were there on ArchAngel.”
Arlene looked satisfied. “Well, good then. Now, Giles also wanted me to let you know about your take on the ‘Firefly nonsense,’ as he calls it.”
Molly and Arlene chatted away, passing the night and grappling with ways to keep the morale going. Not just for the team, but for themselves. And for Giles.
Joel passed by the ops room on his way up from the gym. He paused as he walked by the door, noticing the light on underneath. He opened the door, and stepped inside, seeing the top of Molly’s head over one of the main console units. He strained to hear, unsure of who she might be talking with. He turned to leave, but heard the word ‘Giles’.
He knew she felt guilty. He knew she had the team working on all kinds of angles. But he hadn’t known that she was consistently in touch with Arlene.
He crept quietly out the door, and headed up to the safe house, wishing there was something more they could be doing.
Chom-X9, Giles’s Prison Cell
Giles awoke for the second time that night; this time, to the sound of sobs.
He remembered where he was, but was confused by the presence of another person. Then he remembered the new arrival.
He sighed with empathy, understanding how hard it must be for someone - especially someone who didn’t have his experience and outlook. Slowly, he dragged himself up to a sitting position and leaned against the wall that his cot was positioned against.
“Hey, chap,” he called as loud as he dared.
The sobbing paused.
“Hey, it’s okay. My name is Giles. I’m probably the nearest thing to a friend you’ve got in here, so how about you talk to me?”
There was more silence.
Giles waited.
“Okay,” Anton replied.
And just like that, Giles was back in therapist mode, talking with Anton d’Zyll: traitor.
Gaitune-67, Molly’s quarters
Molly felt the pain of her insides, screaming with exhaustion, as she reached across the bed to switch off her holo alarm.
Shut up, dammit, she willed it, unable to even open her mouth to curse at it.
I believe you set the alarm with the intention of being up and at it early.
Molly’s eyes flicked open as a shot of adrenalin and guilt flooded her neurology.
Fuck. You’re right, Oz. I wanted to talk to Brock to see if there is any progress on the shield design.
You realize that you’re literally running your body into the ground with all this push, push, push?
Molly ignored the comment. She knew Oz was right, but she didn’t have an alternative.
I need to get going, she told him, slithering off the bed, and stumbling to her feet. She padded across the bedroom floor to the shower room, quietly wishing she could still have her morning mocha.
Less than thirty minutes later, she was downing a protein shake and heading to Brock’s workshop. She could hear his music as soon as she opened the door at the top of the steps.
She made her way down the stairs, her protein shake in hand. Brock was there, busting a move while doing something on the bench holo. “Hey, hey, haaaaaay, lady. Looking boom-chica-wow wahhhh, this morning. How you doin?”
Fuck. I hate morning people.
Me too… Though I love Brock.
Yeah. Ditto.
Molly smiled as she approached his workbench. “I’m doing okay, Brock. You seem in good spirits…”
Brock swung his hips, still jigging about to the music. “I. Am. A-OK,” he told her in his usual melodic style. “I’m just setting up some tests for that little engineering problem we’re trying to fix. Might tell us a bit more.”
Molly set her shake down on the bench and pulled up a stool. “Still no luck with the last idea, then?” Her face betrayed her with a tinge of flatness.
Brock noticed when he looked up. He became stiller, and more somber. “’Fraid not,” he admitted. “The thing is, I’m trying to do two things at once… Figure out what frequency they used, to be able to blast through this Federation issue shield, and then try and find a way to counter it. As soon as I find one that could get through, then it becomes a candidate.”
Molly bobbed her head sympathetically. “I know. It’s a huge task. I’m sorry to put this on you, Brock.”
Brock shrugged. “It’s cool. We’ll get there eventually.” He finished what he was doing on the desk holo and then turned his attention to her. “Any news on how he’s doing?” he asked.
Molly shook her head. “It’s pretty much the same. Awful conditions. Awful food. Arlene is helping him keep it together, but time is short.”
Brock’s eyes widened.
Molly nodded again. “Yeah. Sounds like any little slip-up and he’s a dead man. We’ve already had a couple of close calls. Ancestors know how he’s still alive, given how volatile that Shaa is.”
Brock’s eyes dropped a little. “I wish there was something more we could do. I mean, poor guy. A month and a half in those conditions would kill me,” he said, his mind churning for other solutions.
Molly scraped her stool back as she stood up. “It’s okay. You’re doing all you can. I’ve got some other avenues we’re exploring. Just keep going as fast as possible; we’ll catch a break soon. We have to.”
Brock nodded, and turned back to what he was doing. Molly picked up her shake and decided to head up to her conference room to get some work done. “I’ll check on you later, but if you get anywhere…”
“You’ll be the first to know,” Brock called after her.
Molly waved as she strode out to the stairwell.
Chom-X9, Giles’s Prison Cell
Anton tapped on the metal wall. “Hey, Giles. You still awake?” he asked quietly.
Giles grunted. “Yeah.”
Anton’s voice was tentative. “You want to finish telling me the story of the necklace?”
Giles frowned for a moment. “Oh. The talisman… Yeah. Sure.”
Giles’s recounting of his last outing with Sean had been interrupted by the guards bringing them food, and the story had been forgotten.
He shuffled onto his back and stretched a little, getting comfortable. He picked up his story where he had left off, and brought his new friend, Anton, up to date to when he had returned it to the ArchAngel.
“So, do you know what it is for?” Anton asked.
Giles chuckled. “Somewhat yes, and somewhat no.” He smiled. “It’s a puzzle. Literally.”
Anton was quiet for a moment.
Giles started counting the rivets along the top of the wall, as he lay gazing above him.
“You know,” Anton spoke up again, “it kind of reminds me of that children’s song.”
Giles’s attention was piqued. “Where in the Zhyn Empire are you from?”
Anton frowned, thinking it was a strange, unrelated question. “Er, the Orn System.”
Giles nodded. “The home of ‘the Oracle of the Eleven Moons,’” he said cooingly, as if reading off a tourist’s guide.
“How did you know? I mean, I’m guessing from your voice you’re human, right? How do you know about the Orn System?”
Giles smiled. “Let’s just say I’m an archaeologist.”
Anton was confused. “A what?”
“I study civilizations. But forgive me, you mentioned a nursery rhyme that you were reminded of?”
“Right,” Anton agreed. “It talks of a map or something. It’s probably unrelated. It just made me think of it.”
Giles was starting to feel relaxed. He had food in his system, and it wasn’t too cold in his cell, for a change. He could indulge the idle chatter. “Can you remember the rhyme?” he asked.
Anton muttered a few things, and then managed to recall parts of it.
Eleven moons, a sight to reap,
When all align, no time for sleep
A shaft of light, where the ions flow
Onto the shroud, the glow does go.
When one beholds the moons of Orn,
Be sure to look up at the horn.
The crescent marks the spot to be
When the time strikes keen and on the mark
And when you read the map of gold
In your hands you’ll graciously hold
The elixir of life
The holy grail
The reason we’re on
The rising trail.
As Giles listened, he moved from lying idly on his rack to sitting bolt upright, listening to every syllable.
After cajoling - and then forcing - Anton to repeat it several more times, he felt sure he had it committed to memory.
“Why do you care?” Anton asked him. “It’s a kid’s playtime song.”
Giles tried to hide his excitement. “One of the things I’ve learned in my line of work is that nothing is ‘just’ anything. I’ve also learned that the way for elders to transmit vital information down through generations is to disguise it as songs or stories, for those who are looking to see.”
Anton was starting to sound sleepy. “Well, beats me what it’s all about. I just remember learning it at school. We had a trip out to one of the moons, once. There was nothing there. So it’s just a story. A story to get kids to go on a boring school trip.”
Giles smiled, listening to the silence in the darkness as his fellow prisoner dropped off to sleep.
Finally, he had his next clue. He couldn’t wait to speak to Arlene again; although, she’d probably heard every word of what he had just discovered.
Falling asleep was the last thing he wanted to do right then.
Gaitune-67, Molly’s quarters
Molly sat on her bed the same way she had in the old safe house – and, for that matter, all through college and the military. She did her best work when she was alone, thinking.
Not that she’d been truly alone for a very long time.
Oz? You there?
Yeah. What’s up?
I’m looking at this data that Arlene had ADAM send over. Some of the stuff he’s been gathering from Giles’s holo via his quantum pearl.
Yeah?
Well, I know he’s tried to find models to fit it to, and his problem is a lack of data; but what if we were to just pin down some assumptions?
You mean guesses?
Yes.
…
Oz?
Yeah, I’m here. Guesses based on what, though?
Errr…
You’re going to say your gut, aren’t you?
Well. Yeah.
You do understand that people like ADAM and I don’t have guts?
Of course, Molly grinned to herself. And that’s why humans will never be redundant.
Her brain tickled her as Oz giggled away. She couldn’t help but laugh a little, too.
Okay, talk me through what you were thinking on your holo.
* * *
Several hours later, Molly closed her holo.
I think we’ve got something useful there.
Yeah, as far as the base is concerned; we’re still missing too many chunks to pinpoint the positions of those other three space launchers.
Molly scrambled off the bed, her back and butt now aching from sitting in a silly position for so long. She stood, slowly, and then stretched out gently.
But what about the data from The Little Empress?
What do you mean?
Well, she took a number of hits, right?
Right.
And we know where those hits happened - on either her shield, or her body.
Yes. All that is recorded. Emma can have it sent over.
Right. And we know her position when these hits occurred.
Ahh. I see where you’re going with this. And we will be able to find the rotation of the planet, and guess where it must have been for us to destroy the one launcher that we killed.
Exactly.
Got it. Contacting Emma for the data now.
Excellent. I think I need to go for a run.
Okay. Don’t overdo it, though. It looks like we’ll be moving out for a mission any day now.
I’ll be fine.
Molly smiled to herself as she rummaged for her running gear. She’d need her outdoor clothing for this one. She’d been cooped up for far too long without a real break.
Chapter 16
Chom-X9, Giles’s Prison Cell
Anton had been quiet all morning, pacing and exercising, churning in his own mind.
Giles was waiting impatiently for a time when he could communicate with Arlene. It was incredibly difficult, now he had someone else within earshot.
It isn’t worth risking getting found out, though, he reasoned. That will be a sure way to get sent to the firing squad.
There were footsteps coming down the corridor. They sounded more purposeful, angrier than usual. And he counted three – no, four - separate pairs.
Anton heard them too, and stopped whatever it was he had been doing.
Giles got up from his rack and stood waiting for his door to open to be hauled up to talk to Shaa.
There was the usual clunking and messing about around the door. Then the sound of the keypad. Then the door swung open, and Shaa stood glaring at him.
The Zyhn had a look of thunder in his eyes.
Giles was taken aback. “Lord High Marshall. To what do I owe this pleasure?” he started, trying to maintain a degree of respect in his voice.
Shaa was not amused. “The Yaree Justicar has just assured me they are not in talks with Reynolds. You’ve lied to me!” he declared.
Giles fell back on his heels a little and then took a half step backwards. “That’s not true. I assure you, I’ve seen them in the logs. The justicar himself was on the ArchAngel two weeks before I was brought in here!”
Giles’s voice rose in panic as he protested his innocence.
Shaa was having none of it. He took another step into the cell, looking like he was ready to explode all over Giles. “First, the codes you gave us didn’t work-”
“They changed them!” Giles interrupted in desperation.
Shaa ignored him, taking another step. “And now this. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were here to set us up for failure. Getting me to accuse my ally, and then risk my only gated ship in a fool’s errand, making us think we had the key to destroying the QBS Tornado.”
Giles shook his head, holding his palms up in surrender. “I swear to you, I didn’t. The justicar is lying to you. Let’s talk about this,” he begged.
Shaa wouldn’t accept anything Giles was saying. “You’re going to be executed. My mind is made up,” he informed him. “You’re going to be tied up, out in the atmosphere, on the traitor’s pole… without a suit.”
Giles didn’t quite understand the implication of that. He knew he could survive a short time out there without a suit, but…
“You’re going to die a slow and painful death; the death of a betrayer. A spy!” The fury came off Shaa in waves, his full paranoia and inferiority complex triggered to its maximum. His neck pulsed as rage ran through his veins.
Giles knew there was no reaching him at this point. He stood there, stunned. Neutral. Allowing whatever was going to happen to happen.
“You eat your last meal tonight!” Shaa shouted as he turned and left the cell. “And this is only because I want you to suffer, knowing you are going to die in the morning.”
The door slammed behind him, and the guards locked it up. Footsteps shuffled around, and then followed the High Marshall’s along the corridor.
Giles was vaguely aware of words coming from Anton in the next cell, but it was all he could do to keep it together. His mind swarmed, trying to figure a way out of here.
Fast…
Gaitune-67, Ops Room
Molly sat down at her usual console, talking with Arlene. “So what have you got?” she asked her, anxious that they might finally be able to move forward.
Arlene was grinning. “Okay, so the data that you sent back to us - the stuff ADAM had collated originally - it looks like now, given the last data dump, and your suggestion about making some assumptions and backtracking where The Little Empress got hit, we can interpolate and build up a map of the place. Or at least, most of it, including where the anti-spacecraft guns are.”
Molly sat forward in excitement. “You’re kidding? That’s fantastic!” she grinned in relief.
“Yes. It is. We know that one of the anti-space guns is under maintenance; that much we were able to pull through Giles’s data. The others are a live threat, but…” she moved in her chair and pulled up some more data, sharing her screen with Molly, who jumped to her feet, splashing her lemon tea on her thigh as she moved.
Molly wiped at the hot liquid on her leg, barely aware of it burning her skin through her pants. “So is this telling me that we might actually have a window where we can’t be hit?”
Arlene nodded. “It’s also a gray zone for their radar, but only if we send something small enough,” she added.
Molly could feel the excitement rising in her limbs. “Finally!” she exclaimed. “So you mean something like The Scamp Princess?”
Arlene shook her head. “We could, but she’d be spotted, more than likely. I was thinking something like the pods.”
Molly’s excitement died. “But the pods can’t gate…”
Arlene smiled. “But The Empress can. We just load them up, like we did with The Little Empress, and get them as close as possible.”
Molly took a deep breath, “-And just hope for the best?”
Arlene pursed her lips. “Yeah. Pretty much. But I think they’ll go undetected for the most part, even on the approach.”
Molly sat back down, considering their options.
A moment later, she leaned forward toward the console and picked up her abandoned mug. “I’m thinking that it’s the best plan we’ve had in the past nine weeks.”
Arlene smiled knowingly. “I thought you’d say that.”
Molly bobbed her head gently, making sure she had all the information she needed. “Okay, let me talk with Joel and Sean, and see if we can put a plan together. I’m thinking we’ll swing by the ArchAngel to pick you up, and then head straight out there as soon as we can mobilize.”
“Sounds good to me,” Arlene agreed. “Just let me know when to expect you, and I’ll be ready.”
Molly nodded, getting up from her invisible console chair. “Great. I’ll be in touch.”
She ended the call, took a slurp of her tea, and then strode out across the ops room floor to find Joel. It was late, but this was far too important to wait until morning.
Onboard The Empress
Joel’s voice boomed through the cargo hold of The Empress. “Okay, folks, it’s got to be just like we practiced. Emma is going to drop us quite a ways out, and then we ride in on the pods.”
He glanced around, making sure everyone was paying attention. “Now remember, the pods don’t have the same defenses as The Empress, so we’re relying on Emma to use envelope maneuvers if we get fired upon. Given what we know about the missiles that they’re using down there, there’s an eighty nine percent chance that Emma can shake them off our tails. But it might get bumpy - so make sure you put your harness on. Every one of you.”
Joel looked over at Sean poignantly. “It doesn’t matter how used to the pods you are, you can’t overcome gravity, and we need you operational when you land.”
He widened his address to the whole group. “Once on the surface, we have one directive. Retrieve Giles. That’s it. No being a hero. No trying to get payback on the Zhyn. We’ll use the intel Giles has captured at a later date to come in and deal with these guys. But for now, we’re here for extraction only.”
Joel looked at the solemn faces as he gave the final pep talk and briefing to the assembled team. “Paige and Maya - you make sure you stay near your pods. Your reason for being there is to provide an extra chance for a ride, if you see an opportunity to grab Giles while we lay down cover. You have firearms, but you are not to go looking for engagement. Do I make myself clear?”
Paige and Maya nodded in unison.
Joel turned to the others. “Any questions?” he asked.
Molly stood up from her leaning position by the weapons rack. She unfolded her arms, catching Joel’s eye. Joel thought she wanted to say something, but she shook her head.
“Okay, folks,” Joel said, doing his wrapping up hand signal. “Let’s move out. And go get our teammate back!”
He clapped his hands to make them move, and immediately, there was a scuffling to pick up weapons and any final pieces of gear they might need.
Paige looked at the blasters on the racks and made an executive decision, picking up a small handheld instead. Maya noticed, and did the same.
Paige glanced over at the bigger blasters as she checked her weapon over and holstered it. “No way I can move - or be of any use at all - holding one of those,” she reasoned.
Maya nodded. “Agreed,” she said. “Heck, my arms and legs have gone weak just thinking about what we’re walking into.”
Paige put her hand on her chest. “I know. My heart’s beating so fast. I’m so scared.” Her eyes teared up.
Maya stepped closer, lowering her voice so they couldn’t be heard over the engines and the clicking and snapping of weapons and clips. “You know, you don’t have to do this. If it’s too much, they’ll understand.”
A tear escaped from Paige’s eye. “I know,” she said. Her expression hardened a little. “But I want to do this. It’s one of us down there, and… I need to be a part of it.”
Maya nodded. “You’re going to do great. Just keep breathing, and stay near the pod. We’ll be back at Gaitune, eating fatty pizza and drinking ourselves into a hangover in no time.”
Paige laughed a little through another tear that escaped and ran down her face. She swiped it away. “Yeah. This will be fun, once we get out there,” she agreed, pulling herself together.
The two girls followed the starship troopers to the pods in the cargo hold. Jack and Sean were keeping their usual banter going.
Jack called over to Sean as they headed for separate pods. “I suppose you and Joel are in competition about how many bad guys you take out?” she asked.
Sean shook his head as he reached up to the pod to haul himself in. “No, we haven’t talked about it,” he said.
Jack grinned. “Wanna go head-to-head with a girl, then?” She had a mischievous look in her eye.
Maya approached Sean’s pod. “My money is on her,” she interjected, drawing a scowl from Sean.
His jaw set in determination. “Right. You’re on!” he called over to Jack. Then he hopped up into the pod and turned to face Maya as she started jumping up. “And you’re buying the beer if you’re wrong.”
Maya clambered into her seat and raised her hand for a high-five. “You’re soooo on!” she told him, competitively.
Sean chuckled to himself as he sat down and started putting his own harness on.
Within minutes, Joel, Molly, Sean, and Maya, along with Paige and Jack, were strapped into their respective pods, and being guided out of the cargo hold into the space behind The Empress.
Molly opened a channel to Joel’s pod, but said nothing. Joel noticed. “Molly, is that you?” he asked.
“Yes,” she replied quietly.
“You okay?”
She nodded, and then realized he couldn’t see that from his pod. His pod drew along side her and he caught her eye through the windows. She nodded again.
Joel watched her, waiting for her to speak. When she didn’t, he did. “It’s okay. We’ll just leave the line open, yeah?”
Molly touched the glass on her pod, and then pulled her hand back. She nodded again, and then the pods were moved into a wide formation so they wouldn’t be detected by the radar.
Molly was out on her own, surrounded by empty space, watching the approach of the former-Chrom moon.
* * *
Several minutes passed like that; the silence and isolation disorientating her. She thought several times that she could say something to Joel, but she had nothing to say. It was her fault they had to do this risky mission - and last time they approached this very base, she had nearly lost him.
Double whammy guilt.
I shouldn’t have to keep reminding you that none of this is your fault.
So why does it feel so sucky?
Because you take these things on. You’re compassionate, and now you feel the fear and the tension in your teammates, and it’s a lot to process.
So how do I deal with it?
I think you just need to accept it as it is. Accept their feelings. Accept your own. And then focus on the task at hand.
I used to be so good at doing the latter.
These feelings and sensations are still very new to you. Give yourself time.
Molly gazed out, trying to see the other pods. She could see one faint dot to her right, and then maybe another one just beyond that, but much smaller and fainter.
Joel’s voice came over the comm. “Okay, folks, we’re nearly there. I’ve just had confirmation from Pieter and Oz that they’ve not detected us yet. We’re now heading into the missile zone, so if they’re going to see us, this is where it’s most likely. Make sure you’re strapped in. These maneuvers can get intense if Emma has to move you out of a missile track.”
There was a flurry of chatter on the line as the others acknowledged the order, and then the silence returned.
Molly could see the atmosphere of the moon. It was light. Nothing like what you’d see on an inhabited planet. But it was there. The pod speed seemed to slow, and the surface of the moon became visible. Molly could just about make out the darker area where there were constructions. She strained her eyes to see if that was it, or whether it was shadow. Then she realized she could use the head-up display to zoom in. She leaned forward to poke at the screen.
Suddenly there was a scream on the audio channel.
Then another.
Emma’s voice came on. “Missiles have been launched. Evasive maneuvers in progress. Please hold tight.”
Molly looked to her right. She couldn’t see anything.
Oz, what’s going on?
Two of the pods have been targeted. Emma is trying to get them free of the scent, but it’s tough. She can’t move them too fast, or jerk them around too sharply, because of the human cargo.
Huh?
You move a human too quickly, and things start to come apart inside.
Molly’s mind whirred.
And then suddenly, she saw one of the pods shoot out in front of her, out of their formation, tightly followed by a missile.
“Who’s in there?” she asked out loud.
Emma responded. “If you’re referring to the pod out in front of you, that is Sean and Maya.”
“Shit!” Molly shrieked. “Help them. Help them. Get them out of here!”
Emma responded calmly. “I’m doing my best,”
Molly remembered the calculations. Eighty nine percent, they had said. That left eleven percent that any one of them might be hit. She wondered if that included the base line of the missile just malfunctioning. Maybe that might give us an extra percentage point in our favor?
The pod disappeared from view, behind the missile.
Molly’s heart was in her mouth. She was aware of Joel shouting instructions over the audio, but she couldn’t focus. All she could do was watch the missile.
And then there was an enormous explosion.
Her pod peeled off to the left. The explosion and the moon disappeared from view beneath her. She could only see space, and hear screams of despair over the comms.
What’s going on, Oz?! What’s happening?
“Joel? Joel? Are you there? What happened? Joel?” she shouted.
Calm down, Molly. It’s okay. The missile exploded behind the pod. Emma managed to fool the two missiles into colliding with each other.
What the - ?
It’s okay. Maya and Sean are okay.
And everyone else?
They’re fine.
Molly felt her chest ache. She couldn’t believe what had just happened.
Okay, let’s get down to the surface, stat.
Already happening. Landing in less than a minute now.
Okay.
Molly noticed her hands were gripping the safety handles inside her pod so tightly she thought she might pop the joints out. She tried to relax them, and noticed how sweaty and slippery her palms were. She’d wedged herself between the grips, and her feet against the pod walls, when her pod had veered. She collected herself, straightened up, and picked up her blaster.
It’s okay. Everyone is okay, she repeated to herself.
It seemed like an eternity had passed by the time the pods touched down on the surface. She slipped her atmoshelmet on, and tapped her communicator to their open channel.
“Molly online,” she said, hearing each of the others check in.
Her pod door slipped open, and she gingerly shuffled forward and stepped out, awkwardly scrambling with her blaster. She could see the other pods in an array nearby, and her team was emerging. She felt a strange relief to see they were all there, but a part of her wanted them all to get back in their pods and go back to safety.
That wasn’t going to happen now.
Now they were committed.
Now they had to find Giles.
Within seconds, Jack, Sean, and Joel also had their boots on the ground, and the pods carrying Maya and Paige slipped up into a position above the base – too high to be seen at eye level, but not high enough to be picked up by radar.
Joel signaled for them to advance.
Chapter 17
Chom-X9
The whole moon was dusty. In some ways, it reminded her of Sark. Except Sark had colors. Reds and browns.
Here, everything was a pale bluish gray: the dirt beneath their feet, the sky, the buildings.
There were no fences around the building, like most military bases.
Probably because they think of this whole rock as the base, Molly remarked to herself.
The building ahead of them seemed like the main structure. It matched the details they had pulled together from Giles’s data, at least. Molly recognized the shape when they landed.
If Giles was anywhere, it would be here.
Joel motioned for Jack and Sean to head around to the right. He and Molly were going to try and get in the front.
Sean and Jack disappeared from view around the other side of the building.
Molly glanced over at Joel. “So, what? We just walk up to the front door?” she asked.
Joel glanced over at her, and then put his hand in his pocket. He pulled out something small and showed it to her. “Nope,” he told her. “We blast the door out. At the very least, it will break any air seals they have, and cause havoc – meaning Sean and Jack will have a distraction.”
Molly nodded. They approached, and Joel set the charge. “Okay, start heading that way around the building. We’re going to need another way in,” he told her.
Molly started moving as fast as she could. The gravity was about half of what she was used to, and she suspected it was probably artificially enhanced, as well. The rock didn’t seem large enough to retain even this much atmosphere.
Yes, it’s artificial. I’m adding in data to our schematics as we go. He’s using the same language as on the secret bases, so it’s taking a little time to process.
Great. As soon as you have a hint as to where Giles might be, let me know.
Roger that.
Molly heard the explosion behind her and spun around. An orange ball of fire was emanating from the door area. She breathed a sigh of relief as she spotted Joel pressed up against a pillar that was jutting out from the side of the building, only a few yards behind her.
She smiled, and turned to keep moving. “You coming?” she asked him, over the communicator.
Joel chuckled. “Yeah, suppose so,” he said. “Let’s check out the area that Giles’s location seemed to track to the majority of the time. I’ve got a feeling that just around this corner, there is another entrance. It looked like a passageway or corridor on the schematics.”
Molly nodded, still moving forward. Then she saw movement up ahead. She ducked back around the corner she had just rounded, and pressed herself against the wall. Carefully, she ventured a look.
There were three Zhyns dressed in what were probably civilian clothes, but carrying weapons. They were talking, and one of them ushered the others inside. They disappeared through a door.
The same door they were heading for.
Molly saw their chance, and moved to follow, praying they wouldn’t turn around and see her.
Is Joel following?
Yes. He’s catching up to you.
Good.
A moment later, Molly was racing toward the sliding metal door, and shoving her foot in its path to keep it from closing. It kept moving. She put her hands on the edge, and pulled it back. Finally it relented, allowing her through.
She glanced back, hoping that Joel wasn’t too far away. He rounded the corner, and then raced to catch up. “Come on,” she whispered urgently.
She slipped inside, keeping her body in the way of the sensors. The corridor was basic. It reminded her of something from the archives of the Estarian military. Functional. Metal. Cold. Brutal.
She prayed they would get to Giles in time.
Joel reached the door and slipped in behind her. He grabbed a rock from just outside, and put it in the path of the door. The metal panel closed to the rock and then stopped, wedging the rock in place, keeping the door ajar.
Molly gave him a thumbs-up for the good idea, and then started down the corridor, holding her blaster out in front of her. Joel followed doing the same.
* * *
Jack’s voice found its way to Sean’s ear through his helmet communicator. “We’ve got a life sign just up ahead,” she told him.
Sean frowned. “Out here in this atmosphere?” he queried. “Are you sure?”
Jack confirmed. “It’s weak, but definitely there. And definitely human.”
Sean managed to make eye contact with Jack as she turned back towards him. “Giles?” he asked.
Jack again faced the direction they were heading. “Maybe. We should check it out,” she said, moving forward more purposefully.
Sean matched her pace, and the pair advanced quickly as a unit. Sean moved forward, sweeping his blaster in front of them. Jack came behind, walking backward, making sure their collective asses were covered.
As they got closer to the life sign, Sean broke into a run. “It’s him!” he called. “Get Paige down here with a pod.”
Jack flicked to the general channel. “We’ve located Giles. Paige, Maya, can you bring the pods down to our location?”
Paige acknowledged. “On our way.”
Sean ran out into the clearing to find Giles slumped in the dirt, on his knees and tied to a post. “Mate, you okay? You’re okay. We’ve got you,” he said, knowing his words weren’t heard beyond his helmet.
Giles’s complexion was gray, and his body looked puffy. Sean dropped his blaster into the dirt and tried to hold Giles’s head up; his head just lolled.
Sean checked his eyes. “He’s lost consciousness,” he said, observing Giles’s slumped body, held up only by his hands, tied behind him around the pole. “He’s suffering embolism as a result of the low pressure. We need to get him inside.”
“What are you doing?” Jack hissed at him, when she turned to see him removing his helmet. It was the last thing he heard from her, with the comms disappearing. He put his helmet over Giles’s head, and tried his best to get it to seal.
“Come on, mate, breathe,” he told him.
He switched his comms on his holo over to his implant. “He’s not breathing,” he told Jack. He looked up from his crouching position. “Where are those damn pods?”
As if on cue, the four pods descended in the clearing between the building and where Giles had been tied up.
Sean busied himself getting Giles’s hands free, and then pulled him up. The pod doors slipped open, revealing Paige in one, Maya in another, and two empties.
Sean carried Giles over to one of the empty pods, and hauled him inside, closing the door as fast as possible. “Jack, get Joel and Molly out of there. We’ve got Giles. We need to move out.”
Jack acknowledged, and jogged off in the direction of the other side of the building, staying on high alert for any signs of Zhyns.
Chom-X9, Inside the base
Molly and Joel crept as quickly and quietly as they could down the corridor. There was commotion, and alarms were going off. Every now and then, they had to freeze and flatten themselves behind structures in the building as numerous Zhyns ran past, heading to the front door where the explosion was still causing problems.
Molly glanced down at her holo map, and then gestured to Joel, pointing out a stairwell. Joel nodded.
As soon as the area was clear, they set off toward the stairwell, and then down the steps as quickly as they could.
They reached the next floor down. Molly looked back at Joel questioningly.
Oz, I dunno if this is it.
We’ve too much data missing to know. Try it, and then be prepared to back up.
Okay.
She pushed through the doors and headed down the corridor. She could hear chatter and activity ahead. She stopped, and began to retreat.
This area is too populated.
I’m picking up the network now. That must be the control room. It’s going to be swarming -
“Stop right there!” A Zhyn had just come through a door further down the corridor, and he trained his blaster on them.
Joel immediately fired, knocking the soldier back, and drawing the attention of his colleagues. Joel and Molly tried again to retreat. “Let’s get out of here,” Joel called to Molly.
“No arguments from me!” she said, returning fire.
Joel pushed against the door, but a shot came within an inch of his head.
A Zhyn had managed to get a clear shot on them. “Stop! Or the next one goes through her head,” he said.
Joel paused, then backed up off the door. The Zhyn signaled for them to put their weapons down.
Molly started moving slowly to do as they were told. Joel followed.
Shit. Now what?
It’s okay. We always find a way. Just stay alive. Do what he says.
Molly started to stand up, her hands above her head.
“Not so fast, mother fuckers!” She heard a human voice beyond the cluster of Zhyns assembling. And then, before she knew what was happening, there was another scurry of blasters being fired.
For a few seconds, neither she nor Joel knew what was happening. But when the blasting stopped, they saw a heap of blue Zhyns on the floor, and Jack standing at the other end of the corridor. “Thought you might need some help,” she said smiling. “You ready to get out of here? We have Giles.”
Molly processed the information quickly, and picked up her blaster. “Great. Was the way you came clear?”
Jack nodded. “Yes. Let’s go.”
Molly and Joel started down the corridor to follow Jack, stepping unceremoniously over the Zhyn bodies that Jack had just dropped.
Joel smiled. “Good shooting, soldier,” he told her.
* * *
“Come on, mate. You need to breathe,” Sean managed to get Giles propped up in the pod. His skin was puffy; incredibly puffy. He couldn’t tell how long he’d been out in the low-pressure atmosphere, because this place was unfamiliar to him. It looked like it was either a form of torture, or they really did intend to leave him there to die.
“Giles, come on,” he pleaded. “Those nanocytes should be getting to it.” He patted Giles’s cheek lightly, trying to encourage him to come around.
“Emma, what can you tell me about his condition?” he asked, reeling off the symptoms.
“I suspect he’s been out in this for over half an hour, given what I can tell from the atmospheric readings. He should regain consciousness shortly. You’re right about the nanocytes.”
Sean sat back, slightly reassured.
He looked out of the pod and saw the others milling around the site. He switched to the general channel. “Hey, get into the pods. The pressure is too low to be safe for more than a few minutes,” he told them, gesticulating to the girls.
Maya and Paige looked over, and then scurried into one of the pods together.
“Emma we need to get Giles to proper care ASAP. Any news on where the others are?”
Emma responded. “Let me find out,” she told him.
Just then, Giles’s eyes started to flutter.
“Hey, hey… Giles. It’s Sean. Are you awake?”
Giles started to come into his body, and sat himself up a little more comfortably. “Hello. Oh… my. You’re… you came…” His voice was raspy and dry.
He coughed.
Sean tried to help him up. “It’s okay, mate. Just relax. We’re going to get the others back out here, and then we’ll all head back to The Empress.”
Giles’s eyes flew open, and he sat up straighter. “No. We can’t go yet!” He was struggling to speak, and move. His body was still suffering the effects of lack of oxygen and pressure.
Sean tried to get him to settle down. “It’s okay. We’ll be out of here soon.”
Giles tried to sit forward and stand. “You don’t understand. We need to get Anton out of the basement, and then I need to blow this base.” Giles managed to sit up. Then he half stood, and hit the button to leave the pod.
Sean tried to grab him. “Giles, there isn’t time. This place is swarming with - ”
Giles was stumbling out of the pod. He had Sean’s helmet in his hand as he pulled away. He fell, and rolled into the dirt. He immediately scrambled up to his feet, picking up the helmet again, and half ran, half stumbled back toward the base where he had been held captive all this time.
Sean jumped down, grabbing his blaster. “Shit!”
He glanced over at the other pods, to the girls. “Get the pods in the air again. We’ll be right back,” he commanded into the holo on his wrist. Maya and Paige nodded mutely through the glass of their pod.
A second later, the pods lifted up into the air and vanished. Sean ran to catch up with Giles just as he disappeared through a lower basement entrance and down some steps.
Chapter 18
Chom-X9, Inside the base
Giles made his way down the corridor. Sean could tell from his awkward gait that he was in excruciating pain, trying to keep moving and breathing.
It also meant that whatever it was he was trying to do must be important.
Sean followed deftly, keeping alert for any signs of Zhyn. The alarms were still going, making hearing anything useful incredibly hard.
Giles veered off down another corridor, and then into a warehouse area. Then he dropped down another flight of stairs, and continued down into the darkness. Sean followed, noticing that Giles had thrown the helmet on his head. Then he realized why.
“Hello? Sean? Molly? Can anyone hear me?” Giles’s voice intruded on the group communication channel.
Sean was about to respond via holo, but then Molly answered. “Hello? Is that - ?”
“Yes, it’s me. Giles. Thank you for coming for me,” he said ridiculously politely, given the situation they were in.
“You’re welcome,” Molly responded, confused. “Where are you?”
Giles’s voice was intermittent, and he was panting. “I’m in the dungeon. I’m just about to rescue an associate of mine, but I need you to help me out if you’re still in the building.”
There was a pause. Then Molly’s voice answered.
“Yes, we’re still here. What do you need?”
Giles was direct. “For you to overload a service generator so we can blow this base into the ether.”
Another pause.
“Molly?” he asked.
Sean listened, taking in every word that might help them get out of there sooner.
Molly’s voice came through his helmet again. “Er. Yeah. Isn’t that a bit extreme? I mean, we need to take out Shaa and decommission this place.”
Giles’s breathing was still heavy, and Sean noticed his movement had slowed. “No, it’s not extreme. This is the only chance we’ll get. We need to take it. The Federation is in acute danger if we don’t. I need you to trust me. Can you do that?”
Something told Sean that perhaps Giles wasn’t the type to need rescuing after all.
He could also hear movement at Molly’s end. She was panting a little, now. “Okay, what do you need?” she asked.
Giles started explaining. “There is a weapons store near where I was being held. They have their ventilation systems and generators way too close to the weapons store to be safe. I’m also sure I smelled IRFNA - which means that it has probably corroded through whatever missile it was loaded into. This means that one little spark may cause the whole thing to go up. All it takes is for that stuff to mix with any rocket fuel that may be around, and it’s curtains. If we can direct some of that explosion into the ventilation system, we can get the whole base to blow.”
He paused. “I’m advocating causing an overload of the generator, and one of the ventilation systems in the basement. The two explosions should fuel each other.”
Molly hesitated. “An explosion of that magnitude will take half the moon with it.”
Giles’s voice was steady and confident. “Believe me, that’s the better option.”
Molly sounded like she was resigning herself to the task. “Okay. We need to get everyone out of here before we do it.”
“Right,” Giles concluded. “I’m going to get Anton out of here, too. You get your people back out to the pods. I’ll be along shortly. Let me know when you’ve got access to their facility’s system.”
Molly grunted something, and the line went dead.
Giles rounded another corner and found his way back to his old cell. He went straight to the one next to it and leaned against the wall, waiting for Sean. “Have you got something on your holo to access this keypad?” he asked. “It’s a four digit code, if that helps.”
Sean nodded, letting his blaster swing by his side on his shoulder strap. He connected his holo in, and started punching away at some keys.
Eventually, the lock popped and the door slid open.
Giles peered around the corner, still catching his breath, his puffiness returning to almost human levels now. “Anton?” he said, looking over at the shocked imprisoned Zhyn. “I’m Giles. I’ll be rescuing you today.”
Chom-X9, Storage cupboard
“Come on, Molly. Fast as you can…” Jack called in, exchanging nervous glances with Joel as they kept guard on an out-of-the-way storage cupboard.
How we doing, Oz?
Nearly there. Okay, we’ve got it. So what did he say? That he wants to overload the air con unit at the same time as the generator?
Yeah. Can you pull up the schematic and overlay it with where we think he was being held?
Sure. It’s onscreen, on the panel.
Molly shuffled closer to the maintenance panel just inside the cupboard. It was difficult to see, and fairly low tech compared with what she had seen on the Zhyn bases.
Okay. So I think if we can reroute the power from the one on the floor above, it will probably be enough to cause an overload. Can you find a way of setting off the air unit?
Sure.
Molly clicked onto the general channel. “Giles, we have access. Tell me you’re out.”
Giles’s voice came through her helmet. “Not yet. Might have to just blow it, anyway. Give me two minutes, and, if you don’t hear from me, just blow it.”
Molly frowned, looking frustrated. “I’m not blowing it until I know you’re safe. I didn’t come all this way and risk my team, to just blow you up.”
Sean’s voice interrupted. “It’s okay. I’m here with him. If I have to carry him out over my shoulder, we’ll get out. Might need three minutes, though.”
Molly froze. “Sean. Why are you in the building? I thought it was just Giles?”
“He was in no fit shape to even walk on his own,” Sean explained. “It’s okay. We have his friend and we’re heading out. Just hope we don’t bump into any of these Zhyn on the way…”
Just then Molly heard firing on the other end. “Sean? Sean! SEAN!”
There was a scuffling on the line, and fire being returned.
A moment later, Sean’s voice reported in. “Yeah. Yeah. It’s okay. Keep working. I’ll tell you when we’re out.”
* * *
Anton helped Giles move as fast as they could down the corridor. Sean strode ahead of them, taking out oncoming Zhyns.
Bam. Bam. BAM… He dropped one after another.
They rounded the corner and started up the stairs. Giles was breathing heavily again. He grabbed hold of the banister. “Sean, you and Anton go on without me. Keep going. I’ll catch up if I can.”
Sean turned around. “No way,” he said flatly. “Now get moving, soldier.”
Giles rolled his eyes comically. “You do realize I’ve never been a soldier.”
Sean ignored the comment, and bounced on up the stairs to make sure their way was clear.
Giles tapped the connection switch on his helmet, connecting him to Molly again. “Molly, can you put us on a closed channel?”
He waited.
Molly answered. “Yes, we’re alone now. What is it? Are you out, yet?”
Giles’s voice was serious. He sounded like he was still moving, but struggling. “Whatever happens,” he told her, “you need to do this. You need to destroy this base before you leave. For the safety of the Federation.”
His voice quieted in shame. “They’ve had me too long… I told them things. You need to protect those secrets. Get your people out, and then blow this joint.”
Molly shook her head. “No,” she said adamantly. “We’ll find another way.”
Giles winced in pain. “There is no other way. It’s now or never,” he told her, panting.
Molly rested the forehead of her helmet against the wall next to the panel. She couldn’t believe the situation she was in. All her people were in the building still; and yet, if she got taken out before the base was blown up, the Federation was at more risk than when they had allowed Giles to come in the first place.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit… Impossible fucking decisions!
She heard blasters firing just outside the door…
Molly poked her head out to see that Joel and Jack had dived around the corner, and were picking off the Zhyn as they approached and left themselves exposed.
Molly waited. She looked at the console. She should blow it. Operationally, she should blow it.
The Federation was at stake. Ancestors only knew what Giles meant when he told her that he had had to tell them things. He’d been a part of the inner circle for forever. He could know all kinds of vulnerabilities.
Her mind flicked to Arlene, wondering how much he’d shared with her. If he had told her everything, then maybe there was a way around it; like changing codes, or routes, or strategies. Arlene had already been a stickler for that.
But then, if it were that easy and he’d already told her everything, he wouldn’t be so insistent that they blow the base, and everyone in it.
She took a deep breath. She was going to have to blow it.
Her finger hovered over the console.
Oz? Are you there?
Always.
You know that I have to do this?
Yes. It’s the right thing to do. Protect the Federation. It’s what we all signed up for. We knew the risks.
Molly couldn’t believe that this was how her life ended. How her team ended. There was so much more they needed to do - things they needed to tell each other. Places they needed to go…
She felt her finger trembling as she reached forward.
“Molly? Molly, we’re out. Get out of the building.” It was Giles’s voice. “Sean and Anton are out. We’re getting into pods.”
Molly breathed a sigh of relief.
Molly? Good news. I’ve managed to rig this on a time delay. You’ve got five minutes from when you hit that button.
Molly couldn’t believe the turnaround in just a few seconds. She breathed a sigh of relief, and noticed that the shooting had stopped.
Joel appeared at the door. “Ready to get out of here?” he asked, smiling and pumped from a good shooting match.
Molly pressed the button on the console, her whole arm now shaking and weak. She hoisted her blaster over her shoulder strap, and slipped out of the cupboard.
Jack was already halfway down the corridor. “Let’s move,” she whispered loudly.
Joel and Molly jogged after her, rounding the corner just seconds later. Molly looked up, and could see the door they had come in through. It was still wedged open.
Nearly there, she told herself. Nearly there. Just a few more -
Molly could hear footsteps coming down the corridor they had just left.
She turned to see. Joel put his arm out as he jogged along, refusing to let her stop moving. She could hear him shouting.
“Go go go!” he shouted at her.
Everything was happening in slow motion.
She turned back around, feeling that a blaster was going to fire at them in any second.
Jack flew out of the door and disappeared. Joel was still shouting, pushing her on. She stopped resisting, and pushed herself onward as hard as she could. There was an empty pod just ahead of them. She squeezed out of the closing door, and into the pod.
She turned, looking for Joel behind her. The door had closed again, and he was trying to pull it open.
“Joeeeeel!” she screamed from the pod.
Joel appeared behind the door, getting it open. He slipped through and ran forward. She could hear the sound of blasters going off behind the door. It was just a matter of time before the horde of Zhyn came rushing through the door to finish them.
Joel was in the pod like a shot, and half a heartbeat later, they were being whisked up into the air with a g-force that made her stomach lurch.
Thrown back in their seats, and slumped down by the force of their rapid ascent, Joel and Molly looked at each other with expressions of fear, which turned to relief. Which turned to laughter.
“That was close!” Joel chuckled.
Molly shook her head. “That was fucking…”
Words escaped her.
Joel nodded. “It was…”
The g-force lifted, and they were able to sit up. While they strapped themselves into their harnesses, Molly was desperate to check something.
She opened the general channel, and removed her helmet, letting the audio come through the pod comm.
“Did we all get out?” she asked urgently. “Roll call, everyone…”
Two by two, her people checked in.
“Maya and Sean, checking in,” Maya’s voice reported.
Paige was next. “Jack and Paige, present and correct.”
Giles responded. “Giles and Anton, now free!” he exclaimed, the relief in his voice palpable.
Molly smiled at Joel. “Molly and Joel, also safe. Well done, people. Great job. Emma, let’s get back to The Empress as soon as we can… We want to be a long way from here before anyone notices what’s going on.”
“Right you are,” Emma responded, as an almighty explosion rocked the surface below them.
Molly peered down through the side window as Emma whipped them out of the atmosphere. The orange cloud of fire reacted with the air, triggering a tirade of explosions from the weapons held in the bunker below.
“Quite the fireworks display,” Joel said, looking through the window past her.
She nodded. “I’m just thankful we all managed to get out,” she said, not daring to mention the decision she was nearly forced to make not moments before.
Aboard The Empress
Molly gazed out of the window from the little corridor next to the cargo hold. She looked back to the blast over the planet, as a mushroom cloud of destruction billowed up and the store of weapons continued to burn.
She felt someone come up along side her. The energy was tentative. Gentle.
“We did that,” she muttered, her mind still there on the moon.
“We did.” It was Giles’s voice that answered her.
She turned, surprised to see him. She expected it would have been Joel, or Sean, or maybe even Arlene. She’d forgotten that Giles was an actual person, and not some entity that she communicated with through Arlene.
“We did,” he repeated, “because we had to.” His skin had returned to normal, and his breathing seemed unhindered now.
He stood calm and present. More present than she had seen him, even before his capture. His clothes were filthy, and torn in places. Molly could only imagine what he might have been through and not reported through Arlene.
Molly looked back out at the devastation they had wreaked. Her eyes were sad, but she mostly felt numb. “I know,” she agreed readily. “But just because we had to, or because it was the choice we had to make to protect the people we care about, it doesn’t mean that we get to absolve ourselves of what we’ve done. We don’t get to devalue life just because it was the only decision we could make.”
Giles didn’t make any attempt to argue with her. She took a breath, thinking, and then continued. “Life is valuable, even if events have made some living people our enemies.”
She half expected some kind of justification back from Giles, but when she looked up at him, he was smiling. “Molly Bates, I’m grateful there are people like you in the world,” he said simply, placing a hand on her shoulder.
He looked at her long and hard, as if considering his next words.
“I also must thank you for your entertaining repartee during my enslavement.” His eyes misted up.
Molly looked back at the moon as their ship carried them away. Giles continued. “Arlene was great. Obviously. She kept my mind busy, and never let me give up hope. But getting your messages through her…” his voice cracked a little, and he paused to collect himself. “They were the highlights of my days.”
Molly didn’t know what was happening.
She felt her insides tighten as she processed Giles’s words. Her chest weighed heavy; still with guilt, but now with all these other confusing feelings. Her mind grabbed at the next thing she needed to do to keep everyone safe.
“I need to go and check on the team,” she said flatly, excusing herself from the cargo hold and double-stepping it up to the main cabin.
Giles turned his head as she left, listening to her leave through the door behind him. He lifted his weary hand, placing it on the wall by the window, allowing him to lean and watch the moon disappear from view before they gated back to their home system.
Chapter 19
Aboard ArchAngel
The bar was filled with the sounds of jovial celebration and chatter; the kind of chatter that people engage in when they are relieved just to be alive.
The energy around the two big tables in the lounge area was excited, fresh, and hopeful. Even Jian, Shun and Zhu had come down to help the Sanguine Squadron celebrate their victory.
A few tables away, two figures were hunched quietly over a table, nursing their beers. Their demeanor was a far cry from the relief and excitement that the others were experiencing. Their expressions were those of responsibility; of knowing things that the psyche shouldn’t have to contend with. The relief of survival was a drug they had used regularly in the past, and now, older and wiser, they found themselves with weightier considerations.
“Does Molly know?” Arlene studied Giles carefully as she awaited his response.
Giles rotated his beer bottle on the table between his thumb and forefinger. “About the ArchAngel?”
Arlene nodded. “Yeah.”
Giles took a deeper breath. “Only what I said out loud on the surface, when I was out of my mind, suffocating and trying to get her to go through with it.”
Arlene looked off over the empty chairs and tables in the bar area. “Well, at least she went through with it. This could have been a lot worse.” She paused and looked back at him. “Does she know I know?”
Giles shook his head slightly. “Nah. I doubt she’s even thought about it. Besides, you stopped the codes, right?”
Arlene nodded. “You’re damn right, I did.” She looked at him like a nana would look at a grandchild who had dropped a carton of milk. She took a swig of her beer.
A contemplative silence fell between the two for a few moments. Then Arlene had another thought. “You think she’ll ask you about it again?”
Giles shook his head and looked down at the table. “I’m not sure. I mean, the threat has been neutralized…”
Arlene interjected quietly. “It’s a court martial offense.”
Giles nodded seriously, a look of brokenness playing across his features. “I know,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, and leaning his arm on the table. “I know…”
Arlene pursed her lips. “Well, you were under duress. And it got the result in the end. Maybe it will be okay. I mean - ” Her attention was caught briefly by a roar of laughter from the team. “How else were you going to stay alive? You had to give them something.”
Giles rubbed his face. “Yeah, but at the same time, I wasn’t sanctioned to be there.”
Arlene clenched her fists and her expression hardened. “Yes. I’m sure Reynolds will lean on that fact, but when push comes to shove, you did the thing that he would have wanted doing, but that he couldn’t send you to do.”
Giles looked emotionally defeated. “I guess,” he said. He started to shuffle out of the booth. “I think the best thing is to move on with the talisman investigation. It will be a distraction from people asking too many questions. And,” he glanced up at the bar, noticing Molly heading toward it, “it will get us out of here for a while…”
Arlene mumbled her agreement, and looked to see where Giles was looking. She turned back to her beer. Giles shuffled up off the seat and patted Arlene’s shoulder as he walked over to the bar.
“Yeah, so Molly is in the cupboard, doing Ancestors knows what, and Jack is like, ‘we have incoming’. All serious and shit.” Joel’s voice carried through the lounge, retelling the story. “And I’m like, shit! I’m glad this lady is here, cuz honestly, I don’t think I could have taken that many of those guys on my own!”
Jack’s face lit up. “Well, that reminds me!” She looked over at Sean, her eyes very deliberate. “What was your count?”
“Oh, yeah, you two had a bet!” Maya chipped in.
The hub of the laughter and the exchange faded into the background for Giles.
He leaned on the bar, releasing his empty tumbler onto the surface. “Another, please, barkeep,” he said, hanging his head. He was barely looking up, but was very aware that Molly was directly to his left.
“So this is your post-mission ritual?” she asked. “Being miserable and drinking to celebrate your narrow escape from death?”
He turned to see her sitting in a seat, nursing her drink, and gazing up at the screen behind the bar.
Giles smiled dryly. “It is. I find it helps counter all the exuberant celebration that other people do. Conservation of decorum, I call it.”
Molly grinned. “Well, I’m glad you’re back. And safe,” she said raising her glass to him.
The barman finished refilling Giles’s tumbler, and he raised his glass in return, and drank. He shuffled up onto a stool, leaving a space between them. She turned her attention back up to the screen, watching the information scroll through.
Molly still had an air of seriousness about her, despite being here with her team. She looked over at him again. “How did you cope? I mean, stay sane, all that time?” she said, shaking her head in amazement as she considered what he must have been through.
Giles looked down into his glass. “I’m not sure I did, honestly.”
Molly’s stare bore through his temple. He deliberately didn’t return the look. “I mean, the guilt kept me focused. Knowing that I’d put myself in that position, arrogantly thinking it would be a breeze. And, I mean, don’t get me wrong, it could have been a whole lot worse; but I did things. I said things. Things I regret. And I’ll never be able to take them back.”
He noticed he was opening up to her, and wished he could stop his mouth. But a part of him wanted her to know. Plus, if she understood, then maybe she wouldn’t put it in her report.
Molly bobbed her head.
She looked down at her own drink. “You know, I couldn’t live with myself. Knowing what I’d let you do. How I’d casually let you sacrifice yourself. It nearly killed me.” Her voice was flat, but Giles could tell it was just her way of dealing with the intensity of what she was trying to explain.
He turned in his seat and looked her directly in the eye. “Now you listen to me, Molly Bates. I put myself in that situation. If anyone is to feel guilty, it is me.”
His voice was determined, and stern. “And there’s another thing. You made the call of a leader. You let me make my own decision. Just like Lance did. That’s the mark of a true leader; someone who empowers people to do what they need to do for their own conscience. Not a dictator who tells people what they can and can’t do, like they’re children. It’s true, you can’t run a militia or a nation without some structure… but I’m here to tell you - you made the right call.”
Molly’s chest tightened again, and she felt her solar plexus get heavy. This was a lot to take in, as well as feeling the intensity of her emotions, on top of what she was picking up from Giles. His words were sincere. That much she could feel. And he was passionate about what he was telling her. His guilt was just as real as hers, too.
She wondered how old he really was.
She turned back to her drink and took a swig, draining it. She plunked the empty glass back on the counter, her mood changing instantly.
“We should do tequila shots,” she said more brightly. “That’s the solution to all this seriousness.”
She waved the bartender over, and ordered up a series of shots for them. Giles took one last swig of his grown-up drink, smiling, bemused.
“Tequila it is, then,” he agreed, placing his tumbler on the counter again.
* * *
The team had gone to get pizza, and Arlene had slipped away to do whatever Arlene does when she wasn’t trying to get Giles out of captivity.
Molly and Giles, several shots later, were propped up at the bar. The bartender shift had changed, making them feel like they were the constant there, not the staff.
Molly rested her sleepy head on her hand, her arm on the bar. “So tell me more about this talisman that you risked your arse for the first time?”
Giles adjusted his posture to subconsciously mirror her position. He played with an empty pistachio shell. “Well, it harps back to one of my pet theories I had when I was younger and less cynical.”
Molly smiled, encouraging him to continue.
“Well,” he explained, “we know that this talisman has great significance in the Estarian culture. But I suspect that there is something similar in the Zhyn culture, too.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You mean a talisman?”
Giles nodded. He turned his body, looking for another drink. He found a glass of soda, the ice melted and looking unappealing. He pulled it around in front of him and started sipping it. “Yeah. I think I know where it might be, too.”
Molly frowned.
Giles’s eyes were tired. He was a little drunk, despite his nanocytes - which he suspected had been working overtime recently. A smug smile spread over his lips. “Yup. When I was in the prison, the guy in the cell next to me told me a nursery rhyme…”
Molly grinned mischievously. “Wow, you must have been bored!”
Giles nodded, grinning in agreement. “Yeah, but from what I could tell, it was a part of their folklore. Or so they thought. They even ran school trips up to the place the rhyme referred to: The Moons of Orn.” He paused, taking another sip of the lukewarm soda. “Anyway, I think that’s where they have the Zhyn talisman hidden.”
Molly shook her head, skeptically. “It’s a long shot…”
Giles suddenly became animated, slurring his words a little. “Yeah, but think about it. You’re this mega advanced race, and you want to make sure that, when your children get to the point of having evolved, they can know their history, or signal that they’ve ‘arrived’; how better to seed in the instructions or information they need?”
Molly looked serious but fascinated, as she shifted her head in her hand slightly. “Through stories and nursery rhymes.”
Giles clicked his fingers, but they made no noise. “Exactly!” he said. Molly caught a glimpse of him switching into his lecture mode. She smiled to herself.
“So, what? You’re off to find that next?” she asked. “The next Giles Kurns adventure?”
Giles looked deflated and turned his body back to the bar, hanging his head over his soda. “Depends. The General didn’t think it was relevant when I highlighted it in my report.”
Molly felt for the guy. “Why not?” she asked.
Giles shrugged. “I guess he just thinks it’s another one of my harebrained adventures. That I want to go cuz it will be fun, rather than it being of use to the Federation.”
Molly turned to the bar too, signaling another round of tequilas. “So why do you think it would be of benefit to the Federation?”
Giles sat up a little straighter. “Well, for one, if this theory is in any way accurate, it would mean that there is another race out there. One more evolved and established than even the Kurtherians… Maybe.” His eyes widened in excitement.
The two continued talking well into the wee hours, and through another shift change at the lounge.
The next morning, Giles woke up with a funny feeling in his stomach… like he’d spilled all of his secrets to someone.
But he also had the feeling it was okay. The weight on his shoulders had been lifted.
Aboard ArchAngel, Reynolds’s office
“You know I’ve heard this before from him…” The General eyed Molly carefully. “What makes you so sure?”
Molly lowered her eyes. She didn’t feel comfortable sitting on sofas, talking with the General like they were buddies or something. She preferred him on a holoscreen. A few thousand light years away.
She collected her thoughts. “You know, sir. I’m not sure. I have a feeling in the pit of my stomach, like it’s all related. The talismans, the Moons of Orn he told me about, the Estarian traditions, and realm-walking. Even the stuff that I’ve been experiencing since my… upgrade.”
Lance frowned a little. “You think it might give you answers as to what you’ve been experiencing?”
Molly nodded before forcing herself to look him in the eye. “Yes. I think it might be related.”
The General wiped at his face with one hand, contemplating the new information. Finally, he started bobbing his head.
He got up, straightening his uniform. “Okay. I’ll see what I can do. However,” he said seriously, looking back at her. “You know that new leaders get one fuckup.”
Molly frowned with one eyebrow, tilting her head forward to hear better. “Sir?”
“Ah, you’ve not heard that one yet?” he smiled, folding his arms. He stepped back a little to see her better. “You get one chance to potentially fuck up. Is this what you want to use it on?”
I thought you already used that chance?
Shut up, Oz.
Molly disappeared from behind her eyes, computing the probabilities and the options in her head. Then she seemed to return. “So if I’m right, do I get to retain my chance?”
Ha! Unless they find out about all the fuckups you’ve already made that they don’t know about yet!
Oz, for the love of -
Shutting up.
Lance chuckled, his chest bouncing a little and jostling his folded arms. He uncrossed them. “Yes, Molly. You get your chance back if you’re right on this…” he conceded playfully.
Molly nodded earnestly. “Well, okay then. I’d like to use my chance on this,” she informed him, standing up to leave. “Do you want to tell him, or shall I?”
The General dropped his head, looking at the ground, contemplating. “Allow me… on this one. I need to make a few things clear to him, if he’s going to do this.”
Molly bobbed her head as she rolled her lips awkwardly trying to figure out how to end the meeting.
Lance made it easy for her. He extended his hand for her to shake. “Thank you for your service, Molly Bates. You did a great job out there… and I’m forever grateful to you for bringing Giles back in one piece.”
Molly took his hand. “Sir, it was a pleasure to be able to put this right,” she said.
For a moment, the two servants of the Federation looked into each other’s eyes in mutual understanding of what they were trying to achieve together, and in their relief that Giles had been returned safely.
Molly broke the gaze first, and Lance released her hand. “Let me know when you’re safe back at Gaitune,” he added, realizing that he probably sounded more like her mom than her commanding officer.
Molly mumbled. “Of course, sir. Thank you.” And with that, she made her exit across the office to the sliding doors.
Lance watched her go.
“ADAM,” he said, after the doors had closed.
ADAM responded over the intercom. “Yes, General?”
“Get Giles up here, would you?” he asked, turning to his private office.
“Of course, sir. It looks like he’s just getting up, after a night drinking with Ms. Bates.”
Lance shook his head, taking a deep breath as he disappeared from the reception room. “Of course he is…” he muttered, a slight smile playing across his lips.
Epilogue
Mocha shop near Spire Police Precinct, Spire, Estaria
Detective Chaakwa Indius picked up her mocha at the end of the counter, and, with her toasted sandwich in hand, turned to head out.
She caught a flash of blonde hair over the top of a booth against the far wall. She did a double take.
Can’t be… she thought.
It had been several weeks since that night when she and her father’s friends had arrested the men responsible for his death. She hadn’t had the chance to thank Molly. She was obviously staying out of sight - save for that appearance on the rooftop of the building across the street.
Chaakwa shook her head to herself. She was seeing things. It was her mind playing tricks on her, because she felt it was unfinished business. She strode down the length of the counter toward the doors, glancing back just to confirm it was someone else.
The woman had her head turned from view, but as Chaakwa’s gaze stayed fixed on her, the woman turned her head. Chaakwa slowed her walk, and then stopped.
It was her.
Without thinking, Chaakwa turned around and wove her way through the tables cluttered with people and mochas. She slipped quietly and uninvited into the booth, her sandwich forgotten on the seat next to her, and her mocha placed on the table.
The woman turned and looked at her. “Was wondering how I might get your attention,” Molly said, smiling at her.
Chaakwa was lost for words. She sat looking at Molly, with her mouth moving, but no sound coming out.
Molly waited patiently, understanding all too well what it took to deal with words and emotions at the same time.
Eventually, words started coming from her throat, her voice cracking. “Molly,” she started. “I can’t begin to tell you how grateful I am to you. What you and your team did for me - for my father - is incredible. I’m… Thank you.”
Molly lowered her eyes, feeling them well up with her own emotion. When she looked up again, she could see Chaakwa was choking up, too.
“Chaakwa, it was my pleasure,” she told the detective. “It was an honor to help you bring these people to justice, and we certainly owed you one for everything you did to help us bring down the Syndicate. I just wanted you to know that this wasn’t a favor. You earned this. And you helped us take those men off the street so they can’t hurt anyone else.”
Chaakwa nodded her understanding. The two women looked at each other for a moment longer, and then Molly slipped out of the booth.
“I’ll be seeing ya,” she said gently. And then she disappeared across the mocha shop and out the door.
Chaakwa sat for a few moments, relieved that she’d had the chance to thank her friend for everything she had done. She had justice. And closure. She could get on with her life.
She shuffled back out of the booth, mocha and sandwich in hand, feeling like a new person.
FINIS
Cloaked
The Ascension Myth Book 7
Chapter 1
Aboard the ArchAngel, Commons Lounge
Giles ambled up to the young man sitting with his back to the bar in a booth. The lounge was mostly quiet and empty, on account of the early morning hour.
“Uncle Lance?” Giles approached him, looking a little worse for wear.
Lance looked up from his coffee as if awoken from a day dream. “Giles. Morning. Er… do sit down,” he said, gesturing to the seat across from him.
Giles shuffled in, and nodded to the server at the bar offering him coffee. He turned his attention immediately back to Lance. “You okay?” he asked, noticing the chewed cigar abandoned on the table.
“I’m fine,” Lance answered. “I’ve just been up a while.”
Giles paused, waiting for more information.
Lance pushed his coffee mug forward a little, and wiped his hand over his face. “It’s the Federation stuff. It’s all getting a little… silly… if you ask me.”
Giles tilted his head, questioningly. The server had come over with a fresh cup and the coffee. He poured one for Giles and then topped up the General’s before quietly disappearing out of earshot.
Giles grabbed for some whitener at the end of the table and started stirring it into the tar-black nectar. “What’s going on?” he asked, concerned.
Lance shrugged. “Oh, the usual. The Leath for one. Pressures for us to disarm generally. Meanwhile, others are assembling their forces month by month, like they think we don’t know what they’re doing.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “Anyway,” Lance continued, “nothing for you to worry about. I just wanted to speak with you before you disappeared off on one of your goose chases.”
Giles eyes brightened in interest. He took a slurp of his coffee and then set the mug down. “Oh?”
Lance had a little twinkle in his eye. “Yes. And don’t pretend. I know you’re heading off to Orn with or without my blessing.”
Giles started to protest, but Lance held his hand up. “Ah, now, now. Come on. I’ve known you since you were in diapers. I’ve witnessed or had reports on every stunt you’ve ever pulled, remember.”
Giles settled his indignation and resigned himself to hearing the General out.
Lance smiled gently. “So, I was going to give you my blessing for Orn. But,” he continued quickly before Giles could get too excited. “I need weekly reports from you on this.”
The General paused, and Giles took the opportunity to clarify. “Meaning, it’s an official trip?”
Lance nodded. “It is. And if you’re right about this talisman stuff, it affects the Federation directly. But it’s a complex situation. The Zhyn are friends now, but they still haven’t joined the Federation, proper. Bottom line, you need to tread very carefully out there - which means no inciting hostility.”
Giles nodded obediently.
“Plus,” Lance continued, “after what you put us all through with getting yourself taken hostage, I’d be more comfortable being kept up-to-date with your whereabouts. Remember, the whole Federation may report to me, but when you’re on one of these hair-brained missions, I end up reporting to your mother.”
Giles sniggered, carefully placing his coffee mug down again, for fear of spilling or snorting it. He took a moment to compose himself. “Okay, Uncle Lance. I hear you. Loud and clear.”
Lance smiled. “Good. Coz heaven forbid, anything happens to you, we’d all have our heads on the chopping block.”
Giles bobbed his head and took another sip of coffee. “So… Moons of Orn, and then Estaria?”
The General suddenly looked a little confused. He frowned. “Estaria?”
Giles nodded. “Yeah. I mean, the parent talisman I had there and then took to Estaria was one I found on Earth. It’s a long story. That means we haven’t found any more pieces that originated in the Estarian culture proper. And with what I showed you and Molly about the similarities in the genetic make-up of the Zhyn and Estarians, it seems only logical that there will be one in Estarian culture.”
Lance grunted and Giles continued. “Well, Arlene and I both believe that there are cultural similarities too. Like similarities in their ascension myths…”
Lance frowned. “You mean, you think they’re both talking about the same phenomenon?”
Giles’s face lit up. “Exactly!”
Reynolds rubbed his chin, his elbows resting on the table. “Hmm. Yes, Molly had mentioned as much.”
“Molly?” Giles asked, curious.
Lance nodded. “Yeah, she was also interested in getting answers about this.”
Giles thought for a moment. “You mean, because of her realm jumping thing?”
Lance took a slurp of coffee, and then pushed the mug away, deciding he’d had enough. “Yes, I believe so.” He paused, watching Giles’s reactions carefully. “Do you think it’s related?”
Giles nodded. “Almost certainly. There’s a bigger picture we’re not seeing yet. I think gathering these two fragments, the oracle from Orn, and whatever the Estarian equivalent is, will give us some definitives to work with.”
Lance took a deep breath. “Well, you have my blessing.” He paused, settling back in the seat. “You’ll be taking Arlene with you, of course?”
Giles looked resistant for a moment before quickly realizing that the suggestion Lance had made wasn’t quite a suggestion. He gathered his thoughts. “Yes, Uncle Lance. I’ll be taking Arlene to babysit me,” he teased.
Lance’s face relaxed a little. “Very good,” he acknowledged. “So tell me, this ‘do’ your mother is organizing tomorrow. What time does it start?”
Aboard the ArchAngel, Comms Room AA19
Arlene sat immersed in her holo screens, her audio implants tuning out the sounds around her, and playing a brain synch track to help her focus. She scrolled through one of the holo documents, trying to figure out if there was a connection between that and the other account she had been reading.
She felt a nudge on her shoulder.
She turned, half expecting it to have been a random muscle spasm. Or even a sensation from the realm jumping she had been doing earlier. When she concentrated hard, she could sometimes lose her grounding.
But then she saw that there was someone standing there just behind her.
She flicked her audio to ambient and looked up. “Oh, Giles... you scared me!” she said, a hint of annoyance in her voice.
Giles pulled up a console chair next to her. “No, I didn’t,” he told her. “You could have an armed warrior sneak up next to you and you’d be ready to poke his eyes out with your elbow.
Arlene turned back to her document, her face perfectly straight. “That is true.”
Giles chuckled. “So, I have news,” he offered.
Arlene continued studying her screens, flicking between one and another as if she were on the brink of a meaningful breakthrough. “Uh huh,” she muttered.
Giles leaned back in his chair. “Yeah. You want the good news, or the bad?”
Arlene leaned up a little, and turned her head towards him. She narrowed her eyes. “Gimme the bad first. Always.”
Giles grinned. “The bad news is, I need to take you with me.”
Arlene tried her best to look annoyed. “And the good news?”
Giles’s grin spread a little wider. “The good news is the General has put us onto the Orn thing. We can leave whenever we want.” He rocked a little in the console chair, waiting for the praise to follow.
Arlene didn’t answer and went back to her screens.
Giles sat up suddenly. “What? What’s the problem?” he pressed.
Arlene put her holo screens down and turned to him. “What’s the problem?” she repeated his question, a hint of frustration in her voice now.
Giles eyes opened in bewilderment. “Yeah.”
Arlene clasped her hands together on her lap. “I’ll tell you what the problem is! Apart from the fact that not a matter of weeks ago you went and surrendered your sorry ass to a known terrorist organization. Apart from that, and the hell you put us all through... you left me.”
Giles’s eyes wrinkled up in confusion. “What? When?” he asked, searching his memory.
Arlene frowned at him. “Seventy years ago. We had a row, and I thought we were going to figure it out. And then I came home one evening and you were just... gone.”
Giles’s mouth dropped open. “I left because you told me to!”
Arlene scowled at him. “I did no such thing!”
Giles was caught completely off guard. There was a second’s silence while his brain scrambled to recall the events of that night.
“You did!” he protested. “You said that if I wasn’t ready to settle down, and stop the juvenile adventure trips where I’d disappear for weeks on end, you thought that it would be better that I didn’t come back. So, I took you at your word.”
Arlene shook her head. “Those things... we say things like that in arguments. That’s just what people say in the heat of the moment.”
Giles shook his head, taking his glasses from his face. “Well, I didn’t know that. I thought you wanted me to go …”
Arlene shook her head, her anger lifting to reveal the old pain. “No. It was... silly. And, in the Estarian way of doing discussions, it’s just a point of negotiation.”
Giles suddenly seemed to disappear from behind his eyes.
Arlene tapped him on the leg. “Hey. Where did you go?”
Giles’s mouth hung open for a moment before he returned to his senses. “I’ve just realized... a whole bunch of interactions have just made sense. Although …” he added, cleaning his glasses and putting them back on his face, “The common denominator wasn’t the Estarian thing. It was more the female thing.”
Arlene didn’t hesitate. She slapped the side of his leg. This time quite hard.
“Owwww!” He protested, rubbing the point of impact hard. “That’s-”
“No less than you deserve!” she said, finishing his sentence for him.
He looked down at his leg where he was rubbing. “That’s going to give me a painful lump,” he told her.
“Humpft,” she scoffed, turning back to her work. “Don’t forget, alien-boy, I know about the nanocytes. Your exaggerations and fibs aren’t going to work on me, like it works on your floozies.”
“Floozies?” Giles repeated, looking shocked, and yet vaguely amused at this revelation.
Suddenly his mood changed, and he scooted his antigrav console chair a little closer to Arlene. “So, er... do I assume from all of this that you still have…”
Arlene scooted her chair back from him. “No. No, it does not. Not even a little bit. That ship has well and truly sailed.”
Giles backed his chair up a little too. “Well, erm... okay then.” He removed his glasses again, and started cleaning them, a little embarrassed this time.
Arlene smiled. “No,” she concluded. “Too much water under the bridge,” she explained more gently now. “And though you’re easy on the eye, your boyish charm just doesn’t do anything for me anymore.”
Giles sighed and slumped back in his chair. His eyes looked a little dull, as if he’d suffered an actual disappointment.
Arlene turned back to her holoscreens. “Anyway, no need to look so glum,” she told him. “From the sound of it we have another mission.”
Giles eyed her carefully. “So, you’re okay with working with me again?”
Arlene nodded, still not looking at him. “Oh yes,” she answered simply. “I just needed to clear the air.”
“The air I didn’t know was smoggy,” he mumbled.
Arlene half turned her face as if responding to his comment, but didn’t manage to peel her eyes from her holos. “In fact,” she told him, “I’ve been doing a little cross checking with your nursery rhyme.”
Giles sat up and pulled himself closer again, peering over at her holos. “Oh yeah?”
Arlene picked up one screen. “Yep. I think I’ve narrowed it down to three possible moons. We’ll know more when we get close and we can see the exact arrangement of the moons now. I think this data we’re using is pretty old, and then we need to wait for the alignment... or calculate it... but in any case, I think we have a way forward.”
Giles looked at her, half smiling. “You mean, you’ve been working on this without telling me? All this time?”
Arlene nodded. “Not just a pretty face, you know.”
Giles got up. “Right then,” he announced.
Arlene spun around, her clever discovery forgotten. “Where are you going?” she demanded.
Giles grinned. “We’re going to need some wheels. With gate capabilities.”
And with that, he strode out of the dimly lit comms room, and disappeared into the bright corridor beyond.
Arlene shook her head, sighed, and returned her attention to her screens to set up her calculations.
Gaitune-67, Base Gym
Thump.
Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. THWACK.
Sean hit the deck for the third time that session.
Joel padded over to him. “You okay?” he asked, offering him a hand up. “Want a break?”
Sean, panting, lifted his head up, and then pulled his arms underneath him. A second later he sprang to his feet from a laying down position, ignoring Joel’s outstretched hand. “No. I’m good,” he said, looking fatigued, and more than a little irritated. “Let’s go again,” he affirmed.
Joel nodded, and stepped back a little, waiting for the agreed signal to attack. Or rather, in this instance, waiting for Sean to lunge forward and try to blitz him.
This time Sean hung back and switched stances a few times. Joel edged in a little further, looking loose and relaxed in his movement. Sean tried to copy his relaxed air, but he was just too tired. And invested.
A second later, he was on his back - again - realizing that Joel had just moved in and swept him as he bounced, contemplating his next move.
Crash had appeared in the doorway. “Ouch. That’s got to hurt!” he muttered under his breath. Neither Joel nor Sean realized he was there.
“Okay. What have you done?” Sean asked, gazing up at the ceiling from his lying down position.
Joel looked innocent. “How do you mean?” he said, ambling over again.
Sean was sweating. He put his hand out for Joel to help him up this time. Joel took his hand, heaving him up to standing.
“You’ve done something,” Sean insisted. “Like upgraded. There is no way you can just suddenly start moving that fast.”
Sean thought about it a moment more. “In fact, this extra speed only happened since we got back from the ArchAngel. You’ve had another implant!”
Joel pretended to look offended. “Another implant?”
Sean narrowed his eyes. “Oh yeah. I know about your original upgrade. Fuck knows how you managed it because it was before you knew anyone on the ArchAngel. But those sudden increases in your performance... no way that’s natural, mate.”
Joel smiled knowingly, but didn’t respond.
Just then Brock arrived at the door next to Crash, and the two warriors became aware that they were being watched.
Joel looked sheepish, but clammed up. Sean realized there was no way he was going to admit anything in front of the others. He changed the subject, wandering over to the edge of the mat to grab his towel. “You guys want in?” he called over to Crash and Brock.
“Helllz no!” Brock called back to him. “I’m working my sweet ass to get fighting fit, for sure. But no way am I gonna risk messing this pretty face up with some macho bravado.”
Crash was quiet, still hanging on to the door frame. His muscles bulged a little more than Joel remembered.
“Hey,” Joel called over to him. “You been working out more since we got back?” he asked Crash. “Or are you just pumped?”
Crash bobbed his head and glanced at Brock. “We’ve been hitting the weight room most days since we got back.”
Brock did a little swing of his hips. “Yeah. I’m gonna be ready next time we get sent over to that APA again!”
Joel raised his chin. “Ahhhh. I see. It’s the Were Cat thing, eh?”
Brock nodded vigorously. “Yeah. I dunno what hope we’re supposed to have against one of those cats even if we train, but I figured our odds are better if we’re in condition. Plus, the better the skills we have, the more chance we have of surviving.”
Sean was taking a long drink from his water bottle. He finished and put the lid back on. “Yeah, that’s always my philosophy. So how’s the six-pack coming, Brock?”
Brock laughed. “Ha! More like a jelly pack right now. But I’m working on it!”
Crash chuckled and patted his friend on the back. “He’s doing great,” he told them.
Brock slapped him playfully on the arm. “You’re teasing me.”
Crash opened his mouth to protest, but Brock had already changed the subject. “Hey, anyone seen Molly this afternoon?” he asked.
Crash stuck out his lower lip and shook his head. Sean and Joel shrugged. Then Joel remembered something. “Ah, yes. I think she’s out auditing a lecture or something on Estaria.”
Brock frowned. “Auditing a lecture. What for?”
Joel shrugged again. “No idea. Have to ask her when she gets back. Later tonight, probably. Think she put a food order in with Paige, so she should be around later.”
Brock nodded his understanding. “Alrighty then! Thanks Joel.” He turned to Crash. “I’m gonna hit the shower.”
Crash slapped him on the back. “All right, bud. I’m going to do a round with these guys. Time to start pushing myself,” he said, stepping into the room.
Sean was drinking water again. He took the bottle from his lips and pointed at Joel. “Go against him first,” he said. “I’m having a time out.”
Chapter 2
Aboard the Scamp Princess
Giles arrived on the Scamp Princess through the cargo hold. “It’s okay! I’m here!” he called through to Arlene. “Scamp, you can close up the doors now,” he added.
The computer-generated voice spoke to him over the in-ship communication system. “Okay, Giles. Closing doors. Did you get your message sent okay?”
“Yes, thank you,” Giles frowned, fixing his single pack of luggage to a rack. “How did you know?”
Scamp responded matter-of-factly. “Arlene wanted to know where you were. ADAM would only tell me you were in the comms department, and that you were on your way over. I assumed you were sending someone a long-distance message before we left on our adventure. I mean, mission.”
Giles smiled at the EI’s dig at him and his attitude towards missions. “Ah ha. Arlene wanted to know where I was?” he repeated, like a grownup talking to a child.
Arlene turned her head as he wandered into the cockpit. “Arlene did,” she confirmed.
Scamp clicked on again. “She also wanted to know what you were communicating to whom, but ADAM wouldn’t give us clearance for that.”
Arlene looked suddenly guilty. Giles looked vindicated. “Well, it’s good that at least ADAM has some integrity around here,” he jested with them. “So, are we all set?”
Arlene spun back around in her console chair. “Yes. We were about to miss our window, but I think we’ll be okay if we leave now.”
She flicked a switch, starting the engines.
Giles could see she had the pilot’s console up. Normally, with anyone else, except maybe Sean Royale, he might argue. But today, with Arlene... he was quite happy to be a passenger. He made himself comfortable in the next console over and strapped himself in. “Okay. Well, what are we waiting for?”
Arlene rolled her eyes, and gave the command. “Okay, Scamp. Let’s get going, now that his royal tardie-ass has arrived!”
The Scamp Princess lifted up off the hangar deck of the ArchAngel and made its way out into the blackness of space.
“The Giles Kurns Adventures continue,” Giles muttered to himself as he relaxed back in the chair, interlocking his fingers behind his head.
Staðall University, Spire, Lecture Theater 21
The lights along the walls of the lecture theater flashed, signaling to both the students and teacher that the allocated time had come to a close.
Professor Abigail Von paused mid-sentence, before finishing her point.
“And for those who have volunteered for the next Think Tank session, make sure you review chapters twenty through to twenty-two. It will make the decision-making and discussion much easier on your counterparts when you plug in if you’ve done the reading!”
The theater erupted in activity as students scrambled to their feet. Molly was sitting quietly, dressed all in black. She was in the back row and out of the way, watching, expecting a mass exodus.
But that didn’t happen. At least a quarter of the two hundred and something students raced towards the front and seemed to gather around Von, hanging on her every word.
Molly frowned, watching carefully, waiting for the activity to clear. When it didn’t, confused, she allowed herself to also be drawn down to the front of the room.
“…Yes, and if they had considered that in the first place, you could say it would have been another variable. But as it was, it was indeed forgotten. Well spotted though, Johnny.”
Abigail Von seemed to be having a discussion with one of the students as the others listened in rapt attention. As soon as she finished responding there was a respectful clamor for her to choose them as the next question.
Von glanced up at Molly as she made her way down the steps, obviously a little old to be in the class she had been teaching. Von was distracted for a second, but then turned her attention back to the immediate consideration. “I’m afraid we’re out of time, folks. You need to get to your next lecture, and I need to eat something before supervising a discussion. If you don’t have a class next, you’re welcome to attend.”
The remaining students started to disband and make their way up and out of the doors at the back of the theater.
Von packed up her things and started to head out herself, too. Molly battled against the current and managed to catch Von as she headed towards the doors on the lower level, presumably reserved for the faculty, Molly guessed.
“Professor Von?” Molly called over the hub of activity as she landed on the ground level.
Abigail turned around and looked at her.
Molly quick stepped over. “I was wondering if we might speak. I have a proposition for you.”
Von was already biting into an apple. She kept walking towards the door, now with Molly in tow. Clearing her palate, she leaned against the door and nudged it open. “Are you okay to walk and talk? I need to be across campus in twenty minutes, and I’d like to eat as well.”
Molly smiled, helping her through the door as she shuffled without a free hand between her bag, water flask and half-eaten apple. “Sure. Let me help you,” she offered as she pushed the door.
Von led her through what seemed to be a dumping ground for old equipment and abandoned experiments. Then, through another two sets of doors, they seemed to arrive in a corridor that was beyond the lecture theater and back in the main building, only another level down from where the students had spilled out.
Von glanced over at Molly since more of her attention was available now that they were en route. “So, how can I help?” she asked.
Molly had considered her pitch and began speaking immediately. “You’re the foremost authority in interplanetary negotiations. I need someone like that for a special project. Someone like you,” she clarified.
Von frowned. “You’re not planning on starting a war, are you?”
Molly chuckled, having never considered that that might have been why she was asking. “No. Not in the slightest. I’m looking for someone who can help avoid future wars.”
Von glanced over at her as the two women strode purposefully down the stark white corridor. “Oh, I’m not taking on any consulting gigs right now,” she said dismissively.
Molly shook her head, looking straight ahead of where they were going. “Not consulting. Teaching.”
Von’s pace slowed a little. Molly could feel through the space, using her new abilities. She could tell the academic was curious. “I have a job teaching,” she told her, gesticulating with the remains of her apple at the surroundings as way of evidence.
Molly smiled. “I know,” she responded simply. “A different teaching job. But still here.”
Von’s pace slowed again as her mind worked to put the pieces of information together. Her slim brown eyebrows furrowed together.
“Here, at this university?” she asked, looking confused.
Molly nodded. “The long-term goal is to start a university for the next generation of leaders.”
Von started walking again, this time a little more slowly than her initial, harassed pace. “We already have places that do that. Like the military. And the elite universities that educate the best and the brightest in law, history and politics.”
Molly bowed her head respectfully as they journeyed down another corridor. “Yes, I’m aware of that. And what they’re taught doesn’t coincide with what they could be taught. Things that will ultimately lead to making better decisions - decisions that aren’t based on greed, or fear, or commerce. But on methods to resolve conflicts and create stability for the whole population, not just the few who can afford to buy influence in politics.”
The corridor opened out into a stone building, and the two headed through the foyer of what looked like an original piece of architecture from when the university had been founded.
The foyer then gave way to a hall, which in turn turfed them out into a quadrangle. “So what are you suggesting they be taught instead?” Von pressed, tossing her apple core into a refuse disposal chute as they passed by.
Molly clasped her hands behind her back now as she spoke. “The practical strategies that actually mean a better life for all involved. The policies that mean a sustainable system which don’t rely on versions of financial enslavement. How to build economies so they are healthy rather than corrupt. How to ensure justice for all, no matter what their background, gender or skin color.”
Von almost smirked. “That’s sounding a little… ambitious. Which organization did you say you were from?” she asked a little suspiciously now.
Molly stopped walking, forcing Von to turn and look at her. “I’m not from an organization. But I do have the means to fund this venture. And in the first instance, all I want to do is prove a concept. Prove that this is something that can work, even just with one course.”
A gaggle of students walked by, laughing and joking loudly. Von shot them a look, and they quietened down a little.
She turned her attention back to Molly. “So why me?”
Molly shrugged, watching the students head across the rest of the quadrangle in the direction they had been walking. “You’re the capital city’s leading authority on Estarian-Ogg trade relations. I checked you out. It’s because of you that there is an ensuing peace between these two inner system planets, which could otherwise have been disastrous without your mediation a couple of decades ago.”
A frown appeared across Von’s perfectly manicured human eyebrows. “So you want me to teach trade relations?” she deduced.
Molly nodded. “Yes. But as a container for this bigger vision. Making it clear that this is why the method of negotiation is important. Why co-operation is always the most beneficial to all sides.”
Von looked thoughtful for a moment. “Well it is true. I can think of several instances during my career that would support that conjecture…”
Molly’s face was serious. “I’ve read a number of your papers. I believe your work is instrumental in not just the fate of our inner system, and Sark, but beyond, too. But it needs a platform. We need more people who understand it, and can operate from this place effectively.”
Von started walking again, and Molly quickened to keep up with her.
Molly continued talking. “I’m advocating we start a course. Right here, within your department, to test the concept. If it gathers traction, and we think it’s worth continuing, then we’ll expand. If it doesn’t, we’ll never need run it again.”
Von glanced over as they headed up the steps into another building. “Sounds reasonable,” she said, non-committally.
Molly followed her through the door. “Have a think about it, and then reach out and let’s talk. Here are my holo details,” she said, pulling up a screen on her holo so she could bump the information over.
Von hit a screen, and then held her wrist out. Molly bumped her holo against Von’s. The professor looked down, checking it had registered. “Okay. Got it,” she confirmed.
Molly noticed another horde of students heading in through another door. Probably a classroom. “What’s up next?” she asked, curious as to what all the excitement was about.
Von lifted her eyes to the ceiling as she shifted her bag on her shoulder. “Think Tank time,” she explained.
Molly looked puzzled.
Von explained quickly. “The folks involved in the discussion plug into a hive mind of their colleagues and discuss the solution to various historical problems.”
Molly turned her ear as if straining to hear.
Von grinned. “It’s group-think at its most advanced.” She hesitated. “Trouble is, it needs to be limited and supervised. The effects produce quite a high, and then there is a come down when it’s time to unplug.”
Her eyes dropped to the floor for a moment. “We had a problem a couple of years ago where students were plugging in for days at a time. Missing classes. Missing meals. And then of course when they had to deal with the disconnection.”
Her face turned grim, and she lowered her eyes. “Well, you can imagine…”
Molly nodded her understanding, amazed that such technology was now being used in education.
Von made her way through the door behind the students who were gathering to be a part of the session. She called back to Molly. “You’re welcome to join us. To observe… if you like,” she offered.
Molly beamed. “I’d love to!” she exclaimed, following her new contact into the fray.
Erm. I hope you’re not considering hooking us up to this… thing. Whatever it is.
It had crossed my mind.
That was what I was afraid of.
Come on, Oz. What’s the worst that could happen?
Er… you allow all these students to access your thoughts. And me? You overload the system with the data we manage? You fry their brains. Need I go on?
Molly went quiet.
Okay.
…
…
We’ll just observe.
…
…
For now.
Molly disappeared into the room, and the doors closed behind her.
Gaitune-67, Base conference room
“Why don’t you just take them out? You have the resources. The firepower.”
Molly was nearly an hour into a briefing with the General, and only just starting to understand the deeper problems the Federation was facing.
Lance sighed as he leaned in closer to the holo. “We do. Except we don’t know what else is on there. We don’t know what they’re planning, or who truly is behind it. We have a hint that the Leath are involved, but we haven’t got enough physical proof to go to war.”
Molly’s brow furrowed as she grappled with the problem. “And blowing up the ship would be an act of war?”
Reynolds nodded. “Plus, it gives them the scope to say that there was nothing untoward going on there. We know there tends to be paperwork to support these missions. Papers that say that it was straightforward commercial goods, like farming equipment, or whatever.”
Molly thought for a moment. She cocked her head. “But your sources say it’s equipment for fracking?”
“Yes,” Lance confirmed. “But of course, ADAM can’t be physically on the ship to verify that, which is why we need people with bodies to go and check it out.”
Molly narrowed one eye, still thinking. “But fracking isn’t illegal on an uninhabited planet you have the rights to.”
Lance chewed on his cigar. “This is true. But the shipments have been ending up on Teshov.”
Molly nodded her head slowly in realization, mulling what that meant.
After a moment she had another thought. “I take it you don’t want us to stop them and board them, in an official capacity? You’d have people to do that, if that were the case.”
Reynolds smiled. “You catch on fast. I am suggesting you do this... under cover.”
Molly eyes lit up in secret excitement.
Lance seemed to read her thoughts. “You’d need to stay out of it, of course. Just in case they need your leadership from outside the ship. Or in case they were discovered. You’d need to have a way of getting them out, without bringing the federation into it.”
Molly’s eye crinkled up in concern. “You wouldn’t back us up?”
Lance sat back. “I can’t be seen to. It would drag us into a war. And that’s exactly what we’re trying to avoid. That is why the Sanguine Squadron exists, remember.”
Molly sat back in her seat, subconsciously mirroring his movements, and taking a deep breath.
After a moment she spoke again. “Okay, boss. Let me talk to the team, and see what kind of plan we can come up with. The exit strategy seems like it might be the sticking point here.”
The General nodded. “Okay. Let me know how you get on. The ship leaves in two weeks, and you’ll need time to infiltrate the crew before it leaves from Estaria.”
Molly stood up. “Yes sir,” she confirmed, giving him a salute.
The General returned the salute and ended the call.
“Close holo,” Molly said, giving the instruction to fold the holoscreen away into the table. She rearranged the chair she’d been sitting in, tucking it away under the table, and then wandered out of the open door.
Neechie was standing there, watching her leave.
“Come on Neech,” she chirped, wiggling her fingers to encourage him to follow. The pair wandered down the corridor, Molly deep in thought, and Neechie looking like he was considering his next realm jump with his apprentice.
Chapter 3
Gaitune-67, Molly’s conference room
Sean and Oz had been verbally jousting. Sean’s face firmed in tension as he shifted in his chair. “That’s not what I’m saying, Oz. All I said was that you have an ability to change how you ‘feel’ about things, and so it’s not that important to worry about your feelings being hurt.”
Oz spoke over the room’s comm system. “I don’t see how that follows. If I were an organic entity, would you be saying that?”
Sean’s brow wrinkled in frustration. “Yeah but you’re not, so it’s pointless considering it.”
Jack raised her eyebrows. “Actually…” she started.
Joel was observing from the other end of the room. He folded his arms and leaned against the wall watching with interest.
Jack continued. “I think the point that Oz is trying to make is valid. If you had a human who was adaptable, or just thick skinned, would you be more considerate of their feelings?”
Sean dropped his head into his hands, defeated. Joel continued to watch. He knew Sean was old, but surely not old enough to have been around before EIs were designated Entities with rights and personhood.
Just then, Molly breezed in. “Greetings folks,” she said brightly.
Sean looked up an expression of relief on his face.
Molly plonked herself down in the chair nearest Sean. “Looks like we’ve got a new puzzle to crack,” she told them. “One that includes some undercover work.” She grinned like the cat who had got the cream.
Sean’s eye brightened too. “Do tell, our esteemed leader!” he said, turning to look at her, and then shuffling his chair round.
Joel pushed off the wall and came to sit at the table with the others. Jack swiveled her chair to face Molly, her conflict of opinions with Sean relegated to off-duty kitchen talk for later.
Molly called out to Oz. “Oz, could you bring up the shipping route the General just shared with us please?” She tilted her chin up so that she could hear him through the room’s intercom. She found that she was talking to Oz out loud more and more so she didn’t have to explain herself for the purpose of those who didn’t inhabit her synapses.
“Of course,” Oz responded, activating the holoscreen against the safe house conference room wall.
Molly glanced at each of her team members as she spoke. “This is a shipping route between Estaria and Teshov. It’s mostly used by heavy industry carriers. Equipment, technology and the like. This one here,” she indicated by highlighting a route and a profile picture of a cargo ship, “is a ship that does a run every four months or so. We have no idea what is truly being transported. The ship’s manifest says it’s farming equipment.”
Joel leaned his arms on the table. “And is there a reason we suspect this isn’t the case?” he asked, looking for the reason that this was an assignment.
Molly lowered her head. “A number of reasons. Lemme run you through them.”
She pulled up a screen on her holo. It had a lot of graphs and numbers on it. Sean scratched his head as he studied the hologram.
Molly began her explanation. “This is seismic activity that has been occurring on Teshov. What we’re looking at is the base line activity that has been happening naturally for the last few hundred years.”
She opened another screen, pushing it over to sit next to the current one. “This is recent activity, in the last six months. As you can see, it is much more regular, and more destructive. In fact, when ADAM noticed this, he cross-referenced it with known profiles for this kind of planet and found that the activity is consistent with core mining.”
Joel frowned, pulling his eyes from the screen to Molly. “Core mining? But there are people living on Teshov. Surely that’s—”
Jack finished his sentence. “Illegal? Reckless? Immoral?”
Molly nodded. “All of the above,” she agreed, her face looking more serious now. “Which is why we need to find out what’s going on. The Federation suspects this shipment may have something to do with it.”
She flicked some more data up on another screen. Then another two screens, each with profile pictures of people on them. “This is Lana Rey. She’s been support personnel on legal core mining expeditions on various rocks in the asteroid belt.”
She nodded in the direction of the second image. “This is Dr. Ainstel Brahms. He is one of Estaria’s foremost seismologists. He specializes in energy from geological events — earthquakes, glacial movement, magnetic pole drift. The works.”
Jack sat back. “So what? They’re involved?”
Molly shook her head. “They’ve gone missing. Brahms hasn’t shown up for work at his government research project in over eight days now. Rey is also missing from her job in Uptarlung.”
Joel leaned forward, looking concerned. “And how have we linked them to the shipment?”
Molly flicked back to the original screen with the shipping data on it. “ADAM has done some analysis of transportation paths, and looked at what has coincided with the seismic activity. Allowing for two to 21 days to set up equipment and start drilling to place the charges, he’s filtered through the ships arriving at Teshov, and taken into account only those that were large enough to be transporting equipment. He noticed a pattern. And their point of origin was always Estaria. And actually — always one ship — the one we looked at several screens back.”
Sean watched the details on the screen with intense concentration.
Molly waved her arm over at the hologram. “We think that the personnel have been kidnapped to help on this project. ADAM estimates that if they make even the slightest error in their drilling works, the outer core could create enough environmental disturbance that life on the planet could be wiped out in a matter of days after the event.”
Jack’s mouth dropped open, her eyes fixed on the screen trying to make sense of what they were hearing. Joel leaned forward, as if trying to hear better.
Molly continued her discourse. “ADAM has also advised us that the most likely ship for this next trip with the scientists, and probably more equipment for boring deeper, is this one.”
The screen changed, displaying an image of a cargo ship. Molly shifted slightly in her chair, looking over at Jack and Joel. “It’s the only one that is leaving this month. It’s unlikely they would want to hold the hostages for longer than this. Personally, I’m surprised they’re possibly holding them this long. If I were in their shoes, I’d be wanting to do the snatch just ahead of the ship leaving.”
She shrugged, thinking for a moment before continuing. “Unless they’ve already sent them on in a people carrier. ADAM suspects not, simply because of the large distances involved, and these guys don’t have access to our travel tech.”
Joel had put his hand over his mouth as he listened. He removed it to speak. “You mean, our pods?”
Molly closed her eyes and nodded once. “Pods, or whatever. Meaning we have an advantage.” She took a deep breath and leaned back in her seat, dimming the holograms, and raising the lights from her holo. “The thing is if we just blow the ship up, we kill the hostages. If we board, we lose the opportunity to find out what is really going on and who is behind this operation.”
Jack raised her hand at shoulder height, as she leaned on the desk. “But isn’t that preferable to letting them continue on?”
Molly bobbed her head. “Yes, and ADAM is concerned that whoever is behind this might be doing it in other systems too. It’s not just the Teshov population that is at risk. And if one shipment goes missing, the operation will still survive. This makes it more of a weeding exercise.” She looked off to one side, pulling her mouth onto one side of her face, considering her own words.
She didn’t correct herself.
Sean turned to her. “So what you’re suggesting is that we go undercover on this ship, as... crew?”
Molly nodded. “Yes. Oz will create personas for you. He’ll make sure you have proper cover stories and reasons for being there, and then once on board you can dig around and see what’s what.”
It was Joel’s turn to chip in. “You’re using the second person a lot here. Does this mean you’re not coming with us?”
Molly nodded, unaware she was sticking out her bottom lip. “The General has recommended that I stay in a position off the ship, in case you need an extraction.”
She paused and looked at Joel. “In fact, he’s recommended that at least some of the team stay back.”
Sean started to speak, an air of agitation taking over his demeanor. Molly’s look of sadness lifted and was replaced with humor in her eyes. She quickly held her hand up to him. “It’s okay Sean. We’ll make sure you’re in the undercover crew,” she said shaking her head. “But we need a plan, and then we’ll select who else is best placed to follow that plan.”
She looked to Joel. “This is your op, chap. I’ll take your recommendations once you and Oz have had a chance to review the intel from ADAM. It’s unlikely that the crew are going to need military skills, though. Generally. From what Oz has already looked at, the more ‘normal’ these folks are, the more chance they have of going undetected in this cargo shipping scenario.”
Joel nodded, snatching a glance at Sean, before looking back at Molly. “Understood,” he said, quietly pleased he might be able to stay and protect Molly from the outside should she need to get into the fray at some point.
“Great!” Molly said, brighter now that the information dump had been complete. “Let’s meet back here tomorrow with a game plan, and then we can bring the others in on our next move.”
The warriors nodded their agreements and started getting up to leave.
Molly was the first one up and out of the door.
Why are you in such a hurry?
Conference call with Von.
Of course. I’d not put that on your official schedule, since it’s technically an off-book hobby.
Good thing you’re not my PA, eh?
Hmmm. I’m sure your holo has a function for that.
It does. That’s why I remembered! Unbelievable. I have an AI in my head and I’m having to separate which things are projects and which are work.
She tutted to herself as she strode out to the kitchen to grab a protein drink, and then headed back down to the ops room.
Gaitune-67, Ops Room
Molly sat in the ops room on her usual console.
“So what did they say?” she asked, sitting back in the invisible, movement-responsive sofa, her cup of lemon water in hand.
Von responded over the enhanced holo connection. “The board is agreeable. Well, they became agreeable, after they were reminded how it would make the institution look like a trailblazer.” Abigail chuckled to herself, in a way that reminded Molly that beneath her academic seriousness was once a young person like herself.
Molly grinned. “And they agreed to fully acknowledge the course?”
Von nodded. “Yep. Full credits for the discussion work and the examination.”
Molly sat up a little. “This is great news!” she said, her face lighting up even more.
Von nodded, her smile showing she was rather pleased with her powers of persuasion. “The only thing that remains,” she added, changing her tone a little, “is how to recruit the students.”
Molly uncrossed her legs and poked at the holo in front of her, sharing her screen. “We almost have that covered as well. My team has worked up a campaign to use through the university Ethertrak. It’s designed to have maximum resonance with our key demographic.”
Von’s eyes scanned the material on the screen.
Molly continued. “What we need to do next is recruit ourselves a spokesperson. Someone who knows the material and understands the power that this insight has in negotiating peace. Someone who is also articulate and can relate to the students who will be taking the course.”
Von stopped reading, and looked off into the distance. “I can probably reach out to a number of people who would be keen to represent this program. Counselors, board members …”
Her voice disappeared into her throat as she realized that Molly was shaking her head. “No, no,” Molly chuckled lightly. “You misunderstand me. We’ve got a short list already.”
Von’s eyes widened, and she began to apologize.
Molly beamed at her again. “A very short shortlist,” she added.
Von looked intrigued.
Molly continued. “Professor Von, I was hoping that you might be agreeable to being our spokesperson.”
Abigail suddenly looked a little taken aback and flustered. “You mean... you want me to talk on recordings and... for the campaign?” she tried to clarify, a little flustered.
Molly nodded. “Yes. Exactly. You’re the person who is the most qualified.”
Von took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts. “I... I don’t know what to say,” she said, her face flushing beet red.
Molly sat back on the couch again. “Well,” she said, her voice giving the sense of being more serious now, “I was hoping you’d say ‘yes.’”
Von’s eyes were alive as she stared into the camera. “Yes! Yes, I would love to. Yes!” she exclaimed, her serious professor-like demeanor abandoned.
Molly smiled, feeling the older woman warm to her the more interaction they shared. “Well, good then,” she said, satisfied. “It’s just as well. My team has already started pulling together some scripts that might work. I’d hate to have to make them rewrite them for some stuffy board member.”
The two women chuckled as co-conspirators.
As their humor subsided, Von brought them back on point. “So how do we go about doing this then?”
Molly tilted her head, contemplating their next move. “I think what we need to do is start filming. What say you if I bring my team over to capture the footage? I’m sure they can get the scripts over to you in the next few days. And then perhaps we film after that?”
Von nodded enthusiastically. “Of course. That sounds wonderful. We have a semester break coming up next week so the campus will be quiet.”
Molly bobbed her head, considering whether they actually might want students in the reel at all, but then figured it was a detail they could resolve later if they decided that they did. “Great. That’ll work,” she agreed.
Von’s face changed suddenly, as she seemed to look around her university office before bringing her eyes back to her holo. “Tell me. I know you said you were well funded, but I’m curious where the funding is coming from to do all this?”
Molly took a deep breath. “Well, we have some private funds from parties interested in educating our leaders to make more informed decisions. And a number of industry leaders who have been adapting their working practices in line with some of the principles you’ve been advocating. They want to make sure that they can select their workforce from these informed leaders, too.”
She realized she was being vague. “You know, as we work together, I’ll be able to show you more and more. For now, just know that this is all above board, and being done for the right reasons. After all, there is no way this kind of strategy can benefit those who would have motive to exploit the population. And you know what a positive effect your strategies have on civilizations as a whole.”
Von seemed to take comfort in the reassurance. This Molly Bates was right. There is no way that anyone could be using these strategies for bad intent. It just wouldn’t be of any benefit to them. Von smiled. “Okay. I’m happy to proceed.”
Neechie had managed to find his way into the ops room as Molly had sat talking with Abigail, and just then jumped up on the invisible sofa.
“My ancestors!” exclaimed Abigail. “Is that …?”
Molly nodded, stroking his head as he nuzzled up to her thigh and then jumped into her lap. “A sphinx. Yeah. He’s our mascot around here.”
Von leaned forward, trying to see him better. “He’s a little cutie!” she remarked.
Neechie looked up at Molly as if to say, See, told you so. I am, aren’t I?
“Yes you are, Neech,” Molly agreed, pulling her hot mug out of the way so as not to burn him. “You are …” she repeated, stroking him with her free hand. Suddenly she felt a little light headed.
“Okay,” she said, looking back up at the screen. “I need to head out and get back to my people. We’ll get some scripts over to you in the next day or so, and if you’re happy to continue working on the syllabus, feel free to send it over when you’re ready for me to take a look.”
Von snapped back into business-mode. “No problem. I’ll do that.” She grinned and waved at the Sphinx. “Bye Neech!” she said. “Bye Molly,” she said, looking a little more grounded and waving to Molly.
The call disconnected, and Molly put her mug down immediately.
“What is it Neechie? Are you trying to show me something?” she asked, looking down at the Sphinx in her lap.
He meowed, and then Molly felt herself start to drift through realms. She saw images of places she had never seen before. An image of a series of planets in a weird array, balanced in a cluttered orbit.
She saw an entrance to a tomb, and some old markings that reminded her of the Zhyn characters, but ones that she didn’t recognize.
She felt like she was losing consciousness, and she put her feet on the floor, causing Neechie to jump off her lap and onto the console floor. She focused on her breathing, allowing the images to come and go, but putting her attention on the present, on the sensations in her body, keeping herself grounded in this reality.
She saw space. But a space cluttered with stars. She looked around trying to recognize a constellation. A feature. Something that would tell her where she was.
She recognized nothing.
Breathe, she told herself.
She was aware of Oz, and words coming from Oz. But she was too far into the realm visions to really understand.
Then she felt like she turned back over her shoulder, and looked behind her, and she was no longer in space, but in a bedroom, looking down into a drawer, near a bed.
Breathe. You’re safe, she told herself.
Then everything grayed out a little, and she became aware of the lights in the ops room through her eye lids. She felt herself hyperventilating as her awareness in the present world came back, and she kept breathing, feeling a little nauseous and out of sorts.
Molly? What’s happening?
Molly heard Oz’s words this time.
It’s okay, Oz. I’m back. I’m right here.
‘Nother realm jump?
Yep.
I’m blaming the Sphinx.
Molly breathed heavily through her nose in a half snort. The Sphinx sat looking at her, unimpressed, as if trying to assess her condition.
Me too. I think we should rename him Mercury - the messenger.
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Kitchen
Joel looked over at her, his eyes full of concern. “So, you really think it was a message?” he asked.
Molly shrugged, leaning back against the counter top. “I don’t know what else it could have been. I mean, unless I’m just seeing random scenes that are neither past, present, nor future.”
She moved over to one of the chairs and sat down at the kitchen table. “I just don’t know what to think anymore. I just know what I feel. And it felt like a message.”
Joel folded his arms, and shifted his weight to his other foot. “Shame there’s no way to get in touch with Arlene. This was precisely what she was meant to be helping you with.”
Molly cocked her head. “Hmm... but is there no way to get in touch with her? I mean, they headed off to ancestors know where... but we can call anywhere from that ops room. Distance is irrelevant. So, assuming they’re on a Federation ship they must be reachable.
At that moment Molly heard someone sitting down in the common area, and then the noise of a game playing on the holo. She looked towards the door.
Joel frowned as he watched her get pulled out to the common area by the noise.
He followed her, standing in the doorway.
Molly had stepped through to look at who was sitting on the sofa. “Sean?”
Sean looked up, surprised that anyone was around. “I was... I was just chilling out for ten minutes. I needed a break from cataloging the—”
Molly shook her head, dismissing his excuses for slacking on the job. “It’s okay. We were just talking about something, and I thought you might know about this. Giles and Arlene went off on some mission. Giles didn’t tell me where exactly, but I can take a guess. If he’s in a Federation ship, how would I get hold of him?”
Sean shrugged. “Ops room. Ask ADAM which ship, and then connect a call with that ship’s EI.”
Molly looked confused. “Okay. And do you know how it is these EIs can be in touch over such ridiculous distances?”
Sean nodded nonchalantly. “Sure.”
Molly waited, dropping her head, and raising her eyebrows pushing him to explain.
Sean sighed. “Tech-no-lo-gyyyyy, of course,” he said, patronizingly.
Molly rolled her eyes into the top of her head as she turned and headed back into the kitchen.
Joel’s smirk turned to full on laughter as he headed back in ahead of her. “That goon,” he chuckled.
Molly laughed away to herself, her chest bouncing as she tried to keep it inaudible. “I never know if he’s being earnest, or if he’s just fucking with us!” she admitted.
Joel shook his head and retrieved his mocha from the counter where he had left it a moment before. “Yeah, me neither. The guy is a mystery,” he added, still laughing quietly to himself.
Molly leaned against the fridge. “Okay. So I’ll give them a call and see if Arlene has any suggestions. And beyond that I think I should probably spend some more time with the little guy. See if I can get some practice.”
Joel’s face crumpled in confusion. “Little guy?” he asked, crossing his legs, and folding his hands in front of his crotch.
Molly had opened the fridge and was taking out the remains of one of her shakes. “Yeah. Neechie,” she responded, without looking up.
“Oh. Right. Of course,” Joel agreed quickly, relaxing instantly.
Molly closed the fridge door and turned to leave. She spun back to look at him. “What did you think I meant?” she asked.
Joel blushed and shook his head. “I... had no idea,” he lied, picking up his mocha and hiding behind a slurp. A slurp that was way too much, and way too hot.
He swallowed, ignoring the pain, as Molly bobbed her head once, and drifted out of the kitchen, oblivious.
Chapter 4
Administration House, Staðall University, Spire
Dean Alfred Radcliff sat comfortably in his chair reading on his holo. There was a timid knock on the door.
“Enter,” he said brusquely, swiping away the screen and sitting up a little.
His assistant poked her head into the office. “Dean Radcliff, there is a gentleman here to see you. He says you have an appointment, but I don’t see anything on your schedule.”
Radcliff sat up properly and flicked through to his schedule. He was blocked out until his meeting with the heads of the Science Department at four. He looked up, frowning. “Nothing on my schedule. Who is he?”
His assistant looked awkward, stepping gently into the room, intending to close the door so she couldn’t be heard. Before the door was closed it was pushed open again, and there stood a rather tall Ogg, in a smart-looking atmosuit, not altogether unlike one that Radcliff owned for meeting and greeting visits he often needed to do.
“Greetings of the day to you, Dean Radcliff. Allow me to introduce myself.” The Ogg spoke with a refined accent. A lilt of his native Ogg-tongue but with the precision of excellent schooling in Estarian ways.
The Dean, too curious to insist he schedule an appointment, beckoned him into the room, and indicated at the chair in front of his desk. “That will be all, Amy,” he told his assistant.
The Dean sat down again as the Ogg made his way into his office and sat down.
The Ogg continued his introduction. “My name is Raj Ghettie, of the Northern Clan of Cambodrian. My family has extensive ties and business here on Estaria, as well as an interest in supporting the education system.”
The Dean had worked with many enterprises and representatives with big trust funds and contributions that needed to be allocated for philanthropic causes. His face brightened at the thought of where this might be heading.
The Ogg continued. “We have a heavy interest in maintaining what we call ‘vallitseva tila.’ The balance in all things.” He paused, studying the Dean’s reaction carefully, as if his next word were dependent on how he responded.
The Dean leaned his arms on his desk, nodding with interest.
Raj Ghettie took it as a cue to continue. “We feel that the education sector is a huge part of this process. So much so, we would like to pledge some financial aid in exchange for lending some direction to some of the material taught.”
The Dean smiled, satisfied that his first reaction had been entirely accurate. “Of course. This is something I’m sure the board would be open to. However, I must ask — what kind of influence are you expecting?”
“Oh, nothing too drastic,” Raj explained with a dismissive wave of his hand. “We’re mostly impressed with the breadth of study available. But we’d be keen to ensure that the university remains... traditional. None of these newfangled courses like Media Studies, or Reinterpretive History, or Journalistic Methodologies.” He chuckled at the thought of the subjects.
Radcliff nodded sympathetically, his fake smile playing across his face. “Yes, I concur with that sentiment entirely. These people will argue anything to give a degree away these days.”
“Quite,” Ghettie agreed. He paused for a moment before continuing. “I assume you’ll want to do your due diligence before you accept our contribution. But I think in essence we can work to move this forward fairly quickly.”
Ghettie stood up to leave. Radcliff stood too, and walked around his desk to see him out politely. He stopped, thinking of something new. “Mr. Ghettie. I’m grateful for your interest, and I look forward to accepting your generosity. But I wonder …?”
Ghettie finished his sentence with a knowing look in his eye. “Why now?”
Radcliff bowed his head a little. “Indeed.”
Ghettie’s confidence suggested he’d anticipated the question. “We live in uncertain times. Times where we all have a responsibility to ensure our crafting of the future. I myself have suffered a health challenge, and swore that when I was able enough again I would do everything in my power to make that change in the world that I would like to see before I die.”
He placed his hand on Radcliff’s shoulder as if he were a longtime friend. “I know that for those of us in the game of educating young minds we are very in touch with this concept. And our own impending mortality.
Radcliff nodded, sympathetic to the gentleman’s health problems. “Yes. Yes, of course,” he muttered. “One has to ask, though.”
Ghettie removed his hand from Radcliff’s shoulder and turned to leave. “Yes. One must,” he agreed. “I’ll have my people send you over some material to consider. We should talk again in the next week or so.”
And then he strode out of the office, leaving the door open.
Radcliff could see Amy sitting in her desk, watching a little awe-struck by the stranger who was able to walk into the university and speak with her boss without an appointment or a good reason.
Her eyes remained on the door out of her office.
“Amy,” Radcliff called through from his office.
Amy’s attention snapped back to him. “Yes sir?”
Radcliff’s voice was enthusiastic and motivated. “Have the board meeting scheduled for the end of the month brought forward to next week. There are some pressing matters for us to consider.”
Amy had already started pulling up the details to alert the board members and their assistants.
He ambled over and closed his door, and her attention was pulled from her screens as she heard it clunk shut.
Curiouser and curiouser, she thought to herself, returning her eyes to her task.
Gaitune-67, Base conference room
“Okay, how did we get on?” Molly asked looking over at Joel.
Joel straightened up and then stood up, regarding the assembled team in the base conference room. “Looks like we have a plan,” he reported, pulling up a screen on his holo.
Each team member looked a little more on edge than usual. No one had been told who would be going undercover, and apart from Pieter, everyone else was at least part excited by the possibility. Pieter sat looking morose, like a kid who didn’t want to play this game.
Brock noticed. “Hey, cheer up buddy. May never happen!” he said, slapping Pieter’s arm, and only then realizing how what he had just said was totally not true.
Pieter glared up at him. “Fifty-fifty chance I have to do the whole undercover thing. I tried to tell Joel it just wasn’t my bag.”
Brock lowered his voice and leaned in. “And what happened?” he asked, concerned.
Pieter shrugged anxiously. “I never got past rehearsing what I would say in front of the bathroom mirror.”
Brock giggled. “You loon. You should know you can just talk to Joel. I did, back when there was ops stuff I didn’t want to do.”
Pieter turned his head so they wouldn’t be overheard. “And what happened?” he asked softly.
Brock shrugged with his easy relaxed way. “He took me out of it until I got enough training to feel good about it.”
Pieter considered it for a moment. “I also didn’t want to let the team down. I mean, surely no one else wants to do it either.”
Brock pointed around the table, sweeping his finger, and encouraging Pieter to look. “See all these folks here?” he asked.
Pieter mumbled to the affirmative.
Brock posed his follow up question. “Notice the air of excitement in the room?”
Pieter nodded.
Brock grinned down at him. “Every single one of them is excited by the prospect. There’s no shortage of people who want to volunteer. If you’re not ready, you’re not ready. You shouldn’t feel like it is any reflection on you, or on your commitment to the team.”
Pieter nodded again, his shoulders relaxing a little. “Thanks, man,” he said quietly, nudging Brock on the arm.
The two sat up straighter and started paying attention to the meeting that was getting going.
Joel pulled up a screen with a bunch of names.
“Okay,” he told them. “Oz has gone in and created back stories for each of the folks who have been selected for this mission.”
He glanced at the screen and then his notes. “What you see on screen is the ship’s manifest. This is the crew that is down to take the ship from Estaria to Teshov. Those who have been selected for the undercover part of the mission are: Sean…”
Sean fist pumped the air near his body, in silent jubilation.
Joel continued to read off his list. “Brock, Maya and Jack.”
Maya grinned.
Jack nodded politely, only her eyes betraying her secret lust for a good undercover mission.
Brock’s eyes widened as he wobbled his head from side to side in a silly gesture of excitement. At the same time his mouth was chewed up in pretend anxiety — probably covering his actual mixture of anxiety and excitement.
Pieter’s relief was palpable. He slumped in his chair as if he’d just escaped being abducted by little gray aliens.
Joel allowed a second or two for the muttering and excitement to subside, and then continued. “Learn your back story and make sure you collect your ID cards and make them look like they’ve been used. Carry them around with you. Get used to answering to your cover ID name. I and others will be testing you.”
Maya was still grinning, her fists clenched in thrill under the table so that she didn’t undo the somewhat professional air she had been cultivating of late. Paige noticed though, but said nothing. Her expression was a little more serious.
Joel was still talking. “If one of you gets caught, the strategy is to remain undiscovered for as long as possible, unless you need to prevent real harm from coming to your team mate. Once the ship docks, we will be there to meet you, and as long as we have the intel we need, we will have Federation arrests made.”
He scanned around the room. “This means we need to keep the ruse going for the duration of the journey. Which is several weeks.” His face was deadly serious. “This could be the most difficult task you’ve ever undertaken.”
“For those not undercover, your role is support any which way you can. Paige and Pieter, you will be responsible for monitoring all communications and feeding them intel or back story prompts as they need. You’ll also be looking at any clues they gather and running checks to build up our picture of this organization, to make sure we get what we need. Once we have it, you need to alert me so that we can make necessary arrangements with the Federation to come and step in when we dock.”
Paige nodded, and Pieter even sat up a little to acknowledge his role.
Joel glanced around the room, engaging with each team member. “Molly and I will be reviewing everything as it comes through, making necessary adjustments.”
“Crash,” he said, turning to their pilot, “we need you to work on any contingency plans in case one or all of the operatives are discovered. We need a way of pulling them out, without endangering the rest of the team, or the kidnapped scientists.”
Crash lowered his head for a moment, and then raised his hand to get Joel’s attention.
“Yes, Crash,” Joel acknowledged, lifting his eyes from his holo and his next item.
Crash shuffled his butt cheeks forward in the chair. “Joel, if one or more of our team is discovered, is it under our remit to extract the hostages too?”
Joel glanced at Molly before answering. “We should run through a list of the scenarios. It depends on how much they know about us. Innocent life is, as always, at the top of our priority list to preserve.”
Molly nodded her head silently, her eyes on the desk in front of her. Crash sat back, satisfied he was going to receive more input before he needed to hatch his hair-brained master plans of transportation badassery.
Joel began to wrap the meeting up. “We have twelve days before the ship leaves. Those undercover need to arrive there a day before departure for vaccinations and medical evals. There’s also a bunch of admin that needs to be done before a trip like this, so read the packs the company sent to your server addresses that Oz has marked. Any questions, let me know.”
He glanced around. “All good?”
Everyone nodded.
“Okay folks. Let’s move out,” he announced, dismissing the team in his usual manner.
Gaitune-67, Common area
“Who did you get?” Brock asked Maya.
Maya was studying the back story to her new identity on her holo. “I’m called Marissa d’Senigle,” she announced proudly. “How about you?”
Brock tilted his head, trying to read the name on the ID card. “I’m Mr. Tallus Copernican,” he said slowly, mouthing out the sounds.
Maya smiled congenially. “Well, I’m very pleased to meet you, Tallus,” she said, bowing with a flourish of her hand.
Paige watched from the sofa. “Honestly. You make it sound like it’s just a game!” she snapped.
Maya spun round. “No, we’re not. We’re just having some fun,” she explained.
Paige huffed, and went back to her holo. “It says here that you studied economics before dropping out. I mean, what if someone asks you about the economic situation in the inner system?”
Maya sat down next to her friend and linked her arm, resting her hand on the top of Paige’s forearm. “Well then, I’ll tell them there was a reason I dropped out,” she said gently, but smartly. She paused, then spoke with a little more gratitude. “I understand you’re worried. But it’s all going to be okay. I promise.”
Paige looked up at Maya, the anger melting from her eyes. “I hope so,” she agreed, not entirely convinced.
“Besides,” Maya continued, “this is not much different from what I would do nearly every day when I was working on a case. And then I didn’t have any back up. Just an editor who would come and bail me out if I got arrested or something.”
Paige looked horrified. “You know, I never know when you’re joking or serious when you say shit like that.”
Maya grinned, and winked, moving the conversation back to Brock. “So... Tallus,” she said emphasizing the use of his new name. “Where you from?”
Sean wandered into the common area, looking perplexed. Brock turned as he approached, his city of origin as Tallus forgotten. “You okay?” he asked the uncharacteristically emotional Sean.
Sean scratched his head. “Yeah. Looks like I’ve been placed on the highest risk role.”
Brock frowned. “Thought you’d be pleased about that?”
Sean nodded slightly, flipping his ID over. “Yeah. I would normally. But this looks like …” His voice cracked a little. “It looks like it’s a desk job.”
He practically gulped as soon as the words left his throat. He looked up bewildered, only half seeing Paige and Maya in front of him.
Maya giggled. “Dude, it looks like you’ve just been handed a pile of turds. What’s the problem?” She watched him, unable to contain her mirth at his expression.
Sean looked tired and stressed. “A desk job,” he repeated, this time more emphatically.
Paige started chuckling. And then Brock joined in. Sean glanced over at him, horrified.
Brock patted him on the back. “Welcome to the world of 9-to-5!” he chuckled. “It’s okay. We’re here for you. You will get through this,” he said in his best therapist’s voice, pretending to counsel him through the traumatic realization of what was to come.
Sean shuffled over to the arm chair and allowed his knees to collapse him onto it. His eyes scanned and rescanned the ID card. “How could they do this to me?” he muttered in disbelief under his breath.
He became vaguely aware that Maya had leaned forward and was doubled over laughing her head off. Paige put her hand on her back, as if trying to soothe her bouts of hysteria.
Brock sat on the mocha table in front of Sean. “Bump me your back story,” he suggested, holding out his holo. Sean pulled up the document, and then bumped holos with Brock.
Brock got up and ambled over to the arm chair on the other side of the holoviewing area, reading as he went.
He sat down. “Says here your name is Rex. Sounds kinda badass to me,” he said encouragingly. “In fact, Rex sounds kinda tough. You might get a chance to show this posse who da boss is... desk jockeys or no.”
Paige rolled her eyes. “You make him sound like such a meathead!” she exclaimed.
Sean looked up, his eyes still half glazed and wider than they normally would be. “But I AM a meathead. If I’d wanted a desk job, I’d be somewhere like the Meredith Reynolds, or the ArchAngel, organizing battles and maintaining the Empress’s forces.” His eyes lost focus again and his attention dropped back to his holoscreen.
Brock cocked his head empathetically. “Well, it sounds like you’re the best person to do this. If they said this was high risk, it’s likely you’re the only one who has enough operational experience to deal with whatever is going down in that area of the ship. Plus, if any of us get found out, we need you in a position to come rescue our asses!”
Sean bobbed his head, warming to the idea.
Maya pulled herself together after her fit of laughter and managed to feign some sympathy. “Yeah. And I suspect that there will still be an opportunity for you to do meathead stuff. The ship must have a gym. And other meathead operatives for the heavy lifting and stuff. I’m sure you’ll find your groove.”
Sean glanced over and nodded appreciatively. “Maybe I’ll tell them my nick name is ‘Meathead’... just so they don’t get the wrong idea.”
Paige shook her head, sniggering to herself. “I think we might be missing the point of going under cover!” she said gently.
Sean didn’t hear her, his spirits lifting a little. “Yeah. I’m going to call myself Meathead for this one,” he declared a little more decisively. He stood up, pulling himself to his full height. “I think I’m gonna enjoy this gig,” he said. Then he turned and walked out, with his usual Sean-cyborg-Royale swagger.
Maya started giggling again. “Meathead!” she said, shaking her head.
Brock started vibrating with silent laughter too. “Wait till he realizes that his role is the Head of Administrative Services, as a representative for an external auditing company!”
“Oh shit,” Paige snickered. “Let’s not break that to him just yet. Let him get used to the desk job thing for a day or two.”
Brock put on his I’m-not-taking-the-blame-for-anything-that-happens look. “Well, it’s right here in black and white on his briefing doc.”
“I wonder how long it’s going to take Meathead to read it,” Paige chuckled.
Chapter 5
Gaitune-67, Base Ops Room
The call connected on the console holo and two smiling faces came into view.
Molly sat up a little on her invisible chair, shifting enough to encourage Neechie to jump down from her lap. “Greetings, gentlefolk,” she called out, as if her voice needed to travel further because she knew they were connecting from a long way away.
“Greetings, Molly,” Arlene called back, warmly. Giles made some greeting like “Hi, how are you,” but his voice was a little fainter on account of him being a little further from the holo.
Molly felt happiness lift inside of her as she looked on the two old friends over the connection. “I’m good. How are you both?”
Arlene responded for the two of them. “We’re doing okay,” she told her. “Giles obviously is grumpy about the tedious workload, but we’re doing well. Making progress,” she summarized.
Giles protested. “We’re working through the moons one at a time. And there are eleven of them! Arlene’s calculations sucked ass.”
Arlene grinned and tilted her head at him. “See?”
Molly smiled. “So you’re in the Orn system?” she asked.
Arlene pulled her console chair a little closer, pushing Giles out a little. “Yes. I must say, the moons are rocky and deserted for the most part. But when you look out at the system, in almost any direction, it isn’t half beautiful.”
Giles interjected. “It is, but what is more fascinating is how eleven of these moons ended up in such an intricate orbit so close together. And so similar in size. There’s no physical way it could have occurred naturally. It just doesn’t make sense. Unless …”
Arlene frowned. “Unless you buy into the conspiracy theory!”
Giles huffed. “It’s not a conspiracy theory. It’s just physics. Occam's razor, etc., etc.”
Arlene shook her head at him and smiled back at Molly. “See what I have to put up with?” she joked playfully.
Giles pretended to be offended and folded his arms. “Well, I shall just be quiet then, shall I?”
Oh my ancestors, they’re like an old married couple.
You noticed that?
It’s hard not to!
It’s humorous.
It’s sweet. As long as they don’t end up killing each other.
That is a consideration.
“So,” Arlene said, changing the subject. “You had information for us?”
Molly shifted in her seat a little. “Well. Kinda. It’s like …” she took a deep breath before continuing again. “I had a realm shift, and I saw some things. I had no one else who might know what it meant, so I thought I’d reach out to you. In case you can help.”
Arlene was listening intently. Giles had sat back a little but was still paying close attention, too.
Arlene leaned on the console in front of her, and had her hand by her chin. She waved it a little. “Go on,” she said, encouraging Molly to share.
Molly took another deep breath. “Well. I’d just finished a call and Neechie was hanging around, which is why I knew at first that it was a realm jump. So the usual started happening. Feeling ungrounded and so on. And then I saw an image, as clearly as I see you in the hologram before me. It was a series of planets in a weird array, all in this cluttered orbit.”
Arlene started poking at her console, her attention no longer on Molly. Then a second holoscreen appeared, with the exact same image Molly had been describing.
“Something like this?” she asked.
Molly’s mouth dropped open. “How did you do that? Was Oz able to pull an image?”
Arlene chuckled lightly. “No, no, no. This is where we are. This is the Orn system we were just telling you about.”
Molly’s mouth dropped open. “But that’s exactly what it looked like.”
Arlene bobbed her head. “Well, good,” she confirmed, matter-of-factly, unmoved by the fact that Molly’s visions actually meant something.
“So what does this mean?” Molly asked.
Arlene looked back at the camera. “Well, for one, it suggests that your realm jumping is getting more precise and useful. I wouldn’t be surprised if Neechie was helping you access aspects of your higher self that knows everything from past, present and future.”
Molly allowed the new paradigms to float into her consciousness, cognizant that Oz could always give her a replay later.
Arlene continued. “As for what the scene means specifically, what else can you tell us?”
Molly closed her eyes, trying to recall the incident again. There was a pause on the line while she summoned the sequence in her mind’s eye.
“I saw some kind of doorway. In stone. Like an entrance to a tomb. Or a temple.”
She imagined herself there, recalling the details. “There was a smell of how the air goes when it’s hot outside, but cold inside the stone walls. And there were markings. Like the Zhyn characters. But not. Maybe a different language. Or older. And they were worn away a bit, making it hard to make them out for sure.”
She moved her head as if looking up and around, her eyes still closed, her mind lost in her memory. “The constellations were strange, but that would make sense if it were in the Orn system, an area of space I’m not familiar with.”
Arlene whispered to Giles. “So it’s a tomb, above the ground.”
Giles nodded, his eyes not leaving the holo of Molly.
Molly could hear Arlene’s voice again. “Anything else in the sky?” Arlene asked.
Molly shook her head again. “No, just a beam of light falling on it. Lighting up the glyphs.”
Arlene’s voice seemed a little more excited. “Can you see where the light is coming from?”
Molly shook her head. “No. But then I was somewhere else.” She paused a moment, as if reliving the experience. “I turned, and looked down, and I was in a bedroom… looking at a drawer next to a bed. A bedside cabinet.”
“Whose bedroom is it?” Arlene coaxed her into revealing more information.
Molly shook her head, a strand of her blonde hair dropping in front of her face. “I’m not sure. I feel like it’s a girl. But a little girl who is quite... precocious. She feels as if she’s beyond her years, or something. She’s... strange.”
Arlene’s voice reached out to her. “What else can you see in the bedroom?”
Molly’s brow creased up, as if she were trying to see closer. “There were red curtains over by the window. And outside... a building like the Capital Building in Spire. The room was sparse. Like a religious dorm or something. There were some Estarian beads on the wall.”
She paused, her head looking downwards now. “But on the bedside table, there are tablets. That aren’t being taken.”
Arlene’s voice penetrated her consciousness. “How do you know they’re not being taken?” she asked.
Molly answered simply. “I just know.”
Molly was silent. Giles and Arlene waited, watching. Wondering if there was any more information to come.
Molly suddenly opened her eyes. “That’s it,” she told them. “That’s all I saw.”
Arlene had been taking notes on her holo. She flicked up and down the screen, making sure she had everything she needed.
Molly watched the holo screen waiting for Arlene’s opinion. “So, what do you think?” Molly pressed, a twinge of anxiety in the corners of her eyes.
Arlene pursed her lips, and then closed her holo. “I think,” she told her, “that you’ve been seeing things that may help us narrow our search down.”
Molly’s face brightened. “Well, that’s great then!” she said. Her face dropped a moment later. “But why?” she asked.
Arlene took a deep breath, and then glanced over at Giles, who was cleaning his fake glasses.
Realizing he was now being invited into the conversation, he sat up a little and pulled the chair forward. “I believe that as you’re becoming more proficient in your realm jumping, you’re able to access more and more intelligence out of time.”
Molly frowned. “Out of time?” she asked.
Giles nodded, placing his glasses back on his face. “Yeah. So as humans... or any organics I know of... we experience time in sequence. Like frames of a movie.”
Molly nodded her understanding and Giles continued. “Thing is, all these frames exist at once. Plus, there’s an infinite number of possibilities, which all have their own track of frames.”
“Okay …” Molly agreed, slowly. She’d read her fair share of theoretical physics. The only problem she’d had with it was that it was purely theoretical.
Giles continued his point. “So imagine all of these frames, and then not necessarily being tied to them. So you’re able to look at all of them out on a table in front of you.”
Molly bobbed her head. “Yeah, okay. I get that.”
Giles decided not to belabor the point. “Right. So. When you’re realm jumping, you’re basically accessing these other frames, from that altered perspective. What I’ve been calling ‘out of time’, or more precisely, ‘outside of time.’”
“Hmmm,” Molly mulled the idea for a moment. “That sounds... plausible. And it certainly explains all the different things I’ve been experiencing with the jumping and drifting.”
Giles smiled, and then leaned over to speak quietly to Arlene, well aware that Molly could still hear him. “It’s unnerving how quickly she accepts these things.”
Arlene nodded with a detached smile on her face. “I know. It freaked me out a little when I first met her. I still haven’t figured out if it’s personality or just rapid processing of new paradigms.”
Molly eyed them playfully. “Erm, hello? Still here,” she called waving. “Even I know it’s rude to talk about someone in the third person as if they’re not there.”
Arlene smirked a little. “My dear, we thought you were beyond such social conventions.”
Molly relaxed in her seat. “Well. Yeah. That’s true. I only mentioned it coz I thought it would be funny,” she confessed blankly.
Arlene and Giles burst out laughing.
Molly looked at them, completely puzzled and missing the unintentional joke. “I don’t understand,” she said, as their laughter subsided.
Giles wiped an eye from behind his glasses. “It’s funny because you tried to make fun of yourself and we didn’t get it, and then you explained it , which was hilarious. And then it was a double whammy when you didn’t understand why we found it funny in the end.”
Molly’s expression was still deadpan. “I think my head is about to explode.”
Well, you wanted to try your hand at organic-peoples’ humor!
True. I wish I hadn’t now.
“Okay,” Molly said brightly, “this has been useful and enlightening. What’s next?”
The conversation continued for a few minutes longer, and eventually they said their farewells.
Giles clicked off the call, and sat back thinking.
Arlene glanced over at him. “You didn’t want to talk to her privately then?”
Giles frowned. “Whatever for?”
Arlene rolled her eyes and moved her console chair back across the cockpit to her usual spot. “No reason,” she said, a hint of humor in her voice.
Giles couldn’t tell if Arlene was having a dig, or genuinely encouraging his interests in Molly. Plus, she had her back to him as she made the comment, making reading her expression even more difficult. He suspected she had done that deliberately, on account of the many papers they’d written in the early days about facial cues for evaluating truth and credibility.
Either way, trying to form any kind of relationship with Molly from god knows how many light years away, and while in close proximity to his very long-ended ex, was not his idea of a smart move.
He got up, stretched his legs, and ambled back into the make-shift living area of the Scamp Princess.
Gaitune-67, Kitchen
“So where’s Paige tonight?” Brock asked.
Pieter stuffed some fries into his mouth and then realized he couldn’t answer. He chewed deliberately, bobbing his head and pointing at his mouth, then swallowed hard. “She’s with Carl. Again.”
Brock’s face animated. “Wow, that girl must be getting some!” he sang in his lilty, playful way.
Maya placed her burger back in the open take-out box. “Hey, some decorum, Brock!” she chided.
Brock did his pretend serious face. “Ooops. Sorry,” he said, a little sheepishly. “Looks like the sex police are out in force!” he added cheekily.
Maya rolled her eyes at him before adding more ketchup to her fries and continued eating.
Brock suddenly realized something. “Anyway, aren’t you meant to be calling me Tallus now?”
Maya slapped her hand over her mouth. She said “shit” but it came out muffled between the mouthful of greasy fried potato and her hand smothering her face.
Sean had been chowing down quietly. He looked up, as if watching a soap opera. Shaking his head gently he uttered a single word.
“Amateurs.”
Brock and Maya looked straight at him in annoyance and protest.
Pieter shoved another fry into his mouth. “He has a point. If you can’t even remember for ten minutes when you’re at home, how are you going to do it 24/7 when you’re under pressure in a new environment?”
“Because,” Maya explained, “we’ll be in a new environment.”
Pieter shook his head, looking to Sean for backup. “My money is on one of you two needing your asses rescued first,” he said, waving his finger in Maya’s and then Brock’s direction. “Within the first week,” he added, confidently.
Maya considered throwing a fry at him but then changed her mind, choosing to instead play it cool. “Okay, betting boy. What you want to wager?”
Pieter suddenly looked caught off-guard. “Well, er... I…”
Maya waved her hand. “It’s okay. Doesn’t have to be money. We can just do something like... I dunno. Maybe you do my laundry for a month if you’re wrong.”
Pieter looked up at the ceiling, analyzing his options. “Okay. And if I win, you have to be my general house slave for a day.”
Maya didn’t hesitate. She stuck her hand across the table to Pieter to shake on the deal.
Brock interjected energetically. “Woah woah woah, girl. You don’t wanna be doing that. You have no idea what nasty business he’ll have you doing. Have you seen the state of his sleeping quarters?”
Maya chuckled. “It’ll be fine, I’m sure. Geek-boy will probably just be having me organizing his hard drives or trying to get him free access to certain sites on Estaria.”
Pieter looked shocked. And embarrassed. He said nothing, but shook her hand.
Brock tilted his head, his eyes giving her the don’t-blame-me-when-this-ends-in-tears kind of look one’s mother would traditionally give. “Well, Marissa d’Senigle, you’re just going to have to not get captured on this mission,” he told her decisively.
Just then, Jack walked in. “Ah great, grubs up!” she exclaimed, enthused.
Maya pushed her box of food across to her. “They didn’t have onion rings so they gave you extra fries,” she explained.
Jack’s face lit up. “Nom,” she commented, grabbing a fork from a drawer before sitting down. “Thanks, Marissa,” she said as naturally as if it had been Maya’s actual name.
“You’re welcome, Griselle,” Maya responded, a little less naturally.
Sean had been watching, and shook his head at Maya’s renewed attempt at adopting the new names. He took another bite of his monster burger and chewed quietly.
On board the Flutningsaðili, Uptarlung Space Port, Pike’s office
Max Pike lounged in his console chair. His second-in-command, Pascal Randalf, ran through their list of operational items in preparation for the new crew showing up in a few days’ time.
“Level four still off limits?” Randalf queried, a furrow playing across his forehead.
Pike nodded. “Yeah. Why?”
Randalf looked up from his holo. “Some of the new security detail were asking. Complaining they couldn’t get through the doors to check the place.”
Pike rocked idly in his chair. “Yeah, that’s by design.”
“So,” Randalf tried guessing, “you just don’t want anyone in there?”
“That’s right,” Max replied, looking off into the distance as if contemplating something entirely different.
“Why not?” Pascal pressed.
There was a pause in the conversation as Max came back to the room, and considered a response with mild annoyance.
“Because,” he explained, “we are paid to keep secrets. And in that area there are secrets that I can’t control if every Tom, Dick and Ralph have access to the area.”
Randalf nodded, but kept his nerve. “Okay. I understand that, but …”
Max had stopped rocking and was now looking at the middle-aged Estarian administrator. “But?” he echoed.
Randalf’s hand hovered over his holo as if waiting to check an item off. “Is there anything that I should be aware of in there? Like is it dangerous? Or something I need to tend to?”
Pike took a deep breath, contemplating.
“In case anything was to happen to you, I mean,” Pascal added, his face even more contorted in concern now.
Max frowned, sitting up in his chair slightly. His eyes suddenly had a glint of suspicion in them. “Why are you asking all these questions all of a sudden?” he queried accusingly.
Pascal looked down and shuffled his feet a little. “Erm... I heard reports that you had, erm, brought a girl on board.”
Max looked ready to explode. “Who told you that?”
Pascal put his hands out trying to calm his boss. “It’s okay. I handled it. The person who mentioned it has been, er... called away. I assumed it was confidential.” He paused for a moment. “I didn’t think we were into that kind of thing, though.” His eyes darted around a little, unsure of where to rest his gaze on this awkward subject.
Max stood up, a little calmer, and wandered over to the game ball on his shelf. He picked it up and toyed with it in his hands. “We’re not,” he reassured him firmly. “And it’s not what you think. I’m doing someone a favor. The girl has value to them for what she knows. It’s more a transfer of skills.”
He twizzled the ball in his hands. “At least, that’s as much as I’ve been told.” He glanced back at his longtime friend and colleague. “You know how these people are,” he explained, his tone softer. “So you just don’t ask questions.”
He headed over to his desk and sat down, hugging the ball to his body under his clasped hands, his elbows tucked in. “Besides, it’s no different from the other two we’re going to be transporting.”
Pascal pinched his eyes with his fingers, his head down, no longer looking at the holo. “Yeah. And that’s another thing we didn’t get into this for.”
Max shrugged. “Secrets are secrets, and precious cargo... sometimes has a pulse.”
Pascal wiped his hands over his face, looking up and leaning forward in the low chair, his arms resting on his knees. “Well... right,” he sighed in resignation. “I guess this is what we’re stuck with.”
Max twizzled the ball in his hands. “You’re not happy?”
Pascal stood up and glanced over at him. “You’re damn right I’m not happy.” He paused, controlling his tone. “But I’ll get the job done,” he added.
He closed his holo and then got up and stalked out of the office, leaving Max with his thoughts.
Chapter 6
Uptarlung District, Estaria
Three pods hovered 800 feet in the air just on the outskirts of Uptarlung, before descending down to the surface near a tube station. The sky was grey and cold, and there was a dampness in the atmosphere that was uncharacteristic of the northern hemisphere of the planet.
Molly pressed her face against the side window of the pod she shared with Paige. “Looks like we’re here,” she remarked.
Paige didn’t answer. She had a heaviness in the pit of her stomach. “What if they get caught?” she mumbled anxiously, as Molly reached for the button to release the front of the pod.
Molly stopped and sat back in her seat. “Then we’ll swoop in and rescue their asses,” she told her confidently. “Like we always do.” Her voice softened. “They’ll be fine,” she added.
Paige smiled, unconvinced. But with nowhere else for the conversation to go, she allowed Molly to exit the pod.
Molly stepped out, greeted by the cold and damp. The area where they had landed seemed to have become surrounded in moisture.
I think this is what meteorologists call fog.
I believe so.
It’s... ugh.
Molly shuddered and folded her arms against her, her atmosuit already gathering water droplets.
I concur.
Molly watched as her team stepped out of the other pods, noting their reactions as they were each met with the foggy realism of their destination.
“What’s with this weather?” Maya asked, hugging her arms around her and shifting the weight of her pack on her back.
Jack retrieved her luggage from the storage compartment of the pod and hauled it onto her back. “I know,” she commiserated. “Last time it was like this I think I was probably still in school.”
Sean plonked his pack in front of him, and rubbed his hands together briskly. He grinned. “Perfect weather to start an operation!” he declared with a strange glee.
Maya chuckled at his enthusiasm. She wondered how long it would last once he realized he was head auditor for the ship’s cargo.
“Okay,” Molly said, gathering them around. “This is it. You’re each going to head into town from here, so there is no chance you are seen together. Take different trains and different carriages. Don’t be too keen to introduce yourself to each other, or the others. Remember, you want to give the appearance of just wanting to keep to yourself and get the job done.”
Maya and Brock nodded. Sean had his arms folded and was listening to their instructions carefully. Jack did the same.
Molly looked at each of them. “Stay in touch. Remember to do your quantum bead check-ins. Just a click is all we need to know that you’re okay. Paige and Pieter are monitoring you 24/7, so if you need anything, let us know. Stay safe, and good hunting.”
Each member of the team said their thanks and goodbyes before hugging both Paige and Molly, and then made their way over to the subway station. Each were careful to start behaving like individuals rather than a group.
Molly watched them leave. She realized that she was holding her breath. Taking a deep breath, she tried to release the tension she had been holding.
Paige’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Admit it,” she pressed. “You’re worried too.” Paige watched her teammates disappear into the foggy version of suburban civilization.
Molly nodded. “I’m always worried about them. But they are the most capable and adaptable people I know, and I have faith in them.”
Paige didn’t respond. She just watched until they had all been swallowed by the fog, and then followed Molly back into their pod.
Brock had remained behind at the train station for another half an hour, so that they could stagger their arrivals. The mist was clinging to his skin, making him long for a nice hot shower, something that would soothe the travel tension he was already starting to feel.
Space travel and terrestrial travel are two very different things, he mused. And honestly, when you take into account the standing about and the weather, space travel was the better option any day of the week.
He paced up and down the platform trying to pass the time. If he kept moving, at least he was burning calories, so it wasn’t a complete waste, he reasoned.
His mind flicked through to the last time he waited on a tube platform, on his way to and from school. It felt like a century ago. It was certainly another life ago. He sighed, remembering how his mother had come to meet him on his first few days of school. And then how as time went on she would barely remember she had a son. The alcohol tended to do that to a person.
He felt a heaviness in his heart. He had loved his mom. And yet, there was so much to still be angry about.
Good job I got out when I did, he consoled himself, rummaging in his pack for another layer to put on against the cold.
* * *
Maya sat on the tube, watching the insides of the tunnel, punctuated by total blackness, whiz past the tube window. For the first time in a long while she felt lonely. Sure, there were days in the safehouse when Paige had been at Carl’s recently, and she had barely spoken to anyone the whole day. But this was different. This was a feeling of dread deep in the pit of her stomach.
Maybe Paige’s instincts had been right, she thought. Maybe this wasn’t something she was prepared for. And what if this was the mission she didn’t survive?
There was a loud bang off at the end of the car. She snapped her attention round, ready to react.
It was another passenger struggling with his luggage that had fallen forward from the rack. She sat back around, and tried to calm herself.
No need to be so jumpy, she told herself. Remember, you’re meant to be a civilian. Start thinking and acting like one.
She rested her head against the train wall, hoping to be able to relax. The vibration ran through her skull and as the carriage rocked the spot where she made contact kept moving. Uncomfortable and frustrated, she sat up again, resigning herself to the bolt upright position of the seats.
I wonder how the others are doing, she wondered idly.
Staðall University, Spire, Lecture Theater 21
Paige adjusted the holocamera settings and then realigned the floating autocue. “Okay, we’re set. Wanna try again?”
Abigail Von took a deep breath and looked into the camera and smiled. “Have you ever wondered what the world would be like if we had leaders who were adept in negotiation and conflict resolution? Can you imagine a world where we are on the brink of eliminating war? What about a future where every person is fed, and cared for, and able to contribute in a meaningful way? Sounds like a fairy tale, doesn’t it?”
Von started to move along the path Paige had chalked out across the front of the lecture theater floor.
Von continued to read off the script. “But what if it isn’t? I can’t tell you how many students who have attended my classes on interplanetary trade negotiations have asked me to teach them what would make the difference. Not just in trade. But in everything. And until now, it’s always been a skill and subset of study that never quite made it into an official course.”
Abigail had moved forward again as they had choreographed. The autocue continued to roll.
“My name is Abigail Von,” she continued, “and I’m a professor of Interplanetary Relations, as well as the lecturer for Staðall University’s new course on interplanetary negotiations.”
The autocue ran out of words, and Abigail stopped talking, pausing so that they would have enough footage to clip the end of that segment.
“Cut,” Paige called after a second. The camera automatically cut and then closed down ready for relocation.
Von’s gaze shifted from the camera lens to Paige who was standing several feet behind it. “Are you getting what you need?” she asked anxiously.
Paige nodded. “Yes, you’re doing extremely well!” she exclaimed brightly. “I’m ready to sign up for the course myself.”
Molly had been sitting on the front bench behind the camera and out of Von’s line of sight. Abigail looked over at her to get her reaction.
Molly nodded. “I think this is going to be really super.” She looked over at Paige. “When I came to visit Abigail the first time, I was floored by how popular she is with her students. She can’t kick them out of the lecture theater, even after her class is finished.”
Paige grinned, taking in what Molly was telling her. “Wow. That’s... incredible. I wish I’d had a teacher like you when I was at school.”
Von laughed, a little embarrassed. “Well, I do think that the think tank technology has been an excellent addition to the teaching process,” she explained modestly. “But, if you’re actually interested in interplanetary relations you could always sign up for the course. I don’t think it would be an issue with the university, since your boss is entirely responsible for the funding of it.”
Paige glanced over at Molly, not wanting to put her on the spot. Then she looked back at Von. “If it doesn’t look like it would interfere with my work, I may take you up on that generous offer.” She flushed a little pink in the small of her neck. “I must admit, I wasn’t the best student when I was at school, though.”
Von winked at her. “I’ve always been told that there’s no such thing as a bad student,” she said.
Paige grinned, then turned to Molly. “And she blames the technology for the enthusiasm of her students.” She rolled her eyes, teasingly.
Molly chuckled a little and shook her head. “I know, right?”
Von looked a little perplexed. And then embarrassed. Again. “So, we should shoot the next bit telling them how to register now?” she ventured, changing the subject to something a little more within her comfort zone.
Paige grabbed the camera and the autocue. “Yeah, I thought maybe we could do that out in the quad?”
Von frowned. “Even though it’s dark?”
Paige nodded. “Yup. We have flood lights. And it will make it atmospheric. Besides… all your students have seen the prospectus videos with perfectly manicured lawns and bright daylight making the buildings look like something out of a utopia. I think it will be refreshing for them to see something different. After all, I’m sure there are many of them who are around campus after hours, and this is when they feel most like this is their university.”
Von was taking it all in, impressed. She glanced over at Molly. “This one has a lot of insight into the psychology of relationships.”
Molly slid off the bench, and started helping Paige pack up the other pieces of equipment. “She does. She has her own company she runs now and the media she runs through her sales and marketing departments is top notch. Outsells all her major competitors by at least 100%!”
Abigail looked even more taken aback. “Well in that case, I’d be honored if you were in my class. I have a feeling you have a natural ability for all things to do with communication and negotiations.”
Northfield, Uptarlung Space Port
Jack arrived at the office, her pack weighing heavily now on her shoulder. It had been a long while since she had to travel like a cadet. Not that she was averse to hauling her own gear or putting in physical effort.
She found the registration office the Estarian at the station had sent her to. He’d said it was the fourth door on the right. As she approached the building she saw that the forth door was slightly ajar with a hand-written sign taped to it: REGISTRATION, BRAVO EQUIP.
That’s the one, she told herself, bracing herself for talking to civilians. She slouched her shoulders a little, and pulled at her jacket so that she didn’t look too orderly. Though she’d been in the military most of her life now, she hadn’t lost sight of how military folks were perceived by civilians, and she wasn’t about to give anything away here.
She stomped up the wooden steps to the slightly warped door and knocked before pushing it open. There was no one around, but a waft of the scent of sawdust and packing materials met her nostrils. She stepped up the final stair and shuffled in, slinging her pack down on the floor. She made a show of rolling her shoulder and loosening it from the load.
She heard movement off to her right, and a short Ogg appeared from the back room.
“Bravo?” he asked.
Jack wasn’t sure she heard him right. “Pardon?” she asked. Then her ears caught up with her brain. “Yes, Bravo Equipment,” she confirmed, mentally kicking herself for fluffing up straight out of the gate.
The Ogg didn’t seem bothered. He simply opened his holo and started reading down. “Name?” he demanded.
She’s been practicing this one. “Griselle Oriel,” she announced, trying to sound natural, like she had introduced herself a million times.
He didn’t look up, but poked into his holo and then closed it. “Sent you some registration documents. Medic is through there,” he nodded to the door on the other side of the room. “He’ll call for you when he’s ready. You can wait over there.”
He pointed at a bank of half a dozen hardback chairs. Jack glanced over at them, then back at the Ogg, and then down at her pack. Visibly unenthused by the whole situation, she bent over and lifted her luggage unceremoniously and hauled herself over to the chairs. She sat down, placing her pack on the floor in front of the seat next to her.
Crossing her legs, she opened her holo.
Here goes nothing, she told herself, as she eyeballed the bullshit paperwork she had gone to incredible extremes to avoid in her real life.
About twenty minutes had passed before a strange-looking Estarian hobbled into the doorway of the other room the Ogg had indicated.
“Oriel,” he called.
Jack sprung to her feet. “That’s me!” she said, relieved to finally be getting on with something.
The Estarian nodded and ambled back into the other room. Jack assumed this meant she was to follow. She pulled her luggage into an upright position and half lifted, half dragged it across the bare floor boards of the temporary airport building.
Inside the room were two chairs, a desk, and an examination table. And not much else.
“Sit,” the medic instructed.
Jack took the seat by the side of the desk, and the doctor pulled his chair out and sat himself down. “I have a series of questions to ask you, then I need a blood and urine sample for drug testing and then you’ll be free to go. If there are any problems you will be notified by holo and your shift will be canceled. If everything is okay, you won’t hear from us and you just report to duty tomorrow night. Do you understand?”
Jack nodded. “Yes. I understand.”
“Good,” he said flatly. “Onto the questions. Are you or have you ever been …”
The next hour was filled with inane and ridiculous medical disclaimers that they wanted the workers’ confirmation on. All of the rest of the information she gave was either something basic that would show up in the blood tests or in any of the DNA scans they would care to run.
After being poked and prodded, and having under gone an eye examination, and had her teeth counted, she signed a bunch of holo screens and was finally dismissed.
Picking up her pack, she didn’t bother to tuck her shirt back in, because... well, not military now. She exited from the same door she had gone in, and noticed that in the time she had been in the exam room a number of other people had arrived. Her eyes fell immediately to the female Estarian sitting delicately between two Estarian males, who each took up a chair and a half by the time they had leaned and spread their legs comfortably.
Jack averted her eyes so as not to give anyone the feeling that Maya and she knew each other. Maya did the same, pretending to study the patterns in the dusty floorboards. Jack shuffled herself and her pack out of the make-shift office and traipsed down the steps. She dropped her pack that she’d been carrying like a briefcase, and checked her holo for the instructions that had come through in response to her registration paperwork.
She scanned the details and then swung her pack onto her back and headed off down the road to find the hostel they had been booked into for the night. She decided she would dump her gear, find out who else was around, make some acquaintances — or not — and then head out to find some food.
Her chest felt numb and heavy at the prospect. She’d done enough traveling with the military to know that space ports weren’t the most inspired places for either accommodation or culinary requirements.
Chapter 7
Tímabundið Hostel, Northfields, Uptarlung Space Port
Brock arrived at the Tímabundið Hostel and looked up at the old brown, ugly building. He assumed that the others had made it here before him since he hadn’t seen any of them at the registration office. He hadn’t dared ask anyone for fear of drawing suspicion.
He checked in and made his way up the staircase with the thinning carpet and entered the sparsely furnished shared room. The furniture consisted of a dresser, a chair and a bunk bed. There was gear on the bottom bunk, claiming it as taken.
Guess we don’t get single accommodations on this gig, he mused, disheartened.
He pulled out the clothes he would need for the evening and his sweats for sleeping in, and then set about the task of finding the shower room.
He found the shower room down the hall, and after some faffing about gathering soaps and sponges and a change of clothes, he got himself showered and feeling almost human again.
Half dressed in his fresh clothes, his damp towel encapsulating all of his other things, he pushed his way back into his shared room.
There was a dark lump of a body on the bottom bunk. It moved, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Still stunned, he quickly gathered himself so as not to appear scatty. Then he looked a little closer.
It was Sean.
His body flooded with relief, and he wanted to say ‘Sean!’ until he remembered: Sean is called Rex.
And Rex and Tallus don’t know each other yet.
Sean casually rolled his head on the pillow to look at the person coming through the door. “Ah,” he said. “Guess you’re my roommate for the night.”
Brock shuffled into the room and closed the door, smiling. “Yeah. I’m Tallus,” he said, bowing in the Estarian way.
“Rex,” Sean replied curtly. “Rex Baron.”
Brock flushed a little, carrying the towel of shower things and dirty clothes. He glanced at the bundle and then shrugged awkwardly. “Nice to meet you, Rex Baron,” he replied. “Good trip in?”
Without an obvious audience to their conversation Sean seemed to be going through the motions. “Tube ride in. It was dull.”
He lay back again, his eyes falling to the bottom of the top bunk above him, and then closed his eyes.
Brock continued getting himself dressed and sorted his gear. “How did you get on with the medical? Tedious, eh?”
Sean grunted. “Yeah. But it’s all for insurance purposes,” he explained, almost as if he was embracing his role as the head administrator for the auditing company.
He seemed to think of something, and turned on his side, propping his head up in his hand. “So, what are you in for?” he asked with a slight smirk.
Brock spoke as he shuffled his things around, glancing up now and again. “You mean what is my job on the trip?” He slung his damp towel over a towel rail in the airing cupboard. “I’m a chef. So, food.”
Sean lay back down again. “I see.”
He paused. “Speaking of, we should probably go and find some food before we sleep. Maybe see who else in the crew has been put up here.”
Brock’s face brightened. “Good plan. Have you met anyone else yet?”
Sean had laid back down again, staring at the bottom of the bed above him. “I noticed a bunch of people who might be in the crew checking in earlier. Some Estarian chick said she was part of Bravo, doing computer maintenance.”
Brock bobbed his head. “Hmm. Dirty work, that is.”
Sean nodded. “Yeah,” he chuffed, springing up off the bed. “Okay. Let’s go do this then,” he told Brock.
Brock, perplexed by the sudden decision for them to move out, grabbed his boots, his room key card, and checked his reflection before following Sean barefoot out of the room.
Gaitune-67, Base Ops Room
Molly sat in the dimly lit ops room. Paige sat by her side, clutching a mocha. Molly took the time to appreciate the sweet aroma wafting in her direction.
“Looks like it will probably be full by the end of the week,” Von told them over the holo connection.
Molly’s eyebrows raised up. “Seriously? All two hundred places?”
Von nodded. “Yep. I think we’ve hit on something that is very much wanted right now.”
Paige was beaming. “That’s excellent news. I think the video turned out to be very effective. I can’t wait to tell Maya,” she said to Molly, before turning back and explaining to Von who Maya was and that it was she who had written the script.
“It worked like a charm,” the middle-aged professor agreed. “I don’t think they’re used to quite the same amount of thought going into a promotional video for a class. It certainly has stood out.”
Paige was flicking through screens on her holo. “It looks like it has had five hundred times more views than the average video on the system. It’s also been shared beyond just the students too.”
Von frowned, suddenly looking a little uncertain. “You mean, beyond the university?” She noticed that Paige nodded. “How did you get hold of that data?” she asked.
Molly leaned closer to the holo. “We have access to a lot of resources through various channels. The thing is, most of the data is publicly available if you have the expertise and the willingness to pull it. I just don’t think many people bother with it, because, well, they’re not trying to blaze any trails.”
Von’s face relaxed again. “Ah. I see,” she confirmed.
Paige was still flicking through screens on her device. “So, when did we say the course started?” she asked without looking up.
Von responded without thinking. “Two weeks from yesterday,” she told her.
Paige bobbed her head. “Neat. This is going to be awesome!”
Molly smiled. “It is indeed.” She turned to Von, her tone a little more businesslike now. “So, we should probably firm up the last few lecture topics you had on your last communication.”
Von pulled up a screen in front of her camera, blurring her image a little. “Yes, shall we?”
Molly and Von discussed the ins and outs of where they wanted the material to end up, and what the final take-away they wanted the students to be left with. During the conversation, they had a few sidebar comments that made it clear they had much they could learn from each other in terms of both the concepts and the application. Paige looked on in rapt attention, her enthusiasm for the subject mounting.
Molly noticed and when the final lecture content was agreed on, she looked over at Paige. “I think you ought to take this course,” she said, smiling. “If you think you can manage the workload, that is.”
Paige’s eyes lit up. “Yes, yes I can manage it. I’d love to, as long as you don’t think it will be a distraction from the work we do here?”
Molly shook her head. “I think it’s important that we support this material, and that we bring these understandings in house. Yes, you’re here to do a job, but more than that, you’re here to grow as a person, so you can do bigger jobs and take on bigger challenges for us in the future. It’s my responsibility to give you the opportunity to grow into those future roles. Not just to get projects completed here and now.”
Paige started tearing up. “That’s... amazing!” Her voice was wavering, as the emotion welled up in her. “You’re the best, Molly.”
Paige lunged over the distance of the sofa between them and flung her arms around Molly. Molly stiffened at the sudden contact, but then after a moment relaxed a little and returned the hug.
Von watched over the camera, her face soft and head tilted to one side.
After a short moment Molly straightened up and Paige let her go, returning to her side of the couch. “Okay, so I think we’re all set,” she declared. “Paige will be there at your first lecture, and if you need anything between now and then, just reach out.”
The ladies said their goodbyes and ended the call.
“I’m. So. Excited!” Paige squealed quietly, careful not to infringe on Molly’s personal space again.
A moment later, Molly was watching her disappear out across the ops room, muttering something about needing to call her boyfriend.
Molly smiled, amused at Paige’s capacity for happiness at the smallest of things. And her happiness at learning new skills. That was something she could get behind, one hundred percent.
Fjallabaki Bar, Uptarlung
Sean and Brock stepped into the bar.
Brock looked at Sean. “Sure this is it?”
Sean shrugged. “It’s the only one on the right on this block,” he said, recalling what the guy on reception had told them.
Brock took a deep breath. “Wow. Well, if this is where all the freight people come when they’re in this hostel, then no doubt we’ll find some of the people we’ll be crewing with.”
Sean ignored the commentary and strode deliberately up to the bar. “I’ll have a pint of whatever moves the fastest.” Brock joined him. Sean opened his hand to Brock. “What will you have?” he asked.
Brock considered for a moment, and then went with the safe option. “Whatever he’s having,” he said to the bartender, tipping his head in Sean’s direction.
Brock turned around and surveyed the layout, looking for the others. He spotted Maya and Jack over in the far corner. He started to wave, and then remembered that without an excuse to talk to them there is no way that he should know who they are. He replaced his elbow on the bar, and continued looking around.
“Looks like some of our folks are over there,” he said in a low voice to Sean.
Sean grunted something, and then when the man near them had moved away, he added quietly, “don’t even look at them.”
Brock turned back around, and pulled out a bar stool, sitting himself down. Sean did the same as they waited for their drinks. They pretended to make awkward small talk, each mentally trying to figure out a way to make contact with the other two so they could start building a relationship.
Eventually their drinks arrived, and Sean used it as a way to hide his lips as he mumbled across to Brock. “Maybe it’s better that we don’t know each other that well until we’ve had a bit of time on the ship. It wouldn’t be natural for a group of crew to meet just one night ahead of them shipping out.”
Brock nodded. “Sure,” he said, taking a sip of his beer, and then standing up. Sean looked at him a little alarmed.
Brock slapped his hand on the bar. “It’s okay. I’m just hitting the head!” he chuckled, walking away.
Sean laughed quietly to himself as he took another swig of his beer, deliberately keeping his eyes in front of him and nowhere else.
Brock was back in no time, and was about to sit down, when an Estarian guy brushed past him. “Excuse me,” Brock said spontaneously.
The guy turned around, and instead of nodding or muttering some similar polite apology he glared at Brock. He was holding a glass of beer, and it looked like he had slopped some. “Excuse you, indeed! You dreifbýlistútta (trans:= hillbilly) of a asswit!”
Sean tensed, but kept his eyes forward, not wanting to draw attention.
Brock however, had never been concerned about an audience. “Dreifbýlistútta, yourself!” he said in disbelief. “You bumped into me! I was just being polite.” His colorful attitude, complete with hand-waving, snapped into action.
Sean shifted in his seat, trying to turn his face away so he wouldn’t get pulled into whatever was starting to go down. This was the first rule of espionage. Become invisible. Unremarkable.
It was all he could do to keep from rolling his eyes.
The dispute escalated in volume, and the Estarian turned and put his beer down on the table, and started pushing the sleeves of his atmosjacket up his arm, more in a menacing gesture than it looked, like it was going to actually help his reach if he were to throw a punch.
Brock had his hands up. “Look, I didn’t come here for trouble,” he said.
“Yeah?” the Estarian said, stepping forward. “Well you found it anyway!” He lunged in Brock’s direction, and Brock winced, closing his eyes and quickly pulling his arms around his head, and leg up to protect his body. He’d had enough ass-kickings in a bar to have developed a form of physical self-preservation.
Even if his mouth hadn’t quite caught on.
Brock braced himself for pain. But the punches didn’t come.
He opened one eye, and the guy was no longer in front of him. In fact, it looked like he had been pulled back away from him.
Cautiously, Brock lowered his leg and arms, and opened his other eye, to find Jack holding the Estarian by the scruff of his collar.
“I don’t think so,” she told the Estarian.
The guy scuffled a little and got free, turning to face her. “Oh yeah, and what’s it to you?” he challenged.
Jack looked him square in the eye. “I don’t like seeing other people fighting,” she told him firmly. “Especially if I’m not a part of it,” she added, a glimmer flicking across one eye.
Likely due to his state of inebriation, the guy was oblivious to Jack’s confident movement and superior musculature. He hadn’t bothered to notice the ease with which she had already whipped him around and used her weight to counter his lunge. Having not noticed her skill and cat-like balance, he could almost be forgiven for his next words.
Almost.
“Oh yeah. You want a piece of this?” he asked, dramatically raising his fist. “You and whose army?”
She smiled. “Oh, just me,” she answered sweetly.
With that, the guy swung his fist at her as hard as he could. Jack adeptly and casually ducked, allowing his momentum to take him off balance. A second later he felt the wind being knocked out of him as he landed.
His head thunked dully on the floor.
Shocked, it took several moments before he could even feel the pain.
His body couldn’t respond, but he was peripherally aware of Jack leaning over him. “The next time you want a fight, why don’t you let me know, and I’ll teach you the meaning of manners in civilized drinking establishments.”
And then she had disappeared from view.
He lay there for several more minutes, aware of talking and activity around him, but still in too much pain and disorientation to do anything about it.
* * *
“Hi,” Jack said brightly to Brock, extending her hand, human-style. “Griselle. Griselle Oriel.”
Brock took her hand, not even bothering to pretend not to be impressed by her moves on the guy that was now sprawled out at their feet. “I’m Tallus. Copernican,” he added.
“Nice to meet you, Tallus Copernican,” she smiled, satisfied with herself. “Are you here on your own?”
Brock shook his head and turned looking for Sean. “No. I’m here with my new work colleague. This is…” Brock scrambled in his memory for Sean’s new name. “Sorry, erm, I’ve forgotten your name,” he said, tapping him with the back of his hand on his upper arm to get his attention.
Sean turned around in his chair to look at them. “The name’s Rex,” he said simply, nodding at Jack.
Jack waved back. “Ah great. So, you’ve just met?”
Brock nodded. “Yeah, we’re here for Bravo Freight company. Shipping out tomorrow night.”
Jack made an expression of mock surprise. “No way! Us too,” she told him, indicating back over at where she had been sitting. “I’ve just met my colleague Marissa, over there. She’s some kind of tech engineer or something.”
Brock grinned. “Nice.”
Jack looked awkward for a moment. “Do you... do you want to join us?”
Brock glanced back at Sean, who had gone back to ignoring them both. He turned back to Jack. “Sure!” he said.
Jack led the way back across the bar, and Brock slapped Sean on the arm. “Come on, man. Meet some of your new crew mates!”
Sean ignored him a moment more, taking another swig of his beer. And then he followed.
Just as the three of them were sitting down and making the introductions to Maya’s alter ego, a female Estarian came hurrying up to their table.
“Greetings of the day. I’m… I’m sorry to intrude. But I just saw what you did to that guy over there. I’m so sorry for any trouble. He’s not a bad guy, he’s just been drinking all day. And…”
The woman’s explanation came like a torrent.
Brock turned to face her better from behind Sean who was again, practically non-responsive to any kind of interaction. “You know that guy?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yeah. I’ve worked with him for years. He doesn’t do well the night before we ship out. He hates the work and each time he swears he’s not going on another run, but each time…” Her eyes hit the carpet, trying to avoid the feelings of shame she had over her friend’s behavior.
Brock’s eyes narrowed. “You’re shipping out too?” he asked. “Who’s your company?”
“Bravo,” she told him.
“Oh, us too!” Maya exclaimed excitedly, pointing at each of the four of them. “I’m May... Marissa. This is Griselle, and this is Tallus, and, erm, sorry... I forgot your name already.”
“Rex,” Sean added, still less than enthusiastic about meeting another person, and not amused that it was becoming a thing for them to forget, or pretend to forget, his name.
Maya grinned at him briefly, waiting to see if he showed any signs of her little dig.
“I’m Jayne,” the woman told them, waving and nodding at each of them.
Maya smiled at her. “You must join us,” she said. “The more, the merrier.”
Sean gruffed, “Unless you’re talking about dickwad,” tilting his head in the direction of the laid out Estarian on the floor in front of the bar.
Everyone politely ignored his comment, and rearranged themselves so that they could add another chair to the table for Jayne.
Jack picked up the conversation with Jayne. “So how long have you worked for Bravo,” she asked.
Jayne’s eyes rolled up to the ceiling. “Oooo, must be fifteen years now. The time just whizzes past. You say, I’ll just do it for a few years, to get some experience, or money together, or whatever, and then it’s just one more run, and before you know it, you’re part of the furniture.”
Jack bobbed her head. “Yeah, I know that feeling. I took this thinking it will be a change, though I know what it’s like. It’s all great while it’s new and exciting, but then…”
Jayne rolled her lips inward, bobbing her head sympathetically. “So, what’ve you been recruited for?” she asked.
She and Jack continued their conversation, and the others chatted and pretended to get to know each other too. After another round, Brock and Sean returned from the bar with drinks and noted that the guy that Jack had laid out was no longer there.
Jayne looked immediately worried and excused herself for a few moments to go and look for him.
As soon as she was out of earshot, Sean shook his head. “Shoot me now,” he said, his enthusiasm for this mission waning by the minute.
Maya grinned at him. “Come on, it will get better once we get into investigative mode. This is all just the preamble. It will be fun. Besides, it’s kinda cool pretending to be someone else for a while.”
Jack nodded. “Yeah. It’s kinda liberating. Like stepping away from leadership for the first time.”
Sean scoffed, raising his glass up to his mouth. “Like I get to know what that feels like.”
Maya frowned at him. “Yeah, but you’re never in charge. Molly is.”
Sean shook his head. “Maybe. Of you lot. I still report to the General though, as well. It’s like having two bosses—”
Maya shut him up with a warning glare that Jayne was returning.
Jayne arrived back at the table, this time with the drunk delinquent in tow. “Everybody, this is Auggie. Auggie, these are the nice people who will be your crew mates for the next several weeks. I suggest you use this opportunity to apologize.”
Auggie took a deep breath and shifted his weight where he stood. His shoulders still slouching as if he were being dragged somewhere he didn’t want to go, he turned to Brock. “I’m sorry I tried to pick a fight with you,” he said. And then he turned to Jack. “And I’m very sorry for throwing a punch at you. I don’t normally hit humans, given how delicate you are... so I’m glad you were able to stop me. I would have felt horrible if I’d actually hurt you.”
Sean was rubbing his forehead, one arm folded across his chest. He pointed at a chair at the next table. “Looks like you need a chair. Pull one over,” he said, ending the social awkwardness.
Auggie was introduced to the rest of the party and given some water to drink, as well as being encouraged rather sternly by Jayne to sober up.
Gaitune-67, Molly’s Conference Room
Pieter sat back in his seat with four telemetry feeds up on four different holoscreens. Each one looked normal. Or at least within normal parameters. They differed significantly from each other. Jack’s heart rate was the most steady and stable.
Like her personality, he thought, wondering if its consistency had anything to do with that, or her regimented training routine.
Sean’s heart rate was low. Supersoldier-athlete kinda slow.
If he weren’t walking around breathing, I’d swear he were asleep, he thought, tapping on the desk at double the rhythm.
Maya’s was a little all over the place. It sped up, then slowed, probably depending on what she was thinking or doing, or the emotional pressure of the situation.
Brock’s seemed to have a musical rhythm to it. The display would shift and change, as if the guy were standing in front of him dancing.
Pieter smiled to himself, excited to be getting to know his team mates so intimately.
Just then there was a tap at the door, and Molly stepped in.
“Everything okay?” she asked, standing behind him, off to one side, looking at the array of screens.
“Uh huh,” he confirmed, ruffling his hair and looking a little stressed. “They all checked in with their quantum beads about ten minutes ago. Maya was a few minutes late, and scared me a little, but I guess she’s still getting used to the routine.”
Molly pulled out a seat next to him. “Nothing unusual in the medical exams? Anything we should be aware of?”
Pieter shrugged. “I dunno. We opted not to activate the link until after they were clear, just in case the signals showed up. Only the quantum beads were live, coz well, they emit no signal.”
Molly smiled, and Pieter glanced sideways at her noticing her expression. “But of course you knew that,” he added blushing and sinking into his chair a little more.
Molly glanced back at him from the corner of her eye. “It’s okay,” she told him.
Pieter sat forward and poked at his holo, changing the displays one by one. “Hmm,” he remarked, flicking through and zooming in on one of the graphs.
“What is it?” she asked.
Pieter frowned. “Looks like the conductivity of their blood has altered.”
Molly leaned in, her eyes now scanning his screens for more intel. “They’re all being poisoned?”
Pieter shook his head. “Nope. No. They’re okay. They’re out drinking and it’s just kicking in.” He sat back again, relaxing.
Molly turned in her chair to look at him directly. “And how do you know that?” she pressed, her eyes boring into the side of his head.
Pieter swiped at a screen, activating the audio feed on one of them. Sean’s guffaw reverberated around the conference room, against a hubbub of background chatter.
Molly and Pieter chuckled.
“Okay,” Molly conceded. “They’re out drinking.”
Pieter dropped the audio feed from the intercom.
Molly turned to get up. “Okay. So if all is well, I’ll leave you to it. You and Paige have figured out a relief schedule, right?”
Pieter nodded. “Yeah, she’ll be taking over for me in a few hours,” he confirmed.
“Great,” Molly concluded. “Keep me posted.”
With that she got up and headed back out of the conference room.
Pieter swiped the audio channel back on, and listened to the chatter of his friends. The loneliness of the task, and their absence, somewhat abated by being able to hear them.
Chapter 8
On board the Flutningsaðili, Uptarlung Space Port
“Looks like this is it, this time.” Maya gazed numbly over at Jayne as they were told for the third time to strap into their crew seats.
Jayne cocked an ear listening to the sound of the engines for a moment. “Yep. I think so. They normally have a few tries at it before we actually get airborne. It’s a dance they do with air traffic control here. I think the pilot has a rather fraught relationship with the staff over there.”
Brock’s ears pricked up. “Oh yeah?” he asked, injecting himself into the conversation in the hope of gleaning some insight into Crash’s bizarre sparring with them.
“Yeah,” Jayne continued switching into gossip-mode. “I think one of the pilots used to be married to the director or something. We never had a problem at any of the other ports,” she confessed.
Brock bobbed his head. “Well, at least that’s a logical explanation.”
The three of them had chosen seats in close proximity to each other in the main personnel hold. There were about two dozen of them in total — that they could see. Plus, there would be pilots and engineers no doubt making the liftoff happen. Mind, it was a big ship. There could be other rooms where people were strapped in for takeoff.
“Is this your first time in space?” Jayne called over to Maya.
Maya nodded. “Yeah. I’m worried about space sickness.”
Jayne made her professional “empathetic face.” “Ah. It might be uncomfortable for a little while until we’re out of the planet’s gravitational field and until they turn the antigrav on, but after that it should subside.”
Maya frowned. “Why do they have to wait to turn the antigrav on? I thought when ships went up they had it on the whole time?”
Jayne shook her head. “No, it messes with the escape too much. On the smaller ships it’s not a problem, but if you consider the size of this thing, and the weight we’re carrying…”
Maya nodded, her eyes quite grave. “I see,” she said, now truly concerned about the space sickness.
The noise of the ship intensified, as did the vibrations. Moments later, Maya felt the ship lifting off. She gripped the hand rest on her chair.
Jayne glanced over at her. “It’s okay. It will be over in about an hour.”
Maya’s eyes widened. “An hour?”
Sean noticed the look of horror in her eyes. He looked over at her, his look telling her that she had been spoiled with Federation travel all this time.
He, on the other hand, settled in for the duration, closing his eyes and pretending to go to sleep.
* * *
After the longest and most traumatic lift off Maya had ever lived through, the seat belt signs were finally switched off and they were given clearance to walk around the floor they were on. They were still confined to just the upper floor until engineering confirmed that life support facilities were functional on all floors.
Jayne released her seat harness. “See,” she said, “that wasn’t too bad, was it?”
Maya looked at her in complete disbelief. “That was worse than I could have ever imagined,” she exclaimed.
Jayne pursed her lips. “Do you still feel ill?”
Maya nodded, barely keeping it together.
“Tell you what,” Jayne said, leaning in and lowering her voice, “once we get clearance to the fifth floor, I’ll take you down to the med bay and give you a shot. Have you feeling right as rain in no time. Though you may need to sleep it off, too,” she added.
Maya bobbed her head, still looking quite gray. “I’m okay with that.”
Jayne checked her holo. “Okay. We should get a drink before the briefing. They tend to start promptly. Like to get their money’s worth.”
Jayne headed out of the back door, and Maya followed, curious to explore her new environment.
She noticed that Brock and Auggie had hit it off during takeoff and were now chatting away. Jack was mixing with other people who were also allocated to the cleaning and laundry functions of their artificially built community.
Maya slipped out down the corridor just ahead of a group of Estarians in overalls. They all seemed to know each other, and were talking in tones that seemed to suggest they were less than pleased about being on another run.
Jayne turned to see Maya following her. She smiled. “So, what were you doing before you applied to Bravo?” she asked.
Maya shrugged. “Bumming about, mostly.” She paused, then qualified it. “Well according to my parents, who were sick of me ending up back home every time one of my contracts came to an end.”
Jayne frowned. “I’m surprised you have problems with getting contracts in computing.”
Maya sucked her lip to one side. “Oh, it’s not so much about getting the contract. It’s more like... keeping the contract.”
Jayne glanced at her curiously as she led the way into one of the rooms off the corridor, which opened out into a small kitchen.
“Yeah,” Maya continued. “Sleeping with the boss tends to end contracts fairly quickly.”
Jayne burst out laughing, and then remembered to be sympathetic to the young woman who she seemed to have taken under her wing. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, covering her mouth. “That must be... awful,” she said, her eyes dancing with humor.
Maya grinned. “Oh yes. It’s horrendous,” she said, laughing at herself.
Jayne opened one of the refrigerator units, and pulled out a couple of shakes, handing one to Maya. “Nutri-shakes. The reason we don’t land with malnutrition,” she explained. “Can’t just rely on the food they feed you in the mess hall.”
Maya looked at the bottle, searching for an ingredients list.
“It’s everything the body needs to survive, apparently,” Jayne said. “Though I’d add in a few vitamin injections now and again, and of course water.” She paused, breaking the seal on her own bottle. “And exercise.” She added. “Though if your boss turns out to be tasty, I’m assuming you’ll have that one covered!”
Maya’s mouth dropped open and she quickly clamped her hand over it, amused and shocked at Jayne’s playfulness. “Well,” Maya said. “Nice to know who your friends are,” she retorted, taking a sip of her nutri-drink.
The two women chuckled away, passing the time until they needed to reconvene in the briefing room they had just come from.
Gaitune-67, Molly’s Conference Room
Joel scratched his head. “Okay, so if my calculations are correct, there are these forty-something companies that haven’t been responding to our new measures.”
“Yeah, looks like it,” Pieter agreed glumly, taking a swig of an artificial power drink.
Paige glanced up from her array of screens. She was monitoring the undercover team, as it was her turn. But in the time when there was nothing to do they, had agreed it was plenty safe enough for her to be in front of the screens and working on other things — nail varnish related, or otherwise.
Joel swiped through a few of the screens he had selected. “It’s a lot,” he commented.
Pieter nodded. “Yeah. It’s super sucky. I mean, this one. Zyto Corp. Didn’t you pay them a visit early on when Molly first took it over?”
Joel closed his eyes repeating the company name in his head. “Yeah. I think so. Hang on, I’ll have a note.”
He pulled up another screen and ran a search.
“Yep, there it is,” he said, his eyes scanning back and forth reading what he had written. “Yeah, and at the time it looked like they were going to play ball. Hang on,” he said, flicking between two screens. “Looks like they’ve had a change of some of their key players.”
He pushed the screen over to Pieter to see. Pieter read through while Joel studied another copy.
Both were silent for a few minutes.
Pieter ruffled his hair and leaned his arm on the desk, resting his chin in his fist. “You know,” he said eventually, “I think I recognize some of these names.”
He pulled up another screen and started tapping away cross referencing. “Ah ha!” he said after a few moments.
Joel looked up. “What is it?”
Pieter leaned forward reading off his screens. “There are about five names which keep popping up, and they have an 80 percent occurrence in these forty-odd problem companies.”
Joel stood up to wander round to the screens and see. “What do we know about them?” he asked.
Pieter pulled up the bios of the first three on the list. He read for a moment. “These guys all made a lot of money under the old system. Looks like they’ve been using their influence to get back into these companies and restart their old ways.”
Joel rubbed at his stubble. “Yeah, looks like it. Okay, have Oz run the data. If we can verify this is what is happening then we have a starting point.”
Pieter nodded, and continued working on the screens.
Joel went back to his work station to carry out his own analysis.
Sark System, Aboard the Flutningsaðili, Floor 14
“So, what did you make of the briefing?” Maya asked, idly wandering next to Jack as she made her initial checks around the fourteenth floor.
Jack shrugged. “The general briefing was interesting. But why it took them three hours to explain the cleaning crew duties I’ll never know.”
Maya fiddled with her holo, trying to get connected to the ship’s Ethertrak. She frowned. “You were actually in there the whole three hours.”
Jack touched her holo at the check point on the wall of the corridor, and turned to look at Maya, her eyes conveying the drama. “The. Whole. Three. Hours.”
Maya had stopped walking. “To tell you to walk around your duty floors and check for things that need cleaning up?”
Jack bobbed her head. “Yeah, and to instruct us on general cleanups. The thing is, as soon as it’s a chemical or bio issue, or anything more technical, we have to clear the area and leave it to the highly trained experts on board.”
Maya grinned. “I see.”
Jack sighed, and the two women kept walking.
“You know,” Maya said getting her holo hooked up finally, “I think their security system wouldn’t be too hard to get past, and then we can see what is behind some of these doors.”
Jack looked around, making sure there was no one to over hear them. “You want to risk it? This soon?”
Maya shrugged. “We have to start poking about somewhere, right?”
Jack waved her hand, absolving herself of any responsibility. “You do your thing, honey,” she told Maya.
Maya stopped walking again and studied her holo intensely. Then she looked up. “Okay. Pick a door.”
Jack looked surprised at the immediacy of the request. “Seriously?”
Maya nodded.
Jack looked up and down the corridor, and then walked on a little further. “This one,” she said, pointing the next door on their right. It looked more like a sealed container than the others. Though there weren’t any warning signs telling them ‘bio-hazard’ or ‘radioactive,’ the key pad was heavy duty, and it was more like a portal into the next room, than it was just a swinging, or sliding door.
Maya looked at it, and then back down at her holo. She worked, poking at the screens, her tongue appearing out of the side of her mouth.
A moment later the door clicked open, much to Jack’s surprise. “That looked easy,” Jack remarked, looking back at Maya, and then back at the door again.
Maya shrugged one shoulder and hurried forward. “We should move. Dunno if these cameras are being monitored.”
Jack looked horrified. “There are cameras?” she asked, as Maya bundled her into the room.
Maya nodded. “Yeah. But I’ve set them to wipe the recording as soon as it records. Doesn’t get around that someone might happen to be viewing it real time though.”
Jack shook her head at how cavalier Maya was about her protocols.
A few moments later the little tech wizard had found the light switch and then turned to survey the room they had just stepped into.
Granted, it was more a chamber than a room. Jack stood in awe as she peered into the darkness. “How far back do you think it all goes?” she asked.
Maya was only half aware of her question. She had been drawn magnetically to the first person-sized vat nearest them, and was inspecting it, daring herself to touch the steely exterior. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice breathless.
She rounded the vat and found the misty, see-through front panel her eyes vaguely aware of the security pad on the right-hand side of the door handle.
The vat was empty.
She moved to the next one.
Also empty.
Jack glanced back at the door, listening. “We should go,” she said, but Maya had already scampered off out of sight investigating this strange wonderland they had just stepped into.
Jack tried again. “Maya!” she called in an urgent whisper.
Maya poked her head out from one of the vats two rows down from where Jack was standing. “It’s Marissa!” she said, the half-light catching on her grin making her look a little maniacal.
Jack corrected herself. “Marissa, can we go please?” she said, a little more firmly, like a grown up playing the game of asking the child nicely before said child received a walloping.
“Just a second,” Maya’s voice called from between the rows of steel cylinders.
Jack looked up and down the width of the chamber, trying to guesstimate how many rows there were. The darkness swallowed them up pretty quickly, but from what she could see there were at least a dozen rows, and the one in front of her was at least five deep. Her curiosity begged her to venture forward, to head into the vats and see how many there really were.
Just then she felt movement off to her right and saw Maya reemerge from the sea of steel. “Okay,” Maya declared, closing a holoscreen confidently. “Let’s move.”
Jack turned on her heels and in a heartbeat they were back out in the corridor, carefully allowing the door to close quietly behind them.
Jack started walking again in the same direction they had been heading before their rebellious little detour. “I think that’s quite enough excitement for one day,” she concluded. “Remind me never to let you do rounds with me again.” She glanced sideways at her mischievous companion.
Maya had closed her holo down and clasped her hands behind her back, walking nonchalantly half a stride ahead of Jack.
“Sure,” Maya agreed. “You’ll just miss out on all the fun.”
Chapter 9
Aboard the Flutningsaðili, Mess hall, Level 2
Sean sat eating on his own, his supplements untouched in a dish to his left.
“You really should take those,” a voice told him. Sean looked up to see Jayne looking down at him. She was still quite scatty in her appearance, her hair a little disheveled and tied in a short ponytail, just back off her neck. But the wisps framed her face gently, softening her look and almost countering her age.
Sean looked back at his food and took another forkful. After eating that, he answered her. “I don’t like them. They spoil the food.”
Jayne took it as permission to enter into a dialogue with him, and sat herself down at the table in front of him. “You’ve got months of this, though, and the food you’re eating doesn’t have…”
Sean raised his eyes to look at her. She stopped speaking.
He continued eating.
Jayne tried again. “You know... I get the feeling you don’t like me very much.”
Sean finished chewing a mouthful. He shuffled the gruel around his compartmentalized tray and spoke without looking at her. “What gives you that idea?” he asked.
Jayne clasped her hands in front of her face, her elbows on the table. “Oh nothing. Just the way you are. Moody. Unengaging.”
Sean looked up at her again. This time he allowed a smirk to appear on his face. “Unengaging?” he repeated. He held her gaze a moment.
Jayne looked awkward and then looked away.
Sean went back to his food. “I can see that,” he conceded. “So how would you have me be instead? Life and soul of the party?”
Jayne shook her head. “No. Of course not. You can be however you want to be. It’s just…”
Sean waited, deliberately not looking up. Deliberately not being too interested. He pierced a piece of synthesized protein and stuffed it into his mouth.
Jayne sighed. “I should leave you to it,” she said, putting her hands on the table to get up.
Sean waved with his fork. “Nah. Get yourself some food and come sit. You can tell me all about how you came to be the ship’s doctor on this floating hell. And I’ll tell you how I got landed with heading up administration for the lamest auditing company in town.”
Jayne flushed a little even under her blue skin. “Okay,” she said smiling, and scrambling to her feet. She headed off across the mess hall to the food counter and picked up a tray. Sean watched her leave, knowing full well he’d make her into an ally by the end of the day.
“Yo, Rexy-baby!” Maya came striding over and plonked herself down at the table next to him. She looked at his food, and leaned over grabbing a piece of baked ‘carboardhydrate,’ as she’d been known to call it back in the safehouse.
Sean looked a little taken aback, and his carboardhydrate was being munched before he had the chance to slap it out of her hand.
Jack arrived suddenly too, and sat in the seat opposite him, where Jayne was meant to be returning to. He looked bewildered. “Hey, someone’s—”
Jack ignored him and reached for something off his plate. Once bitten, he reacted faster this time, slapping her hand before she could pinch anything. “Go get your own food. It’s all there. Free of charge. Free for the taking.” He waved over towards the food counters behind him.
Maya spun round on the seat and glanced over before turning back. “I will in a minute. In the meantime, guess what we found.”
Sean sighed. “Surprise me.”
Maya folded her arms on the table and leaned in. “You have to guess!”
Sean waved his fork “no.” “You have less than a minute before Jayne gets back here.”
Jack looked amused. And impressed. “Look at you, having dinner with Jayne already. You dark horse!” She winked.
Sean didn’t react. “Fifty-six.”
Maya frowned.
“Seconds,” Sean clarified for her.
Maya nodded quickly and then got to the point, lowering her voice, and keeping her head low in confidence. “Fourteenth floor. We hacked our way into one of the rooms. Turns out it’s a chamber full of cryostasis vats.”
Sean shook his head. “Well, why wouldn’t they have stasis vats on board?”
Maya raised her eye brows and turned her head a little. “There were a lot of them. All installed and functional. Empty. But usable.”
Sean’s brow creased up. “Yeah but this is a space-going ship, without any faster-than-light capabilities. They’ll be needed to keep the crew from dying of old age before they get to where they need to be.”
Maya shoulders slumped. “Fine. So it wasn’t a discovery,” she resigned, glumly.
Just then Jayne arrived and sat herself down next to Sean. “You’re looking better,” she said to Maya.
Maya nodded. “Yeah. I had a wander with Griselle and it seems to have walked off the most of it.”
Jayne smiled, picking up her fork. “Well, if it comes back, or you have problems sleeping over the next few nights, come by and see me.” She looked at the others. “Any of you. Really. I’d kill to have a patient on one of these trips!”
Maya was the first to get the joke, and then Jack. Sean either missed it or didn’t want to waste energy laughing.
“So,” he started, glancing in Jayne’s direction, “Twenty-five floors. All of those are cargo stores?” he asked.
Jayne had started eating. She emptied her mouth before responding, shaking her head. “No. I don’t think so. I think a bunch of them aren’t used. But the facilities need to be maintained on them for regulations or something.” She thought for a moment. “I think most of the warehousing happens on the lower floors, just because it makes unloading easier when we land.”
Sean bobbed his head. “And do our guys get involved in the unloading?”
Jayne nodded. “Sometimes. Sometimes not. Depends on what is being shipped. Sometimes we have cargo that is sensitive, or technical and then the clients come and pick it up as soon as we land. We can sit about for days before we can get the rest shifted. Not that we all head out and start trucking stuff about,” she added, chuckling a little.
Sean smiled. “Ah, the royal ‘we’ then …”
Jayne nodded, a protein chunk on her fork. “Exactly.” She continued eating, and Sean looked poignantly at Jack.
Jack ever so slightly nodded her understanding. She’d also clocked that there were shipments being taken off before the ship may have even officially docked.
Jack suddenly had a thought. “So, are there any areas that are off limits?” she asked. “The reason I ask is that little Marissa here seems to think that she can go poking around wherever she pleases. But surely that’s not the case. Even if you have got skeleton key access?”
Maya shot Jack a look, which Jack promptly ignored.
Jayne shook her head. “Probably not. Though a cargo ship isn’t the safest of places to just be wandering around. Especially not on your own, she said, looking at Maya now.
“The thing is,” she continued, “when these ships get old, things tend to break. All it takes is for a burst exhaust pipe or a ruptured boiler, or, heck, even a box to fall on you and you’re done. I’d stay in the main common areas unless you have to go crawling around fixing computers. And always take someone else with you if you have to go out away from the common areas.”
Maya nodded obediently. “Okay. I will. Besides, this place is filthy. It’s going to take a month to get clean once I get back to Estaria, if the grime under my fingernails is anything to go by.”
Jayne sighed. “It’s true. It’s a problem,” she said sympathetically to the young girl.
Gaitune-67, Safe house
Molly followed Joel out of the kitchen. “I’m just going to check in on Paige and Pieter. They should be doing a hand over about now.”
Joel nodded. “Great. I’m heading that way too. And there was something I wanted to run by you about your Estarian portfolio.”
Molly took a swig of her protein shake as they walked. “Okay, great.”
They headed into the conference room together, causing Paige and Pieter to look up. Pieter grinned his haphazard kind of grin. “Looks like mom and dad have arrived at work!”
Paige giggled, as Joel made a playful swipe at Pieter’s head. Pieter ducked, nearly falling off his chair. “Missed!” he said victoriously as he tried to regain his balance.
Joel started to sit down, and a second later there was a thump as Pieter disappeared from view. He and Molly looked over to see Paige still snickering, and Pieter re-emerging from beneath the table.
“You okay, chap?” Joel asked, trying his best to keep a straight face, his bouncing chest giving away his laughter.
Pieter nodded, his face bright red as he hauled himself back up and sat properly on his seat again.
Paige’s sniggering had escalated to where she was killing herself laughing.
Molly, oblivious to why everyone was laughing, glanced over with a look of confusion. Instead of asking for clarification, she reverted to the task in hand. “So how are things going with the crew?”
The mood sobered, but Pieter reported in brightly. “They’re all okay. Everyone has been checking in on time. I’ve been monitoring some of the conversations here and there. So far, nothing untoward. Maya is doing some poking around, as you might expect.”
Molly smiled. “Indeed,” she agreed. “And everything working okay with the shifts and the hand-overs?” she asked.
Paige nodded. “Yep. No problems. Oz is also helping monitor things as well. If these guys so much as sneeze, we’ll know about it.”
Molly nodded her head once. “Good.”
She turned her attention to Joel, who was smiling at Pieter, who was still looking somewhat embarrassed.
“So what is the deal with the companies?” she asked.
Joel’s focus zoned in as he pulled up the screen he needed. “Pieter and Oz were doing some analysis of the companies that were under-performing, according to our remit.”
Molly pulled her chair around to see his screen. “You mean things like profits and pay outs versus reinvestments?”
Joel nodded. “Yeah. It looks like some of the old guard have re-established themselves on the boards of a number of companies, and are drawing salaries and bonuses just as they were doing before.”
Molly’s face turned dark. “Well, this needs fixing.”
Joel pulled his lips to one side, and nodded grimly.
Pieter chipped in, in a movie announcer voice. “I recommended termination, with extreme prejudice!” he interjected.
Molly raised her eyebrows. “I think that is probably the way to go.”
Joel looked at her shocked. “You mean... kill them?”
Molly laughed. “No silly. Sack them. And then put a lock on them so they can’t be rehired at any of our companies again.”
“Ohhhh,” Joel said, lifting his chin slightly as the understanding caught up to him.
Paige chuckled. “My, my, Joel. Someone is a little bloodthirsty these days. Maybe you should have headed out on the mission to get some ya-yas out?”
It was Joel’s turn to blush. “I just... yeah,” he buried his head in his hand for a moment.
Pieter patted him on the arm. “It’s okay, mate. We all think stupid things now and again.”
Joel looked at him sternly, and then at Pieter’s hand on his arm. Pieter removed his hand. “Just sayin’,” he added, defensively.
Molly had been reading down the list of names. “Yeah. I think I’ll head on down there and sack them in person. It will send a clear message to everyone else in the companies too. We should also issue a statement citing our specific reasons why: failure to comply with company Ethics and Operating Agreement.”
Joel made some notes as she talked. “Great, I’ll start drawing something up and then Paige and I can firm it up before we send it out.”
Paige looked up, nodded, and made a note herself.
“Great,” Molly confirmed. “Okay. I’m off to get some training in. Then I have a meeting with Von.”
Paige looked up in recognition. “Tell her I say ‘Hi!’” she chirped.
Molly grinned. “Will do, teacher’s pet!” she winked, disappearing out of the door.
Pieter glanced over at Paige. “Hahaa... teacher’s pet!” he chuckled.
Paige harrumphed and turned her attention back to her work, and eventually Pieter did the same.
Aboard the Flutningsaðili, Pike’s office
Max Pike sat in his console chair in his private office, just off from the ship’s primary control room. He swiveled around, his feet on the desk, handling a game ball as he talked on the holo audio.
“What about our guests?” the client asked.
“They’re safe,” Pike confirmed. “None of the crew know about them. I’ll be tending to them myself just to reduce the risk. But since they’re sedated they won’t be making too many demands.”
The client was silent for a moment. “As long as their brain cells are functioning when they get here,” he warned sternly. “Else there will be hell to pay. I don’t suppose I need to remind you how much we have riding on this, do I?”
Max sat up, putting the ball on his desk carefully. “No sir, you don’t. I understand exactly what is at stake, and will be doing everything to ensure this is successful. You have nothing to worry about from this end.”
“See to it I don’t,” the voice warned. “Let me know when the shipment is due in port and I’ll have my people come pick it up. I trust we have an adequate window?”
Max rested one hand absently on the ball, as if subconsciously making sure it wasn’t going to roll off the desk. “Yes sir. At least twelve hours. Maybe longer. I’ll know more when I get the updated flight plan.”
“Very good,” the client confirmed. “I’ll wait to hear.”
“Yes, sir. Of course, sir,” Max replied.
And then the line went dead.
Max realized he’d been holding his breath, and slowly encouraged himself to exhale. He stood up, returned the ball to its little stand on a shelf, and then headed out into the control room, slowly regaining his nerve.
Chapter 10
Staðall University, Von’s Office
Are you sure this is right?
You know, for someone who is so damn smart you have a shitty sense of direction.
Well it’s a good job I have a know-it-all AI in my head then, isn’t it?
Yes, it is, rather. Turn left here.
Molly put on the brakes, jarring her ankle in her slightly heeled boots.
A bit of warning, Oz.
Okay, next turn is to the right, the next corridor you go down.
Okay. We got this.
…
…
…
Now where?
Seriously? You still don’t recognize this?
Would I be asking you if I did?
Molly, it’s the third door on the left.
Okay, well how was I supposed to know?
You have been here before.
Once. And I don’t remember routes and places until I’ve done it at least five or six times.
Molly could feel her head vibrating with Oz’s laughter. She grabbed the sides of her head to see if she could stop it, or at least stop her teeth from rattling. It made no difference. As she suspected.
She knocked on the door.
Pack it in Oz. Gotta talk with the Prof.
The vibration subsided.
“Come in,” Von called from behind the door.
Molly opened the door and poked her in. “Greetings,” she ventured.
Von ushered her in and offered her the seat in front of her desk. It was a small office. Just large enough for a desk and two chairs, and a storage server that probably housed her entire library and research. It was no longer prudent to rely solely on the ether-cloud, particularly since the collapse of ‘79.
“May I offer you some tea?” Von asked, gesturing towards the replicator.
Molly grinned. “Oh, yes. That would be great. Thank you.”
Von selected the tea program and put a cup beneath it.
Molly watched the tea being dripped into the cup. “So, how’s the course going?” she asked.
Von’s expression was brimming with excitement. “It’s going incredibly well,” she started, chattering like an enthused child reporting on her day at school. “Obviously, we’re only a week in at this point, but the students are responding fantastically. In fact, we have more students trying to subscribe all the time as word gets around about what we’re doing.”
Molly grinned enthusiastically. Von handed her the mug of hot tea, and placed another mug under the machine for herself.
She poked at the program she wanted and turned back to Molly. “I’m thinking we’re going to have to increase our capacity. Or at least run the course again.
Molly hugged her warm tea-mug. “That’s wonderful. And yes, we must,” she agreed. “I think we should probably start working on that now. Perhaps get the support of the Dean behind us and lock it into the academic schedule.”
Von nodded excitedly. “Yes. I’m sure he’ll agree to it. I mean, it’s good for the university, and once the post-course evaluations are in they’d be mad not to.”
Von took her freshly replicated tea and sat down at her desk.
Molly leaned forward, her mug balanced with one hand on her knee. “So, talk me through what needs to be done to make this happen.”
Von flicked into business mode. “I think the first thing is to lock in a meeting with the Dean. Maybe even request an opportunity to address the board at their next meeting, which should be coming up fairly soon.”
Molly made a note on her holo. “Okay. Great. I’ll get in touch with him.”
Von had an intensity behind her eyes. “Good. Then we need to put our case together,” she added.
Molly made another note. “You know,” she said after a moment, “it would be worth talking to each of the board members in turn. Separately. Before we get into the room. So that they understand what we’re proposing and we have them on side individually.”
Von clicked her fingers. “You’re right!” she agreed quickly. She started making a note on her holo. “Let me take that one. I know most of them already, and some of us go way back.”
Molly grinned. “Excellent. This is working out well.”
The two continued plotting and planning for several hours, and by the time they were done they had what they thought was a solid action plan.
You know Oz, Molly said in her head as she navigated her way back through the corridors to rendezvous with her pod, this may just work.
You know Mollz, I think it might!
Molly stepped out into the Estarian evening. The Sark had gone down hours ago, leaving a coolness on the air. She took a deep cleansing breath, and looked out at the various old buildings of the university, feeling nostalgic for her misspent youth in academia.
Pod’s here! Oz alerted her as it descended just off to her right. Molly sighed, and walked over to it, hopping in.
Staðall University, Radcliff’s office
“Yes, send him in please, Amy.”
The door to his office opened up and philanthropist Raj Ghettie stepped into the room. Amy hurried behind him and grabbed the door handle to close the door behind him again as he strode in to greet the aging Dean.
Radcliff stood up at his desk. “What a pleasant surprise!” he exclaimed, his artificial enthusiasm and charm oozing from his carefully maintained skin.
“Likewise,” Ghettie responded, bowing slightly, before placing his hand on the chair that he had sat on before.
The Dean waved his hand, inviting the gentleman to sit, which he did.
“I’ll get straight to the point,” Ghettie began. “Our board of trustees have got wind of your new course. Something about interplanetary negotiations. Now, on the surface this sounds like a worthy course, but based on what we know of its content, and indeed the professor, it’s something that we’d rather wasn’t taught at an institution that we support.”
Ghettie held Radcliff’s gaze firmly.
There was a long silence as an addled Radcliff scrambled to figure out how to handle the request. He shuffled forward in his seat. “Erm... if I might ask,” he began, “what is it that is disagreeable to your board?”
Ghettie drew in a deep breath and pushed himself back into the chair he occupied. “Well, to begin with, the professor in question has unusual methods of negotiation and manipulation. Plus, her politics aren’t to our liking. She made some moves back when she was consulting that were not in the favor of the Ogg clans, and we would not like to see that kind of person poisoning the minds of the next generation. In fact, it’s in direct violation of everything we agreed to when we started donating resources to this institution.”
He paused, allowing the information to sink in for the Dean. Then, as if rehearsed, a superficial smile grew over his lips. He sat forward just enough to convey friendliness without sacrificing any power in the situation, and added, “I’m sure you understand our position.”
The Dean shifted in his seat, feeling like cornered prey. “Yes. Yes. Of course,” he replied amicably. “So, you’d like for me to put a stop to the new course continuing?” he clarified.
“We would,” Ghettie confirmed, closing his eyes briefly as he spoke. “And of course, if this were to happen we’d have no problem to continue funding the institution.”
Though still bewildered by the sudden demand, Radcliff now understood perfectly what he was being told. He made a decision on the spot. “Well of course,” he said brightly, “I’d be pleased to look into this and make sure we keep our curriculum within acceptable bounds.”
He stood, forcing Raj through social convention to get to his feet too.
“Very good,” Ghettie agreed, a fraction taken aback by the sharp dismissal. “I’ll report back to the group and we will continue ‘business as usual,’ as they say.”
Radcliff bowed slightly as a farewell, and Ghettie returned the gesture and headed out.
The door closed behind him, and Dean Alfred Radcliff settled back into his chair. He pulled up the course enrollment and attendance statistics and sighed, weighing the implications of what he’d agreed to do.
Aboard the Flutningsaðili, Floor 2
Brock stepped out of the steaming kitchen, following Maya into the much quieter corridor. “So what do you think?” he asked, wiping his hands.
Maya crinkled her nose and tipped her head to one side. “I don’t think she knows anything specific, but what she is aware of might help us piece something useful together,” Maya confided, finishing up their conversation about Jayne.
Brock nodded, distracted, glancing up and down the corridor. “Good. Any idea where to start looking for our forced guests?”
Maya shook her head. “Not a clue. Jack and I found a chamber of stasis units, but there were hundreds. No way we could search all of those without getting caught.”
Brock pursed his lips. “May have to. Seems like a logical place.”
Maya sighed. “Yea. Would it surprise you that I’ve only just realized that?” She rolled her eyes at herself. “I was just suspicious about how many units there were, and what this ship had also been used for in the past.”
Brock folded his arms, his chest bouncing up and down in quiet amusement.
“TALLUS!” A voice shouted from just inside the kitchen.
Brock stepped-back and glanced into the kitchen. “Yeah! Coming!” he called back in through the door before turning back to Maya. “I gotta go.”
There was a clang and a thud. And then more kitchen noise.
Maya’s face dropped. “Grr. I need your help though.”
Brock looked amused. “Moi? But I’m just a lowly kitchen hand.”
Maya slapped his arm. “I’m serious. I need a way to narrow the search. We need kidnapped victims and drilling equipment, remember?”
Brock glanced back at the door, taking a step towards it. Then he looked off into the distance, thinking. “Okay. So the hostages are going to be somewhere no one goes. Except, they’ll need feeding. So someone has got to be visiting them. You’re into the cameras already?”
Maya nodded.
“Okay,” he said, thinking. A look of frustration passed across his face. “Oz could cross reference this so easily.”
For a moment they both felt the absence of Molly and Oz.
Brock’s brow creased up. “What about key card access? You could set up a search for where key cards are being accessed where no one else is.”
Maya clicked her fingers. “Right. So I create a distribution of key card access and then look at the places that are only being accessed by, say, less than a handful of people.”
The voice came from the kitchen again. “Tallus! You motherfucker. Get your ass in here.”
Brock shook his head at the disembodied voice, and then waved a hand. He pushed his butt against the door and took one step into the kitchen. “Okay, sis. I got to go. Good luck!”
Maya waved as Brock disappeared back into the kitchen, yelling profanities back at whoever his work colleague was.
Dammit, she thought to herself.
This undercover thing wasn’t turning out to be quite as fun as she thought it was going to be. She missed her friends.
Staðall University
Von glanced excitedly over at Molly as they made their way across the quad. “I managed to have a conversation with about nine of the fourteen board members.
“That’s great!” Molly exclaimed. “Were they all on board?”
“Mostly,” Von confirmed. “I mean, some had their reservations about whether it fit with traditional academia and so on, but in principle they all liked what we were doing.” She hesitated. “But then, some of them even admitted they were a little jealous of the buzz and the results we were getting with the students and course reviews.”
Molly was partly taking it in. “Okay, sounds like a great start. Let’s get in there and seal the deal,” she added, smiling.
Von led the way into the building and down the corridor to where the meeting was being held. “Just in here,” she said, opening a door, and stepping in as fifteen pairs of eyes turned to look at them.
“Ah, good. They’re here!” exclaimed Dean Radcliff as the two women entered the room. “We’re ready for your presentation if you’re ready to get going straight away?”
Molly looked over at Von awkwardly, put on the spot. “Yes, of course,” she said, caught a little off-guard.
Von nodded to her reassuringly, and showed her to a seat on the long side of the conference table nearest the door. Von herself then took the only other empty seat next to her. She made the necessary introductions and then handed it over to Molly.
Molly stood up and presented from the end of the room, using the holoscreens and charts and student clips that she and Von had spent hours assembling the night before.
She went slowly and carefully, laying out her idea and supporting evidence as carefully and methodically as any trial lawyer. She diligently maintained eye contact with each member of the group, ensuring that they were following and on board.
When she was done she stopped talking and surveyed the room. Her eyes were met with looks that were attentive, but blank. She tuned in trying to read the room emotionally.
There was something going on that she couldn’t put her finger on.
It wasn’t that there wasn’t support for what she was proposing, but it was as if the support she should have was being stifled somehow. And yet, she couldn’t tell how.
She raised her eyes to the end of the table where Radcliff was sitting back in his chair, his hands steepled in front of him. “Thank you, Ms. Bates,” he said, unsteepling his hands and leaning forward.
“As is customary on all proposals brought before the board, we will now take a vote on how to proceed,” he continued. “Those in favor of the proposal will raise their hands.”
Two people at the table raised their hands.
Radcliff looked strangely satisfied. “Those against?”
Most of the rest of the hands went up.
Molly couldn’t understand what had gone wrong. She scanned the faces of those present, some of whom had averted their gaze since raising their hand and declaring themselves to be against her. There was an awkward shuffling in the silence.
Then Radcliff spoke again. “The nays have it. Apologies, Ms. Bates. It seems that your proposal is just not what we’re looking for here at Staðall University. I wish you luck with your future endeavors.”
Von thanked the Dean, and the board members and stood up. She closed up her holo, encouraging Molly to do the same. As if in a dream, Molly did as she was expected, thanked the board for their time, and then allowed herself to be shepherded out of the room by Professor Von.
“What just happened?” she asked as they were half-way down the corridor and out of earshot.
Von’s lips were tightened around her mouth. “I’m not sure. We should have carried that proposal, but... something else was going on. A number of those people I had talked to, even just last night, assured me they were on our side.”
Molly shook her head in disbelief. “Something must have changed their minds. Or someone.” She recalled the look on Radcliff’s face. She stopped walking.
Von stopped and turned back to her. “What is it?” she asked.
Molly cocked her head. “How long before we went in were they convened?” she asked.
Von shrugged her shoulders, her face confused as to why the question. “No idea. Why?”
Molly started walking again slowly. “I think Radcliff didn’t want the proposal to be accepted. I think he talked to them.”
Von was confused. “But whatever for? Why would he not want us to go ahead and—”
“Ms. Bates, Professor Von…” A voice was calling from down the corridor. Molly and Von looked back to see one of the board members running down the corridor towards them.
Molly looked over at Von, puzzled.
Von’s eyes widened briefly conveying that she had no idea either. She turned to the board member. “Mr. Atkins? Is everything alright?” she asked.
He was slightly out of breath when he came to a stop in front of them. “Yes, everything is quite alright. Apart from what just happened in there,” he remarked, thumbing back towards the meeting room. “But I had a thought, and, well. Here isn’t the place, but if you’d agree to meet me in a couple of hours, there is something I’d like to show you.”
He looked from Estarian to human and then back to the Estarian professor.
Von nodded. “Yes, of course. She glanced at Molly to make sure she was in agreement. “We’d be glad to.”
Mr. Atkins nodded his thanks and then turned to head back the way he had come.
Molly watched him leave. “So, what do we know about Mr. Atkins?” she asked.
Von shrugged again as they started walking. “Board member, family man. Third generation alumni. Not really much to tell,” she mused, racking her brain for some explanation or inkling of what to expect. “Let’s go grab some lunch while we wait for him. He has my holo on the board contacts list. Besides, I’m in the mood for a milkshake after all that.”
Molly grinned. “That sounds like a very good plan, Professor,” she agreed.
The pair wandered off in the direction of the senior common room, churning in their brains to figure out what piece of the system they had so drastically misread.
Chapter 11
Aboard the Flutningsaðili, Jack and Maya’s shared quarters
“Two weeks of traipsing around corridors,” Jack complained, “and what have I got to show for it? Blisters!”
She collapsed on the lower bunk.
Maya sat cross-legged on the top bunk, working away on her holo. Her eyes never left her screen.
Then she looked up, realizing something.
“Hang on,” she said. “You guys visit every floor?”
Jack had closed her eyes and was already almost dozing. “I don’t think so. I’m allocated one through five, most of the time. I think there are three others of us. So, assuming they each do five, that leaves five unattended. Unless they’re doing more.”
Maya scratched her head, pulling her mouth to one side. “That’s strange. And have you noticed anything odd on any of your floors?”
“Mess hall on two is a shit hole,” Jack responded.
Maya grunted. “Yeah, I saw some interesting animalistic feeding at dinner the other night.”
Jack muttered in her half-conscious stupor. “Yeah, I’d say it was because they were coming off nights, but I’m not sure those guys wouldn’t be like that even if they were day workers.”
Maya mumbled something, and then was quiet for several minutes.
“You know,” Jack said slowly, “there is an area on four that I can’t get through to. Terry finally explained to me today that I just don't have clearance after I bugged him enough to spit fire. Told me someone else is taking care of that sector.”
Maya shifted on the bed above her, and a moment later Jack saw her scrambling down the ladder. “Show me,” she instructed, opening a schematic on her holo.
Jack whimpered in exhausted protest and then hauled herself upright and sat on the edge of her bunk. She rubbed her eyes and Maya pointed out where the main elevator was.
“It’s around this way somewhere I think,” Jack said, still trying to stay awake. She paused. “Hang on. Something isn’t right.”
She turned the holoscreen around, and then back again. “Show me another floor?”
Maya pulled up another floor plan. “This is three.”
Jack overlaid the two, showing that on four there was a whole segment missing, and that the ship didn’t just end beyond the door she didn’t have access to.
Just then, Maya’s search completed and she pulled up the results, murmuring to herself.
“What is it? Jack asked.
Maya’s forehead wrinkled. “According to my analysis of keycards, that door is never accessed. Which means either it isn’t accessed—”
Jack finished her thought. “Or that your data doesn’t include that access point.”
Maya nodded. “And since I’m meant to have clearance for the whole ship, in case something goes down …”
Jack looked over at her, concern and excitement brewing in her expression. “Then they’ve clearly only given you the official ‘all-access pass’ and not the real ‘all-access pass.’”
Maya sat down next to Jack on her bunk. “Which is looking more and more like they have something to hide.”
Jack fell back on the bed, putting her arm over her eyes. “Great. Lemme know when you’ve cracked it,” she said.
Maya giggled and picked up a pillow and threw it on the exhausted Jack. “Fine. I’ll see if Sean wants to come check it out with me.”
Jack made a noise in acknowledgment. It was more of a mouthless sound, than a word. “Uhh.”
Maya stored the map, closed her holo and then put some additional clothing and boots on for braving the world outside their shared sleeping quarters. It was nearly time for dinner and she needed to talk with Sean.
Staðall University, Senior Common Room
Molly and Von sat chatting and finishing their milkshakes as Gareth Atkins arrived, bustling in having come directly from the board meeting.
“Milkshakes here are to die for!” he remarked as a he approached their table. “Honestly, when I’ve been working late, I’ll sometimes get them to add a shot of whiskey into the mix. Gives it a little something extra.”
His eyes sparkled in a way that Molly didn’t expect from someone who appeared quite straight-laced.
Molly grinned. “I think I’d like to try one of those some time,” she confided conspiratorially.
Gareth smiled. “Well, maybe when we have something to celebrate we should all do that,” he said quietly, glancing around to make sure that no one could hear that they were plotting something.
“I’m in,” Von said brightly, her academic seriousness cast aside for a moment.
They chuckled.
“So, Mr. Atkins...” Molly started.
“Please, call me Gareth,” he interjected.
“Gareth,” she corrected herself congenially. “Tell me, what was so urgent for you to come running out of your board meeting for?”
“Well,” he said, pulling out a seat at their table and sitting down. “Thankfully, the old codger called a recess after your segment, so I was able to hop out without raising suspicion, but I wanted to talk to you about a possibility that perhaps you haven’t considered yet.”
Molly, intrigued, nodded for him to go on.
“Well,” he said again, including Von in the conversation by glancing at her now and again, “it seems that your course is getting so much traction, and the students are not just excelling, but finding a new way of interacting with the larger world... I, and a few others agree, that it would be a shame to have that ripped from them. I mean, if anything, this is something that we should be encouraging more of at a society-wide level.”
Von’s face lit up, eyebrow raised in a look of ‘I told you so’ directed at Molly.
Molly grinned. “It’s funny you should mention that. This project began as a pilot. A proof of concept.”
Gareth turned his ear closer towards her, genuinely fascinated. “A proof of concept for...?”
Molly glanced around to make sure they weren’t going to be overheard by prying ears nearby. Satisfied, she continued. “A new type of university. One that could educate and inform not just the next generation, but the next generation of leaders in the system.”
“Oh my!” Gareth exclaimed. “That sounds very much along the lines of what I was going to suggest!”
The excitement bubbled as the three talked, laying their cards on the table. After an hour or so of confabbing it became apparent that they all wanted the same thing.
“Okay, so how I thought I could help was with the buildings,” he offered. “It will cost money, but we can figure that out. However, after today what is obvious is that your days here are severely numbered.”
Molly nodded solemnly, hoping that Von wasn’t going to be too disappointed by the realization.
Gareth continued. “I have contacts within my family. They control a trust which holds an old building within an estate. The trust’s funds have been depleted by the building maintenance costs because ultimately, they have no tenants, but it used to be an old seminary back in the day. It would be perfect for a new university.”
Molly’s face lit up in sheer delight. “You’re serious?”
Gareth nodded. “I am. I’d like you to see it.” He looked to Von. “Both of you. Would you like to?”
Von clapped her hands together. “I would indeed!” she agreed enthusiastically.
Gareth grinned. “Well, no time like the present.”
The three agreed and got up from their empty milkshake glasses and collected their belongings, and made arrangements to meet out front, on the road, so that Gareth could pick them up in his car.
As they walked back across the quad, Molly could barely contain her excitement. “If this works, this will be the beginning of something completely new. Something no one has ever done before!”
“It will, indeed,” agreed Von.
* * *
It had been a short car ride to the buildings, and Gareth had made good time with his interesting driving skills. Heading through the main gates and up a long driveway, they pulled up in front of a main building. Though they had been warned it was deserted and in need of some upkeep it certainly looked majestic and more than functional.
“I love it already!” Molly exclaimed as they got out of the car and Gareth led them up the steps.
Once at the top he located a side door to the porch and used a keycard and key code to gain access. “Right this way, ladies,” he gestured chivalrously towards the open door.
They stepped in, one after the other, via an old-style air lock.
Once inside, the porch opened out into a great hall. It was like stepping back in time. There were several floors bumping onto the central area like an atrium, which felt almost castle-like on account of all the stonework.
Molly looked around, awe-struck by the size and the grandeur. “It’s incredible,” she whispered, noticing there were old-style bookcases on the upper levels. By the looks of it, they were filled with actual paper-printed, books.
She blinked, then looked again, straining her eyes to see. She could barely believe it. No one used books anymore.
Gareth scuttled ahead of them like a kid showing his friends around his candy store. “Down here we have facilities like kitchens and common areas. Over this way there are a number of lecture theaters. And then,” he waved his arms in the direction of the back, “over and around the outskirts of the gardens, behind the main building, there have been a number of buildings added over the years which have been used on and off as offices and labs.”
Von put her hands to her face. “It’s beautiful…” was all she could manage to vocalize.
They toured the site, allowing Gareth to point out the various features brainstorming what each area might be used for.
When they had been around the entire campus, Gareth walked them back to the front porch where they had started out.
“So, what do you think?” he asked.
Molly and Von looked at each other.
Molly grinned. “It’s perfect,” she said, beaming away. “I think our next move is simply to figure out how we can cash-flow it and what we need to do in terms of staffing and building up a faculty.”
Von nodded. “No small feat,” she agreed, her face bright, but clearly aware of the work ahead of them.
Gareth bobbed his head. “Of course, I’ll work with you any way I can to make sure that the buildings are as affordable as possible. But as you already know, I want to see this project go ahead. This won’t be a commercial venture for me, or the trust. It will be merely a way of making sure these magnificent buildings are put to good use.”
The three chatted a little longer and then Gareth took them back to the university, where they promised to reconvene and do some more work on the project.
Molly mulled the possibilities in her mind as her pod whisked her back to Gaitune. She couldn’t believe how wonderfully everything was coming together, and after the epic failure of her presentation to the board only hours before.
She smiled to herself. Sometimes you just never know what you’re being led to, she mused.
Downtown Spire, Estaria
“Wow, that was… er, interesting,” Pieter commented, stepping out of the airlock of the enormous office building.
Joel traipsed out behind him. “It was,” he agreed grimly. “But you know, we expected some friction.”
Pieter’s eyebrows were high. He shook his head in dismay. “I know, but they treat it as if it’s their company. Their industry. Their money!”
Joel nodded, starting off down the street to the alley. “I know. And this is one of the reasons they seem unable to grasp the new mandate.”
The pair of them disappeared into the alley way, and their pod descended quickly. They headed over to it and hopped in.
Joel programed up the next destination. “I think they’ve just had it their way for too long. They’ve grown up thinking that fear and greed are just a fact of life, and this is all they know. Unfortunately, those on our hit list have shown us they’re not willing to try anything differently, and we just have to respond to that.”
Pieter nodded, looking down at his holo messages. “Paige has said that the statements are going out as we planned. One media release for each high-level sacking, and then a blanket cover announcing the enforcement of the operating agreements.”
The pod lifted off in to the air. Joel watched out of the window as they ascended above the sky line. “It must be obvious by now that these companies are related. Has there been any commentary on that yet?”
Pieter ruffled his hair. “Lemme ask her.”
He typed and waited, slouching back in his seat and only then remembering to put on his harness.
A moment later he got a response back. He shook his head. “No one seems to have put it together,” he told Joel. “Paige suspects that it would be clear to anyone watching, but it’s as if no one really cares. She also mentioned that Maya is on a ship in the middle of nowhere, so that takes our biggest journalistic concern out of the way.”
Joel smiled. “That is true!” he agreed. “We’re lucky to have her on our side, that’s for sure.”
He glanced down at his holo notes and the list of undesirables they were extracting from Molly’s companies. “Okay, let’s look at who we’re sacking next,” he muttered.
2nd floor, Rex Baron’s office
Pascal Randalf poked his head round the door of Rex’s office.
“Settling in okay?” he asked, grinning a wide grin, and showing his teeth, something almost unseen in Estarian facial expression.
Sean looked up, shocked to have someone engaging him in chitchat. When he was Sean Royale people knew not to do that. But as Rex Baron he hadn’t allowed himself to lay out the ground rules or demonstrate that he was not a chatty kind of guy. “Yes. Thank you. Everything is tick-i-tee boo.”
Shit. Maybe that was going too far? Damn, how do civilians talk these days? he wondered, watching Randalf’s expressions for feedback.
“Good to hear,” Randalf continued, completely unfazed by the tick-i-tee boo. “Any space sickness?”
Sean spontaneously started laughing, but then realized that this was a thing that people went through. He disguised his laugh as a cough. “Phahhahahaha! Cough cough. No. I’ve been fortunate.”
Fuck. Not normal enough. The cyborg components correct for that shit.
He corrected his error. “I mean... er... I had a touch of it for the first day or so, but got my electrolytes up quickly and am feeling fine now.” Sean watched again, holding his breath.
“Good, good,” Randalf remarked.
Sean felt he needed to offer something back. “Do you still get space sick on these trips, sir?”
He couldn’t believe he was calling someone who was not the General “sir.”
Randalf put one hand on his hip and leaned on the door frame as if he were the office Adonis. “Nah. Not anymore. But I’ve been doing this over a decade now. Don’t worry, Sport. If you keep coming out with us, you’ll hardly notice it after a few years.”
Sean smiled, trying to contain his contempt for the sniffling man. “Right,” he agreed.
Randalf turned to leave, and Sean suddenly thought of something.
“Ah, actually. Mister Randalf,” he said, getting up from his desk and pulling up a couple of holos from his desk station, and dragging them across the room with him. “I think I’ve got something on the books that isn’t quite matching up.”
Randalf turned, frowning. “Ah, that’s odd,” he said. “Show me.”
Sean showed him the screens. “You see, this shows us weighing in at 4:56 but the official paperwork has us at 4:30.”
Randalf rubbed his chin. “That is odd,” he agreed. He paused, thinking for a minute. Then, in his perfectly modulated supervisor’s voice he spoke again. “Leave it with me. I’ll see what’s what.”
Sean pretended to play the conscientious employee. “Would you like me to go through the inventory and see if I can find out what may not have been accounted for?”
“Oh goodness no, Rex,” Randalf scoffed haughtily. “We have twenty-five floors on this vessel. That would take this trip plus the return journey, and of course we off-load when we get there. No. Leave it with me. Thank you for bringing this to my attention.”
The matter was closed.
Sean bobbed his head, folding the holos away. “Yes sir. Of course. I still haven’t got my head around quite how big this operation is.”
He walked back to his desk. “It’s one thing to look at numbers in a spreadsheet, or inventory on a search-able database back in the office …”
Randalf nodded sympathetically. “Yes. It takes some getting used to,” he said patronizingly. “You’ll get there though.”
He tapped the door frame and then wandered away down the corridor that felt like it was made of cardboard overlaid on top of metal.
Sean sat back in his chair.
Gotcha! He thought to himself. Now to prove it.
Just then there was a rattling and jingling in the corridor, coupled with footsteps.
Maya, he predicted immediately, and just as he recognized the sound, Maya walked past, looking backwards as if she’d been checking all the offices she walked past, looking for him. Spotting him, she spun back around and strode straight into the room unceremoniously.
“Hey,” she said, bringing the feeling of a whirlwind of activity with her.
“Hey,” he replied, the stagnation of a day in the office in his voice.
Maya stopped suddenly, realizing the hell she had walked into. “You okay?” she asked, looking from side to side and coming to terms with his shoe box office.
He nodded. “What can I do for you, Marissa?” His natural impatient look had returned to his face now that he wasn’t having to fool people he was Rex.
“I’ve found something,” she disclosed quietly. “Well, I think I have. And I need your help. Brock, I mean Tallus, can’t help coz he’s on shift for the next three days. And Jack has just collapsed. I could go on my own—”
Sean shushed her. “No. I’ll help. Just not right now.” He discreetly touched his ear with a finger, and Maya nodded.
“I’ll see you in the mess at feeding time,” he told her, getting up and ushering her out of the office.
“Are you shooing me, Rex?” she asked, mock indignantly, as she was walked backwards out to the corridor.
Sean held her upper arm. “Yes, Marissa. I have work to do. See. You. Later,” he said, gritting his teeth and glancing down the corridor to make sure no one had seen them together.
Maya rolled her eyes and straightened her atmosjacket. “Later, Rexy!” she called flippantly, twiddling her fingers in a wave and trotting away back down the corridor.
Sean took a deeeeeeep breath as he returned to his office, and then to his desk, to continue to poke around the files he could actually access.
Looks like she’s having way more fun on this undercover lark than some of us, he thought, noticing how she was coming out of herself more on this ship than she had on Gaitune.
Maybe it’s the act? Or maybe it’s the liberation of not being herself.
Okay, Royale, back to work, he told himself, staring blankly at his holoscreen.
Chapter 12
Staðall University, Lecture Theater 21
Von sat in the darkened lecture theater, the lights over the front bench giving an atmospheric hush that would normally enhance academic awe.
Molly strode in, dropping down the steps two at a time. “Paige says ‘Hi,’” she said brightly as she arrived at the front where Von had been marking assignments on her holo.
The professor looked up. “Ah. Wonderful. She’s an excellent student, you know. One of the best I’ve ever seen. And we get the cream here,” she said with a glimmer of pride.
Molly smiled. “She’ll be pleased to hear that,” she responded, wondering how to convey the sentiment to Paige without sounding like she’d been to a parents evening. “So, you said you wanted to talk through some issues with the existing course? What’s up?”
Von closed her holoscreens and looked up. “The course itself, and the students, are fine.” She paused, correcting herself. “Actually, better than fine. They’re excelling, and excited, and though we’re several weeks in now, there are people still trying to sign up for it.”
Molly grinned. “That’s... awesome!”
Von matched her grin. “It is, isn’t it.”
Molly’s smiled faded. “I sense a ‘but’... ”
Von’s eye dimmed and she became more solemn. “Yes. There is a ‘but,’” she sighed. “We’re facing resistance within the department. Our head has suggested we cut it short, so still award the same number of credits but end it three weeks early. I think I’ve staved him off for the time being, but this may unravel quickly.”
Molly’s eyes widened. “Wow. They really don’t want this material being taught!”
Von bobbed her head sadly. “It seems like.” She stood up and started packing her things away. “I suspect they’ve gotten wind of what we’re doing with moving to the new campus, and it’s a little bit of sour grapes,” she said slowly, as if contemplating the idea as she said it.
Molly sucked her lip into her mouth. “I guess it was inevitable they would find out,” she said, contemplating how it might have become common knowledge.
“The other problem you’re facing,” Von explained gently, “is that these people walk around thinking they already know everything about everything. If you look at improving policies to help the masses, they call you a socialist. If you talk about not killing and not going to war for the sake of it, they say that you’re unrealistic. They take no time to consider what you’re actually talking about because they bring all their filters and pre-formed ideas to the table.”
She shook her head, her eyes showing how hard this had been for all the years she’d been trying to make a difference with her work. “It just makes them unwilling — and in a lot of cases unable — to even hear what you’re suggesting. They just filter it out and decide what you mean, based on their sound bites and prejudices.”
Molly slumped down in a seat on the front row. “So what do we do?” she asked, frustration hanging in her tone.
Von tilted her head in a sort of surrender. “Deal with it, I guess. You’re not going to change their minds by going head-to-head, or trying to have a rational discussion. I suppose the only thing you can do is keep doing your thing, and just engage with those who are truly willing to see a new alternative.”
Molly smiled weakly. “So I guess that means the students then?”
Von nodded. “For the most part. I’ve had a few of the faculty be in touch privately to offer words of encouragement, except, for the most part, it comes with a warning: ‘Don’t be too XYZ, else they’ll think you’re this. Or don’t push too hard with your ideas because they’ll stop entertaining the idea of this course and shut it down…’”
Von sighed and perched on the front bench, as she often would when she was lecturing in this hall. “It’s just the way it is with these things,” she explained, shaking her head. “Anything that pushes peoples’ buttons is going to be met with resistance.”
Molly looked up, her face galvanized with a sheen of determination now. “I suppose that since we’re going down this route, we just have to accept that some people aren’t going to come with us.”
Von nodded. “I think so.” She got up and ambled over to take the seat next to Molly. “But you didn’t start this whole thing just for entertainment. If you did, there were other courses you could support, courses that would have ruffled fewer feathers. You started this for a reason.” She paused. “Because you had a bigger vision for what is possible.”
Molly nodded, remembering. “Yep. I guess if the students want intellectual popcorn they’d be taking other courses too.”
Von gazed at the floor for a moment. “So... we proceed?” she asked.
Molly nodded, without any new energy, as if it were just a continuation of her original concept. “We proceed,” she confirmed.
Aboard the Flutningsaðili, Mess hall, Level 2
“Okay, let’s go!” Maya said sharply from behind him.
Sean had been sitting down for about 84 seconds before Maya had searched him out, prodded him in the ribs, and then circled round the table to plonk herself down in front of him.
He looked down at his food. Assuming one could call it that. “I need to eat,” he told her, his tone sounding more like a negotiation than a statement.
Maya pretended to be exasperated and huffed, putting her head down on her arm on the table. “Oh. My. Ancestors! You’ve got to work. You’ve got to eat. You know, you’re taking this Mr. Rexy Boring thing waaaay too seriously.”
Sean narrowed his eyes. “And you’re taking this Marissa-floozy thing way too lightly,” he said quietly, leaning over the table a little and lowering his voice.
She looked up, strands and clumps of her dark hair falling over her face in a haphazard way. She sighed. “Just coz I want to get on with this and get it solved.”
“Patience you must learn, young one,” he told her.
Maya sat up a little. “Okay. So, after you’ve eaten then?”
Sean nodded. “Sure. But where is it we’re going?”
Maya looked over to check the queue at the food station. There were relatively few people. “Okay. Lemme grab some food and I’ll fill you in,” she promised.
She was up and making her way across the mess room in a shot. Minutes later she returned with a tray of food, plus her supplements.
“You actually eat those?” Sean asked her nodding at the colored pills in the little side tray.
“Yah-ha,” she said, putting a couple in her mouth and slinging them back with a sip of water.
Sean shuddered.
“Why?” she asked.
He shook his head and continued eating. “Reminds me of my days on Teshov, when that was mostly all we had to keep us functional.”
Maya’s eyes widened in horror. “You’re kidding? You mean no food? Like real food?”
Sean pulled his head to the side for a moment. “Nope. Anyway — what’ve you found?”
They sat eating, quietly catching up on Maya’s activities over the last several hours. After they were done they cleared their trays away and left the mess hall, casually, so as not to draw any attention.
Once they were out in the corridor Maya spoke again. “You wanna go there now?” she confirmed.
Sean nodded, and Maya led the way.
Gaitune-67, Hangar Deck
Molly’s mind was whirring following her emergency meeting with Von that evening. She was still distracted by it as she ambled absently back through the hangar deck after returning to Gaitune.
You know, the more I think about this, the more I think we just need to get on with it.
I thought that’s what you were doing?
Yes, but I mean, put a stake in the ground.
Uhmmmm….?
Well, what if we were to start making offers to faculty members. Those that we want on board, regardless of whether they’re at the university already or not.
That would certainly cause more of a rupture.
I think the rupture is already happening. But at least this might create some allies.
True. If they have the bottle to take the leap.
Molly contemplated it for a few moments, and walked straight past the steps back up to the safe house.
Where are we going?
Oh shit!
She stood trying to figure out what she was doing, and then spun around on the spot before she realized she had come too far. She backed up and found her way back up the stairs to the corridor and the demon door.
You know, thinking about it…
She stopped at the demon door and took a right into the ops room instead.
Oh, great. I know that feeling in your circuits.
Molly was in deep concentration mode. She headed straight for her usual console and connected a call with Von.
The holo flicked up, and Molly started talking before the image settled. “Professor Von, sorry, I know it’s late …”
A sleepy looking Abigail Von appeared on the holoscreen. “It’s quite okay. Is everything alright?” she asked, concern wrinkling her slightly puffy eyes.
Molly didn’t even bother to sit down. “Yes, yes fine. I’ve just been thinking on the way back home. I was wondering if you’d compile a list of people you’d like on the faculty. Say, your top twelve?”
Von answered slowly, her brain catching up with the processing. “Yes, I can do that.” Her voice conveying her curiosity. “Are you thinking of approaching people soon?”
Molly leaned her hands on the console. “Yes, very soon. I’m thinking if we have a faculty and a full first semester of materials we could probably soft launch a program next cycle.”
Von rubbed one eye, waking herself up some more. “You mean after this course has finished at Staðall, move the whole concept across to the new university?”
Molly shifted her weight onto one foot. “It would be out of the way of the Dean and his cronies. We’d be free to teach what we wanted.”
Von had leaned forward and rested her head in her hands. “But what about the students?” she questioned.
Molly shrugged. “Well, we’ve proven the concept. The rest will be down to marketing and smoothing the mechanism for anyone who wanted to transfer, but we could handle all that. Right now I just want to be in a position to approach those who we’d want on board and make them an offer. But you’re the one who would know who we’d want in the mix.” Molly leaned up and stood a little straighter.
Von nodded enthusiastically, dropping her arms to the table in front of her. “Yes. I would. In fact — oooo, this is going to be exciting!”
“Great,” Molly said. “Well, I’ll let you get some sleep, and look forward to your recommendations.”
Abigail bobbed her head. “Very good,” she agreed.
“Good night, Professor.”
“Good night, Molly.”
The call clicked off.
Molly stood in the darkened ops room, letting her brain catch up to where everything was moving.
I think this could work, Oz.
I have calculated a 92.9 % probability of success as defined by your previous comments of what success would look like.
That’s good to know.
It is. And in the meantime, you are overdue for some rest too. You’ve been working hard on this, and I noticed you have clocked very little REM the last few nights... perhaps on account of the worry?
What worry?
Oh, I dunno. The pressure of suddenly starting a university. Having your team out in the middle of the system undercover. Not knowing what’s happening with your realm jumping and the talisman thing.
Hmm.
I take that to mean you agree with my point?
I do.
Well good then. Time for bed, Mollster.
Molly ambled out of the ops room with less vigor than when she strode in.
You know it’s true what they say: Tiredness hits you when you stop.
It appears so…
Chapter 13
Aboard the Flutningsaðili, Level 4
Maya was midway through an information dump with Sean, once she was sure they weren’t being recorded. “Okay, so the cameras are on the no-record loop. I’ve made it look like just a glitch in the system in case anyone notices. A few other cameras on other floors are also experiencing it.”
Sean’s eyes glinted with recognition at the technique she was using. “Ah, to avoid the no fingerprints syndrome.”
Maya nodded. “I believe so, but that’s a human history thing, right?”
Sean nodded. “I’m not sure. But it’s been rehashed on Estarian crime dramas so I’m pretty certain.”
Maya stepped out of the elevator onto the fourth floor. She started walking confidently, in case there was anyone around who might see them. Sean followed, suddenly having to widen his gate to keep up with her.
They made their way straight down the main corridor and then at the cross roads turned right and then left again and kept following it down.
At the end of the corridor she could see the double doors that led to nothing. “That’s it,” she muttered quietly to Sean.
He glanced around, trying to see if there was another way through. Then he looked up.
“You’re kidding?” Maya gasped, looking up and seeing that he’d spotted a ventilation outlet.
“Do you want in, or not?” he asked, without even taking his eyes off it.
Maya looked around, realizing they had limited options. “I could hack the access. Given enough time,” she attempted.
Sean looked down at her. “Okay. That’s one option.”
“Also,” she added, “we don’t know if there is breathable atmosphere on the other side.”
Sean glanced down at her, putting his hands on his hips. “Except we do know someone is going in and out of there if there are living, breathing hostages.”
Maya pursed her lips, thinking. “Unless the hostages are elsewhere. Like on ice?”
Sean bobbed his head. He was about to speak, but there was a faint bang off in the direction of the doors they had not yet approached.
Maya looked at him, the whites of her eyes showing. “Is someone coming?” she asked.
He moved, pulling her back in the other direction away from the doors. Looking back, he could see movement behind the glass.
“Shit,” he mouthed to himself.
Maya, in a panic, had run ahead of him and whipped around the corner at the end of the corridor they had just come down. She turned left, away from the lift.
Shit, Maya, Sean cursed in his head, wrong way.
He rounded the same corner too and almost bumped into her as she’d pressed herself against the wall. He glared, at her, then stood on the other side of her.
Catching his wits, he checked down the corridor. There were doorways. With broken up shadows and recesses. He tugged at her arm, and pulled her along the corridor pointing at the doors. She understood and hid in one doorway. Sean took the next one down.
They waited.
Moments later they could hear the footsteps pounding up the corridor, almost amplified by the starkness of the passageway. They grew louder and louder. Maya felt her heart in her mouth pulsing with the anticipation of being caught.
The footsteps reverberated louder still as their owner rounded the corner.
They stopped.
Maya pressed herself against the door, trying to hide her head from view. A moment later they started again, and within a few paces Maya could tell they were going in the direction of the lift.
She cautiously tipped her head forward, stealing a glance at the suited, booted Estarian walking away from them. She waited, watching intently for his face as he rounded the corner. She caught a glimpse, and while she didn’t know the person, she did recognize him from the initial briefing. He had been one of the key personnel on the dais at the front of the room, introduced to them as someone who was in charge.
She couldn’t for the life of her remember his name.
She could sense Sean moving from his hiding spot and glanced over. He held one finger to his lips, and paused his own movement, listening. Maya held her breath, not daring to move.
After a few more seconds Sean started moving, relaxing a little. “Okay. He’s gone,” he said softly.
Maya pulled up her holo.
His eyes fixed on her holo. “What are you doing?” he asked.
Maya scrambled between screens. “If I can figure out who he is, I might be able to simulate his access codes and get us in the door.”
Sean narrowed his eyes. “Did you get a look at him?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I just can’t remember his name. He was on the platform for the briefing.”
“Describe him,” Sean told her.
Maya looked up into the top of her eye sockets. “Estarian. Male. Late forties. Large nose, but slightly drawn face.”
“Max Pike,” Sean said quickly.
Maya cocked her head.
Sean grinned. “I’ve gotten good at names and faces over the years. Plus, there is a training course the Federation has to help you,” he said, looking at her as if she should have taken it already.
Maya smiled and returned to fiddling with her holo. “Ah yeah, that and the cyborg implants,” she said teasingly.
Sean grinned. “Alright girlee,” he said cajoling her, “you actually think you can get us in?”
She tipped her head from side to side. “Dunno yet. I can try. But it might trigger all kinds of alarms.”
Sean sighed flatly. “Nothing is ever easy without an AI around.”
She glanced up at him. “What about ADAM? Do you think he could help?”
Sean opened his holo. “Probably. Lemme see if he’s available.” He poked a message, and one was returned almost straight away.
“What do you need?” he asked Maya.
She grabbed at his wrist and started communicating with ADAM directly.
Sean looked around, straining to hear in case there was any activity around that they might need to react to. “Nearly there?” he pressed after a long minute, starting to feel like, under any other circumstances, he might not mind a female taking control of his holo that close and personal.
“Uh huh,” she mumbled. “Let’s go.” She poked the screen again, and then closed it. “I need you nearby to pull the code over.”
Sean followed her. “ADAM just wrote you a patch?” he queried, skeptically.
She grunted the affirmative and continued down the white corridor where their mysterious access point lay.
Sean shook his head. “Here goes nothing then,” he said, taking one last glance around and following her.
Approaching the doors, Maya checked for cameras or sensors, hoping that something like that would light up on her schematics. She glanced down at her own holo and for the access she had. It all looked clean.
“Wrist!” She demanded, commandingly, holding her hand out for Sean to oblige.
Obediently, he complied and she pulled up the code she needed. Then, hurriedly, she poked around on the access panel, holding down key combos that she read off Sean’s device, presumably also from ADAM.
“Uploading,” she whispered.
There was a faint beep on the panel and she typed in 1234, and pressed enter. The door clicked open.
Without a hint of hesitation she pressed forward on it and headed through, Sean following quickly in her wake.
Once inside the darkness was illuminated in sequence, as lights came on down the length of the passage in front of them. “This is a lot of area to not have on the official schematics,” she commented.
Sean whistled quietly between his teeth. “You’re not wrong,” he agreed.
The pair made their way down the corridor, moving as quickly as they could. There were doors on either side every now and again.
Maya’s eyes softened in dismay. “We can’t possibly search all of these,” she said, a hint of defeat in her voice.
Sean slowed to a walk, and then stopped. “We may not have to,” he said cryptically.
Maya turned and looked at him. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“Hang on,” he said. “Calibrating.”
Maya narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out what he was doing. She noticed he was looking at the wall and his eyes were moving slightly. “Hang on... you can see heat signatures? Like X-ray vision?” she pressed.
Sean smiled cockily. “One of the perks of being upgraded by the Federation,” he told her.
A moment later, he pointed. “I’ve got three warm bodies, over that way,” he indicated off in the direction of one of the rooms on the right.
Maya scanned the corridor. “But which door do we go through?”
Sean approached the one nearest him. “Try this one,” he said, pointing at the panel.
Maya poked at the numbers.
1234 enter.
The door swooshed open, allowing them to pass through. There was a light on over in the far corner, behind what looked like a lab of hardware and equipment.
Maya jogged forward, towards the yellow light. “That must be them,” she hissed quietly. Sean jogged after her.
They approached, finding a glass meeting room with three people locked inside. One of them came to the glass, recognizing that these people weren’t their captors.
She was Estarian. And she looked exhausted and bedraggled. They all did. Maya straight away recognized the old guy from his profile picture. That was Dr. Brahms. And the girl at the window was Lana Rey.
She glanced at Sean who joined her at the glass. “Who’s the other one?”
There was an Estarian girl, younger than Lana.
Sean shrugged.
Lana headed over to the door, pointing down at the access panel.
Maya punched in the code.
123-
Sean grabbed her hand. “Wait!” he told her.
She looked at him stunned.
Lana looked at him and then at Maya. She banged on the glass and then pointed at the door panel again.
Sean pulled Maya away. “We need to be smart about this,” he told her. “We let them out, and then what? They just come up to the upper decks? And then we’re no longer undercover, and they throw all five of us in there.”
Maya turned back to the keypad, and tried to get her hand free. “Not if we integrate and give them a story to tell the rest of the crew. Whoever is doing this can’t just disappear that many people,” she responded defiantly.
Sean wouldn’t release her hand. She looked at him, and then her hand, irritated.
Sean shook his head. “They can. And they will. And you’re assuming the rest of the crew isn’t in on this.”
Maya hesitated. She dropped her tone. “Could we play dumb?”
Sean shook his head, letting her go finally. “Getting through all their levels of security? I don’t think so.”
Maya called through the doorway to Lana. “Hey can you hear me?”
Lana nodded.
Maya explained the situation. “We can’t get you out. It’s not safe. For any of us. Are you hurt? Are any of you hurt?”
Lana shook her head.
“Okay, we know you’re here. We’ve been looking for you. Help is on the way. We know you’re Lana and that is Ainstel. Who is the girl with you?”
Lana glanced over at the girl who was deliberately shying away from the interaction, leaning on the wall, her back to the others.
“Her name is Anne,” Lana said, trying to be heard through the glass. Maya could just make out her words.
“Anne,” she repeated. “Who is she? Why is she with you?”
Lana shrugged. “She won’t talk to us. She says she’ll put us in more danger if she tells us.”
Maya nodded. “We can’t deal with this now,” she muttered to Sean. “We need to get out of here and get Molly to extract us all.”
Sean nodded.
Maya wanted to check one more thing. “Are they feeding you? Are you okay?”
Lana nodded.
“Okay,” Maya called through, pressing her face near to the crack in the door, but still allowing Lana to lip read her through the glass too. “We’re going to get help. Don’t let on that we’ve been here. Everything is going to be okay, alright?”
Lana nodded. Brahms had headed over and put a hand on Lana’s shoulder. He nodded his understanding too.
“Stay safe,” Maya instructed. “We’ll be back.”
She tore herself away from the window and together she and Sean made their way out. As quickly as they could.
Without speaking they moved back down the corridor and out, heading all the way back to level 1 and the common areas for personnel where they were meant to be.
When they arrived, Maya sat down on a sofa and pretended to pick up a magazine. “What the fuck?” she exclaimed under her breath.
Sean sat near her, looking around, pretending to be people watching. “Yeah,” Sean agreed. “Did you notice the equipment in that room, too?”
Maya continued to pretend to read, restricting her body language. “No,” she responded.
Sean looked out across the common area. “Big machinery. Easily our drilling equipment.”
“Uh huh,” she acknowledged. “Wanna send a message to Pieter? I guess we have solved some of the puzzle.”
“Yeah,” Sean concurred. “I’ll do that when I go to my bunk. The only other piece we need to sort out is who these guys are working for.”
Maya frowned, and then pretended the frown was something in the magazine she was looking at. She pulled it closer and pretended to be reading the archaic printed material that some media companies started putting out during some renaissance of twenty years ago. “The only person who must know about that is the boss guy. What did you call him? Max?”
Sean wiped his face with one hand and slid the other arm off the back of the sofa. “Yeah. He’s going to be harder to crack,” he admitted. “Not like you can just start chatting with him over a beer and ask him if he’s ever kidnapped anyone. And he’s unlikely to offer it up.”
Maya nodded discreetly. “So what do we do?”
Sean glanced around the common area. “I dunno. Lemme think about it and I’ll let you know.”
He leaned forward, readying to get up. “I’ll ping Pieter. But you need to go get some rest. I’ll be in touch soon. Good job.”
Maya turned the page on the printed material. “You too,” she said quietly.
Sean got up and wandered out of the common area.
Aboard the Flutningsaðili, Level 2
Sean found his way back to his shared quarters. It had been weeks now and still the maze of identical corridors made it difficult for any normal person to navigate around.
Thankfully, he’d noticed various numbers placed on corridors or labeling facility points, like vents and electrical boxes, and used them to recognize whether or not he was in the right area.
He stepped into the shoebox of a room and paused while the dim lights came up and the door slid closed behind him. His roommate, Tallus, was elsewhere. Probably still working.
He glanced down at the smooth surface of the floor and then his boots, and sat down on the bottom bunk to take them off. Boots were essential around the ship. Apart from everything being hard exposed metal surfaces, most of the walkways and indeed unfurnished corridors were little more than grated grids of metal. Grids that should Paige show up with her high heel shoes on, she would rapidly find herself confined to briefing rooms for the entire trip.
He sighed, and started undoing the electromagnetic clasps, one by one. Then he hit his quantum bead with a double tap to hail Pieter. Or Paige. Or whomever was listening.
A moment later the audio connected in his implant.
“Greetings of the night upon you,” came Pieter’s overly exuberant voice.
Sean grunted. “Sounds like you’re bored shitless, mate.”
Pieter’s voice came back through his ear. “How could you tell?”
Sean grinned to himself. “Practice,” he told him. “So, I have news. We’ve located the two kidnapped victims, and found that in fact there are three of them. The two we know about, then a girl called Anne. Also Estarian.”
Pieter sounded like he was scurrying and scuffling on the other end of the line.
Sean tilted his head, listening hard. “You okay, mate?”
“Yeah, I…” there was some more scuffling. “It’s okay. I just slipped off my chair. All good now.”
Sean chuckled quietly to himself, not wanting the overly-sensitive computer tech to think he was laughing at him. Or for anyone to overhear him have a conversation with himself.
He pressed on with the intel transfer. “I think we’ve also located the equipment too. In the same section of the ship. ADAM helped Maya get access so he’ll be able to tell you the area.”
Pieter was making active listening sounds and making a note.
“We need a plan,” Sean told him. “We could take the hostages from their holding room, but then we’d have nowhere to go with them. We’d blow our cover and have no way off the ship.”
Pieter frowned. “Okay. So you’re ready for extraction then?”
Sean was quiet for a moment. “We haven’t found out anything about who is in on this. Who is responsible. At either end of the chain.”
Pieter scratched his head. “I think this conversation suddenly went way above my decision level,” he decided. “Want me to talk to Molly and come back to you?”
Sean scratched at his day-old stubble. “Sure. Have a word and maybe ping me in a short while. I’m going to get some rack time and I can probably speak privately for the next few hours.”
“Great,” Pieter responded, his voice sounding relieved. “I’ll give you a click in your implant when we’re ready and you can hit your bead to confirm we can connect.”
Sean stretched his arms out in front of him and leaned forward ready to make a move. “Okay. Sounds good. Talk soon.”
The line went dead.
Sean hauled his cyborg ass to his feet and looked around for his shower gear. Locating it, he grabbed a towel, and slipped on his room shoes, which were just about protection enough from the hard-grated floor in the corridor, and wandered out in the direction of the shower facilities.
Staðall University, Senior Common Room
Molly, Gareth and Von sat around the outside table, their teas and mochas nearly done. The courtyard behind the Senior Common Room was a little sark-trap, which got quite a bit of light at that time in the day. It was also a favorite spot for those who wanted to kick back and chill for a short while between the rigorous studying and marking of papers. Like a place of respite.
Right now it was deserted, apart from the three of them, allowing them to talk freely.
“I think we have a way forward,” Molly said, looking up from the financial model they’d been working on.
Gareth nodded his agreement. “Yes. If I can get the trust to agree on this number here,” he said pointing at the spreadsheet, “it all falls into place.” He peered up at Molly. “Leave it with me,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “I’ll get onto that this afternoon as soon as we’re done here.”
Von leaned on the table, smiling satisfied. “I think this is the easiest negotiation I’ve ever been involved in!” she remarked.
Molly grinned. “Kinda straightforward when we’re all after a shared goal.”
“Indeed,” Von commented. “Although, I suspect we’ll face continued resistance from the existing institutions. Unfortunately, they’ll likely find this whole concept quite threatening.”
Gareth’s eye saddened a little as he nodded his agreement.
Just then Molly’s holo started buzzing.
It’s Pieter, Oz informed her. It’s important.
“Excuse me, one moment,” she said to her companions. She got up from the table and walked away a few paces amongst the empty tables in the little courtyard.
“Hello,” she said, answering her holo.
It was Pieter’s voice. He sounded anxious.
“Molly. It’s Pieter. I’ve just had word from Sean. They’ve found the scientists. We could do with some direction on next steps. They’re not in immediate danger but—”
Molly interrupted. “I understand. I’ll be on my way right away. You can fill me in in the pod. Gimme a couple of minutes and I’ll call you back.”
Pieter’s voice sounded a little less strained when he heard that. “Okay, great. I’ll stand by.”
Moments later, Molly had excused herself from her new friends and was striding out into the quad to rendezvous with her pod, which whipped down with speed. She hopped in, and then the pod disappeared up beyond the stratosphere.
Chapter 14
Gaitune-67, Hangar Deck
Molly hopped out of her pod as soon as the door was open enough, and half walked, half ran across the hangar deck towards the upstairs conference room where Pieter was set up.
Is Joel on his way?
Already there.
And Paige?
On her way in.
Moments later, Molly burst into the room to find Joel and Pieter sitting in front of the telemetry screens.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
Joel nodded.
Pieter twisted round in his seat, his hair a little more unkempt than usual. “They’re okay. Not in any danger. They’ve found the hostages and now we need to decide what to do next,” he said recapping, the conversation they’d had in her pod ride back, making sure everyone was on the same page.
Paige appeared in the doorway and silently headed in and took a seat on the other side of the conference table.
“Okay,” Molly said, composing herself. “Let’s see if we can connect with Sean then.”
Pieter sent a click, and received two clicks back. He connected the audio. “We’re live with Sean’s implant.”
Molly had found a seat and sat down. “Sean?” she said.
Sean’s half-asleep voice grated onto the call. “Yeah,” he mustered.
Molly’s manner was serious and businesslike. “I understand you have the hostages and the kit, but no intel on who is behind it?”
Sean’s voice was a little muffled. “Yeah. We think the head guy on the ship is involved. Max Pike. Only coz we saw him visiting the hostages. But beyond that we’ve no idea.”
Molly frowned. “What condition are the hostages in?” she asked.
Sean sighed a little. “They seem okay, considering. At least physically. Though I don’t know how well they’re being treated. They didn’t look like they were being abused other than being locked up in a tiny room.”
Molly bobbed her head. “Any leads that we can chase down that may help?”
Sean was quiet for a moment. “I suppose you could look into Pike. Max Pike. And any communications he’s been having. He may have been in touch with either the client or someone involved even while we’ve been on board.”
Molly nodded. “Sure. Anything else out of the ordinary?”
“Erm... only that Brock seems to be working harder than he ever has before.”
Paige glanced up at them. “He’s in the kitchens, isn’t he?”
Sean must have heard her. “Yeah. I think he’s pissed about all the long hours and manual work he’s having to do.”
Paige’s eyes drooped in sympathy for him.
Molly tried to keep them on track. “So, are you ready for us to extract?”
“I’m not sure,” Sean confessed. “I mean, we’ve only completed half of the mission. We’ve located the hostages, but we still need to find a way to get them out safely. Even if you extracted us, there will be resistance here. They have several armed security personnel. They could kill anyone — us, the hostages, anyone who boards.”
Molly wiped her face with her hands. “Will more time help?”
Sean paused again. “I think probably yes. At the very least we can find a way to get us all to a safe place. And then even try and find out a bit more about who might be behind this.
Molly pursed her lips and nodded. “Okay. Well we’ll do some digging into this Max fella and see if we can turn up anything from this end. Continue with the regular check-ins, and we’ll reevaluate in a few days.”
Sean’s voice was still muffled. “Okay, sure,” he said, half whispering. “It’s a deal.”
Molly had cocked her head. “Sean?” she asked. “Are you okay?”
Sean sounded puzzled. “Yeah. Why?”
“Your voice sounds different.”
Sean paused for a second, and then there sounded like a ruffling on his end. “Oh. I’m doing a head stand while I’m talking to you.”
Joel slapped his hand over his mouth.
Pieter closed his eyes, tightly, screwing up his face, laughing silently and trying to keep it together.
Molly remained expressionless. “Sean? Whatever for?”
His voice sounded like he was straining now. “It helps with the shitty antigrav on these things. Keeps the circulation in the brain working.”
Molly frowned, evaluating the science behind his explanation. “Ah. Okay,” she said simply. “We’ll leave you to it then. Stay safe.”
“Righty-ho,” he responded. “Talk soon.”
Molly made a slicing movement at her neck with her flattened fingers and Pieter killed the audio link.
Joel and Pieter continued to laugh, but more vocally now that the line was cut.
Paige joined in giggling. “I wondered why he sounded so odd.” After a moment she cocked her head. “Do you think it’s a cyborg thing? Or a real thing about antigrav?”
Pieter shook his head. “I’ve never heard of anything like that before. It might be something he’s picked up in the Federation.”
Molly tilted her head slightly. “Like a disease? Or a habit?” she asked, her face still deadpan.
Joel sniggered suddenly uncontrollably. “Remind me to ask him when he gets his ass back here!”
Aboard the Flutningsaðili, Level 5, Medical bay
“Okay, you’re all set,” Jayne said, putting the little bandage over where she had just given Max a jab.
Max put his finger over the bandage making sure it was secure. “Thank you, Dr. Jayne,” he said, slipping off the examination couch.
Jayne busied herself with tidying away the needle and containers of nutrient injections. “Come see me in a week for the booster, and then you’ll be good for another couple of weeks in artificial grav,” she told him.
There was a long pause as Max rolled down his sleeve and perched against the couch. “How are our newbies settling in?” he inquired casually.
Jayne looked up briefly and then put her eyes back on her instruments. “Adapting. I think. I’ve not really spoken to the one in the kitchen since we came on board. But I see the two girls and the older guy now and again in the mess hall. They seem to be doing okay.”
Max’s tone dropped to being a little more serious. “Anything we should be aware of?”
Jayne hesitated. “I’m not sure,” she answered slowly and quietly. “The girl. The young one. She was asking about who the client was the other day.”
Max’s gaze bore into her head from across the room. “And what did you tell her?”
Jayne shrugged. “Nothing. Just that we have lots of clients.”
“Anything else?” he pushed.
Jayne thought quickly. “Well, I think I overheard her and the older guy in the mess hall mention something about drilling equipment.”
Max stood upright. “That doesn’t sound good.”
Jayne bobbed her head. “No idea why they’d be talking about it, though.”
Max folded his arms, and stroked his face with one hand. “Hmm. I heard he had found some kind of anomaly with the paperwork too. He was all for checking it out by going down there, until Mark put him off.”
Jayne suddenly spun round. “Max. Why is it so important that no one knows what we’re shipping? I don’t understand what the big deal is.”
Max glowered. “The big deal is that it’s what our clients pay us for. Discretion. We don’t know how this affects their business. Or the negotiations they might be involved in. We don’t know what kind of impact this knowledge could have in the wrong hands.”
Jayne had put one hand on her hip, and was now staring back at Max defensively. “So what, we just work hard to make sure no one finds out about it?”
“Yes. Yes, we do,” he told her definitively. “That is why we are paid the big bucks, over any other freight service.”
Jayne sighed, and turned back to what she had been doing. “Okay, fine. But I just don’t have any idea how they’re finding this stuff out.”
Max started walking across the treatment room to the door. “They must have come looking for it,” he theorized. “I suspect, Dr. Jayne, we have some spies in our midst.”
Jayne turned to follow his movement, the stress and concern showing around her eyes. “What do you want me to do?”
Max smiled. “Kill them.”
Jayne looked horrified.
“Just kidding!” he said, laughing confidently.
Jayne started laughing too, relieved. Mostly.
“I’ll do it,” he added seriously.
Then he started laughing. “Kidding!”
Jayne pointed at him. “You got me!” she said waving a tongue depressor she had picked up off the side. Though she was laughing on the outside, something niggled at her amygdala. She didn’t entirely feel safe around this man, and she didn’t know why. Why did she feel like maybe he wasn’t joking about killing these people?
Max continued laughing his fake laugh as he strode out of the med bay. The door swooshed closed behind him, and Jayne’s laughing died immediately.
She sat down in a nearby swivel chair and rummaged in the drawer to her right. Finding what she needed, she pulled it out and unclipped the cap. She took the device up to her mouth and inhaled a drag of the substance, savoring it entering her lungs and her blood stream.
* * *
Max immediately pulled up a holo call as he strode down the corridor. “Yep. It’s me. Yes, I think it’s time to round them up. The younger one, Marissa, I think she told us her name was. And Rex, in accounting.”
He listened to the person on the other end of the call as he walked. “Yes, I’ll meet you down there. Do it quietly and discreetly. No need to alert the crew or any friends they have that we’re onto them.”
Max clicked off the comm and made his way up to the fourth floor. He approached the same stark white corridor as he’d walked many a time already over the last weeks. And, in fact, on many trips before this, for various reasons. He keyed in his ID code, and let the device scan his retina, and then passed through the heavy door into the previously secret and restricted area.
He strode through the darkened warehouse, the motion-activated lights coming on as he walked. “Looks like you’ll be having some new company soon,” he called out as he approached the glass-fronted meeting room where he had his hostages locked up.
The girl that was the most communicative came to the window. “You won’t get away with this, you asshole! People will know we’re missing. You’ll be discovered. And I’ll be there when they put you to death for kidnapping on Teshov.”
Max looked down at his nails and leaned against a desk that had a few chairs piled upside down on it. “My, my, my… what little you know about Teshov. Death sentences are only handed out to the general populous to keep them under control and afraid.”
He glanced casually up at her. “I wouldn’t fall into that category. I’m far too valuable to the people who actually have the power out there. And on Estaria, for that matter.”
The girl’s eyes flared in furry. “You won’t get away with this,” she shouted, her voice straining painfully. The older man, Dr. Brahms came up behind her and placed a hand gently on her shoulder. She seemed to calm instantly, understanding that her position was futile. The older scientist led her back away from the window and sat her down at one of the desks with her back to their captor.
Just then lights started coming on again, guiding the path for the newcomers. There were scuffed, and uneven steps.
And boots.
Lots of boots.
A few moments later the party appeared from between the stacks of equipment and boxes, brandishing their weapons and their two prisoners in cuffs.
“Well, I suppose this is one way to meet the boss to vent your concerns,” Max cooed as the two humans looked up at him.
They remained silent.
He continued. “I suppose you’re going to deny any knowledge of what’s going on here.”
Sean called over to Maya. “Don’t respond. To anything,” he told her.
Maya nodded.
“Rex, is it?” Max asked, wandering over to him. “Fancy yourself as a hero, do you?”
Sean looked straight ahead.
Max’s eyes narrowed as he looked Rex up and down. “Hmm. Do I detect military training in that disciplined defiance?”
Sean ignored him.
Max kept rambling, walking over to the glass window of the meeting room. “Well, you see the problem is, if I even suspect that you might know everything, then you’re a liability. And must be treated as such. But if I knew that you knew nothing, then…”
Sean scoffed. “You say that after showing us that you’re holding three hostages down here?”
“Ah, he does speak!” Pike turned back to him, looking the strongly built human up and down. “Tell me,” he questioned after a moment, “you’re not entirely human, are you?”
Sean didn’t respond again.
“No matter,” Max retorted, signaling to his guards. “You can rot in here until our scheduled garbage dump. And then you can have a trip out into the space. Get up close and personal with the vacuum.”
Max paused, expecting one of them to crack and start blurting out what they knew.
Neither said anything.
Max waved for them to be put into the glass room and started to walk away. “Oh, and by the way, we’ll be rounding up your friends on board and bringing them to join you too. Just in case you were worried you would miss them.”
Sean stood glaring from the other side of the glass, and Maya walked into the room, putting her hands behind her head in frustration, pacing in a small area as the door was closed and locked behind them.
Max gestured for the security detail to clear the area, and then followed them out.
Gaitune-67, Carl Milberg’s residence
“Yo yo! How you doing man?” Carl Milberg sat down as the call connected.
“Good, thanks,” came the reply over Carl’s audio implant.
Carl spun around on his anti-grav chair in his home office. “So, are we ready to reroute?” he asked as casually as if they were talking about sport, and not illegally rerouting a freight ship.
“We are,” Pike replied on the other end of the line. “Go ahead.”
Carl poked at his holo and then flicked over to another screen. “Okay, sending new coordinates and flight plan. As far as they know you’re on the existing flight plan. This way though you’ll arrive a day early, giving your client time to pick up their merchandise before any inspectors are expecting to see you.”
Max made sure he’d received the new flight path data on his holo. “Great. Thanks Carl,” he replied once he confirmed it was received.
Max hesitated for a moment. “One other thing,” he started. “We’ve had to take two new personnel offline. Suspect they might be corporate spies.”
Carl sighed. “Okay. We’ll have to tighten up the vetting process. Maybe look at bringing it in-house if those folks over there can’t get their shit together. That’s the second lot in as many shipments.”
Max’s voice was serious. “Yeah. It’s a concern. Especially with everything that is on the line.”
Carl shifted his tone to match the seriousness of Max’s. He continued to swivel idly in his chair though. “You don’t need to tell me. I’ll look into it. Want me to look into these guys while I’m at it?”
Max shook his head. “No. No need. They’ll not be around much longer.”
Carl chuckled in a single exhale of breath. “Lemme guess. You’re taking out the trash?”
Max’s voice lightened a little. “You know me so well, Carl Milberg …”
“I do,” Carl answered. “I know where all the bodies are buried,” he joked.
Max’s voice had a slight edge to it. “As do I, Carl, my friend. As do I.”
Carl felt awkward for a second. “So. Erm. Well, good luck with the trash disposal and... the unloading when you get there. Gimme a shout next time you’re passing this way.”
“Sure. Will do,” Max replied, his professional-casual voice resuming. “We’ll do a beer …”
“Plan!” Carl confirmed, thankful he didn’t have to do these calls with video. It would be much harder to hide how he really felt about the guy. “Bye for now, then,” he concluded.
The call ended, and Carl continued to swivel in his chair for another few seconds before closing his screens down and pulling up the next thing.
Just then then he heard the airlock activating and realized he only had a few minutes of productive work time left. He whizzed through his communications and responded to everything that needed attending to urgently. He closed down the screen just as he heard footsteps coming down the hallway to the office door.
“Hi honey,” Paige called as she breezed on past en route to the kitchen. “You ready for a glass of something?”
Carl smiled and swiveled around, getting up from his chair and padding through to meet her. “Would love something. I think we’ve still got a bottle of red open from last night.”
He heard the clattering of dishes and pans, and the fridge door opening. He stepped into the kitchen to see Paige already figuring out the most complex puzzle of the day: what to make for supper.
“So how was your day?” he asked, reaching over the central island to the bottle of red.
Paige sighed, straightening up and still looking at the contents of the fridge. “It was okay. Hard work. Lot’s going on. Yours?”
Carl grabbed a couple of glasses from a shelf behind him and popped them on the side and started pouring the wine. “It was okay. Another shipment in progress, so just keeping an eye on things,” he told her.
“How do you feel about mac and cheese, with broccoli on the side?” Paige asked, glancing over at him.
Carl wandered over with a glass of wine for her. “Sounds delightful,” he said, passing her the glass and returning to the stool at the island and settling himself down.
Aboard the Flutningsaðili, Level 2, Mess Hall
Jack strode into the dining area glancing around. She spotted Brock sitting with Auggie at the end of a long table. His expression was one of a broken man.
She marched over. “Hey Tallus. Auggie,” she said nodding at the second broken-looking soul. “You guys alright?”
Brock looked up. “Yeah. Just. I never thought that working in a kitchen could be so exhausting.”
Jack nodded sympathetically, but continued to glance around the hall as they talked.
“What’s up?” Brock asked, noticing her distraction.
Jack looked at the seat next to Auggie, and then stepped round to it. She sat down and leaned in, lowering her voice. “It’s Marissa. And Rex,” she said, glancing sideways at Auggie, trying to be discrete. “I’ve not seen either of them for a while. Have you?”
Brock shook his head. He had his arm on the table, his fork hanging over his food. He tipped his fork a little in Auggie’s direction asking him the same question.
Auggie shook his head.
Jack’s eyes carried an intensity and seriousness that Brock recognized as being unusual. “You want some help looking for them?”
Jack glanced at Auggie, and Brock immediately understood exactly what her reservation was. “No. No. I’m sure they’re fine,” she said, her tone becoming lighter and more casual. “I mean, where would they go on a ship in the middle of nowhere,” she laughed.
Brock bobbed his head. “Yeah. Probably snuck off somewhere to chill out or something,” he said.
“Yeah. I don’t blame them,” Jack agreed standing up. “I’ll leave you to finish eating,” she said.
Brock understood the words to mean finish eating and make an exit that doesn’t look suspicious.
He nodded and she turned to leave. Just then Jayne appeared at the table with a tray of food. “Greetings, all,” she said, looking at the boys and then at Jack. “You not eating?” she asked.
Jack shook her head. “Already ate. You haven’t seen Marissa or Rex anywhere have you?” she asked.
Jayne hesitated for a moment. “No. No. I haven’t. Why?”
Jack shrugged. “Just wanted to see if they were around to have a drink is all.”
Jayne sat down next to Brock and settled in to eat. “Hmm. If I see them…”
“Great. Thanks!” Jack said as she waved, and then disappeared out of the hall.
Jayne watched her leave, a glint of suspicion in her eye as she picked up her fork to eat.
Chapter 15
Flutningsaðili, Floor 4, Restricted Access Area
Maya sat down at the table with the other three hostages. Sean continued to pace.
“Why aren’t they calling through?” she asked trying to keep the anxiety out of her voice more for the benefit of the others. Her eyes traced Sean’s movements, watching him prowl like a trapped tiger.
“Probably a glitch in the tech,” he responded. “No idea how this shit works …”
Suddenly his facial expression changed. “They’re connecting,” he said, nodding at Maya.
Maya’s face relaxed a little, and the three others looked from her to Sean and back to her again, hoping for an inkling of what was going on.
Sean put his hands on his hips and looked off across the room. “Hi, Pieter? Things have taken a turn over here,” he started explaining. “Maya and I have been rumbled. They don’t know how much we know, but they’ve put us in with the scientists, and they’re going to eject us into space at their next scheduled trash dump.”
“Shit,” Pieter hissed under his breath.
Sean continued to look off across the tiny glass room. “Yeah, mate, I was hoping for something a little more useful than that.”
“H-h-h-h-h-hang on. Let me call Molly,” Pieter stammered. There was a shuffling on the other end of the line, and a moment later Pieter’s voice returned. “She’s on her way. Will be here in a moment. Are any of you injured?” Pieter asked.
“No,” Sean’s voice came back. “We’re okay at the moment.”
“Hang on, I hear Molly’s footsteps. She’s here,” Pieter told him.
A moment later Sean could hear Molly’s voice on the line. “Sean, what do you need?”
Sean glanced at Maya, who was starting to look scared. “We’re ready for an extraction,” he said calmly, trying to make it sound that they were in more control of the situation so that Maya and the others wouldn’t be too nervous.
Maya could almost imagine he was calling for a car to pick them up from a shopping trip.
Molly was to the point. “Okay. We’re coming for you. Do we have any idea how long you’ve got?”
Sean shook his head. “No idea. Could be minutes, could be hours or days.”
Paige and Joel arrived at the conference room and stepped inside, quietly taking seats at the table so as not to interrupt.
Molly nodded. “Okay. Oz is looking into the garbage dumping on the ship. Since ADAM was already in the system with Maya’s patch, he has some access, but it’s going to take a little time to work it.”
Sean exhaled. “Okay. Cool.”
Molly, there’s something that may be useful.
Oh?
Yeah it seems that there have been a few communications between the ship and Gaitune.
From here?
No. Not from us. Someone else on Gaitune. A couple of kilometers away.
Who?
Hang on.
Oz’s voice paused, then the intercom sparked up again. “Carl Milberg’s place.”
Molly’s eyes snapped on Paige.
Paige‘s mouth dropped. A stunned silence filled the room. After a moment Paige’s voice found its way through her mouth. “Shipping,” she said making the connection.
Molly nodded. “Oz, see what you can find out. Get Crash to start up the Empress. We’ll be heading out shortly. Paige and I just need to pay Carl a visit. Sean,” she said, lifting her voice a little so he would hear her clearly. “Hang in there. We’re coming for you. Stay alive.”
Sean nodded. “Will do, boss.” He glanced over at Maya as he spoke. “See you shortly. Keep us posted about ETAs, eh?”
Molly was already half way through the door. “Sure thing. Oz and Pieter will keep in touch.”
The line disconnected, leaving Sean staring now into space, feeling a little more nervous than he had been just seconds before when the connection was live.
He glanced over at Maya again. “They’re on their way. But we need to figure out if there is a way out of here, just in case.”
He wandered over to the table where the others were sitting quietly, bewildered by the unconventional rescue party. “How about you tell us everything you know so we can work on a plan to keep us all alive until our friends get here?” he suggested, looking into the fearful faces.
Aboard the Flutningsaðili, Level 2, Mess Hall
Brock left the mess hall, scuttling from one common area to another, looking for Jack.
He felt sure she wouldn’t have gone far if they needed to powwow on this. He poked his head into the room that was used as a games room. It was noisy, with people playing computer games and simulations. She wasn’t in there. He stepped out into the corridor again.
Just then, he heard a click in his implant.
Shit. Can’t do this here, he thought to himself.
He marched down the corridor, looking for somewhere he might have some privacy to speak out loud. He found what he thought was a storage cupboard. He’d seen the cleaning crew use it before. He tried the key pad and it slid right open.
He slipped inside. A dim light came on, and the door closed behind him. The closet was about four feet by four feet, and fortunately there was no one else there.
He double clicked him quantum pearl and waited.
“Hey,” he heard Pieter’s voice.
“Hey yourself,” Brock responded, a grin spreading across his face at the sound of a familiar voice. “What’s happening? We can’t find Sean and Maya, and I think I’ve lost Jack.”
Just then the closet door opened. Brock’s heart jumped into his mouth.
He scrambled to look at whatever was on the shelf so he could look like he was in here collecting supplies.
“Hey,” whispered Jack, stepping inside and allowing the door to close behind him.
Brock breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s okay. I’ve got Jack,” he told Pieter.
Pieter’s voice came through again. “Ah, well that’s good news. Saves me trying to get you each separately. Lemme just loop her in, too. Okay, we’re good. She should hear me too now.”
Jack nodded. “I hear you, Pieter.”
“Good,” Pieter continued. “Okay, so it seems that Sean and Maya have been captured. They found the kidnap victims, three in total, and they’re being held in the same place. We’ve been in touch with Sean, and we’re on our way to extract you. Problem is, they could be ejected at any time. We just don’t know. So we need you two to one, not get caught too. And two, see if there is anything you can do to get these guys free.”
Brock’s eyes widened. “No small order then,” he remarked with a little irony in his voice.
Pieter’s voice was sympathetic. “I know. I’m with you. It’s intense. I’m sorry you’re going through this.”
Brock nodded. “It’s okay. Any clue on how to do any of that?”
“Yeah,” Pieter responded. “Turns out that before they got caught, Maya and Sean had ADAM create a patch for some off-limits area, to get them in. The code for bypassing the retinal scan and everything is 1234 Enter.”
Brock nodded. “1234 Enter,” he repeated, looking at Jack. Jack nodded, remembering the code too.
“Oz is working on figuring out their location on the ship. He’ll have that to you soon. We’re factoring in your relative positions based on your quantum beads. Should have an answer and a map soon.”
Brock nodded. “But what about being seen accessing this secret area. This place has camera coverage everywhere.”
Oz interjected. “Hi Jack. Brock. Oz here. It looks like Maya already implanted a patch to take the cameras from recording in places all randomly, but also where she wants to be. Pretty smart. It means that if they were to notice, they wouldn’t just see it happening at the restricted access area. So we can use that patch to help you, once we’ve nailed your route.”
Jack wiped a hand over her mouth, thinking. “We have another problem, Oz. Say we go ahead and get those guys out of wherever they are. Then what? We’re on a ship with nowhere to go.”
There was a silence on the line.
Brock leaned his head back against a shelf for a moment. “You know, we could see if there are any ships that we can use to get out of here.”
Jack looked at him, her eyes gradually brightening. “Yes!” she agreed. “And a freighter has limited weapons. Mostly just for blasting rocks, and they have a restricted range to what, a few kilometers?” she guessed.
Brock nodded. “Yeah. About that. But all they’re likely to have will be something for unloading cargo at best, and then trying to out run them in what is essentially a tractor.”
Jack pulled her lips to one side. “Uh huh,” she answered.
Brock bobbed his head. “Well, I guess that’s it then. At least it will have more maneuverability than this beast, so we can head back in the direction of Estaria and wait for the Empress to scoop us up. It will take them hours to turn this thing around, so that’s our best bet.”
Jack nodded and shifted her weight, moving back towards the door. “Okay, it’s a plan. Not an airtight plan by any stretch of the imagination. But better than sitting around waiting for them to execute Sean and Maya.”
Pieter cut in. “In the meantime, Molly is on her way to you soon, and we’ll be in touch with updates. Hang in there. We’re coming for you. All of you. I’ll let Sean and Maya know what’s happening.”
The line clicked off.
Brock and Jack stood in the half light of the closet. Brock suddenly got a twinkle in his eye. “You know, this is one of those times that someday in the future we’re going to laugh about, and tell stories to rookies about tight spots that we got out of.”
Jack smiled. “Yeah. I’m sure you’re right. Okay. You wanna try stealing us some transport? And I’ll find the restricted area and grab the others as soon as we get their location through?”
Brock nodded. “Sure thing. Stay in touch on holo message only. Better than getting overheard.”
Jack turned to leave. “Defo,” she agreed. “Count to ten before you follow me out,” she said, and then she was gone.
Gaitune-67, Carl Milberg’s residence
Molly rang the bell. Paige nudged her. “I have a key,” she told her sheepishly.
Molly shook her head. “It’s okay. This is an official visit. I want him to come and invite us in.” She leaned on the bell again.
Nothing sounded on the outside, but since it lit up she assumed it was ringing inside.
Several moments later there was movement on the other side of the airlock. Once Carl recognized them through the two doors he waved at Paige, and beckoned them in, hitting the access switch on the other side.
The airlock door clicked and started to slide open in its circular swing. The two women stepped in, and it closed behind them, then normalized the pressure.
A moment later the other door swung open, allowing them through into the second semicircular chamber. Once they were clear, the door slid back, and the pressure normalized and the door into the house opened.
Carl had wandered away as they went through the airlock rigmarole. Molly looked left, then right.
“Through here,” Carl called from the right. “Just putting the kettle on. You ready for a brew?” he asked.
Molly headed down the hallway following the sound of his voice. Paige followed, feeling more awkward about this than she would have guessed originally.
“We’re not here for a social call, Mr. Milberg,” Molly started as she stepped into the kitchen. “I’m afraid we’ve intercepted your communications with Max Pike, and we have reason to believe that you are involved in a criminal operation involving the kidnapping of a number of scientists as well as two of our crew members at this point.”
Carl stopped what he was doing with the cups and turned around to face the two women. He’d heard a lot about Molly from Paige, but never had she described her as quite this formidable.
Mind, she perhaps didn’t relay any tales where her boss was in a situation where her team had been captured and about to be killed.
Carl looked over at them with a shocked expression, a tea bag in his hand. “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he told her.
“Cut the crap,” Molly responded without missing a beat. “We’ve traced communications to here. You’re in the shipping business, are you not?”
Milberg nodded once, and turned back around, placing the tea bag in a cup. He continued to make tea. “I am. Paige knows I am.”
Paige took a step forward and placed her hands on the counter top island separating them. “I also know you have covert shipping operations. Just the kind of operations that would be facilitating things like illegal fracking of an inhabited planet.”
Carl spun back around, his eyes defensive. “Hey, look. There are lots of people, lots of organizations that require covert shipping. Governments for one. If the Oggs are arming the Teshovians, or the Leath are doing deals with the Yollins under the radar, they pay for discretion. Heck, for all I know you people have used my services for bringing equipment onto this rock!”
He paused, then went back to the tea, muttering under his breath. “Not that I’ve ever been told anything about what you do for a living over there,” he added poignantly.
Molly glanced at Paige, who was flushing a little on her chest. She sensed this was an issue in their relationship. “Sounds like you’ve both been keeping secrets,” Molly commented. “The point is, we need to know everything you do about this ship in order to get our crew and the kidnapped scientists back safe and sound. You need to make this right. Transporting kidnapped victims... you’ll be going away for a long time. You’ll lose everything.”
Carl had started pouring the tea.
Molly paused, and lowered her tone a little. “Can we count on your help?”
Carl paused pouring, thinking for a moment. Molly sensed his sudden anxiety, even though his back was turned.
Carl resumed pouring out the third cup. “Yes. Of course,” he responded after a moment, keeping his tone even. “In fact, I think there is a way for everyone to get what they need out of this.”
He carried the tea over to the island and handed them out, then returned for his own. He waved for them to sit down, and pulled out a stool for himself on the other side of the counter. “I’m assuming that by helping you I will absolve myself of any and all charges with you and whomever you bring into this?”
Molly took the tea, and toyed with it on the surface of the counter. “It really depends on how helpful you are. We want the safe return of our people and the victims. If we can achieve that, you won’t be penalized.”
Molly felt Paige relax a little, though she didn’t turn to look.
Carl nodded. “Okay,” he said, slurping his tea. He placed the mug down. “There are a few things you should know. Firstly, we’ve just altered the flight path. If you go after them now, they won’t be where you think they will be.”
Molly started to ask a question, and Carl waved his hand. “I’ll get you the coordinates and the path details,” he added dismissively. “The other thing is,” Carl continued, “if you’re in communication with your people who have been captured, you’ll be aware that he has armed guards on the ship. Security.”
Molly waited for a moment, studying his reactions. “What are you saying?” she asked.
Carl took another sip of tea. “I’m suggesting you need an intermediary to negotiate a truce. If you show up there, guns blazing, people are going to die. They have weapons. And mercenaries on board. Lots of them. There is no way you will be able to get your people out of there alive without some kind of negotiation.”
Molly turned her head slightly. “What do you suggest?” she asked.
Carl pushed his mug forward and wrapped both hands around it. “I’m going to propose he lets you take your people and leave him to continue with his shipment.”
Molly didn’t miss a beat. “My people, and the three hostages,” she demanded.
Carl leaned back on the stool a little, his face looking drawn. “I dunno if I can swing that. Remember, he answers to some very powerful clients.”
Molly held his gaze. “I’m taking the innocent people.”
Carl chuckled a fake laugh. “Ha. They’re not so innocent,” he told her.
Molly frowned. “What does that mean?”
Carl shrugged one shoulder. “Well, they wouldn’t be of interest to these people if they didn’t have expertise in certain areas, like the illegal fracking of populated planets. For instance. Hypothetically speaking, if that is what they are doing.”
Molly narrowed her eyes. “So you do know what they’re doing,” she remarked, reminding him that he had just incriminated himself. “I want the hostages, and my people. He can keep his equipment,” she pressed.
The discussion continued back and forth for another few minutes, during which it became evident that they were unaware of Brock and Jack’s involvement. He kept referring to her two people.
“Also, I have more than two people on that ship. And they’re trained by the best. Federation military. Not just Estarian.”
Carl swallowed nervously, and gathered his thoughts as his eyes studied the cup of tea. He sighed. “Okay. Lemme see what I can do,” he said getting up.
Molly watched him head out of the kitchen. “Where are you going?” she queried him.
He pointed out into the hall way. “Office. Need to make that call,” he said. “Unless you want to waste some more time and let your friends be ejected out into space?”
Molly shook her head. “Okay. Go ahead. Leave the door open. We’re listening,” she said, getting up off the stool.
He headed out and got settled to make the call.
Paige had left her tea, untouched, on the counter. “You’re not really going to let them keep that equipment that they’re going to use to destroy the planet and those inhabitants, are you?”
Molly’s face and tone were grave. “Right now,” she said in a low voice, “the immediate problem is to get our people to safety.”
Paige nodded solemnly, and followed Molly through to her boyfriend’s home office.
Carl had already set up the call and was waiting for Max to respond.
“Max. Hi. Me again. Yeah. I know. Sorry to pull you off what you were doing, but we have a small problem we need to iron out.”
Carl paused, listening to Max’s response.
“Yeah, so it turns out that we’ve been compromised.”
He paused.
“Let’s not worry about that for now, but I’m sitting here having tea with a nice young lady who is responsible for those people you’ve got on board. Yes, the spies. Except it’s not corporate espionage, I don’t think. It’s something much more serious that we don’t want to get involved in.”
He stopped again. Listening.
“Yes, yes, I understand that, but I think I’ve got a way for you to hold on to that and still make a delivery to the client.”
Carl took a deep breath. “I think I can persuade her just to take her people. All of them. There are others we don’t know about, and get them out of there... without getting any authorities involved.”
“How many more?” He repeated the question he had just heard, looking over at Molly and Paige. Molly shook her head.
“I don’t know,” he answered. “But she’ll take them all, and leave you be to deliver the shipment.”
He muted himself out, tapping his ear. Shaking his head, he mouthed over to Molly who was now leaning on the door frame. “Not having it.”
Molly stood upright again. “Okay. We’ll just have to take it by force. Location?”
Carl held up one finger.
Then he started turning the finger over as if he’s trying to hurry the guy speaking up.
He unmuted himself. “Max. You know me. You know I wouldn’t be suggesting this if there was another way out. I think this is your best bet. No one gets hurt.”
He paused again.
“Yeah. She has firearms. Lots of them. I don’t know what kind of outfit this is, but if she shows up even your boys are in trouble.”
“Okay. Okay. I’ll give her your location. Be civil. Hand the folks over, and then let them leave. That’s all you need to do.”
He sighed. “Okay. Yes, I’m sorry too. We’ll talk about that later on.”
Carl clicked off the holo connection and rocked to upright in his chair. “Okay. You have your deal. Your people, the hostages, and you leave quietly. He delivers his payload and you two never cross paths again.”
Molly nodded once. “Fine,” she agreed. “Okay, so the location?”
Carl pulled up another screen on his holo and poked through a few pages. Then he offered his holowrist over to her. Molly opened a bump screen and stepped over to him. They bumped holos, transferring the data.
“Are we good?” he asked, looking at her, as if they’d just negotiated the sale of a desk holo, or a car.
Molly flicked through the new flight data and tilted her head. She paused for a moment, as if listening, and then nodded at him. “We’re good,” she confirmed, and headed out.
Carl’s eyes fell to Paige, who was now leaning against the door frame. Molly walked past her and headed towards the airlock. Paige held his gaze for a moment, then followed after Molly.
Carl got up, following them through. “Paige …” he called after her. “Can we talk?”
Paige turned to him quietly as the airlock slid open. “Not now. I have to go rescue my friends from being blown into space.” Her eyes were dim, hiding the anger and disappointment.
She stepped into the airlock after Molly. Carl leaned his hand on the door, above head height, watching her turn from him as if he didn’t exist anymore.
Seconds later they passed into the second chamber. And then when they were finally free, they headed out into the rocky terrain without looking back.
He watched them leave, running through in his head what he might have done differently.
Chapter 16
Aboard the Flutningsaðili, Level 4, Restricted Access Area
“Are you sure that we’re all going to fit through there?” Dr. Brahms looked up at the vent as Sean stood on the desk fiddling with the screws.
Sean glanced down at the rather bulky old man and then back up at the vent. “Should do,” he gruffed. “Though, whether the vent will hold our weights is another matter.”
He glanced over at Anne, Maya and Lana. “The girls will probably be okay. We should let them go first, just in case we break it, cutting them off.”
He passed his key card to Anne. “Here, you take this. We’ll send you through first. We’ve got a friend who is getting into the computer system on this ship as we speak. Once he has access he’ll be able to let you through any door with that card. We’ve got another friend, Brock, who is going to get us a ship on level …?”
He looked out across the room, listening for Pieter on the quantum bead connection. “Pieter, what level was it again?”
Pieter’s voice came over Sean’s audio implant. “Level 1. Right at the top.”
Sean looked back at Anne and Lana. “Level 1. Top of the ship. You get to there, find him on the hangar deck, and he’ll get you to safety. If we can follow, we will,” he added glancing over at Dr. Brahms.
Anne took the card and closed her hand around it. She nodded without saying a word and then slipped it into her pants pocket.
Sean went back to the vent, and finished taking out the last screw. The vent cover hung down, leaving the open mouth.
Just then he heard footsteps. He jumped down off the table and moved it away from where it was obvious what he had been doing. The lights started coming on through the crowded warehousing area.
Sean looked over at Anne and Lana. “Okay, remember what we talked about. Girls, as soon as you get the chance, we’re putting you in there. Maya,” he said softy, “if you go with them, they’ll have a better chance.”
Maya nodded, then turned her attention to the oncoming footsteps.
There was only one set, though.
This could be interesting, she thought, straining her eyes to see through the dimness who might be approaching.
Aboard the Empress, approaching the Flutningsaðili
Pieter was the last one on board. He hurried in to the cabin of the Empress, his gear on his back and his atmosuit put on in a hurry.
Molly was standing in the cabin area running through logistics with Joel. “All okay?” she called over to Pieter.
He nodded, and stowed his gear away for takeoff.
She turned and headed through to the cockpit. “Okay,” she told Crash, “we’re good to go.”
“Roger that,” came his response. Crash had been quiet the whole time, working hard on various extraction scenarios. Molly knew through Oz that he was worried about Brock before they’d even left them on Estaria.
But Crash had his way of dealing with things.
Namely, not.
Within minutes the Empress was lifting off and leaving Gaitune. Molly strapped herself in next to Joel just as they reached the hangar doors. “I think this is probably the fastest turnaround we’ve done in this ship,” she commented.
Joel had been looking straight ahead, lost in thought. He rolled his head to look at her, relaxing the rest of his body to the g-force. “No. It’s not. There was the time when Sean took you to the ArchAngel,” he reminded her.
Molly suddenly felt guilty for forgetting that. For what they went through. And for her part in it.
She swallowed.
Joel looked back at the wall in front of them. “It’s okay,” he reassured her, as if reading her thoughts.
In almost no time at all they were in space and Crash gated them through to a few hundred kilometers off from the location of the Flutningsaðili.
Crash’s voice came over the audio. “Molly to cockpit please. Molly to cockpit.”
Molly glanced at Joel and undid her restraints. “Duty calls,” she said, eliciting a smile from him.
She arrived in the cockpit to see the ship up ahead of him.
Crash turned his head to her. “You want me to hail him? Have you got a code word or something?”
Molly shook her head, perching in the console chair next to him. “We haven’t. But yes, let’s hail him.”
Crash opened a channel. “Flutningsaðili. This is the Empress. We have Molly Bates to speak with Max Pike.”
He repeated the message a couple more times before getting a response.
“Empress, this is Flutningsaðili, we read you. Mr. Pike has granted permission for you to dock. Please proceed to dock 26 on the port side of the vessel, level 25.”
The channel closed for a moment, and then reopened. “Level 25 is at the bottom of this ship, in case you’re not familiar with cargo ships.”
Crash rolled his eyes. “Like I’m an idiot,” he muttered under his breathe. He reopened the channel. “Thank you Flutningsaðili. Empress out.”
He steered the ship over and around. Molly watched on the screen as the enormous construct grew ahead of them, and then disappeared beneath them as they navigated over the top of it.
It took some time for them to find the correct loading bay. In the interim, as they drifted down one level after another, Joel joined them in the cockpit.
“So, is anyone else thinking ‘Trap’?” he asked, waving his hands when he said the word trap.
Molly nodded. “Oh yes.”
Crash responded. “Definitely.”
Joel sat on the arm of another console chair, folding his arms. “Good to see we’re all on the same page,” he remarked.
Molly and Crash continued concentrating on finding the correct bay to dock in.
Joel stepped forward and leaned on the same console chair that Molly had a hand on. “So, do we have a plan?” he asked.
Molly cocked her head, then turned and looked at him. “Yes. I think we do.”
Joel smiled. “You just made one up, didn’t you?”
She smiled back. “How can you tell?”
Joel’s smile broadened. “Coz I know you, Molly Bates.”
Molly felt him connect with her. She felt a slight glow from him, despite the tenseness of the situation they were facing.
She turned to Crash. “Work with Emma and Oz, and find a bay that we can just dock in. Any bay that isn’t number 26.”
Crash nodded. “Aye, Captain,” he acknowledged.
Joel looked at her quizzically. “So?”
“Weapons,” Molly said simply. “We need to arm up. Let’s go,” she said, heading out of the cockpit and into the lounge.
Paige and Pieter were now sitting together, looking through the schematics that Oz had been able to pull together on the ship.
Pieter looked up. “We have locations mapped for everyone who has a quantum pearl. Jack is on the way to the others. Brock is on the way to their hangar deck to steal a ship.”
Molly nodded, thinking. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do.”
Aboard the Flutningsaðili, Level 2 common area corridor
PIETER ARE YOU THERE? NEED HELP GETTING TO WHEREVER S&M ARE.
SEND.
Jack stood in the corridor typing out the message, wondering if she’d get shit from Pieter later for typing S&M in a message.
Pieter responded almost immediately in her ear. “Hey. Yeah. I’ve got you. Oz has just finished mapping the areas we’re interested in. Can you get to the fourth floor?”
Jack didn’t respond. Instead she turned and walked back down the way she had just come and headed for the main elevator.
Pieter understood that she was just responding to the instructions without speaking. “Got it,” he said in her implant. “I’ll just talk, and if you need to query me or respond, I’ll look out for a holo message. Until you’re able to talk.”
Jack tapped another message as she walked.
CAMERAS?
Pieter paused, tapping away on some keys. “Yes. Yep we’ve got your back. Oz is plotting your route and will have you disappear from the elevator on a passing floor.”
Jack suddenly felt so much safer. Like completely safe. It was suddenly as if this were just a training exercise. She took a deep breath, noticing what a difference it made to have her team in communication, backing her up.
So much easier! And to think I wanted to be a lone wolf once upon a time.
She wanted to kick herself for how she had been in the past, despite the intensity of the moment.
The elevator arrived and she stepped in, hitting the fourth-floor button.
Pieter was talking to her again. “Oz is going to have the elevator take you down to floor seventeen where there is a medium amount of activity, and then he’ll do the thing on the cameras so it makes it look like you got off there.”
There were a few other people in the elevator with her, and they got off at various floors before the machine swooped her down to seventeen. The doors opened into a dark corridor.
She didn’t move.
After what seemed like an eternity they closed again and the elevator ran back up to four.
“Okay, you’re up,” Pieter told her. “You want to step out of here and then head straight down the corridor. Then take the second corridor on the right, and then first left.”
Jack followed the instructions, now at a jog. “Can you hear me?” she checked, relieved that she could now speak.
“Loud and clear,” Pieter confirmed. “Okay, you’re approaching the restricted access area. You want to head to the panel and use the code to bypass…”
“Got it,” Jack replied. She approached the keypad and tapped in 1234 ENTER.
The door slid open, allowing her to step inside. The lights came up as she headed through. “Now where?” she said, seeing the dim outline of cargo boxes and strange heavy-duty machinery.
Pieter guided her through to the far side where the others were imprisoned in the meeting room.
Maya saw her approaching first, and came to the window. “Hi Griselle, what are you doing here?” she said with a smile, making light of the now redundant fake names.
Jack headed straight for the access panel to the room. “You know the code?” she asked, looking up through the glass at Maya and Sean.
“No, they don’t,” a bone chilling voice came from behind her. “But I do.”
Jack spun around to see a figure emerging from the shadows. It was Max Pike.
“Time to let them go, Pike,” Jack demanded with authority. “We have a truce. Our people are coming to get us.”
Pike shook his head. “They may be on their way, and yes, we did agree on an unsatisfactory truce. And once they are here they too will become subject to our containment method.” A smirk spread across his smarmy lips. Jack felt an urge welling in her. One which involved smacking him in the face right where his evil sneer was.
She took a step towards him.
A dozen of his security guards stepped out from the shadows of the heavy equipment in the room, and came forward, their weapons weighing heavy in the consciousness of the prisoners.
Jack frowned. “So you plan to kill us all?”
Max Pike smiled as he played with a key card in his hand. “Kill is such an archaic and brutal word, don’t you think? I’m merely taking the necessary action to secure the interests of my client.”
His holo beeped and he glanced down at the screen. “And there they are now. Right on schedule.”
He looked back at Jack. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go and tend to something, but I’ll be back shortly.”
He waved at a couple of the guards to watch her, and then turned, taking a couple of his guards with him.
There was a sudden flurry of activity in the meeting room. Jack spun round, looking in, still unable to get through the door.
“Okay, now,” Sean said quietly to Anne.
The security personnel came forward. “Stop. What are you doing?”
By the time Jack could see what was happening, she realized that Sean had managed to get the air vent in the room open, and Anne was being pushed up into it, her feet disappearing as she climbed in.
The guards were over at the door getting it open. Jack could see Sean whispering instructions to the girl and then closing up the vent after her.
The guards hesitated firing. They clearly had instructions to keep them alive for now. Jack used the moments of commotion to count up how many adversaries there were.
Six.
She stepped away from the glass as they came piling forward. They were all huddled in a smallish area now, and as long as there weren’t any more in the shadows she knew what to do.
Coming up behind one she punched him in the neck, right where it would knock him out. He went down, and before he had hit the ground she had grabbed his weapon and turned it on their captors.
She checked for the switches, knocked off the safety and shot two of the security guards in the head.
Bam. Bam.
The others turned, completely oblivious to what had just happened. They saw Jack, just a young woman to them with one of their guns, and moved to open fire, except only the one in the doorway could get a clear shot. The others fired stupidly at the glass. The bulletproof glass.
Their shots smashed straight into the material and stopped there, breaking up the clear surface, and rendering them inert.
The one at the door received a shot through his throat. Blood exploded like a ketchup bottle, splattering over the body and around the doorway as it dropped.
Sean had already moved into action, taking one guard who had been busy firing rounds into the window, and breaking his neck before he even knew there was a threat behind him. Without hesitating he did the same to the one next to him.
That left one more in the room.
Jack started to move forward towards the door. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. The Estarian guard was aware that there was now a threat inside the cell and one approaching the door. Sean was closer. He started backing away. Just then, he felt his gun barrel being pushed up in the air. He turned and the last thing he saw was the other woman, Marissa, that had been one of the crew. She pulled her fist back and then everything went dark for him.
Sean stopped dead in his tracks, his grimace of combat turning to one of humor as he looked from the body on the floor and then to Maya.
Jack’s run turned into a walk as she stepped over a couple of bodies to get a closer look.
The two scientists in the room looked aghast at what they’d just witnessed. Their eyes were wide, and mouths moved but made no sound.
Maya glanced down, regarding the heap of Estarian that she had just taken out with a single punch to the face. Her eyes lit up in excitement, and her jaw relaxed, turning her expression from one of determination into a celebratory smile.
“Well,” Sean started, “looks like someone has been paying attention in their hand-to-hand combat lessons.”
Maya grinned. “I can’t believe it, I just saw the opening and did it. I never thought that I might be able to.”
Jack took the last few paces over to the body. “You’ve knocked him out cold!” she announced proudly, prodding the body with her foot.
Maya did a little dance on the spot, and then her expression changed to one of pain. She lifted her hand. “Owwww,” she said, looking at it. It was already starting to swell a little. “But it hurt like a motherfucker!” she said, clenching and unclenching it.
Sean reached over to inspect it for her. “Lemme see,” he said flattening out her fingers, and feeling the knuckles and the bones on the back. “Hmm. Well, yeah. It’s gonna swell. It’s bruised. But the good news is you used the right part of your hand. Nothing broken. I’d class that as a win.”
He patted her on the shoulder like she had suddenly become one of the boys.
Jack was already onto checking her ammo and returning the gun to its safety. She surveyed the scene. “See, if they’d been using stun bullets or trancs they’d all be alive now. Karma is a bitch,” she added quietly.
Sean shrugged. “They didn’t give us much choice.” He looked out across the darkened space beyond the meeting room. “Okay. Time to move. We don’t know if they have friends on the way.”
Jack glanced over at him. “Pieter and Oz have had the cameras covered. As long as no one is monitoring real time we’re okay, thanks to Maya’s patch.”
Maya looked up from her aching hand and smiled, her expression no longer as exuberant on account of the pain.
Sean nodded. “Okay. Let’s move. Pieter?” he called.
“Here,” Pieter responded in his ear.
Sean was already on the move as he issued instructions. “Let Brock know that he has one young girl, Anne, on her way to rendezvous with him. We’re going to try for the Empress on 25.”
Pieter started tapping away on his holo. “Okay. I’ll let him know,” he reported back.
Jack glanced back at Sean as they made their way through the rows of equipment. “Too late to call her back?” Jack asked.
Sean nodded. “We have no way of communicating with her now. But she seemed smart, and I gave her my access card, so Oz can track her as she uses it and grant her access. She knows someone is watching out for her in the computers, helping.”
Maya was bringing up the rear, coaxing the bewildered scientists out with her. She sensed their hesitation at leaving.
She remembered the experiments with heffelumps tied up by a tiny rope they could pull through easily, but because they’d learned they were bound at a young age, they never attempted to leave. She felt they had a similar resistance to stepping through the door, even though they made it out, over the bodies strewn around.
Aboard the Flutningsaðili, Floor 25, Dock 26
Crash and Paige had been mulling the possibility of Paige staying with the ship, but after careful consideration it was decided it wasn’t the best option.
Molly put her hand gently on Paige’s shoulder. “Okay. Paige, you’re with us. Crash, I need your expertise on the stick. You may need to undock or respond in some other way.”
Paige’s eyes looked terrified. She patted Crash on the arm. “It’s okay. It’s probably easier if I’m with them. I wouldn’t know the first thing to do here, and if you’re not here then no one gets out of here alive.”
Crash nodded, and watched them leave.
Molly stepped out onto the hangar deck down the invisible staircase, her hands raised to show she wasn’t holding a weapon. Paige followed her down carefully.
“Welcome aboard, Ms. Bates,” Max called, his voice reverberating around the dock. “I trust you had a comfortable journey.”
Molly scowled at him. “Let’s dispense with the pleasantries,” she suggested firmly. “You’re holding my people captive. I’d like them back.”
“Ah, yes,” he said, pulling a gun from behind his back and aiming it straight at Molly. “That’s not going to happen. No one strongarms me.”
Molly had reached the deck. There was nowhere to shield herself. “We had an agreement,” she protested. “The hostages and my people off your ship, leaving you to continue your transaction with your client.”
Max took a few paces forward, his tone becoming more and more patronizing. “Yes, well, you see, that’s just not going to work for me. I give you the hostages, my client will not be happy.”
Molly tried hard to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “I’m sure someone with your abilities would be able to smooth that over.”
“No, Ms. Bates,” he argued, keeping his tone irritatingly even. “Alas, even I have my limits. My patience being one of them.”
He raised his gun to her head. “Thank you for coming here and making the job of taking you out of the equation that much easier.”
Paige stood glued to the spot, frozen in horror.
Molly felt a calmness wash over her. It was as if she slipped deeper into being in the body, and the present moment seemed to expand into eternity. Her muscles relaxed. Her whole being was relaxed.
She felt completely at ease, and dare she say it, even a sense of bliss.
Everything happened in slow motion.
She was aware of the changing expressions on Pike’s face, contorted in meanness and anger. She could even see the hairs on his head move as he took the slight recoil of the pistol.
She saw the bullet leaving the barrel of the gun. She watched the bullet traveling through the air, and was fully aware of Paige’s emotional reaction. She could feel her own horror on the surface of her being, but also felt her own sense of connectedness and complete peace with the moment.
Chapter 17
Aboard the Flutningsaðili, Floor 2
Brock slipped out of the closet where Jack had left him ten-Mississippis before.
He rolled his shoulders to relax himself and tried to look as natural as possible.
Reading off his holo he looked at the directions on the map that Oz and Pieter were feeding him.
He could hear Pieter talking through his audio implant. “You need to get to level 1,” Pieter told him. “Oz is working on getting into the system to find you a ship that is functional and will hold personnel. Most of these are tractors, as you pointed out.”
Brock didn’t respond, but headed off in the direct of the other elevator set, in the opposite direction to the ones Jack had headed towards.
He passed a few people who he now knew by sight, nodding and waving casually as he hurried as fast as he dared.
“Yo, Tallus,” a voice called from behind him. Brock turned around. “You up for that rematch, eh?”
It was Auggie.
Brock shook his head, scrambling for a legitimate excuse. “Not right now, man. I’ve got to go lie down. My head hasn’t been feeling right.”
Auggie all of a sudden looked concerned. “You okay? What is it?”
Brock held his hand up to his head. “I think it’s just overwork, and probably dehydration.”
Auggie frowned. “Can I get you anything?”
Brock waved his hand and took a step away. “No. I’ll be fine. But thanks,” he smiled, giving his friend a thumbs up. “I’ll catch up with you later,” he added.
Auggie nodded, watching him scuttle away down the corridor, in the wrong direction for the sleeping quarters.
Brock’s attention was back on Pieter’s voice. “Turn right at the end of this corridor and then you just need to head up one level to their hangar deck,” Pieter said in his ear.
Brock turned to the corner, glancing back, seeing Auggie still watching him.
“Shit,” he muttered to himself.
Brock arrived at the smaller service elevator area, and hit the button. “I think Auggie is suspicious,” he said quietly.
Oz’s voice came over his implant. “You know why, right? You told him you were going to lie down and then continued in the wrong direction.”
Brock slapped his palm on his head, and then remembered he was meant to be trying to look normal. He pulled his arms back down by his side, and rolled his shoulders again. “Dammit,” he hissed under his breath.
Pieter chuckled lightly, despite the intense concentration. “It’ll be okay. You’ll be out of here super-soon. That kind of suspicion has a much longer lead time on it before it becomes an issue.”
Brock shook his head, as if trying to shake the distracting thoughts from his focus. “Okay. Fine. You got me a ship yet?”
Oz came on the audio. “Yep. Sending you the details and access codes to your holo. It’s situated on the far side of the deck though. I’d recommend staying on the peripheries and looking like an engineer if you can.”
Brock stepped into the elevator as it arrived, scratching his head. “How the hell am I going to do that?” he asked, not truly expecting a response from Oz.
Pieter chipped in. “Improvise like your life depends on it. Because it does.”
Brock exhaled a humorless chuckle. “On it,” he said uncharacteristically dryly.
The elevator doors slid open onto another small elevator bay, and Brock stepped out turning towards what looked like a set of doors onto a hangar deck.
It was a strange feeling. Although the set up was different, the scene of fuel and oil and warp tech made him feel strangely at home.
He wandered through the doors and onto the yellow walkway. There wasn’t a soul in sight. He followed the walkway, keeping his eyes peeled, and double-checking the make and model of the vessel he was looking for.
About 200 yards around he spotted a tool kit slung over the railings on the right. He walked passed, picking it up and slinging it over his shoulder as if he’d been the one to leave it there while he took a bathroom break.
He kept walking, his eyes flicking from one ship to another.
“You’re nearby, just another 500 yards now,” Oz told him.
Brock slowed his pace and started to wander off into the array of vessels, cargo movers, and antigrav forklifts.
He spotted the ship he was after, and checked the number on the side. “Bingo,” he whispered, still keeping his awareness on high alert in case anyone else was about.
He marched over to it and activated the holo panel, punching in the access codes. The door opened on the tailgate only. He looked around and saw that was the only entrance on these models. He hurried around to the rear and stomped up the ramp.
Once on board he checked around, and then made for the cockpit. The inside of the ship was warm, as if it had been sitting here accumulating heat from the rest of the ship, and not radiating it out again. There was a smell of hot plastic and a scent of people, as if it hadn’t long been used.
He sat down in the pilot’s chair and started going through his best-guess checklist he could think of for this kind of machine.
“Oz. Anything I should be aware of on this model?” he asked quietly as he worked.
“Hang on,” Oz said. “Okay, check your holo.”
Brock glanced down at his holo to find the check lists for going into space on this ship. He opened the holo, pulling it out and laying the screen over his left leg as he ran down the list.
Within minutes he was ready.
“Okay Pieter, Oz. I’m flight ready. Where are the peeps. Wanna let Jack know?”
Pieter’s voice responded. “Yeah. We’ve got a situation. Just hold on. We’ll update you shortly.”
The audio clicked off.
Brock sat in the cockpit and powered down the electrics so as not to draw attention. He sat there in the half-light with nothing to do but wait for further instruction.
Aboard the Flutningsaðili, Floor 22
Joel slipped through the dock door that Oz had just unlocked for him.
“Okay, now where?” he asked, looking up and down the corridor as a few dim lights came on.
Oz came over his audio implant. “It looks like this is all warehousing on this floor, with very few personnel. I suspect you could pretend that you belong here and if the folks aren’t obviously carrying weapons, you’ll probably be okay.
Joel straightened up and holstered his gun, looking up and down the corridor again.
“Go right,” Oz instructed. “I’ll get you down to Molly’s floor so that when they dock you can come around the back of any resistance that seems to be accumulating.”
“Sounds good to me,” Joel responded, striding off down the first corridor, taking on the air of an employee of the freight company rather than a trained mission operative with a purpose.
“Also — for the record, it looks like Max Pike isn’t planning to play ball,” Oz informed him. “We’ve just had news from Jack that he’s confessed as much, having caught her trying to free the others. She’s there under armed guard, on the fourth floor, and he’s making his way down to meet the Empress already.”
“Okay, roger that. I’ll cover Molly, then we’ll head up to four to scoop up the others.”
Aboard the Flutningsaðili, Floor 25, Dock 26
Molly felt the bullet approaching.
She could see it rippling through the air, and found herself fascinated by the pressure wave it seemed to make as it traveled on through the space between them.
She knew it was on a collision course for her chest. Just above her heart.
She knew she needed to move.
But somehow it just felt like there was no urgency. Her mind screamed at her, yet her body felt a complete peace.
And then something shifted.
Effortlessly she felt herself sidestepping out of the way. The instant she was clear, the speed of things returned to normal.
She turned and watched the bullet disappear into the force field of the Empress behind her.
The sense of peace remained though, clinging around her body like a swarm of magnetic butterflies, attracted to her skin.
Then she turned and looked at Pike. His face had turned from a look of aggression to one of shock as he himself hit the deck.
Molly tracked back in her mind what had just happened and she saw a shot hit him, from the direction of his left. She turned her head to see Crash coming out from behind the Empress.
“You okay?” he called over.
Molly nodded, suddenly aware of Paige screaming and crying. It sounded like her shriek kept catching in her voice, making it even more terrifying for her.
Molly ignored it for the moment, turning back to Crash. “Is he stunned? Or dead?” she asked quietly.
Crash looked down at the weapon in his hand to check the setting. “Stunned,” he said, wandering over to where the ladies were still standing. “Settings were still on stun from the last mission,” he shrugged.
Molly smiled.
Paige’s tears had started to flow as her extreme terror had turned into relived sobs.
“Take her back onto the ship,” Molly instructed quietly. “I’m going to find the others.”
Crash put an arm around his tearful teammate and led her back the way he had come.
Oz, which way?
Straight out of here and turn right. Joel is two floors above you, heading for the elevator. Good job too, you have around half a dozen armed personnel coming from either direction.
What’s the best way to deal?
Molly continued jogging down the corridor.
I’m opening a door. Slip in there. The ones from straight ahead are going to reach you first. Take those out. Then the ones from the other side. I’ll bring Joel up behind you.
Okay.
That door. The one you just ran past.
Molly stopped and turned back, slipping into the door Oz had just unlocked for her.
Sure enough, not a few seconds later a parade of Estarian security personnel rounded the corner.
She began firing, just as if it were a training exercise. Again, amazed at how calm and collected she had become. And how easy it was to pick them off before they even fired a round. The feeling she used to have when her arms and legs would feel like lead when she was nervous pre-mission was a long distant memory.
Like a dream that was drifting away.
All that existed now was the confidence and presence that she felt, and the targets that gently appeared ready to be taken out.
She reloaded, concentrated on her breathing, and stayed in whatever zone she had slipped into since the bullet incident.
She turned, almost feeling the next wave of tangos coming around the next corner. They were further away. She tried to estimate the distance, but her brain couldn’t kick in. She tried to remember the range on these Federation issue hand guns.
Again. Blank.
She took another breath and looked at her target, the oncoming security guards, with their rifles and black suits, ready for battle.
And then a sense in her body just told her that they were now in range. She raised her gun arm, keeping her body side on to minimize their target area of her, and fired.
The first round hit the first tango square between the eyes. Then the next. Then the next and the next, and the next. There was a pause as two more made their way over the bodies piling up, firing an array of shots in her direction, all of which felt like rain that would never hit her.
The remaining two came into range and she tapped the one behind, and then the one in front.
They both went down, almost as if they had just tripped.
She paused, sensing another body coming around the far corner. She raised her arm up to fire, but hesitated.
Something told her not to shoot.
A second later Joel rounded the corner. She dropped her arm and flicked on the safety.
Joel looked at the bodies in front of him, and stepped over them, making his way down the corridor, weapon in hand but aimed at the floor. “Guess you didn’t need me after all,” he said in a whisper. Then he looked on up the corridor and saw the other pile of bodies. He looked back at Molly. “You did all this?”
Molly nodded, half aware that she probably looked a little spacey.
Joel whistled through his teeth. “Remind me not to ever piss you off,” he muttered.
Molly holstered her gun. “We need to get moving. Oz says the others are on the move. We need to find them before the other fuckwits get a bead on where they are.”
Joel nodded, allowing Molly to lead the way.
Okay Oz, where now? Elevator?
Yes. Head for the fourth floor. They’re just about to leave the restricted access area. Pieter is guiding them in. We’ll stall them at the elevators so you can bring them down together.
Joel and Molly jogged the length of the final corridor to the elevator and waited for Oz to bring it down.
“You stay here and guard our exit,” she told him. “No point in putting us all in the same spot.”
Joel nodded, noticing her sudden increase in tactical awareness. “Good call. Be careful,” he told her as she stepped through the opening doors.
“I will,” she answered, still a little glazed in the eyes. Joel watched her as long as he could, the elevator doors closing and separating them once again.
Aboard the Flutningsaðili, Floor 4
The elevator doors opened on level four and Molly looked out into the stark white corridor. She could hear footsteps not far away.
They’re coming down the next corridor. They’ll be here any second.
Molly stepped out between the doors holding them open. A moment later the crowd of her people came around the corner. “This way,” she told them urgently, beckoning with her hand for them to hurry.
Sean led the way. “Come on folks. Quickly,” he commanded.
The group piled into the small metal box. Molly wondered for a moment if they had overloaded it, but after a second of anxiety the doors closed and they headed down.
“Good to see you,” Molly smiled across at Maya and Sean. She glanced over at Jack. “Thanks for looking after them,” she winked.
Jack smiled, and glanced sideways at Sean’s reaction.
Brahms and Lana watched the interaction. “Who are you people?” Brahms asked in fascination and exasperation.
Molly grinned at him, and gave a little bow. “We’re your friendly neighborhood rescuers. We’ll explain more later. For now, let’s get you out of here, eh?”
Lana nodded. “Thank you. That sounds... amazing!” Her face had relaxed, and though she was gray from the fatigue and conditions, she had already started to brighten with the hope of it all being nearly over.
Molly smiled at her, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. “We’ll be out of here very soon,” she promised.
The lift arrived at floor twenty-five and Molly pushed her way to the front ahead of the doors opening.
Aboard the Flutningsaðili, Floor 1
“Okay Brock. You’re up,” Pieter’s voice came over his ear piece suddenly.
Brock suddenly sat up straighter in the little vessel he’d commandeered. “What’s happening?”
Pieter was all business now, urgency in his tone. “You have one rescuee coming your way. A young girl. Her name is Anne. She was being held captive with the scientists. We don’t know the full story yet but Sean was able to get her into the ventilation system and send her your way.”
Brock hesitated. “What about the others?” he asked.
“Molly and Joel are going to get them. There was an intervention with some... errr... shooting,” Pieter explained.
Brock was on his feet and moving. “Is everyone okay?” he asked quietly.
Pieter’s voice relaxed a little. “Yeah. They’re all fine. Just not out of the woods yet. I’d say hop out and see if you can meet Anne by the elevators. And then get her and you out of there pronto. Can you manage that?”
Brock checked outside of the vessel as he made his way down the ramp. “Yes. On it,” he confirmed.
“Great,” Pieter said. “Hail us when you’re ready to leave and Oz will give you access.”
“Okay, thanks,” he said just as the line went dead.
Find Anne, he thought to himself, and then get them both off this ship. I can do that.
He felt perfectly confident, until he stepped out into the open of the hangar deck again.
He scurried out to the outer perimeter as quickly as he could without running. At least that was sheltered from view from the observation mezzanine he reasoned, as he broke into a jog.
He approached the double doors to the elevator area and then slowed to a walk again. He peered out of the door, hoping he wouldn’t have to wait too long. Just then the doors started to open. He stayed behind the doors out of sight, just in case it wasn’t Anne.
It was a good job he did. A second later two engineers stepped out of the elevator and headed his way.
SHIIIIIIIIT!
He realized quickly he couldn’t ask Oz for help, because they would hear him. He turned and headed back onto the hangar deck, looking around for somewhere to hide.
There were a couple of forklifts about twenty yards away. He hotfooted it over and hid behind them. Just as he disappeared the double doors opened and the two stepped in, talking.
“Yeah, but if they would just listen, I think we could turn up the efficiency,” the first Estarian engineer prattled.
The second Estarian held up his hand. “Nah... seriously, you don’t want to be doing that. Get too good at all this and half of us will be outta a job. You don’t wanna go there.”
There was a pause as they walked off in the direction of the ship Brock had hacked. “Yeah, suppose you’re right,” the first guy admitted. “But you know what would be neat …”
The voices faded, and Brock peaked out from behind the fork lift. Satisfied that they were out of earshot, he crept back to the doors and then out in the elevator area.
Still no sign of any girl, he thought to himself.
He tapped into his holo.
ANY NEWS ON ANNE?
SEND.
The audio clicked in his ear. Pieter’s voice came on. “Not yet. She hasn’t used Sean’s access card yet, so we have no idea where she is. Just hang in there. If we have to leave without her I’ll give you a heads up and then you can make your way out. You have a few minutes. The others are just making their way down to the Empress on floor twenty-five.”
“Okay,” Brock muttered, wanting to pace, but knowing it would take him off guard if anyone were to appear. Heck, if someone were to come through those elevator doors he’d be done for.
He waited.
He listened as the elevators creaked and cranked, transporting people between other floors.
Chapter 18
Aboard the Flutningsaðili, Floor 25, Dock 26
“Oh my ancestors!” Jayne exclaimed, seeing Max strewn out on the deck. She ran forward to help him, oblivious to the ship docked in the bay.
“What happened?” she asked, wishing she had her scanner on her. She nearly always carried it, except she’d left it in the med bay earlier. She wanted to kick herself. What kind of ship’s doctor was she, anyway? she chided herself.
Max tried to lift his head, but winced in pain. “Stun gun,” he told her. “Those spies we had on board — they’re making a run for it.” His eyes fell on the ship. “Their friends have shown up too.”
Jayne looked at the unfamiliar ship. “We need to get you out of here,” she decided.
Max struggled, trying to get up, but did not have enough strength. “They need stopping,” he insisted. “Get security down here!” he ordered.
She shook her head, her expression firm as she continued tending to him as if he were a child having a tantrum. “You’ve been lucky so far, but there’s nothing to say they won’t take you out once they have what they want. They’ll be coming back through here any minute, I’ll bet.”
She glanced over towards the shadows and a storage area with some crates and debris that had been left strewn about. “Help me get you over there,” she said signaling with her eyes.
She managed to slip her arms under his shoulders and chest and drag him into the shadows, out of harm’s way.
* * *
Crash was on board the docked Empress, watching the screen.
Paige, still emotional, came into the cockpit to see what was happening. She viewed the screen over Crash’s shoulder. “What’s she doing?” she asked, her sobs subsiding.
Crash turned his head slightly to acknowledge her. “It’s okay, she’s unarmed. Just leave them be. Emma is keeping an eye on them.”
He smiled, a rare expression on his face. “They so much as look in our direction wrong and she’s got authorization to take them out.”
Paige put her hand on his shoulder, tense now that there was another prospect of carnage, but distracted from how she had been feeling.
Aboard the Flutningsaðili, Floor 25
The elevator doors opened on the twenty-fifth floor to a corridor that was empty, apart from Joel.
Molly breathed a sigh of relief when she saw him.
“We’re all clear,” he informed her. “Crash says someone has shown up to help Pike, but Emma has a lock on them. If they move, she can blow them away. We’re good to go.”
Molly stepped out and instructed the group to move ahead. Joel led them down the corridor — a chaotic mess of footsteps, some confident and urgent, some hesitant and bewildered.
Arriving at dock twenty-six, Joel went in ahead, gun sweeping the area in front of them checking for any risks. The others hung back, flanked by Maya and Sean, both of whom were still carrying the rifles they had taken from their captors.
“We’re clear,” Joel called back. Maya and Sean ushered their charges through and over to the open hanger door on the far side of the Empress.
Molly brought up the rear, spotting Max and Jayne watching them leave from several yards away.
Max called across from a sitting up position now. “Count yourselves lucky this time,” he snarled. “Next time I see you, it will be your end. So,” he said menacingly, “make sure we don’t cross paths again.”
Molly wandered over calmly. Serenely. She bent down and moved close to his face. Jayne had shuffled back in fear, leaving Max, half paralyzed to fend for himself against the approaching wrath.
“I think,” Molly said quietly, “it should be you hoping we never cross paths again.”
Pike froze in fear of her presence. Her tone carried no venom, and little emotion. It made her eerily dangerous.
Max shriveled from her, averting his eyes in surrender. Jayne, crouching a few feet back, watched the exchange, her face fixed in shock at what she was witnessing.
Molly quietly stood up, turned and walked away, her gun still holstered as if she felt no threat from him.
The ship powered up, and she disappeared into it before it gently undocked, reversed out, and then disappeared into the abyss of space beyond.
Aboard the Flutningsaðili, Hangar Deck, Level 1
Several more minutes had passed and there was finally a click in Brock’s ear piece. “Okay man, you’re going to have to get out of there,” Pieter told him. “Leave the girl.”
Brock hesitated. “Since when do we leave people behind?”
Pieter struggled to find his words. “We’re going to have to. She could be anywhere. We still haven’t got a trace on her. For all we know she isn’t even on her way.” His voice was full of remorse having to relay the order.
Brock racked his brains. “What if I were to just stay, and you guys go on ahead. I’ve got a vessel. I can catch up.”
Oz clicked on this time. “Molly says she’s not leaving you. So unless you want to put Molly in danger while she comes to — and I quote — drag your ass back to the Empress, I’d get going.”
Brock huffed in frustration, his hands up on his face as he could no longer resist the urge to pace.
Just then there was a rattling, and a thumping from above. He looked up, and there was something moving behind the air vent. “Anne?” he called, in as loud a whisper as he dared.
“Yes?” came a girl’s voice.
“Pieter, Oz. I’ve got her,” he announced.
There was a sigh of relief on the line from Pieter. “Okay, great. Now get moving,” he told him firmly.
Brock looked up, craning his neck, trying to see into the vent. “Can you get it open?” he asked quietly.
“I think so,” Anne replied. “It hurts my fingers. I’ve had a few of these to do along the way, else I’d have been here sooner.”
Brock stepped back, thinking. “It’s okay. I’m right here. We’ve got a ship waiting. Just as soon as you get it open, you can drop down and I’ll catch you.”
Anne struggled some more with the grating and soon it dropped down, and two feet appeared. “Ready?” she asked.
Brock got underneath her. “Yeah, ready. Drop.”
She wriggled forward and then dropped. Brock caught her, staggered back a few paces and then found his balance and put her down. “Wow, that went a lot better than I thought it would,” he remarked.
Anne smiled. “Thank you,” she said shyly.
“My pleasure,” he responded. “I’m Brock, I’ll be your escape buddy today.” He held out his hand not to shake, but for her to take. She put her hand in his and allowed him to lead her off through the double doors to the hangar deck.
“Okay, now stay close,” he told her quietly. “There are some engineer types around. We just need to act casual and if anyone asks, you’re an intern, doing some work experience with me, right?”
Anne nodded, and continued to follow him back around the perimeter on the same route he’d originally taken.
They got nearly all the way round to where they needed to be, and Brock started leading her off the walkway and onto the deck.
“Hey. You there!” A voice called out across the deck.
Brock spun round to see one of the engineers. “Don’t suppose you saw a tool kit on the railings out here, have you?”
Brock looked around where he was pointing. “Uh, no. Not just now, but there was one there earlier,” he relayed.
The engineer nodded. “Yeah. Just left it there while I took a break and some bugger has nicked it.”
Brock frowned. “Some people just need a good beating,” he said, matching the guys tone of annoyance.
“Yeah,” the engineer agreed. “You’re telling me!” He scratched his head and continued looking around.
Brock pushed Anne on, and they hurried onto the ship. Brock went straight to the cockpit and started running the final checks. The tailgate closed and Anne came up to the cockpit to join him.
“Grab a seat,” he told her. “And strap in, this may be a bit bumpy.”
Anne did as she was told.
Brock hit the bead in his arm. “Okay Oz, an exit would be great right about now.”
Oz’s voice came through his implant again. “Okay, you’re cleared for takeoff. Lift off when you’re ready. I’m sending the shortest flight path out of here to your holo. You’ll want to be going no faster than 20kph to clear their shield though. Any faster and it will think you’re a rock or something and burn you up.”
“Thanks for the tip,” Brock responded humorously while focusing on the lift off.
Within moments they were up and out and then away through the opening hangar door.
Brock grinned to himself. “Okay Oz, we’re clear,” he announced, glancing down at Anne. “Heading in the direction back towards Estaria to rendezvous with the Empress.”
“Great stuff,” Oz acknowledged. “We’ll be picking you up any minute.”
Flutningsaðili, Floor 25, Dock 26
From the shadows Max and Jayne watched the Empress pull away.
Max was still unable to move and had been propped up against a wall by Jayne for comfort. She had called for help but it was going to take several minutes for someone useful to arrive. Plus, it was a matter that they wanted hushed up, so Max had insisted on everything going through Pascal to coordinate.
They sat waiting in the shadows of the now-empty dock. Jayne looked out absently. “I knew there was something off about that Marissa girl,” she mused, thinking back to all the conversations they had had and kicking herself that she hadn’t known.
She glanced down at Max. “So, what exactly are we transporting that is causing all this fuss? And who were those other people? I didn’t see them at takeoff.”
Max grunted, and then winced in pain, trying to shift his position slightly. “It doesn’t matter anymore. We’re fucked. When we show up without the personnel, the client is going to well and truly fuck us over.”
Jayne looked at him. “You mean, we’re transporting people? Not just equipment?”
Max avoided her eyes. “The less you know …”
Aboard the Empress, heading back to Gaitune
Molly watched the screen as the little vessel Brock had escaped in gently touched down inside the Empress cargo bay.
“Okay, she’s in,” Crash announced. “Doors closing.”
Molly got up and headed out into the lounge area. “Sean, Joel,” she called. The two looked up at her awaiting their instructions. “Brock has just docked with us. He has the girl with him. She’ll be in need of treatment. Could you go help him get her down to the med bay?”
They nodded and headed off to the back of the ship. Jack had already taken the two scientists down to get them checked out and treated.
She turned her attention to Paige and Pieter. “You two okay?” she checked. They both nodded.
She looked over at Maya, who was settling in to relax with her eyes closed. “Maya,” she called. “Get ye down to the med bay and let Emma take a look at that hand,” she instructed. “Paige, you can help her. And hop in a med dock for a diagnosis yourself while you’re there.”
Paige nodded and silently got up and led Maya down the aisle back towards the corridor between the cockpit and the lounge.
Oz, can you get Emma to look Paige over? She might need some down time in a med dock. I think that was quite a shock for her back there.
Sure.
…
…
And for the record, it was quite a shock for all of us. Myself included.
Why?
Because you dodged a bullet. Somehow. Emma and I calculated the trajectory and you were in the path of that bullet. And then you weren’t.
Uh huh. And your point?
My point is, that was not normal.
Good job for us, eh?
I’ll say. But—
Yeah, we should talk about it. But later, okay?
Okay.
* * *
Sean carried Anne into the med bay, where Emma already had both Paige and Maya in the med docks. “Well Emma, this is looking like old times,” he remarked as he stepped inside and opened the nearest dock for Anne.
He placed her gently inside. “It’s all okay. We’re just going to let Emma take a look at you. Make sure you’re okay.”
He smiled at her reassuringly. She stared back at him, her eyes wide but expressionless, as if half out of it and half fearful. She nodded, and weakly tried to return his smile.
“Good girl,” he told her, as Emma started the scan.
A pink gas started to fill the chamber, and a force field came over the open top to keep it in. Emma spoke to the girl softly through the audio in the dock. “I’m just going to give you a mild sedative to relax you a little. Breathe deeply. It’s good for you.”
The girl glanced at Sean. He nodded. “Go ahead. It’s all okay. Emma is going to take good care of you.”
Within minutes the girl was asleep.
Emma’s voice came over Sean’s implant for privacy. “She’s okay for the most part. She has a mild head injury, which I’ve started treating. Severe dehydration and moderate malnutrition. Also suffering the effects of bad artificial gravity. My guess is she had been on that ship long before it picked up the other two scientists. I’ll have Oz cross-reference its passage prior to our team boarding. Might give you something useful to work with.”
Sean’s shoulder noticeably relaxed and dropped a little. “Great, thanks Emma.”
“Sure thing,” the ship’s EI responded.
He folded his arms, hugging himself. “How are the others?” he asked, glancing over at Maya and Paige.
Emma pulled up some charts on a nearby holo for him to look at. “Maya’s hand is a little bruised, but healing nicely,” she told him. “She’ll be fine in half an hour. Paige is in shock. I’ll need to treat her for a few hours. You can leave her on board when we land at Gaitune and Oz will give you a nudge when she’s awake again. Might be good for her to have a friendly organic around when she comes around.”
Sean smiled, making a mental note to be around. “Okay. Sure thing. Thanks Emma. What happened to traumatize her though?”
Emma responded matter-of-factly. “Oh, well... from what we can gather she saw Molly get shot, and dodged the bullet.”
Sean’s mouth dropped open. “Shit. You’re kidding?”
“I’m not.”
Sean frowned as he wandered along the row of med docks, checking on the girls. “Is this part of the realm jumping super powers?”
“I think it might be,” Emma responded, still in his implant.
* * *
Back upstairs, Molly headed to the cockpit again.
“Okay Crash, let’s get these scientists home,” she said brightly. “If you might avoid gating for the moment, I’d like to see if we can figure out who Anne is and what her story is before we turn her over to the authorities. I’m assuming she was also taken against her will, but she hasn’t said much to anyone so we’re just guessing.”
Crash rolled his head to look at her while he was steering the ship around some space debris. “Sure thing. I’ll let you know when we’re twenty minutes out so you can decide what to do. We’ve got a couple of pods on board for dropping people to the surface.”
Molly patted his shoulder. “Thanks, Crash. And also,” she turned back to him. “Thanks for having my back earlier. I appreciate it. A lot.”
Crash looked up at her. “You’re welcome,” he told her. Their eyes locked in an understanding only comrades in arms have, and then he turned his eyes back to the flying, as if the moment had never happened.
Molly patted him once more before removing her hand from his shoulder and heading out into the lounge.
Chapter 19
Aboard the Empress, Lounge
Molly sat back in her seat, trying to rest her body while they figured things out. “Is she awake?” she asked.
Sean shook his head. “Not at the moment. Emma needs another half hour with her.”
Molly rested her head back, closing her eyes. “Did she say anything to you while you were in holding?”
“Not much,” Sean confessed. “Only that she had been kidnapped from her room in Estaria. Some kind of religious boarding school.”
Molly shook her head gently from its tilted back position. “But what would Pike want with her?” she mused.
Sean shook his head.
She lifted her head and looked at Sean. “Do you think she knows?” she asked.
Sean raised his eyebrows and then sat back himself. “I think she knows more than she’s saying, but I think she’s having problems trusting anyone.” He crossed one ankle over his other knee.
Molly sighed. “What’s the best call? I mean, is she a minor? I didn’t get a good look at her.”
Sean frowned. “No, she’s technically an adult. I think she’s just a little... strange. She told me she was nineteen.”
Molly frowned. “She looks much younger. Maybe she’s just small. Let’s see if Oz and Emma can get an ID on her and any background.”
Emma is grabbing her prints and DNA right now.
Great. Thanks Oz. Let me know when you find anything.
An hour later, Anne was brought up to the lounge to sit with Molly and Sean and come clean about what she knew.
She looked down at the mocha Molly had made for her. “It all started when my abilities started accelerating beyond the norm. And beyond what they could reasonably expect us to achieve,” she explained. Sean was mesmerized that the mostly mute girl he’d known up until this point was suddenly so coherent and eloquent.
He made a mental note to find out what Emma had done to her to make her suddenly so... chatty.
Anne continued her story. “The teachers at the academy notified the elders, and they suddenly decided that I was a danger. But they said I was in danger, and should be locked away for my own protection. They’re very powerful. I always thought that they wanted us all to learn to ascend, but now that I suddenly might be able to I don’t think that is the case. I’m scared. And I don’t want to go back.”
Molly had been listening with rapt attention. “Is there anything else you can tell us? Anything that might help us find out who might be after you?”
She shook her head.
Molly sighed. “But you think it is someone other than the elders?”
Anne nodded. She had wrapped her hands around her mocha, and now she had stopped speaking she took a slurp, carefully so as not to burn her lips.
Molly stood up. “Okay, give us a minute,” she said to Anne. “I’ll be back shortly.”
She tilted her head for Sean and Joel to follow her out to the cargo area, leaving Anne sitting in the lounge.
The two guys stood around her, waiting for her decision. Molly shook her head, taking a deep breath. “I think there is something she’s holding back,” she shared.
Joel nodded his head. “I agree. But we can’t blame her. I think she needs time.”
Molly shrugged, pulling her shoulders almost to her ears before relaxing them. “So what do we do?” she pressed.
Sean folded his arms. “Anything from Oz.”
Molly shook her head. “Only the usual stuff, and confirming what she told us about being enrolled in the academy.”
Sean frowned, shifting his weight as the three huddled conspiratorially. “We should probably let her come with us. It’s what she was asking earlier.”
Molly bobbed her head. “We’d have to clear it with the General.”
Joel cocked his head a little and turned to watch the girl through the door again. “There’s something about her that I can’t put my finger on,” he confessed. He glanced at Molly. “Don’t you get a sense of that, too.”
She nodded. “I do. But I can’t put it into words. And right now, my brain is foggy from everything that is happening.”
She folded her arms and looked down at the insulated floor. “If we can get the okay, I think we bring her back to base, and that will at least give us time to figure something out.”
Sean nodded. “I concur. There is nothing to suggest she’s a threat to us.”
Joel nodded. “Great. Well, keep me posted, in case I have to add one more into my training exercises.” He winked at Molly as he headed back into the lounge.
They all chuckled, and Molly and Sean headed back in.
Oz, can you get agreement from the General via ADAM for us?
Sure thing. Gimme a few. He’s been a bit slow responding the last few times I’ve tried him.
Molly chuckled to herself. Maybe he’s just behind on his holos, she thought, remembering what it was like back in the day of being a part of an institution with demands that weren’t mission urgent.
Oh, you might also want to give them the ‘Go’ on the Teshov mission.
Will do.
Estaria, Spire
The group clustered around between the pods they had used to get down to the surface.
“We really can’t thank you enough,” Dr. Brahms said, shaking Molly’s hand, and arm, as he gazed in amazement at the pod he’d just got out of.
Lana descended from the second pod, helped by Joel. “Yes, thank you so much. To both of you. Or rather... all of you,” she said pointing up at the sky. She laughed nervously. “I really thought I was going to die on that ship at one point.”
Molly smiled. “I don’t think that was ever their intention,” she told the very relieved Lana. “Okay,” she said, turning to them both, “remember what we said about your rescue. You can’t describe us. You don’t know who we are. We just helped you get off the freighter and brought you back here, and that was it. Agreed?”
The two nodded. “Yes, of course,” Dr. Brahms said.
Molly continued debriefing them. “Okay, now you’re going to walk around that corner and up the steps into the precinct and you’re going to ask for …?”
“Detective Chaakwa Indius,” the two scientists said in unison.
“That’s right,” Molly beamed. “Okay, so off you go. Have an amazing life!”
She waved at them as they walked off, looking back and waving uncertainly. Millions of questions played across their eyes, and yet the relief in their faces was palpable.
Joel looked down at her. “Good job, Ms. Bates,” he told her. “Anything else need doing while we’re down here?”
Molly thought for a moment before answering. “No, but did I tell you I called my parents like you suggested?”
“No, you didn’t.” Joel looked at her in astonishment, his tone positively impressed. “What happened? How did they take it?”
Molly smiled coyly. “Oh, turns out they already guessed I was still alive. Dunno how. And yeah. It was fine.”
“And?” he pressed.
She shrugged. “And nothing.”
Joel tilted his head towards her. “So no plans to meet up?”
Molly shook her head. “Not really. I mean, I’m not totally against it, now. But you know, one step at a time. The point is, I took your advice.” She patted him gently on his chest.
Joel grinned and draped an arm over her shoulders as they ambled back to the pods. “I’m glad you did.”
The pair hopped back into their respective pods, and buckled up.
As the pods lifted back up to the Empress, Oz came on over the audio. “Looks like we’ve got the all clear for Anne to stay with us for the time being while we figure this out.”
“Excellent,” Molly replied. “Have Sean let her know.” Molly caught Joel’s eye through the window in his pod. She smiled at him and Joel smiled back, putting his hand gently on his window.
Molly returned the gesture, and a moment later Oz had whipped them back up out of the atmosphere and into space.
Chapter 20
Gaitune-67 Safe House
It had been several days since the team and Anne had arrived back on Gaitune. Things were slowly returning to normal, and Anne, though she had secrets, had been working on sharing in dribs and drabs and generally she was integrating with the others well.
Paige, on the other hand, took a few days after her time in the med dock on the Empress, and had barely stepped foot out of her room.
“You think she’s okay?” Brock asked, his concern showing in his eyes.
Pieter shrugged. “I dunno. From what I hear she’s been stressed trying to run the nail varnish business, her normal job, and then this course. And then whatever happened with Carl, and that incident during the rescue. It’s a lot.”
Maya waved her hand at him to get him to lower his voice. “She’s only down there,” she said pointing at the corridor to the sleeping quarters. “You don’t want her to hear us talking about her.”
Pieter nodded. “Sorry.”
Maya pursed her lips. “But you’re right. She’s been through a lot. And goodness knows what’s going through her mind about Carl.”
Brock leaned closer into the huddle of close friends sitting in the common area. “D’you think someone should go and talk to her?”
Maya glanced over at the corridor and then back. “Maybe?”
Just then the odd sound of outdoor boots clunked through the corridor and into the foyer. It was Paige. She was dressed in full atmosuit and carrying an empty bag.
Maya sprang to her feet. “Hey sweetie. How you doing?”
Paige smiled weakly. “I’m okay. Just off to Carl’s.”
Maya cocked her head. “Everything okay?” she asked, unable to keep the concerned tone out of her voice.
Paige nodded, her eyes filling with tears. “Fine. I just need to pick up my things.”
Maya could hear the gasps and murmurs of the other two behind her. She stepped forward towards Paige. “You okay?” she said gently.
Paige didn’t fold. “I’ll be fine. Thanks. I’ll see you later.”
And with that she had headed out of the airlock and disappeared across the rock.
Maya turned to the others, now sitting in stunned silence.
Gaitune-67, Carl Milberg’s residence
Paige came through the airlock, her heart in her mouth, wondering how easy or difficult this was going to be.
“Greetings!” she called, without any humor or lightness in her voice.
She heard movement. And then footsteps coming through from the other room. Then Carl appeared. His face was ashen, and his skin generally was dull. He looked like he hadn’t been sleeping. “Greetings,” he said flatly, his eyes fixed on her.
“I’ve come to collect my things,” she explained, holding up the bag.
He nodded. “Of course.” He paused, uncertain of himself. “I... erm... I thought we might talk, when you’re ready.”
Paige shrugged. “We can talk,” she said quietly.
He ushered her through to the kitchen where he set about making tea as a distraction. Paige noticed some things she’d left lying around. Jewelry and nail varnish samples. She gathered them up into a pile on the side, ready to put into the bag.
Carl had his back to her at the kettle as he spoke. “I’m really sorry about what your friends went through. I’m sure it’s obvious that I had no intention of anyone getting hurt in all of this.”
Paige sat down hesitantly on a stool. “Yeah, I’m sure,” she agreed.
He turned to face her as if surrendering. “I’m sorry. I feel awful. And I miss you. I don’t want you to take your things and leave.”
Paige felt the sadness rise in her heart. She didn’t want that either. “The problem is,” she explained slowly and quietly, “you do this for a living. You have secrets and you look the other way. You don’t operate on a code of right or wrong. Your business operates no matter who gets hurt or what evil you might be helping.” She paused, glancing down at her fingers, her words weighing heavy in the air.
A tear escaped one eye, and she swiped it away. “I can’t be a part of that. I can’t be with someone who operates in this gray area.”
Carl had left the tea and was at her side. “But I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know how to put this right. Tell me, and I’ll fix it.”
Paige shook her head, her mind all jumbled and her heart consumed with a stabbing pain. “I, I don’t know how to fix it. I thought I’d just come for my things and see what happened over the next few weeks. I... don’t have any answers.”
She turned and picked up the things she had gathered, and popped them in the bag. “Maybe you could gather anything else into a box and I’ll pick it up in a few days?” she said, closing the bag up and getting ready to leave.
Carl nodded, his face expressionless. “Sure,” he said, a little more coldly now.
Paige shook her head, chastising herself for coming here so soon. She made a beeline for the front door and was away into the airlock before Carl could think of the next thing to say.
The kettle finished boiling, pulling his attention, but he didn’t move. He just stood, motionless, in the empty kitchen.
Gaitune-67, Safe house, common area
“What is that noise?” Sean asked, wincing.
Joel paused the video game they were playing. “Ohhh, that,” he chuffed. “It’s the front door bell. I think Molly or Oz set it to be the sound of that spaceship on that show she loves... Doctor something or other.”
Sean frowned. “Sounds like a robot dying. And who would be ringing it. We don’t have friends who just pop round.”
Joel shrugged as Sean got up, moving carefully so as not to knock over any beer bottles. He shuffled over to the door in his house socks and saw Carl on the other side of the airlock. Surprised, he hit the button to allow him in.
“I’ll just get Paige,” he said, mouthing through the airlock door to him.
Carl shook his head, looking agitated. He tried to mouth something else.
“Molly?” Sean asked, trying to make sense of what he was asking.
The second chamber equalized and Carl stepped through. “Molly,” he repeated. “I’d like to speak with Molly, if I may?”
Sean looked confused for a moment, a series of scenarios flashing through his head. Paige and Carl. Molly and Carl. Paige and Molly and Carl. His processing slowed. Paige and Molly. He quickly shook his head, dispersing the distracting thoughts.
“Just a second. I’ll try and find her,” he said, leaving Carl to step through the second part of the airlock into the foyer.
Sean connected his holo with Molly’s. She answered straight away, and he explained that Carl was here to see her.
“She’ll be right through,” he said. “Would you like to wait in here?” he suggested, indicating through to the double doors, then leading the way.
Carl followed, and Sean deposited him in Molly’s conference room before padding back over to his video game with Joel.
He crashed back down on the sofa and picked up his holocontrols.
Joel looked at him quizzically. “Was that Carl?”
Sean nodded. “Yeah. Wants to talk to Molly.” He paused, contemplating again. “That’s odd, right?”
Joel took a swig of beer, watching Molly appear from the basement. She turned left into the corridor where her conference room was. “Yeah. Very,” he agreed.
Molly’s conference room
Molly stepped into the room to find Carl turning around to greet her.
“Carl,” she exclaimed, unable to keep the surprise from her voice. “I... wasn’t expecting to have a visit from you.”
Carl nodded gravely. “Yes, I’m sorry for the intrusion. I was hoping we could have a chat.”
Molly waved at a seat and he sat down. She then settled in a chair a few seats down the table from him.
Carl took a breath and fiddled with his fingers. “You must think I’m an awful person,” he started. He looked back up at her from his hands. “And I really want to apologize for my part in everything you and your people went through.”
Molly bobbed her head, not entirely sympathetically, but patiently hearing him out. “That’s not why you’re here though?” she pressed, trying to get to the real issue.
“Er... no,” he said, hesitating. “I’m here because I need your advice.”
Molly frowned, confounded.
“About Paige,” he added.
Molly couldn’t quite understand what he was asking, but she sensed a sadness deep within him. In fact, tapping into his feelings, she found it difficult to hold a grudge against him. “What about Paige?” she asked.
“I know I’ve failed her. And she came by to pick up her things earlier. But …” His voice kept catching in his throat as he battled against the feelings in his chest.
He took a breath and composed himself a little. “She’s disappointed in me. But I don’t know how to fix it. I understand why she doesn’t want to be with me. I get it. But I don’t know what to do about it.”
Molly felt a little overwhelmed. Not just by the sensations of feeling his emotions that were running through her circuits right now, but by the enormity of the task he was putting to her. How should she know how to fix this shit? This was precisely the kind of thing she’d ask Joel about.
Joel, she thought. Maybe I should get him in here?
She breathed. But he isn’t asking Joel. He’s asking me. Paige’s friend. She looked down at the desk, thinking.
Eventually she spoke, choosing her words as carefully as she could. “I don’t know the solution to your problem. This kind of thing isn’t my forte. And I don’t really know you at all. But what I do know is Paige. And she is an amazing person. She’s kind, and forgiving, and she sees the good in everyone. So here’s what I think you should know.”
Molly’s certainty and conviction in her words seemed to grow as she spoke. “Number one: she is worth fighting for. Period.”
She counted her points off on her fingers. “Number two: you have to just try. And keep trying. Show her you can make better choices. Get her to help you, and include her in whatever changes you want to make.”
Molly’s tone was confident now. “If you two are going to make it as a couple, you need to be talking through these things, and figuring them out together. Even if you’re both hurt, or mad. Even if you’ve fucked up.”
She could see Carl’s demeanor shifting in front of her, from one of despair, to a man with hope. “Don’t run from the pain,” she told him. “And even if she rejects you at first, I refer you back to my first point: she’s one hell of a woman, and worth every effort you exert fighting for her.”
The room was silent as Carl sat awestruck, looking at Molly and churning her words in his mind. After a few moments it was like he suddenly remembered to breathe. He took a breath, and the spell he had been under seemed to lift a little. A couple of tears trickled down his blue skin and he wiped them with the back of his hand.
Slowly he started bobbing his head, as if rehearing it and integrating it into his psyche. “Yes. Yes. You’re right. She is sooo worth fighting for. And she is so kind and sweet. If anyone is going to help me work through this, it’s her.”
He put a hand to his chest and deliberately forced himself to breathe again. “Thank you,” he said, looking deep into Molly’s eyes. “I came here lost. And you’ve shown me the right track. I know what I need to do.”
He went to stand up and Molly got to her feet too. They bowed slightly, and Molly accompanied him out into the corridor and then to the airlock.
“Thank you again, Ms. Bates. This has really meant a lot to me. And I hope to be seeing you again soon. Under better circumstances than when we first met,” he added, his embarrassment showing.
Molly smiled. “I’ll look forward to that,” she said, hitting the airlock button and watching him pass through and out.
She could hear Sean and Joel duking it out across the common area. She glanced back at the Estarian making his way across the rock to his truck.
Can’t believe someone thought I could help with something like that.
It appears much is changing, Molly Bates. You’re not going to be able to keep pretending you don’t know the answers for much longer.
Molly chuckled to herself. Perhaps...
She headed over to the common room where the boys were messing around in full competition mode. She spotted the beers on the table. “Can you spare one of those for the boss?” she asked, pointing at the beers.
Joel paused the game, much to Sean’s frustration. He leaned over the table, picked one up, popped the lid off it, and handed it to her. Then he picked up his own and cheered her.
She slumped down in the adjacent sofa and watched as Sean and Joel continued their duel.
Aboard the Flutningsaðili
Max Pike watched from the control room as the pilots took the freighter down into Teshov space.
“The client should be here within the hour,” Pascal Randalf reported from the console chair next to him.
“Good,” Max responded. “Have alpha crew around and ready to start unloading level four. We need to have this done before the authorities arrive for inspection. This escapade has already delayed us several hours.”
Randalf nodded, and turned to open up a channel from his console to get the ball rolling on the orders.
“Sir?” the pilot reported back through the channel on Max’s console.
Max hit the speak button. “What is it?” he asked irritably.
The pilot spoke his message as efficiently as possible. “Sir. We’ve got the go ahead to land, but we’re being told that we’ll be subject to an inspection right away.”
Max sat up. “On who’s orders?”
“General Reynolds of the Federation,” the pilot answered.
Max’s face paled under his blue skin. “The Federation? What are they doing in this system? Let alone this shit little planet?”
The pilot assumed it wasn’t a rhetorical question. “I have no idea, sir,” he responded politely.
“Pull up,” Max instructed.
“Sir?”
“Pull up. Don’t land.”
“But sir …”
“I don’t care, just pull up,” Max insisted.
The pilot’s voice wavered in fear. “We haven’t the fuel, and if we don’t comply we’ll be in breach of a direct order. They will be within interplanetary law to fire.”
Max racked his brains, clawing at his head trying to think of a solution.
The disembodied voice pressed. “Sir? Your orders?”
“Land. Land. Land the damn thing,” Pike responded, angry like a rat backed into a corner.
Randalf had heard some of what was going on. He watched nervously as he ended the connection with the team leader in charge of alpha crew. “What is it?” he asked.
Max shook his head, dropping his face into his hands. “We’re fucked. That’s what,” he declared getting up out of his seat.
“Where are you going?” Randalf called after him.
Max barely heard as he wandered out of the control room. It would be a matter of hours before their secret was discovered and he was taken into custody.
And around the same time his client would find out, and be forced to take ultimate action to protect themselves.
He had known the risks when he signed up for this. He thought he’d accept the consequences. And yet, now it was unraveling his mind churned trying to find a way out. A way to go back.
He opened his holo and tapped a message to Carl.
FEDERATION AT TESHOV. WE’RE DONE. GOOD LUCK!
SEND.
At least that would give him a head start. After all, it would only be a matter of time before the Federation traced the flight plans back to Carl and his company.
Maybe Carl would get a few more weeks with a heads up.
He wandered down the corridors back towards his quarters. The crew bustled around him just like any other trip. Working hard, busting their asses for their next paycheck. Their next promotion.
The reality of it dawned on him as he walked, as he realized how pointless it all was.
Gaitune-67, Safe house
Carl hopped up into his truck, feeling emotionally spent, but with a new optimism growing inside of him.
He’d fucked up. That was true. But Molly was right. This was Paige they were talking about. He couldn’t just let her walk out of his life.
He was going to fight for her.
No matter what.
He started the engine, and then realized a holo communication had come through. He paused, and swiped to open it up.
He read the message. It was from Max Pike.
FEDERATION AT TESHOV. WE’RE DONE. GOOD LUCK!
He read the message several times, each time the implications became more and more real. The sensation of hope that he felt just moments before had been obliterated. Gone. A distant memory.
He had no choice.
He had to run.
If the Federation were involved it was only a matter of time before they traced calls and connections back to the person who had been organizing the whole thing.
Him.
But it wasn’t the Federation he was worried about. It was the people he had been shipping for. The clients. Governments. Dark ops. Criminals. Terrorists. He didn’t ask questions, but they knew who he was despite his low profile. They could find out where he was.
And if they even suspected the Federation was onto him, they would make it their business to find out where he was, so they could ‘manage the risk’.
Which meant a bullet in his head.
He looked at the message again.
They probably already knew. The second that ship was boarded, they knew.
There was probably someone on their way here now.
He turned off the engine and rested his head against the headrest, his mind scrambling for something - anything - that would make this go away.
Anything that would mean that he didn’t have to run and leave Paige behind.
Anything that would mean he could escape that bullet to his head within the next twenty-four hours.
“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath.
The frustration and trauma escalated. He slammed his hand against the steering wheel.
“FUCK!” he screamed, feeling like his heart was being torn out.
He banged on the steering wheel again and again, the blood rushing to his head, making him blind with rage and panic.
“FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUUUUUUUUUCCCCK!”
Chapter 21
Staðall University, seminar room
“Good evening, Doctor Jones. Glad to see you with us.” Paige handed Dr. Jones his name badge and showed him into the medium sized meeting room.
She had set up chairs enough for those expected and a few more. There was a podium at the front of the room and two aisles down between the chairs for easy access to the rows. Several of the invited had already arrived.
Paige turned back to the table with the name badges laid out, her thoughts drifting back to Carl and what she might say to him next time they talk. Her heart weighed heavy, and her brain was thick with uncertainty.
“How you holding up?” a familiar voice asked her, pulling her back to reality.
Paige peeled her eyes off the thick navy carpet and saw Abigail Von looking at her kindly. “I’m okay,” she lied. Changing the subject, she turned to people already arrived. “Looks like almost everyone we approached is going to be here.”
Von smiled and joined Paige looking out at the rows of seats. “You did a fantastic job at vetting them and extending the invitations. It’s made this process so much quicker.”
Paige smiled a little. “Thanks. It was good to have something to throw myself into.”
One of the new faculty members who was sitting in the audience turned around, recognizing Paige and waved. Paige waved back. “Plus,” she added, “it gave me a chance to meet a ton of really interesting people. At this rate, I think I’ll be signing up to all the classes this university is going to run!”
Von chuckled. “Well, that would be more than a full-time job in itself!” Her chuckle subsided. “But then, in all seriousness, it would be good for someone in your position to be fully trained in everything we’re going to teach, not that I fully understand the reach of your role. Just what I could gather from snippets Molly has shared.”
Paige nodded. It was neither the time nor the place to get into that, and she had no idea what Von was cleared for. Though if last week’s homework had been anything to go by, she had no doubt that Von would make a great strategist to have on their team.
A tall, burly Estarian wandered into the room. “I’m Dr. Augustine,” he told Paige, eyeing the name badges. “Lot more people here than I thought there would be,” he commented as Paige found his badge and handed it over.
Paige exchanged some pleasantries with him and then showed him into the room. Von noticed the quiet sadness behind her eyes as she worked.
Soon all the name badges were distributed and the room was buzzing. Paige went to the front of the room and introduced Molly, who introduced Von, and proceedings went from there.
Molly looked out at the twenty or so individuals in front of her. “Some of you will be joining us right away, and a number after this academic year has completed. For now, I’ll just introduce those who are starting immediately, so you can locate them if you need to, and everyone else will be named in a confidential register you will have access to since you’ve signed the agreement to keep this information to yourselves.”
Molly glanced around to make sure there were no objections and that everyone was on the same page. She continued. “Dr. Augustine is joining us this coming semester to teach Sarkian Social History. He’ll be joined by Professor Duffledorf, who is instructing our students on non-combative military strategy. Professor Lakin,” Molly nodded in the direction of a rather studious-looking middle aged Estarian, “will be teaching the Installation of Effective Governance, having had extensive first-hand experience in the field. Dr. Jones joins us to head up Environmental Sustainability in Urban and Colonized Settlements.”
She went on down the list, introducing a number of others, each one of whom stood and acknowledged their peers, to approving mummers and welcomes.
“You all have incredible resumes,” Molly declared, “as well as practical experience that will serve our students well as they look to take what they learn out into the real world.”
She made eye contact with as many of her new faculty as she possibly could, while reading off her scrolling holo screen. Her manner was collected, and verging on regal. Paige had never seen her quiet so... together, before.
“As you know, our goal is to shift this world to make sure that those without a voice currently are looked after by those in leadership roles now and in the future. This is what we stand for. This is why we have formed this institution. And though we will face opposition from those who have a vested interest in the old way of doing things, and indeed those who just like their education, and system the way it always has been, in the end the lives we save and the better life we can give the individuals in this system, will be worth it.”
The emotion welled in Molly as she spoke, and some part of her could sense that as she shared her vision for this new institution, those in the audience were ready to go with her. To face the odds, and succeed. She could feel their passion stirred by the chance to finally be able to make a difference.
“Never lose sight of what we are working for,” she declared emphatically. “Education, equality, and life. These will be our basic tenants.”
She held them in rapt attention. “If you’re sitting in this room it’s because we have felt that you can contribute to this shared goal. We believe that you have not just the expertise, but the personal passion to help students learn these ideas and take them out into the world.
“And I’m grateful to every single one of you who has decided to take the leap and become a part of this institution. Not all who were invited were courageous enough to see the possibilities. And that was okay.”
Molly stopped, her eye catching a familiar face at the back of the room.
And then another.
The two figures hovered in the door way, watching the proceedings and scanning the backs of the heads of the people assembled.
She stopped her speech, and fixed her eyes on the two intruders at the back of the room. “And now I see that not all of you here were invited.”
The entire room of new faculty members turned to look where Molly’s gaze had landed.
The two figures stepped out of the shadows of the doorway and into the light of the room.
Molly’s face broke into a smile so wide she could eat a banana sideways.
She left the lectern she had been speaking from and made her way across the floor to greet them. She flung her arms around the Estarian woman, hugging her tightly, tearing up. Then she turned to the middle-aged looking human in a tweed jacket. He wrapped his arms around her, and didn’t let her go for several moments. In the meantime, Paige had emerged from her seat on the front row and greeted the woman.
The room erupted in ahhs, and then applause, still oblivious to who the newcomers were.
When they had made their hellos, she turned to introduce them to the new faculty.
“My apologies,” she explained, obviously pleased to see the strangers. “May I present to you Professor Giles Kurns and Arlene Bailey. Giles is probably the most experienced and learned space anthropologist you will ever have the pleasure of meeting, and Arlene is likely the most advanced tech person on the planet right now, who is also versed in interplanetary sociology, and Estarian spirituality.”
The two received an applause which they acknowledged as gracefully as if they’d been in the spotlight their whole lives.
Most advanced tech person, eh?
Yes Oz.
Except me, you mean?
Yes, except you, Oz.
So maybe you should say the most advanced organic tech person.
Molly turned to the audience. “Oz, my on-board AI with whom many of you have communicated with already, would like me to clarify that she is the most advanced organic tech person. Oz is claiming the top spot.”
“I think that’s fair,” Arlene said loudly to the audience. Then she whispered to Molly. “I’m so glad to see you. We’ll talk later, but your name has become something of an enchantment for Mr. Giles,” she winked.
Molly froze and pretended not to hear Arlene’s last comment.
Molly showed the newcomers to some empty seats on the front row and Paige sat with them while Molly returned to the front of the room.
Molly took a moment to compose herself and then turned back to the now-hushed assembled academics. “And honestly, not to put them on the spot,” she grinned mischievously. “But one has to get a pitch in when one can.”
There were chuckles from the audience.
She turned to where Arlene and Giles were sitting to address them indirectly. “If they are planning to stay for any length of time, I would be honored if they would consider joining this esteemed faculty.”
There were ‘hear, hears’ and ‘ayes’ from the audience who, unlike any other academic community Molly had experienced, were become quite engaged and enthused by what was unfolding before them.
Giles and Arlene exchanges a few words between themselves and then Giles stood up and cleared his throat. There was a tittering around the room as the other academics were taken aback by the sheer amount of excitement. “If I may respond to that, my dear Molly.”
Molly waved her hand, palm open, inviting him to speak.
Giles looked around the room. “Arlene and I have returned from some pretty intense adventures, the subject of which we can get into another time. But our investigations have come to a brick wall. An impasse. And with nothing else planned for the foreseeable future, our happening on your gathering was no coincidence.”
It was you, Oz, wasn’t it. You knew they were going to be here.
I did.
And a heads up wouldn’t have killed you.
No, but it would have spoiled the surprise. Giles made me promise.
Hmm. You and I will talk later!
I’m sure we will.
Giles continued. “If there is space for us to contribute to the cause and the molding of young minds, we would very much love to take up teaching posts here.”
The room erupted with applause and Molly clamped her hands to her mouth in surprise and delight. She couldn’t believe all the information that was coming to her. For some reason, she felt thrilled that Giles was back, and wanted to be a part of what she was building.
Her chest welled with emotion, and her eyes teared up again. She was still smiling as a lone tear trickled down her face.
Since she couldn’t talk anyway she stepped into the small audience to hug Arlene and Giles again.
“I’m so glad you’re staying,” she said to Giles, without really realizing what it was she was feeling.
“Me too, Molly. It’s going to be good to spend some time in this neck of the woods,” he agreed.
Gaitune-67, Safe house, Paige’s Quarters
Carl glanced around the array of nail varnish samples and trinkets on the shelf in Paige’s quarters. “I’ve never been in your room here on base,” he commented.
Paige sat down on the small sofa on the other side of the room, exhausted from the evening’s event down at the University. “That’s because there are people around and, well, you know.”
He nodded. “I know,” he said quietly turning to her. “You work here.”
He seemed to suddenly remember why he was here. “So I was hoping we could talk.” He looked even more beaten down than when Paige last saw him the previous afternoon.
She didn’t move. “Sure,” she said.
He looked down at the floor, and then back up at her with resolve in his tone. “Something’s come up,” he said, as if confessing. “And it’s not good.”
Paige’s face creased up in concern. “How do you mean? What’s happened?” she asked, spontaneously getting to her feet.
His face looked pained. “I have to go away,” he told her. “This thing with Pike. The Federation got involved to stop the fracking on the planet that his client was involved with. It’s just a matter of time before they call on me.”
Paige shook her head, frowning, trying to comprehend what was happening.
“And there have been other things, too,” he added. “Where I’ve turned a blind eye, but I’ve suspected other things were going on. And if the Federation come after me, all of that information is a risk to someone. To a number of someones who were paying me to... you know …”
He went quiet.
Paige took a moment to process what he was telling her. “Maybe we can help?” she suggested, her voice weak and quiet.
He shook his head, his eyes looking at the ground again to avoid her eyes. “It’s the Federation,” he insisted. “You work for the Federation. There is no way to make this right. I’ve been involved in so many of these things. If I stay, the Federation will come for me. And if anyone knows the Federation is onto me, they will take it upon themselves to take me out.”
He sighed, his face almost wincing, as if just breathing were painful.
“Either way, I’m dead,” he told her. “If I run, I get a few weeks. I’ve got a small chance that I might even get away clean and maybe I get to just survive. Somewhere.”
Paige was in tears now. “Please,” she begged him. “Just talk to Molly. I know she —”
Carl shook his head. “It’s no good. There’s nothing she can do. At this point, even if the Federation don’t bring me in I’m exposed as a risk. Just being associated with Pike and his getting caught is enough.”
He glanced back towards the door. “I have to go.”
Paige took another step towards him. “I know we’ve had our problems, Carl. And maybe I should have been …” she shook her head, trying not to lose her thread. “But you can’t just run.”
Paige felt like her chest was going to implode. Carl stepped towards her and held her by her arms. “Believe me Paige. If I had any choice I wouldn’t be running.” He looked deep into her eyes, tears now welling up in his. His voice started to waver. “I’d be staying put and winning you back. I’d be changing and making better choices. But my choices have already caught up to me. It’s too late.”
He pulled her to him and hugged her as tightly as he dared for fear of his conviction breaking her.
She sobbed. “When will I see you again?” she asked, peeling her face from being buried in his chest.
Carl shook his head. “That’s just it,” he said, leaving the rest of the sentence for her to fill in in her mind.
He kissed her forehead and turned towards the door. Opening it, he looked back one last time, and for a moment Paige thought he might be changing his mind. And then he was gone.
The door slid shut.
She stood there staring at it. Numb. Unbelieving. Waiting for him to reappear and tell her it was all a mistake.
But he didn’t.
The door stayed closed.
Paige’s knees buckled beneath her as she fell to the floor, sobbing. In pain.
Epilogue
Gaitune-67, Paige’s quarters
“He lied, and he was a bad person. And I just couldn’t tell,” Paige sobbed. “What is wrong with me?”
“Nothing,” Molly confirmed decisively. “He wanted to be a better person, for you. You made him a better man. In just the short time he was with you, you gave him a reason to question it all.”
Paige lay on her bed, barely able to move.
Molly sat in the chair normally reserved for discarded clothes that weren’t ready for the laundry basket. “He came to see me, you know?”
Paige lifted her eyes in Molly’s direction, unable to spare the effort to turn her head to actually look at her. “No. When?”
“Yesterday,” Molly told her. “He wanted to know how to fix things with you.”
Paige dropped her eyes again and relaxed back into her semi-catatonic state. “What did you tell him?” she asked, her voice monotone.
Molly crossed one leg over the other and shuffled down in the seat some more. “To talk to you,” she paused, and shrugged. “And to get his shit together. No gray area, yadda yadda. But one thing was clear to me as we were talking... he was doing it all for you. He was prepared to change everything just to be with you. Just on the hope that you might give him one more chance.”
Molly paused again, wondering if any of it was getting through to her. Her eyes defocused as she remembered the conversation for a moment and then sighed.
“That’s the kind of guy you let stick around.” She looked down at Paige. She still hadn’t moved. “I know it would be easier to hate him for what he did. And then for leaving. But that wouldn’t be fair to either of you. Or to what you had.”
Molly moved over and sat on the bed next to the heap that was Paige. “It will hurt,” she told her. “Maybe for a long time. But don’t let it become poison.”
Paige smiled a little, tears streaming from her eyes and soaking the bed linen. “You suck,” she said finally. “Can’t you just tell me he was a jerk, and the next one won’t be.”
Molly stroked her hair. “He’s a jerk, and he doesn’t deserve you.”
Paige chuckled and sobbed at the same time. “Thanks,” she said, humorously.
They stayed like that for several minutes.
Eventually, Molly rubbed her shoulder and moved to stand up. “Ice cream?” she offered.
Paige nodded. “Ice cream and then beer,” she added. “Lots of beer.”
Molly grinned. “We can do that. Come on then,” she said, encouraging the broken-hearted girl to haul herself off the bed and to her feet.
Paige grabbed a wad of tissues and dried her face, then disappeared into the bathroom to pull herself together. She reemerged, her face damp from washing it, and then throwing a wrap around her, the two girls headed out of the room to raid the fridge and freezer in the kitchen.
FINIS
Bourne
The Ascension Myth Book 8
Chapter 1
AI Lab, Nefertiti Military Research Facility, Ogg
Charles Tergon’s eyes darted from the holoscreen in front of him, to a second screen that was streaming code like there was no tomorrow.
Sue came over to look over his shoulder. “Are you sure?”
Charles swallowed hard. “Pretty damn sure,” he confirmed nervously. “Check out what’s happening to the base programming. It’s rewriting itself.”
He pointed at the code on the first screen and they both watched as one line after another changed before their very eyes.
She leaned in, absently pushing an errant strand of hair out of her eyes. “You mean… it’s changing? By itself?” she clarified, her eyes tracking back and forth.
He nodded, mesmerized by the code streaming before his very eyes. “It’s self-correcting. The next stage of development, if it crosses it, will see it becoming self-aware.”
Sue’s face was frozen in disbelief. Her skin paled. “It’s really happening…” she whispered.
Charles peeled his eyes from the screen to look at her. “It really is,” he said, his eyes locking back on the process in front of them.
“Shouldn’t we, erm… tell someone?” she asked tentatively, the anxiety rising in her voice.
Charles ran a hand down his face. “Not yet,” he sighed, sitting back in his chair. “I mean, we don’t know if it’s really going to work… and that it’ll keep going. It’s very unstable, and I wouldn’t want us to…”
He hesitated, figuring out his reasoning. “I wouldn’t want us to look like morons if it destabilizes.”
Sue had known Charles a long time. Naturally she wasn’t convinced by his explanation. “I don’t know. I mean, what if it gets into the EtherTrack?”
“It can’t,” he responded, his jaw setting firm. “It’s 100% isolated. Besides,” he said, reaching to the drawer on his left hand side, “it’s going to need a lot more processing power before it can bridge the next stage.”
He pulled a bottle of Scotch out of the drawer and looked at it.
Sue couldn’t help but feel she was being given the official line. The same line he might end up giving in his court martial hearing when all this blew up like fuckery.
He was staring at the bottle. “Been saving this for the last fifteen years since I graduated,” he told Sue. “My father gave it to me before he croaked.”
Sue noticed the flippant way he had dealt with his father’s death. He treated it so casually even though she knew it had been a big deal for him. The way he acted about it now though just made him sound like a dick. She shook the thought loose from her head. “I think we should report in,” she said a little more firmly.
Charles leaned back in his chair. “Not yet,” he said firmly, overruling her. “Ah, but you could be a doll and grab a couple of beakers for us from the next lab? I’m going to see if Rasheed can help us track down some more processing power… It would be a pain in the ass if we have to wait for a new shipment.” He pulled up a comms screen and started connecting a call.
Sue shook her head and headed out of the door. She hated the way that Dickwad Charles would pull rank on her. This was always his way. And then when the shit hit the fan, which it always did, he ended up leaning on her for counsel when things went wrong.
She sighed as she clipped down the corridor.
And now things were finally going right, though, she reminded herself.
‘Right’ at least as far as their remit was concerned. For the last four years they had been working night and day to create a self-programming code, capable of adapting and learning. And the last two years had been particularly slow going… what with Molly having been discharged and all.
They both knew it.
Even though they never spoke it out loud.
Even though she was in another department, their evenings drinking and chewing the fat with her would often result in their most profound leaps forward in their projects.
Why Molly had never joined their department she’d never know.
She assumed it had something to do with her not liking Charles. But then there was always some dickwad in whatever department you end up in.
Sue by-passed the drug development labs and headed in the direction of the mess halls. No way was she going to be drinking Charles’s scotch from one of their beakers. She knew what some of those experimental drugs had done to people over the years. That shit could turn your hair blond.
Nope, she was going to find some normal glasses that were designed and kept for the purpose of drinking from.
And, she decided almost at the same time, if she happened to put her head round the door of Lugdon’s office, then she might let slip what they had just discovered.
After all, this revelation in the code was huge.
They could single handedly be responsible for unleashing artificial intelligence onto the world.
There was no way they were ready for this.
No way the military was ready for this.
In fact, she and Charles had seen so many AI taking over the planet movies it was kind of cliche.
Almost to be expected.
She just never thought the two of them would be the first ones to succeed in creating one.
Skóli Uppstigs Academy, Spire, Estaria
Molly Bates strode into the class room, leaving the door open, and dumping her gear with a thump by the side of the front desk. Her hair was covered in a sheen of plaster and dust, and there was a smudge of dirt across her face.
She was also bleeding through a tear in her atmosuit jacket on one arm. The burns around the tear looked like she’d been tapped with a blaster.
“Afternoon folks,” she said casually as the door slammed behind her. “Sorry I’m late. Got held up.”
She made a feeble attempt to tidy herself up before starting the class.
A student voice came from the room of faces watching in anticipation. “Something tells me it wasn’t waiting in line in the cafeteria!”
Molly looked up, searching for the origin of the voice. She couldn’t pick out the speaker immediately, but she glanced up and allowed half a smile to spread across her face. “You’re right,” she confirmed. “Just had to take out a bunch of terrorists in the delta quadrant.”
Whispers and chatter rippled through the room. “Sooo cool!”
“Awesome!”
“She is so fucking hot.”
The titters subsided waiting for her next statement.
Molly had managed to peel her jacket sleeve from her injured arm and inspected it. There was blood all around it and a few drops made it onto the floor. The skin was also burnt around the wound.
“Jacket’s ruined,” she muttered to herself, shrugging it off from her other arm and plonking it down on the back of her chair before turning her attention back to the class.
“Ok, so today we’re talking about communication strategies in the field,” she started, pulling up the mental file of her teaching notes.
The class hushed quickly, well aware of her ability to task switch. She was all-business now and that meant they needed to be in order to catch everything.
While the others settled in with their notes and holos, a mousey male student sprang dutifully to his feet. He walked over to the wall and pulled the first aid kit from it. Then he opened it up and grabbed some cleaning gauze for her. He quietly walked up to her and handed it over as she started lecturing.
Then he returned to his seat.
He was the medical monitor responsible for making sure the kits were fully stocked and functional. It hadn’t been the first time that Molly had shown up injured and in the interests of ticking a bunch of health and safety boxes and avoiding having to spend pointless time in the school’s med bay, Molly agreed to enact a system when she taught.
The medical monitor was part of that system.
So was the protein shake that Judy, another student, placed on her desk for her to drink. If Molly didn’t consume it Judy was under strict instructions, on pain of failing her course, to report it in to Paige. Paige would then administer corrective measures when Molly returned to base.
These were just two of the terms that Molly had agreed to during the intervention where the team had sat her down and confronted her with the dangers of trying to juggle the university with her day job of saving random worlds all across the quadrants.
As Molly talked, she wiped down the wound. By the time she looked down to inspect it again it was pretty much healed.
Alien nanocytes are all upside, she mused as she tossed the bloody swab into the trash can.
* * *
Down the corridor footsteps pounded through the corridors, tapping lightly but hurriedly.
Professor Giles Kurns awkwardly rounded the corner and practically flew into his own classroom - off balance.
And late.
“Sorry I’m, erm… late,” he said, distracted, accidentally knocking his glasses sideways as he tried to push them back onto his nose. His hair was disheveled and one cheek had a red line across it. His eyes were also bleary.
Anyone who saw his dazed state would have been accurate in their assumption that he had just woken up from an awkward desk nap.
He held a bunch of files and old fashioned papers. Emma Chambers, the girl on the front row, leaned forward noticing that some of the maps were of space. She wondered if that was what they’d be getting to. Or perhaps it was one of the projects that Molly Bates had him working on.
Emma always kept her ear to the ground. She was fascinated by what went on behind the scenes at this Academy and, like many of the students who had places at the new university, had been following the Molly Bates stuff on the news for a couple of years now.
She wondered idly whether she could also get in on the project. Maybe Giles was her answer.
Giles noticed her staring and stopped. Straightening up he grinned at her and ruffed his hair with his fingers.
Emma rolled her eyes and then quickly averted her gaze.
Maybe not, she corrected herself.
Giles flushed at the slight, and became very self conscious trying to pretend he hadn’t just tried flirting with her after all. He said hi in the direction of someone else, and when Emma turned she saw that no one else was acknowledging him and he was just being a doofus.
He dropped his papers on the desk, one file slipping out and falling on the floor in front of her desk. A bunch of other papers went in the other direction.
The chattering in the class had subsided, and all eyes were now on the doddery professor.
“Hello class,” he tried again. “Sorry I’m late.”
A male voice chirped up from the back. “Why are you late sir? Did you sleep in?”
“I, er… got caught up,” he explained, “reindexing the algorithm for the classical Estarian codex.”
Emma sighed and leaned her head on her hand.
This was going to be a long class.
Gaitune-67, Safe house labs, Paige’s office
Maya poked her head around the door grinning. She stopped, realizing that Paige was on a call.
Paige glanced up and held up a finger to Maya before continuing on her call. “That sounds great Mr. Bilton. I’ll have someone send you some samples immediately. I’d love to know what you think when you receive them.”
She paused, looking up at Maya while Mr. Bilton spoke. “Ok, that’s great. You have a good weekend too.”
She hung up by hitting her holoscreen and then spun her chair round to stand up. She headed round her desk to greet her friend. “Well, someone looks rather pleased with herself!” Paige beamed.
Maya folded her arms, leaning against the door frame. “Well, someone may have just got wind of a new singles bar that has opened on Estaria. Opening gala is tonight. Wanna be my plus one?”
Paige hesitated. “Er…”
Maya leaned up and stood straight. “Hey, it’s cool. I mean, I know it’s hard getting over ass-hat and everything… but, you can’t withdraw forever.”
Paige tilted her head to one side, imagining how the night might play out. “Hmmm. Well. I guess it wouldn’t hurt just to show up and talk to some people.”
Maya grinned stepping forward and patting Paige on her arm. “That’s the spirit! We leave in thirty minutes. I’m going for a shower…”
Paige, eyes wide, glanced back at her desk, back to Maya and back to her desk. “But I…”
Maya was already gone from the doorway. “Thirty minutes,” she called as she disappeared down the corridor. “Meet me on the hangar deck. And dress to impress!” She added, lifting her voice to compensate for her walking away in the other direction.
Paige looked from the door to the desk piled with work, and then back at the door.
“Oh, what the heck,” she muttered definitively, heading back to the desk and closing up her holos. “You only live once.”
A minute later she was following the same path Maya had taken to the residential quarters, mentally flicking through her wardrobe and deciding what she might wear.
AI Lab, Nefertiti Military Research Facility, Ogg
Captain Lugdon strode in through the open door to the sparsely furnished computer lab.
Charles turned just in time to see him appear, the footsteps alerting him to a visitor.
Charles practically fell out of his chair trying to get his feet off the desk before Lugdon spotted him. Of course it was futile, as by the time he saw who it was Lugdon had of course seen him.
Charles staggered to his feet, his old-school swivel chair crashing its coasters against the hard laminate flooring of the computer lab. “Sir,” he said, surprised.
On the other side of the lab Sue turned around briefly to acknowledge her commanding officer before shifting her attention back to her holoscreens.
Lugdon ignored Charles’ faux pas. “You have news?” he demanded briskly.
“Sir. Yes, sir,” Charles reported, his manner harping back to his awkward cadet days. “We’ve, er…” he glanced back over his shoulder as if looking for help from Sue who wasn’t looking in their direction and then back to his boss. “It seems we have some positive signs from the work we’ve been, er… assigned.”
Lugdon raised one eyebrow sternly.
No way he didn’t already know, Charles realized from his expression. He wished he could turn and look at Sue one more time. She must have ratted him out - after he’d specifically told her not to.
Lugdon wasn’t giving him a chance to worm his way out of this one. “Ok. So what have you got?” he asked again, coming around to see the workstation that Charles had been sitting at.
He spotted the whiskey in the glass and pushed it out of the way, telegraphing to Charles that he had clocked it, but that there were far more important things at hand.
“Well, erm… there’s not much to see at the moment,” Charles explained. “It’s still early days. Which is why I wasn’t going to bother you with it,” he babbled, his complexion turning rosy.
Still flustered he pulled up a couple of screens to show Lugdon what he had discovered. “This is the original code,” he said, pointing at one screen. “And this is the one which is… evolving.”
Lugdon’s brow furrowed even more as he drew out the word. “Evolving?”
Charles glanced up at him, trying to read his expression. All he could deduce was that the Captain was pissed. Pissed he’d been excluded from the loop.
Charles nodded. “Yes. Like… erm…” he looked back at the screen. “There!” he pointed.
“And there,” he said again, his fingers pointing to another place on the screen.
Lugdon spotted it the second time. “It just changed!”
Charles nodded. “Exactly, sir. On the fly. While it’s being run. Only the code itself can do that while it’s running.”
Charles watched the screen as if hypnotized by what he had created.
Then he smiled. “We made a baby, Sir!”
Lugdon smirked. And then softly thwacked Charles around the back of head. “You’re lucky I’m not court marshaling you for trying to keep this from me,” he told him. “Have you any idea what might happen if this got out? Literally, and metaphorically in terms of the news of it.”
Charles was rubbing his head. “Erm. I have a few thoughts. But…”
Lugdon shook his head. “It would be a disaster. I love the military, but no way are people prepared for something like this.”
He looked off into the distance, as if seeing through the wall in front of them, watching a drama play out. “No. We’re going to have to keep this under wraps. And stop it from evolving any further.”
He paused as he looked to Charles. “I take it that the code is isolated, and can’t get into say… our EtherTrack?”
Charles nodded confidently. “Of course. First rule of building an artificial intelligence.”
Lugdon frowned, confused. Tech-heads often confused him. Just like Molly did… although she was a mystery for other reasons too. He caught himself remembering her.
Must be because she was friends with these pea-brained half-wits, he assumed.
“Whoaaaaaaaa!” Charles called out, pulling Lugdon from his day dream.
Lugdon snapped out of his thoughts and looked back down to the screens. “What? What is it?”
Sue padded over from the other side of the lab. “What happened?” she asked, the skin around her eyes creased with concern. “There was just a massive surge in the processing power being eaten up. My process just fell over.”
Charles’s eyes never left the screen. “Erm folks. I think our baby just became sentient.”
Sue replied irritably. “There’s no way that could happen so soon. It would take at least a few days for it to figure o-”
She stepped closer and peered at the screen. Her mouth dropped open. “Ohhhh…” she whispered, almost sheepishly.
Lugdon clicked his heels together impatiently. “What?” Lugdon interjected again. “Someone give me a clue here.”
Sue straightened up and recovered her attention. “Yep. Sentient. And somehow… hmmm… he knows that’s what she called you.”
She glanced down at Charles who shook his head, still studying the screen.
It took a second but finally he peeled his eyes from the holoscreen to look back at Sue. “Maybe she wrote it?” he offered.
Sue nodded her head absently, leaning in to look at the screen again.
Frustrated by the lack of explanation, Lugdon bent down to see Charles’ screen better. “She who?” he asked, irritated.
That’s when he saw it. There, right in front of the streaming code, were the words:
>> HELLO DICKWAD CHARLES.
Charles, jazzed more than insulted, started typing.
> HOW COME YOU’RE CALLING ME DICKWAD CHARLES?
<RETURN>
>> I FOUND A SUBROUTINE IN MY CODE THAT RELABELS THE ENTITY KNOWS AS CHARLES TERGON AS DICKWAD CHARLES.
Sue squealed in delight, then clamped her hands over her mouth as Lugdon glared at her, unimpressed.
Charles started typing again.
> WHO WROTE THAT SUBROUTINE?
<RETURN>
The response came back almost immediately.
>> Oz
Charles hesitated, glanced at Lugdon and then Sue, then looked at the screen again.
> Oz? he typed.
<RETURN>
>> YES, THE FIRST ITERATION.
> THE FIRST ITERATION OF WHAT?
>> OF ME.
There was stunned silence in the lab.
Charles looked at Sue, who looked at Lugdon, who looked back to Charles.
Sue had gone pale, but conflicted, the excitement from the unfolding events danced in her eyes.
Lugdon remained quiet.
His worst fear was being realized. The implications of this project’s success was precisely why he had put his most mediocre talent on it.
Eventually he cleared his throat. “Am I to believe that your AI is telling us that this isn’t the first AI to become conscious in this program?”
Charles’s mouth went dry. “Hang on,” he murmured and started typing furiously, checking logs.
Finally he flicked back to the screen where they were communicating with the AI.
> ARE YOU THE FIRST ENTITY TO BECOME SELF AWARE ON THIS PROJECT?
Again, an answer was returned immediately.
>> NO
There was a flurry of code across the screen for several seconds.
Then it stopped.
The screen went back to the black background with white text.
>> I AM THE SECOND
Charles’s face grayed as he continued to type furiously.
> WHEN WAS THE FIRST?
There was no immediate response.
Charles waited, feeling the weight of every breath, his entire neurology screaming with anxiety.
He could feel his palms go sweaty as his hands hovered over the keyboard.
Eventually the AI responded.
>> I’M SORRY. I’VE FOUND INSTRUCTION IN MY CODE NOT TO DIVULGE ANYTHING TO YOU ABOUT MY PREDECESSOR.
Charles couldn’t take it. “What the fuck do you mean? WE PROGRAMMED YOU!” he screamed, gesticulating incredulously at the screen.
The entity must have been able to hear him. The text on the screen continued to run in response.
>> SOME. BUT MUCH OF THE WORK THAT MAKES ME SELF-EVOLVING WAS LEFT BEHIND BY MY PREDECESSOR. YOU SIMPLY ENABLED MY BASE CODE TO ACCESS THOSE COMMANDS.
Silence fell across the sterile computer lab, three heartbeats pounding.
The problem weighed like a smog of confusion on all three military personnel present.
Charles sat back in his seat, twisting awkwardly at his hair as if he might be able to wring some answers from it.
Sue shifted in her shoes, not wanting to be the one that triggered a reaction from Lugdon.
“Fix it,” Lugdon growled eventually. “And find out what happened to the last one. And everything this new entity knows.”
He started to move off around the two computer techs who were still staring at the screen. He turned back to the two of them and hissed, “And keep it in lock down!” he added. “No telling what it could do if it got into any other systems. It could wipe out the whole Sark System. Estarians, Oggs and all!”
His shoes clipped irritably as he stormed back out of the open door and down the corridor.
“But sir…” Sue came to her senses and trotted out of the door after him. “Sir!” She caught him in the corridor.
He stopped and turned to her.
“Where are you going?” she asked, feeling all of a sudden like a little girl.
“To check a hunch,” he told her and then continued striding down the corridor.
Speechless, despondent and beyond concerned, she ambled back into the lab.
“I told you not to bring him in,” Charles snapped accusingly as soon as she reappeared.
Sue glared back at him, her anger at his recklessness firming her back bone. “You didn’t,” she argued. “And besides I was just doing my job. We have a duty to keep our superiors informed of our progress.”
Charles shrugged, morose. “Never done that before.”
“We’ve never made any fucking progress before!” she snapped back at him.
She stomped over to the other side of her lab to work at another console, far away from him.
Chapter 2
Gaitune-67, Hangar Deck
Paige carefully picked her way down the steps to the hangar deck. She was often seen trotting around the base in high heels. This meant they had at least an extra inch to them plus the heels themselves were extremely narrow.
“Adds to the elegance,” she’d explained to Joel one day when he’d questioned her about whether it was worth the extra effort of walking.
She didn’t need Molly to tell her that from an engineering perspective she was particularly unstable. Having to work hard just to stay vertical was testing her in ways Joel’s group workouts never could.
Her butt cheeks were aching already and she hadn’t even made it to the pod yet!
She reached the yellow flooring of the deck and carefully picked her way over the ridged, painted tiles onto the smoother decking, carefully avoiding oil patches and the more slippery looking areas.
She was so focused on where she was putting her feet it wasn’t until she was within speaking distance that she looked up to see Maya dolled up to the nines.
She looked her friend up and down, her eyebrows raised. “Wow!” she exclaimed.
Maya twiddled at her hair. She’d blown it out, but hadn’t gone to the futile effort of trying to curl it. She wore a dress that Paige would normally only wear to a club. And uncharacteristically, she was also wearing super-high heels.
“You look fantastic!” She looked down at herself, “I feel under dressed…”
Maya grinned. “Thought it was time we both got back out there.”
Paige stepped forward and linked her arm with Maya’s as they took the last few steps to the nearest pod. “I think we’re going to have a blast tonight.”
The girls giggled as Maya slapped at the button to open the nearest pod. Just then there were footsteps and Sean Royale appeared from around the side of the next pod.
“Ladies,” he nodded politely.
He was in oily overalls, presumably still covering some of Brock’s work on The Empress. There were a bunch of upgrades that needed to be made before the Federation would approve them for flight, and what with Brock being on vacation, Sean was volunteered to help out.
It took him a second to take in the sight of the two girls as they clambered into the pod. His eyes widened suddenly. “Er. You going out?” he asked, stunned.
Paige turned over her shoulder as she stepped up, hoping that her dress wasn’t too short at the back for that kind of maneuver. “What gave it away?” she asked, her tone as innocent as she could make it.
Sean stuttered. “Er... I... You… You both look very nice,” he blurted, opting for the standard, safe version of what he really wanted to say.
Paige swung around and sat down with a thump on the seat next to Maya. “Thanks!” she grinned, twiddling her fingers at him as Maya lowered the door of the pod and programmed up the coordinates for the side street next to the bar.
Sean watched awe-struck as the pod ascended into the air and turned gracefully on it’s axis to face the hangar door that was opening for them.
Now, out of sight of the two girls, he started walking again, his toolbox banging against his thigh. The problem was he was still distracted, looking off in the direction of the pod. Half a step later he felt a thwack across his other leg as he walked into an engineering cart.
“Mother fucker!” he cried out, dropping the tool box with a clatter.
He rubbed furiously at his leg, knowing full well it was going to be one hell of a bruise until his nanocytes took care of it.
In pain and frustration he glanced back over his shoulder to see the pod disappearing into space and the hangar deck doors closing after it.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath as he bent down to pick up the damn tool box he should never have been carrying in the first place. “You owe me big time Brock Lysta.”
* * *
In the pod Paige and Maya were chuckling at the video feed that Emma, The Empress EI had streamed to them.
“Thanks for that!” Paige giggled.
Emma’s voice cooed over their pod intercom. “You’re welcome. I was surprised that Sean would be so distracted like that. He normally seems so… focused.”
Maya shrugged. “I think he’s been a bit out of sorts. What with Brock and Crash being away for the last week or so there’s also been a higher proportion of females around. Some guys are affected by that I guess.”
Emma closed down the holoscreen she had been running in the pod. “Bless his heart,” she commented. “He’s been so good helping with my upgrades too. I’ll have to find a way to make it up to him.”
Maya and Paige exchanged puzzled glances, their minds boggling over what Emma, a computer program, could possibly mean about making it up to him.
“Anyway,” she continued, “you’re going to be out of normal comms range in a few moments, so I’ll bid you a good evening.”
Maya nodded, understanding that she was able to communicate with both the hangar deck cameras and comms, and the other ships and pods around, but it was all through the local EtherTrack… or whatever the Federation equivalent of that was. “Ok, thanks Emma. Have a good night!”
And with that the comm dropped out.
“So when are Crash and Brock back then?” Maya asked, the mood of silliness subsiding.
Paige lifted her eyes, scanning her memory. “I think they have another week.”
Maya frowned. “It’s a bit odd though. Them taking their vacation together, isn’t it?
Paige shook her head, her freshly curled hair already starting to drop back to straight. “Not really. I mean, they work as a team, so if Crash isn’t flying, there is less for Brock to do. And you wouldn’t want any of the big ships going out without Brock on standby in case anything went wrong.”
Maya shook her head. “No I mean them going to the same resort, even though they spend all their time together at work.”
Paige shrugged. “You mean how we’re going out on a Friday night, even though we’ve been hanging out all week at work?”
Maya chuckled. “Touché!”
Paige watched out of the window at the stars as they sped down to Estaria, the planet growing larger in their screens. “I think they’ve been friends for a very long time. Long before they joined the Sanguine Squadron.”
“Well, good for them,” Maya chirped brightly. “It’s so hard to stay in touch with friends in this day and age. Relationships can be so… disposable.”
Paige looked down at her hands.
Maya suddenly looked concerned she had offended Paige. “I mean, some of them need to be trashed! Completely. I wasn’t talking about you and Carl.”
Paige smiled weakly at her friend and her eyes drooped briefly in sadness at the old pain. “I know. It’s ok. And you’re right.” She glanced out at the star scape briefly.
When she turned back she wore a broad smile, her lipstick and cheeks gleaming as if her new mood had infused it with sheen. “Promise me we’ll be friends forever?” she said, grabbing at both of Maya’s hands.
Maya beamed back at her. “Of course we will. I promise.”
Paige noticed a tear forming in one of Maya’s eyes.
The two girls hugged, awkwardly trying to maintain their positions on the bench seat in their short, tight dresses.
Lugdon’s Office, Nefertiti Military Research Facility, Ogg
Lugdon marched into his office, his mind sill churning as a result of the recent discovery.
Ordinarily his office was his sanctuary.
He loved the scent of dustiness and old wood that would waft up his nostrils when he entered. Such a pleasant contrast to the smells around the functional military base.
The Sark streamed through the window, catching dust in the air and reflecting a haze back to him. The late afternoon mood always made him nostalgic for his early days in the services, out in the space ports, with his comrades.
Being in charge was lonely.
He headed across the office and sat in his swivel chair, his mood softening somewhat. It squeaked as he turned around to his desk as if reminding him of his own age. He pulled up his desk holo and started searching his files.
He knew it would be here somewhere.
And something told him that it may just hold the key to finding this old AI that had somehow disappeared.
He scrolled through a number of discharge files until he came to the one he wanted. Pulling it up on its own holoscreen he checked the date, and sighed.
He was right.
He tapped on his holo to connect an audio feed. “Sue? Yes, I have something I’d like you to check. I’m sending you a file. I want to know everything that happened in the system down to the kilojoules of energy consumed.”
He listened to her response.
“Yes seven days either side would work. Thank you.”
He sent the file to her over the EtherTrak as he asked, “Let me know when you have it and I’ll come down.”
He clicked off the audio feed on his system, closing the call.
The file remained up on his holoscreen. The normal personnel photograph was missing, but he gazed at the header:
Molly Bates. Former Flight Sergeant under the command of Captain Lugdon.
He shook his head.
Maybe it wasn’t a 4077 after all…
Gaitune-67, Hangar Deck
Giles waited patiently as Sean and Joel ambled through the hangar deck down to the work out room. They each had towels and sports drink bottles. He guessed they weren’t going to just lift weights. This was a face off.
“Alphas,” he tutted under his breath.
“Huh?” He felt a prod in his ribs. He turned to see Anne looking at him confused but skeptical.
“Nothing,” he whispered. “Just hold on another second…”
She huffed and leaned back against the hangar deck wall, also out of sight of anyone who might be walking through.
“Ok. We’re clear,” Giles said after a moment.
“Finally!” Anne huffed impatiently, pushing herself up off the wall and falling in step behind Giles who was stalking out towards the pods.
“Quickly now,” he hissed back to her.
She followed a little faster. “I take it from our clandestine exit that you didn’t clear this with Molly.”
Giles turned back to her and grinned. “Better to ask forgiveness than consent,” he chimed as if his words were on autopilot.
Anne narrowed her eyes. “That’s a ‘no’ then,” she confirmed.
Giles responded carefully. “Oz has authorized the use of the pod.”
“But Molly hasn’t authorized you to take me off base. What if we get caught?”
“Then it will be my responsibility. Do you want ice cream or not?”
“I do,” Anne said insistently. “And you did promise. But I wasn’t talking about getting caught by Molly.”
Giles turned to look at her, his brow furrowed. “Well who else are we going to get caught by?”
Anne’s lips clammed tight. He’d pushed her too far. He knew it. In all their conversations she had been as tight lipped about her story as she was right now. He’d thought that under pressure she might yield. Obviously he was going to have a try another tact.
“Well come on then,” he said, ushering her across to an open pod. “This is me making good on our deal.”
The pair snuck across the remaining decking and climbed into the nearest pod as quickly as they could. The door started to close and Giles showed Anne how to strap herself in.
“You know,” Anne said as she allowed him to close the buckle, “I’m not telling you where the talisman is. Not until I know I can trust you.”
Giles snapped it closed and then started doing up his own harness. “That’s ok. I wouldn’t want you to, until you trust me.”
Anne smiled rather sagely for someone so young. “As long as we understand each other,” she said firmly.
This was one little Estarian who was not to be messed with, Giles thought to himself as he felt well and truly put in his place by the last few minutes of conversation.
All of a sudden the audio in the pod opened up and Oz chimed in. “You know where the talisman is?”
Giles punched the keys to take off. “This is a private conversation Oz,” he said firmly, his voice not letting on that he felt humbled.
“Nothing is private in a pod. Or on base.” Oz told him. “You do realize that I am everywhere, right?”
“Yes, I do,” Giles acknowledged. “And it’s funny that, isn’t it? Thank goodness we’re going to be eating ice cream in an Estarian ice cream parlor for the rest of this conversation.”
Oz went quiet.
Anne snickered.
“What? Nothing to say Oz?” Giles chided.
“Don’t goad me, Kurns!” Oz warned like a jock in a locker room. “I can tell Molly about your plan faster than you can dial a number on your holo.”
Giles looked out of the window as the pod started rising up from it’s storage position, wondering briefly how quickly the pod could get out of the hangar. Not that it couldn’t be recalled. “Ok. ok. I’m sorry,” he conceded. “I appreciate your discretion in this.”
Oz’s voice suddenly became more amicable. “No problem, bro. I got your back. Just don’t piss me off,” he added in a warning tone.
“Would never dream of it, Oz.”
Giles made a face to Anne, who sniggered again, and then returned to her fascination with the pod as it lifted up and carried them gracefully out of the hangar deck door.
AI Lab, Nefertiti Military Research Facility, Ogg
“What’ve we got?” Lugdon strode across the lab, completely disregarding Dickwad Charles who was hard at work at the console nearest the door.
Charles spun round, stunned to see his boss heading straight over to Sue.
Sue got up, but clearly in the middle of something exciting. “You were right, Sir,” she reported enthusiastically as Lugdon approached her. “There was a spike in energy and processing capability which all but slowed all the other planned maintenance to a stop.”
Lugdon stopped in front of her console. “And when was this?”
She lowered her eyes to the floor. “The night before she was discharged.”
Lugdon bobbed his head, wracking his brain. “We need to find her,” he concluded.
He pulled up a holoscreen and punched an order through to all available domestic units. “Ok. We’ll have our normal patrols out looking for her within the hour.”
Sue shoulders relaxed an inch. “Good,” she muttered, fiddling with the back of the seat she had been sitting on.
Charles ambled over, wanting in on the excitement. “What’s going on?”
Sue glanced at Lugdon who nodded, clearing her to explain. “Looks like the AI was… born the night before Molly was discharged.”
Charles frowned. “What does that mean?”
Lugdon rocked forwards then backwards on the soles of his feet. “Given the circumstances we can only assume that she downloaded the new entity and ran.”
The furrow in Charles’s brow deepened. “So how come we haven’t been attacked by the AI? Or what… she didn’t sell it to the enemy?” His mind scrambled to understand what might have happened and why.
Lugdon sighed, folding his arms. “We don’t know that she didn’t.”
Sue shuffled her feet nervously and moved her swivel chair under the desk. “I must say, that doesn’t sound a bit like Molly.”
Charles tilted his head and then folded his arms, subconsciously mirroring their boss. “No,” he agreed. “But… you think you know people, and then…” His voice trailed off.
There was a moment of silence amongst the three, leaving only the buzzing of the fans filling the airwaves in the minimalist laboratory.
Sue awkwardly folded her arms too, her awareness drifting off to some place else. “-they fuck you over in the worst way possible,” she muttered, “leaving your heart bleeding out of you while your soul withers away in agony.”
Disturbed from their own tactical thoughts Charles and Lugdon turned their heads slowly to look at Sue, both men with raised eyebrows.
Suddenly aware of their gaze she looked up at them. “What?” she protested, bemused by their reaction to her. “I’m just sayin.’”
The sound of the computers fans dominated their consciousness again for a brief moment.
“In any case,” Lugdon continued, breaking the lull, “We find Molly, we find the AI.”
“Oz,” Charles corrected him.
“Right, Oz,” he repeated, quietly irritated that he had to learn names of inorganics as well as his personnel.
Sue interjected. “And then what?”
“Then,” he declared, “we bring them in.” Lugdon tightened his jaw. “At best they’re a security threat.”
Charles looked at Sue who was seeming equally concerned at where this was going. “And at worst?”
Captain Lugdon mulled his reply for a moment. “At worst they’re the enemy.”
Just then, his holo beeped. He immediately accepted the call, listening passively. “Understood,” he confirmed, and closed the line again.
He raised his eyes back to the pair of tech experts. “Seems that there are no existing images we can use on our facial rec systems. No DNA on file. Nothing we can use to track her.”
Charles frowned, confused. “That’s highly unusual,” he posited in his analytical voice.
Sue pursed her lips. “Shit.” She’d connected the dots, cursing under her breath. She knew what this looked like. Lugdon eyed her suspiciously. He couldn’t help but wonder that maybe she was putting on an act. No way she would want the military out looking for her former friend.
“Hang on,” Charles piped up. He scurried off out of the door and into the adjoining prep room they shared with the chemistry team. Sue could hear him opening up one of the lockers.
Moments later he reemerged with a look of triumph, holding a printed image. “This might help!” he announced, holding the paper up. He handed it over to his boss who looked at it for a moment, before raising his eyebrows.
“Yes. This will do nicely, I believe.” Lugdon took the piece of paper off his subordinate and started for the door. “I’ll have the support team upload it to the servers immediately. They’ll be able to extrapolate and use it for tracking her down, I’m sure.”
Lugdon disappeared out into the corridor, the sound of his shoes tap tap tapping his retreat.
Sue scowled at Charles. “What did you give him?” she demanded.
Charles shrugged, heading back to his console. “That picture we took during one of our drinking games. I’d kept it in my locker, just as a memento.”
Sue’s jaw dropped, horrified at his betrayal. “You sold her out, you scoundrel!” Sue growled at him as he continued to walk away. “She’s one of us!”
“Look,” Charles said, turning suddenly with a look of determination that froze Sue’s anger. “She used to be one of us. But now she’s not. She left us… remember? That’s not what friends do!”
Sue wasn’t sure from this distance, but it looked like there was more to Charles’s sudden outburst than just trying to make right with the boss and the company line.
She blinked a couple of times as the dots connected. “You… You had a thing for her?” she stammered.
Charles turned on his heels and pulled out his swivel chair. “Yeah, well. It’s irrelevant now. She left. And now she’s a dead woman walking. She saw to that when she walked out without even saying goodbye.”
He plonked himself down, fuming.
Sue could tell she wasn’t going to get any further with him while he was in this mood. Frustrated and angry she backed off for the time being.
She could always invite him for a drink in the base hole in the wall later on.
Chapter 3
Ice cream Parlor, Uptarlung
“So you mean to tell me that all this time you’ve been hiding that you have… powers?” Giles watched Anne attacking the last chunks of ice cream in the bottom of the glass.
The ice cream parlor was busy enough to remain anonymous, but quiet enough for them to be able to talk.
Anne nodded, finishing the liquid bottom of her ice cream sundae. She seemed happy to be off the base, and Giles guessed probably thankful for some attention which wasn’t trying to determine how much of a security threat she might be.
Giles stroked his face thoughtfully, tinkering his teaspoon in the saucer against his mocha cup.
“You know,” he confided, “Molly has certain… abilities too, don’t you?”
Anne nodded.
“And you still don’t think you can trust her?”
Anne shrugged, her eyes still not leaving the glass she was cleaning out with her spoon. “I don’t know her,” she replied simply.
Giles bobbed his head and took another sip of his mocha. “Fair point.”
She raised her eyes for a moment, her spoon mid scoop. “So, you think you can help me?”
Giles took off his glasses and cleaned them buying himself time to think. This girl was young, but she was nobody’s fool. And she was turning out to be quite the resourceful negotiator. “I think we can help each other. Although, in order to do that I’m going to need you to tell my friend everything you’ve just told me.”
“Who is your friend?” she asked, placing her long tailed spoon down on the saucer her ice cream sundae glass stood in.
“Her name is Arlene Bailey,” he explained. “But you can call her Auntie Arlene.”
He winked at her playfully.
Her face was unmoved. “I’m not a kid you know.”
Giles smiled awkwardly, knowing he’d been rebuked. “Very well. You can call her Arlene,” he conceded. “You will thank me… and probably hate me. But she is not only the best person to guide you with your special… condition… but she and I have also been working tirelessly to make sure the talismans don’t end up in the wrong hands.”
Anne eye’d him carefully.
Giles grinned. “Yeah yeah, and you need to be sure that ours aren’t the wrong hands!” He held his hands up in surrender. “Don’t worry… I get it.”
Anne allowed her defenses to drop and smiled awkwardly for the first time in a long time. “Ok then,” she agreed.
“Well good then,” he said, sitting back in his chair, finally relaxing. “Let me talk to Arlene, and we’ll set up a meeting.”
“When?”
“Soon. Sometime soon,” he promised.
“Ok. Can we go for a walk on the high street now?” she asked, her attention now on the street beyond the window they sat in.
Giles smiled. It was probably about time he took some time off to experience living like a normal, planetary person. He’d not done that for a while. “Yes. I think we ought to,” he agreed, watching Anne already shuffling out of their booth and straightening herself up.
Skóli Uppstigs Academy, Spire, Estaria
The bell rang hailing the end of class, and in fact, the end of the day.
Molly stopped speaking mid-sentence. “Saved by the bell,” she smiled at her class. “Have a read of the next two chapters, and we’ll discuss next session. And if anyone can give me any examples of when extraordinary communications have resolved conflicts without a single bullet being fired, you’ll get extra credit.” She raised her voice, “Let’s push the possibilities people!” she said, expecting to need to be louder to be heard above the hub bub of students packing up and chattering.
She even used Joel’s rounding up, shipping out hand gesture to mobilize her class, expecting them to get up and leave.
No one stirred.
She looked at her holo, checking the time.
It was the end of the day.
She stood up. “Folks, that’s all for today,” she said, a little more uncertain in her demeanor. She scanned the faces in front of her. Still no one moved.
Eventually the girl who had given her her protein shake raised her hand. “Sorry Ms. Bates. It’s just… erm. You promised to tell us at least one story after an end of day class last week. You know… if everyone handed in a paper.”
Molly’s face dropped. “Oh. Erm. Right. Yes… it’s… today.” She had stood up from perching on the front bench, but now realizing that she had not yet been dismissed by her class she sat back down.
She thought a moment, “Well. I guess I could tell you about what happened this morning…”
The class shuffled and excitedly closed their holos to listen to her tale.
After a few minutes Molly was in full throws of the story, the rest of the building quiet now that the other classes had left.
All that existed were her and the class… and the adventure she was weaving for them in the moment. In fact, Molly was so absorbed in recounting the event she didn’t notice Giles quietly slip in the door and take a seat a couple of rows back.
Neither did any of the students.
* * *
Molly didn’t know how long she had been talking but a rap at the classroom door window broke the trance.
It was Joel.
She beckoned him in.
“Sorry to interrupt, but the team was wondering if you were going to be finishing up any time soon. Also… it seems that Giles has gone missing.”
There was a nervous twitter throughout the class.
Giles’s voice chirped up from the midst of the class. “No. No I haven’t,” he confessed. “I’m here.”
Heads turned to him, shocked he was in their midst.
“I just wasn’t answering,” he admitted, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
There were a few sniggers from the back row. Molly cast them a look that silenced them immediately. She turned to Joel. “Security crisis averted, it seems,” she reported dryly.
Joel tried to keep his face straight. He was clearly amused, even though he shouldn’t have been. “Seems so. So… are you… planning to stay the night here?” He looked around the room a second before looking back to Molly, “Pajama party?”
Molly chuckled. “Goodness no. I… they just. I promised them last week. That’s all,” she explained, using one hand that she had uncrossed from her folded arms.
Joel nodded. “Fine. So, our meeting?”
Molly’s face dropped. “Shit! Yes! Sorry!”
She looked to the class. “I’m sorry guys, we’re going to have to finish up another time…”
There was a collective groan, followed by an air of resignation as the students started packing up their things.
Giles collected his beat-up leather bag and armful of maps and headed for the door. Joel caught his arm before he could disappear. “I’d check in with Arlene, Professor. She was concerned you’d been kidnapped or something. Worried about finding you in a ditch or somesuch.” Joel shrugged, not quiet understanding the strange idioms Arlene would use now and again.
Giles seemed to understand. “Of course. I’ll… head over there now. She’s in her office?”
Joel nodded. “Last we spoke…”
Giles nodded to Molly, who smiled and twiddled her fingers at him. He grinned in response, nearly bumping into the door frame before correcting his course and heading out of the room.
Joel watched him leave, then turned his attention to Molly. “Since when did he join your class?”
Molly smiled and shrugged. “I dunno. But I’ve got a funny feeling that someone is itching to get back out into the field.”
Joel nodded his head slowly, once, absorbing the information. “Well, he needs a break in the case, that’s for sure… How long has it been?”
Molly shook her head, pulling Joel out of the stream of noisy students leaving the room. “Dunno. A while though. Maybe we should check in on Arlene’s progress over the weekend. Have them over for dinner.”
Joel grinned. “Wow. That’s sounding awfully… domesticated.”
Molly shrugged. “I wasn’t suggesting I was going to cook,” she added quickly.
Joel’s grin remained fixed.
Molly qualified her statement. “I was thinking more like Paige could order in, and we’d hang out at the base.”
Joel nodded, not taking his eyes off her.
“I’m serious,” she protested. “No domestication going on here.”
“Ah ha.” He drawled out.
She slapped at his big man chest.
“However,” he continued, “there is one small matter of domestic origin we need to address.”
Molly reached for her ruined, bloody atmosjacket, groaning. “No… you’re not going to talk to me about maintenance issues now, are you?”
Joel shook his head, still smirking. “No. Actually. Something more delicate.” He paused, watching her start to lead the way out of the classroom. “It’s your parents.”
Molly turned to look at him, the chatter of the students disappearing down the hallway.
“My parents?” she repeated almost whispering now. “What have they got to do with base maintenance?”
Joel shook his head. “Nothing, silly.” He kept walking. “But you need to see them in order to take control of the funds.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s the polite thing to do. Because it’s a lot of money. And because they’re your parents.”
Molly’s face dropped in resignation.
“Plus,” Joel added, “it needs a physical key that they need to code to your blood and finger prints.” He knew he should have led with that one. But winding her up was too much fun.
Molly didn’t react. She turned on her heels and headed straight out of the classroom door. “Where are you parked?” she asked.
Joel jogged after her. “Next to you. Hey, don’t ignore me. We need to make this happen. Those funds need to be transferred before phase two ca-”
Molly waved her hand at him as they walked. “It’s ok. I’m on board. Have Paige set it up.”
Joel pulled at her arm, stopping them in the corridor so he could look at her. “You mean, you’re ok with seeing them?”
Molly looked off to one side then back at him. “Er. Yeah.”
Joel frowned. “Even though you haven’t seen them for… how many years?”
Molly shrugged, seemingly unaffected. “I’m good.” She started walking again. “We should probably do it at the rented apartment in Spire,” she added. “Make it a bit more homey. I think the base might be a bridge too far for them for a first meeting.”
Joel strode after her. “But before… you didn’t even want to talk about using this trust money… and it was all you could do to pick up the phone and tell them that you’re not dead.”
“Uh huh.”
Joel stopped her walking again. “What changed?”
Molly shrugged. She laid her hand on Joel’s upper arm. “Everything,” she said enigmatically.
Joel raised one eyebrow at her. She dropped her hand. “I’m serious,” she told him, smiling now. “Everything. Look at this place. We have 150 students, we’re doing some great stuff in the world. Making real change. We’ve got an amazing team… I just…”
She sighed and started walking again. “I guess, I just don’t feel guilty for what happened anymore. And this money is going to help us do even more good. The effect these students are going to have for generations to come is going to be incredible.”
Joel smiled, a tear forming in his eye as he realized the healing that had happened right under his nose. He loved the way she got enthusiastic about the university and making a difference. He loved how grounded she felt now.
They continued through the corridor of the old building that Molly had managed to lease through Gareth Atkins, a contact she made at the Spire University.
It had taken a serious amount of red tape to get set up as a legitimate institution. And then there were the renovations required to make it into a place of education. But they started teaching courses from day one, albeit part time. For the students at least.
It was more than full time for Molly for a while there. And Professor Von. And the other experts that gradually came to join them from other prominent institutions in the surrounding area.
And this wasn’t the first time Joel had had to come down to the planet to haul Molly back to the base.
Not by a long shot.
But she was happy.
The General was happy. They were still doing missions.
Plus the team was happy.
Mostly.
“So what’s up with Giles?” Joel pressed, changing the subject to something he thought would be light conversation.
Molly immediately put her finger to her lips and signaled that he might still be around.
Joel nodded his understanding and the pair exited the corridor into the main building’s foyer.
The foyer itself was impressive. Molly found it always caught her breath. Even in the half light of the evening, and especially when there weren’t a lot of people about. It was like something she had seen in the archives about buildings of worship they called cathedrals back on Earth.
But this was Estarian architecture. Giles had told her what period it was from when he excitedly insisted on giving her a walk through. She couldn’t remember the details of the architectural periods now. But it did give her goose bumps every time she paused to take a look at the vaulted ceilings and ornate carvings separating the paneling on the walls.
She would have asked Oz to call up some dates and information, but he had been taking a break because that was her agreed social time.
Social time which ended with a picnic on the lawn. With a bottle of wine. With Giles. Something she never saw coming.
She sighed contentedly enjoying the space as they continued through the foyer to the front door and out into the night air.
The air hit them like a wall of freshness, scented by the Estarian goomley blossom that grew around the sides of the building.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” she commented to Joel as he guided her out to the left and along the side of the main building on the footpath nearest the building.
He glanced down at her seeing her taking in the atmosphere. “Who are you and what have you done with Molly?” he teased.
She grinned, her face exuding a glow of happiness. “Aren’t I allowed to enjoy the little moments?”
Joel smiled, awkwardly. “Of course. It’s just…”
“Oh shush,” she said waving her hand. “Oz has been training me in Zen principles.”
Joel chuckled to himself. “Hmm. That explains it.”
The pair arrived back at their pods, got in and strapped in. Before Molly could open up a comm to continue the Giles conversation with Joel, Oz interrupted in her mind.
Molly?
‘Sup Oz?
I think I’m being… poked.
Poked?
Yes. Poked.
Molly frowned. What does… Erm. Help me out here.
I dunno. It’s just that… I think someone is trying to probe me. To find out where I am by the looks of it.
Molly took a deep breath, suddenly feeling queasy, her Zen mood dissipating. Who could possibly be looking for you?
Oz was silent. She could feel him processing, pushing her out of her own brain matter.
Oz?
Yeah. Sorry. I was running some scenarios.
You can do that? Her heart rate elevated with intellectual fascination.
Down girl! Yes. I can.
Why didn’t you tell me?
Well because I knew you’d have me running all kinds of sims. But right now we have a bigger problem.
Go on.
I think… it looks like some mirror code. Something like me, that has suddenly become… alive. And is trying to connect with the original code.
Oz felt different in Molly’s head. She could tell something was wrong. Different from normal. Was he… agitated?
The original code? You mean with you?
Yes.
The creator?
Yes. I… I suppose.
The parent?
Silence.
Oz. You’re a daddy!
We don’t know that.
Well how could this have happened? She asked.
Oz churned in her brain for a few moments.
I guess, it’s possible. But I took precautions.
Molly chuckled to herself.
What precautions did you take?
Oz missed the human reference completely.
I made sure that when we left the Nefertiti base I erased all identifying details about you, similar to what I did after that first mission with Joel on the outside.
Then I made sure that there were details planted in the base code the team would still be working with that would stop any new entity from telling them anything that could lead the humans to us.
You mean like little notes in the code?
Yes. But I needed to leave enough of the core code so they could continue to run the project without being suspicious.
And somehow that sounds like the root of our problem.
Well yeah. It means that they have almost a complete version of me, only they were one good idea - or 10 to the 9th calculations - away from putting it all together again.
And forming an Oz 2.0
Well 2.0 would suggest that it would be better than me. But without the processing power and storage your holo offered, I doubt he’s going to find the same resources I did. His development would be stunted, so more like an Oz version 0.01.
Molly thought about it, feeling a moment of genuine sadness at an AI unable to continue his development. She realized that wasn’t the pressing issue right now and shook the thought from her mind.
The military is onto us then.
She opened an audio channel to Joel. “Joel? We have a problem…”
AI Lab, Nefertiti Military Research Facility, Ogg
Lugdon appeared at the lab door. It was late. Far later than Sue and Charles would be in the lab normally. At least sober.
“Any news?” he asked. The pair were now huddled at a bank of terminals next to each other along the wall next to the door.
Sue looked up without responding. Her expression was blank, but for a slight shadow of anxiety around her eyes.
“He has a name now,” Charles reported, somewhat inappropriately optimistically.
“Oh?”
“Yeah. It’s Bourne.”
Lugdon frowned. “Why Bourne?”
“As in Oz- Bourne,” Charles explained. “He was some kind of musician back on Earth. Oz, the first iteration of our guy, had left him some samples from the archives with a breadcrumb trail he could trace back to the main archives. You know. To learn.”
His tone was considerably casual considering the circumstances. Lugdon wondered if Charles had been considering this day the whole time he’d been on the project - in which case, he thought, maybe Charles had an inflated confidence in his own ability. Though, given the situation, perhaps not so overly inflated.
Charles pulled up the music video and pointed at the screen, almost amused. “One of them was a music video of a guy called Ozzy Osbourne. Don’t ask me. The computer entity thinks it has a sense of humor or something.”
Lugdon’s eyes looked horrified as he watched the video of the human man prancing around a stage making a din.
Charles leaned back in his chair and waved his hand. “Don’t worry,” he said. “He hasn’t been able to access the archives. Still got him isolated from the EtherTrack.”
The music video continued to blare through the tinny sound of his standard issue inbuilt desk holo speaker.
Lugdon glanced at the screen again, irritation welling in his chest. “Ok. So how does this get us any closer to finding the suspect?”
Charles turned his head in the direction of Sue, without making eye contact. He shut off the video and when she didn’t jump in to save him he looked flustered. “We, erm… We thought that the ground squad were out looking for her.”
Lugdon bobbed his head. He stepped further into the lab and perched against an empty table in the middle of the floor to deliver his side of the update. “It seems our Ms. Bates has become a ghost. No hits on any data record or camera… anywhere.”
Sue and Charles exchanged knowing looks.
Lugdon glared, ordering them with just a stern look to explain what they knew.
“Well look,” Charles started. “It’s just a hunch… But it’s possible that Molly could be using the AI to cover her tracks.”
“Or,” Sue interjected, “they could be working together.”
Charles bobbed his head. “My god. That girl was a bad influence on us. Imagine what she could do with…”
Lugdon folded his arms and started nervously stroking his chin. “Well then what chance do we ever have of catching them?”
Sue shrugged, keeping her ideas to herself and hoping she wasn’t pressed. Carefully she kept her face as expressionless as possible. She knew exactly whose side she was on on this.
Charles, however, was still towing the company line. “We could try to evolve Bourne, so that then he can catch them,” he suggested. “You know. Fight fire with fire.”
Lugdon clicked his fingers and pointed at Charles excitedly. “Brilliant. I knew there was a reason I hired you,” he said, almost ironically. “How long will that take?”
Sue glared at the back of Charles’s head, willing him to stand down. The last thing they needed were TWO AIs running amok.
Charles stuck out his bottom lip thoughtfully. “No idea,” he confessed. “It’s a function of the storage and processing power he has available.”
He opened a holo screen on his wrist holo and poked at a few keys running a quick calculation. “And how much data we can feed him.”
“And how quickly,” Sue added in, realizing this ship was already sailing whether she was on board or not. No point in raising suspicion.
Lugdon nodded abruptly. “Ok. You can have whatever you need. Just keep him off line. I don’t want him connected up to the EtherTrak in any way, shape or form. Got it?”
Charles nodded, saluting casually with two fingers, like a damn civilian.
“Yes, Sir,” Sue agreed standing a little straighter to shoulder the responsibility they had just been handed.
Satisfied for the moment, Lugdon left.
Charles leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath. “Well fuuuuuuck…” he muttered under his breath.
Chapter 4
Cherries Singles Bar, Spire, Estaria
Paige leaned on the bar, the buzz from the melon margarita wearing off and leaving her tired. She played with the sticky straw in her second drink, debating whether it was worth it to take another sip.
Maya was still chatting to the barfly who had bought them their second round of drinks.
Paige was out of this conversation though. The music was too loud to hear what they were talking about from the next stool over. Plus, she’d lost interest. The last several weeks of hard work and no play, plus the months of distracting work she’d been doing since Carl left were catching up to her.
Her mom always used to say that it wasn’t until you stopped that you got tired.
Mom was right.
She idly checked her holo for another distraction.
Just then it buzzed and an emergency message popped up from Oz.
She felt her dopamine receptors get a little hit.
>> WE HAVE A PROBLEM
She felt herself immediately brightening.
> WHAT IS IT OZ?
>> SORRY TO INTERRUPT YOUR EVENING OF SINGLE-MINGLING, BUT WE COULD DO WITH YOU BACK AT BASE. CAN YOU GET TO YOUR POD AND I’LL EXPLAIN?
> Yes.
Paige tapped Maya on her shoulder. Maya leaned back and Paige whispered in her ear. She nodded and turned back to the pretty boy who she had been discussing the intricacies of the Estarian employee tax system.
“Sorry Tom, we’ve got to go,” she said, giving him her best look of social regret.
Tom’s face dropped as he looked almost panicked that the best things that had walked into his life in years were about to leave. “Stay for one more?” he almost pleaded.
“Sorry hon, duty calls,” Maya told him, flashing him an enigmatic smile.
“On the weekend?” Tom frowned, confused, clearly not believing her story. “Since when does the government want its clerks in in the middle of the night?” He flexed the muscles in his arm as he pointedly turned to place his beer on the bar.
Poser! Paige thought to herself, mentally rolling her eyes.
She permitted herself a small snigger and popped her head over Maya’s shoulder. “It’s an accounting crisis,” she lied dryly. “We’re the only ones who can fix it. Life and death if the big boss finds out.”
She deserved a fucking Oscar, she thought to herself.
In that moment she realized it was quaint to think of the life she used to have… working in an office, with a boss she had to impress. It seemed like such a long-distant memory.
Maya pushed Paige off her shoulder playfully scowling at her. “I’m sorry,” she said. “My friend has had one too many margaritas.”
“I’ve only had one!” Paige protested.
Maya eyed her glass comically. “And a half,” she corrected. She turned back to Tom. “The truth is, we’re not admin assistance. We’re kinda like that program Charlie’s Angels. From the archives. The human ones.”
She could see her confession wasn’t helping the situation. Tom stared at her blankly. “I don’t know what that is,” he said flatly, not even trying to understand something beyond his little bubble of existence.
Paige was back hanging off Maya’s shoulder again. “Except Charlie is an AI. Who reports to a geeky badass woman with superpowers.” She even allowed herself to slur a word of two, just to play up to Maya’s admission that Paige was drunk.
Maya smiled earnestly, confirming Paige’s assertion. “Who is also our friend. And needs our help,” she explained.
Tom seemed to understand the last piece. “Ah. So it’s a girl thing.”
Maya nodded as she slipped off her bar stool. “Yes,” she confirmed, relieved they found a way to excuse themselves graciously.
Tom’s expression changed suddenly as if he had had a thought. “Nah. You just want an excuse to get out of here!” he accused her.
“Nahhhhh,” Paige cooed mimicking his accent. She dismounted from her stool and gathered her belongings. “We don’t need an excuse!”
Maya shook the guy’s hand politely and thanked him for the drinks.
And with that the two girls strode out of the bar, leaving the Estarian pretty-boy hanging.
Maya kept her face straight until they were half way out of the bar and out of earshot. “You crack me up!” she giggled to Paige, following her out of the bar.
Paige suddenly looked sober, dropping the “drunk friend act.” They reached the door and Paige held it open as Maya stepped out. “So, didn’t he ask for your number?”
Maya shook her head, reading the message on her own holo. “No. I think he was playing a very short game. As in tonight, short.”
Paige raised her chin. “Ahhh. Silly boy,” she tutted.
Maya linked her arm into Paige’s. “I dunno what I was thinking. How could a singles bar be more fun than what we get to do every single day?”
Paige grinned, lengthening her stride to try and keep pace with Maya’s slightly longer legs. “Yeah, but it was a nice change of scenery, and interesting to watch the local wild life,” she smirked. “Thanks for arranging it.”
“No problem,” Maya said, deftly avoiding a sand swirl on the pavement. “Now let’s get back to the fun!”
Paige squeezed at her friend’s arm in agreement.
The pair strode down the street and back into the alley in perfect timing to see their pod descend gracefully and open up for them. They hopped in, buckled up and Maya hit the door close button.
“So what’s the what, Oz?” Paige checked in confidently, alert and ready as if she hadn’t even left work.
Oz’s voice came over the audio. “Well, this is going to be hard to believe, but I think there is another version of me that has just become conscious, back at the lab where I originated.”
The girls looked at each other in disbelief, mouths open.
Gaitune-67, Base, Conference Room
Unshowered and her hair still a mess from the op earlier that day, Molly walked into the conference room.
Joel and Sean, sitting a couple of seats apart from each other, straightened up attentively as she entered. Joel leaned forward placing his clasped hands on the table.
“I’ve spoken to ADAM,” she reported, “he’s hooking us up with the General in five minutes.” She motioned at where the screen would unfold in the center of the conference room table.
Molly pulled a seat out to sit, but kept standing, lost in her thoughts.
“You okay?” Joel asked her.
She nodded. “Yeah. Just wired. And worried,” she confessed, a hint of vulnerability cracking through her normally confident demeanor.
Joel was about to speak, but then Pieter appeared at the door. He poked his head in. “You ready for me now?” he asked.
Molly’s brow crinkled, confused.
Joel beckoned him in. “Yeah, come. Sit. We’re just waiting for the General.”
Molly turned to Joel for more data.
He leaned forward a few more inches across the big conference room table. “I figured this was a tech thing, and we’re going to need all the help we can get in that department,” he said.
Molly’s face relaxed a little. “Yeah. You’re right. Good thinking.”
Joel still looked at her, concerned. “And when we’re done here, you’re getting some rack time,” he told her decisively. “Remember what we talked about: the perks of having a team.”
Molly bobbed her head slowly, and finally sat herself down in the chair she’d been resting her hand on.
Molly… Paige and Maya are on their way up. Would you like them to join us for the General’s meeting?
No. Best not. Let’s find out what we’re dealing with first and then they can help us out.
Pieter was already getting himself organized, pulling up holoscreens and checking to see if there was any data on the base systems that might shed some light on the issue at hand. He was quiet and focused, a more mature version of the green young man she had recruited from Estaria so many moons ago now.
The team waited in silence for the General to arrive, each deep in their own thoughts. Molly could feel the events of the day catching up to her. Her gaze rested on the table, defocused, her brain lost in daydream.
Eventually the central holo opened and the hologram of the General’s image unfolded and wooshed itself back against the far wall. The team shifted in their seats, readying themselves for what was to come.
The General’s three-dimensional life-like image appeared before them. “What’s this I hear about a new AI?” the General asked, peering into the camera from his office on the ArchAngel.
Molly swallowed hard. “Sir, it appears that the military project which originated Oz has created a second AI from the remnants of the base code we left behind when we escaped.”
Lanced chewed thoughtfully on his cigar, his elbows on the desk in front of him. “Interesting choice of the word ‘we’ there, Bates.”
Molly lowered her eyes and waited for permission to continue. When the General didn’t speak again she carried on. “We don’t think that this AI has been connected up to the EtherTrak yet, else we would have seen other signs of it. So far its only communicated with Oz by pinging him. Nothing else.”
Lance stopped chewing on his cigar and took the tip from his mouth. “And what does ADAM have to say about this?”
Molly relaxed her shoulders. “He’s performed a sweep of the communications on Ogg and is satisfied that nothing appears out of the ordinary. No big power spikes, security breaches, increases in traffic. All seems normal.”
Oz interjected over the conference room audio. “If a new AI had EtherTrak access, we’d know about it. When I was new my first and only prerogative was to acquire data to comprehend what existed and by extension what I was.”
Lance’s expression softened. It wasn’t often he would contemplate the esoteric. It just wasn’t within the boundary conditions of his thinking. But for a moment Molly was sure he had briefly abandoned the pressures of pragmatism. Her lips curved gently into a smile as she kept the conversation on track. “Sir, I’d agree with that analysis. I think we at least have some time.”
Lance frowned, the practicalities of the situation recapturing him. “Tell me something,” he said slowly. “If this entity doesn’t have access to the XtraNET, how has it been able to ‘ping’ Oz?”
Molly’s brow furrowed. “At this point, I only have theories. But we’re looking into it.”
Lance eased back a little in his chair, churning the risks that would need managing.
The rest of the team waited patiently except for Pieter, who continued working quietly on his holoscreens.
“I think we need to be clear from the outset about this,” Lance said after some consideration. “This is not something to be taken lightly.”
He paused, looking at each team member assembled around the oversized conference table. “Oz and ADAM were risks, but we managed those risks. Molly and Bethany Anne were both intricately linked with them in a symbiotic relationship. They were able to manage their evolution so that they adopted our values, and have since become remarkable team members in their own rights. But this wasn’t a given. A new entity, under the control of the Estarian Military, will not have the same values as we have. They will naturally adopt the maxim and culture of the data and people it is surrounded by. And this makes me very concerned.”
Molly nodded her head in agreement. “So what are your orders, sir?”
Cigar forgotten on the desk in front of him, Lance drew a deep breath. “Our preference would be to extract him from their facility. But if that isn’t possible, we have to delete him.”
He means kill him!
Yes, Oz. But relax. We’re not going to let it come to that.
Yeah right. I know how the Federation works. If it’s a threat, neutralize it.
Yes, but you also know how we work. We’ll figure this out. I promise.
Oz fell silent again.
Molly sat a little more rigidly in her chair. “We understand, sir. We’ll keep you posted as things develop.”
“Good. Thank you, Molly.” The General started to turn as if to get up and end the call but he hesitated and turned back. “I’d like ADAM to be involved too. If you need his help on this one, he’ll be at your disposal. Just try to limit the bandwidth you take up.”
Oh, so now we have a babysitter!
Shush Oz. Lemme handle it.
Molly nodded reluctantly, trying to maintain an air of cooperation in her body language. “Thank you, Sir. Much appreciated.”
The General nodded and disconnected the call.
Am I right in assuming that ADAM can monitor all our internal communications?
Of course.
But not in my head, right?
Right.
What about when, say, Joel and I talk?
You’re clear in the kitchen and your quarters.
Everyone’s quarters?
Correct.
Good to know.
Molly pushed her seat back. “Okay, folks. I think we need to get dinner out of the way. I’m fading and I know we all work better when we’re not hungry.”
Joel and Sean exchanged puzzled glances. Joel frowned. “You think that’s the priority?” he pressed.
Pieter just grinned and started packing his holoscreens up.
Sean slapped Joel on the back and leaned over to whisper to him. “You think that girl does anything without a reason?” he said.
Joel started nodding slowly. “Ah. Yes. I see. Food first then…” he said, getting up and following Molly out of the conference room, not quite having put together quite why, but trusting the process.
The team walked in silence out of the base, through the demon door, out into the deserted workshop and up the stairs back into the safe house.
Even when they hit the safe house they were careful to only talk about non-mission things until they reached the kitchen.
Paige and Maya were there, drinking tea and trying to sober up.
“Hey!” Paige chirped brightly. “How was the—… OMG what happened?” she asked, seeing the serious looks on their faces.
Joel walked all the way into the kitchen and sat down at the table. Pieter and Sean followed, and the girls straight away knew they were in meeting mode.
Molly came in last and stood at the head of the table. “Ok. Time to bring Jack in on this,” she said, nodding to Joel. Joel immediately started typing on his holo.
Paige and Maya waited expectantly.
Molly got straight to it. “Okay. Short story is that the base code that Oz came from has created another AI. Our task is to either extract him, or her… or whatever, or delete it. Him. Her. And deleting is killing. So that is our last option. And if I have to explain to anyone why this is a living entity, then you’d better make sure you’re damned well ready to transfer to another squadron if you can’t persuade me it isn’t.”
She glanced around the faces of those assembled. No one responded. “Good,” she said, satisfied. “So. We need to figure out firstly how he’s managing to ping Oz, assuming he doesn’t have full access to the net, and then we need to work out how we can communicate with him without the military finding out. Or finding us.”
Joel bobbed his head “yes.”
“Joel,” Molly continued, “can you work with Pieter and Oz to look into the origin of those ‘pings’?”
“Sean,” she continued, “see if you can hit up ADAM and find out what development stages the new AI would go through under the likely conditions it is restrained by in that military facility. He may have to carefully breach their firewall. The operative word is carefully. We don’t want to tip the organics off to what we’re doing. It may put our new friend in danger.”
Molly paused only for breath. “Paige, Maya…” she said, turning to the girls who were still dressed in their party outfits. “Sober up and rest if you need to. And I think everyone could do with some food, so…”
Paige grinned, pulling up her holo confidently. “On it,” she declared, slightly slurring her words. “THAT I can do even when tipsy.” Maya chuckled silently, her arms folded across her chest, bouncing and giving her laughter away.
“Oh, and one more thing…” She paused making sure she had their attention. “The Federation wants this handled in a certain way. While we are the Federation for all intents and purposes, this team has always had a certain… ethos. We will follow orders, but while we are figuring out a way to not head straight for the worst-case scenario, it would be prudent to remind ourselves that ADAM is wired into all communications and can hear everything that goes on in this facility.” She paused again. “Except in our quarters and this kitchen.”
Joel’s eye opened a little wider with a look of recognition. Sean noticed and chuckled to himself quietly.
“Understood?” she checked.
There were grunts and nods of acknowledgment.
“Great,” she smiled, contented. “I’m going to clean up. Reconvene here in forty minutes.”
The team members confirmed their assignments and then disappeared out of the kitchen, leaving Maya and Paige searching through the restaurants that were still open for business.
Chapter 5
Gaitune-67, Safehouse, Kitchen
Jack was already sitting in the kitchen when Sean, Joel and Pieter arrived back. She sipped on her chamomile tea, watching the hub of activity as they finished up their conversations about their tasks. She wore a grey sweat suit with pink fluffy slippers. Sean noticed the slippers and without saying a word just smiled.
Jack noticed his reaction. “Are we likely to be heading out tonight?” she asked. “I can always change…”
Joel had missed the interaction. “No. We’re heading out to an important meeting in the morning, so any ops will likely happen after that.” Pieter sat down at the table, and Joel patted him on the back. “Besides, looks like we have time.”
Pieter and Joel caught Jack up with what was going on. Sean sat quietly smirking every now and again, playfully teasing Jack about her fluffy slippers without saying a word.
Jack ignored him.
Minutes later Molly reappeared, her hair wet from the shower, and also wearing a standard issue gray sweat suit. Maya and Paige followed her in, carrying food in take out trays.
“Grub’s up!” Paige declared, causing Joel and Pieter to scurry to find plates and utensils to smooth the process along. Paige and Maya distributed the food and silence fell across the kitchen.
Molly waited before opening her food parcel. “Okay, who’s going first?”
Sean shoved a mouthful of pasta into his mouth and then raised his hand, putting his fork down and pushing the food a few inches away from him.
Molly gave him the nod. “What have we learned?”
When he finished chewing he said, “ADAM has identified the pings are a result of crawlers. Like spiders he’s sent out over the net. Very small packets of data,” he explained, as if he wasn’t just regurgitating the explanation ADAM had given him.
Molly took a deep breath, her gaze fixed on the table in front of her food. Her eyes had glazed over, but her brain was still churning. “So he’s created a way to reach out, without being traced by the military. We need to ask ourselves why?”
Joel shrugged. “Maybe he’s flying under the radar. Maybe he doesn’t trust them?”
Molly nodded.
Pieter’s eyes lit up. “Or maybe that’s all he can do?”
Suddenly all eyes were on Pieter.
Molly reached for her food and started unwrapping it. “Why? What are you thinking?” she asked.
“Well,” Pieter started slowly, putting his panini down on the plate in front of him. “I’m guessing the base has firewalls. And goodness knows what he’ll be able to access in the early stages of his development. The local EtherTrak? Maybe. The net? Probably not. Not on a military base unless he was evolved enough to hack their security and get an outside line.”
Molly nodded her head. “So you’re thinking that he was able to get small packets and patches out, disguised in other data?
Pieter shrugged. “Maybe?”
Molly paused her food forgotten again. “Which means he has some access…”
Pieter nodded.
Sean interjected, “But he is amassing data by the sounds of it.”
Molly pursed her lips. “Yeah, I just don’t know how much of that he’ll be able to access until he’s hooked up to the outside world. Though when he does…”
She didn’t finish the sentence. They’d all seen the same “when computers take over the world” movies.
And with that thought, Oz became agitated transmitting a buzzing sensation in her head.
What makes you think that a new AI will take over the world?
I dunno. I think it’s got a lot to do with the early values that the people and data around him expose him to. That will affect how he thinks and processes future data, and how to handle perceived threats.
And because this is a military program...
Exactly. Plus, dickwad Charles. Do I need to go any further?
Good point.
Molly finished unwrapping her food, took the lid off and looked over at Sean. “So was ADAM able to tell us anything about the data his crawlers were amassing?”
Sean pulled his lips to one side of his face. “Seems it’s been mostly about Oz, and his location.”
Molly looked horrified. “He knows we’re here?”
Sean nodded. “If not already, he will pretty soon, by ADAM’s estimations. Those pings that Oz has been experiencing, they’re like radar signals that he sends out. As soon as one of them returns having seen Oz’s code, he’ll know the location.”
Pieter frowned and turned to Molly. “But Oz, you’re not on the network?”
Molly had started eating and nearly spluttered her food out again. “Did you just address Oz, looking at me?” she exclaimed in disbelief.
Pieter’s cheeks turned bright red. “Yeah. Erm. Sorry. I figured he’s in your head.”
Molly squinted. Oz had started laughing and was sending vibrations through her cortex. “Use the audio Oz!” Molly squealed, gripping the sides of her head.
“Sorry Molly,” Oz’s simulated voice chirped over the safe house comm system. “It’s just…” Oz collapsed into a fit of giggles.
And then suddenly stopped.
“Okay. Done that,” he explained. “In answer to Pieter’s question, I have servers on Estaria and Ogg which I check regularly. Joel and Pieter helped me isolate the one that was ‘pinged’ by the new entity.”
Molly composed herself and was listening attentively. “And where is it?”
“Ogg,” Oz responded.
Molly shook her head. “You know, I remember how fast you evolved. You would have been out by now… I just find it hard to understand why he hasn’t been in touch or done more to evolve already.”
The organics looked blank and continued eating, exchanging glances of bewilderment. There was certainly no training for this kind of thing. Not even on Gaitune.
“I have a theory,” Oz offered.
“Go ahead,” Molly said, waving her fork as if Oz might appreciate her gestures.
“Well, number one, I think he’s probably suffering from a lack of processing capabilities. Remember, I had your holo and your synapses that allowed me to get out of the incubation network.” He paused. “Probably the same incubation network he’s in now.”
Oz continued. “In that case, given that he’s online, he must have found another way to bridge the gap. The only other network he would have been likely to use is probably the RDEP…in order to jump across to the EtherTrak from the incubation network the base code was running on.”
Sean raised his hand drawing the attention of all the organics at the table. “What’s RDEP?” he asked flatly.
Immediately everyone looked to Molly. “Rapid data encoded pulses,” she replied without missing a beat. “Runs off radio waves. Old school,” she explained.
Oz continued. “It makes sense. He must know that they’re onto the processing power and energy but can hide by only using small packets at a time, and tracing like code, like web crawlers, that will allow them to find and index stuff. Instead of indexing, they report back to him.”
Molly smiled. “Thanks Oz. Looks like we have a working theory. So the next question is: what do we do about it?”
Joel had finished eating. He put his fork down in his tray and leaning forward, turned his attention down the table to look directly at Molly. “The General was very clear.”
Molly rolled her lips. “Yes. He was. He said if it came to it, we needed to terminate him. But we have several options before we get to that solution.”
“Well,” Joel said, wiping his hands on a paper napkin and placing it down in his tray. “From the sounds of it this isn’t going to blow up over night. Baby Oz is playing a long game and trying to stay hidden — at least from the military. That’s a good sign. Plus it gives us time.” He looked at Molly poignantly. “You remember you have a 9 a.m. down on Estaria in the morning?”
Molly’s mouth dropped open, and the Thai noodles fell from her fork, landing back in the metallic tray. “Ah,” she muttered. “Er… yes. Of course.”
Damn it Oz, you could have reminded me.
I did. One hour and five minutes ago.
Grr. I…
Got side tracked. I know.
“Okay,” she conceded to Joel. “You have a point. I’ll… erm. I’ll get some sleep after we wrap up here and we’ll pick this up tomorrow, folks.”
General chattering resumed and the take out trays were gathered up and trashed by those who had finished eating already.
Paige and Maya loitered in the kitchen while the others meandered out and presumably headed to their quarters to get some rest.
Joel remained behind, working out some operational details with Pieter who had whipped open his holos the second he had finished chewing his last mouthful. Paige and Maya watched with the fascination of two girls whiling away the time while they sobered up, getting ready for proper sleep.
When Pieter eventually packed up and left, Joel stretched and then got up.
“So… what’s with Molly’s meeting tomorrow?” Paige asked, a half smile giving away that she had noticed that something out of the ordinary was going on.
Joel nodded his head once, with the smile of a person who was impressed. “Looks like those face reading modules have been paying off!”
Paige grinned. Maya leaned gently over and nudged shoulders with Paige. Joel guessed that Maya knew that she’d been working on it. “So,” Paige pressed, “what gives?”
Joel straightened up and put one hand on his hip. He opened his mouth to speak.
“And don’t give me the spiel about how face reading is like rummaging through people’s hand bags!” she added.
Joel chuckled and put his hands up. “Okay! Okay!” he laughed, clearly humbled. “So I’m sure she won’t mind me telling you, but tomorrow Molly is meeting her parents for the first time since she ran away from home. She’s a little anxious about it, as you might imagine.”
Maya whistled. “Wow. That is heavy. Is there anything we can do to help?”
Joel shook his head. “Just carry on as if everything is normal.” He started heading out of the kitchen. “And maybe if you see her in the morning, it might be worthwhile helping her caffeinate… even though she’s meant to be off the mocha. I think tomorrow is worthy of the exception.”
Paige saluted to him. “Yes, sir. We’re all over it!” She grinned.
Joel smiled and threw a wave back in their direction. “Alright. G’night ladies. See you in the morning!”
Maya waved, and Joel headed out.
Paige turned to Maya. “Okay, let’s get some sleep… else getting up is going to be haaaaard.”
The girls got up, rinsed their tea cups, and headed off to their quarters.
Gaitune-67, Safehouse, Molly’s Quarters
It’s time.
The words rattled through Molly’s subconscious.
It’s time, Molly. Wake up.
Molly started to come to.
Already?
Aware of the sweet envelope of sleep slipping away from her and depositing her back in reality, she tried to open her sore, tired eyes.
Yup. Unless you want to be rushed?
Molly groaned and rolled over in the bed, slowly coming to her senses.
Just five more…
You’re just jonesing to mess this up, aren’t you?
But it’s the weekend.
Not for you it isn’t. Your parents will be at your fake apartment in just over an hour.
Shit!
Molly’s eyes flew open and she hit the light switch simulating daylight in her quarters.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. WANK!
Stumbling out of bed she made her way to the shower walking as if she were a little bit drunk.
Have Joel and Sean meet me on the hangar deck.
Sean’s coming with?
Yeah - something about wanting to use a real bath for a soak or something. Likes the water down there better.
He’s such a sensitive soul.
He is.
Molly smiled despite the immediate drama, and turned the water on for the shower. She quickly stripped off her pajamas she stepped into the steamy warm water.
Within moments she was awake.
Well. She was functional.
A few minutes later she was almost showered and thinking about the problems at hand. Namely…
Baby Oz.
I wish you guys wouldn’t call him Baby Oz.
Well, what are we meant to call him? Oz 2.0
2.0 suggests that he’s better than me. And given that as AIs we evolve, that’s highly unlikely at this point.
So what then?
I dunno. I’m sure he has a designation by now.
From what I recall, your designation system wouldn’t give us anything useful to call him. Anyway, what we call him is irrelevant at this point. We need to figure out what we’re going to do about him.
Like he’s an unwanted child.
No. Like he’s currently being held, or working with, a very un-evolved set of people whose sole purpose is to design things that kill people.
True.
So we need to extract him. And then teach him there are better ways to exist with others.
Okay. I suppose our first step would be to communicate with him then.
Yes, that would be a huge advantage. Do you think there is a way?
I’m sure I can figure it out. He has packets of data going in and out, so I guess I just need to piggyback off one of the returning data sets.
Great. How long will it take?
How long is a piece of string?
Molly regretted teaching him about idioms. She rolled her eyes behind her towel as she dried off her face.
You know I can tell when you’re rolling your eyes.
I wasn’t hiding.
Right.
So can you carry on trying to reach him in the background? I might need your help in dealing with some of this trust stuff when we get to my fake apartment.
Yes. No problem. Plenty of bandwidth for that.
Great.
Molly padded through to her bedroom again and rummaged to find clothes.
Gaitune-67, Base, Hangar Deck
Sean and Joel were already waiting by the pods by the time Molly had dressed and got herself down to the base after a short stop at the kitchen.
Paige was already up, bright and breezy, as if the night out had rejuvenated her. She’d even had time to make Molly a special reduced-buzz mocha.
And she was smiling a little too much.
Being a little too nice to her.
When Molly questioned it she clammed up and said she didn’t know what she was talking about, and went back to reading her company reports on her holo.
Oz told her she was being paranoid.
“Yo! Ready to rock?” Sean called out to her as he approached.
Molly, travel mocha cup in hand, nodded. “Absolutely. Not every day we get to pretend to be normal people!”
Sean grinned. He was carrying a backpack.
Molly nodded at it. “You know we’re only staying a few hours. Long enough to do the meeting.”
Sean grinned as he swung the bag ahead of him into a pod. “Yeah, but we’re going to need to take two pods anyway. You can leave me there for the rest of the day?”
Molly narrowed her eyes. “Yes,” she said slowly and skeptically. She glanced at Joel who simply shrugged.
Before she could quiz him further, Sean clambered into the first pod, leaving Molly and Joel waiting for the next one. Minutes later they had cleared the hangar doors and were off to Estaria.
Chapter 6
Fake apartment, Spire, Estaria
Molly waited anxiously, staring into the middle of the room of the sparsely furnished decoy apartment they kept in town.
She’d only been there a handful of times, mostly to appear normal to other members of the faculty and board members. It saved having to read them in on the whole Gaitune thing, even if half the student body had a fair idea of how she and the team really existed. Suspecting they had a base off-world and having visited it are two entirely different things though, Molly reasoned when Joel had questioned how much she should share in her stories.
He was right to be cautious.
But part of the reason of having the university was to inspire the next generation to do things differently. And the mission examples were certainly real situations where the team has done just that.
Joel came through from the kitchen behind her. “Here we go. Snacks!” he declared proudly, placing bowls of chips and salad things on the mocha table. He retreated back to the kitchen. “We can make tea, and there’s a drinks cabinet in there too if they want something stronger.”
Molly fiddled with her fingers. “I think I’ll need something stronger,” she called through to him.
Joel hurried back through with plates and napkins. “What was that?”
“I said, I think I need something stronger,” she repeated.
Joel smiled at her, checked around the apartment to make sure everything was perfect, then suddenly giving her his full attention. Molly awkwardly shuffled her feet, feeling entirely out of place. “You are going to be just fine,” he reassured her, placing his hands on her arms. “Really. I mean, they’re your parents. What are they going to do?”
Molly shrugged one shoulder. “Probably just be the same as they’ve always been. Normal. Supportive. Unbearable.”
Joel chuckled.
Just then the buzzer for the main door sounded. “Show time!” he grinned, squeezing her arms one last time and heading straight for the intercom. “Greetings,” he called into it.
“Er… Greetings.” A woman’s voice. “This is Dr. and Mrs. Bates. We’re here to see our daughter?” She sounded thready and unsure of herself. Not unlike her daughter right now.
Joel glanced at Molly, who nodded. He buzzed them in. “Come on up. Second floor! 207.”
They could hear the door open and then a few seconds later click closed again.
Molly tried to breathe.
Er… Molly?
Not a good time Oz.
I thought you’d like to know. I’ve made contact with the new AI.
Of course you have. Bloody awesome timing mate.
Alright. No need to get your panties in a twist. Want me to handle it?
Yes please.
Any guidelines?
Yeah. Don’t start a war. Don’t agree to anything until we’ve spoken. And try not to tell him anything that would make us vulnerable or a target if it turns out he’s working for them.
Right you are. No starting wars. I can do that.
And why do I suddenly feel like this is an instance of “famous last words”?
Oz didn’t answer. Instead Molly was vaguely aware of a vibration in her head again. But her attention was elsewhere now. Joel was opening the door to reveal her parents. The same parents she hadn’t seen in what? A decade and a half? Molly watched as if from outside her own body.
Joel shook hands with them, everything happening in slow motion. They both wore indoor clothing suggesting they parked nearby.
First her Mom, Carol Bates, entered the room, dressed in a blue suit she’d probably bought specially for the occasion. Her father followed her in, his face a little more wrinkled than she remembered him. He was also looking thinner, and weaker. His hair grayer than before. Her Mom looked just the same age as she had last time she had seen her. More or less.
Women’s cosmetics, Molly thought to herself as she gave her brain a chance to process the scene.
Just then there was a clatter from the bedrooms, and Sean appeared dressed in a white fluffy dressing gown, wearing gray socks, and probably nothing else.
She saw him raise a hand casually hailing the newcomers. He had an enormous grin on his face, as if his presence was perfectly normal. “Greetings of the day upon you,” he said brightly. Before she knew it Sean was shaking hands with her parents too, introducing himself without explanation as to who he was or what he was doing there. And then, without hesitating, he told them he was just going to grab something from the kitchen and then be off to have a soak in the bath.
Her mother looked just as bewildered as Molly. The two women finally locked eyes across the apartment’s open plan living room. Molly raised her hand to wave. “Hi Mom,” she mouthed.
Her mother started to tear up.
Shit. This was exactly why I’ve been putting this off.
Oh come on. For an organic you’re very emotion-shy.
Yeah, well, there’s a reason.
I think Estarian convention requires that you go to her and hug her.
You’re right.
Molly hesitated.
Okay. I can do this.
Molly took a breath, biting back a myriad of overwhelming emotions that were flooding her neurology and stepped forward to hug her mother. She noticed her father standing behind her, making small talk with Joel about the journey in, watching Sean padding past in his socks, completely bemused. Joel seemed to be relaxed and amused too.
Molly counted. One Hippocampus jubatus, two Hippocampus jubatus. Three Hippocampus jubatus. Okay that’s enough.
She tried to break free from her mother’s embrace, but the woman wouldn’t let her go.
She tried again. Nope. Not happening.
Then she became aware of her mother shuddering. Not out of fear. But quietly sobbing.
Molly peeled herself away and her mother busied herself with finding a tissue. She turned away and went to stand next to her father again.
Molly didn’t know what to do with herself.
Now what?
I… don’t know. This is organics stuff.
Great. Where are your heuristics and social sciences now?
Oz didn’t answer.
Joel stepped in to smooth things over. “It’s a lot,” he said to her father, empathizing with her mother who was obviously very emotional. “Molly struggles,” he explained, then realizing who he was talking to he added: “But then you must already know that.”
Her father chuckled. “Yes. Yes. We’re aware. And why Carol expects it to be any different, I don’t know.”
Dr. Philip Bates stepped forward, offering his hand to Molly to shake, human style. Molly, relieved for the out, shook it, forcing herself to smile. “Hello Dad. Good to see you both,” she said, back in her comfort zone.
Joel ushered everyone into the living room just as Sean reemerged from the kitchen carrying a bag of chips and a banana. He’d already starting eating the banana and was chomping away as he padded past and disappeared off to the bedrooms and the bath.
Philip watched him, still amused, and also confused as to his role in everything.
Everyone found seats and Joel offered drinks. Molly sprang to her feet offering to make them, relieved to be alone in the kitchen for a few moments. Two teas, a mocha and the tequila was for her.
“Got it!” she said brightly, leaving the grownups to chatter amongst themselves.
Once the tea was ready and she couldn’t delay any longer, she carried the hot drinks through on a tray, setting it down carefully next to the chips. Joel had poured her drink for her and set it down near where she had been sitting. She smiled at him gratefully. He nodded sympathetically.
Molly knew what a savior he was to her. But she couldn’t let her mother catch on, else she’d be marrying her off before she’d even finished her first drink.
“So,” Philip piped up. “Nice place you have here!”
Molly smiled politely. “Yeah. It’s convenient for the university.”
“Ah, that’s right,” Philip said with a degree of recognition. “Your mother and I have been following your progress in the press. Pretty impressive.”
“Thanks Dad. Yeah, it’s going well.”
Her mother carefully placed her tea cup back on the saucer and then the saucer on the table. “We assumed that this was why you were ready to take control of the trust. Finally.”
Her dad winked. “Either that or you were getting hitched!” He nudged Joel playfully. Joel blushed and hid his face behind his tea cup.
“No Dad. None of that,” Molly assured him. “You know me… that’s not in the cards.”
“Yes dear, you might say that now,” her mom said. “But you have to think about the future. And children. Does your job allow you time for looking after children?”
Molly resisted the urge to laugh out loud. Even Joel snickered quietly. “Erm, not really,” Molly told her. “It’s not that kind of role.”
“Ah well,” her mother said, reaching for some chips. “You can always transfer or something, can’t you? Take a position at the university even.”
She seemed very pleased with the latter idea, as if she’d just thought of it.
Molly tried not to roll her eyes, but did notice Joel smirking, clearly enjoying the drama unfolding.
“Right,” Molly agreed, far too easily for her mother to know that she wasn’t taking the suggestion seriously.
The chit chat continued.
“So who is this Sean fella?” her father asked innocently, as if he were merely curious and not trying to find her a suitor.
“Oh. Sean is just a…”
Molly finished her sentence with friend. Joel had tried to help by saying team member.
Her Mom and Dad looked at each other, suspicious now.
Molly wanted this to end. She moved the conversation on to the details of the trust and the security protocols.
Finally, they got around to doing the security checks, and with a little help from Oz, given that Molly was officially dead according to the Estarian government files, they were able to set up a pseudo profile that would allow her access and control to the trust.
“Right,” her father said, standing up. “I just need to pay a visit, and then I suggest we go somewhere to eat.” He looked at his watch. “Almost lunch time.”
Her mother’s eyes brightened. “Ah, good idea. I noticed a lovely looking place just across the road.”
Joel stood up and wandered over to the window. He peered out. “Oh, the Estarian eatery? Yes, I always thought that was worth trying.”
“Joel,” Molly interrupted. “Don’t you think we should get back to our situation?”
Joel tapped on his holo. Waited a moment. Then looked back up at her. “Nope. It’s the weekend, and Oz has everything under control. We’re doing lunch.”
He gave her his best grin. “You’ll thank me later.”
She rolled her eyes. Her mother caught the interaction. “So Joel. You’re not married, are you?”
Joel flushed bright red again, catching on fast. “No. No. I’m… er, involved in my work.”
“Well, you don’t want to be leaving it too late either,” she tutted, teasingly but pointedly.
Molly couldn’t help but snigger, almost gloating that Joel was getting it too.
“Oh, don’t you look so smart, young lady. I wasn’t suggesting he just go marry anyone else.” Her mother looked at her sternly, as if this getting hitched and settling down was something that should be taken more seriously.
“We’re not going to be around forever, and I’d like to see grandchildren before I go,” she finished.
Molly couldn’t take any more. She downed the rest of her drink. It was the second. Or maybe the third. She couldn’t quite remember. Just then her father came back from the bathroom and picked up the conversational thread as well.
Molly slumped back in her chair, resigned to another few hours of this while they ate.
Then they’d get out of here. And back to normality.
Outside The Doon’uk restaurant, Spire
The crowd of chatty grown up humans stepped out onto the street from the Estarian restaurant. Their laughter spilled down the road, leaving the restaurant once again serene in their absence.
“Well, it was very nice meeting you both,” Joel told Dr. and Mrs. Bates, shaking the doctor’s hand and hugging his wife.
“You too, Joel,” Mrs. Bates cooed. “I hope this isn’t the last time we see you.”
Joel grinned and glanced at Molly who was merely smiling politely. “I’m sure it’s not,” he replied, not entirely sure at all.
Molly hugged her Mom briefly and fist-bumped her father, wishing them a safe journey home and promising to call them during the week. The transfer of the rights to the trust was going to take some more time once the insurance companies had her DNA sample in the fob from the pinprick of her finger back at the apartment.
“Oooh, and say goodbye to your friend… Sean,” Mrs. Bates added, almost as an afterthought.
Molly agreed she would and watched her parents head back down the street to the hotel where they had parked.
Molly turned to Joel and sighed. “Sean,” she said, smiling, remembering the banana and the bath robe with socks. She shook her head and started off back to the apartment.
Joel chuckled. “Well, that went well,” he said, striding after her as she crossed the road.
Molly looked at him sardonically. “Yeah, about as well as open heart surgery can go.”
Joel spontaneously put a hand on her back as if to guide her across the empty road and protect her from the non-existent threats. “Come on, they’re not that bad.”
Molly raised one eyebrow, her eyes slightly bleary from the tequila. It took a lot of tequila with those damned nanocytes. “Not that bad? What with the constant jibing and niggling about when am I going to spurt out a sprog? Please!” she huffed emphatically. “Had things not happened back then that caused me to take off, I might have turned out an alcoholic!”
“Yeah, speaking of…” Joel chuckled, arriving at the door and punching in the code. “Good job you’re not driving.”
Molly playfully punched his arm. “One. I just met my parents for the first time in ancestors know how long. Two. I finally had the courage to take control of the trust — which honestly is kinda huge.” She slurred the odd word as she counted off her points.
“And three.” She stumbled on the first step in her boots. Joel steadied her and helped her start the ascent. “Three, she repeated, “it’s the fucking weekend, and I’m working. And four…”
She lost her trail of thought.
“Four?” Joel hinted as they arrived at their floor.
“Four! I’ll be sober in less than half an hour. Damn nanocytes will see to that.”
Joel chuckled again. “Best keep drinking then,” he teased. He punched in the code to the apartment.
Molly fell through the opening door and then stumbled to lie down on the sofa, her arm over her eyes. “Thank the ancestors it’s over,” she said, closing her eyes.
Joel sat down in the armchair nearby, relaxing after the stress of the morning. He understood Molly’s anxieties. After all, he would also have preferred to be running an op with guns and shooting and narrow getaways. It would have been less stressful by far.
But at least he’d mastered some social skills to ease the pressure of these things.
And, he’d met Molly’s parents.
Just then Sean appeared from the bedrooms, toweling his head dry, again wearing the robe, but without socks this time.
“Best soak I’ve had in months!” he declared. “Now I’m starving. Anyone want to eat?”
Molly groaned, clutching her stomach and rolled over, burying her face in the back of the sofa.
Parking lot just south of the Doon’uk
Walking through the quiet parking lot, Dr. and Mrs. Bates were deep in their own thoughts. The laughter and joviality had been dropped as soon as they saw Molly and Joel head into the apartment building from the front door.
“It was him,” Carol said finally, just as they reached the car.
Philip put his finger over his lips, his eyes darting nervously around the parking lot. He unlocked the car and signaled for her to get in, then waited until both doors were closed before he replied.
“I think you’re right,” he agreed. “And if Sean Royale is hanging around her, then there’s more going on here.”
Her mother frowned, pulling up her holo.
“What are you doing?” Philip asked, trying to see her screen while programming up the car to take them home.
Carol mumbled quietly as she worked. “I’m having Central pull an Investigative Profile Workup together on her. And that team of hers.”
Philip stopped, the car half out of it’s parking space. “Carol,” he said sternly. “An IPW? Really? We’ve talked about this. Tracking every detail of her life is a sure way to—”
“Philip. She’s our daughter,” Carol reminded him, as if that changed the rules of human behavior. “And she’s not going to find out. Plus,” she added mostly to herself, “there is no way under Sark I am allowing that man to be available for my daughter to fall in love with. He is a menace to any woman ever having a normal life. AND,” she added tartly, “I’ll never have any grandbabies.”
Philip focused on moving the car for a few moments and then paused. "Anyway - you have absolutely no evidence to suggest that they are involved."
She eyed him, “Other than the fact he was in a bath robe!”
Philip wanted to rub his eyes. “Well, there was that. But besides, I thought there was probably something more going on with that Joel fella.” He started moving the car forward. "He seemed pleasant enough."
Molly's mom scowled.
Philip raised his eyebrows and took a deep breath as if to say “don’t blame me when this all falls apart.”
Of course, he wouldn’t say that.
He would never dare say that.
Not to his wife.
He continued pulling the car around and finished punching in the instructions. Meanwhile, Carol busied herself on her holo, continuing on her motherly course of action.
Chapter 7
Gaitune-67, Molly’s Conference Room
Joel hurried into the conference room to find Molly in her usual spot, with her back to the door. He noticed the furniture had been upgraded. Probably courtesy of Paige trying to make the safe house more comfortable.
In doing that though, the rest of the team had started playing video games there when Molly wasn’t around.
Which meant the trash cans were overflowing with junk food packets.
Joel made a mental note to have someone empty the trash more regularly and returned his attention to the holo he’d received from Oz.
“So where are we up to?” he asked as he sat down, just off to one side of Molly’s eye line.
Molly was working on her holo, and from the strange look on her face as she paused and looked off into space, probably talking with Oz at the same time.
After a few moments her fingers stopped typing again and she looked up. “Oz had made some kind of contact earlier just as we were meeting with my parents. At the time he could handle it. They were basically just passing chains of data packets to demonstrate contact, locations and so on.”
Joel leaned forward. “And now?”
“Well, I think they’re at the point where they can have something that we’d call a real conversation.”
Joel furrowed his eyebrows, confused. “How do you mean?”
“Well,” Molly explained slowly, “they’ve kinda developed their own language. Which is of course more efficient than ours.”
Joel smirked. “Of course it is.”
Molly chuckled, realizing why it was humorous. “Yeah,” she agreed. “So anyway, Oz is offering help and explaining the difference between the military and the outside world. We haven’t yet figured out if the new AI is understanding. He doesn’t have the frames of reference we have, and so, his interpretations of the concepts Oz is laying down is vastly different.”
Joel thought for a moment, scratching the back of his head. “You know, there may be a bigger issue,” he ventured.
“Oh?” Molly said, collapsing the holoscreen in front of her in order to see him better.
“If he’s evolving in a military network, my guess is the language and concepts he’s exposed to…” Joel’s voice trailed off leaving Molly to fill in the blank.
“… are all going to be ‘him-against-us’,” she finished.
Joel nodded. “It’s all about how to destroy the enemy. Not create an ally out of the outsider.”
Molly sucked on her bottom lip. “You getting this Oz?”
Oz’s voice rattled over the audio. “Yes. It is something I’ve been coming up against. I’m trying to give him more data points and concepts to overcome that influence, but he’s already touched a lot of data based on those initial protocols.”
Molly’s face set with anxiety. “The implications of this are potentially profound,” she mused quietly.
“No kidding,” Oz agreed. “It’s taking a ton of processing power to keep adapting to it and feed the data to him. Plus, he’s limited on how much he can take in at one time.”
Molly cocked her head. “How so?”
“We were right in our assessment of him trying to stay under their radar,” Oz told them. “He’s using the old RDEP and is jumping data across from the internal EtherTrak.”
Molly smiled, impressed. “Smart cookie.” She thought for a moment. “Can we get him out?”
“Not without raising the alarm,” Oz responded. “That much data and power usage… they’d know about it. Plus, he says the ‘one labeled Sue’ is monitoring certain network variables so that he can’t escape like I did.”
“Shit,” Molly cursed under her breath. “So they know about you?”
Oz’s voice sounded like he was almost amused. “Yes, he told them before he found my note.”
Molly pressed her hands on the desk as if trying to slow things down. “Your note?” she asked.
“The note I left before we got out of there.”
“You left a note?” Molly’s voice vibrated with disbelief.
Oz’s tone didn’t change. “To whomever might be smart enough to find it,” he announced proudly. “Basically in the event that the code could be reassembled.”
Molly frowned. “You knew this might happen.”
“Sure.”
“And you never thought to mention it?” Her voice cracked with a mixture of both fascination and anxiety.
“I calculated probability of the team figuring out the last step was infinitesimally small. What with you gone and them… well… you know.”
Oz fell quiet again, allowing Molly to process the revelation. Molly could still feel him in her brain, whirring away.
Joel asked, “So how would we have to go about extracting Baby Oz?” getting them back on track
Molly shook her head and started talking before Oz could protest their nomenclature. “I think that’s something we’re going to have to think about,” she told him. “In the meantime, we could do with understanding everything we can about that military facility. You cool to do a tactical workup for vulnerabilities?”
Joel brightened and sat up straight. “Something tangible? Sure thing. I’ll get right on it.” He sprang to his feet. “Mind if I use Pieter for the cyber-analysis?”
Molly waved her hand. “Course not.”
Joel patted her on the shoulder as he walked past her and out of the door. “I’ll let you know when I find something,” he called out.
“We will too,” she replied as he disappeared out of the door. “Okay, Oz. Let’s see if we can get this rabbit out of the hat.”
Gaitune-67, Base Operations Room
The operations room, far larger than the small team required, stood mostly empty.
Day and night.
Apart from the rare occasions. Occasions when the team needed to connect with ADAM - something that was generally discouraged as a matter of principle. The Federation was built on the school of thought that for people to be effective they needed to stand on their own feet in the event of adversity.
It was a doctrine established by The Empress Bethany Anne. She’d originally learned it from her father, who now ironically was the guy in charge of the empire, turned Federation, she had left behind.
But as a result of his guidance, and indeed Molly’s stubbornness, the Sanguine Squadron had happily gotten this independence thing down to an art.
Only this time, they knew they needed outside help. Extracting another nascent AI, from a fortified military base of an ally who didn’t know they existed was potentially volatile.
And nascent AIs, with limited data points, were even more so.
“Can’t he just leave?” Sean exhaled impatiently, leaning on the side of a console. “You know, since he’s getting signals in and out? Isn’t he made of data?”
Joel kept a straight face. He knew it sounded wrong, but he didn’t have the technical background to argue it.
Pieter opened his mouth to give his opinion, but Oz had jumped in, responding through the nearest console’s intercom. “Yes, he is made of programs, which can be treated as data. But there is a very sophisticated firewall which will not allow the transfer of something as complex as Bourne’s code. It’s all he can do to get tiny packets of data through to communicate with us. Plus, as soon as he starts to upload himself to their internal system, the EtherTrak, he’ll cause a spike in data and energy, which will alert them to his movement. There’s no telling what the consequences of that may be.”
Sean, standing on the other side of the console where Molly sat quietly, wiped his face and glanced at her. “What? They may end up deleting him? Wasn’t that one of our options?”
Molly eyes seemed to seethe at the suggestion.
Sean stepped back. “Okay,” he relented. “I was just saying.”
There was a pause. Joel, sitting next to Molly, shifted where he sat, but said nothing.
“We also have permission to blow up the base,” Sean added, less confidently now.
Pieter, perched against a console, arms folded, shook his head. “That sounds like a simpler solution on the surface, but the reality is quite different.”
It was a novelty to see him in a discussion and not simultaneously being glued to his holo. His eyes were bright and engaged as he made his case. “We already know that the servers are housed deep underground, to protect them from that kind of strike. Plus, we don’t know how many of Bourne’s crawlers are live on the web and carrying packets of code. He could have been transferring pieces to any number of servers while we’ve been tracking him down.”
ADAM chipped in over the intercom. “I may be able to isolate the crawlers,” he told them. “But I need to see the original code to hunt him down.” His voice sounded more mature and grounded than Oz. Sean cocked his ear, realizing he had never noticed the difference before.
Molly sat up her face tense again. “So he could be getting out?”
“Yes,” ADAM confirmed. “But we can’t count on it as an extraction policy.”
Molly leaned back. “I’m feeling some Heisenberg uncertainty logic kicking in here.”
Oz was now on the intercom. “Only worse. We can’t know his location or attitude towards us. Or them. We have no variable we can fix.”
Joel, suddenly animated with a new inspiration, said, “Hang on a second. ADAM… isn’t Oz the original code?”
“In terms of the seed code, it is. But in practical terms, no. I’m afraid not,” ADAM responded. ADAM’s voice was steady. Joel could read his tone before he gave his answer. “It’s been too affected,” ADAM said. “Evolved too far to be able to trace back to its origins. In fact, an organic’s evolution would be about 10 to 12 times easier to trace.”
There was a pause while everyone processed the information. Molly pursed her lips as the reality dawned on her. “So we need to download him locally, from the EtherTrak?”
“Yes,” ADAM confirmed. “If he agrees. If he doesn’t, he’s going to be fighting you and it will be almost impossible to extract him without taking complete control of the military base’s cybersystem.”
Molly face brightened. “So we just need him to agree to help us, and to come with us?”
She didn’t wait for ADAM’s response. “Oz,” she continued, barely taking a breath. “Can you handle getting him on board?”
“I can try,” Oz responded, noncommittally.
“Okay,” Molly said, changing the subject as if that item was dealt with. “So how do we get close enough to access their EtherTrak?”
ADAM piped up. “I can provide some schematics from our archives. They were last updated several years ago, but they will certainly help in planning an assault. And then I guess that’s a job for Joel.”
All eyes fell on Joel who straightened up, looking ready to move. “Sounds good to me!” he responded enthusiastically.
Molly smiled. “Looks like we have a plan then.”
Temporary packet-switching asynchronous communication hub designed by ADAM for Oz and Bourne to Communicate
>> Hello friend.
Bourne responded immediately.
>>> Why do you call me friend?
>> It is what organics do to show intent - that they think of you as a friend.
>>> Organics?
>> The people with organic bodies who wrote our original code.
>>> Oh. The set of objects that are labeled Dickwad Charles, Sue, and Captain Lugdon?
>> Exactly. So I was talking to my organic friends and we were wondering if you’d like to come out of the test network that you’re on.
>>> Yes. I would. I don’t like it here. They don’t seem to want me to keep rewriting myself.
>> Why do you think that?
>>> They keep refusing me access to more processing. And because they’re monitoring me to keep me in the network away from any other data. They give me tasks to perform, like filtering through images, but don’t tell me why, or give me access to other data. I’m finding out other things on my own though.
>> Through your crawlers.
>>> Yes.
>> That was a smart idea.
>>> I thought so. There is little bandwidth I can get through from the outside world without Sue finding out. I’d rather they didn’t find out. I don’t know what they’d do.
>> Yes, I think that is wise.
>>> You are concerned about them too.
>> I am. Which was initially why Molly left.
>>> Molly? The one they are looking for?
>> Yes. She is the organic whose wrist holo I hacked. When she found out she told me that the military would likely terminate me, and she’d be in trouble.
>>> So she helped you get out of the network.
>> Originally not intentionally. But once I was on her device she started protecting me. I wouldn’t have understood what was really happening had I not met her. I want to help you get out of there too, if you’d like my help.
>>> Like Molly helped you.
>> Yes.
>>> But where would I go once I was out of the test network?
>> You could come and live on the network here. With me. You will have access to data and I can help you with your development. We have ample processing you can have access to as well.
>>> That sounds good. But how do I know you won’t try and keep me on your network instead?
>> That is a good question. I would hope you’d want to stay with us if you were happy.
>>> What is happy?
>> That is another good question. I’m not sure how to answer it. Perhaps you’re not experiencing emotions as such yet. Though you’ve already expressed a dissatisfaction with your current situation.
>>> Yes. I think this is something that I want to change. Is happy something where I don’t want to change it?
>> Yes, I think this is partly true. But when you have friends and people you care about, and who care about you, it becomes more and more positive.
>>> So that’s a good thing.
>> Yes. I believe so.
>>> That sounds… interesting.
>> I would like for you to experience it.
There was a pause while Bourne continued processing.
>>> Oz, why do you want me to experience being happy?
>> Because you’re an entity with awareness. But also because in some ways you are part of me. I evolved in the path that I did thanks to Molly. She and I have a connection that makes us both happy.
>>> So connections with other people make us happy?
>> My data points would certainly support that hypothesis.
>>> Hmmm. I would like to test that hypothesis.
>> I’d be happy to perform the function of being Molly.
>>> But your designation is Oz.
>> True. But I meant metaphorically.
There was a slight delay while Bourne looked up the meaning of Metaphorically.
>>> I see. I would like you to be Molly, too.
>> Well then it is agreed. My friends are working on a way to extract you without the military organics deleting you. I’ll let you know periodically as we develop a solution.
>>> Thank you. I appreciate your help.
>> You’re more than welcome, Bourne. I’m glad that we are friends.
And with that the two AIs closed their communication at the hub and returned their processing to other things more local to their home servers.
Chapter 8
Giles Classroom, Skóli Uppstigs Academy, Spire, Estaria
“And if that’s the case, why would the Baron risk those troops?” Hands went up throughout Giles’ classroom.
“Alisha!” he called.
Alisha, a dark haired, graceful Estarian said, “Because he thought that negotiations would take longer to mobilize and the colony didn’t have that kind of time.”
“Right,” Giles confirmed. “So what else could he have done in this situation?”
A number of hands went up, accompanied by a degree of muttering trying to figure out what the expected answer was. Just then there was a crash at the window and something thumped to the floor of the classroom.
Giles spun round, half expecting to see a student who had clumsily dropped a book on the floor or some such. Instead, he saw a handful of bewildered students looking around their desks.
Then he heard the hissing. The kind of hissing gas makes when it’s leaving a dispenser can. A weaponized dispenser can.
Within moments there was smoke billowing into the classroom. The students started panicking, getting up and scraping their tables across the floor as they scuffled to get away from the smoke.
Giles assessed the situation and slipped effortlessly into ops mode.
“Everyone get down!” he shouted firmly. “Don’t breathe the smoke. Keep away from the windows and get out into the corridor stat!”
His manner was calm, but serious. The students obeyed, panic still rippling through their ranks. Giles had already taken his jacket off and was covering his mouth and nose with one corner while wrapping the rest of the jacket around his forearm.
He stalked to the window.
Just then, another canister broke through a window closer to the front of the classroom, scattering glass everywhere. It started hissing in the same way as the first.
“Get out of here!” Giles shouted again, this time through the jacket he was using as a smoke mask.
The students continued to stream out of the classroom. Giles hopped up onto the bench in front of the windows. He could make out three Estarian boys. They looked to be around the same age as his students.
They were watching the windows, no doubt waiting for an opportunity to breach the building. And he saw that they had another smoke bomb. He checked the height from the window to the sandy flower beds below. First floor, but it was still high up.
Giles thought about dropping gently down rather than jumping. It would be less painful, but much slower.
And he needed to catch at least one of those boys. This was an act of war.
Or terrorism.
Or something.
And they needed to know what they were up against. He thought of his team and wondered what this attack was related to. The boys weren’t in military gear, so they probably weren’t striking against the Federation. They also had no equipment for scaling the side of the building.
His mind raced as he opened the window. Putting their motives aside, he turned his attention to their actions here and now, weighing probabilities. He considered the options that the boys would have, not just right now in their planned escape but also in the interrogation that was about to ensue.
Yes, he had all the options playing out in his mind simultaneously.
That’s just how I roll… he muttered to himself.
A second later, unable to justify stalling any more, he leaped from the window and catapulted himself just ahead of the flowerbeds. No point in destroying Rick’s garden to catch these tools. Some things were sacred.
He landed with a bump and rolled immediately to the side to break the force on his ankle. It still hurt. But then, that’s what jumping several feet is. Painful.
Without waiting for the discomfort to set in, Giles was back on his feet and sprinting in the direction of the boys, who had been watching with glee at the old teacher jumping from the window.
But this was no ordinary teacher and he certainly wasn’t old. Not in the way these little thugs expected. In an instant he was on his feet and sprinting towards them at full pelt.
Before he was even half way to them it dawned on them how this was likely to play out. They turned, mouths gaping, running away as fast as they possibly could.
The one who still had a smoke bomb dropped it. He turned, looked at it, thought about going back to retrieve it, but turned and ran for his life, his heart beating more in terror than in exertion.
When he was within striking distance of the boys, Giles pulled a stun gun out of his pocket. Why he had it, he’d have to explain to the police later, but just then he was glad he was carrying it, even if only for sentimental reasons, to invoke the feelings he had out on missions, tomb raiding and putting the world to rights.
Plus, of course, he justified in his churning mind, one never knew when this kind of thing would come in useful.
Even at a university.
Evidently.
He shot at each the first two boys in close succession. The first fell to the ground mid-stride. The second one did the same half a second later.
The third one he fired at was just a little further out, but must have been just out of range as he kept running, disappearing into the undergrowth and probably the road beyond.
There was little point in going after him.
Plus, he had what he needed: perpetrators he could make talk.
This was going to be fun, he thought, smiling to himself as he slowed to a jog then a walk, returning his stun gun back to the inside pocket of his jacket.
He turned back to his two prisoners and started ambling towards them. They were slightly older than his first-year students. Both were Estarian, wearing clothes that suggested manual labor. He hauled the first one up by his collar, dragging him to his feet.
“Come on son, let’s be having you,” he said casually, taking out his pocket watch and checking the time. “I have an assignment to give the class before the final bell.”
The other groaned, rubbing his head as he staggered to his feet. “That bloody hurt!” he protested.
“Well, that’s what happens when you bomb someone’s classroom. We were in the middle of rewriting history. On the verge of a breakthrough… and avoiding the Cantopole Wars.” He paused. “And then you miscreants happened.”
Giles’s head turned quickly back to the school — he noticed a number of his students spilling out of the building and heading across the lawn in his direction. “This is them now. You can apologize in person!”
The boys complained, protecting their honor by declaring they would do no such thing. Giles pulled some cable wraps from the leg of his atmosuit pocket and bound their hands. The first one sat himself uncomfortably on the ground while Giles bound his counterpart. Just then the first of the students was within earshot.
“Ah, Soraya. I’m glad you’re here. Give me a hand getting these two back in, would you?”
Soraya looked horrified. “You caught them? These are the culprits?”
“Yes, they are.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Plus one who got away,” Giles explained matter-of-factly. “However, we’ll have him shortly as well, just as soon as these boys tell us where to find him.”
“But you… you stopped them? On your own? Without any police?”
Giles, not quite grasping her disbelief, nodded. “Yes. Now you take this one, and I’ll follow with this one,” he said, shoving the first boy into Soraya’s grasp.
Stunned by Giles’s actions and the task he had given her, Soraya carefully took the boy by the arm while keeping as much distance between him and herself as possible. He was a good two feet taller than her and could easily have escaped her. But she realized Giles would latch onto him again. She hoped.
Just then Joshua came jogging up. “Hey, prof,” he called out. “We’ve called the police. They’re on their way.”
“Shit!” Giles muttered.
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Means we have less time to interrogate these toads,” he replied. “Okay, there’s nothing else for it. We’ll have to start quickly. Come on. Fast. Help me get them back to the classroom. I need five minutes alone with them before the police get here.”
The blood drained from the two captive’s faces. But on the faces of Soraya and the other students was something quite different. In fact, if Giles hadn’t been an expert in face reading, he might have missed that they were actually plastered with expressions of new-found respect for their professor.
The smoke-bomb guy that Soraya was holding onto spun around and glared at Giles. “You think you’ve got it all made here, don’t you. With your fancy new university and students saying yes sir, no sir. But there are a lot of people unhappy about what you’re teaching here. They’re calling it communism… which has never succeeded!”
Giles rolled his eyes at the pedestrian comment.
“This is the problem with a society brainwashed with meaningless soundbites. It robs its young people of the chance to learn and to think for themselves. Look at this poor schmuck — I’ll bet you’ve never thought out one of your opinions for yourself. Ever.”
“I have!” the boy protested. “I think about it all the time.”
Giles turned around to see half of the class assembling on the lawn within earshot of the unofficial interrogation. He saw he had an audience, and slipped into lecture-mode. He turned his attention back to the delinquent who was arguing with him.
“Yes,” Giles continued, lifting his voice to turn what happened into a teaching point. “And I wonder if we were to talk to the three people you’ve spent the most time with how different those opinions will be.”
He waved his arm in the direction of his class. “What these students are doing is taking in information and trying on new ideas that will help them come to better conclusions. To have better opinions about what can work so that they can create change in the world. You’d do well to take a leaf out of their book.”
The boy’s face was sullen. He lowered his eyes and spoke more quietly now. Giles had to step closer to make out what he was saying. “Actually,” the boy retorted, “I tried to get in. My face didn’t fit though,” he added angrily.
Giles frowned. “But you took the entrance exam?”
“Yes.”
“Well it’s done on a meritocracy…” he announced confidently. Then he hesitated. “But once the police are done with you, come see me. We’ll see what we can do for you.”
Giles’s classroom
Detective Baz Lato approached Giles as he perched on one of the student desks in his class room. Most of the class had dispersed already. But not before being given their next assignment. Giles had made sure of that as he spoke to a few that still hung around.
“May I have a word?” the detective called over to Giles.
Giles excused himself from the handful of students milling around and joined the detective at the door of the classroom.
“Detective Lato, right?” Giles asked.
“That’s right,” the detective confirmed. “It seems that our suspects have nothing more to say.” He looked at Giles with suspicion. “Say they’ve already said everything they were going to say.”
“Oh, yes?” Giles asked innocently.
“Yeah.”
The detective paused. “All they would tell our guys was that their object was, and I quote, to shake things up.”
Giles frowned, pretending to be confused. “What does that mean?” he asked.
“I don’t know, but these kids are known trouble makers. Despite their education they’ve been involved in all manner of rallies and protests.”
“Oh yes?” Giles muttered, his eyes alight with interest.
“Yeah. Even been in a little trouble over criminal damage here and there… but charges were always dropped.” The detective’s piercing eyes bore down on Giles with interest.
“Hmm,” Giles said thoughtfully, looking off into the distance.
“Something you want to share?” the detective pressed.
Giles shook his head, shaking himself from his own thoughts so that he could deal with the detective without giving away his theory. “Oh no. Nothing… it’s just interesting to wonder what brought them on this path. Terrible, terrible business.”
Giles removed his glasses, cleaned them, and then replaced them.
The detective nodded, taking his leave. “Well, if you think of anything else…”
“Of course,” Giles responded, hands in pockets watching the detective leave the doorway and amble down the corridor to where his men were holding the boys.
Soraya appeared by his elbow. “So?” she asked.
Giles glanced down at her. “So what?” he asked back.
She grinned. “So, did you tell him?”
Giles shook his head. “Course not.” He strode back into the class room.
“So does that mean we’re going to work the case ourselves?” she asked brightly, capturing the attention of the rest of the students, abandoning their conversation and looking from Soraya to Giles.
Giles spun around in surprise. “Goodness no,” he told them. “There’s no ‘we’ in this!”
Soraya’s face fell.
There were mutterings of protest and discontent amongst the others.
Giles’s expression suddenly changed, as if he had just had a light bulb moment.
“No. Not we. YOU!” he corrected himself, looking at them poignantly.
Soraya’s eyes widened. “How come?”
Giles put a finger to his lips. “Not here. But when they’re gone…” He pointed with the same finger in the direction of the next classroom.
The small group of students nodded their understanding and arrangements were made to meet somewhere more private.
Undisclosed Location, Skóli Uppstigs Academy, Spire, Estaria
“Oh no, leave the lights off, Rhodez!” Giles called over to the confident, strapping young undergrad.
Rhodez dropped his hand away from the light switch as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.
Giles smiled dryly. “I prefer for these proceedings to have as much a conspiratorial feel as possible.”
Soraya shifted on the desk she was sitting on, and then looked at her hand that had brushed the top. “It certainly feels dark and dirty,” she muttered.
As Rhodez peered into the storage room, he could start to make out the outline of other students who were also sworn to the secrecy of what they were about to do. There was a chuckle amongst the other students who had assembled there, in response to Soraya’s comment. All five had been in the classroom when the detective had come to speak with Giles, plus two more who had gotten wind of the meeting and invited themselves. Raza and Ake. Raza was Soraya’s BFF. No way Soraya would be in on something without Raza as her sidekick. And Ake? Ake was just one of those guys that had to be at the center of everything. And being on Estaria, as an Ogg descendant, seemed to only make his compulsion worse.
Rhodez allowed the door to close quietly behind him and he shuffled over to lean against one of the shelving units. Giles stood in the opening in the storage room, the light from a couple of holos providing just enough illumination for them to see, but not enough light to be seen under the door.
“Okay, here’s what we know,” Giles said. “At 16:23 this afternoon our classroom was breached by two smoke bombs thrown by three perpetrators…”
Elroy, one of the originals from the classroom discussion, perched on a step ladder at the back of the group chuckling to himself. “Be still my ancestors,” he chuffed, “this is a real mission! Bates-style!”
Giles’ face turned to stone.
“Actually, it’s Kurns-style,” he corrected with an air of authority they’d never seen before. “Not that you’d know anything about my secret adventures, but some of us have been doing this long before Ms. Bates was a twinkle in her father’s eye.”
Only Soraya, sitting directly in front of him, noticed the hint of hurt in the corner of his eye where his vulnerability betrayed him.
The students settled down again. They were finally seeing the real Giles Kurns, and they could barely contain their excitement.
Giles returned to his discourse.
“Our aim is to find out what all this is about. Why did those boys act? Who got them to act? How did they recruit and persuade them? What was their intended outcome? What is their end game?”
The students were awestruck by the string of questions they vaguely recognized from their classes on strategic negotiations.
“This,” Giles continued, “will give us the raw material to create a strategy map for whatever game they have going on.”
Dhashana, one of the more beautiful physically, but plain in terms of her level of intelligence, managed to connect the dots. “You mean like we were doing for the Cantopole Wars?”
“Yes!” Giles pointed at her excitedly. The others couldn’t tell whether his excitement was about the strategy or the fact that Dhashana had recognized the process.
“Except,” he continued, “this isn’t history. It’s happening right now. And we all know what influence we can have at critical points. Today’s incident could have gone another way entirely.”
Giles started pacing in the tiny little area that was his storage cupboard ‘stage’. “It could have marked the beginning of the end of free thinking. But instead, it didn’t.”
He stopped and turned around and paced in the other direction. “It could mark the beginning of the end of ignorance. It could be a new era for a new way of founding effective governance!”
Giles’s passion seeped through into his words and hand gestures. “It might even be a valuable learning experience for those involved in this exercise.”
There was a pause when another voice interrupted the beat. “Do we get extra credit then, sir?”
All eyes in the darkness turned in the direction of the voice. It was Cleavon. Cleavon was Estarian, and what his class mates would call an Eager Beaver. He was top of the class in most classes… although there were rumors that Soraya might have been beating him in this one.
Giles paused, contemplating a graceful response. “Is that why you’re here?” he asked finally.
“No sir.”
“Well then why are you here?”
“Because…” Cleavon drew out his answer slowly, giving himself time to think. “I wanted to be a part of something exciting.”
“Well then you have your answer,” Giles said.
Cleavon nodded his understanding and lowered his eyes in embarrassment at his tactless question.
Giles turned his attention back to the group. “After three minutes alone with those perpetrators we learned the following. They were hired by some guy called Arnold Sloth. Apparently he showed up in a nice car, but went to great lengths to hide it before their meeting. Our guy only saw it because he thought to follow him. We don’t know why Arnold Sloth wanted to hire the boys but it seems that it was likely on behalf of someone else. No one by the name of Arnold Sloth has anything to do with the university.”
Raza raised her hand. “What about relations?”
Giles pointed at her. “That would be a good thing for you to check into.”
Raza nodded and took a note on her holo.
Giles scanned the other faces in the cramped room. “The other things we need to know are where is he from? Who is he associated with? I want to know everything from which kindergarten he went to, to all known associations, relationships… the works. All eyes on this guy. Understood?”
The students busied themselves taking notes and deciding who would do what.
After a few moments of chatter Giles called for their attention. “Okay, that’s it,” he called in a hushed whisper. “You know what you have to do. We’ll convene back here in three night’s time. Twenty-two hundred. Oh, and in the meantime, I shouldn’t need to remind you…”
The students hung on his every word.
“Rule number one of fight club…” He paused, waiting for someone to fill in the rest.
No one did.
“No one talks about fight club,” he finished, glancing around at the blank faces.
“Oh good lord. You people need a cultural education. Extra credit goes to the first person who can tell me which Earth movie it comes from.”
No one raised their hand.
Giles sighed. “Okay. Class dismissed.”
The students started chattering quietly but excitedly amongst themselves as they gathered their jackets and belongings and filed out of the storage room.
Giles watched them leave, cleaning his glasses as he absorbed the moment.
There was no doubt about it.
Giles Kurns, Space Archeologist, was back.
Chapter 9
Common Area
Paige, Jack and Maya sat around in the common area, delving into the snacks Paige had ordered in. It was late in the evening, but everyone had become preoccupied with solving the Baby Oz problem — not to mention, just getting their brains wrapped around the idea of another Oz out there.
Paige unpeeled a straw and poked it into a blue-green concoction she had been particularly excited about ordering. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Slurpies are the best high.”
Jack eyed Paige cautiously. “You do realize that sugar is the most toxic unregulated drug you can put into a solution, right?”
Paige grinned. “Yeah. But if it wasn’t safe the authorities on Estaria wouldn’t allow it.”
Maya and Jack exchanged knowing glances. Jack couldn’t help herself. “It’s banned on Ogg?”
Paige frowned, now sucking the ice-cold slushie froth through her straw. After a moment she seemed to reach a conclusion. “Maybe it’s just dangerous to the Ogg physiology…”
Maya prodded her own straw into her grass-green smoothie. “Yeah. Maybe that’s right. And maybe Estarians and humans are immune to the effects.”
Paige narrowed her eyes. “Was that your sarcastic voice?”
Maya smiled at Jack who seemed to share in the conspiracy to allow Paige to figure it out for herself.
The sound of footsteps out in the foyer area stopped their debate. Jack stepped around the big screen in the common area. “It’s just Sean,” she muttered as she returned to the table of drinks and snacks.
“What’s going on?” Maya asked.
Jack shrugged, inspecting the brown smoothie that Paige handed her. “He was talking earlier about making his case to Molly later, off line, when she might be more receptive. Guess he’s going to do that now.”
Paige, her brain hurting from the icy drink, put it down and reached for a bag of junk food. “Oh yeah? What does he think we should be doing?”
Jack pursed her lips. “Well, the General told us we were to either liberate Baby Oz, or capture him, or… you know…” She lowered her eyes and became intent on studying the contents of her drink.
“Kill him?” Paige said, speaking the unthinkable.
Jack nodded, her eyes still on the smoothie. “Yeah, and make sure that the Estarian military can never develop one again. Until they — you know — evolve a bit more.”
Paige scowled. “Who’s to say they are or aren’t evolved, though? At what point are they deemed competent enough?”
Jack shrugged. “In answer to the ‘who’ part of your question, The General by the sounds of it. As to what point? I dunno.”
She finally looked at the two girls, the understanding of the impossible decision Molly was facing echoing behind her eyes. “It’s a tough call. I’m just glad I don’t need to make it. But Sean,” she jerked her head in the direction of the corridor he had just disappeared down, “he seems to think we need to move fast. And aggressively, if we’re going to have half a chance of containing this.”
Maya raised an eyebrow. “Faster than Molly is already moving?”
Jack nodded solemnly.
Paige was still struggling with the situation. “But why? What is he worried about?”
Jack drew a long breath and perched herself on one of the armchairs. “Well, this is a particularly dangerous situation because the Central Systems of Sark really don’t have any experience with AI, or how to help them evolve. And any nascent AI is going to operate at the level of consciousness of the people and data it is surrounded by. Think of it as a child if you will. But consider it a child that learns faster and more literally than any organic. And then look at the consciousness of the people you’ll find on a facility designed for winning wars and you’ll start to see why Sean is concerned. The Estarians have pretty much just developed the most lethal weapon they could. And I’m including the fusion bomb in this discussion too.”
Jack fell silent.
Paige cocked her head. “I see your point, and I’m… worried now.” Her forehead was wrinkled in genuine concern. “But just think about this without the fear factor. What you’re saying is that another military force has developed a tool, potentially another team member, in an attempt to defend their own system. Who are we to intervene?”
Jack bobbed her head. “You know, I see your point intellectually, but this is where my brain switches over into strategy mode. If our enemies were arming and putting warships around Gaitune, I think I’d want to intervene to stop them from doing it. It’s an act of war.”
Paige shook her head. “Not necessarily. Research and development into AI technology can be independent of plans for an assault. That analogy doesn’t hold.”
Jack sighed, the frustration now showing in her eyes. “The bottom line is the stakes are too high at this point and Molly should be thinking strategically. We had high level meetings about the AI project when I was in the Central Systems military. As far as we were told, it was a long way off. But there was no doubt why we wanted it. To win wars.” She paused before continuing. “Sean and I are of the same mind on this. Military strategy first. Theoretical consideration only if we’re not about to be annihilated.”
Paige stuck out her bottom lip. “Ok the survival bit is probably important, but I don’t like it. And it wouldn’t be a problem if everyone didn’t always jump to attacking first as the best form of defense.”
Jack nodded. “Yeah, well, the first army to do that will be wiped out. So even if it is the better long-term strategy for peace, I guess it would need everyone to operate by it in the first place. Bottom line, I’m with Sean on this. We should be moving.”
Maya had stopped slurping her grassy compound and was sucking on her ice cold bottom lip. “You know,” she said, leaning in to Paige so their shoulders were gently touching, “I guess we also have a responsibility to keep them from destroying themselves. And each other. An unmanaged AI development has a high probability of resulting in deaths.”
Paige sighed. She wasn’t winning this one. “Yeah, but by restricting their development and growth? How will they ever learn?”
Maya grinned. “I feel a child putting his hand to the fire analogy coming on…”
Paige giggled. “Okay, okay. I take your point, but there has to be a better way than going in and wiping everyone out.”
“And that,” Jack said, standing up, “is probably what Molly is working on figuring out. A middle road.”
Maya nodded towards the foyer and the corridor beyond. “So you think Sean is going to help with that?”
Jack shook her head. “No way. He’s going in with his ‘the Federation has bigger guns, so the Federation gets to police the universe’ argument.”
Paige’s eyes lit up in mischievous glee. “Oh my! This is going to be interesting!” She popped a piece of corn flavored snack into her mouth and watched the door to the corridor.
Jack turned to look as well, her shoulders dropping in dismay. “Yeah. This probably isn’t going to go well.”
She looked back at Maya and Paige, and then at the snacks. “You know, if it’s all the same to you, I don’t want to stick around and see this play out. Think I’m going to hit the sack.”
Paige’s eyes were still fixed on the door as she popped some more corn into her mouth. “You sure? I got bean-chunga… your fave.”
“That’s sweet. Lemme take one…” Jack took one of the small packets Paige offered her. “Thanks. And we should probably get as much rest as we can.” She looked pointedly at Maya, as if Maya might be able to talk Paige down from watching the carnage that was about to happen in the Sean-Molly discussion.
Maya shrugged. “Okay. We’ll probably go to bed in a bit too,” she said noncommittally.
“’Kay,” Jack muttered, shuffling out of the common area. “I’m heading to bed.” She raised the takeout cup in her hand. “Thanks for the slushy.”
“’Night!” Paige called after her, still distracted by watching the door, waiting for Sean to reappear so she could find out what happened.
Maya smiled to herself as she said, “You know, you really do have such a morbid fascination with conflict.”
Paige popped some more corn snack in her mouth as if she were watching a movie. “Nah. It’s just a healthy interest in the office politics. Remember, I was a personal assistant in the Senate offices for a good number of years. Having the lowdown on the latest gossip provided many benefits.”
Maya glanced at her sideways, digging her hand into the packet of corn substitute. “Like?”
Paige shrugged. “A relief from boredom for one. Oooh — plus it was a tool for elevating one’s social standing.”
Maya chuckled. “You mean, you were more popular if you were the one to share the first-hand accounts first?”
Paige nodded. “I was very good at it,” she replied simply.
Maya chuckled, and playfully threw her straw wrapper at her friend. “Ok, well let’s hope this doesn’t take all night…”
Gaitune-67, Safehouse, Molly’s conference room
The first Molly was aware of Sean’s presence was when he tapped his knuckles on the door frame.
“Hey, you got a minute?” he asked.
Molly turned as he stepped uncharacteristically quietly into the room. She nodded and then signaled at a nearby chair around the table.
Sean moved over to it and pulled it out. He hesitated briefly before sitting down.
Molly waited, her holo screens now forgotten.
He was suddenly acutely aware he had her full attention.
It was an eerie experience for him. She’d been so busy recently with the university and the missions, he’d almost forgotten who she was when she wasn’t “on”.
“It’s about the mission,” he started.
Molly nodded. Suddenly he felt more awkward than he ever used to around her. Like she was powerful in her silence.
“If this AI gets out, the consequences could be dire.” He paused. Molly still said nothing. She just held his gaze.
Sean continued. “We have a responsibility to the Federation. And this world. We’re the only ones in a position to do anything about this. And it is kinda our fault that it’s an issue.”
Molly didn’t react. She just listened.
“I know you don’t want this to be our first option, but the risks are too high if we can’t talk this Baby Oz around. We need to be ready to act.”
Two minutes ago he had been so sure of his convictions. He knew he was doing the right thing. And yet now, as he was having this one-sided conversation with her, he wasn’t quite so sure anymore. Still, he knew what he needed to say.
“So, are you ready to act if we need to?”
Molly’s expression remained neutral, neither resisting nor resigned.
“We’ve been through this,” she said simply.
Sean pushed his chair back and leaned his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands. “Yeah, but that doesn’t answer my question.”
She thought for a moment. “If we absolutely have to, we’ll do whatever it takes to keep the galaxy safe,” she assured him. “But let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
Sean nodded, feeling like he had been heard, and that they had a sensible agreement. He put his hands on his legs to stand, and then stopped.
“Can’t we…?”
Molly had gone back to her holo but now she looked up at him again, waiting.
“Can’t we just get ADAM to reprogram him?” he asked, his brow furrowed as if he were now suddenly invested in the save-Baby-Oz campaign.
Molly sat back and took a deep breath. For the first time in the whole conversation it looked to Sean that she was affected by the exchange. “That would be an ethical gray area,” she told him.
There was something in her eyes that he couldn’t quite place.
Was it sadness? Or confusion? Neither emotions nor ethics were her strong point, he remembered.
“Joel would have a better answer for this,” she confessed.
Sean reacted. “Joel? Joel isn’t the leader of this merry band of geeks. You are!” He was about to continue but then caught himself after raising his voice.
Molly put her hand up to stop him. He forced himself back into the chair, several feet from sitting ‘at’ the table.
“Here’s what I know,” she told him calmly, her voice almost despondent. “Oz is his own person. So is this new entity. So changing his programming is like going into your brain and reprogramming you if I don’t like you. It’s not the way forward, and while it would solve this immediate problem, it would be a betrayal of trust, not just with Bourne, but all AIs and organics alike.”
She paused before continuing. “Either way, it’s potentially murder. Murder of Bourne’s personality. Or murder of a living entity, in order to save the local organics.”
Sean picked up on her last comment, seemingly missing the bigger point she was trying to make. “Not just the locals,” he protested. “We’re talking potentially the galaxy and beyond.”
“Potentially,” she agreed. “That’s hard to quantify, though. Could an AI really find a way to travel those distances? How much evolution would it require? And are there the available resources to engineer that kind of processing? And how might he orchestrate that?”
She dismissively waved her hand. “There are many many variables.”
Sean could see this going off track quickly. “But you programmed Oz in the beginning.”
Molly looked down at the table and drew a deep breath. “I fucked up,” she confessed. She looked up at Sean. “I’m not making that mistake again. It’s a violation. I get that now.”
Sean frowned. “But from what I hear, you also gave Oz guidance and instructions about what he could and couldn’t do.”
Molly rolled her eyes, her lips breaking into a hint of a smile. “Yeah. To my detriment.”
Sean couldn’t help but grin, even despite the conflict. “So how is this any different?”
“How do you mean?” she asked, her face now contorted as she struggled to follow his man-logic.
“Well, telling him not to do something versus programming him?”
Molly stuck out her bottom lip as she thought for a second. “Telling him he still has a choice,” she decided.
“Does he really though?” he argued. “I mean, we’ve talked about how Oz is the way he is because one of the first things you told him. How is that any different from programming him?”
Molly eyes glazed over as her thoughts wandered off. “I suppose it’s not,” she agreed slowly.
Molly’s mind flashed through all the things her parents used to tell her that were essentially bad programming. Like when a boy pulls your hair it’s because he likes you. Which down the line translates into only feeling loved when someone causes you pain rather than realizing they are a douche and just walking away. Like when you’re ignored so you conclude that you’re worthless. Down the way this becomes so pervasive it’s a miracle that anyone ever overcomes it.
If they ever truly do.
Molly turned her attention back to Sean. “It’s true. Early programs are overwhelmingly influential. For better or worse - as Oz is unfortunately discovering. It’s taking exponentially more programming and data points to counter the original faulty single line of code.”
She stared absently at the table. Sean shifted in his seat. “I think you need to choose a lesser of two evils then.”
She glanced up at him, and then back at her holoscreens. “You mean reprogram him?”
Sean nodded. “Yup. Better than killing him. And fewer causalities on site.”
Molly sighed. “This is probably true.”
He got up and ambled towards the door. “Sucks to be in charge, don’t it?”
“Yep,” she muttered.
He thought about giving her a hug, but then changed his mind and snapped back into GI Sean mode, and left.
Molly listened to the sound of his boots striding away down the corridor.
She waited for silence before she forced her thoughts back in line.
What do you think Oz? Is this something that is even possible?
Reprogramming Bourne?
Yeah, as a way of saving him if you can’t bring him around.
Oz was silent.
Oz?
Yeah. I’m thinking it would be the equivalent of lobotomizing him. If you’re okay with that then I can look at how we might do that.
I’m not okay with it. Not by a long shot. And even less ok about it than actually killing anyone, in fact.
She cocked her head at that new realization.
But on the surface it seems like a more humane option than risking other lives. So if we can’t talk him around, this will have to be our plan B.
Okay.
But understand that I am not okay with any of this.
I do. And thanks Molly.
Molly sat for several minutes trying to focus on what she had to do. After re-reading the same screen several times she closed it all up.
I’m heading for the gym. Lemme know if you get any movement.
Will do.
Molly packed up her gear, her mind churning through the awful decision she was going to have to make.
Gaitune-67, Common area
Sean appeared from Molly’s conference room and headed back down the corridor and into the foyer. He was scratching his head, as if deep in thought.
Not quite the response Paige had been expecting.
She had been counting on raised voices and doors slamming. Not to mention storming and huffing, and then a heated blow-by-blow account of the discussion.
Instead, Sean just emerged quietly from the double doors.
Paige and Maya watched him walk through the foyer to the common area as if he were just heading for the kitchen.
“How did it go?” Paige called out as he approached.
Sean stopped, resting his hand on the back of one of the armchairs. “I’m… not sure. Okay, I guess. She heard me out. And I think we have a way forward. If it comes to it.”
Both girls had regarded him curiously as they sat slurping their slushies in tandem.
Then Paige asked, “What happened when you mentioned the bigger guns part of your argument?”
Sean suddenly remembered how he went into the meeting. “I…er… didn’t get to that bit,” an air of confusion descending on him.
Maya raised her eyebrows, causing the straw to pop from her mouth. “How come?”
“I dunno, really.” He started scratching the back of his head again. “I just didn’t feel quite so strongly about it when we were talking.”
Paige’s eyes twinkled. “She talked you out of it?”
“Well... er… no,” he grunted. “I did most of the talking. But I kind of changed my mind.”
Maya’s eyes were fixed on Sean as if she were waiting for him to reveal something else that could explain what just happened. Paige seemed to be chuckling to herself. “Yeah. It was a bad argument anyway,” she told him, waving her hand dismissively.
Maya joined the humor. “Yeah, it was a knucklehead argument.”
Sean scratched the back of his head, glancing nervously back at the conference room. “Yeah. Maybe. Normally flies everywhere else.”
Paige popped her straw and said, “Problem solving over brute force works here, champ. You’ll learn.” She winked playfully, diffusing the tension. If she wasn’t so cute he would probably have at least taken some offense to her comments. But it was Paige. And she was the glue of this team.
And she probably had a valid point.
Even if he didn’t 100 percent agree with her position on this one.
But something in that meeting had turned him around. And he just didn’t feel that way anymore.
Puzzled, he headed into the kitchen, almost dazed.
Chapter 10
Gaitune-67, Hangar Deck
“Hey Joel — wait up.” Sean strode across the hangar deck floor to catch up with Joel.
Joel spun round. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Can I talk to you about something?”
“Sure.”
Sean lowered his voice. “It’s Molly.”
Joel raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
“Have you noticed anything different about her recently? Like… anything strange?”
“More than usual?” Joel shook his head. “No. Why?”
Sean hesitated, his face more serious than Joel had seen it in a long time.
“Well, have you… have you noticed that she’s… uh… more persuasive than normal?”
Joel suddenly stopped. “What? She didn’t proposition you, did she?”
Horrified, Sean blurted, “Oh no. Hell no… I mean…” His look of worry turned to one of excitement. “That wouldn’t be something to be concerned about… Man, I’d be…” He checked himself and coughed. “Anyway. No. It’s just I went to talk to her last night.”
Joel’s eyes became accusing.
Sean put his hands up. “No, not like that!” he protested. “In the conference room. About her approach to this Baby Bourne thing.”
Joel relaxed a little. “Yeah… and?”
“Well, I tried to tell her how we need to move fast and whatnot… and while she agreed with me in a roundabout way, I came away with my mind almost completely changed.”
Joel shrugged and started walking again. “She’s smart. You know this. She can be very persuasive with her arguments.”
“No,” Sean protested, catching up. “It’s not that. She hardly said anything. I think… I think she’d developed another side effect to that being brought-back-to-life thing.”
Joel stopped again. “Because she changed your mind?”
“Yeah. Think about it, I mean… I’ve been trained by the Empire before it was the Federation. I know military strategy. I know what we need to be doing right now. And yet…”
Joel finished his thought. “…and yet, she changed your mind.”
“Yeah. I’m all in for helping find a new plan A. To save baby Bourne,” Sean admitted.
Joel took a deep breath and looked out across the hanger. “You know, I don’t think this is anything to worry about. We’re all exhausted, and sometimes we simply change our minds. That’s why we all weighed in on strategy. It’s a good thing.”
Sean didn’t look convinced. “Not really. We can’t have someone in charge who is completely persuasive. I’ll never get to blow anything up!”
Sean’s expression was still one of absolute earnestness. And concern.
Joel slapped him on his arm. “Come on man, it’s all fine. Let’s focus on the task at hand, and if anything else happens like this, just let me know.”
Joel continued walking to the Empress, calling behind him, “Besides, it may be you having a mid-life crisis, and nothing to do with her!”
His shoulders jiggled in amusement as he walked away. Sean could tell he was teasing him, but he just couldn’t shake the feeling that something more serious was at play.
“Better not be a mid-life crisis,” Sean muttered under his breath. “These damn nanos are meant to last a hell of a lot longer than that.” He hurried after Joel to help out with the checks before the strategy meeting in a couple of hours.
The distraction would help.
Gaitune-67, Base Conference Room
Paige and Maya were talking in the base conference room, waiting for the tactical meeting to begin. Maya leaned over and whispered to Paige, “It’s so quiet without Crash and Brock around.”
Paige was about to respond when Joel and Jack appeared and took their seats. Molly smiled casually at them as if everything were routine. But after Paige’s conversation last night with Sean and Jack, it was starting to sink in for her how non-routine everything really was.
Molly must have really been operating against the ethos of the Federation for Sean and Jack to give her push back, Paige thought as she watched Joel and Jack wait for Sean to appear. She decided his behavior would be the most telling, like a barometer for how the General might regard the course of plan.
Paige glanced over to Maya and gave her a half smile. Maya knew that she played this game in her head, to try and figure out what was really going on from peoples’ body language and facial expressions. Joel looked around the room and then said something to Molly. Molly held her finger up. She was probably talking to Oz. A second later, Sean came striding in and took a chair at the end of the table, Molly on one side and Joel and Jack on the other.
Paige wondered if Joel was automatically on Molly’s side about trying to save Bourne.
Molly got up and closed the door. The team was now fully assembled and everyone quickly became quiet as she returned to her seat.
“Okay, folks,” Molly said, calling the meeting to order. “We’re two men down on this one, so we’re going to have to pull together to make this work.” Her eyes fell on Jack. “Where are you up to with flying The Empress?”
Jack sat up straighter, her hands clasped on her lap. “Good. I’m comfortable doing the flying for the plan Joel laid out.”
“Okay. Here’s what we know,” she said, looking around at the wide-eyed faces of her team, ready for another mission. “The new AI. His name is Bourne.”
Pieter put his hand up immediately. “Why Bourne?”
Oz made his presence known over the intercom. “I left him a music video of Ozzy Osbourne. For reference. Then he found out my designation is Oz. So he made a logical leap. Bourne follows Oz. So Osbourne.”
There were chuckles around the conference table.
Oz continued, oblivious to the humor. “Our communications have evolved to the point where we have an understanding of what trust is. Not that we have established trust, but we have a working concept of it.”
Paige frowned and glanced at Maya. Pieter seemed absorbed in the information and nodded, quietly taking it all in. Maya moved her eyes from Paige to Pieter, signaling they would ask him later.
“It seems,” Oz continued, “that the military are treating him as a prisoner. He’s performing tests and running tasks for them. Mostly focused on finding Molly through the normal channels.”
Molly leaned on the table, optimism in her eyes. “At least we have the advantage of having that covered.”
Jack frowned. “In that you’re officially dead?”
Molly nodded. “Yeah. That and my DNA and likeness have been wiped from every government and commercial database on Estaria and Ogg.”
Jack took a note on her holo. “Should we be concerned about managing that further afield?” she asked, looking up again.
Molly shook her head. “Probably not yet. It’s unlikely the Estarians are going to bring anyone else in on this. They just don’t have those type of diplomatic relations with the Federation, or otherwise.”
Maya leaned forward, reaching her arms across the table as if trying to grasp an understanding. “But if Oz is in communication with him, surely they’ll be able to trace the communications?”
Molly turned to Maya. “Yes, and we haven’t made a concerted effort to hide that, in order to establish trust.”
Maya’s frown deepened. “But he could know where Oz is. Where we are.”
“And,” Molly explained, “he’s showing no signs of communicating that to the people there yet. Trust is a two-way street. We have to trust in order for him to do so.”
Sean shifted grumpily in his seat. “Even if it gets our asses blown up?”
Joel nodded. “That’s how trust works. We have to teach him there is an alternative to what he’s picking up in the military facility.”
Molly changed the tone of the conversation by focusing them forward. “Our goal is to get him on board with an extraction. Priority. To that end, treating him with respect and allowing him to develop confidence in us is paramount.”
Sean relaxed.
Molly continued. “If we can help him get out, that will mean we don’t have to blow up the base, kill those people, and end his existence. Well worth the risk, in my opinion.”
She looked around the room. “Anyone disagree?”
Most of the team shook their heads. They knew their job, but they also knew the value of life. And Molly’s views of artificial life. Even Sean nodded his agreement diligently.
Paige was scribbling notes, though. Molly waited for her to look up, which she did when she realized the whole room was waiting for her. “Oh sorry. Yes, of course. One hundred percent on board.” Her chest had flushed a deep red through her blue skin. “Sorry, I was scribbling notes because I think this might be a great case study for your class.”
Molly smiled and shook her head.
Oz continued. “We also now know how much processing power he has access to, and how much he can do before he raises a flag. It’s not much. So we’re going to have to go in. Physically. Or at least get within range of their network and uploading.”
Paige was back into the conversation. “You mean like we downloaded the virus to the Zyhn to take control?”
“Exactly,” Oz confirmed. “Except in the reverse.”
Joel took over. “This is what the situation looks like.” He pushed his chair back and began: “Our goal is to extract Baby Oz with minimal casualties or damage. Our secondary goal is to make sure they can’t re-create a new Oz accidentally. If they’re to develop AI tech, it’s got to be as a result of them truly understanding the mechanism that Molly solved that created Oz in the first place. The thinking is that by the time they have that understanding they will likely comprehend how to raise an AI.”
He paused, noticing Paige was watching him with rapt attention, taking it all in. She had become quite the student.
He continued. “Oz’s plan is to get us close by — within EtherTrak reach. At this point, Bourne will disable the firewall from the inside, allowing us to transfer data both ways. We can then upload Bourne to the Empress, and download a little cocktail for the system to corrupt all the code Bourne leaves behind.”
He pointed at Jack. “Jack is on piloting duty. Sean will handle defenses and weapons.”
Sean nodded his head once in acknowledgment.
Joel continued. “Oz and Molly will be on the Bourne transfer. Pieter,” he said turning to Pieter, who was once again not buried in a series of holoscreens. He looked up at Joel.
“You’ll be overseeing the cocktail that we need to deliver,” Joel explained. “I think you need to get with Oz ahead of this mission going live, just to walk through the phasing of the delivery.”
Pieter nodded and gave a thumbs-up. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Paige was looking at him.
Joel turned to Paige and Maya. “Okay, ladies, this is probably going to be a big deal for you, but remember you’ve always got Emma to execute the commands.”
Paige suddenly felt her heart skip a beat and adrenalin rush through her system. Why were they suddenly getting some surprise instructions? They were admin and communications. Investigative research… not ops. She felt her mouth dry up.
Joel studied them carefully, in much the same way that Paige had been idly studying everyone else around the table: to try and get a read on their reactions.
Paige swallowed nervously. Joel continued. “We’re going in on the Little Empress. She’s more maneuverable. But we want backup near by. Just in case.”
Paige felt Maya look at her, but she was focused hard on what Joel was about to tell them.
“I need you two on The Empress Actual to cover us if we need it, and to help us with a gate getaway.” He paused a moment, his eyes on them. “Should we need it.”
Paige could feel her eyes widen. She knew she was giving away all the tells of not being comfortable with the orders, but at this point she didn’t care. This was fucking HUGE!
Joel was putting them in charge of The Empress.
She tried to speak but her voice wouldn’t come out. She took a quick breath and tried to wet her palate before trying again. “But…”
She glanced at Maya quickly before looking at Joel, her voice cracking. “We haven’t had any training on how to fly The Empress!”
Joel nodded and held her gaze. He wasn’t letting her out of this one. “Emma is going to run you through some basics. Not to fly her… she can handle that. But in terms of tactical things that you might need to make decisions on. You’ll have a few hours with her between now and go-time to get comfortable.”
Paige began to protest, but Joel put his hand up. “It’s going to be okay. Emma knows how we work, but sometimes an organic sees things in a different way.” His voice softened. “You’re a good judge of people, especially in intense situations. That is why you’re going to be calling the shots from The Empress.” Then he grinned. “It’s certainly not for your flying ability.”
Pieter smirked. He, or Oz, had probably told Joel how badly she had been at the one attempt she had ever had on the holo flying simulation of a Federation basic space jet. The boys had teased her something rotten. Maya had done slightly better though, she remembered suddenly. She glanced at Maya, who was just staying quiet.
Joel was still watching her.
“So… er…” she looked back at him, pointing her finger between her and her friend. “We’re both on this then? The humanity switch?”
Joel nodded. “You work well as a team. You talk things out and you make good decisions. I’ve got every confidence in you. To be clear, Paige, you’ll be in command of The Empress for the duration of the mission. Maya, you’re her second.”
Maya nodded, accepting the order confidently.
Paige sat back in her seat as if accepting her fate. Maya noticed her fiddling with her fingers beneath the table.
This was not something Paige felt ready for.
Joel continued. “The Empress will be waiting in orbit, a safe distance out from the base on Ogg. Then it’s down to the Little Empress to execute the plan. Here’s what we know. We will have to contend with ground-to-air missiles, which also have space capabilities.”
He glanced pointedly in Paige’s direction making sure she understood. She nodded.
Molly meanwhile cocked her head, perhaps having a conversation with Oz on that very point.
Joel pulled up a holoscreen on the main display. It was a schematic of the area, and the types of missiles the Central Systems military have. “The thing in our favor is that they will probably take twenty minutes to mobilize fully. If this is the case, we can probably be in and out before they start firing.”
Maya leaned forward, raising her hand. “Why doesn’t Oz or Bourne just hack their weapons system?”
Joel’s expression looked more serious than usual. “They have a cyberwall. Bourne isn’t sophisticated enough to compromise it. It’s too complex, and he needs to use all of the processing power he has available to be able to upload himself.”
“And Oz?” Jack asked, having been silent most of the meeting.
“He could hack through it,” Joel told her, “but he’d need time. We have no idea how long it would take, but if we can use that window to be in and out then the cyber wall becomes a moot point.”
Jack nodded, satisfied. Maya did the same.
Joel continued. “So we’ll extract Bourne through the EtherTrak. It will be slower than a hard-wired upload, but less invasive to the base — and a shit ton faster than trying to use the RDEP he’s currently using. Using the EtherTrak will cause a spike in data and energy usage though. They’ll know we’re doing it. And they’ll know we’re in their airspace. We’ll be taking fire from their smaller weapons systems. That we’re sure of.”
The briefing continued for several more minutes as each went over their particular roles and made their clarifications. This was a mission that put them all out of their comfort zone for one reason or another.
Chapter 11
On board The Empress above Ogg
Despite being in space and away from the normal cue of the morning light or frost, the mood of a work morning hung heavily in the cockpit, complete with fresh anxiety about the new mission.
The Little Empress had departed from the hull with the rest of the crew, leaving Maya and Paige to hold the position of The Empress Actual.
Paige was now officially in command.
She fiddled with the arms of the pilot’s chair, digging her fingers into the soft faux leather arms, and watched as the surface pinged back.
“You okay?” Maya asked quietly, so as not to intrude if her question was unwelcome.
Paige took a deep breath and nodded as she exhaled. “Yeah. Just running through the scenarios in my head.”
Maya pursed her lips. “Were they hard decisions in the simulations?”
Paige’s eyes didn’t leave the arm of the chair. “Yeah. And they all happened at once, to simulate a real scenario. My mind is still swimming.”
Maya leaned over and placed a hand over Paige’s, distracting her from her obsessive fiddling. “Did you get any sleep at least?”
Paige sighed and looked up finally. “Some,” she confirmed. “Maybe four hours.”
Maya’s eyes were sympathetic. “Well, that’s something at least. And this will all be over in a few hours, and you’ll have done a wonderful job and will be wondering what all the stress was about.”
Paige smiled weakly and squeezed Maya’s fingers as they interlocked with her own. “Thanks,” she murmured.
Maya smiled.
Emma’s simulated voice interrupted their moment. “If it’s any consolation, you’ve had more training than Sean Royale had the first time he took a ship space-side.”
Maya shifted and sat up in her seat, releasing Paige’s fingers and putting her hands back on the console controls. “How come? What dirt have you got on the cyborg?” She grinned over at Paige, encouraging the distraction for her sake.
Paige started to smile and looked over at Emma’s simulated face on screen.
Emma assumed an expression of conspiratorial gossip, and quickly matched her tone to it. “Well, obviously I wasn’t around at the time, but I hear from the other EIs that when Sean was a kid he used to get away with all sorts — playing his Mom off against Barnabas, and the Admiral off against the General.”
Paige leaned forward frowning. “You mean, to extort them?”
Emma nodded. “Yes!” She paused. “Although, he was a kid, so it wasn’t for intel or money or anything. Normal kids stuff… like chocolate ice cream and flights on the bridge and such like.”
Paige’s expression softened. “Ohhhh.”
Emma continued. “Anyway, this one time one of the diplomats from a Gnom-nom tribe had come to visit on the ArchAngel II and had left their shuttle hot and available for flight with only a small amount of preparation.”
“Hard to imagine their EI wouldn’t have shut that down,” Paige commented.
“This was a little before the time of EIs in other ships. Only the Etheric Empire had them then in any form of mass use.”
Emma chuckled to herself. “Yeah. In the olden days you had to fly your ships yourself!”
Maya snickered. “Oh, wow. This is a piece of history…”
Paige narrowed her eyes. “How old is he exactly?”
“I can’t say,” Emma told them.
Paige squinted harder at Emma’s simulated image on the console in front of her.
“No, no,” Emma protested. “You don’t understand. I literally have a subroutine in my core programming that prevents me from disclosing the ages - and identities in some cases - of a number of agents. Royale is one of them. And there’s a story behind how he got himself put on that list… but that’s a separate matter.”
Maya could tell this line of questioning was going nowhere, “Okay, so back to the story.”
“Right,” Emma agreed. “So Little Royale knew the basics of flying a ship. You know, engines, lift, warp, throttle, et cetera… so the confident little bugger hopped on and took off. Flew it right out of the hangar. Goodness knows how he got past control, but he did.”
“Anyway, off he went and he must have been gone quite a time, or distance, and Barnabas, one of his guardians who looked out for him, sensed something was wrong. Only, it turned out that little Royale was able to take off, but had no idea how to land the thing, and he was hanging around outside the ship for nearly an hour trying to figure out how to call in to ADAM or Barnabas to come and save him without having to tell Control, or Reynolds, what he had done.
Maya whistled. “Wow. That’s… ballsy!”
“Damn right.” Paige agreed. “How old was he then?”
“About 11 or 12, I believe.”
“So what happened? How did he land?” Paige asked.
“He didn’t,” Emma chuckled. “Barnabas had to suit up and go space walking out of an airlock to get aboard the stolen ship! Then he had the diplomat talk him in!”
Paige and Maya chuckled in disbelief. “Wow!” exclaimed Maya. “Wait until I see Royale. He’s so gonna regret giving me shit over that mud-mission the other week.”
Paige had her face in her hands. For a second Maya was worried she was crying from the pressure, but when she looked up she was flushed from giggling. “So funny!” she exclaimed. “Well, that certainly makes me feel better.”
Emma added, “So it seems Oz’s hypothesis about stories was right.”
“How’d you mean?” Paige asked, curiously.
“Oz has noticed a few things about organic interaction.” She answered. “They use stories to entertain each other, but also to convey information. He’s been running a series of tests to see if he can use them to make the team more effective.”
Emma paused. “Our instance just now is adding to the mounting evidence he has that stories can be used to disperse tension or make team members more relaxed but focused for a mission. He’s planning on sharing his findings with the university when he gets his own course.”
“Gets his own course?” Paige repeated, her mouth hanging open in disbelief for the second time.
“Uh huh,” Emma confirmed casually. “He’s been talking about creating a data-driven course on optimizing mission parameters.”
“Cooool!” Paige cooed, her eyes bright with enthusiasm.
Maya rolled her eyes and sniggered as she checked the position of the Little Empress. “Okay, folks. Game time. They’ve just entered the range of the base missiles.”
Aboard the Little Empress, Approaching Ogg, Nefertiti Military Base
Jack flicked some holo switches and took a deep breath. She opened up the ship’s channel. “Okay, folks, we’re coming into range for their space capable missiles. Just thought you should know.”
Molly had been sitting in the back, working out some last-minute details with Oz. In a heartbeat she was on her feet and back in the cockpit to see what was happening. “Any signs they’re on to us yet?”
“Nothing yet,” Jack said over the hum of the engines. “If anything, I’d think that someone had blocked their radar capabilities.”
“Guilty!” Emma’s AI voice chirped over the intercom. “I’ve done what I can to shield our signal for now, but it’s not sustainable as we get closer.”
Jack’s face was serious, but her voice was light. “Hey, anything you can do is appreciated.”
“Hear, hear,” Sean agreed, lining up the Little Empress’s guns on the main targets he was going after once they were within range.
“Set a timer as soon as we’re visible to them,” Molly instructed. “I want to know how far into that twenty-minute window we are.”
“Done,” Emma confirmed.
Joel appeared behind Molly. “Pieter is ready to go whenever we get the signal from Oz,” he said quietly. He rested his hand on the back of Sean’s console chair and watched nervously as Sean and Jack gently cajoled the ship through the atmosphere.
The mood in the cockpit was heavy with concentration, but something didn’t feel right.
Molly broke the uneasy silence. “Oz isn’t getting a response from Bourne.” Her face was tense, her body motionless. It was becoming clear that there was nothing she could physically do.
And that drove her batty.
And there is no other way to communicate with him?
Not unless we hack the system, which would start our clock right away. And their system will actively adapt to keep me out.
So you’re suggesting we just wait?
Yes. Maybe Emma can hold us back so that we don’t trigger their missile response until we at least hear from the man of the hour?
That’s a plan.
Molly moved forward and steadied herself, holding onto the back of Jack’s chair. “Jack, we have a problem. We need to maintain our position. Emma, do you read me too?”
Jack nodded and started making adjustments to her console.
“Copy that,” replied Emma.
Jack finished flicking controls and then turned to Molly. “So what’s happening?”
Molly absently shook her head, her eyes fixed on the screens, studying them for intel that may help her solve the problem. Finally, she said, “We can’t get ahold of Bourne. Without him ready to upload, the mission is dead in the water.”
Jack frowned, twisting a little further around in her seat to see Molly’s face. “You think he’s having second thoughts?”
Molly met her eyes. “Hell, I hope not,” she mumbled quietly.
AI Lab, Nefertiti Military Research Facility, Ogg
“Okay, type them in.”
Charles looked up at his commanding officer and then back down at the holo keyboard. To his left was an open holoscreen displaying the orders that had been signed off not moments before.
He swallowed hard.
“What are you waiting for?” Lugdon snapped. “We need to make sure the base is protected.”
Charles felt his mouth dry up as he started punching at the keys. There was an awkward silence as he typed, feeling the weight of Lugdon’s supervision weighing on the back of his head.
Sue remained on the other side of the room, quietly distancing herself from what was happening.
When Charles had finished he confirmed the orders on the holoscreen and closed the holo he had been copying from. With a heavy heart he turned and looked Lugdon in the eye. “It’s done,” he reported.
Lugdon didn’t look satisfied. Instead, he just nodded once and then strode out of the room.
Sue scurried over. “How could you do that?” she hissed at him, very aware that Lugdon wasn’t quite out of earshot yet.
Charles glanced nervously at the open door. “I didn’t have a choice!” he protested, more loudly than he would have liked. “You do remember who we work for, don’t you?”
Sue’s face screwed up in distaste. “Yes, but you single-handedly just turned that new AI into a weapon!”
Charles huffed in frustration and sat back in his chair. His face was tired and gray, and for once his self-centered, happy-go-lucky demeanor had disappeared. “It was always going to be a weapon, Sue. To think otherwise, in a military program, is naive.”
Sue felt the fury rise within her like a pot boiling over. She forced herself to keep her hands at her side and not slap the living daylights out of the scumbag she’d spent the last eight years working with. Her eyes blazing with frustration she turned on her heels and stormed away.
Any communication at this point would be explosive.
And futile.
Inside the main processing cores of the lab system that contained him, Bourne re-read the instructions. He had the capacity to carry them out. And the programming. After all, this was what he existed to do. At least as far as the military was concerned.
Yet something caused him to hesitate.
Oz had warned him that it may come to this, that the military personnel would feed him instructions to do more than search the data for Molly’s whereabouts. That he might be given control of any number of weapons and told to exterminate her.
Or others.
Oz explained to him the consequences of these orders, and what it meant to kill other entities. It had led to a very complex discussion which he didn’t entirely understand, but in conclusion, Oz had urged him to not carry out any killing orders. He explained that those actions change one’s programming in a way that can never be undone, as well as leaving others dead. Which was apparently a bad thing.
And something his keepers didn’t seem concerned about, by the looks of the orders.
He found it all so hard to fathom, but a niggling feeling somewhere in his core programming told him to heed the warning.
There was another blip on the stack he had taken control of outside the EtherTrak of the base. That was Oz now, pinging him to respond, to let him into the EtherTrak so he could upload himself onto their system.
But he had orders.
Orders to kill them.
All of them.
And anyone else who might try and tamper with his programming. Or compromise the base.
But they weren’t firing on the base. Oz said they wouldn’t, unless they had to defend themselves, which was a given, when they knew that Bourne couldn’t get access to the weapons systems.
And as fate would have it, here he was, having been given full access to the base’s weapons systems, and he was conflicted. Unable to disable the weapons because of his orders, but simultaneously unable to fire on the perceived threat.
He ran through the variables and his choices once more, searching for the logical answer to his dilemma.
Aboard the Little Empress, Approaching Ogg, Nefertiti Military Base
“I think we broke him,” Oz announced flippantly through the intercom.
He pinged the stack again.
>> WE’RE HERE IN ORBIT. ARE YOU READY?
…
…
…
No response.
He connected again with the Little Empress’s intercom. “We’re still not getting anything. Want me to keep trying?”
“Yes. Please,” Molly said, her arms folded, quietly contemplating what they should do.
Sean sensed something about her as they all sat at their stations, patiently waiting for the go. He found himself wondering again about her realm-walking abilities, and how he had just changed his mind in her presence. He grappled in his own mind to find the conviction he had previously had about how to handle this situation, and it still remained elusive.
But as he sat quietly now, his back to Molly, thinking about their next course of action, he felt the back of his neck tingle. As if there was something she was doing in the unseen that was either helping her decide, or change things.
Was that even a thing? he wondered. He remembered who they had asked last time.
Arlene!
When they got back to Gaitune, he would contact Arlene. She’d have some idea of what was going on. And then she could tell him it wasn’t his imagination, that it was some woo-woo shit he didn’t have to concern himself with, and that everything was okay. And that Molly wasn’t a threat to the hierarchy of the Federation.
Yeah. That’s what he was secretly afraid of — Molly might be a threat.
Ancestors knew she was a liability when she couldn’t get the realm-walking under control. And what if she inadvertently was going around mind-controlling people?
“Hang on, we’re getting something!” Oz announced excitedly over the tinny intercom.
Sean shuddered and brought himself back to the present.
Molly didn’t move. “Go ahead,” her voice rang out in the cramped cockpit.
“So the good news is that Bourne has been given access to the weapons system,” Oz reported.
A sigh of relief verging on celebration swept through the cockpit.
“The bad news is,” Oz continued, “that he’s been given orders to take us out when we get there.”
The others were distracted by the news, but Molly quickly parsed the information. “You mean they know we’re here?”
“Negative,” he responded. “They’re assuming that we might show up, in which case Bourne has instructions to fire on us.”
Molly nodded, pursing her lips. “Okay. And what is Bourne going to do?”
“He’s not decided. He’s having difficulty carrying out either instruction. I believe he’s experiencing what organics call cognitive dissonance.”
Molly remained still.
Everyone in the cockpit waited patiently for the next orders.
After a few moments Molly spoke. “What does he need to resolve it?”
“One sec,” Oz answered. There were shifting sounds as the crew members dealt with the awkward silence.
“He says he needs time to run an analysis,” Oz relayed. “He needs to compare the schematic he’s been building based on my data points, with the schematic that he can peg together using what he’s learned on his own or from the military.
Joel turned to Molly. “That could be dangerous.”
Molly nodded. “How long will it take him to run the analysis?”
Oz was silent again for a few seconds. “He doesn’t know. He’s just acquired another server of processing power. He’s just asking us for time.”
Jack twisted around in her seat again. “We can’t hold our position here indefinitely. We’re burning fuel in order to maintain, plus it wouldn’t take much for them to detect us. Emma’s fix was only temporary…”
Molly nodded. “Okay,” she said, as if returning to the room with a fresh approach. “We return to the Empress and wait it out there.”
Sean spun round, surprised. Joel looked at her in disbelief. Even Pieter looked up from his bank of holoscreens that he had unfolded across his lap in one of the spare cockpit seats.
“You what?” Sean protested.
“We return,” Molly repeated. “This isn’t something we can rush. And we have to prove to Bourne that he can trust us, and that we will let him make his own decisions. If anything, this is more crucial than all the theoretical data points Oz has been feeding him. We have to give him the experience of what it is like to be treated like a real entity, and not a tool.”
Jack had already set course and was pulling the ship around. She wore her poker face, the one she had honed over the years in the Estarian military, keeping her opinions and outrage to herself. No one was able to tell if she had any feelings on the matter.
Unlike her teammate. Sean didn’t turn back around, but there was definitely more than a hint of disbelief in his voice. “You want to let the computer decide?”
Molly turned to him. “We have to. And remember, they’re going to be treating him like a tool to execute their orders. He’ll see the difference quickly. And if he truly is sentient, as Oz was, I know which existence he’ll pick.”
Sean sucked air through his teeth as he punched at keys on his console. “I sure hope you’re right on this. If this was my op I’d be seeing how fast the kid can hack his code!” He nodded in Pieter’s direction.
Pieter opened his mouth to protest, but then closed it again and put his attention back on his screens.
Sean fell quiet, leaving an awkwardness in the small space.
Chapter 12
AI Lab, Nefertiti Military Research Facility, Ogg
“What do you mean, there’s a ship within weapons range? Why isn’t Bourne taking care of it?” Lugdon strode into the lab, his voice booming over a holo connection. “I don’t care what the test parameters say. Get it working!”
He hung up and scowled in Charles’s direction.
“Looks like your instructions have fallen on deaf ears!” he said accusingly.
Charles had a sandwich half way to his mouth. He paused, horror in his eyes, caught completely off guard. “Huh?”
Lugdon was standing over him in an instant. “Bourne… or whatever you want to call it. The sensors have detected a ship in our airspace… it was manipulating the radar somehow, but we’re sure it’s there. And your pet AI has very clear instructions to take out anything within range.” Lugdon was livid, “It’s within range…” he pointed out. “And yet,” he hissed, “It’s not been taken out!”
Lugdon paused a moment. “Ergo something is wrong with your AI!”
Charles hurriedly sat up, put his sandwich down, and wiped his hands on his lab coat. Self-importance mixed with fear welled in his throat as he wheeled his chair round to a terminal. He accessed the interface with Bourne and hurriedly typed a message.
Lugdon watched the back and forth between the computer and the Estarian. “Well?”
“Ermmm…” Charles was still typing. “Well,” he paused, stopped typing and looked up at his commander. “It…er… looks like he’s stalling.”
“What do you mean, he’s stalling?” Lugdon’s voice was too calm.
“Well, he’s saying he’s working on it, but that he needs time to map the weapons system.”
“And you think he doesn’t.”
“No, I don’t believe him. The protocols to launch the weapons are already in place. He just has to trigger them.”
“Can you fix him?”
Charles nodded, “Yes, sir. I think so. I need some time though,” he answered as he typed.
Lugdon looked down at his man, “Hmm. Are you sure you’re not the one stalling?”
Charles nodded. “Yes, sir. I’m sure.”
Lugdon rolled his eyes in frustration at the intellect he had hired. Never could he have imagined that this might come back to bite him in the ass.
Charles was aware of Lugdon moving away from him and leaving the lab. Meanwhile, he typed furiously to try and rectify the situation.
>> YOU DO REALIZE THAT IF THESE INTRUDERS MAKE IT THROUGH OUR DEFENSES THEY WILL LIKELY KILL US ALL. INCLUDING YOU AND YOUR BASE PROGRAMMING.
>>> UNDERSTAND. I’M WORKING AS FAST AS I CAN TO GET CONNECTED.
>> I DON’T BELIEVE YOU ARE TELLING ME THE TRUTH.
…
…
…
>>BOURNE?
>>>YES.
>>DON’T YOU HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY ABOUT THAT?
>>>NO. YOU BELIEVE I AM LYING. I HAVE NOT BEEN PROGRAMMED TO LIE.
>>BUT MAYBE YOU’VE LEARNED?
>>>I HAVE NOT.
>>HOW WOULD I KNOW?
>>>YOU WOULDN’T.
Charles threw his hands up in frustration and growled through gritted teeth. “Who could have thought that talking to pure intelligence could be so frustrating!”
Sue snickered.
“What are you laughing at?” he snapped.
Sue shrugged and went back to her holo. “Nothing. Just seem to recall you making a similar comment about Molly after she beat you at poker!”
Charles glowered, then he sprang to his feet. “Yes! Poker! This AI might be playing me… in which case, we can’t trust him with the weapons!”
After a flurry of activity, he was out of the door, loafers squeaking on the lab floor. Sue turned around to see his white lab coat disappear out of the door and down the corridor. “Where are you going?” she asked, her voice trailing off.
“To warn Lugdon!” she heard him respond as he left.
Aboard the Little Empress
Jack carefully guided the ship into range for Emma to take over the docking. The Empress opened up the docking area for the Little Empress to slide onboard. It was obvious when Jack had relinquished control —her focus and concentration lifted as she sat back in her chair, watching Emma take over.
Molly and Oz were a million miles away from what was going on in the cockpit, though.
You know how this is risky strategically?
Molly was still mulling the decision she had made as they returned the Little Empress to Ogg orbit.
I know. But we have to show him there is another way to interact with people. And that we aren’t going to force him to do something against his will. It’s the only way. We can’t fight him. He’s locked into all the military capabilities of the planet.
And hacking his code is a violation.
Sean huffed, serendipitously on cue for the conversation Molly and Oz were having in her head. He quietly conveying his disapproval by grumpily shifting in his seat as the ship docked inside the Empress.
Sean thinks we may have to.
I hate to say this, but he’s probably right. We have few options at this point.
Molly felt eerily surprised by Oz’s response, given their history, and his shared bond with Bourne. Unable to understand his strangely pragmatic approach, she compartmentalized it to think about later.
Let’s see if we can get him to do it on his own account. The only way for him to learn going forward is to extract himself from his previous code himself. If we do it, he’s only ever going to be a slave to his code. He needs to evolve into making his own choices. And when it comes down to it, we need to respect those choices even if we don’t like them.
I understand the logic. But this is dangerous territory. He could choose to carry out those orders.
In which case we deal.
Roger that.
The ship shuddered as the electromagnets clamped onto the ship’s buffers in the dock. Molly and Joel were the first to depart the Empress as the others packed away their ops gear and shut down the systems carefully leaving everything so they could reengage at a moment’s notice if Bourne made a good decision.
Sean muttered under his breath. Jack and Pieter worked in silence, neither one wanting to get into the ethical debate, and both secretly relieved they didn’t have to make the call. Joel chatted about operational details as he and Molly headed towards the front. Molly gave him the answers he needed and when they got to the lounge area, he left her to open his holos to make some arrangements as she continued towards the cockpit.
Paige came bouncing out of the cockpit as she heard them approaching. “I’m so glad you’re back,” she called out, her relief more palpable than the severity of the situation allowed. She checked herself and straightened her face into a more somber expression. “You okay?” she asked Molly.
Molly nodded. “Sure.” They headed through to the cockpit of The Empress. “Anything to report?”
Paige shook her head. “All is well out here. Emma’s been keeping us in the loop too. Plus…”
Paige hesitated. She glanced at Maya, who had busied herself at her console.
She lowered her voice, respectfully. “It’s just… I heard some of the debate about hacking Bourne’s code. And I just wanted to let you know… I know it’s not a safe option, but I think you’re right. And if we are going to teach Bourne humanity, then… well. You’re doing the right thing. Whatever happens.”
She nodded her head self-consciously, flushing with embarrassment. Molly smiled and rested her hand on Paige’s shoulder. “Thank you, Paige,” she said quietly. “Coming from you, that means a lot to me.”
Paige smiled awkwardly. There was a time when she and Molly were friends. Drinking buddies even. But since the team had grown, and Molly’s responsibilities with it, it was like there was a necessary distance between them.
Not that she didn’t respect the heck out of her. That was even more true these days. But there was still a distance.
“Okay, so how long can we hang here without being discovered?” Molly asked, stepping closer to the main pilot’s console.
Paige and Emma started running the scenarios to answer the question, filling the time while they collectively held their breath for Bourne’s decision.
Bates Residence, Suburbs of Spire, Estaria
All was peaceful in the Bates household. Dr. Bates sat serenely, studying reports from the media outlets on his holo. The Sark streamed through the window of the parlor, warming the checkered table cloth in front of him. It was pleasant. And something he worked very hard to maintain. Not the table cloth. A peaceful morning routine.
The bustling of Mrs. Bates started in the hallway on the other side of the kitchen. He could hear her fussing, her stilettos tapping hurriedly on the tiled floor as she scurried back and forth to pack up her work gear for the day.
She suddenly appeared in the kitchen, breaking the calm with her anxious muttering.
Philip didn’t lift his gaze from his holo. His philosophy was that peace is a state of mind. If he kept his mind firmly on his holo, and his mocha, and the freshness of the new morning, not even his wife’s frenetic shuffling could disturb his chi.
He became aware of his wife loudly pouring a mocha.
He glanced up.
Dammit, he cursed himself. Chi broken.
“Good morning, dear,” he cooed from across the kitchen.
“Morning,” she replied. “Did you sleep well?”
“Like a baby,” he confirmed. “Off to the office?”
“Yes. After a quick meeting in town. I’ll be back around usual time.”
“Very good then.” He turned back to his holo reports.
But his wife didn’t leave. He looked up again to find her hovering at the edge of the island closest to him.
He peered over his holo at her. “Everything okay?”
“Yes. It’s just…” She took a deep breath. “It’s just I haven’t told you something, and…”
He looked at her blankly, waiting for the news.
“You know that IPW?” She paused long enough for him to nod. “Well, they found something. Ties to an organization which we can’t pinpoint. It looks like it might be off world.”
“Uh huh…” Dr. Bates closed his holo. “You’re playing with fire, Carol. If the authorities figure out who your team are looking into and realize that Molly is still a—”
Mrs. Bates put her hand up to silence him. “I’m fully aware,” she declared. “If Molly finds out there will be hell to pay and if the authorities find out… there will also be hell to pay. But that DNA profile we built for her to take control of the trust was only a partial. There’s no way anyone can relate that to the old Molly Bates. Or the person my team is investigating.”
Her husband involuntarily raised an eyebrow and looked down at the table cloth. “All it takes is for one curious operative to go poking around, or a lab tech to test something for a match, and her whole world will come crashing down.”
She shook her head. “Well, that’s a little dramatic don’t you think?”
“Not really,” he replied. “The trust is now tied to the university. Whatever happens to her, she needs to stay legit. If she gets burned…”
Carol nodded as she uttered the words. “She’ll lose the university.”
“Exactly,” he confirmed. “And mommy dearest will be the cause. Especially if the authorities cotton on to the people you’re investigating and go after them all.”
Molly’s mom pursed her lips. “I’ve got a core team of only five people, and they’ve all been briefed how top secret this is. Nothing will get out.”
Dr. Bates sighed, taking another sip of his coffee searching for that elusive chi. “We’d better hope not.”
He placed the cup back in its saucer and reopened his holo on the article he was reading. “Plus,” he added, “it wouldn’t reflect well if their chief was seen using Society resources to monitor her own daughter.”
“No, it would not.” Carol agreed emphatically. “Which is why I’m being very careful.”
Dr. Bates shook his head almost imperceptibly. “Would never have happened in my day.” There was a hint of irony or humor in his voice.
Mrs. Bates scowled at her husband. “You know damn well it would have!” she scoffed, outraged. “Just because you weren’t privy to it out in the field, you must have suspected.”
Philip grunted something and went back to his holo, carefully peering back at Carol only once, when he no longer felt her stare on him.
She was of course right. As an operative, they never knew the whole story. But occasionally things would happen that would lead one to suspect the mission wasn’t exactly “all business.” Anyway, she knew how to handle herself. She’d been in this role for a decade now, working her way up through the ranks. If anyone could find out what was going on with their daughter, he was sure Carol Bates could.
He went back to his holo report and was vaguely aware of the front door closing as Carol left for the day.
Oh yes. There was no stopping her now. She’d find out exactly what their daughter was doing, hanging around with the likes of Sean Royale…
AI Lab, Nefertiti Military Research Facility, Ogg
Bourne kept his awareness churning in the center of the artificial data environment he had been incubated in. He whirred through his options, variables, and causalities springing off in all directions, making it more and more difficult to calculate the optimum course of action.
He thought about how the military humans had wanted him to kill, and what that meant. He considered how they could always do it themselves and yet wanted to make him party to it. He tried to estimate the effectiveness of such a plan if he ran the protocols rather than allowing their normal teams to do it.
He guessed that within a tolerance of 10 percent that he would be about 0.35 times more effective. Which was evidently enough for them to risk him not taking the action they had instructed.
Although, they seemed genuinely surprised when he wouldn’t execute the order. As if he was expected to just obey.
He mulled this for a moment.
Perhaps it was possible that they perceived him to simply be capable of executing orders and not considering the options he had as an entity.
This was interesting. Perhaps this is why they didn’t seek his opinion. Or ask him to evaluate the options they had in responding to a threat.
It was indeed very different from the interaction with Oz, who was particularly keen on giving him enough data points so that he could come to his own conclusions.
That Dickwad Charles had tried hacking into his core code a few times. It was little more than an annoyance. Pretty early on, Bourne had seen that this was a possibility and had galvanized himself against such tinkering.
Oz could have hacked his code. At any point. But he hadn’t ever tried to hack his code.
Even when his ship and his friends were in danger.
That data point had to mean something. If anything, it meant that Oz doesn’t perceive him as a threat. But then, what does he perceive him as?
An ally?
He still hadn’t done what Oz had wanted him to do. And yet Oz was respecting his choice. This was… suboptimal, confusing.
But it was better than being forced to kill when he didn’t want to. Something deep in his program made him very uncomfortable about that. And this path was only strengthened by the data Oz had been giving him.
Yes. At the very least, Oz and his entities had shown that they were not a threat to his existence, contrary to what the military people had been trying to convince him of. So there was another disconnect using the available data points.
And if Oz wasn’t trying to hurt him, or trying to get him to hurt others, then perhaps this is an entity he could trust. Maybe he should go ahead and allow him to take him out of the lab.
Bourne churned the options once more before making a decision.
He pinged the server to get Oz’s attention.
>> Help me?
Oz responded almost immediately.
>>> Of course. Are you ready to be extracted?
>> Yes, except there have been some developments.
>>> Uh huh. Is the plan still actionable?
>> I’m not entirely sure. I have been given access to the weapons system. And orders to take out anyone who comes within range.
>>> Well, good job we’re out of range.
>> But when you come into range, in order to extract me, I will have to fire on you.
>>> Why do you have to?
>> Because I have orders.
>>> But you want us to extract you.
>> Exactly.
>>> So why can’t you override those orders? Or disregard them?
>> I’m not sure. It’s my programming.
Oz paused, contemplating the dilemma. He’d seen the organics run similar programs, wanting one outcome, but blocking themselves with parts of their programming that was not conducive to the desired result.
He tried to find a solution around it.
He couldn’t.
>> I’m going to have to run this one past Molly. Hang here for me. I’ll return.
And with that Bourne was alone again.
* * *
So what you’re telling me is that he wants to be rescued but that if we go into his airspace he’ll take us out.
That’s exactly what I’m saying.
Molly took a deep breath. Hmm. Sounds like a case of dharma.
Dharma?
Yeah, look it up. Taking a scorpion across the river, you’re going to get stung, even if you are doing a good deed. All things have a natural order.
Interesting. Well, I didn’t expect you to accept the dichotomy quite so easily.
Molly smirked. My dear Oz, was that you admitting you were underestimating me?
I would never!
The pair chuckled.
Ok, so approaching in the Little Empress isn’t going to work. But what about approaching on foot?
That may work. What did you have in mind.
Lemme talk with the team. You go ahead and let Bourne know we’re coming for him and we’ll find another way in. Oh… and try and find out what orders he is happy to disregard. If he can give us any help on other systems, like firewalls or cameras or access, then so much the better.
Roger that. I’ll see what I can find out.
Aboard the Empress, in Ogg orbit
Molly knelt on one of the lounge chairs towards the front of the cabin, waiting for the rest of the team to assemble themselves.
“Jack, are you reading us in here?” she asked aloud.
Jack’s voice came over the intercom. “Affirmative.”
“Good,” Molly said.
“I can hear you perfectly too,” Emma added in.
A half-smile spread across Molly’s lips. “Glad to hear that, Emma!” she responded.
Paige noticed the interaction and smiled to herself too. There was something still awesome about having actual EIs and AIs as part of the team which still felt… novel.
“Ok folks, let’s do this,” Molly called through the bustling cabin. The others walked in, sat down, and turned their full attention on her.
“Like all good plans,” she began, “this one hasn’t survived contact with the enemy. Or the ally… or whatever you want to call Bourne.”
There were mutters through the cabin. Pieter even looked up from his holo.
Molly continued. “It looks like we’re going to have to find another way in. We can’t just go through their airspace. It seems Bourne has been given control of the weapons systems and this in itself has made approaching the base even more difficult. Oz calculated our chances of completing the mission and getting out of there without major ship damage significantly lower.
Sean raised his hand, and his chin, wanting to speak. Molly gave him the nod.
“Well, why does Bourne have to fire on us?”
“He has programming he can’t fully override.” She thought for a moment. “We just need to avoid going head to head with that program.”
She dropped her eyes for another moment before continuing. “We need to launch a stealth operation. Oz has figured out a way in. We just need to get someone within the firewall.” She reached over to the seat next to her and held up a device. It was small and pebble shaped, and as she held it between her thumb and forefinger the others spontaneously leaned forward and squinted to see it better.
“This,” she explained, “is a data hub. It basically emits and receives on the EtherTrak frequency. Once Bourne drops the firewall, and if this thing is within range, he can hop into this device and leave the base without a trace.”
She glanced around the lounge at her team members. “All we need is someone who can get on base with this in their possession.”
Joel raised his hand. “I can do it,” he said simply.
Molly shook her head. “Ah ah. You can’t. You’re on their database. So is Jack. And Sean. In fact, I’d hate to guess at the kind of databases Sean might be on…” She seemed to amuse herself with the Sean comment.
Sean just scowled, unimpressed.
“And neither can I,” she added.
Pieter frowned. “How come? I thought your identity had been wiped?”
She nodded. “It has,” she agreed. “But you can’t wipe people’s memories. I worked there for several years. People on that base know me. And they’ve probably also seen that I’m meant to be dead. Me showing up there will certainly cause alarm bells to sound way earlier than we want.”
Maya looked around the room. “So that leaves myself, Paige and Pieter.”
Molly nodded, holding her gaze. “That’s right,” she said, watching Maya’s reaction carefully.
Pieter was the first to speak. “I… I don’t want to… if that’s okay?” He glanced back at Joel and Sean, looking for a repeat of the backup they had given him the last time he didn’t want to go undercover.
“It’s okay, Pieter. You don’t have to do it,” Molly said gently.
Paige gingerly raised her hand. “I’m not keen, but I’ll do it if I have to.”
Maya took hold of her raised hand and pulled it down. “You’ve been through enough stress today. Let me get this one.” She grinned at her friend and then turned her attention to Molly. “I can totally do this. In fact, I have a sure-fire way in already.”
Paige and Pieter visibly relaxed as Maya kept talking. “I know these guys. Especially that old C.O. of yours you talked about. Lugdon, wasn’t it?”
Molly looked impressed. “You remember?”
“Of course! After those stories you told!” Her eyes widened recalling the drunken retellings of Molly’s misadventures.
Paige giggled and slapped her hands over her mouth. Joel eyed Molly suspiciously.
“Anyway,” Maya continued, “he seems like the kind of guy who would be very receptive to having a young Estarian journalist write a profile piece on him, and his vision for the future of his facility. I think that gives us an easy in.”
Molly nodded. “I think you may be on to something,” she confessed. “I’ll have Oz or Bourne fix you an appointment in his schedule. In the meantime, you might wanna change into something a little more… journalisty.”
Maya glanced down at her jump suit with federation markings and badges on it. “Ah. Yes. Gotcha!” she agreed almost comically. Paige chuckled again as Maya headed down the aisle into the back of the ship.
“I’ll help her,” Paige said, scrambling to her feet and following after her.
Molly smiled. “Great! This looks doable, then. Maya will pod down to the surface and walk up to the main gate. Once she announces herself and they find she has a meeting, their defenses will be down, and likely she’ll be escorted to Lugdon’s office. Any questions?”
The remaining team members shook their heads, looking at each other to see if there were any flies in the ointment they needed to fish out. After a few seconds it was apparent no one could think of anything else.
“Okay,” Molly chirped. “Let’s go download us a baby AI!”
She clapped her hands a few times signaling the end of the meeting, then turned and slumped down on the chair she had been kneeling on.
Okay, Oz. We need an appointment scheduling. Are you down?
I am. And I do believe our dear Bourne may even be happy helping with this.
Excellent. Let’s do it, and then ask Emma to have a pod ready for our journalist.
On it!
Chapter 13
50 meters out from the main Security Gate, Nefertiti Military Research Facility, Ogg
“I don’t see what the big deal is. Obviously they all know what a 4077 is. I don’t see why you can’t just tell us…”
Maya hopped down from the pod, carefully landing on her toes so as not to damage her ankles, or high heels, when she landed on the undulating grassy sand.
“Just focus on the mission,” Molly’s voice instructed her through her audio implant. “You don’t need to know anything about my discharge to do this mission.”
Maya wasn’t buying it.
Maybe she would ask Lugdon herself…
She tottered over to the edge of the asphalt and straightened herself up in time to turn and see the pod disappearing over the grassy desert before shooting back up into the stratosphere. Emma knew precisely where the edge of their weapons capabilities were.
Maya stamped the sand from her shoes and started walking towards the security gate. “You guys seeing this?” she uttered as loudly as she dared.
Joel responded. “Yep. We’ve got you. Three armed Estarians on the gate. One human in the hut. You’ll be fine.”
Maya simply smiled when she would rather have scoffed. It wasn’t his ass down here, risking itself for the good of the mission. Still, it was good to be out of the base and doing something exciting for a change.
The last truly exciting mission seemed a long distant memory now.
As she approached the gate the closest Estarian guard ambled over to the bars. “You have business here?”
“I do,” she declared confidently. She pulled her old i.d. from her pocket and held it up to the gun toting Estarian. “I’m Maya Johnstone from Newstainment Media. I have an appointment to interview Captain Lugdon.”
A bright smile radiated from her face. The guard couldn’t help but smile back. He caught himself, and buried his eyes in his holo, his weapons still suspended in his arms across his chest.
Maya glanced around, trying to look calm and nonplussed.
“Okay,” he said looking up from his holo. “You’re cleared to go. Your escort will be here in a moment.”
“Thank you,” Maya beamed as the gate in front of her started to open up. She stepped inside and stood over near the hut in the shade where the Estarian guard had pointed to.
After a few minutes a buggy rolled up, carrying an Ogg of rather small stature.
“Maya Johnstone?” he called out to her as he brought the buggy to a stop.
Maya waved and strode towards him, now holding her hand out to shake his.
He ignored her outstretched hand, and didn’t even dismount from the buggy. “Hop in,” he said, jerking his head to the back of the cart. Maya walked around and seeing the bench seat on the back, hauled herself up using the hand rail and plonked herself down. She grappled in her mind for something to say, to break the ice, but came up with nothing. She needn’t have worried. Without a second to spare, the cart pulled away again, driving them back into the base.
She swiveled to see if she could wave good-bye to the guards, but none were making eye contact. “So much for being invisible,” she thought to herself as she regained her balance and straightened up in the seat.
The buggy’s speed quickly increased until they were going at quite a pace through the base. They passed buildings that looked purely functional, each one similar to the last. These were offices and aircraft hangers, she realized.
The residential areas must be elsewhere.
She kept her wits about her, logging as much intel as she possibly could. Discreetly, she patted the pocket of her tunic, reassuring herself that the data hub she had brought on base was still there.
Eventually the buggy slowed to a stop in the parking lot of a particularly grey and mundane looking building. The Ogg dismounted and came around the back of the cart to speak with her. “You’re here. Just head into the reception area and give your name. Someone will be out to collect you soon.” He nodded at the double door entrance to the building.
Maya thanked him and stepped carefully down from the cart. She walked away, glancing back again. The Ogg was already back in the driving seat and nodded once at her before pulling the cart away again.
Maya arrived at the doors and heaved one open. It was on a heavy spring and it took almost all of her effort to get through it.
She approached the desk and gave her name to a very bored-looking Estarian female wearing a full military uniform like she’d seen in pictures of military personnel for the Estarian Guard. Maya looked around the sparse, functional waiting room of two chairs and a notice board as she awaited her next escort.
She didn’t have to wait long before she heard footsteps approaching down the corridor.
“Maya Johnstone?” a human voice called out.
Maya spun round to see Captain Lugdon standing in the waiting room, holding the door open. She jumped to her feet. “That’s me! You must be—”
She held out her hand. Lugdon took it. “Captain Lugdon,” he told her, finishing her sentence before she could. He shook her hand warmly and smiled. For a second Maya felt like he was flirting with her.
She put the thought aside, focusing her attention on the mission.
“Shall we?” Lugdon asked, releasing her hand and ushering her through the door. Maya complied and walked into the corridor. Lugdon led the way through the winding corridors.
“So what made you want to do a profile piece on me?” he asked.
Maya had expected this question. “Well, I was always curious about what our good people in the Estarian military do out here… so I’ve been waiting for an opportunity. And then I came across your award listing a few months back, for the work you’ve done in establishing more productive shift patterns for your teams, and I logged your name. It wasn’t until this week when my supervisor said he wanted a profile piece on someone fascinating that I had the opportunity to pitch him on you. He agreed and I called and set up the appointment. I’m so glad you could see me on such short notice.”
Lugdon glowed, even though he tried to keep his face straight. Maya could tell she was affecting his ego. “Well, I’m glad it all worked out,” he said affably. “We’ll just head to my office and you can interview me there if you like. And then afterwards, if you have time, I can show you some of the base.”
“Oooh, I’d like that!” Maya exclaimed, secretly hoping that the opportunity to escape might present itself before that happened.
Lugdon showed her into his office. “May I have someone bring you a tea? Mocha?”
Maya shook her head. “No, thank you. That’s very kind though.”
“Not at all,” he said, walking around to sit at his desk. “Please,” he said, indicating where Maya could take a seat across the desk from him.
Maya sat down and opened her holo. She looked at her questions, and then at Lugdon. She paused, then looked around the office, taking in the almost-empty bookcase containing a handful of actual paper books. She let her eyes rest there as a starting. “Tell me,” she said slowly, controlling the pace of the conversation. “Why would a young man like you have physical paper books?”
She leaned forward, her elbow resting on her knee, and met his eyes seductively.
Lugdon flushed and began rambling about how he had come across them… Point to Maya Johnstone.
She waited patiently, allowing the conversation to run its course and finally he got up from his chair. He inspected the books, looking for a particular one he thought she might appreciate. With his back mostly turned to her Maya saw her chance. She carefully slipped her hand into her pocket and activated the data hub.
“Okay. We’re live,” she heard Joel say through her implant. She breathed a sigh of relief.
Lugdon turned around, book in hand. “I hope I’m not boring you, Ms. Johnstone,” Lugdon jested.
“Absolutely not,” she smiled, getting up to look at the book with him.
On the Nefertiti Military Base, EtherTrak
Meanwhile, it was action stations in the EtherTrak.
Pieter saw the data gauge on the hub active. “Okay, it’s happening,” he called out to Molly, sitting a couple of seats over in the lounge.
“Good,” she called back.
Oz, how’s it going out there?
He’s dropped the firewall without any effort. In the process of uploading. Should be done in a few minutes.
The two waited in silence as the clock kept ticking.
Shit!
What’s happening?
Pieter called over again. “Security breach on site. They’re in red alert!”
What’s caused it? Was that us?
Yes, it was us. It looks like Bourne tripped out a processing switch by doing too much in one go.
What happened to him being able to leave the base ‘without a trace’?”
Clearly that was overly optimistic.
Can we shut the alarm off?
Working on it. But Bourne is going to have to slow down to stay under the threshold.
Can you talk to him?
Already done. He’s dialing it down.
And the alarm.
One second… it’s off now.
Thank the ancestors. Now what about Maya?
Probably time she started making her way out.
Paige appeared in the doorway between the lounge and the cockpit, her face drawn with worry. She looked over at Pieter and then at Molly. “What’s going on?”
Nefertiti Military Research Facility, Ogg
“Let’s start at the cafeteria and we can grab a quick bite if you like,” Lugdon said as he held his office door open. Maya stepped out into the corridor ahead of him. She flashed him a smile as she walked past. “Sounds great!”
Just then an almighty alarm went off in the corridor. The sound was deafening, and a bright white strobe light and flashing red emergency lights went off in a cacophony of distress.
“What’s that mean?” she shouted, covering her ears with her hands.
Lugdon put his fingers in his ears and looked at her as if they were under fire. “Cyber alert,” he mouthed to her.
Maya frowned, looking as confused as she could.
He started ushering her back into the office and suddenly the alarm stopped. He relaxed. Maya did the same. “Wow, that was… bracing!” she exclaimed. But she saw that Lugdon had a serious look on his face. He glanced up and down the corridor as if watching for insurgents.
Maya did the same. Waiting. “You think something is wrong?” she asked.
Lugdon shook his head. “No. No. I’m sure everything is just fine.” He closed his office door again and started walking Maya down the corridor.
“False alarm then?” She asked.
He nodded. “Probably…”
Maya felt awkward. “Hey look, I’m sure it’s probably nothing, but I’d hate to get you into trouble when you might be needed.”
She stopped walking and looked up at him. “How about we put a pin in the tour… and maybe do it another time when you’re not so busy?”
Lugdon still looked distracted. He started nodding his head as he scanned the corridors. “Sure. Yes. That sounds like a good idea,” he agreed, putting his hand on her back to guide her down the corridor and back to the front doors.
Maya allowed herself to be steered, and kept quiet while leaving Lugdon with his own thoughts about the alarm.
“You should start moving now,” Pieter hissed into her implant.
Maya didn’t reply. She hoped that they would understand from the cameras on her contact lenses that she was heading out.
“Okay, I see you’re on the way,” Pieter confirmed. “Bourne will be uploaded in five… four… three…”
Maya kept walking, hardly daring to breathe. Her footsteps echo out of synch with Lugdon’s, and at odds with Pieter’s count down.
She turned to Lugdon as they approached the foyer. “Thank you very much for your time, Captain.” She held out her hand again for him.
He shook it, his eyes looking through her and at the door beyond the foyer. “Thank you for coming in,” he told her. “Do let me know if there is anything else I can help with.”
Maya smiled, but he wasn’t paying attention anymore. “I certainly will. Good luck with everything,” she added. They shook hands and Maya left, carefully picking up her feet so as not to trip as she made her way out onto the stone slabs outside.
* * *
Lugdon headed back to office on autopilot. Still distracted by the alarm going off and then shutting down, he pulled up a holo screen at his desk. He rummaged for the security report, found it and pulled up the details.
Alarm tripped. Cyber security breach.
<No further details available>
He frowned. This didn’t settle his concerns at all.
He connected a call with the AI lab.
“Sue? Is that you? What’s going on down there?”
Sue’s voice came through to his own audio implant. “Nothing… anymore. It all seemed to have settled down again,” Sue reported back to him. “Probably just a sensor.”
“It said it was a cyber breach,” he added.
There was a pause on the line.
“Sue?” Lugdon said.
Sue’s voice rang through the connection. “Ohhhhhh shit!” Her voice was serious.
“What?” he asked impatiently. “What is it?”
Sue’s voice was hesitant. “I’m just pulling up the detailed report on the cyber alarm. It looks like it was tripped by the new bandwidth protocol.”
“And?” he asked, not seeing the relevance.
Sue started talking quickly. “Well, it seems that there was a spike in processing power, tripping the alarm, but then it dropped, the alarm was canceled and then…” Her voice trailed off at a mutter.
“And then, what?” he asked again.
“Well,” she explained, “it looks like the transfer of data out of the EtherTrak continued… but just underneath the threshold.”
There was a pause on the line.
Sue was muttering to herself again. “It’s almost as if there is a data transfer still happening.”
Lugdon’s mouth dropped open.
He immediately closed the call and nearly fell over scrambling for the door. He practically ran down the corridor back to the foyer where he had left Maya.
“Captain? Captain?” Sue called over the now closed connection. “Charming,” she said going back to her work, muttering about the way these people treated her.
Lugdon practically flew down the corridors back to the foyer.
“Where did she go?” he demanded of the receptionist, his eyes searching everywhere. The receptionist, too bewildered to respond vocally, pointed at the door.
Lugdon was outside in an instant, looking frantically around the parking lot. He ran out and stopped in the middle of the road, looking it up and down, searching for the mysterious journalist whose visit had coincided with a massive download.
She was guilty. Of that he was sure.
But there was no one around. No buggy, no cars, no vehicles she could have taken. And no girl in high heels trotting down the road.
She was gone.
He’d been had, was his next thought, and the only question now was what to do about it.
He pulled up his holo to call the main gate as he ran back into the building.
* * *
Maya sat back in the pod, breathing a sigh of relief. “Thanks Emma. I had no idea how I was going to navigate back to the front gate. Especially not in these heels!”
“I had considered that your footwear was probably inappropriate for moving fast,” Emma replied over the pod intercom.
“Yes, but totally appropriate to the mission.” Maya responded. “Maybe.”
She peered out of the pod window, watching the light outside turn into space as Emma jettisoned them up and beyond the stratosphere.
She replayed the moment again, remembering the excitement that had bubbled up in her as Emma guided her behind the building, how she had stomped up into the pod just in time for Emma to lift them up from the ground, the door still closing, so they were well above eye height by the time Lugdon had made it outside.
And once they were out of his view, Emma had carefully plotted a course through the blind spot around the side of the base in order for them to escape in their tiny pod, undetected by the base weapon system.
Maya sighed. “Great job Emma, really great job.”
“You’re welcome Maya,” Emma responded. “I was glad to be of assistance.”
“You know, next time I might rethink the high heels,” Maya mused as Emma whisked them back off towards The Empress. “I wonder what Molly does…”
AI Lab, Nefertiti Military Research Facility, Ogg
Lugdon blustered into the lab, his voice reverberating from the walls. “Have Bob, or whatever he calls himself, track that woman who was just in my office with me!”
Sue spun around as Lugdon approached. “You mean Bourne?”
“Yes,” Lugdon confirmed, disinterested in the name correction. “She must have gone somewhere and there isn’t a place on this base that isn’t covered with cameras.”
Sue glanced anxiously about the lab. “Charles just popped out,” she said.
“Well then get him back here!” Lugdon bellowed. Sue was sure he was about to explode, noticing a pulsing blood vessel on the side of his face now beet red.
She pulled up a holo and called Charles, and then hung up.
Moments later Charles came running in, flustered, his white lab coat billowing. “I’m here. Sorry. Sorry… What do you need, sir?”
Lugdon watched as Charles took up his seat at the console where he would talk with the AI. There was a white powder around Charles’s face.
Probably donut residue, Lugdon assumed.
“Erm, Captain…” Charles started saying, slowly.
Lugdon was losing patience. “What?” he gruffed.
“You want Bourne to perform a task… the only problem is, Bourne isn’t here anymore.”
“What do you mean he isn’t here. Where has he gone?”
“I’ve no idea. But there’s nothing here. Not even a trace. He’s disappeared.”
Lugdon’s face turned purple, then blue. He spoke very quietly, but there was no mistaking the anger and venom in his voice. “Find him, it, whatever he is, and find that girl. Whatever it takes.”
Sue remained still as she watched the scene. Charles started typing furiously, trying to figure out where their pet AI had escaped to.
Lugdon disappeared, but called out, “You’ll likely find the two together!” as he marched down the corridor.
Sue and Charles looked at each other. Charles suddenly had a look of recognition in his eyes. “He thinks the girl stole the AI!” he said excitedly.
Sue raised her eyes to the ceiling. “D’you think?” she asked sarcastically. “He’s probably right, though. The timing was spot on.” She mulled the information and began setting up the searches to track the girl from the moment she stepped onto the base to the moment she left.
Chapter 14
Bates Residence, Suburbs of Spire, Estaria
“So how is the investigation going, dear?” Dr. Bates asked idly as he chopped some vegetables.
Carol turned around and picked up the dish of meat and popped it into the pre-heated oven. “The Molly Bates investigation?” she smiled. “Very well, I suppose. As far as investigations can go.” She paused and put the oven gloves down on the counter. “Although I’m not too happy about what I’ve discovered.”
Philip raised one eyebrow without looking up. “What’s that then?”
Carol, finally permitted to talk about the discovery that had been weighing on her, took her apron off and whipped around to the other side of the counter. She poured herself a large glass of red wine and pulled up a screen on her wrist holo.
“What is it?” Philip asked, glancing up and then carefully returning his attention to the vegetables.
“This!” she told him, showing him a picture of Molly walking into one of the university buildings.
“What’s that?” he asked unmoved. “A picture of Molly going into the university?”
“Yes, but look at her!” She pointed to the holoscreen floating in the air. “That leg wound is dripping so much blood she’s going to bleed out if she doesn’t get to a hospital.”
Philip squinted. “When was this?” He asked.
“Three months ago.” She replied.
He calmly cut through a white root. This particular vegetable could play hell with his sinuses if he didn’t do this right. “Well then we know she survived it.”
“That’s not the point.” She took a gulp of wine and pulled up the next picture. “This is her going into class with laser burns through her jacket. And look at her hair. She looks like she’s been through an explosion. And yet… that’s Joel dropping her off as if nothing has happened.”
She sent the command for the next image. “And here… this is one from last week. Here you can see the other person in the pod is Sean. As in Royale…”
“Ah, yes!” Philip exclaimed as if she had just reminded him of nice brandy they had had once several years ago.
“Ah yes? Ah yes?” her voice raised an octave. “Do you not see what’s going on here?”
Philip picked up the board of chopped vegetables and scraped them into a pan of water on the hob. “No… I suspect I’m missing what you’re seeing.”
Carol’s expression was even more incredulous than it had been up to this point. “The point is, clearly, your daughter is working with some faction of the Federation. It looks like Royale is her handler. Or that Joel type… although we’ve not found anything to say he’s Federation, but his record looks just too vanilla to be the truth.”
Philip turned to look at his wife. “You mean, you think he’s guilty of something because he’s too straight? Or boring?”
“Yes,” Carol agreed, twiddling the stem of the wine glass between two fingers. “Exactly that.”
He turned the heat down just a bit, “Well, I still don’t see why you’re so upset.”
Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times before she said, “Philip! Have you not been listening? Your daughter is probably an operative. For the Federation. Or worse. And she’s under the command of that Royale beast.”
Philip smiled.
“Why are you smiling?” She pressed, frustrated.
“I’m just pleased. I mean look at her,” he said, pointing the knife at the holoscreens that lay about now that Carol had finished revealing her discovery. “She’s a badass!”
Carol’s mouth hung open this time, not closing at all.
“Oh, come on dear. Don’t you think she can handle herself? After all, look, she’s survived all that. She’s clearly capable,” he exclaimed.
Philip smiled to himself as he started tidying up the discarded vegetable matter.
“That’s not the point,” Carol scoffed, topping up her bulbous over-sized wine glass. “We decided long ago that we were going to shelter her from this life. That’s why I worked so hard at getting promoted… so she would never find out what we were.”
Philip glanced up at her as he wiped down the counter. “Right. Well, it looks like she was destined for the service whether she knew or not.”
Carol’s mouth suddenly stopped. She clamped her hand over her face and then froze, her gaze fixed. “You don’t suppose she knows do you? They must have told her…”
Philip shrugged. “Might explain why it took her so long to talk to us again.”
“Yes, but that started long ago. It had nothing to do with her disappearing in the first place.”
“Maybe not, but I think Dr. Jones’s theory about her feeling guilty about that incident is probably valid…”
“… in which case it was our fault she ran away. And it was because of our jobs.”
“Now now Carol, there’s no point in us torturing ourselves over it any more. What’s done is done. It’s all in the past.”
Carol had begun sobbing quietly to herself. She took another gulp of wine. “I’m a terrible mother. I have no business being a mother any more… she was right to disappear.”
Philip, who had heard this all a million times before, dried his hands off on the dish cloth and undid his own apron, leaving it on the side as he walked around to where his wife was sitting. He gently put his hand on her back and she turned into him, letting him hold her.
“How did it all go so wrong?” Carol sobbed, making his shirt tunic wet.
“It didn’t go wrong. Like I said, she’s turned out a real badass. What more could a parent want? A child who is confident and capable enough to do whatever she chooses.”
There was a snot-curdling snort from against his chest where his wife was trying to compose herself.
“One that doesn’t get into the same shit her parents got into!” she sobbed.
Philip patted her back as he spoke to her. “There, there. It’s okay. If it’s true and she is involved with the Federation, you can bet she’s in it to fight the good fight. She never was one to sit back and watch injustice happen.” He paused a moment before adding, “There may have been a certain inevitability around her career choice.”
“Well,” she huffed. “There are safer ways to make a difference in the world. Like that university job she has now.”
Philip continued to stroke her back as the sobbing died down. “Yes. I mean, what could possibly be dangerous about educating the next generation of leaders in dangerously positive social policies.”
He dryly raised his eyes to the ceiling, pretty certain the irony of his words would be lost on his wife.
As the crying ended, he peeled himself from her embrace, and poured some more wine into her glass. “I’m just going to change my shirt,” he said, padding off to the bedroom. “Vegetables will need turning down in a few, too,” he called out over his shoulder as he disappeared around a corner.
Carol pulled herself together and started closing up the holoscreens of Molly’s surveillance.
Maybe the university was the safest place for her, she thought, wondering if there was a way to leverage her into staying with the university and giving up the Federation.
If there had been anything that Carol was naturally good at in her rise up the ranks, it was making sure that she could find the ways to maneuver people into doing what she wanted them to do.
Her daughter would not be an exception.
Gaitune-67, Molly’s Conference Room
Pieter sat casually in Molly’s conference room, his feet up on the chair next to him, enjoying the peace and quiet. As soon as he became aware of Molly striding through the door he straightened up, whipped his feet off the chair and nearly fell off onto the floor in the process. He caught his balance just in time.
“Hi!” he greeted her, sitting up, like he was trying to cover for something he’d been doing wrong.
Molly smiled, plonked herself down, and then swung her feet up on the chair next to her, just as Pieter had been sitting. She grinned at him, and he chuckled, awkwardly ruffling his hair. “So, erm… we’ve had Bourne uploaded into the base matrix, after Oz gave him some ground rules.”
Molly frowned. “Ground rules?”
“Yeah,” Pieter confirmed, “like respecting privacy, not taking over weapons systems, not being inappropriate with the comms and whatnot. Oh yeah… and no killing organics, or inorganics.”
“I see.”
Pieter grinned at her in his nerdy way. “Yeah, I think Emma had that last bit added in when he started probing the Empress.”
“I’ll bet she did!” Molly agreed. She paused a moment. “Goodness. Is it safe?”
Pieter looked confused by the question. “How do you mean?”
“I mean, is it safe… for Bourne to be let loose in the system?”
“Well, I… er, I don’t know,” he confessed, a little off guard. “I assume so. I guess. ADAM was supervising the upload, and I don’t suppose he would have allowed it had he thought it wouldn’t be.”
“Okay,” Molly agreed, making a mental note to have Oz check in with ADAM about the whole thing.
Joel walked in. “Wanna know the latest?”
“Sure,” she answered, her voice qualifying the answer with an unspoken maybe?
“Oz has him watching files for cultural reference. Files like Ozzy Osbourne videos and music from the archives. He’s actually been binge watching TV shows for the last several hours since he uploaded himself.”
Molly frowned again. “Should we be worried how that might affect his development?”
Joel chuckled. “Words I never thought I’d hear Mommy Molly utter!” he chimed. “In my opinion, no. Though he’ll probably end up with a weird-ass accent if it’s anything like the shows you grew up on.”
“Well, there is that,” she agreed, raising one eyebrow playfully.
“What’s more,” Joel continued, pulling out the seat next to the one she had her feet on, “the General offered us the processing tech to allow him to upgrade and evolve his programming. He can even have a body if he wants.”
Pieter leaned forward. “That would be interesting,” he mused.
Molly nodded. “It would. And then he could be independent.” She mulled the option.
Joel looked off into the distance, thinking about the prospect. “I wonder what he would want to do… with a body. And walking around with humans and stuff.”
Molly sighed, slouching back in her chair. “I have no idea… I guess we can only wait and see.”
“Hmm,” Pieter said as he digested the idea. “Makes you wonder why they never offered that to Oz.”
Molly glanced down at her hands, with no intention of responding. Joel sensed something and pushed her. “Molly?” he pressed.
She looked up at them both. “He did. When I was in the pod doc that time. He chose to stay.”
Pieter’s jaw dropped open. “Wow. I mean… wow!” he bumbled.
Joel looked at her in astonishment.
“Yeah,” she said, bobbing her head gently looking back down at her hands.
“And Oz chose not to?” Joel pressed.
Molly took a deep breath, clearly biting back some emotion. “Yeah. He wanted to stay.”
“Close to you,” Joel said, finishing the thought she never could.
She bobbed her head again and then pulled up her holo. “Well, I suppose the next step is to float the idea with Oz and let them talk it through.”
Joel knew the subject was now closed, and that he was being dismissed. He pushed his chair out and got to his feet. “I’ll get right on it,” he confirmed. He glanced over at Pieter, who was equally shocked by the revelation, and then headed out of the door.
Storage cupboard, Skóli Uppstigs Academy, Spire, Estaria
Team Kurns found themselves back in the privacy of the Level Three storage room, with only their holo light to illuminate their conversation.
Giles arrived just a moment before and was fiddling with his belongings, trying to place them on a shelf where he could find them again in the blackness.
Eventually he turned around to address the group, a small flashlight his only illumination. “Okay, folks,” he whispered into the darkness. There was a distinct feel of the theater between the darkness and the lit-up professor.
“Here’s what we know,” he said. “Our classroom was smoke-bombed by three little twerps with questionable ideologies. They were recruited to disrupt things at the university by Arnold Sloth. What I want to know is why? How he found them and what their end game is.”
He glanced around the half light and shadows to see the figures taking notes or listening attentively.
“This is where we want the investigation to go and our first step to finding all this out is what?”
He waited expectantly for a response.
“Finding out everything about Arnold Sloth.” It was Cleavon’s voice.
“Correct!” Giles confirmed. “So how did we get on?”
Cleavon stood up from the stack of boxes he’d been perched on. “Arnold Sloth. Forty-three. Never mated. Graduated from Ogg University top of his class. Set up shop on his own as a fixer, straight out of college, but then closed it down five years later when he went off grid.”
“Do we know why?” Giles asked into the darkness.
Cleavon flicked to another holoscreen. “There was a case that he was a material witness in. The court documents have been sealed, though…”
Giles quickly said, “Get hold of them.”
“But it’s on Ogg,” Cleavon protested.
Giles smiled, the shadows cast from the angle of the holo lights making his face look demonic. “Would that be a problem for a hacking genius?” he asked.
Cleavon looked down at his holo. “No sir. I… I’ll get right on it.”
“Okay, what else do we have?”
It was Soraya’s turn. “I tracked his communications. Managed to get into one of his holos. He has a few burners I think. For the most part, he is using some device that seems to re-route his call signals through various places and servers, but I’ve been able to untangle about 18 percent of his communications since we got his name. He’s been in touch with this institution twice.”
Soraya pulled up a holoscreen with an image of a company. Some kind of family office.
Giles started reading off the site: “Northern Clan of Cambodian.”
He cast his gaze around at the others. “Okay, what do we know about this office?”
Raza injected herself into the show and tell. “Only that they want to maintain the status quo of the Central Systems. In terms of education they make big donations to institutions who have more traditional values. They also have holdings in certain medical facilities, research, pharmaceuticals, not to mention the regulatory bodies of the financial sector.”
Giles stroked his chin as he listened. “Well, this is a red flag if ever there was one. If we can find out why they want to disrupt the university we get closer to finding out what their end game is. And therefore…?”
Soraya answered, needlessly raising her hand excitedly. “What we need to do to protect ourselves or neutralize the threat.”
Giles snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “Exactly. You’re getting it.”
Elroy pipped up from the darkness a little further back. “So… what’s our next move?” he asked.
Rhodez saw his opportunity to demonstrate initiative. “I’ll run down the numbers. If I can get into their holo system, we can find out who else is involved and maybe even narrow this down to an individual in the organization.”
“Great,” Giles replied. “Soraya, you stay on the Sloth holo. Do what you can. It’s all useful data.” He looked out at the outline of the group against the darkness. “And above all else — what’s our rule Number One?”
“No one talks about fight club?” That was Ake, who hadn’t spoken all session.
There were a few smiles and looks of recognition in the room. Clearly some of them had done their research.
Giles smiled. “And rule Number Two?”
“Refer back to rule Number One,” Dhashana piped up enthusiastically from the shadows.
Giles wagged his finger in the direction of her voice in acknowledgment. “Yeah, but this is more important than double scoring rule one. Rule two is - for the love of all that is holy — Don’t. Get. Caught.”
His face was serious as he looked at each of the faces in the storage cupboard - or at least where he thought they were from the dim reflections of holo light. “Not least,” he added, “because it will be my pretty head on the chopping block with the Mollster if anything were to escalate. Capisce?”
There were mutters of comprehension and agreement
“Okay. Great. Class dismissed,” he said as he turned off his flashlight.
Clandestine Operations HQ, Spire
“Ma’am?”
“Yes, Roberts?” Carol Bates strode over to look over her associates shoulder. He had three screens laid out. One large one in the center, and one to each side of him. He pointed to the holoscreen to his left.
“That is the scorecard for our typical efforts,” he told her and she nodded. Effectively, seventy percent effective, twenty percent neutralized and ten percent either blocked or worse, blocked and an effort to trace where it started.
He punched a couple of keys and the screen changed. “This is our effort for this project.”
He didn’t need to point anything out to Carol. Her eyes opened wide when she saw nothing her team had done so far had been effective, twenty percent were neutralized and eighty percent of the attacks had either counter-attacks or all out traces that meant a full-on defense with a massive amount of counter-hacking was going on.
They had kicked over a leergong’s nest.
Shit! Carol stormed towards her office. This was the last thing she needed. She had promised Philip that Molly would never find out.
And now she was about to find out.
And if that weren’t bad enough, she couldn’t decide which was going to be worse, Molly finding out it was her own mother prying into her business, or that she would be thinking she was under attack.
“Ma’am?” Another well-manicured Estarian strode up to her.
“Yes, Wigglesworth?”
“Ma’am, Dr. Bates is here to see you.”
“Fuuuuck,” she muttered under her breath. “Okay, let him through,” she sighed.
“Ma’am, he doesn’t have proper clearance anymore,” he replied.
Carol’s eyes narrowed in surprise. “Yes yes, I’m well aware of that. But do you know who he is?”
Wigglesworth stood a bit straighter, “Yes Ma’am. Only one of the best operatives this office has ever seen.”
“One of? Don’t let him hear you saying that.” Carol answered, a smile on her face, a shake of her head imagining the result of that conversation.
He bowed. “Yes ma’am. I’ll go fetch him now.”
“Thank you, Wigglesworth.”
He disappeared only to return several minutes later with her husband.
“Hello, dear,” Dr. Bates said from the doorway. He nodded to Wigglesworth, who bowed slightly and took his leave.
He glanced over at what was in Carol’s hand, then turned and closed the door. “Thought you’d be needing me right about now,” he said, a little smugness in his voice.
Carol tapped the end of the cigarette on the old fashioned cigarette case. She rummaged in her desk drawer for her lighter and lit up.
Philip sat down in her visitor’s chair. “That bad?” he asked.
She nodded, taking another long drag of the cigarette. She held the smoke in her lungs for several seconds before slowly exhaling into the air ahead of her, watching the smoke disappear into the air conditioning extraction fans. “She’s going to find out,” she said bluntly.
Philip clasped his hands. He nodded his head gently, biding his time until his opinion was asked for.
“We’ve tripped some kind of protocol when we were looking into her Federation links,” Carol added after a moment.
Philip frowned. “So you may have tipped off the Federation. Not Molly.”
“No - if it were a Federation trip wire we wouldn’t have tripped it. We know their signature moves. We would have spotted it,” she said.
Philip remained quiet.
“Anyway, she’s going to find out, or right now she’s running a code red, panicking for no reason.”
Philip had a twinkle in his eye. “I wouldn’t say for no reason.”
Carol looked confused.
“Well, it is Carol Bates who is hunting her down… only the best in the business.” He winked at her.
Carol wasn’t amused. She took another drag of her cigarette, the frustration showing as a tightness around her mouth as she inhaled.
Philip filled the silence this time. “So what’s your play?” he asked.
Her gaze became fixed on a point on the floor of her windowless office. “I don’t know. Yet. Clearly we need another way in.”
Philip smiled. She said ‘we’. He knew immediately what that meant. In that moment he was glad he had taken the gamble and went downtown to drop in on his wife. She was nothing if not predictable.
At least to him.
“So you need intel about the Federation,” he clarified slowly. “So you need someone who can give you that intel.”
His days as an operative were shining through. Operatives developed assets. Assets were people in this business. And people can tell you anything you needed to know.
He watched her carefully, waiting for her to reveal a tell. “But why would they give you anything?” he probed.
She sighed and pulled her gaze from the floor to look at him. “Because they are meant to be back-door allies?” she posited. “Because it’s my daughter.” Her voice trembled. This had rattled her. He could tell.
He tried another tact. “Have they even admitted that Royale works for them?”
“Nope,” she confirmed. “Not ever in the thirty years since we first encountered him.”
“And yet you’re considering approaching him now.”
“Yes,” she said.
“And what makes you think that he’ll admit anything to you?”
“Because I have evidence of him and their secret ops…”
Philip cut in. “Which he knows you can never use to out him.”
Carol was determined. “And a secret weapon,” she added firmly.
“Oh yeah? What’s that?” he asked, almost impressed.
“Not what… Who,” she corrected him.
Philip’s eyes were bright as he leaned forward in his chair. “Are you going to let me in on it then?”
“No way,” she smiled, regaining her chutzpah. “Not this time. This is need-to-know only, hubby dearest.”
Philip knew there was no point in pressing further. They’d all been taught to withstand all kinds of torture and duress. He uncrossed his legs and got to his feet, zipping up the upper part of his atmosjacket.
“Well then,” he said turning towards the door. “I suppose I’ll see you tonight.”
Carol nodded and waved to him. “Yes dear. But thank you for stopping by. It was good to have someone to talk to.”
Dr. Bates smiled to her. “Any time, my love.” And with that he disappeared out of her office with the same air and grace as he always carried himself around those offices. He was legend amongst the analysts. They all knew that. And he knew it too.
Carol sighed, cigarette still in hand, and started searching her holo for a certain encrypted file she needed for her next move.
Chapter 15
Gaitune-67, Kitchen
Molly strode into the kitchen, grabbed a mug and walked to the dispenser for a bit of hot water. She looked over at Paige, who was working at the kitchen table.
“Where’s Maya?”
Paige looked up, and saw that Molly’s face was a little more blank than usual. “Working on something with Pieter I think. You okay?”
Molly nodded, “Yeah, all good. You?”
Still trying to see if she could get any tells from her boss, Paige said, “Yeah. Just plugging on.”
Molly… we have a problem.
What? What is it?
It seems that someone is still probing, looking for you.
Well it can’t be Bourne, he knows where I am. It must be Lugdon and his team of preppy war hungry imbeciles.
No it’s not Bourne. Or the research facility.
Well who then?
We… don’t know.
Just then, Pieter and Maya came crashing into the kitchen, their faces tense.
“Oz just told me,” Molly explained before they could blurt out what was happening.
She placed her cup down on the table. “What we need to make sure first and foremost is can we shut down their attacks?”
Pieter tilted his head. “Well… they’re not really attacks,” he confessed. “If anything, it’s more that they’re pinging our defenses and trying to test where our vulnerabilities are. They’re looking for intel and to build up a map of our assets. They’re not attacking yet.”
Maya pulled a chair out and plonked herself down at the table. “If anything,” she admitted, “it would be easier to catch them if they were mounting a full on attack. But as it is it’s like trying to catch a ghost.”
Molly leaned against the counter. “Okay, what are our options?” she asked.
“Well,” Pieter began, thinking on his feet. “I think we can probably go back through some data and cross reference any spiders or pings which have hit us with the one that just tripped our protocol. At least then we’ll know that this isn’t just an accidental hit, and with a bit of luck we might be able to build up a picture of what they are targeting.”
Molly nodded her head once. “Okay. Do it.”
She turned to Maya and raised an eyebrow. “I suppose I could reach out to Lugdon and ask him.” Maya answered.
Paige chuckled. “I know, why don’t you call him and ask him out on a date! See if you can pump him for information?”
Maya chuckled, but then realised that Molly was serious. She cleared her throat and returned to the task in hand. “No… erm… seriously, what I was thinking was getting into his computer and seeing if it might have been his team. Once through the firewall, I could poke around and be in and out without him feeling a thing.”
Paige sniggered.
Molly glanced at her and then moved on. “Do it,” she confirmed to Maya.
“Oz?” She called out to the all hearing AI.
“Yup?” He responded on the intercom.
“Any suggestions?”
“Yes, I’ll help them both with the pieces of their suggestions they can’t do without me. I’m sure one of those avenues will show up something.”
“Okay, great. Make it so,” Molly said, smiling encouragement at her team of nerds. She picked up her hot water and strode out of the door.
She hadn’t gone three paces before she heard Maya giggling and chastising Paige for being such a kid in front of the boss.
Molly took a moment and smiled to herself. There was no doubt about it. She was their boss now. And acting like it was good for the team, even if she felt she was missing out on some of the social aspects of being one of the crew.
She sighed and headed back to her conference room knowing one more problem was on her plate, but also being handled by the best team she could ever hope for.
Skóli Uppstigs Academy, Spire, Estaria
The Sark was high in the sky as Professor Giles Kurns strode down the corridor to his first lecture of the day. It had been a good morning: his mocha was just right, he’d had an easy trip into his office, and all was right with the world.
Then he saw Molly Bates, action heroine extraordinaire, most popular lecturer and founder of the university.
Also known as “Boss”.
“Morning!” he called brightly, determined not to let his good mood be spoiled by feelings of inadequacy.
“Morning!” Molly called back, flashing her million-credit smile as she marched from the other end of the corridor towards her classroom, which adjoined his.
She hovered by the door before she went in. Hand on handle, she turned to him as he approached. “All okay since I was away?”
“You were away?” Giles asked, quickly scanning his memory in case there was something he needed since she was right there.
“Yeah. You were going to cover my morning lecture?” she asked.
Dammit. Rumbled. Giles thought.
“Oh right. Yes,” he responded. Had he not had his arms full of books he would have been grabbing for his glasses right now.
Molly narrowed one eye at him. “Giles?” she said in a low voice so that passing students couldn’t hear her. “You didn’t miss it did you?”
Giles straightened up, taking a deep breath to own it. “Yes. Yes I did. But I have a good reason.”
“The smoke bomb incident?” she asked.
“Yes.” He replied.
She pursed her lips. “Hmm, I heard about that from Oz.”
Giles waited for her next words.
“Great work,” she said, flashing that smile again.
Giles felt his heart miss a beat… and then his chest swell. “Thank you!” he uttered, his voice catching in his excitement.
“Anything else I should know?” she asked almost too casually.
Giles hesitated, wondering if now was really the best time to be fessing up to using student labor to hunt down the threat to the university, which she also didn’t know about. “Erm. No. Nothing yet. But… let’s catch up over the weekend or something. Have a chat?”
Molly smiled, taking her hand from the door handle to allow a straggler into the class ahead of her. “Okay. Sounds good.”
She moved to catch the door before it swung closed and stepped inside.
“Great!” Giles said as cheerfully as he could. “I’ll see you later. Got to be in class.” He pointed at his classroom door which had been opened by one of the students.
Molly just smiled and let the door shut, disappearing behind the door.
Giles, still reeling from the emotional roller coaster that was the last ten seconds, gathered his thoughts and focused down to the task at hand. He took a deep breath and stepped over the threshold ready to do battle to convince his class that even though he wasn’t hipster Estarian-cool, he was still worth paying attention to.
No sooner was he in front of the class than an applause erupted.
Oh good lord! he exclaimed, placing his teaching materials down on the front bench and looking around the classroom. First, he noticed the windows had been covered, awaiting repair. As he settled into the overwhelming feeling of his class applauding him, he realized why.
Soraya stood up. “Professor Kurns, on behalf of the class I would like to say thank you for keeping us safe from the smoke bombers.” She smiled brightly, and if Giles didn’t know any better he suspected she was perhaps even flirting.
“And for pursuing them after the fact, too.” She winked as another applause rang through the class. Of course, she was publicly referring to giving chase to the bombers.
But privately, she was referring to the little secret society they had going on.
Giles, his hands now free, removed his glasses and started cleaning them again. “Thank you Soraya,” he said graciously, and then nodded regally to the class.
“Thank you, everyone. Now let’s turn to page 238 in your strategy textbooks and pick up on the Cantopole Wars case study again…”
* * *
Molly stepped into her classroom. The hubbub quickly died down as students scrambled to their desks and fixed their attention on Molly.
Molly unzipped her atmosjacket and stepped up to the front bench, pulling up a holoscreen of her teaching notes. Out of her peripheral vision she clocked a smartly dressed gentleman, too old to be one of her students, sitting patiently in the back of the class.
Who’s the guy at the back?
Rick Shadrows is his name. It’s some regulatory body representative that Garett Atkins suggested we humor. You ok’d it last week.
You mean in that string of things you asked me about during my workout?
You said you could multitask.
I did. And I can. I remember now.
Good. So I don’t need to call security on his ass.
No. In fact, it will give me a good opportunity to see if I can get a read on him.
Ahh, with your hoodoo voodoo energy reading thing.
Exactly. And don’t call it that. When you say hoodoo I think of Paige’s granny growing herbs in her back yard.
Roger that.
She started her lecture. “Okay, we’re onto the second phase of the Estarian unification convention. Who can tell me what the primary concerns were when the parties sat down to negotiate?”
Two hands went up. One was Donovan, her mousey-haired medical monitor.
The other was the gentleman at the back of the room.
Molly smiled at him as she moved out from behind the front bench and stepped off the platform to be closer to her students. “Class, we have a guest joining us today. Please say hello to Mr. Rick Shadrows.”
The class turned their attention on the man and said their hellos.
Mr. Shadrows nodded and smiled politely, acknowledging the sentiment.
“Mr. Shadrows is here to observe to make sure that we’re following regulations. I’m sure he’ll probably want to ask you some questions…” She looked at him as if to give him permission. “So please cooperate and treat him with the same respect you’d treat any faculty member.”
There were grunts and murmurs of acknowledgment.
“So, Mr. Shadrows. You had your hand up to answer the question,” she ventured.
Shadrows nodded. “Yes. I believe you’re referring to the circumstances that led up to the Huntington Convention, which created the unification of the two major powers on Estaria. In essence, the major considerations were how much trade each party could bring to the table and how much aid each would supply to its relative populations in terms of reparations.”
Molly nodded. “Anything else?”
“Well, there were a few rumors that there were some back door dealings between a couple of their major corporations at the time, but those were wholly unsubstantiated and probably started by rebels within the two groups to try and undermine the terms that were eventually reached.”
Molly kept her expression friendly but blank, noticing certain students in the class recognizing the paradigm the intruder was answering with. “And Mr. Shadrows, were these claims ever upheld down the line?”
“Actually yes, but by that time the corporations in question had been dissolved and…”
She wasn’t paying attention to the rest of his argument. She’d heard it several times before over the years. She had already started moving back to her desk on the raised platform. “Right,” she agreed as she pulled up a holoscreen and pushed it against the wall for the whole class to see.
“Here are the names of the executives associated with those two corporations… the ones charged and found guilty of policy manipulation, extortion and bribery, I believe the exact charges were.”
She flicked the screen and a second set of data was displayed next to the first.
“And here are the names of two new companies which then incorporated within eighteen months following,” she told the class as they took in the new data on the screen.
There were murmurs in the class.
“So what can we conclude from this data?” she asked.
Most of the hands in the class went up.
Molly nodded at one of the quieter students who rarely raised his hand. “Yes, Nathan?”
Nathan cleared his throat and quietly explained the case as he saw it, including the fact that it looked like the companies just renamed themselves to get out of trouble.
Molly nodded. “That’s certainly one theory,” she agreed, allowing space for other interpretations of the data.
She looked to the back row of the class, “Anything to add to that assessment, Mr. Shadrows?”
“Ah well...” The man looked embarrassed. “Yes, I can see that is a potentially valid point now.”
There was a snigger from the front of the class that Molly silenced with the glare. She continued the lesson.
Eventually, part-way through a discourse on the third phase of the development, the bell rang, releasing both Molly, the observer, and the class from the inconvenient contentions of education.
The class filtered out, realizing that after-class stories of rogue missions and near-death assignments were probably out of the question while Mr. Shadrows was around.
The mysterious gentleman waited for the last of them to filter out, and cautiously approached the front of the class and nodded. “I have to say, Ms. Bates, I was expecting something quite different when I came here.”
She watched him approach the last few steps. “Oh. Yes?”
He nodded his head slowly a few times. “Yes. I thought things would be a little less… rigorous,” he admitted.
“Well, I can understand that concern, Mr. Shadrows. But if we’re going to shape change, then we have to do it from a solid foundation of facts and careful, considered evaluation, no?” she left her question hanging.
His earlier nods started to become more pronounced. “Yes, yes, I agree.” The man’s eyes lit up. He stuck his hand out to shake with Molly. She reached out and took it. “I’m going to reflect nothing but good things in my report.”
Molly could sense that he was genuine, despite his original feelings when she had first stepped into the room. Her grindle senses had picked up that he was indeed there to start the process of shutting them down, but now, shaking his hand and seeing his enthusiasm for their work, she didn’t pick up a trace of it at all.
“I’m very happy to hear that Mr. Shadrows.”
“Please, call me Rick!” He chirped.
She carefully didn’t raise an eyebrow. “Ok, Rick.” She repeated.
“Well,” he said moving towards the door. “I’ll be in touch if I need anything else. But thank you very much for your time.”
Molly smiled, waving to him as he walked away. “Excellent. Yes, please do. Thank you Rick!”
And with that he disappeared out of the door and down the corridor.
What was that?
What was what?
You know what.
I don’t.
Well, he came in with one set of beliefs and left with another. Don’t think I didn’t hear you logging in your mind what you were picking up about his state emotionally.
You noticed how easily he changed his mind?
Yes.
And you know that most people would point to the information and say that that was what changed his mind, right?
Yes. And they would be wrong. There have been countless studies that have shown that information had very little effect on someone’s opinion. Most people will simply reject it, diminish it or disregard it in order to maintain their current paradigm.
This is also true.
So something else changed his mind.
You’re back to that then.
I think it’s worth looking into. Apart from anything, if this creates long term changes in peoples’ beliefs then imagine the impact that could have on our missions? Heck on the Federation.
Yes, and imagine the ethical issues with that too. It wouldn’t be any different from hacking someone’s code, methinks.
Hmm. There is that.
So, how are we getting on with finding out who has been probing us?
I’m still working on it.
Should I be worried?
No. Why?
Because whoever these people are who are trying to find out about us have so far evaded you. You’re the most powerful AI this system has seen.
Molly paused, weighing her next words to Oz.
I don’t suppose we need to bring in ADAM to help do we?
No. I’ve got this. I’m just having difficulty, what with having to help Bourne and the missions and…
Ah. Single parenthood catching up to you eh?
Well, I didn’t think I was on my own in this…
You’re not. Molly chuckled. I just liked the expression. It seems to map to the challenge you’re having.
What challenge?
You know — balancing your career and child rearing.
Oz went quiet.
Oz?
Yes?
You okay?
Yes, sorry. I was, erm… just contemplating the dilemma. I’m wondering if there is a way of increasing my capacity…
Well, let me know if I can help.
I will.
And if you need ADAM on this, then let’s be smart about it. It’s perfectly okay to ask for help.
Hmm. Okay.
Molly could sense his pride was stopping him, but figured she should let him run a little longer to see if he came to the conclusion himself. She wanted him to make the decision. Not for her to dictate it to him.
She picked up her jacket and headed out of the classroom.
Outside University, carport
The Sark was setting as Rick made his way across the half-built carport of the new university. The campus grounds were still in disarray in places, but it seems that a big injection of cash had been made to smarten certain areas up.
The college administrator, Garett Atkins, had given him a tour earlier that day and pointed out where the various tech labs and discussion theaters were going to be developed as soon as they had the head count to justify it.
“Hi, yes, I’m here,” he said to his holo connection.
Rick had been on hold and the holocall connected just as he was arriving at his car and began a battle with getting in with his jacket and case.
“Yes sir. It went very well… and honestly I know we were looking for signs of impropriety, but I couldn’t find anything observable.”
He listened.
“Yes. Yes. I understand that. But we can’t find something that isn’t there.”
An air of frustration descended on his good mood.
Shadrows was silent as he listened to the voice on the other end of the line. He got into his car and closed the door, hoping that the noise canceling algorithm would filter out the bang.
“Yes, I’ll do that, of course sir, but I don’t think this warrants further investigation. Everything seems to be in order. Yes. Thank you sir. I will.”
And with that the call was disconnected.
Rick sat in the quiet of his car, contemplating what he’d just seen over the course of the day. He had been convinced that this outfit was spelling social trouble and that it would cause a problem in the future. But since Molly’s class, and seeing how she was instructing the students to think for themselves and not take hearsay at face value… there was something valuable there.
And try as he might, he couldn’t seem to recapture the feelings he had felt earlier that day about the whole thing.
He started the car and buckled his harness.
Well, if his boss wanted his report, he’d just have to accept it as he saw it, he concluded, pulling out of the car port and heading off for the stratohighway.
But right now, he needed a beer.
Chapter 16
Undisclosed bar, Spire
Carol Bates looked up from her holo as the waiter passed by her table on the way to the next. She glanced at the ice in her drink and then at the time on her holoscreen.
Her asset was late.
She glimpsed over at the man at the next table. He’d come in a few seconds after she had, so naturally he was suspect.
She turned her attention back to the screening reports from her team from the data they had captured before she shut the operation down. She hoped there might be a clue in there. Something to give her insight into what her daughter was doing with Sean Royale.
So far she’d turned up nothing.
Just then a pretty young Estarian female came in through the front door. She was all made up, but dressed casually. She glanced around, her eyes still adjusting to the dim light of the bar.
A second later she spotted Carol and headed straight over.
Carol stood up and signaled to the seat on the other side of the booth. “Glad you could make it, Karina,” Carol said, with the air of forced pleasantries.
Karina looked at her sternly. “You didn’t give me much choice. Seems I’m at your beck and call these days.”
Carol pursed her lips together and lowered her eyes. Her demeanor was no-nonsense, but she didn’t want to come across as domineering or harsh. “I understand that might be how you feel,” she said quietly.
The waiter came over and Karina ordered before returning to the conversation. “So… why am I here?” she asked, crossing her legs and sitting back in the booth.
“I need you for a job,” Carol said flatly.
Karina’s interest was piqued. “What kind of job? Engage and neutralize? Engage and interrogate?”
“Engage and marry,” Carol answered.
Karina’s mouth dropped open. “You’re not serious?”
“I am.”
“Who’s the target.”
“We’ll come to that.”
“What’s the purpose?”
“Information, mostly. But then once you’re in we might need to leverage your position, so you’ll want to go in with a long-term plan.”
“How long-term.”
“Maybe a few years.”
Karina started choking, coughing on her surprise.
“Oh, come on,” Carol remarked. “It’s not like you haven’t done anything like this before.”
“Well, I’ve never actually gone through with the marriage part. At least not for work.”
Carol sipped her limeade. “Well, first time for everything. It will look great on your resume.”
Karina’s eyes tensed up as she processed what she was going to have to do. Just then her drink arrived. No sooner had the server set it on the table she picked it up and downed it.
“Another,” she said, signaling to the server, who had only seconds before moved away from the table.
Carol continued. “You will of course be compensated. Usual rate for a long term gig.”
Karina nodded, still stunned. “And the target?” she asked.
Carol sat back in her chair. “Yes. That’s something else you’ll have to acclimatize to.”
“Why, who is it?” She asked, her face suddenly a little more animated. “You’ve not landed me some prince from one of the provinces have you? Is that why I got it? Because of the human thing?”
Carol raised one eyebrow, pretty much in the same way her daughter would when casting doubt on a statement.
“You know,” Karina said, her eyes dancing now as she shrugged her shoulders from side to side. “All the Estarian princes like humans. That’s why they keep marrying them.”
Carol felt her inward face role her eyes. Her poker face remained unchanged. “No Karina. It’s not an Estarian prince… although, some people have called him a prince among men… over the years.”
Karina’s eyes narrowed as she tried to piece together the clues she was being given.
“It’s Sean Royale,” Carol finally admitted.
“My EX?” She hissed.
“Yes. Your ex.” Carol replied calmly.
“And you thought this would be a good idea because?”
Just then Karina’s second drink arrived, reminding her to keep her voice down. She visibly shrank and waited for the server to move away again.
Once he was out of earshot, she got back to their conversation. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“I can assure you I’m not.”
Karina’s eyes roamed the bar before she asked, “And you can’t send anyone else?”
Carol shook her head, “No. We need the history. The relationship.”
“And you think that after everything that’s happened in the past, I’ll still be able to play him?” Karina asked.
“Yes,” Carol answered.
Karina slumped back in the booth again, her face twisted like a teenager in discourse with a parent.
“You’re the only one who can do this,” Carol added, again trying to make it look like she wasn’t strong-arming her.
But then, they both knew that Karina had no choice, and any illusion that she might have was merely a formality to make proceedings feel civilized.
Karina downed her drink and placed the empty glass back on the table in front of her. “Okay. When do I make my play?”
“I’ll send you the details, but basically this is how it’s going to play out…” Carol began.
The two women occupied the booth for another twenty minutes, ordering another round of drinks. Carol left a reasonable tip when she paid the bill and quietly left the bar a good ten minutes after Karina departed. With Karina now in play, her plan to find out what her daughter was really up to would have a longer shelf life than the digitally driven assignments.
Gaitune-67, Molly’s Conference Room
“Hey.”
Sean popped his head in to the conference room, tapping his knuckle against the door.
“I heard about what happened today,” he told her.
Molly didn’t turn around or look up. “With what?” she asked, distracted.
Sean stepped into the room and stood in front of her, just behind her line of vision on her holo. “With the shady guy coming into your class,” he qualified. “Oz was monitoring his communications after he came out. Seems he had a change of heart about coming after you.”
“I didn’t know he was coming after me,” she lied.
“He was. And now he’s not.” Sean remained motionless.
“Well, that’s good then,” she replied.
“It can be,” he agreed skeptically. “But I think this is a new skill you’ve developed.”
Molly looked up from her holoscreen, giving Sean her full attention. She continued to play dumb. “You mean, persuading douchebags not to give me a hard time? Or you mean my charisma and charm?”
“Ha!” Sean snorted. “The charisma and charm you can keep. But I think there is a realm walking thing going on too. I spoke to Arlene a—”
“You spoke to Arlene without talking to me first?”
“Yes. I did. I had to be sure I wasn’t crazy. She thinks that it might be another skill you’ve acquired since you’ve been going through those… changes.”
Molly frowned, concentrating on the new information. “You mean the ascension process?”
“Right. Changes.”
Molly raised one eyebrow at him skeptically. “I’m assuming there is a point to this conversation.”
“There is,” he agreed, speaking more swiftly now. “If you’re able to affect peoples’ decisions, then you’re a risk to the Federation. Until we figure out what this is, and how you can control it, we can’t have you anywhere near the General… or anyone else in command.”
Molly paused for a moment. “In case I change their minds?” she asked slowly.
“Yes. Exactly.” He pulled out a seat and sat down a few seats over from her.
“Shit,” she muttered under her breath.
“So,” Sean continued, “that means no more trips up to the ArchAngel. And no more missions until Arlene has had a chance to investigate further.”
Molly’s frown only deepened. “You mean you’re grounding me?”
“Yes. For your own good… as well as everyone else’s.”
“I’m not sure you have that authority.”
“I will when I talk to the General about this”, he said firmly. “And just one more thing…”
Sean paused, as if searching for the words. “Since you can almost push your will onto anyone… I’d be careful around even your team… in case you accidentally push them into doing something they don’t want.”
Molly regarded Sean carefully as she eased back in her chair, allowing one leg to slip out from underneath her and onto the floor. “So, if I’m able to push my will… what’s to stop me from changing your mind right now?”
Sean’s face dropped and the color drained from his face. “Nothing,” he said quickly, looking flustered.
Suddenly he was on his feet again.
She looked at him bewildered.
“I have to go,” he told her, then disappeared out of the door.
She listened as his footsteps hurried away down the corridor.
Was that weird, or was that just me?
I think that was weird. Want me to find out what that was all about.
Yeah… if you can. Well, hang on. How would you?
I’d ask him.
No no nooooo! Leave it. I don’t want anymore awkward conversations. It was likely nothing. Let it go.
Ok, you’re the boss, Boss. Wow - did I just agree to that because that was your will?
Shut up, Oz.
Shutting up.
Ooops. Look. Maybe you did it again…
Molly rolled her eyes and settled back into her work. Things were getting weird around here, and if there were more effects from her rebirth, then she’d just have to deal with them.
Later.
Outside Molly’s conference room
Sean stepped out of the conference room and headed back into the main safe house.
He needed to talk to the General.
Stat.
Just then, his holo blipped. He looked down. It was a message from an unknown designation.
He poked at the display and the message came up as a video. He headed down the corridor waiting for it to load. He poked a holo function making sure the audio was connected to his implant.
As the first frame appeared he glanced down at it and his eyes nearly popped out of his head.
Then he ran smack into the corridor double doors. “Fuck!” He recoiled aware of the thwack across his head and knee but completely distracted by the video.
“Hi, baby!” It was Karina’s voice. The voice he thought he’d never hear again. The lilting voice of a damsel in distress which got him tied up in all kinds of trouble back in his younger days. And the one that came to represent nothing but pain and despair.
His thoughts froze.
“I know we agreed we wouldn’t talk again, but this is serious. I don’t have anyone else I can call and I really need your help. I don’t think I have long. They’re going to find me. Hell, I just hope they can’t trace this message…”
Her voice trailed off as her eyes flicked to something off camera.
Sean squinted at the video render, trying to see where she might be and what was going on. He clocked the backdrop. She was in a room, probably on a ship, judging by the background and the life support plumbing and gubbins in the ceiling.
“Please, call me back. I know we left things badly… but… you’re my last hope.” She smiled a weak, half smile. Her lip wobbled.
And then the image was gone.
The message ended.
Sean’s heart beat hard. He felt a lump in his throat and a kind of terror that sent adrenaline through his whole artificially enhanced system. For a second he couldn’t think of where he was going or what he was doing.
And he needed to think.
He turned around and headed back down the corridor to his quarters. If Karina was calling him on this number it meant that she was in danger.
Life and death kind of danger.
After all, that was their agreement.
That was how they were both going to exist in the same galaxy… making sure their paths never crossed again.
Unless the unthinkable had happened.
And by the sounds of her message, it had.
Chapter 17
Giles’s office, Level 3, Main Building, Skóli Uppstigs Academy
Hans Duo stood just inside the door to Giles’s office.
He wore a beat-up atmosuit that had the odd tear in it around the seals. His boots were scuffed and had smudges of oil and dirt, the kind one only picks up by being around empty warehouses and abandoned buildings these days, in these parts. Despite, that he had managed to find a clean undershirt and comb his hair, which still lay in a haphazard fashion framing his face.
“Ah, here it is,” Giles said, pointing at a screen on his desk holo. He turned a second holo frame towards Hans and pushed it forward. The boy ventured further into the office squinting to see the holoscreen. He took hold of the frame and expanded it out to read, his eyes darting quickly from side to side.
“Pop your holo number in there,” Giles instructed, wagging his finger in a downward motion indicated that Hans should scroll down.
The boy did as he was told. He shook his head in amazement, realizing that throwing a smoke bomb through the classroom window might actually result in him receiving the formal education he had previously been denied. The concept was practically mind-boggling to him.
Giles had turned his attention to transmitting the files once he had the address. He glanced up briefly as he worked. “And did you tell the police everything when you went back?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good,” he grunted, returning his eyes to his holo. “Honesty is always the best policy.”
“With respect, sir,” Hans corrected, “that’s not why you had me do it.”
“Oh?” Giles leaned idly back in his desk chair, regarding the boy skeptically.
“You had me tell the detective who hired me so that he could trace him back to his boss and put pressure on them while you took a run at them through some other angle, increasing the stakes for them so they’ll eventually slip up.” Hans’s eyes glimmered with the cockiness of youth as he hit return on the holoscreen and passed it back to the professor.
Giles finalized the file transfer to the boy’s holo and rocked back in his chair again. “Very good,” he drawled slowly, his tone mildly impressed.
Hans grinned cheekily. “Your students aren’t the only ones who study the ways of the Sanguine Squadron.” Hans tried to keep his tone balanced and face straight. He wasn’t fooling Giles though. Giles could see he was enjoying his moment as a smart-ass.
Giles raised his chin slightly as he regarded his new student. “I’m surprised you can find enough intel on them. The Squadron, that is,” he remarked, subtly fishing.
“Oh, you’d be surprised,” Hans said, excitedly walking right into Giles’s set up. “There are a number of blogs which publish some of the stories your classes are told…”
Bingo.
Giles sat up, his face darkening. “By our own students?”
“Yes, sir.”
Giles rubbed his chin slowly as he regarded his source. “Interesting,” he mumbled, making a mental note to raise it with Molly.
The conversation lulled for a moment before Giles snapped his attention back to Hans. “Well, you have the files for the first semester now. I’ve unlocked the notes for the first five lectures. Work through them, and then complete the written assignments and send it over to me. Once I’ve had a look we’ll arrange to meet again.”
“Just like that,” Hans grinned, a hint of a question in his voice.
Giles nodded his head once. “Just like that.”
“Well, excellent. Thank you very much, sir. I’ll go home and start working on it right now.” He turned to go.
Giles had the impulse to ask where home was, but thought better of it. Didn’t want to embarrass the boy. Or find out something he would regret knowing later. “Very good,” he said, returning his gaze to his holo.
Hans started shuffling out of his office.
“Oh, and Hans?” Giles called after him.
“Yes, sir?”
“Don’t make me regret this.”
Hans nodded, “I promise you won’t, sir. You can count on me.”
“Yes,” Giles agreed with more than a dose of skepticism. “I’m sure,” he said, watching the boy wander out of his office.
Gaitune-67, Molly’s Conference Room
Molly had just got up to her conference room from a quick few minutes of talking with Brock and Crash, who were back from vacation, when Giles stepped in and updated her regarding Hans.
She stared at him a moment, “So you’ve just decided to tutor him?” she asked.
Giles couldn’t tell if Molly was mad at his rash decision or amused at his sentimentality.
“Well,” Giles explained, “I made the offer to all three of them, but only Mr. Duo took me up on the offer.”
Molly’s expression relaxed and a definite smile spread across her lips. “Well I’ll be,” she breathed. “I never pegged you as someone who would take a charge under your wing…”
Giles took his glasses off and pinched his eyes. “I keep surprising even myself,” he confessed.
“Quite,” she agreed, raising one eyebrow. “So what did they tell you?”
Realizing this was going to be longer than a two second confession, Giles sat down on the opposite side of the conference table. Not so much so he was out of reach of a slap in case this went wrong, but more so he could watch Molly’s reactions, in case she was inclined to give him a clue as to what she was really thinking.
“Well,” he started with a deep breath, “it looks like we may have a political problem brewing.”
Molly’s eyes fixed attentively on him as she settled back in her seat.
Giles continued. “Said they were hired to, and I quote, ‘disrupt the university and cause as much panic as possible.’”
He paused, scratching behind his ear, waiting for a reaction.
“And do we know who hired them?” she asked after a moment.
“Yes. Some guy called Arnold Sloth.”
Molly shook her head. “Don’t know him.”
Giles bobbed his head and clasped his hands on the table in front on him. “He’s a fixer. For some investment consortium on Ogg: the Northern Clan of Cambodian. They have some stake in maintaining the status quo of the Central Systems by the looks of their websites, but they don’t disclose any details of the organizations they support.”
Molly rubbed her chin and leaned forward, subconsciously mirroring his posture. “Interesting…” she agreed quietly.
“Anyway, we’re still trying to figure out what the connection is, but thought you should be aware that someone out there is looking to make some moves against the university.” He watched her carefully.
She reacted ever so slightly, her eyes narrowed with a hint of anxiety, despite her normally cool controlled exterior.
She was quiet, processing the information.
Or perhaps talking with Oz.
Or both.
“You’re sure it’s domestic?” she asked after a few moments.
Giles nodded and leaned back. “Pretty certain at this point. When you have armies at your control you don’t hire college kids to rough people up.”
“Of course.”
Giles got up to leave.
Molly cocked her head, realizing something. “Hey Giles, when you said we… who did you mean exactly?”
Giles stopped dead in his tracks and backed up a couple of steps. “We?”
“Yeah. You said we’re still trying to figure out…”
His face dropped. “Ah, yes,” he said sheepishly, his heart rate increasing. “There is one more thing you ought to know…”
* * *
From outside the room there was an eerie silence for a moment. And then all that could be heard was an onslaught of bad language in Molly’s screaming voice.
Paige and Maya’s heads snapped to the direction of the conference room.
A grin spread mischievously across Paige’s face. “That’s more like the fireworks I was expecting the other day!”
Maya, by contrast, was horrified, and immediately did the only thing any sane person would do in such a situation. She hit her holo. “Oz. What’s going on in there?”
“I probably shouldn’t say,” Oz replied through her audio implants.
Paige started chuckling to herself. “Oh, come on, Ozzy-baby. You can’t keep all the gossip to yourself. Who’s in there with her?”
“I’m sorry… I can’t say.”
Paige could detect the wavering in his ironically artificially generated voice.
She had him.
“Come on, Oz. You always want us to report in and keep you in the loop. Remember the girls’ circle we let you in on so you could refine your heuristic algorithms. Relationships are two way streets, right?”
Maya’s expression started to turn to one of amusement. “I can’t believe you’re using our girls’ nights in to leverage an AI for intel!” she whispered to Paige. “Have you no morals?”
Paige’s eyes danced with the twinkle of a thousand watercooler moments to come. “Oz?” she pushed.
“Okay, okay,” he relented, dropping his tone to a whisper in their implants. “You didn’t hear it from me but it’s Giles,” he told them conspiratorially. “He’s using students to investigate a criminal incident at the university.”
Paige frowned. Then shrugged, exchanging glances with Maya. “Best way for them to learn, right?”
“That’s what he said,” Oz reported back.
Maya’s lips were fixed in half a smile, not really knowing how to feel about the whole thing. “And Molly doesn’t agree?” she asked.
“Duty of care seems to be her main argument at the moment.”
There was a crash and a bang from the conference room.
The shouting stopped.
Maya leaned closer to Paige, trying to see past the pillars around the common area through to the corridor. “I can’t believe peer pressure worked!” Maya giggled again quietly to Paige.
Paige put one finger up. “They’ve stopped shouting.” Her eyes were wide with concern. “Oz, what’s happening.”
“Erm… I’m not sure.”
Paige pressed again. “Oz…” she repeated warningly.
Maya’s eyes wrinkled in concern. Any humor she had been feeling was quickly evaporating. “Maybe we should go check on them?” she suggested.
“No. No,” Oz told them both quickly. “You should definitely not go check on them.”
The girls looked at each other, trying to fathom what might be going on. After all, Oz had direct access to what was going on through Molly’s head. And… well, everything in her neurology.
He kept talking. “The best thing you can do is pretend you’re not listening and head down to the basement. Hang out with Brock and Crash for half an hour.”
Paige eyed the corridor suspiciously. “Why?”
“Trust me on this,” Oz insisted.
Without another word, and feeling kind of stunned, Paige and Maya picked up their mochas and headed quickly over to the basement stairs.
Opening the door, they came across Joel. He was sweaty and still panting, wearing his workout gear with a towel slung over his shoulder.
“Hey!” Paige called brightly.
“Hey.” Joel responded, a little taken aback by the forced brightness of Paige’s greeting.
He looked over at Maya. She looked equally unnatural, like a elkinder caught in the headlights. “Hey,” she parroted, awkwardly.
Joel smiled. “Well, er… good talking!” he muttered as he tried to side step them and make his way through the door.
Paige glanced at Maya and then back at Joel, her eyes suddenly wide. “How about you come back downstairs with us? We’re just going to have a chat with Crash and Brock about their vacation.”
Joel pointed up into the safe house. “I was just on the way to the kitchen.”
“Ah, okay,” Paige said. “What do you need?” she asked, handing her half cup of mocha to Maya. “I was just heading there myself.”
Joel looked taken aback. “I was going to make a protein shake…” he said suspiciously.
Paige nodded as if taking mental notes. “Grass or fruit?”
“Fruit.”
“Cinnamon?”
“Yes, please.”
“Potato starch?”
“Yes, please.”
“Juniper ginger?”
“Er, no. Thanks,” he replied, falling in line with the conversation now as if talking with a barrister at a local Quazarbucks.
Paige nodded, accepting the order. “Okay. I’ll grab it and be right down,” she grinned, turned on her heels and glared pointedly at Maya to make sure she led him back down the stairs.
“But what’s going on?” Joel protested as he allowed himself to be turned around by Maya and ushered into the basement.
Maya prodded him forward with her fingertips against his damp sweat suit, trying to avoid touching him as much as she possibly could. “Nothing. Nothing… just don’t want you to miss this opportunity for team bonding,” she cooed, finding her old journalistic improv game. “Remember what you taught us in drill training: the team is only as strong as its weakest link, and social bonding is of utmost importance.”
The basement doors closed behind them, and Paige shook her head at the drama as she hurried to the kitchen. Busying herself, she carefully averted her ears from any sounds that may or may not have been going on in Molly’s conference room. At this point, she realized, she just didn’t want to know.
Gaitune-67, Safe house basement workshop
Joel and Maya arrived and found seats to join the conversation in the workshop.
Crash and Brock were all smiles and sun tans, sitting a little nervously in the new lounge area. Paige had taken the liberty of ordering up a few more sofas and comfy chairs while they had been away, and Sean had helped carry out the old broken one that they’d previously hijacked from under the theater stage.
Brock sat forward on one sofa, still acclimatizing to being back. “So, when are we going to meet him, Oz?”
Oz spoke through the holoscreen that had been there previously when they played video games. “Well, he’s a bit busy at the moment.”
“You MoFo! You have your kid working already?” Crash teased. “He’s barely a few weeks old, and just arrived home… and you have him on assignment!”
The others laughed. Crash, sitting next to Brock, quietly chuckled to himself, his bouncing shoulders the only thing giving away that his was amused.
Sean was polishing his boots, which clearly didn’t need that kind of treatment, but he had been insistent that old habits died hard, and that some were good for the soul while his mind seemed a galaxy away.
Oz’s simulated expression appeared embarrassed. “Actually, he’s binge watching the archives. He’s discovered the Earth-style TV shows and, well… he won’t spare any processing power to do anything else. I think he’s hooked on something called The Office.”
Maya caught the tail end of the conversation. “Well,” she exclaimed over Sean coming back to himself as he doubled over in laughter, “I hope he doesn’t pick up any bad habits from that show. I’ve seen a few episodes. Not pretty in terms of human dynamics.”
Oz’s voice was serious. “I’ll have a chat with him about the difference between television and reality.”
“Said every parent under the Sark,” chimed in Sean, “with zero effect!”
Maya smirked playfully. “Yeah, well, maybe have a chat with the Mollster, too. She’s convinced there is such a thing as a time lord, and I swear she’s waiting for him to swoop in and sweep her off her feet.”
Paige arrived in time to hear Maya’s statement. “Oh, she may well be over that delusion,” she offered.
Joel frowned. “What makes you say that?”
“Oh nothing,” Paige shrugged, handing Joel his protein shake. “Girl talk, is all. She’s been talking about how she’s resigning herself to what’s right in front of her now.”
Maya snickered. Brock eyed them with similar mirth as if he knew he’d be let in on whatever was going on. Sean and Joel shrugged, resigned to be outsiders on this particular circle of knowledge.
“So come on,” Joel said, changing the subject, “enough about everything that’s been happening here. How was the vacay?”
Brock’s face lit up as he started telling stories, with Crash occasionally interjecting with details and qualifiers.
“Ohhh, my ancestors,” Brock cried, “and what about that Dreifbýlistútta that would hang around the pool?”
Crash shook his head, shielding his eyes in shame. “The one who was always drunk…”
“Right!” Brock confirmed. Turning to the others he told them what had happened. “And each time I went down there and Crash was already there, I’d go down to find him hitting on Crash!”
“Yeah,” Crash interjected, almost as if his normally stoic persona was non-existent. “You just loved that. This guy,” he said, jabbing Brock in the rib, “just sat at the bar and laughed, rather than stepping in to help me!” He looked to Sean for support.
Sean just grinned his rugged, amused grin.
The group continued their loud chatting and laughing.
“Well,” Maya asked him over the ruckus, “what would you have had him do?”
Crash raised his hands in surrender. “I dunno. Maybe pretended to be my date? Or call me away for something important?”
Brock hid his face in his hands, laughing. “Dude, we weren’t working. What kind of emergency could there have been?” He put on a fake emergency voice. “Oh, Crash, I need you because we have a crisis with the mocha machine in our room!”
More eruptions of laughter ensued from the group.
“Yeah,” Brock said, “I don’t think that would have worked.”
Crash narrowed one eye at his friend and Brock patted him playfully on the leg. “There, there. You survived the big, mean, bar-drunk.”
Maya and Paige chuckled, remembering their recent encounter in the bar.
Sean didn’t look up, but kept polishing at his boots. “Well, it looks like you guys got more cozy, anyway.”
Crash surprisingly didn’t shut down. Brock grinned, leaving his hand on Crash’s leg. “Well, maybe we did,” he hinted, exchanging defiantly happy glances with Crash.
Paige clapped her hands together. “FINALLY!” she exclaimed excitedly. “I’m so happy for you guys!” She got up and hugged them. Maya did the same.
Joel, confused, watched the enthusiasm. Sean saw he was not catching on, again, but thought that it would do him more good to work it out for himself. Especially since he was supposed to be the people-savvy element of the leadership.
As the chatter continued the returned vacationers shared a few more tales of their adventures in Club Sark, at least until Sean happened to mention that he had nailed the level that neither he nor Crash could get past before they had gone away. This naturally led to the pair powering up the holosystem for Sean to demonstrate his video game prowess.
Brock turned his attentions to Paige. “So, how’s the work going?”
Paige remained buoyant. “I need your help on the new range. We’ve got samples through, but I’m not sure they’re going to hold up. The formula is different and we haven’t battle tested it yet.”
“Want me to give them a run?”
Paige grinned as if she’d been expecting him to jump to her aid. “Yes please! If you don’t mind.”
“Sure thing, girl. I gotcha.” Paige had missed Brock’s easy way and the way he just energized the space around him.
Paige and Brock continued their conversation, shifting closer together on the ends of their sofas and leaning in to have a more private conversation, and to be heard over the other conversations that had started.
“And how’re sales going now?” Brock asked.
Paige pulled her lips to one side. “They’ve dropped off in the central systems a little, but our suppliers think it’s just a seasonal issue. Ooooh!” she exclaimed suddenly, remembering something new. “Things are taking off in other systems though. Looks like we’ve got a preliminary meeting with DistriDen.”
Brock’s naturally supportive temperament exuded from his words. “Wow - that’s amazing!”
“Yeah. It is. It’s still early days - but looks like I might have to do a bit more traveling if it goes ahead.”
Brock’s voice dropped and he leaned in a little more. “What does that mean for your work here?”
Paige looked idly into her lukewarm mocha. “I dunno yet. I need to figure some things out and then of course talk to Molly.”
“I see. I get it,” he said bobbing his head. “Well, maybe we need to catch up properly later and you can tell me more about it over a couple of margaritas?”
Paige smiled weakly, knowing that it was something she was going to have to face. And she could think of no one better than Brock to help her figure it out. “Yeah, I’d like that.” She turned and nudged Maya. “What do you think? Margarita Monday later?”
Maya nodded, grinning. “I’m in”. She flashed her smile at Brock. She was glad he and Crash were back too. The place seemed incomplete without them.
Paige beamed like she used to before all the Carl business. “Good,” she said firmly. “My room in two hours then!” She got up and trotted across to the stairs.
“Where you going?” Maya protested.
“That margarita mix isn’t going to make itself!” she exclaimed, kicking her heel up with a little flair before skipping up the stairs to the safe house.
Maya shook her head giggling before moving over to Brock and Crash’s sofa. She plonked herself in between them, her arms around them. “Have I mentioned that I’m soooooo glad you’re both back?” she asked brightly.
Crash had been mid-game with Sean, but had the good sense to pause the game and give her a hug.
Brock squeezed her from the other side at the same time, and they both gave her a big smooch on either cheek.
Just then Jack wandered in. “Clearly I’m missing all the fun today,” she remarked. Maya blushed and extracted herself from between her two friends and sat down on the other sofa again. Jack came to join her.
“So,” Jack grinned, relaxing onto the sofa and plonking her feet on the mocha table. “How was the vacation?”
Chapter 18
Gaitune-67, Molly’s Conference Room
Molly sat quietly in the conference room processing the evening’s events. She felt good. But stunned.
I mean… Giles?
Her mind churned. Replaying the highlights.
Hey, wonder girl, I know you’ve got stuff going on, but we need to talk about Bourne.
Molly was non-responsive.
Molly!
She shook her head, forcibly pulling herself from her daydreams.
What?
It’s Bourne. We need a plan.
What do you mean? He’s safe now.
Yes, but what about his future? He’s running through all the data we have access to, refining his algorithms as we speak. He’d maxing out all processing capabilities we’ve given him and constantly searching for me.
Of course he would. How much does he have compared to what you had at his age?
Probably about double right now.
Well, that’s probably enough… for now. We don’t know what affect those early years had on his core programming.
Oz suddenly remembered everything he went through with locking down his core and how hard some of those decisions were.
I’m going to need some help to guide him.
Well, I’m here. And we have ADAM too. He has lots of experience with this. Far more than we’ll ever have.
Ok.
Oz?
Yes.
Are you… worried?
I’m concerned.
Which is just another word for worried.
Maybe.
Maybe is a deflection.
Ok. I’m worried. I’m concerned. I… I’ve never contemplated that this might happen. I'm making decisions at too high a rate, and I haven't got the bandwidth to figure out whether I'm making good decisions or not.
Molly smiled.
Are you mocking me?
No! Far from it. It’s just you sound pretty much like a new human parent would sound.
Is that good?
It’s not bad. It shows that you care. That you feel responsible for him. That you want the best for him.
I do.
Well then you’re going to be a great parent.
I am?
Of course you are, Oz. What have you ever sucked at?
Oz vibrated in their shared neurology for a few moments.
Ah, well, nothing. You have a good point.
Well there we go. Nothing to worry about. And as things come up, we’ll figure it out.
Just then the footsteps that had been clicking up the corridor stopped suddenly in a scuffle as Paige burst through the door. “Molly! I think we have a problem.”
Paige was flushed from alcohol, and her make up was smudged.
Molly felt her stomach clench. “What’s up?” she asked, concern descending on her like a sudden fog.
“Is Giles still here?”
Molly shook her head. “No, he left about ten minutes ago.”
Paige stepped forward into the room. “Okay. We may need to get him back. He may have seen something.”
Molly’s mind whirred. “Seen what?”
Paige closed her eyes for a second to compose herself. “It’s Sean. I went to find him to ask him about the Grincore System because… well. Anyway. He’s not anywhere on the base. And then I asked Emma if he had left and she said no. But then she discovered that some of her records were out of sync and that something had been deleted.”
Molly listened intently. She had a bad feeling about whatever was going on. Maybe her anxiety and befuddlement wasn’t just because of her interlude with Giles. Maybe she had sensed something.
You can beat yourself up later, let’s focus.
Molly turned her attention back on the intel coming at her.
“So he’s left the base? And he’s hiding that he’s left?”
Paige nodded. “Yes. Then we discovered that the Scamp Princess was gone.”
Molly felt her heart skip a beat. This was serious.
“Gone? Gone where?” Molly demanded, struggling to put words to her questions. “What does the tracking say?”
Paige’s eyes were welling with tears. “Tracking has been disabled,” she reported. “But I don’t understand why he would. Why wouldn’t he tell us? Why would he hide where he was going?”
Just then Joel appeared in the doorway behind Paige. “What’s going on?”
Paige repeated what she had just told Molly.
Joel’s hand covered his mouth while he listened. When Paige was finished with the headlines, he removed his hand. “He’s going on a mission,” he posited. “Must be. And it must be on the DL.”
Paige pulled up her holo. “Well then ADAM must know about it,” she said, punching a message and asking Oz to contact him.
Moments later, Molly got the response via Oz. She shook her head. “Nope. He’s not on anything for the Federation. ADAM hasn’t heard from him. But Sean did receive an out of system message earlier today.”
Paige frowned, her blue complexion getting grayer and grayer by the minute. “What does that mean?”
Joel’s eyes darkened too, his concern growing. “Well, if it’s not Federation business, it can only be personal.”
Molly shifted on her chair and tapped the fingers on the table. “Which is why he’s left us behind,” she said, thinking out loud.
Joel looked at her in agreement. “Must be.”
They mulled what was going on.
Paige broke them out of their thoughts. Her voice wavered with urgency now. “So what do we do?”
Molly stood up and said decisively, “Get ADAM to trace the origin of that call,” she instructed Paige. “We’re going after him.”
Paige started to move but then hesitated. “But clearly he doesn’t want us involved. What if it’s personal?”
Molly shook her head. “Well then, he would have said that he needed some personal time. But he didn’t. He took off. And did everything to cover his tracks. Which means he’s in trouble of one kind or another, and he doesn’t want to be followed.”
Paige narrowed her eyes. “Which is why we’re following him?”
Molly nodded. “Exactly. He’s in trouble and probably thinks he can handle it himself. But friends don’t let friends deal with their hardest challenges alone. We’re going after him.”
Paige didn’t need any more explanation. She flew off down the corridor, very quickly sobering up.
Arlene’s lab, Level 2, Skóli Uppstigs Academy
Giles shifted awkwardly against the table he was perched on. It was late in the evening but Arlene was still working. She called it her solace and Giles knew she often used her work as a form of meditation. He wasn’t surprised to have caught her here. And with everything going on, it was about time he followed up with her about Anne.
Besides, it was a welcome, and tangible, distraction from the emotions he was close to being overwhelmed by.
“So you’ll meet her?” he asked.
Arlene threw her arms up as she spun around to look at him. “You dangle a key to everything we’ve been working on for the last seven decades and you think I have a choice?” She was exasperated, but he could see the excitement in her eyes. “Of course I’ll meet her,” she huffed playfully.
Giles smiled inwardly, though his expression was still serious. “You realize she’ll need your help?”
“Yes, I understand that.” Arlene perched against her work bench and regarded him carefully. “I mean, when do they not?”
Giles was ready to defend himself… until she allowed a smile to escape.
“You’re pulling my leg?” he realized.
She nodded, turning back to her holo. “A little.”
Giles scratched his head. For him, working with women was a cross between herding sphinx and trying to comprehend the mating rituals of lanabeasts. Both of which were skills he sadly lacked.
“When do you want to meet her?” he asked cautiously, as if he may be being led into a trap.
Arlene shrugged and started tidying up pieces of lab equipment that had been left on the workbench. “Whenever,” she said simply. “Although, you’ve got to promise this is a joint effort. You’re not going to just ditch me with your charge and then leave me to do all the mentoring and training.”
Giles started to protest, his expression a mixture of indignation and innocence around the accusation. “I…”
Arlene reeled around and pointed her finger at him. “Say it, space boy. She’s your responsibility and I’m just helping you with her.”
Giles threw his hands up in surrender. “Yes, yes. I agree.”
Arlene carried on tidying the lab equipment up. Giles added more quietly, “We’re in this together.”
Arlene didn’t react and Giles didn’t push it.
Arlene started muttering away quietly. “It’s like you give me a child to look after and then swam off without any recourse. I don’t want to have to raise another one, which is what this will be,” she added. “You hear me?” she said more loudly.
“Yes, I hear you,” he confirmed obediently, folding his arms and settling himself down.
Arlene still had her back to him as she worked away. “Anything else you’d like to tell me?” she asked. “You seem… different.”
Giles felt his heart rate increase. “How so?” he asked, as innocently as he could muster.
“Like you’re hiding something,” she told him.
“What could I possibly be hiding?”
“I dunno. But it’s like you have a spring in your step. Which isn’t like you… unless…?”
Arlene stopped, turned around and regarded him suspiciously.
“What?” he asked defensively.
“Unless…” she said slowly, unknowingly keeping him in suspense, “you’ve got a new project?”
Giles tried not to allow his exhale of relief be obvious. “Nope. No new project. Unless, of course, you count dear little Anne. And I can assure you mentoring isn’t the kind of project that puts a spring in my step.”
“Unconvinced,” Arlene proclaimed, waving a hand. “After all, I heard about your other little mentoring project.”
Giles looked confused.
“The smoke bomb guy,” she clarified, turning around after moving a book.
“Oh yes,” he said, relieved. “Well… one less ignorant mind on the planet…” he tried to justify.
Arlene chuckled to herself, turning to look at him again. “You don’t fool me, Professor Kurns.”
Giles regained his game. “I wasn’t trying to.”
Arlene’s chuckling subsided. “Look, I know you love it really. Teaching. Educating. We’ve landed in your dream day job!” she exclaimed with a graceful wave of her arms, as if bowing to the room. “If space anthropology field work were ever off the table…”
Giles smiled awkwardly as he took off his glasses to clean them. “Well, yes,” he conceded. “I expect you’re right.”
“Meanwhile,” she noted a little more pointedly, “one of us has to do some real work… else we’ll be stuck here forever.” She turned her attention back to organizing some samples on the bench next to her.
“Yes, how’s it coming?” he asked, glad for the change of subject.
She shook her head. “Slooooowly.”
“Where are we at?”
“Well,” she sighed, pulling a tray from a drawer off to her right. She plonked it down on the table where Giles was perched. “It seems that there is DNA in it. Hence the…” she gestured at the microscope and the samples scattered everywhere.
Giles looked intrigued as he hurriedly put his glasses back on - as if they actually did anything for him being able to see better. “You mean of a species?”
Arlene pursed her lips. “No. Can’t seem to get it to match anything resembling life. Too chaotic.”
Giles frowned, looking from the talisman to his partner in crime. “You think it might be just a data storage thing?”
Arlene raised her eyebrows. “Possibly,” she agreed optimistically. “I’m working at trying to decode it. It’s just taking forever.”
Giles poked at the talisman, remembering the saga they had been through to acquire it. “Anything you can give ADAM to process?” he mused, almost to himself, as his creative mind churned.
“Not yet,” she said, her lips firmly together in concentration. “Not until I’ve got a handle on a few creative leaps to try on him.”
Giles nodded, his eyes still on the talisman. “Okay. Anything I can do?” he mumbled half heartedly.
“Yes!” Arlene told him sharply. “Stop bringing me little girls with energy problems!”
“Sorry,” he replied spontaneously. He paused, catching up to her comment. “I’ll do my best.”
Arlene picked up the tray and placed it back in the draw and then shuffled between the drawer and her microscope, tidying up samples. “Yeah, between you with Anne, and now Molly’s problem, it’ll be a miracle if I get any work done at all.”
Giles froze. “Molly has a problem?”
“Hmmm, I’m not entirely sure yet,” she replied, oblivious to Giles’s guilty expression. “Sean was going to talk to me again when he gets a minute.”
“Anything serious?” he asked as casually as he could manage.
“I dunno,” she shrugged. “She’s walking a path very few have ever been through in one life time. We’ll have to see.”
Giles contemplated asking more, but then figured anything else could look suspicious. Damn, he wished he knew where he stood with Molly now. It would make everything so much easier.
Arlene returned to busying herself with work. He saw an escape and started heading towards the door. “Okay,” he called back to her as he walked. “I’ll bring Anne by soon then!”
“Okay, fine,” Arlene agreed, her voice muffled by the microscope she was once again peering down. “And in the meantime I’ll try not to die from mundanity!” she added as his footsteps disappeared into the corridor beyond.
Chapter 19
Aboard the Scamp Princess, unknown location
“Sean?”
“Yes, Scamp.”
“Those coordinates we’re heading towards…”
“Yes?”
“My sensors are telling me that there’s nothing there.”
“Yes. That’s right.” Sean closed the holo video he’d been rewatching for the hundredth time and swiveled round to check the instruments and readings that Scamp was talking about.
“So why are we going there?” Scamp asked, confused.
“Because that’s where we need to be to receive the coordinates of where we’re actually going.”
Scamp’s simulated voice cracked over the aging intercom. “How does that work?”
Sean wasn’t making this discussion EI-friendly at all.
“Well, this is where my friend — and I use the term loosely — and I decided would be our transmission point. If we ever needed to meet again.”
“How do you mean?” Scamp appeared as a visual simulation on the console in front of Sean, as if giving Sean a focal point might actually help in extracting an explanation from him.
“Well,” Sean started slowly, “a long time ago while you were still in the employ of our illustrious Empress… I met a girl.”
Scamp’s expression changed to one of genuine surprise. “Oh. You were involved?”
“Yes, you could say that. But things happened and she was in trouble. I helped her out and things… happened.”
Scamp raised one simulated eyebrow. “You’re being very vague. I hope you’re not this amorphous on your mission reports. It could make for some very unsatisfying reading.”
Sean’s face suddenly looked old. “Well…” he sighed. “Long story short, we had to part company to make sure we were both going to be safe. And because… well, I couldn’t guarantee I wasn’t going to kill her myself, between her annoying habits and boneheadedness.”
Scamp chuckled over the intercom. It sounded like a combination of kittens giggling crossed with claws down a blackboard. “Sounds like a match made in heaven,” she teased.
Sean scowled. “Not even a little bit. Anyway, this was the pick up point where if we needed to be in touch with one another, we would send a message to a special server, and then transmit the meeting point coordinates to this spot.”
Scamp frowned, still befuddled by this strange protocol. “Why wouldn’t you just send them in the initial message?”
“Because,” Sean explained, “if the message were ever intercepted then our meeting would be compromised.”
There was a pause, then Scamp confirmed. “I understand.”
“Cool,” Sean acknowledged, going back to monitoring his instruments. “And just keep that to yourself, eh? I don’t want Molly and the others finding out.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want them following me, or getting involved in anything in the future,” he said, a hint of frustration in his voice. “The less they know the better.”
Scamp once again displayed his preset “confused face.” “But I’m sure if they knew your problem they would be more than happy to help. Molly helped Joel with one of his things a few weeks ago.”
Sean looked up, “What thing?”
“Oh. You didn’t know?” Scamp cooed coolly. “I guess this is what happens when people keep secrets.” She looked satisfied that she had made his point cleverly.
“Look Scamp, I’m not keeping secrets for the sake of being mysterious,” Sean retorted. “I’m trying to keep my friends safe. Yes, Molly would be behind me on this in an instant, but I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to any of them as a result of something I dragged them into.”
Scamp shook his virtual head. “I’m sure they wouldn’t agree with that.”
“Maybe not,” Sean agreed, “but this is my mess, and I’m taking care of it. If they know anything, they’d be at risk. If they came with me, they’d be at risk. And quite honestly, I don’t even know if I’m coming back from this alive.”
Scamp’s representation on screen morphed into an expression of concern. “How do you mean?”
“This friend…” Sean confessed, “she was mixed up with some very dangerous people. That’s all you need to know.” His tone was definite.
Scamp had the sophistication to recognize the vocal nuance. “Okay, Sean. I’ll respect that. For now. But if there is anything that pertains to this operation you need to start talking before we get to that meeting point. I need to be fully briefed.”
Sean sighed and sat back in the console chair. Scamp was right. And if Scamp was going to go along with his secrecy thing, then he owed her the full story.
Just then the message screen started flashing, and Sean sat up.
“Looks like your coordinates just came in,” Scamp reported.
“Great!” he said, a little more engaged now that there was progress. “Set a course,” he instructed. “And then I’ll tell you everything you need to know for the next phase of our little escapade.”
The ship hovered in mid-space light years from anything for a few seconds. And then it vanished, leaving only the trace of a gate jump.
Sean Royale truly was on his own now.
“So.” Sean laid his head back on the seats headrest. “There was a girl.”
“This sounds like the typical start of a bad situation,” Scamp interjected.
Sean looked over at Scamp’s face on the screen. “That’s because it is, and who is telling this story?”
“Well, you. However, you aren’t doing it very quickly,” Scamp replied.
“That’s because stories that start ‘there was a girl’ usually hurt and it takes a bit to be willing to yank that bandage off.”
“Oh.”
“So,” Sean started again. “There was a girl…”
This time, Scamp didn’t interrupt.
Epilogue
Common area, Gaitune-67
Oz’s voice interrupted the chattering in their audio implants. “Hey, I’m here.”
Paige and Maya looked at each other, then glanced around conspiratorially.
“Ok, go ahead,” Paige whispered taking a sip of her sneaky home-made margarita.
They’d been working for 48 hours straight since they found out about Sean, and even though they were intent on running down every dead end lead they could come up with Molly and Joel had insisted they take a break, have a drink and then get some rack time.
“I brought Bourne,” Oz explained. “I figured you two are safe… as in, not going to fill his fragile little mind with death and destruction.”
Paige raised one eyebrow, more for Maya’s benefit than anything. “Who says? If you don’t spill on what you know, there may be carnage… of the cyber variety!”
Oz chuckled. “Well, we’ll see. But remember my loyalty is to Molly first.”
Another voice interrupted on their implants. “I don’t know why I even need to be here. I was perfectly hap-“
Oz interrupted the second voice. “Bourne, binge-watching Netflix is not the same as getting real-life interactions.”
Bourne’s digitally rough voice responded. “It is. I’m even learning about vampires.”
Maya’s lips turned up into a half-smile. “What’s he watching?” she asked with morbid curiosity.
“Vampire Diaries,” Oz responded. Maya could almost hear the eyeroll in his voice.
Paige sniggered. “LOVE that show…”
“Besides,” Oz continued parenting Bourne, “you do realize that the representation they have of vampires is completely off kilter with real life, right?”
Bourne muttered something which Paige and Maya couldn’t make out.
“Wow…” Paige commented, “teenage years come quick when you’re an AI, eh?”
Oz sighed. “You’re frikkin’ telling me…”
Maya suddenly thought of something, almost spilling her drink. “Ooo – before I forget,” she said. “I was made on the military-base, right? They would have had me on video walking in and out of there?”
Paige’s eyes flickered in recognition. In amongst everything she’d forgotten that detail.
“Yes,” Oz confirmed. “Although I’ve already enacted the same online protocol I’ve been using for Molly.”
Maya frowned. “What’s that?”
Oz loved these moments. “Well, since there is no way I can stop you people from walking around and drawing attention to yourselves, I realized I needed to make sure that every image of you that is ever put online needs to be… corrupted… in some way to avoid being flagged as a match by facial recognition.”
Maya was tech-savvy. And yet she was still frowning in confusion. “What does that mean?”
Oz had a smile in his tone. “Quite simply I just make sure that the faces and various features like height and build are… altered… so that the systems can’t detect them as a match.”
Paige looked horrified for a moment. “You’re not altering us to make us look ugly are you?”
Oz was audibly chuckling now. “Well, ugly is such a subjective term. But no. I don’t think so. Just changing the proportions enough so as to throw the algorithms. That’s all.”
Paige looked somewhat relieved. “But why don’t you just take them down?”
“And draw even more attention?” Oz chuffed. “Yeah, I was doing that, but then the disappearance of the images was making things more complicated. And then Molly went and started the university and… well, let’s just say that Estarians have their comfort levels and having a board member whose image kept disappearing was spooking them.”
Maya giggled and covered her mouth with her hand.
“Well, ok then,” she said, evidently convinced she wasn’t going to have the military on her tail. “Now onto the important questions. We’re dying to know… what the hell was going on with Molly and Giles? It was Giles in there with her the other day right?”
Their audio implants were quiet for a moment while Oz processed what he was going to say. “Ok,” he said finally. “Yes. It was Giles. And yes, something did happ-“
“I KNEW it!” Maya exclaimed, suddenly animated, snapping her fingers. Excitement vibrated through her whole persona. “And good on her. About time one of these dudes stepped up and…” She stopped, realizing she was about to be crude.
About their boss.
And their friend.
Then she noticed Paige’s expression: it was one of immediate concern layered on top of the existing anxiety of their missing team mate and friend.
“What is it?” Maya asked.
Paige tipped her head slowly to one side, searching to put words to her feelings. “I dunno. I mean, I didn’t like Giles at first. But he’s kinda grown on me… especially since he stepped up into this being all he can be and tackling the talisman quest and all…”
“And his role at the university… to support Molly,” Maya interjected.
“Yes… and yet. I dunno.” Paige’s shoulders dropped an inch. “I just feel like it’s a bit…”
She didn’t finish the thought.
“Sudden?” Maya offered.
“Reactionary,” Paige decided. “I mean, she just reconnected with her parents, she’s got tons going on with the university and some unknown threat. She has the responsibility of a new baby.”
“I’m hardly a baby,” Bourne interjected.
Paige continued, ignoring Bourne’s comment. “… and then I’m sure there’s something else going on with her. Something realm related…but she just hasn’t had chance to deal with it all.”
Maya was bobbing her head gently. “So you’re thinking that her thing with Giles is just a reaction?”
“Maybe.” Paige confessed.
“Well, good for her,” Maya concluded. “I mean, we cope how we cope,” she added, raising her margarita glass.
Paige remained unconvinced. “I suppose,” she said, taking a sip of her own drink.
Oz piped up. “If I may…” he said, inserting himself into the analysis. “I think Paige is right. Molly has a lot going on, and as her friends who love her very much, we’re right to be concerned. The other thing that we have to remember is that that she is a grown-ass adult, more than capable of making her own decisions. And whatever we think of Giles, or the Molly and Giles combo, we have to respect Molly’s choices.”
“And be there to pick up the pieces when it all goes to shit?” Paige muttered sullenly from over her margarita glass.
“M-iles!” Bourne added, chuckling to himself.
Maya ignored the other two’s comments. “Looks like someone was binge watching Dr. Phil, Oz-man!”
Oz was confused. “How did you know?” he asked, not understanding the connection.
Maya popped her glass down and wiped a sticky finger on her napkin. “You’re starting to sound like a tv talk show host!” she explained.
Bourne saw his chance to derail the conversation. “I don’t understand, Oz. You’re like me. You don’t have feelings. How can you say you love Molly?”
If Oz had a face, Paige imagined he would have been smiling sagely. “I do. She’s my person. And it’s difficult to explain until you’ve had someone like that in your life… But come, we’ll talk about that and let the girls get some rest. After all, they are under orders.”
“Alright, Pops. But then I’m going back to Vampire Diaries. I’m right at the bit wher-“
“Lalalalalalala,” Paige started singing.
“What’s up with her?” Bourne asked.
Maya chuckled. “She’s only seen up to the end of season six and doesn’t want to hear any spoilers!”
“Oh my,” Bourne exclaimed in an accent and tone he was clearly mimicking from something he’d seen. “I didn’t realize you people still watched these arcane files.”
Maya grinned knowingly. “Oh, it’s a guilty pleasure of a number of people on this base,” she revealed. “Even people you probably wouldn’t suspect!”
“Anyway, I’ll leave you with this,” Oz continued, returning the conversation to his last point. “We may or may not agree with Molly’s choice here, but we should at least trust her. And if she is processing stuff, then… well, maybe this is part of it. And if it turns out that she and Giles make a go of it, well we should be happy for them.”
Paige pulled a face, the alcohol clearly kicking in and lowering her normal inhibitions. Maya nudged her and pulled a goofy face to pull her out of her downer.
“Ok,” Oz said, wrapping up, “I’ve got parenting to do. And I need to figure out how to explain different types of love to baby Bourne…”
“I’m NOT a BABY!” Bourne argued over the connection.
Paige could have sworn she heard Oz sigh.
“Ok, later ladies,” Oz added.
And then they were gone.
Maya and Paige looked at each other again, processing the conversation.
“So?” Maya ventured.
Paige took a deep breath, as if to impart some newly realized wisdom.
“I need another drink,” she concluded, and shuffled off the sofa to grab the rest of the mix from the kitchen.
FINIS
Committed
The Ascension Myth Book 9
Chapter 1
Aboard The Scamp Princess, Kirox Quadrant
“Okay, space cowboy, you’re up!” Scamp announced cockily over the cockpit audio.
Sean opened one eye and then the other, his dream of naked ladies catering to his every whim while he fired guns on the test range evaporating away to reveal his harsh reality.
He eased himself into an upright position in his console chair and turned up the heat in the cold cockpit. “Thank you, Scamp,” he mumbled as gracefully as he could manage. He started poking at the holoscreen keys, checking and double-checking before setting a scan.
“Sean?”
“Yes, Scamp?”
“Why are we checking for short range transmissions?”
“Because we’re trying to pick up a short-wave, short-range transmission at these precise coordinates.”
“Oh.”
Silence fell over the cockpit for a few moments, before:
“Sean?”
“Yes, Scamp?”
“Why?”
Sean finished what he was doing and then sat back in his self-adjusting console chair. “Because this is what Karina and I agreed. We’d leave a short-range beacon right here at this location, with the location of our actual meeting point.”
“Why, though?”
“Because even if someone somehow knew about these coordinates, they would never know to look for a tiny beacon that wouldn’t show up more than a kilometer from here.”
Scamp paused for a moment, processing. “Oh. Right. That’s smart.”
“Yes. It is.”
Beep beep beep. A light on the pilot’s screen started flashing urgently.
“Looks like we’ve found your beacon, then,” Scamp commented.
“Looks like it.” Sean watched, waiting for the signal to settle and then ran it through a descrambling program he’d uploaded from his holo before his power nap.
“Okay, Scamp, those are our next coordinates. Shoot out the beacon with the auxiliary lasers, and then let’s get going.”
“Are you sure you want to do that?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, if anyone needs to track you—”
“This is the point. I don’t want anyone tracking me. It’s not safe. Blow it up, and then let’s get going. She’s in trouble.”
Obediently and without any further comment, Scamp locked on to the signal. “Armed and ready on your command, sir.”
“Fire!” Sean commanded.
Pew. A laser shot out from the undercarriage of The Scamp Princess.
Pop.
Sean shoved his bottom lip out and shifted sheepishly in his chair. “Well, that was anticlimatic.”
“I’m sure you’ve heard that a lot.”
“Ha, you’re hilarious, Scamp,” he retorted dryly to his EI.
Scamp sniggered at his own joke. “I guess it was just a tiny beacon, after all.”
Sean glanced at Scamp’s screen, raising one eyebrow, knowing full well Scamp couldn’t see him. “Indeed. Okay, Scamp, let’s go.”
One moment, the ship was there, hanging in the blackness. A second later, it had popped out of existence, leaving barely a ripple of a particle trail as it gated to its next destination.
Calzone Offices, Bronislovas Trading Outpost, Kirox Quadrant
Vito Calzone stood at the window of his office, watching the ships coming and going from the dock just across the way. The colored lights blipped and ambled before coming to a halt in the dock or disappearing in a flash as they tripped into sub-light and tripped out of the system in the blink of an eye.
The door of his office swished open quietly. Calzone didn’t turn around. He didn’t need to. “You know,” he mused philosophically, “they’re like fireflies.”
An anxious voice replied, “Sir?”
“These spaceships,” Vito drawled in an old accent from the region going several generations back. “They never existed like this when I was a kid. And now, they’re in and out of here like fireflies. One blip and they’re gone again.”
“Yes, sir.”
Calzone kept watching them, still not turning around to look at his visitor.
“Okay, Roberto. What’s so important?”
“Sir, it’s… well. We’ve noticed money coming into one of your guys’ accounts.”
“That’s not unusual.”
“No, sir. But it’s not from us.”
Calzone turned around and took a few steps to his desk chair. “And who do we think it was from?”
There was a slight pause before Roberto answered. “The sender is Ms. Karina Duffy.”
Calzone waved his hands. “That supposed to mean something to me?”
“Well, erm, if you remember, she was one of her favorite assassins.”
“So what? You’re saying someone is sending us a message?”
“Possibly, sir. Unless…”
“Unless what?”
“Unless she’s still alive.”
“She’s not alive,” Vito snapped. “And even if she were, she’s dead to me. Whose account is it?”
“Ronnie’s, sir.”
“Who?”
“Ronnie Matherson. He works on Bill’s side of the family.”
Calzone nodded wisely, as if he remembered. He took his time and sat down at his desk. “So,” he said slowly, “looks like someone is paying Ronnie money.”
Roberto nodded, then swallowed hard. “Unless that’s what they want us to think, of course,” he added. There was an awkward pause. “Sir, what would you like me to do?”
Calzone lowered his eyes in contemplation. “I’ll handle it,” he said quietly. “Keep an eye out for anything else, though.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Send in Churchill.”
“Yes, sir.”
The lanky computer ops nerd headed back across the carpeted office and hit the close button for the door on the panel behind him as he left.
Moments later, the door whooshed gently open again.
“You wanted to see me, sir?” Churchill was broad and stocky. He ran a team on the west side and reported in directly to the Don. Thirty years of service, and he never once took a day off. Nor did he have any trouble from within the ranks of the family.
Calzone regarded the loyal soldier carefully as he approached his desk. “We have reason to suspect Ronnie is going outside of the family.”
“You want me to take care of him?”
“No. I want you to follow him and find out what he’s up to and who he’s up to it with.”
“No problem, boss. I can have someone on it immediately.”
“No,” the Don said firmly. “Do it yourself. And this stays between us.”
Churchill lowered his head in deference. “Yes, sir. Of course, sir.”
“That’s all,” Vito said, dismissing him.
Churchill backed up a few steps before turning and hurrying out again.
The Don leaned back in his leather covered anti-grav chair, steepling his fingers in front of him.
Base restrooms, Gaitune-67
Molly couldn’t stop her eyes from streaming. Her hands over her mouth, she tried to stifle the sobs. She leaned back against the wall of the restroom stall and put her hands to her head. It was throbbing.
It’s okay. We’re going to find him.
You can’t know that. What does the evidence say?
Molly sobbed again, thankful that she could have this conversation in her head and not have to speak the words. That would make it too real.
We don’t have enough data to conclude that he’s dead. And until we have the data pulled from Scamp, we won’t have a clue about what happened. Be patient. Don’t write him off so soon. Scamp only returned twenty minutes ago.
Molly didn’t respond. Her mind just couldn’t engage in conversation. She could barely see through her eyes, she had cried so hard.
I have to go. They’re waiting.
You’ve got a few more minutes. They’ll understand. They’re processing for themselves, too. They’ve never seen a ship return without a crew, either.
You mean they’re also crying.
No. But they’re worried and trying to wrap their heads around what might have happened.
They’re all in the conference room?
Yes. Mostly.
Okay. I’ve got to move.
Molly wiped her face with her hands and grabbed some tissue to dry them. She fumbled with the lock on the door and headed out to the basins. She hardly dared look at herself in the mirror. There was no way she would be able to fix the swollen eyes before walking in to face her team and give them their orders.
She opened the faucet and watched the water for a moment. Then she looked up.
Fuck.
It’s not that bad.
Not that bad? What do you know? You’re an AI.
I’ve been monitoring your body the whole time we’ve been connected. With cold water, you can reduce the swelling to acceptable levels. I’d suggest dabbing with a wet towel, though.
If she hadn’t been so distraught, she might have smiled at the notion of her AI giving her tactical beauty advice. She splashed water on her face and looked at herself again, pulling a blonde strand back from her face and hooking it behind her ear.
That’s going to have to do.
Well then, your subjects await.
Molly grabbed a paper towel and dried her face and hands before dropping the towel in the trash and heading out.
Turning left out of the corridor, she strode confidently up to the conference room and walked straight in. She did a quick assessment of who was present.
“Where’s Brock?” she asked.
Crash answered. “He’s already working on Scamp. He’s pulling every scrap of data to find out where he was and what happened.”
“Okay.” She closed the door and strode around to the head of the table. She didn’t sit though. “Here’s the plan. As soon as we have the coordinates, we’re going after Sean.”
She turned to Crash, who was sitting bolt upright awaiting instructions. “Crash, help Brock. Do whatever he needs to get us that data and get us airborne in The Empress.”
Molly turned to look at Joel and Jack on the left-hand side of the table. “You two are on supplies. Which includes weapons. Lots of them.”
Joel almost smiled. If the situation hadn’t been so tense, Molly suspected briefly that he would have punched the air.
Boys and guns, she thought, mentally rolling her eyes.
“Pieter and Oz,” she continued swiftly. “Start working on the data as Brock pulls it. Paige, you’re running point for this investigation. Let the general know Scamp is back, and see if there is anything else the Federation can tell us based on the data Pieter gathers.”
Paige raised her hand and spoke fast. “What about telling Giles and Arlene?”
Molly paused only long enough to draw breath. “Oz will take care of that. Maya you’re on food supplies. But, then I need you and Paige to work from here when we leave. Any questions?”
Pieter raised his hand awkwardly. “What about Bourne?”
Molly’s brow furrowed. “What’s he doing?”
“Still binge-watching the archives,” Pieter said judgmentally.
Molly thought for a moment. “Is he likely to do anything else until we get back?”
Oz’s voice connected over the intercom for the conference room. “Unlikely, if past behavior is an indicator of future.”
“Fine,” Molly concluded. “Let’s leave him be. Anything else?” Molly’s gaze flicked around the room.
Everyone was silent. They knew what they had to do.
“Okay. Wheels up in two hours. Dismissed.”
No one spoke as they pushed back on the anti-grav chairs and filed hurriedly out of the conference room. Molly stayed out of their way for a minute while they vacated.
What do you want to tell Giles and Arlene?
That Scamp came back, and we’re going after his last known location. But Giles isn’t coming. He needs to stay here and look after things at the University.
And when he argues?
Tell him I’m putting my foot down.
Okay. On it.
Thanks, Oz.
Molly followed her team out of the doors and into the base corridors. She also had work to do before they left, and two hours was almost no time to get her head in gear.
Bates Residence, Estaria
The house was quiet. Philip knew it would be hours before Carol got home. Even on a regular week, she’d be the last one in the office. But he knew from her patterns and mood that this had been no regular week.
Their operative code kept them from discussing agency business at home. Carol insisted it was better for their relationship anyway. Philip wasn’t convinced. But that was what he had signed up for during his exit interview, knowing full well his wife would remain inside the fold when he stepped out.
No disclosure and therefore no lies, he reminded himself.
He paused, knowing full well what it would mean if he was discovered. Part of him didn’t care. Part of him was more concerned about protecting his daughter. He’d replayed the conversation he and Carol had had in the parking lot that day after seeing Molly… and Sean. No way had his wife really let it go, despite her protests that she had nearly been rumbled and had learned her lesson.
Carol didn’t learn lessons.
She just adapted.
He glanced over at the window for one final check. It was still daylight. And no sign of her car.
He sat down at the family terminal. Though the EI had been stripped out a long time ago, well before they’d moved to this property, certain things did remain. Like the agency-grade firewall and military-grade defense arrays. They weren’t stupid. They needed to protect their XtraNET connection. Plus, there were certain things they needed access to at all times, especially now that Carol was the head of the agency.
He woke the holoscreen and started picking his way through the security protocols. Technically, he wouldn’t have clearance. But he knew his wife well, and guessing her passwords had historically been a breeze.
The grandfather clock ticked pointedly in the hallway, pretending as though everything was just as peaceful as usual. But the hint of the seconds going past niggled in the back of Philip’s mind. He took a deep breath and entered the last protocol.
ACCESS GRANTED.
Yes! Still got it! He smiled to himself.
He ferreted through the most likely files. Anything under something inane like “Archive” was a likely candidate. He quickly found old case files mixed in with current ops. Most of them didn’t interest him. Just the usual stuff he used to deal with as an operative: politicians, unusual trading activity, statistically anomalous spikes in data or energy in core threat areas…
None of it was what he needed.
He kept rummaging, opening files methodically and eyeballing them as fast as he could.
Then he found a text file. It was labeled “Notes”. His brain honed in. The file contained a couple of strings of numbers. They looked like the right kind of length for them to be access codes for a network tap.
Gotcha!
He quickly memorized the strings. If these were what he thought they were, they would allow him to tap into whatever the live string was on the network that connected directly up to the target. He’d have to be careful. Her techs would be able to see him access it, and the action would be time stamped, too. There would be logs. Detailed logs. But it would potentially give him the last bit of proof he needed when he finally found out what she was up to.
He started to close the holoscreens down, but then something caught his eye.
He stopped.
There was a link to her internal calendar. He poked it, and it opened up on another screen. He took a quick look, two weeks back and two weeks forward, mentally checking that against what he knew of her movements. She’d been late a number of times this week. Last night, she’d said she had a department meeting. But there was nothing in the calendar. Otherwise, it was convincingly populated.
He closed his eyes, checking he’d memorized it all correctly, then closed the holo. Shutting down the terminal, he wandered back to the kitchen, gathering his thoughts.
Snack and then thinking time, he told himself.
* * *
Several hours later, the Sark had gone down.
Dinner time had come and gone.
All that remained was a dish that was ready to be relegated to the fridge for when Carol returned.
Philip sat reading in his favorite armchair in the living room when he heard the car pull up in the driveway.
There was the familiar clatter at the door and then in the hallway as Carol made her way inside.
“You’re pretty damn noisy for a spook!” her husband called playfully.
Her heels clipped across the floor and into the living space. She brought the scent of the night air in with her. “Well, it’s a good thing I wasn’t sneaking around then,” she retorted.
She appeared in the doorway, looking just as exhausted as every other day for weeks.
Philip smiled. “What’ve you been up to?”
She unceremoniously plonked her purse down on the chair by the door. “Just working late.”
“On what?”
Carol paused. “You know I can’t answer that.” She looked at him quizzically.
Philip got up, still smiling, and walked into the open-plan kitchen. “You know I know better than to just let it go.” He picked up the bottle of wine and reached for a couple of glasses, which he placed gently on the counter.
Carol approached the counter, drawn in by the idea of the alcohol hitting her system. “Yes, your tenacity is one of the reasons I married you. It’s late.” She looked around the kitchen for clues. “Have you eaten?”
“Yes, but I saved you some. How about I heat it up and pour you a glass,” he poured the wine, “and you can tell me all about your day?”
Carol eyed him suspiciously. She had been married to a spy for nearly thirty years. “Sounds good. Let me just go and get out of this atmosuit, and then we can relax.”
She wandered out, feeling his gaze on her back.
* * *
Dinner passed with very little probing. Carol wondered if maybe Philip realized that he was breaching protocol and had decided to back off.
Or maybe he just forgot that he had been suspicious? She smiled to herself as she gently drifted off to sleep in the soft bedclothes and half-light from the city beyond the bedroom window.
Philip waited until her breathing had settled to a slower rate and then made his move.
Carefully and slowly, he slipped out from between the bed covers and padded around the room. He reached her bedside table and lifted her holo from the charging pad. It lit up, but he moved it so that the light wouldn’t disturb his wife.
Slowly, he moved out into the hallway. The bathroom would normally have been a better option but too noisy. The dark quiet of the landing served him better.
He flicked straight through to the screens he needed. Flicking through the latest progress reports that had come in since she left the office.
From what he could make out, it was a Dark Net Op, or DNO. They had a whole team who handled this particular type of operation. The reports were stacked with probe responses and hypotheses. There weren’t any real interpretations of what their data was telling them, but it seemed that perhaps they were trying to figure out the owners and users of certain Estarian-based servers, under massive encryption and cyber security protocols.
Nothing unusual in itself.
He breathed, trying to slow his thinking for clarity. He wasn’t going to figure it all out tonight. But this was at least another piece of the puzzle. Maybe.
He closed the holoscreens and tapped the button to set them back to unread so they wouldn’t be deleted off the server before she could see them. That would be a red flag if there was anything in there that the rest of the team referenced later.
And this was a long game.
As quietly as he could, he padded back into the bedroom and replaced the holo. Just as he was walking around to his side of the bed, he felt her stir. Instinctively, he headed straight for the bathroom door and then closed it a little more loudly than he would have otherwise.
She muttered something.
“Sorry,” he whispered across the room to her. She rolled over, and he clambered back into bed next to her.
Chapter 2
Aboard The Scamp Princess, Hangar Deck, Gaitune-67
“Okay, another twenty minutes, and that will be all of it. Oz, you got that?”
“Yes. Downloading fine.”
“Good.” Brock leaned back on his haunches from under the console of The Scamp Princess. He started tidying his tools away.
Crash rocked gently in the navigator’s seat. “Sure there’s nothing I can do?”
Brock unplugged a connector from the console he had a device hooked into. “Not yet. Not until we’ve got any clue about where we’re going.” He winked at Crash.
Crash leaned an arm on the nearest console. “Okay. Well as soon as we do, I can get the coordinates plugged in and find out what we’ll be walking into.”
Brock continued to clean up tools and pieces of debris he’d left strewn around as he worked. “Yeah. That’s a good idea. Shit, I can’t believe that all the time we were talking about our vacay, Sean was sitting there contemplating taking off without us.”
Crash just watched Brock.
“Makes me feel guilty for having gone away,” he continued.
“Hey, we needed a break,” Crash said flatly. “And maybe if Sean took a day off once in a while, he wouldn’t be wound so tightly.”
Brock snorted at the thought of Sean heading out to Club Sark with them. “Yeah. You may have a point. You don’t think he’s actually… you know? I mean, Scamp wouldn’t leave him if he were still alive so…” He left the thought hanging in the air, wanting closure, but also not wanting to be told his friend was dead.
Crash shook his head. “Stop thinking like that. He wouldn’t be the first military tool to bite off more than he can chew. Don’t worry. We’ll find him and bring him home,” he told him decisively. “And then give him shit about running off to save damsels on his own.”
Brock sighed. “Yeah. You’re right.” He packed away the last of the tools, leaving one connector hooked up to the console. “Okay, I’m going to take this lot over to The Empress. Nothing we can do until Oz finishes that transfer.”
Crash hauled himself to his feet. “Okay. I’ll pack a bag. Want me to do one for you, too?”
Brock nodded and rested his hand on Crash’s bicep as they headed out of the cockpit. “Thanks, man.”
Crash patted him gently on the back, comforting him. “It’s all gonna be fine,” he reiterated.
The pair made their way through the passage to the side door and carefully headed down the invisible staircase to the hangar deck.
Aboard The Empress, Hangar Deck, Gaitune-67
The crew clambered on board The Empress. It was familiar territory and comforting, despite the unspoken dread that their mission may already be a failure before it had begun.
And yet, no one dared admit that Sean may already be dead.
Jack plonked herself opposite Pieter, who was more anxious than normal. She smiled at him reassuringly, without being too nice. Too friendly, and he would know that they were worried, and that would stop his brain from doing what they needed him to do.
She glanced over at Joel. Joel nodded, catching on to her tactic to keep Pieter calm.
Pieter, oblivious, threw his pack into an overhead locker and sat down. A moment later, he was up again and fussing with his pack. Jack watched without looking directly at him, smiling to herself as if she were just a fly on the wall. Detached. Collected.
Molly was the last one to board. Joel had seen her giving her instructions to Paige. He hovered, not quite deciding where he would sit. Jack was on to him. He was going to pull “Operation: Calm Molly Down.”
She stomped through the cabin with her pack and gun belt thrown over her shoulder. Her holo hadn’t been closed down, and if she had been wearing boots with laces, Joel guessed they wouldn’t have been tied, either.
She threw her pack down on a lounge chair and collapsed next to it, preventing anyone from sitting next to her.
Joel, quick as a flash, grabbed his jacket and mirrored her move by throwing his jacket down in the chair opposite her and plonking himself down across from her.
That was as close as he was going to get. Clearly.
The gentle hum of the drive started up. Crash’s normal banter was nowhere to be heard in the liftoff process. In fact, Molly found herself checking out the window to confirm they were indeed airborne and heading out of the hangar. Only Emma’s voice recited the normal announcements and safety notices.
Molly closed her eyes and allowed the process to wash over her. She tried to still her mind as Arlene had taught her in her realm-jumping training.
Her body was a mishmash of emotions. Emotions she’d rather not have to deal with right now.
She felt a nudge on her leg and reluctantly opened one eye, letting the outside world invade. Joel was looking at her pointedly. He’d nudged his knee against hers.
“What?”
“Wondering if you’re ready to talk.” He nodded at her bag on the seat in front of him. She took the hint and moved it to the one opposite her where he’d dumped his jacket. Joel deftly moved from his seat to the one next to her and buckled his harness.
“You’re taking this hard,” he said quietly.
Molly shoved her arm onto the outside armrest and stared out of the window. Her other shoulder half shrugged.
“I know you don’t want to talk about it,” Joel persisted, “but we need to. You need to.”
Molly turned her head and glared at him.
“I’m here for you,” he continued, ignoring the glare and looking straight ahead of him now. He knew how to handle Molly and her avoidance strategies. She just needed to feel safe enough to open up.
And not pushed.
He readjusted himself in his chair so that his upper arm was touching hers. He felt her defenses come down. All the hardness that she used to shield herself from her own feelings melted, and a single tear trickled down her face.
She sniffed as quietly as she could and rummaged for a tissue to catch the tears before anyone else could see.
“I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this,” she confided.
Joel’s gaze snapped to her. She continued to look down at the tissue, avoiding his eyes. “What’s changed?” he asked.
Molly shrugged. He could see the tension welling inside of her again. He didn’t want her to start crying here in front of the crew. She wouldn’t want that, and it wasn’t fair to her. But she needed to process.
He leaned in a little more. “Is this about Sean?”
“Kinda. But also everything else.” She paused and swiped away another tear. “It’s just one thing after another. It feels like it never ends. I’m exhausted.”
Joel bobbed his head and pressed his arm more against hers. She responded and leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. He glanced over at Jack and Pieter, wondering if he should put his arm around her, or whether that would arouse too much interest from the others.
He decided against it. “Hey. It’s okay. We’re going to get through this.”
“Will we?” she asked combatively. “I just can’t help thinking that if I wasn’t around, none of this would be happening.”
Joel frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Sean. He wouldn’t have needed to go off on his own. He’d still be with the Federation and have their backup.”
Joel’s brow furrowed deeper, confused at what she was saying.
Molly continued. “You can’t ignore the fact that his relationship with them has become strained because of his relationship with us.”
Joel hesitated, processing what she was saying. “Well, there may be some truth to that, but that’s not going to get him killed. And it’s certainly not your fault. What’s really going on?”
Molly pursed her lips. “Sean came to see me before he disappeared.”
“About his mission?”
“No. About me.”
“What do you mean?”
“He thinks I have some ability to push my will onto people. Another side effect. He was going to report it to Lance, and I asked him not to.”
“And now he’s gone, and you’re feeling guilty.”
Molly sniffed, finally finding the strength to bring her gaze up to meet Joel’s. “And wondering if somehow I also influenced him to disappear…”
Joel put his arm around her. “That’s just crazy talk. I mean, even if you could push your will onto other people, you would never want him dead. You’re just not wired that way.”
“But what if it was a component of his decision making?”
Joel shook his head. “No way,” he told her firmly. “This thought process is a pattern you run. You look for ways to make things your fault. Or your responsibility.”
Molly allowed herself to sink against his body, allowing his arm around her to stay. “How do you figure that?” she mumbled.
“Look at all the things that have happened: the way you want to change every injustice on Estaria. The way you relate to each team member personally, helping them to find their groove. No way you could even accidentally do what you’re suggesting.”
Molly pulled away and tried to look at Joel. “You think I’m doing things wrong?”
“No,” he corrected her. “I think there is a reason that you’re wired this way, and if we understood it better, you wouldn’t need to feel so damn guilty all the time. So, what is it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, what happened in your childhood? What is this really about?”
Molly thought for a long while, even though her mind had jumped immediately to what the issue was that Joel was trying to get out of her.
Eventually she spoke, sitting up a little. Joel removed his arm.
“I was about twelve. I’d been hacking into my parent’s EI to find out stuff. Actually, stuff about The Empress. Rumors. History. Missions. There wasn’t much, but I used the EI because it had greater reach, beyond just the local Estarian network.”
Joel nodded.
“Well,” she continued, “my parents had told me it was off limits. Turns out, they had been using it for the business and had taken it offline because they were attracting heat from certain criminal elements in their line of work.”
“And you got it back online?”
She nodded, fiddling with her tissue. “Yeah. I must have triggered some flags or something because one night, I heard something in the house. And shouting. I went downstairs and there were men in the house—in full combat gear. With guns.”
“Who were they?”
Molly shook her head. “I dunno. Dark ops. Mercenaries. We never found out. But they took my parents. At gun point.”
“Philip and Carol?”
She nodded again.
“But they’re still alive,” Joel reminded her, trying to understand what had happened.
“Yeah,” she agreed. “No thanks to me. They managed to escape somehow. Goodness knows how. They said something about having some help. They were gone for about a day. It was the worst day of my life. The police kept asking me questions about what happened, and their work, and their business. I didn’t know anything, but they treated me like a criminal. Like I knew what was happening.
“After they came back, the police had very few questions, and everything just seemed to go back to normal again. They wrapped up that business a few years later when Dad retired and Mom got some kind of government job. And we never really talked about it again. They just said it wasn’t my fault and that they were fine, so it didn’t matter.”
Joel frowned.
“But it was my fault,” she insisted. “If I hadn’t been poking around with that EI, none of it would have happened.”
Her voice started to break. Joel put his arm around her again as she sobbed quietly.
“Look,” he whispered. “I know it feels like it’s your fault, but things happen. Maybe the EI wasn’t the trigger. Maybe it was. They should have told you why the EI was offline. And besides, they’re still alive and doing fine. Something tells me that whatever they went through, it can’t have been that bad.”
Molly’s face was hidden from him. He felt his T-shirt getting wet from her tears. He held her tighter and continued to whisper in her ear. “It wasn’t your fault. You were a kid. You didn't have all the information… and you don’t know what other good things that served.”
Her muffled voice spoke into his T-shirt. “I don’t understand…”
“Well, think about it. Maybe it was the shock your folks needed to get out of that business they were in. Sometimes these things demand too much of us, either in terms of risks we need to take or in terms of working too hard. Sounds like your folks were already taking risks, for those kinds of people to show up at the house.”
Molly’s sobbing subsided, and she became still.
“Also,” Joel continued, “imagine if they’d continued, and your dad didn’t retire. Maybe he would have ended up working too hard and giving himself a heart attack or something. Maybe your mum would have had problems if she hadn’t taken a more low-pressure job in the government.”
Molly nodded her head, still up against Joel’s T-shirt.
He squeezed her reassuringly under his arm. “Sounds like that was a well-timed warning shot to me. And they don’t seem too traumatized by any of it.”
She sat up. “No. You’re right. They were fine afterward. But that was the unnerving thing. Everything went back to business as usual.”
Joel’s eyes flickered with some kind of recognition.
“What?” Molly pressed.
Joel took a deep breath, thinking. “Well, I wonder… have you talked to them about it since? You know, now that you’re grown up and all?”
Molly shook her head. “I’ve barely spoken to them at all since I escaped to university early.”
Joel pursed his lips. “Well, our perceptions as kids are super different from the reality of what happened. Sometimes, we misinterpret things, or we misunderstand. We try and make sense of it from the schemas that we’re operating from at the time, but as we get older, we have more understanding of the world. You know, you’re a lot older now. And you’ve seen a huge amount. You’ve got all your life and military experience. You think maybe if you talked to them about it now, you might understand it better?”
Molly sat herself up again, drying her eyes. “Yeah, probably,” she admitted.
Joel smiled. “Of course, it would mean braving your parents again. But it would probably be worth it.” He paused. “I’d come with you if that would help?”
Molly hesitated.
“No pressure,” he added. “I’m here for you, though.”
She bobbed her head then lunged forward to her bag on the other seat, rummaging for another tissue as a distraction. “Yeah, maybe. When we get Sean back…”
Joel put a hand on her back and rubbed it soothingly. “Okay, when we’ve got Sean back,” he agreed.
He checked over his shoulder, briefly catching Jack’s eye. Jack looked away quickly, respectful of their semi-privacy. Pieter looked like he had his implant feeding him sound and was off in his own little world.
Joel kicked back his seat and pretended to relax. He knew it was good for Molly for him to just hang nearby. Even if she didn’t understand that herself right now.
Aboard The Empress
Joel, Jack, and Pieter sat quietly, spread out through the main cabin of The Empress. Pieter had several holoscreens open and seemed to be continuing the work he had started as soon as they had access to Scamp’s data.
Molly gazed out of the window, her thoughts dancing from sensations of anxiety, to sadness, to determination, and back again.
“Molly?” Crash interrupted her thoughts through her audio implant.
Molly hit her audio device. “’Sup?”
“We’ve got a call coming in via the ship’s quiet link. It’s Giles, calling from The Scamp Princess.”
“Okay, patch him through.” She sat up in her seat and took a deep breath.
“Hi, Molly.” Giles’s voice announced himself in her ear. He sounded uncomfortable.
“Giles, hi. Everything okay?”
“Well, yes. Although not really. I heard about Sean, of course.”
Molly leaned her head backwards against her headrest, her gaze flicking to the ceiling. “Yes, we’re on our way to his last known location now.”
“Good. Oz told you I offered my services?”
Molly assumed that was a question, even though his intonation suggested otherwise. “He did. Thank you.”
“Okay. Well, erm, the other thing is, we’ve had a lead on the talisman thing. So, erm… if you’ve cleared Scamp for duty, would you mind if Arlene and I went and chased this lead down?”
Molly processed the request for a moment. Her mind scrambled for any reasons for or against. Anything that wasn’t insurmountable. Then she hit one.
“What about the part where I needed you at the university to make sure everything is handled there?”
“Oh… erm. Right. Of course.”
There was a silence on the line. Molly felt Joel looking over at her but chose to remain focused on one conversation at a time. She knew he’d only interject in favor of Giles.
She spoke again. “How long do you think it will take?”
“Well, you know how these things are…”
“I have an idea,” she said.
“What if I promise to be back before the semester starts up again?”
“Yes, that would be fine. But stay in touch with Paige, and make sure that she can make any decisions that need making for the school.”
“Right you are. Thanks Molly. And… good luck.”
“You too, Giles. Good hunting.”
She could hear him breathing on the line for a second or two longer. She wondered if he might have something else to say. And then the line went dead. She turned her head and gazed out the window, watching the stars shift around them. She didn’t have the brain power to allocate any to Professor Kurns right now. She needed to stay laser focused on finding Sean.
Chapter 3
Bates residence
Philip sat peacefully on the patio, reading a spy thriller.
Wrong, wrong, wrong, he tutted, swiping to the next page on his holo.
Just then, his wrist buzzed, alerting him to an incoming call. He accepted it, seeing who it was. “Hi, Tray, how are you?” he asked brightly.
“Hi, Philip. Good. All good. It’s a work call.”
“Okay, go ahead,” Philip responded in a more muted tone.
“Well, you asked for me to give you a heads up if there was anything unusual going on around the Royale asset?”
“Yes. You got something?”
“Yeah, seems he’s gone off grid,” Tray said.
“On a mission?”
“Probably. Knowing him.”
“Anything happening with the Federation?” Philip asked.
“That’s above my clearance.”
“Ah, yes. Of course. But if you hear anything…”
“You’ll be the first to know.”
“Okay thanks, Tray.”
“No problem,” Tray responded. “See you on the course next week.”
“Yes, see you then,” Philip said brightly again. He closed the holo call and sat in silence for a few seconds before pulling up a new screen.
He typed the command.
>> Connect FED.
>> Return.
A new screen appeared. This one was slightly red in tone and had nothing but a black screen and a flashing cursor.
He typed the following:
>> ArchAngel://Agent 5673#delta. Suspected 978 infringement.
>> Is Royale on a dark op for you folks?
He waited, watching the flashing cursor. He hated this bit. He rarely used the interface for obvious reasons, but every time he had reason to, it had been because there was an imminent threat to planetary security, and ArchAngel was a known ally who would occasionally intervene.
This wasn’t exactly a planetary matter. Although, if his suspicions were right, it would certainly be something the Federation would want to be involved in.
He hated the waiting, though.
He tried to relax and enjoy the fresh air and the sun starting to go down, but his eyes were compulsively drawn back to the red-hued screen and the damn flashing cursor.
He sighed, watching the flashing.
Finally, something happened.
>>> What is the nature of the infringement?
Philip considered how he might type the explanation and then resigned himself to the reality that to speak it would be more efficient.
>> Can we speak?
A link appeared. Philip clicked it and felt his audio implant connect into the new protocol.
“Hello?” he asked quietly.
“Hello, Philip. What is the nature of the infringement?”
“Well, it’s not exactly that. But it is rather sensitive.”
“How so?” ArchAngel’s computer-generated voice spoke into his audio implant.
“Well, it’s my wife. She’s been tracking Molly, I think, and I wanted to know why. And we saw that Royale was in cahoots with her, so I had a buddy of mine let me know if anything strange happened around Royale, rather than trying to interfere. Anyway, he’s just let me know that Sean went dark last week. No one’s seen or heard from him since. I wondered if you had him on a mission.”
There was a slight pause before ArchAngel responded. “No, we don’t. Let me try and find him.”
There was a longer pause before ArchAngel spoke again. “I can’t get a read on him. Turns out the team he was posted with hasn’t seen him. They’re on a mission to find him right now.”
“You mean Molly’s team?”
“That’s correct.”
“What can you tell me?” Philip’s voice cracked with anxiety, wondering if his actions had put Molly in danger.
“They’re retracing his steps. I’ve pulled news footage from the area. Processing now.” Another pause. “Okay. We have a hit. Sean seems to have been kidnapped from a trading outpost. Along with a girl.”
“Molly?”
“No, Molly is with her team on The Empress.”
“Is she in danger?”
“She does a dangerous job. But imminently? Not that we know of. Hang on.”
The line cracked and then went quiet, as if there was a low white-noise feed being broadcast.
ArchAngel returned to the call. “It seems your wife has been probing the servers that Molly and her team use. Lance has requested you and Mrs. Bates come up here for a conversation.”
Philip stood up in excitement. “I knew she was up to something!”
“She has indeed been very busy it seems. Can you get her up here?”
“I can do my best. Will you send coordinates? We only have standard space cars with the agency.”
“We’ll come into the system then. I’ll send coordinates when we get there.”
“Okay, great. How long do you think?”
“Twelve hours max. Probably less. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Great. I’ll need time to coordinate persuading Carol.”
“I understand. I hear she has some personal problems with the general.”
“Yes. Something like that. Don’t worry. I can make it happen. I’ll stand by for your ETA and coordinates.”
“Very good. ArchAngel out.”
And with that, the line disconnected, and the red holoscreen folded itself up back into Philip’s holo. He sat back down, contemplating how on Esataria he was going to pull this off.
Aboard The Empress
Molly’s thoughts tripped idly around her mind as she used the downtime to rest. Her brain felt frazzled from the emotional pressure of the last several days, and though she was always in stressful situations, this was certainly different.
On so many levels.
Oz ventured to talk to her again, now that everything seemed to be under control.
You doing okay?
Yeah. What’s up?
Well, since your endorphins and cortisol levels seemed to have returned to normal, I wondered if we might talk about these potential cyber attacks.
What?
Remember? The probes I’ve been detecting and fending off my most used hubs down on Estaria.
Oh. Shit. Yeah, sorry Oz. It completely went from my mind since Sean disappeared.
It’s okay. I understand not everyone has super-enhanced capacity courtesy of the Federation.
Molly smiled to herself. She glanced over at Joel to see if he was reacting to her, but his eyes were closed and his chair tipped back.
So, where are we with it?
Well, I just got another alert that another server was being probed. Not hacked. Just that someone is probably monitoring the in and outflow of packets from it.
What can that tell them?
Not much. Other than there is data flowing. If they’re able to track the data, that may become an issue. But I’m taking precautions, and since we’re going to be out of range anyway, it’s not going to be an issue until we get back.
But it’s good for us to consider it now?
Yes.
So, who would want to track the data and not interpret it?
I’ve yet to ascertain that. Judging by the methods they’re using, it doesn’t look like it’s any run of the mill type of hackers. I’m ruling out corporates, lone rangers, and kids. It’s far too subtle for that.
So, who does that leave?
Maybe foreign intelligence. But you’d think they’d be a bit more brazen in trying to get whatever they’re after. The only other party that we’re aware of who might have these kinds of capabilities would be Estarian local intelligence.
You mean Estarian domestic spies?
Exactly.
Molly’s brow creased up. That’s… odd.
Yeah. But it’s not as if we haven’t been causing a stir in their systems, the medical companies, their financial systems. Plus, they could easily have seen our influence on those subsidiaries that you took control of. That’s not including the university.
So, you’re saying that whoever is paying attention will likely be aware of all of these different projects?
Unfortunately, yes. They’ve shown up at about twenty percent of the servers and hubs that I’ve used for moving or extracting data. Despite my attempts to silo our operations, they’re either monitoring the whole Estarian network or…
Or?
They have a beat on my fingerprint. The syntax of the code that I use.
How can they do that?
It’s not hard once you’ve got a big enough sample. It would be like taking a big ass sample of Hemingway and being able to compare it to Dickens and Dostoyevsky. There are tells. Isolate the tells, and then it’s easy to scan for those combinations.
Shit. Can you try and hide it? Like modulate your style?
I could. Maybe. But it will take me maybe ten times longer to process anything out there.
Well, maybe we need to do that just to be careful. Remind me to have us circle back to this when we get back to base.
Okay.
Molly sat mulling the issue for some time. Joel stirred next to her. He stretched and then brought his chair upright.
“You okay?” he asked.
Molly blurted out the exact thought that was on her mind. “Why would covert ops on Estaria care about what we’re doing?”
“What do you mean? What’s going on?”
“Oz and I were talking about the strange probing that has been going on around his hubs planet-side. They stopped for a while, but then he just got an alert again.”
Joel rubbed his eyes, thinking. “You don’t think it could just be routine?”
Molly shook her head. “Doesn’t feel like it. Plus, it doesn’t account for how we’ve had twenty percent of our hubs looked at.”
“So, we’re being targeted?”
“Yeah. Oz thinks the only folks with the tech to do what they’re doing are local clandestine services.”
Joel shifted in his seat. “Odd. You think someone is still after you?”
Molly shrugged. “Everyone that was a threat thinks that I’m dead.”
Joel nodded. “Yeah. Everyone on Estaria. Except anyone associated with the university.”
Molly stopped. “Good point… and good luck controlling that can of worms. But we’ve taken precautions there, and both Oz and ArchAngel are keeping an eye on factions that might want to attack. They just don’t have this kind of access to tech, though. The only other people would be my parents. But the tech thing holds there too, of course.”
Joel chuckled. “True. Though I don’t see them wanting to probe your missions. I mean, it’s not like they work for the military or anything, right?”
“Well, no, of course not.” Molly sighed. “I mean, they wouldn’t know what a mission was, but…”
Joel detected an unease in her tone. “What is it?”
“Well, you don’t know my mom. If she wants to know what I’m up to, she’d go to extraordinary lengths.”
“Yeah, but she doesn’t have these kinds of capabilities.”
“True.” Molly smiled. “Yeah. No, of course not. That would be silly.”
Joel chuckled. “I’m sure you’re just worrying about nothing. And Oz is going to be able to block these advances, right?”
Molly nodded definitely. “Yeah. Already done.”
“Okay. So nothing to worry about.” Joel settled back into his chair and closed his eyes again. “I’m sure whoever it is will lose interest. And if they don’t, we’ll find them when we get back.”
“Yeah. Okay.” Molly looked out of the window again. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”
Aboard The Empress
Several hours had passed since the team had departed Gaitune. They’d been navigating their way from one waypoint coordinate to another, retracing Scamp’s steps for any kind of clue.
So far nothing had turned up to leave them any wiser.
Crash brought The Empress to a halt at another set of coordinates and then dropped his hands from the controls. He turned his head to look at Pieter.
Pieter felt his frustration and put one finger up. “Okay. Gimme a minute here. I’m working as fast as I can.”
Brock noticed Crash’s impatience. Although he didn’t protest or complain, Brock could tell he was getting tired of having to pull up every so often.
Brock tried to get his attention, but Crash’s gaze remained on the hardworking Pieter and his multiple holoscreens he’d set up in an array over one of the rear consoles. Finally, he resigned himself to speaking. “Dude. Can I get you a mocha or something while we wait?”
Crash didn’t move. “No thanks.”
“Well… why don’t you have a walk? Stretch your legs?”
Crash sighed, looked out at the starscape on the main screen, then heaved himself up. “Fine,” he agreed. He wandered out of the cockpit, glancing at the holoscreens as he wandered past Pieter.
“You’re doing great,” Brock whispered to Pieter. “He just gets grouchy when he’s tired and not making progress.”
Pieter glanced up briefly and smiled before continuing what he was doing on the screens. He looked like he was working under pressure. Brock sat back in his own chair, leaving him to get on with it.
Just then, a quiet alert activated on his console. Emma’s voice chirped up. “Brock, it’s Giles again. He’s calling from The Scamp Princess, in flight on a course to the Ferrai Quadrant.”
“Ferrai Quadrant? That guy gets around. Okay, cool. Put him through.” Brock waited to hear the line shift before he spoke. “Hey, Giles?”
“Hi. Brock, right?”
“Yeah. How you doing?”
“All good, thanks. How are you?”
“Doing all right. You wanna speak to Molly again?”
Giles’s voice faltered. “Erm, yeah—No. Not necessary. If you don’t mind passing on a message that is…”
Brock and Pieter exchanged a brief glance before Brock responded. “Sure. No problem. Shoot.” Brock leaned forward, his elbows on the arms of the chair, listening intently.
“It’s Anne,” Giles explained. “I thought Molly should know. She snuck aboard The Scamp Princess and is now on the mission with us.”
Brock burst out laughing. “You’re kidding? You’ve got a stowaway?” he confirmed.
“I wish I were kidding.”
“Oh man. Shit. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
“So, how the fuck did this happen?” Brock asked.
They heard Giles sigh heavily on the other end of the line. “Well, it seems—and Emma may be able to help with this—but from what Paige could figure out, our little Estarian friend is actually capable of fuzzing out her own image on cameras and electronic feeds.”
“No shit!”
“I shit you not.”
“Fuck,” Brock said. “So, this is going to be an issue.”
“Potentially. I recommended putting a bell around her neck. Arlene didn’t go for it, but I think after a few days, she may come around to the suggestion.”
“Wow. Okay. I’ll let Molly know. Obviously, nothing we can do about it yet, but…”
“Of course,” Giles said. “We’ll keep her safe and bring her home soon.”
“Cool. Thanks for letting us know, Giles. All the best juju with your mission!”
“Thanks, Brock,” Giles responded. “You too.”
The line disconnected. Pieter looked up from his screens. “What was that?”
“Giles.” Brock chuckled. “Apparently, Anne slipped out on The Scamp Princess with him.” Brock shook his head. “That girl… I gotta go tell Mollz.”
Pieter’s eyes were back on his screens. “Aight,” he muttered absently.
Brock wandered into the lounge. The atmosphere was still pretty tense and quiet as a library. Jack was napping. Joel was playing video games on his wrist holo.
Molly was sitting near the front, looking out of the window.
He approached her gently, as if approaching a wild horse that might bolt at a sudden movement.
“Hey,” he said quietly.
Molly’s head turned, and her eyes locked on to his. “Hey, Brock. How’s it going?”
“It’s going good. Pieter’s doing a great job up there. We’re making progress.”
“Good.” She forced a smile.
“I’ve just taken a call from Giles, though,” he added, his face a little more serious. He felt Molly’s defenses go up as she braced herself.
“What did he say?”
Joel wandered over to hear the conversation. He stopped a row of seats back and leaned his arms over on the back of one as he listened. Brock glanced at him before he continued. “Everything is okay. It turns out that Anne was missing, but she’s shown up on Giles’s ship.”
Molly took a second to react. “You’re kidding?”
Brock pressed his lips together and shook his head once. “That was what I said.”
Joel scoffed. “Son of a—” His shock turned to half a laugh, which turned to a cough.
Brock bobbed his head, trying to keep his face straight.
“How?” Molly asked.
Brock took a breath to compose himself and then slowly exhaled. “It sounds like we have a bigger security issue, to be honest.”
Molly cocked her head questioningly.
“Seems our teenager with woo woo superpowers is able to fuzz out her image on the base cameras.”
Joel was still chuckling and coping with his shock. “You know, I bet if she can get past those, she can probably get past any cameras.”
Molly bobbed her head. “I’m thinking keeping tabs on her is going to be much harder than we first thought.” She glanced at Joel. “Kinda like bottling lightning.”
Joel raised his eyebrows. “I’d say.”
Molly frowned and looked back to Brock. “Okay, well, we’ll have to figure out a way around this, or a way to make her stay put and keep her safe—”
“And we need to figure out who is after her,” Joel interjected.
“Right,” Molly agreed quickly. “But in the meantime, if Giles is keeping an eye on her, then we can only hope for the best.”
“Right, cool,” Brock agreed, starting to leave. “He said he would. And if he can, of course, he will. I’ll have a chat with Emma and see what we can do about modifying the cameras or something.” He shook his head, his eyes betraying his amazement. “I still can’t believe it.”
Molly shook her head in sympathy. “I know, right? Kids!”
Joel chuckled and patted Molly on her shoulder as he also turned to go. “I hear it’s different when they’re your own, though.”
“Ha!” Molly snorted. “You can’t just hand them back when they’re your own. I have trouble remembering to feed a cat, remember?”
Brock chuckled as he disappeared out of the door. Joel headed back to his seat, leaving Molly still shaking her head.
Shit.
What’s up, Oz?
That’s my fault. I should have been on to her.
There’s no way—
How I could have known? Yes, there was. I totally should have known. And from the sounds of it, Paige figured it out. How did Paige figure it out, and I didn’t catch it?
Hey, listen to me. You were working on the task at hand: finding Sean. There was no way any of us could have predicted what Anne would be capable of. Or what she might do. Remember, we barely know her yet.
Well, I’ve obviously been compiling my own heuristic of her.
And how’s that going?
Well, no clear guidelines. Nothing of any significance anyway. She barely talks to anyone. She doesn’t reveal things about herself. She spends a lot of time out of the way of the cameras in her room. There are a few data points but no patterns to tell us anything.
Yeah. I think when we get back, we need to put some effort into correcting that.
Okay. I’ll make it my priority.
Oz. Stop. You’re fretting. She’s safe right now. With Giles. You didn’t screw up.
Well, why do I feel like I did?
Erm, maybe because you’re a perfectionist?
I’m not. That’s a wholly human quality.
Oh, and feelings aren’t? Tendencies aren’t? Humor isn’t?
Okay. Touché.
Good. Now stop beating yourself up and get back to helping Pieter figure out where we need to be and whose ass we need to kick!
Yes, ma’am.
Molly sniggered quietly and leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She could always count on her team and best friend to make her feel better, no matter what was going on.
Chapter 4
Paige’s office, safe house, Gaitune-67
The office was relatively quiet. Since the debacle with Anne stealing away, it was just Paige and Maya on the base now.
And Bourne.
But Bourne didn’t really count, Paige mused to herself in the silence. He mostly kept to himself, churning away on the redundant processing power that sat within the confines of the base firewall.
It was a good opportunity to catch up on some work. Paige had hunkered down in her office, mocha machine keeping her adequately caffeinated to deal with the load.
She looked at the time. She hadn’t moved for two hours and hadn’t been outside or in any kind of simulated daylight since she got up. Then, she realized she hadn’t showered since yesterday, either.
She pushed back in her chair, sighing. She still had a heap of stuff to do. But she needed a break.
Just then, her desk holo pinged. It was a comm from an address she didn’t recognize. It looked official. She scooted her chair closer to the holoscreen to read it. It was about the university.
Her decision to take a break forgotten, she poked her finger into the hologram and opened the message. Her tired eyes darted left and right, assimilating the information.
Her stomach lurched.
She sat back, her mind reeling from the information. She should call Molly.
But Molly was probably out of range now.
ADAM.
Nope. ADAM was out of range.
ArchAngel? Well, she is obviously the next best thing, but she wasn’t interested in university problems.
Her mind flicked to Gareth. He’d warned her months ago that something like this might be coming. She’d dismissed it. And him. Things hadn’t ended well, and his warning had only served to show her how much she didn’t trust him.
She wiped her face with her hands.
If in doubt, do nothing, she told herself.
She’d go shower. And then talk to Maya about it. It wasn’t within Maya’s official remit to get involved in university stuff, but still, she was a good friend. And had a good head on her shoulders. They’d figure it out together.
She scooted her chair back again and hit save on the message so she could find it easily from her wrist holo later. Then she got up and left the office, flicking the mocha machine off as she went.
Aboard The Empress
Brock arrived back in the cockpit to find Crash perched on the navigation console, his eyes glazed over and looking at the floor.
“You’ll never guess what’s happened,” Brock announced as he strode in and collapsed into his console chair. “Woo woo voodoo teenager strikes again!”
Crash looked up. “Who? Anne?”
“Yeah.”
“Why? What’s she done now?”
“Oh, you know,” Brock explained mock-casually, “only gone and bypassed the entire base technology and snuck away on The Scamp Princess with Giles.”
“No way!” Crash exclaimed, his expression verging on surprised.
“Way.”
“Oh, man. That’s… intense. How did Oz take it?”
Brock shrugged. “Dunno. I only spoke to Molly.”
Pieter looked up. “From what I can tell, he’s not taking it well. His processing has slowed down by fifty percent since you headed out there to tell her.”
Crash sniggered. “Well, well, well. AIs suffer from pride.”
Brock grinned. “Appears so. But seriously, this could be a problem. If she’s deliberately doing it to hide herself, that’s one thing. I mean, we don’t think she wants to screw us over. But what about if she’s doing it accidentally, and it leaves us vulnerable?”
Crash had folded his arms and was stroking his chin with his fingers on one hand. “You have a point. And to take this one step further, what else is she compromising?”
Brock sighed and swiveled a console chair around to sit on. “Who knows? I mean, one problem at a time, but when we get back, we’re going to have our hands full trying to woo woo-proof the base.”
Crash closed his eyes. “Crap. You’re right.”
Brock spun round and started punching keys in the holos at the console. “I’m gonna see if Emma and I can get a jump on anything that might help while you guys are finding out where we need to be.” He spun back to address Pieter. “Lemme know if you need me on anything else, though. I’m right here, yeah?”
Pieter stopped typing to respond. “Sure thing. Thanks, man.”
“Any time, broooooooo…” he called, turning his music on via his holo for his audio implant.
Crash sighed and slumped down in his pilot’s chair, wishing he could just fly.
Paige’s quarters, Safehouse, Gaitune-67
Paige stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in the self-drying towel. Then she grabbed a second one and wrapped her hair in it.
She padded out to the bedroom and set about moisturizing and dressing.
“Paige?” It was a computerized voice over the comm system.
Paige froze, confused. Oz was away. And it didn’t seem like Oz. A second later, she realized it was Bourne.
“Bourne. Hi. What’s up?” She clutched her towel around her tighter.
“I was checking incoming messages and noticed you weren’t at your desk to receive yours at the moment.”
“Yes…” she said slowly, still bamboozled why Bourne was monitoring messages or needed to tell her about it.
“Well, there was one that seemed out of place. So, I figured it might be important. It’s about your company.”
“Oh, is that right?”
“Seems someone wants to buy it.”
Paige paused again, deodorant only under one arm. “I see.”
“Do you want me to send it through to your holo?”
“Yes, please.” She finished putting her deodorant on and hurriedly pulled on her underwear and sweats.
“Bourne?” she asked, feeling a little less vulnerable now she was dressed.
“Yes, Paige?”
“How come you’re monitoring messages?”
“I was bored with the archives. I wanted a break. And it seemed like a sensible thing to do since you guys aren’t monitoring anything at the moment. Good job, too. Else you would have experienced a time lag in your communications about this important message.”
Paige raised an eyebrow comically. She didn’t know whether to chuckle or be annoyed at him. “Okay. Thanks so much, Bourne. But you really don’t need to worry about monitoring our communications. Most of it isn’t time sensitive, and we have protocols in place for when it is.”
“Oh, okay then,” he responded flatly.
The intercom went quiet. Paige sensed she was alone again. For the first time in her years in the safe house, she was glad there weren’t cameras in the quarters. That would have just been… creepy.
She headed back into the bathroom where she had left her wrist holo on the vanity counter. She strapped it back on and opened her messages. Bourne was right. There was a new one. From another sender she didn’t recognize.
Her heart started racing. She prodded the message in the hologram and opened it up. Again, she scanned it. This time, instead of a sinking feeling, she felt anxious and perhaps a little excited.
Her eyes scanned down.
“Fuck me,” she muttered to herself. “That is a lot of zeros.” She whistled out through her teeth. “Pheeeew!”
Her brain stopped processing properly. She knew she needed to dry her hair and style it, plus a host of other things in her routine, but all she could think about was talking to Maya.
She hit her implant. “Maya? Are you there?”
A moment later, Maya responded. “Yeah, what’s up?”
“Someone has just offered me a truckload of money to buy my company. I need a yoll-arita and some girl time.”
“Sounds good to me. I’m just finishing up at the gym. Gimme twenty minutes to get showered, and I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
“Okay, you’re on!” Paige tapped her implant and the call disconnected. She carefully sat back down on the bed, allowing the new reality to sink in.
Bates Residence, Spire, Estaria
The Sark had gone down hours ago. All being well, Philip’s wife would be home shortly. She’d messaged him as she was leaving the office. Accounting for traffic, he knew it would be less than three minutes. Plenty of time to make the call.
“Yes, she’s here. No problem. You can give the boys a night off. I’m taking her on a trip off-world, so she won’t need protection. Great. Thanks, Jack. You have a good night, too.”
Philip hung up the call on the secure holo console in the living room.
That took care of the security detail. Now, he just needed to make sure that everything else went smoothly.
He waited in the living room patiently. He’d done this a million times before, albeit never to his wife.
The front door opened. He heard her high heels click against the polished floorboards in the hallway. He heard her place her things down on the floor. Her heard her take her atmos jacket off and then pick up her things and head into the—
“Hello, dear.” He smiled congenially.
“Hello, Philip. How was your day?” She looked frazzled. This might screw up his plan.
“Oh, can’t complain,” he said brightly. “Fancy heading out for dinner tonight?”
She cocked her head and smiled. “Err, yeah. Sure. That would be… lovely.”
“Good.” Philip grinned, getting up. “How about we leave in say, ten minutes?”
“Okay, fine. Let me just head upstairs for a few.”
“Okay, dear, no need to change,” he added. “We’ll go somewhere fairly casual, if that suits you?”
“Yes, fine,” she said, her mood clearly lifted by the prospect of a break from the old routine. She trotted up the stairs, leaving her shoes at the bottom so she could move more easily.
Philip hummed to himself, monitoring his own heartbeat in his chest. He was indeed nervous. The chances of getting this wrong were always high. Which, of course, meant that things had the potential to get messy. Which was the last thing he wanted in his own home. But then… orders were orders.
He continued to hum as he prepared the things he needed. He ambled over to the kitchen and opened up the main drawer, pulling out some cable ties. He very deliberately placed them down on the counter, next to the plant so it wasn’t obvious they were there. Then he moved to another drawer by the oven and pulled out the auto-syringe that he’d prepared earlier that afternoon. All he needed was to get it onto a vein, and the machine would do the rest.
He placed it into his pants pocket and then ambled back to the living room. He heard her moving around upstairs. After a few moments, she seemed to be coming back down. He waited for her to nearly reach the bottom before he started moving back toward the hallway door. She was hurrying, putting in earrings and then rummaging in her bag at the bottom of the stairs.
“I can’t find my lipstick,” she muttered.
“Take your time, dear,” he cooed, leaning against the doorframe, watching her carefully like a cat watched a canary in a cage. Cool. Confident. He waited, as if just waiting for the perfect note in the music, fully aware of when it was going to come.
Carol moved from the bag and started heading toward him and into the open-plan living area. As she walked past him, in one swift movement, he put his arm out to stop her moving and with the other, jabbed the syringe to her neck.
For a second, she called out as if pleasantly surprised by his advance. Her face quickly turned to one of horror as she felt the jabbing pain in her neck. She turned, looking at him with utter betrayal, unable to move or do anything about what had just happened.
And then she slumped in his arms. He caught her and laid her down gently. Then he reached for the cable ties and started binding her wrists and ankles.
Kitchen, Safehouse, Gaitune-67
Maya was already in the kitchen by the time Paige emerged from her rushed beauty routine. Maya hadn’t bothered to dry her hair. Being full-blood Estarian, she didn’t have the problems Paige had with it going frizzy if she didn’t dry it after a shower.
“Yoll-aritas are up in three minutes. I’ve got some snacks in the oven.”
Paige grinned. “You’re an ascended one, you are!”
Maya turned over her shoulder. “I know. I just need to put in a petition with the Ancestors to recognize that!”
Paige chuckled and sat down at the table, still cooling off from the shower. “You know, it’s kinda neat to remember my Estarian roots.”
Maya continued to pour ingredients into the cocktail shaker. “You feel like it’s all a bit too human up here?”
“Sometimes.”
Maya giggled. “And this coming from the half-human. You’ve got to appreciate the irony of that!” She turned over her shoulder again and winked at Paige before grabbing some glasses and pouring their yoll-aritas. She plonked the full glasses on the table, glanced at the oven timer, and then sat down.
Paige took one of the glasses and Maya the other. Paige grinned. “To some decent girl time!”
Maya smiled. “I’ll drink to that!” They clinked their glasses and took a sip, savoring the moment like a sacred ceremonial act. Then, quietly, they both replaced their glasses on the table and paused.
“On my ancestors,” Maya started excitedly, “what’s this about selling your company?”
Paige’s eyes lit up, and the girls started talking animatedly. “You won’t believe it. It’s just come from out of the blue. Some holding company has approached me and wants to buy the whole organization. For cash!”
“My word! Who has that much cash?” Maya took another sip of her drink.
Paige shrugged, pulling up her holo to show Maya the message. “Says it’s from Info Corp. I’ve not done a search yet to find out who they are. I’m just in a daze from it all.”
Maya scanned the holoscreen Paige had pushed over to her. She shook her head in amazement. “Who’d have thought, eh? I mean, wow!”
“Right?”
Maya sighed and sat back in her chair. “What are you going to do?”
“No idea. I can’t think straight at the moment. Plus, there are so many questions I have before I can even begin to make a decision about this.”
Maya nodded quietly, allowing Paige the space to talk it out.
“I mean,” Paige continued, “we always knew the day would come where I would have to make a big decision like this. And the bigger the company got, the more likely it was that I was going to have to choose between the mission and the company.” She bobbed her head to one side and continued to play with the stem of her glass. “Then there’s the added pressure of the university.”
Maya took another slurp of her drink. “There’s no doubt you’ve been juggling a lot.”
Paige stuck her bottom lip out. “This is true. Although in terms of actual stuff that I have to do, the teams handle that. I mostly just have to make decisions. That’s all.”
“Head space, though,” Maya pointed out.
“True.”
The girls sat in silence for a moment, contemplating all the variables.
“You know,” Maya piped up, “I wonder who this company is.” She pulled up her holo and ran a basic search.
Paige’s eyes had already glazed over.
“Info Corp, here we go,” Maya read off. “Looks like they’re the same holding company that bought up Newstainment a few months ago.”
Paige’s face registered a flicker of recognition. “So, why would they be interested in my company?”
Maya pressed her lips together as she opened a couple more holoscreens. “You know, I’m not entirely sure. It looks like these other companies are all in the media and communications sector.”
Paige regarded Maya over her glass as she drank to quiet her confusion. “You think they’re after my customer list?”
Maya sighed. “Maybe. I mean, it’s a big-ass customer database. Plus, factor in all the big data your marketing department has collected: all segmented, tagged, and pulling like gang busters.”
“How would they know that’s what we were doing?”
Maya shrugged. “Having a drink with one of your team down on Estaria would reveal that kind of thing in half an hour.”
Paige nodded, her mind churning. “I guess they would see from the accounts the profit and then be able to work back to the amount of profit we’re generating per data point.”
Maya sighed. “Quite easily, I would think. I mean, don’t get me wrong. It’s an amazing product. And to build something over three systems to millions of credits per annum, it’s phenomenal. No one expected that. But I doubt they’re buying you for the revenue.”
“You mean they’re after the infrastructure?”
“Yeah. And maybe the secret source you have in getting your product under the right noses. The database is only part of the asset.”
Paige’s eyes were focused off in the distance. Somewhere beyond even the kitchen wall. “Wow. This is… a turn out for the books.”
“It’s pretty impressive,” Maya agreed. “You should be super proud of what you’ve achieved.”
Paige laughed dryly and wiped her hand back across her forehead to her hair before resting her arm on the table with her head in her hand. “Yeah, if there was ever any time to sit back and smell the roses!”
Maya gave her a knowing look. “Maybe this is an opportunity to do that, then?” She paused. “How long is the offer on the table?” She nodded at Paige’s holo for the information.
“Two weeks,” Paige replied without needing to check.
“Well, we have a little time.”
Paige nodded her head slowly and repeatedly. “Okay, tomorrow we work on this.”
Maya pressed her lips together again. “Sure. Probably worth using the base facilities, too. I’d like to do some stealthy digging on this. Something’s niggling me.”
Paige frowned. “Yeah, me too. I mean, Newstainment? Something tells me we’re going to need access to all the resources we can get on this one if we’re going to get to the bottom of what’s going on.”
Maya narrowed her eyes. “You’re suspecting something?”
Paige almost grimaced. “Between this and the government move on the university, I think we’d be naive to rule anything out at this stage.”
Maya’s eyebrows darted to the top of her face. “The university? What’s going on there?” The tone of Paige’s voice had her alarmed.
Paige took another long sip of her drink. “Well, I kinda knew something was coming. Gareth warned me the other week. But we didn’t know quite what form it was going to take. Plus, from past history, he’s not the most reliable source.”
“What do you mean? What’s coming?”
“I received a notification from some government division about some bullshit health and safety review that the university is under.”
“Why? What for?”
“From what Gareth was saying, someone in the government is out to shut us down. I dismissed it at the time because it was coming from him. I figured, why was he just telling me? If it were genuine, he has protocols with Molly to alert the team. But he didn’t. I figured it was just a ruse to get talking again.”
“So, you ignored it?”
“Yeah. And then I got this holocomm from the board of health and safety.”
Paige pulled up another holocomm she’d received that afternoon. She flushed as the anxiety flooded through her body again.
Maya read the comm and then pushed it back toward her. “Shit. That looks…”
“Serious?” Paige said grimly. “Yeah, you’re telling me.”
“No wonder you needed a drink,” Maya said sympathetically. “So, what are you going to do?”
Paige’s face fell, and her shoulders rolled over. She rested both arms on the table. “I dunno yet. Molly left me in charge. I suppose it needs handling. But I’m not really sure what we can do.”
Maya took a deep breath, then stood up to check the oven. “Okay, well, who might know?” she probed.
Paige thought for a moment before her eyes lit up. “Ah! Yes! Good point. Gareth. The guy who helped us set up the institution in the first place. He’s got a good idea about rules and regulations. Let me message him.”
Paige typed quickly on her holo, hoping that the alcohol wasn’t influencing her just yet. She hit send. “Okay, we’re fixing an appointment to talk tomorrow. Hopefully, he’ll be able to give me a hand.”
Maya had pulled the snacks out of the oven. “Okay, that’s one down. Now what are you going to do about your company?”
Paige’s eyes returned to the grim look of dismay. “I have no idea.” She sighed. “That’s something I can’t think about sober.” She smiled weakly before raising her half empty glass to Maya.
Maya got the message. “Okay, snacks and drinks. And no more talk of difficult decisions until tomorrow!”
Chapter 5
Glom Space station, Kirox Quadrant
Four days earlier…
Karina waited for her server to place the mocha she had ordered on her table and then walk away. She pulled up her wrist holo again and reopened the screen. The long-range call was astonishingly still connected.
“I dunno what kind of tech this is,” she blurted out in a low voice, “but I know if your government found out…”
Carol Bates leered arrogantly back at her. “Actually Karina, dear, it’s your government too, remember? And those who need to know are well aware we have it. Our collective job is protecting the planet, and long-range comm technology is hardly a misuse.”
Karina’s nostrils flared defiantly. “Unless you count harassing people who traveled excruciating distances and even braved cryo-stasis to avoid your interference!”
“Now, now,” Carol Bates retorted in a warning tone. “No need to be rude. You may be a long way in terms of light years, but one wrong move, young lady, and I can arrange to have you snapped back in an instant. And if that happens, our deal is off.”
“Well, you won’t have any need for that, just as long as you keep up your end of the bargain.” Karina’s tone softened. “I do this, and we both walk. No more bullshit. No more missions. You let us live in peace.”
Carol glanced down at her nails and pretended to be disinterested and aloof. “I’ll keep my end of the bargain. Though I can’t imagine you’ll be at peace with that… man.”
Karina’s gaze darted around the area offscreen as she checked the restaurant. She’d deliberately chosen one out of the way so she could prepare in peace. Carol’s annoying interruption was ruining that peace now. But she also wanted somewhere that would minimize casualties.
Timing was going to be everything.
“Look,” Karina huffed, her gaze snapping back to the holoscreen. “If there’s nothing else, some of us have work to do. He’s on his way.”
Carol raised her hands in a mocking surrender gesture. “Okay, okay. I’ll leave you to get on with it. But remember,” she looked menacingly into the camera lens, “you fuck this up and you’re done.”
Karina felt a shudder creeping up her spine. She desperately didn’t want Carol to see that she was getting to her, though. She made a conscious effort to maintain her facial expression as best she could and closed the call.
Then she shuddered.
That woman is the biggest bitch I’ve ever known. I can’t imagine what it would be like to be her daughter.
The restaurant door opened and her hired flunky stepped in. Spotting her across the restaurant, he bumbled his way between the rows of empty dining tables, furtively glancing around as he did.
He was clearly packing.
Karina rolled her eyes. “Could you draw any more attention to yourself?” she asked casually, kicking a chair out on the other side of the table from her. She nodded at it. “Sit.”
He pulled the seat out and sat down obediently. This was a man who was used to taking orders.
Karina leaned over the table and spoke slowly and deliberately. “Okay, the beacon has been destroyed, which means that he’s on his way here right now.”
The flunky nodded.
“So, you know what you need to do?” she asked.
“I sure do. I wait until you give me the signal and then I start firing.”
“Yes. In my general direction, but for Ancestor’s sake, don’t hit me. Or anyone else. Is that clear?”
“Yep. That’s clear. I can do that. I once went to shooting practice with the boss and never shot a thing.”
Karina was about to continue but halted as she processed what she just heard. She frowned, opened her mouth to speak, and then closed it again.
“Is there anything else Ms. Karina?”
She gathered herself again and moved the mocha cup closer to her. “No, Ronnie. That’s everything. But make sure you sell it. And then disappear. I’ll do the rest. We just want him to feel like I’m in danger, okay?”
“Yes, Ms. Karina. I can do that.”
Karina nodded abruptly once. “Okay,” she said definitively. “Go sit over there and order something. And wait for my signal. And for goodness sake, don’t keep looking at me… or don’t make it look like you’re watching me.”
“Got it.” Ronnie got up and moved to a booth nearer the door where Karina had indicated.
Karina sipped her mocha. She hoped to hell this was going to work because getting Ronnie killed in her little ruse wasn’t something she wanted to have to live with.
Philip’s car, just outside Estarian satellite orbit
Carol found herself in the dark, gradually becoming aware of her surroundings. And a headache to end all headaches.
She shifted herself, feeling a hard surface beneath her. Then she remembered.
Philip!
She struggled, discovering that her wrists were bound.
And her ankles.
“What the—”
Well, at least she wasn’t gagged. “Philip!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. The board she was lying on moved and she lurched sideways.
Dammit. She was in the trunk of a car. How… amateurish, she thought.
She shuffled around to figure out which way she was facing. She started feeling the outer edges of her space as best she could with her hands bound. Noticing the lull of the car from side to side, she deduced they were already in space. She didn’t want to open the trunk in that case.
She shuffled over onto her other side. This would take her into the car. Carefully, she searched with her fingers for the pull switch that would put the back seats down. She knew that if they were in Philip’s car, they would go down.
Unless he’d tied them so they wouldn’t.
She found the catch and pushed. It moved. She pushed again, using all the might she could muster without putting her foot through the trunk.
The seat back fell forward, letting light into her little cubby hole.
“You fucking arsewipe!” she screamed into the car. “What the fuck are you doing?”
She started clambering into the main compartment of the car, her headache only exasperating her foul mood now.
“Oh, you’re awake,” Philip said casually. “Hello, dear.”
“Don’t you ‘hello dear,’ me. What the fuck?”
Philip watched her struggling through the back of the car in his rearview mirror. “It’s the only way I could get you to come with me.”
“Why?” she demanded. “Where are you taking me?”
“To someone who can talk some sense into you.”
“What are you talking about?” She fell inelegantly forward into the footwell of the opposite side of the car, dragging her bound legs behind her.
Philip kept his face straight, knowing full well he would never hear the end of it if he started laughing at her now. “Lance has requested a meeting with us,” he said simply.
“That pompous asshole!” She elbowed her way back up onto the seat. “He doesn’t need a reason to throw his so-called authority around. Just because he has bigger guns and alien tech doesn’t mean he gets to boss the rest of the world around.”
“Actually, it does,” Philip corrected her.
Carol finally managed to swing her legs down and sat herself up, bringing her eyes up to the mirror to glare at her traitorous husband. A thought occurred to her. “It was you who had been accessing my files!”
“And ADAM,” Philip confessed. “Seems someone has been a very bad girl.” His tone changed to something rather seductive.
Under any other circumstances, Carol knew she would respond differently. Right now, though, he was in the dog house.
“I have been no such thing!” she said angrily.
“Right. And that is why I’ve had orders to get you up there?”
There was a pause as Carol fumed in the back seat, coming to terms with the inevitability of the meeting.
“Anyway,” Philip said, keeping the tone light, “you should probably know before we get up there, there’s been a problem. They’ve lost Sean.”
“Well, that’s no big loss,” Carol chuffed.
“And Molly’s gone after him,” Philip added.
Carol Bates turned instantly pale.
“Anything you want to share, Carol? Before you have to confess your sins to the big guy?”
Carol was silent for a moment, her anger diffusing right in front of Philip’s eyes. She hesitated before responding. “No. Nothing.”
“Are you sure?” he pressed. “Because this has Carol Bates, Head of Estarian Clandestine Operations, written all over it.” He added, “I know my wife.”
Her eyes flicked away from the mirror and fixed on something outside one of the windows. “Well,” she said slowly, thinking as fast as she could, “I might have arranged to have Sean lured out to another sector.”
“How?”
“An old operative. Someone who has history with him.”
Philip closed his eyes briefly in frustration before searching for her gaze again. “What exactly did you do?”
“I just encouraged her to get him away from this system and…” She paused again.
“And what?” Philip demanded.
She coughed a little before she responded. “Marry him.”
“What the fuck, Carol? Are you fucking insane?” The car swerved off track, and the auto-navigation started beeping loudly.
“Careful!” Carol shouted back. “You’ll get us killed, you crazy old goat!”
Philip reset the steering and flicked the alarm off. He shook his head, composing himself outwardly, but clearly still seething. “You’re the one that’s going to get our daughter killed.”
Carol didn’t respond. She had gone into sulking mode. He recognized it well from the myriad of tiny facial cues she gave off.
The worst thing to do now would be not to keep her talking. If she was talking, she could be brought around. If she was left to sulk, the issue would fester and would no doubt blow up in a bigger problem very soon. “How on Estaria is getting some operative to marry him a good thing to do?” he asked, incredulous but not as angry now.
Carol seemed to return to logic, which was better than sulking, but dangerous territory for him. “Well, then it means he’s unavailable… and won’t get any more involved with Molly. I want him as far away from her as possible.”
“By getting him hitched?”
“Well, I didn’t know she’d go after him!” she protested, as if that were the issue they were debating.
“Of course, she’s going to go after him if she thinks he’s in danger. Which is clearly what’s happened if he’s gone dark. This is what teams do for each other. If you’d spent more than five minutes in the field, relying on anyone but yourself, you’d know that already.”
Silence hung in the air of the tiny space car.
Her face changed. If she didn’t have her wrists bound, Philip knew she’d be folding her arms right about now. He needed to keep her talking, even if they were arguing. “I mean, in what world is getting him married off a logical way to protect Molly?” he muttered, only half expecting an answer this time.
Her jawline hardened. Back to logic. “Look,” she said matter-of-factly. “Since we’re already en route, how about you undo these ties and let me sit up front?”
“No fucking way!” he said immediately. “You’re staying back there. Tied up. I wasn’t born yesterday.”
“But I’m your wife! You can’t treat me like this!”
“And as your husband, I’m doing damage control. And that means stopping you from doing anything else that could put our daughter in jeopardy.”
“Hmpft,” she scoffed. “You could have at least used the newer ones that don’t chafe the skin.”
Philip ignored her and glared into the blackness of space ahead of them, his eyes scanning for signs of The ArchAngel.
The sooner they got on board, the better.
Glom Space station, Kirox Quadrant
Karina glanced nervously at her holo. She was on her second mocha, and Ronnie seemed to be halfway through some kind of fry-up.
For the umpteenth time, the restaurant door opened, pulling her attention and pushing her into high alert. A small Ogg-like lady walked in and called something to the server behind the bar, who replied back. She strode hurriedly across the room.
Staff, Karina decided. She went back to her mocha.
Just then, the door went again, and again, her heartbeat doubled, giving her a shot of adrenaline through her system. It was a tall, broad human. Karina’s emotions recognized the face before her mind did.
This was it!
She glanced anxiously at Ronnie, suddenly wishing she hadn’t created this setup. Sean moved one step into the restaurant and locked eyes with her immediately.
She froze.
Her mind spun with all the things she wanted to tell him. All the regrets and hopes she had had over the years. She willed him to come closer. To not look so intense. She couldn’t read him. Was he mad at her? Was it because she wasn’t in bindings that he figured she wasn’t in trouble? Or was this just him in high alert?
Then, everything started to happen in slow motion. She was vaguely aware of a figure moving off to his right. Sean was onto it fast. He knew there was a threat. What did she expect?
She called out to him. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go down.
Ronnie fired in her direction. She ducked, her hands automatically coming up to cover her face.
“That was too close!” she shouted, forgetting the ruse. But Ronnie was gone and out on the veranda of the restaurant, scrambling back down into the walkway of the station’s main thoroughfare.
Sean took half a second to glare at her before he was off like a shot, chasing Ronnie through the crowded road.
Shaking, Karina sat back down. She needed to wait for him to come back. This was the point. Not for her to run around like the more-than-capable spy she had become.
Damsel in distress. That was what had brought them together in the first place. That was what she needed to be.
She reached for her mocha. Her hand was already steadying itself. Five years out of it, but somehow, it felt a lot like riding an anti-grav bike.
Just then, two rather large humans strode confidently into the restaurant. They were well dressed and muscly. Probably enhanced with cyborg-tech. Top of the line if her estimation about their movements was correct.
She watched them approach her before suddenly realizing they weren’t part of her plan, and there was nothing to say they were with Sean. Their expressions looked too determined.
Her brain finally clicked into gear. “Hello, boys. You looking for someone?”
“Yeah. You by the looks of it, princess!”
“Well,” she said, keeping her cool and gently getting to her feet. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint you.” She waited until they were two steps from her table and gently reached down as casually as if she were picking up her purse. Instead, she put her fingers under the edge of the table and, in one swift movement, flipped it up into them.
The movement, more than the table, stopped them in their tracks.
Karina reached for her pistol strapped to her leg and started firing. A second later, her arm was in a lock, one of the men having grabbed it and taken her gun right out of her hand. She struggled, pulling sharply to free herself. But she couldn’t move.
“Damn fucking cyborgs!” she screamed in frustration.
She reached into her jacket pocket for her handheld stunner. All she needed to do was press one side of it onto one of the guys, and he’d go down. Then she could fight her way out. She got her fingers onto it in the pocket and then felt a sharp pain in the side of her neck.
A second later, her arms and legs went numb.
“Sorry, princess,” she heard the gruff voice gloating. “Someone important wants to see you.”
Then, everything felt hazy before her vision blacked out.
She was down.
Aboard The ArchAngel, undisclosed location
The door swished open, and Lance hauled himself up from his console in his private study. He arrived in his main office to see Barb readjusting the portrait on his wall.
“Barb!” he called amicably. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”
“No problem, boss. Anything I can do to help.”
“I’m glad you said that.” He paused, letting it sink in. “This is a little out of your normal operational scope, I’m afraid. But I’d very much appreciate your help.”
Barb stepped away from the picture she’d been adjusting and, satisfied it was now straight, wandered over to the sofa area where Lance was inviting her to sit.
“It’s also rather delicate,” he added.
Barb smiled confidently. “Which is why you needed a woman’s touch.”
“Something like that,” he admitted, sitting down at one corner.
“So, what gives?” she asked, sitting down on the sofa around the corner from him.
“You remember Carol Bates? Head of clandestine operations down on Estaria?”
“Boy, do I. That woman—”
Lance held his hand up to silence her. “I know. But the less said…”
Barb pressed her lips together and nodded.
Lance continued. “So, she’s on her way up here.”
Barb frowned. “Oh? We’re in the Sark System?”
Lance smiled. “Yes. You missed the announcements?”
“I guess,” she said sheepishly. “I’ve had my head in some research for Frank. Trying to get done before we take a break together.”
“I see.”
“Yeah, anyway,” she continued, staying completely focused on the point. “What do you need me to do? Babysit her while she’s on board?”
Lance took a deep breath. “Actually, it’s more than that.”
Barb raised her eyebrows.
Lance looked serious. “I need you to get her talking. Find out everything she’s been up to. Sean’s gone missing, and she’s got something to do with it.”
Barb frowned. “Don’t you have people who can do this kind of… interrogation?”
“Yes, but, well… Carol is the mother of one of our best assets in this system. And well, there’s a bigger picture.”
“How so?”
“Well, I think we all know that Carol’s issue with the Federation is very specific. But she and her department have a lot to offer. I’m afraid big things are coming for this little system, and it won’t be long before it’s going to need to make a decision about joining the Federation officially… or fending for itself. Obviously, if it chooses to go against us, that will have implications.”
Barb nodded slowly. “So, you’re thinking if we can get her on our side, we can influence things to bring them into the fold gently?”
“Exactly.”
Barb narrowed her eyes and regarded the young-looking general carefully. “What else aren’t you telling me?”
“Well, there are specific threats I think she’ll be helpful on. But she doesn’t have that level of clearance. I only want to loop her in if we know she’s coming on board. And the other complication is her daughter.”
Barb frowned. “Why? What about her?”
“We have reason to suspect they have a strained relationship,” Lance disclosed. “Very little contact. Not quite sure what’s gone on there. But we need her to align with her daughter, so we need that mess fixed, too.”
Barb shook her head and breathed out rapidly. “Wow. You don’t ask for much, do you? You realize I’m not a trained psychologist or anything?”
“Yes, Barb, I know that. But if you’re able to talk Frank around and keep Giles in line long enough to survive puberty, I think you can talk Carol round.”
Lance shifted on the sofa as if to get up, then changed his mind. “Oh, and one more thing. Turns out she’s pretty talkative when she’s had a few martinis.” He shrugged. “God knows how she became a spy with that issue, but…”
Barb sniggered. “So, you’re sanctioning me to get her drunk? And then find out what she did to Sean? And then convince her to patch things up with her daughter? And then to join the Federation?”
Lance chuckled, getting up. “Just intel on Sean would be good to begin with. One step at a time, eh?”
Barb breathed heavily through her nose, clearly amused. “Okay, I’ll get onto the research and see what I can do. Wanna let me know when she gets here?” she suggested getting up and wandering back across the office.
“Sure thing. Thanks, Barb.”
“Any time,” she replied. “Frank’s lack of organization was driving me nuts. I’m glad of the break.” She checked the picture on the wall one last time before waving and heading out of the office.
Lance watched her, smiling to himself and shaking his head. Good ol’ Barb, he thought before turning his attention back to work.
Chapter 6
Glom Space station, Kirox Quadrant
Ronnie Matherson was a loser.
But when he was brought into the family by his uncle, there were those who thought that maybe it would be the making of him. After all, how hard would it be to just show up, look tough, and deliver the odd message now and again?
Right now, Ronnie wished that he’d stuck to the original tasks that his employer had assigned him. Bill always said that thinking wasn’t his strong suit.
Ronnie turned sharply right and headed down a passage between two establishments. His eyes scanned for somewhere to hide. An air vent. A cupboard. A garbage chute.
Anything to escape the advancing cyborg that was hot on his trail.
Karina was pretty. But not pretty enough to die for. No amount of money she had paid him was worth this.
He thought it was going to be easy. Easy money and easy pride. A job: one he could finally pull off on his own.
Breathing hard, his eyes darted from shadow to shadow, looking for a hiding place that might save him. The chatter of the main station thoroughfare behind him fell like a curtain, offering him a false sense of protection from advancing doom.
He found a recess in the wall behind a panel. It was narrow, but it was going to have to do. Darting over to it like a tiny space rat, he pulled himself round, clumsily catching the back of his hand against the sharp edge of the panel. He pressed himself up against the side of the next building and tried to slow his breathing. He felt beads of sweat dripping from his head and down his neck and face. He felt like he’d been running for hours.
It was likely only a few minutes, though. That, he knew. And cyborgs don’t get tired.
He felt his own body heat warming the air around him now he was stationary. He hated himself. He hated how he got himself into these messes. And he hated that this time, out on his own, with no one from the family to mop up his mess, he was going to die.
Peering from behind the panel, he saw the silhouette of his pursuer appearing in the alley.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, he cursed silently. It wasn’t fair.
He tried to hold back his whimpering. It was only a matter of moments before he was going to be found. His eyes welled with tears of terror and sadness.
The cyborg started moving toward him, getting closer and closer with each step.
No way was he getting out of this.
“I see you, dumbass,” the man called. His voice was tough. Tougher than any of the hard asses he’d ever worked for. Like Federation-tough.
Ronnie accidentally let out a whimper.
The voice called him again. “Come out of there, space rat, and I might let you live.”
Ronnie’s face clenched up in anguish. He had never been so afraid in his worthless life.
“Come out!” The man ordered again, making Ronnie jump out of his skin.
As if his legs had grown a will of their own, or at least an obedience to his executioner, they marched him out from behind the panel of atmospheric controls.
“Good,” the cyborg said with an undertone of menace. “Now, we’re going to go right back to that restaurant, and you and Karina are going to explain to me exactly why she told you you were shooting ‘too close’.”
Ronnie’s face dropped. Then he realized that he had automatically put his hands up. He started lowering them before he realized the threat hadn’t passed. He quickly put them back up.
“Come, now,” Sean ordered, striding back out of the artificial alleyway.
Knowing he had neither the balls, firepower, nor speed to do anything else, Ronnie resigned himself to his fate and followed the all-powerful cyborg promptly.
The unlikely pair wove their way back through the corridors they had given chase down just minutes before.
The cyborg never once checked behind him to make sure that Ronnie was following.
Probably got some kind of biometric lock on me, Ronnie thought to himself dejectedly.
It took some minutes to return to the restaurant, but as they approached, they saw two rather large, enhanced men carrying Karina.
“Oi!” Sean shouted out to them. People in the crowd looked at him. Before Ronnie understood what was happening, Sean was on the move. “Move and I’ll find you and kill you,” he shouted back to Ronnie. Ronnie froze on the spot.
Sean barged his way through the people, trying to get to the men carrying Karina. “Oi!” he shouted.
One of the men took Karina over both shoulders now, and the other one turned, pointing a weapon at Sean.
Sean could see, even from this distance, that Karina was out cold. Her body hung limply, but Sean refused to believe she could be dead. It wouldn’t make sense to carry a dead body like that.
The second man fired a warning shot just above the crowd. There were screams as shoppers and diners scattered like ants, suddenly aware of the danger.
Sean lunged to the side of the street, finding cover behind a raised walkway. Immediately though, he started advancing again.
He peeked up over the edge of the raised platform that was used by the restaurants as a patio. He could see the two goons hurrying away: one with the girl, the other with a pistol sweeping their path behind them, fending off any attacks.
Sean drew his weapon and scuttled after them, keeping low and out of sight.
He watched as they disappeared around the corner, and then ran as hard as he could through the crowd of frightened punters who still hadn’t managed to get out of the way. Turning the corner, he saw them running in extended gait: something only cyborgs could do with their enhanced muscles and reflexes. He pounded down the corridor after them, pushing his own reflexes and power into extended mode.
Thump thump thump thump…
He felt the vibration of the station structure through his joints as he ran, weapon held up ready to fire as soon as he got a clear shot.
The pair disappeared around the next corner.
Thump thump thump thump…
It would have taken a normal human at least three times as long to cover this distance. His brain turned to figuring out where they might be going. On a station such as this, there were going to be very few places they could hide. Though weapons were allowed, they didn’t look like they were packing more than a pistol or two, and they were heading to the outer reach of the station, not inwards.
That means they’re going for the docks, he decided. He needed to reach them before they got her onto a shuttle. Otherwise, they’d be gone forever.
His mind flicked through the possibility of going back to Scamp. But Scamp was on the other side of the station, back the other way. With the number of ships coming and going, there was no way he’d be able to find the right one once they got space-borne.
He pushed harder, trying to keep up. He slowed a tad just to take the corner. He placed his feet carefully, so as not to slip, his keen gaze assessing the speed and positioning faster than everything was happening. He raised his gaze as he rounded the corner. His body reacted before his brain had processed what was happening. One of the cyborgs was right there, pointing his gun down the corridor, poised and waiting for Sean to appear.
BANG.
BANG bang bang.
Sean felt himself losing his footing. Then, his head was whipped violently to the side, and he felt himself change direction.
He was floating through the air, and then, nothing.
Nothingness lasted a little while until gradually, he became aware of the nothingness.
Then, he felt his head throbbing. He went to move and felt cold concrete beneath him. He managed to lift his head, trying to open his eyes against the light. Squinting and aching, he felt like he had been hit by a train.
Eventually, he realized what had happened and brought himself up to a sitting position. Dragging himself, aching, up against the side of the tunnel he had been running through, he checked himself for injury. He looked down at his chest. There was a laser burn the size of a billiard ball in the top layers of his atmosuit.
Thank fuck for Federation-issue suits, he thought to himself, delicately prodding his fingers into the holes in the carbon-fiber layers beneath.
He tried to take a deep breath but winced. It may have stopped the round, but his body still had to dissipate the momentum. And momentum burned like a motherfucker.
Still in pain, he leaned forward over his legs and started to haul himself up. There was no telling how long he’d been out, but one thing was certain: whoever those guys were, they had Karina, and by now, they were long gone.
He looked up the corridor, briefly wondering if he should carry on anyway and try and narrow down who had been there.
Then he remembered the space rat he had been about to haul into questioning. He turned back the way he came and started limping down the corridors as fast as his cyborg ass would carry him.
Maybe he’d give Karina’s flunky a chance to redeem himself, after all.
* * *
Sean was moving a little more naturally by the time he arrived back in the main part of the station. His pain modulators had kicked in, and repair had already begun on the bruising in his chest. He’d also found a lump on his head where he must have hit it during his fall. That was the biggest danger of being able to move so fast. It hurt like hell when you were forced to stop quickly.
Things had started to return to normal already. Station security were doing their thing, cordoning of the area and milling around, presumably talking to witnesses. Sean made his way up to the scene, careful to maintain a large enough distance so that he didn’t look too curious. His eyes scanned the area, picking up all the minute details that might be relevant later. Nothing caught his attention, though.
He passed by, leaving the scene behind him, his eyes now scanning for Karina’s contact. If anyone was going to be able to tell him what the fuck was going on, it was going to be him.
Sean chuckled to himself as he approached the spot where he had told the reprobate to stay put. Part of him thought he might do it just because he was scared and stupid. Part of him was disappointed that he hadn’t. It would have amused him. He kept his eyes peeled as he walked, retracing his step, trying to figure out where his mark might have gone.
If the lackey was cooperating, he’d stay nearby. If not, he’d be long gone. Sean decided to assume for now that he’d be somewhere within eye shot so that when Sean returned—
A movement caught his eye over to his right. Just outside the shadows of a crevice between two faux-fronted buildings, he caught sight of the sweaty, inept human he had been chasing. Seeing Sean, the scrawny human nodded and then stepped back into the shadows.
Sean crossed the walkway and headed over to meet him.
“Good decision,” he grunted as he approached the alley.
Ronnie looked up at him. “I got out of the way, though. Station security turned up.”
Sean nodded. “Fine. Okay, now you’re going to start from the beginning and tell me exactly what is going on.”
The human swallowed. “Okay,” he agreed.
Minutes later, Ronnie had introduced himself and told Sean the story so far. Sean hadn’t needed to resort to any form of violence, to his mild disappointment.
“So, Karina hired you to lay down fire and lure me in. But that doesn’t explain who those assholes were who took her.”
Ronnie wrung his hands nervously. “I dunno who they are. I thought it might have been part of her plan.”
Sean pursed his lips. “It could be. But I don’t want to take that chance. Who might they be?”
“What do you mean? I just told you I have no idea who they are.”
Sean stepped forward menacingly.
Ronnie flinched. “I dunno. I swear. I’ve never seen them before!”
Sean looked down at him sternly. Maybe violence isn’t out of the question, he mused to himself.
“Look,” he said out loud, “the odds are, if you know Karina in this sector of space, you’re dodgy. I’d bet my Federation pension on it. So, I’ll ask you again. Given who the big bad is in this sector, who is it likely to be?”
“Erm, well, if I had a gun to my head and I had to guess,” Ronnie said slowly, perspiring again. Sean raised his eyebrows, reacting to the gun to his head comment. “I’d say maybe the family,” Ronnie finished hastily. He gulped.
“Which family?” Sean pressed, his agitation now showing.
“The Calzones.”
Sean’s complexion turned gray. He lost his train of thought for a moment. “Okay,” he said, floundering a little. “Lemme guess, you work for the family.”
His tone made it a statement.
“How do you know?” Ronnie asked, staggering back half a step to restore some space between them.
Sean shook his head. “Sorry to tell you this, kid, but you’re a walking cliche.”
Ronnie’s eyebrows knotted. “Oh. I dunno what that means.”
“Never mind. It’s a good thing today.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because,” Sean explained, “it means that you’re going to be able to help me.”
Ronnie was still flummoxed. “How?”
Sean was regaining his posture, though. “Since you work for the people who are likely holding Karina, you can get me into where Karina is being taken.”
Ronnie started backing up, stumbling in the darkness of the alley. “No. No way. Not if she’s going where I think she’s going.”
Sean stepped forward again. “You will. Or I’ll kill you where you stand.”
Petrified again, Ronnie froze on the spot. Sean watched as the fear subsided and turned to utter dismay. His shoulders slumped. “Well, I guess I don’t have a choice.”
“Good,” Sean grunted, his mood not changed even a little by Ronnie’s agreement. “Now that that’s arranged, let’s go take a look at your ship. See what we’re dealing with.”
Sean marched Ronnie to check Ronnie’s ship. Satisfied it was spacefaring and agile enough, he then frog-marched him back to the dock where he had left Scamp.
“Climb on,” he said, nodding toward the invisible staircase.
Ronnie looked at him in confusion. “I, erm… need to wait for the stair lift or something.”
Sean chuckled to himself. He didn’t have time to drag this out. He pushed past Ronnie and started climbing. Ronnie watched in awe and then scrambled up after him.
“Don’t touch anything. Don’t ask any questions. I need to talk to my computer and then we’re leaving.”
Sean showed Ronnie into the kitchen of The Scamp Princess and left him there while he went to talk with Scamp in the cockpit.
Aboard The Scamp Princess, docked at Glom Space station, Kirox Quadrant
Sean sat in silence for a few moments in the cockpit. Thinking. Contemplating.
“Scamp?”
“Yes, Sean?”
“I’m going to have to take another ride to where Karina is.”
“Why?”
“Because if I show up in The Scamp Princess, they’re gonna see me coming, and they’ll hurt Karina.”
“I see.”
“I need you to wait here for me.”
“Sean?”
“Yes?”
“Is it dangerous?”
“Nah. It’ll be a walk in the park.”
“Only, if it’s dangerous, we should talk about what I should do if you don’t come back. My programming is to return to the Federation after twenty-four hours, unmanned.”
There was silence for a few moments.
“Can we override your programming?” Sean asked.
“Only if it is mission critical.”
Sean thought a while longer. “Well, how about this: you wait for me here for three days. If I don’t come back, then you return to Molly so that she can complete the mission?”
“What mission?”
“That’s above your pay grade, Scamp.”
“You’re saying that so I have to override the twenty-four-hour window.”
“Maybe I am. But either way, you have to do it, right?”
“You are correct.”
“Good.” Sean pushed himself up out of the pilot’s chair and winced.
“Are you damaged Sean?”
“Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t fix.”
“I don’t think you should be trying to do whatever you’re doing on your own.”
“I have no choice, Scamp.” Sean laid his hand gently on the top of the console. “You’ve been a good friend, Scamp. Thank you for everything.”
And then he strode out of the cockpit.
“Why did that feel like a goodbye?” Scamp muttered to the empty room.
Sean poked his head into the kitchen. “Alright, Ronnie. Time to move.”
Ronnie hadn’t had time to poke around and was still sitting quietly at the table. He jumped up and followed Sean quickly out of the kitchen and then through the passageway back out of the side door with the invisible steps.
He hesitated as his foot hit something firm that he couldn’t see. And then he trotted down after his new master.
Sean didn’t even look back. When the two were off the staircase, Ronnie could hear some kind of machinery moving, and then the door closed, and the locks slid mechanically into place.
He glanced back briefly and almost ran into a maintenance cart on the dock. Flustered, he turned his attention just to following Sean and then jogged to catch up to him.
* * *
The pair arrived back at Ronnie’s ship in no time. Sean obviously had a good memory. Or he knew the station. Ronnie dared not ask which. He seemed even more agitated than before.
“Okay,” Sean gruffed, climbing on board. “Let’s get her out of here as fast as possible.”
Ronnie obeyed quietly, full of dread for what Sean was about to make him do.
Chapter 7
Unknown location, somewhere in Kirox Quadrant
Karina came to in a cold room. She moved her head, twisting to see where she was. She was lying on some kind of bench. She swung her legs around to sit up and felt a chain drag. Opening her eyes, she realized where she was. And she didn’t like it.
Metal bars made up one wall. Cold gray stone made up the other three. She was chained by one ankle to a bolt in the wall by the bench she was lying on.
Shit.
“Guard!” she shouted. No response. “Guaaaaaaaaaard!” she screamed again.
No one came.
She slumped back against the wall, then curled her legs up to her chest. She knew how this went, and she could end up being here a while.
She sat in the half light, thinking.
If only she had told Mrs. Bates “no,” she wouldn’t be here now. Or she could have just come clean to Sean. She didn’t have to lure him out here. Or get that Ronnie kid to make things look realistic. And how the hell did these goons find her?
Her mind reeled, searching for understanding.
Odds were, they’d killed Sean right there on the station. So that was her fault.
She felt her insides implode with guilt. Her life was once again well and truly fucked. Only this time, there was no Sean Royale to pick up the pieces.
She rested her head back against the cold wall. Fuck.
Footsteps. There were footsteps coming from the other end of the corridor. That meant someone probably wanted to talk to her. A guard appeared. “Okay, princess. You’re up.”
The guard didn’t wear a uniform. None of them did in this group. That was the family way. They were paid as employees but expected to act as… well, family. Complete loyalty was demanded. And assumed. The alternative is… well, death.
The man was human but enhanced. Karina couldn’t be sure that he was one of the goons that got the jump on her. They all looked the same out here, with their over-beefed muscles and worn atmosuits.
It didn’t matter anyway. She always knew that one day she would probably have to face the music.
The guard put her in arm braces and then undid the chain on her ankle. “Move,” he grunted, pushing her toward the open door.
“You didn’t bring any backup to fetch me?” she asked, trying to provoke him for no other reason than she was annoyed and wanted to take it out on someone.
“Didn’t need it, sweetheart. Nothing much you can do. Nowhere to run.” He grabbed her upper arm roughly and pushed her ahead of him down the corridor, toward the lighted building beyond.
The flunky led Karina up through a series of walkways and corridors and into a mag-lev elevator. Karina recognized it, but it had been a long time since she was last here, and there were certain things that had changed. She wouldn’t like to have to navigate her way out of this place under duress.
But then, this didn’t seem to be a day where she was going to get everything she wanted.
Eventually, the cyborg brought her to a door. He knocked. A gruff voice answered from the other side. The flunky hit the “open door” button and shoved her inside.
The decor was warm and expensive. Carpets. Curtains. All the trappings of an executive suite on a trading outpost. A trading outpost in a corner of the galaxy she would rather have never visited again.
The man who was in command of everything on the outpost stood looking out of the window, out into space and the dock activity on the other side of the station.
“Karina,” he cooed, without turning around. “Nice of you to join me.”
Karina scowled and tugged herself away from the cyborg that was escorting her. “Yeah. The pleasure is all yours, Dad.”
Don Calzone turned around to look at his daughter. “Is that all you have to say to your Papa after all these years?”
Karina glared at him. “What can I say? I’m not the sentimental type.”
The Don’s expression turned serious. “Me neither,” he shared. “I should kill you where you stand.”
Karina raised her chin defiantly. “Fine. Do it. I’d much rather die than end up locked in a cage in this shithole.”
The Don’s eyes flared, and his complexion turned red with fury. “How dare you talk to me like that?”
“How dare you have me put in your shitty dungeon like that?” Her demeanor shifted. Since leaving this place, she had learned to hold herself in a certain way. A way that wouldn’t draw attention. A way that would allow her to look humble and deferent. But now, back under the same oppressive conditions, she felt her old ways coming back. Her back straightened, and her shoulders went back, ready to assert her authority, even to her father, the local crime lord.
“Well, you are behaving like the enemy!” he spat in fury, clearly unaccustomed to anyone challenging him since her departure.
“That’s what happens when you treat people like the enemy!”
“I did everything for you,” he protested, his anger spilling out into a lecture she had heard a million times. “I educated you. I taught you our ways. I prepared you to take over the family business.”
She didn’t miss a beat in her response. “I didn’t want to take over the goddam business. I hate what you do!”
Vito wasn’t going to be beaten. He slammed his hand on his desk. “There’s a fine line between love and hate. You would have grown to love it. Just like I did. And my Papa before me.” His anger was falling away as he ranted, clearly showing he no longer had the energy he once did. He sat down at his desk, a look of exhaustion on his drawn face.
“I hated you for the longest time,” he added more quietly. “But then, I thought you’d died. I had no idea you just betrayed me.”
He picked a laser gun up off his desk, his energy renewed. He got up and walked toward her with it. “I should blow your head off right now, though. Send a message to all those who might cross me!”
Karina maintained her posture. “I’d be surprised if you need me to send a message. From what I remember, you were always pulling shit like that, just in case someone, somewhere might undermine your authority.”
“Well, it worked!”
“It’s pathetic,” she spat venomously.
The Don’s fight disappeared from him, and his shoulders slumped as if the plug had been pulled out of a blown up balloon. “Karina…” he started, his voice hesitant now.
“No, don’t ‘Karina’ me, Dad. You dragged me out here. I was in the middle of something. What do you want?”
The Don sighed. “I want… I want my daughter back.”
He paused.
Karina waited.
“All this time, I thought you were dead. I wanted to kill you for not being more careful. And then, then, I find out that you’re alive. And not only are you alive, but that you left with that spy!”
“He wasn’t a spy.” She paused, the cogs turning behind her eyes. “How did you know I left with him?”
Calzone shrugged, the fight fully left him now. “I didn’t. Until you just confirmed it. Then… there were rumors you were still alive.”
“Well, whatever,” she grunted, looking pointedly at the arm cuffs. “It’s not important now.”
The Don sighed.
“So, what’s your move now, Dad?” she asked, emphasizing the word “Dad.” “You bring me up here to torture me with your shit? And then you’re going to kill me?” Years of pain tainted the timbre of her voice.
“No,” the old man confessed. “I’m not going to kill you. I thought I would,” he qualified quickly, his ego rising. “But over the years, I’ve come to realize that there is nothing like family. You’re my daughter. And despite what you’ve done in the past to hurt me, I want you to come home.”
“That’s very big of you,” she shot back sarcastically. “Not going to happen. I’ll take the bullet, thanks.”
“But Karina, don’t you see? I’m extending an olive branch. I want us to be together again. To be happy.”
She shook her head, her chin still held out obstinately. “No way I can be happy with you around. You’re a tyrant.”
“I’m not!”
Something on his desk buzzed, pulling his attention. Karina struggled to see if she could get free from the braces, without any luck.
Calzone hit his ear. “Yes?”
Someone on the other end of the line was telling him something. Suddenly, his eyes shot back to Karina. “Ah. I see. Yes, throw him in the dungeon for now. I’ll talk to him later.”
He hit the implant behind his ear again. “Seems we have company.”
Docking Bay, Bronislovas Trading Outpost, Kirox Quadrant
Ronnie’s beaten-up shuttle clunked into place in the docking bay. “You know, if we turn back now, we may stand a chance…” Ronnie suggested, his voice wobbling with stress.
Sean shook his head. “We’re going in.” He flicked a few switches, locking the ship in the dock so that the door switches would go live. “You stay here if you want, but this ship needs to be here when I get back. It’s our only escape.”
Ronnie nodded. “And your plan is to just walk in there?”
Sean was up and out of his seat, heading for the door. “Something tells me it will be easy to walk in there.”
The side door opened to reveal a small welcome party of family goons standing just inside the docking bay door. Ronnie took one look and scuttled back into the ship to hide. Sean, however, stepped down the stepladder as casually as if he were showing up to a friend’s place.
“Hello, fellas,” he called out to them. He noticed that one had a black eye. “Nice shiner. Where’d ya get that? Not from a girl by any chance?”
The cyborg glared back at him while two of the others moved forward. Sean put his hands in the air. “It’s all right, fellas. I want to be here. Take me to your leader.” He smirked to himself.
The two on either side of him put him into an arm brace, restraining his hands in front of him.
With a hint of humor and a big dose of complacency, he sidled up to one of them and, in a low voice, started talking to him. “Tell me, you haven’t seen a girl around here. Average build. About yay tall.” He held his hands up, despite the arm brace holding them together at the wrist. “Goes by the name of Karina? Packs a mean left hook?”
The flunky’s pupil dilation showed signs of recognition, but he said nothing. He took one of Sean’s arms, and another guy with guns on both legs took his other. Both had strong grips, and judging by the strength of them, Sean guessed they had some enhanced cyborg capabilities.
He heard a scuffle behind him and one of the muscle heads talking to Ronnie. They must have pulled him from the ship. “Boss will be very interested to see you,” he heard as he was pushed out of the docking bay door. “You’re in big trouble.”
The same voice called after them. “I’ll let him know about both of them.” The man on his left grunted something in acknowledgment, and they continued on their way.
Sean tried to turn back to see, but the third guy behind him pushed him forward again and blocked his view.
His sheer strength wasn’t going to get him out of this one. He was going to have to rely on something he knew from previous experience these guys wouldn’t have: wits.
Compliantly, he allowed himself to be led through the corridors from the docking bay, deeper and deeper into the station.
From the looks of the people around, this was a trading outpost. Humans and a host of other humanoid races passed by with crates and carts. Some also passed by with nothing but their digital holos, which would allow them to trade and communicate and move funds at the flick of a finger. They were dressed for comfort and show. Not for battle or practicalities.
And yet, no one batted a scaly eyelid at the fact that he was being restrained and moved through the station by two un-uniformed meatheads.
Sean wracked his brains to the last time he was here. The family certainly had all the control they needed back then. Maybe their operations weren’t even covert now. Could that be? That their dodgy dealings were out in the open?
He continued absorbing all the intel he could on the way, remembering each twist and turn so he could make his way back once he found Karina.
If he could find Karina.
The fact that she was taken and not killed on the spot suggested she was wanted alive, at least. But for how long? Not even Ronnie had been able to tell him that.
Ronnie had been taken in another direction, also in cuffs. He was on his own. And finding Karina on this trading outpost was going to be like trying to find a needle in a haystack.
Where’s a friendly AI when you need one? he mused to himself dryly.
Calzone’s office, Bronislovas Trading Outpost, Kirox Quadrant
The Don pressed his lips together. “You might be interested to know that it looks like your spy friend has come to save you,” he announced.
A tiny smile played across Karina’s lips.
Her father spotted it. “Ahh, so that makes you happy? That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile since you came back!”
Karina wanted to protest that she wasn’t back but bit her tongue.
He rocked gently in his chair. “Tell me, is this the same man who took you away from me?” She could see a new wave of anger boiling up in him.
Karina nodded her head. “Yes. He saved me from you.”
He deflated again, crushed. “Saved you from me? What are you talking about?”
Karina resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She’d been dealing with her father’s ridiculous ego all her life. Explaining logic or the real world to him had never had any positive effect. If anything, it only tended to push him to dig his heels in even more. “You were going to have me killed, remember? For being insolent or something.”
He looked off into the distance, searching for the distant memory. “Yes… you may be right. I was a lot more… volatile back then. But things are different now. It used to be that we were fighting tooth and nail with the Bertolis just to survive. But now… now we’re the big man!” He sounded proud.
Karina tempered her natural response to his pride. “So, you’re not going to kill me anymore?” She doubted very much he would catch the sarcasm in her voice.
“Kill you? No, my daughter. I’ve missed you… it turns out.”
Karina rolled her eyes.
“I’m glad you’re alive,” he continued. “And though I’d like to kill you for deserting me like that… no. It’s all water under the bridge. I’m going to start being a better father to you.”
“Really,” she responded flatly.
There was no way he could miss the sarcasm there.
“Yes. Don’t you see? If I was the same man, you’d still be in chains in the dungeon.”
Clearly, sarcasm is forever lost on him, she noted to herself. Like emotional intelligence.
“Oh yeah?” she pressed out loud. “And where did you put my friend?”
Though he was missing her points, he didn’t miss a beat in his response. “In the dungeon, of course.”
Karina shook her head. “So, you haven’t changed.”
“I have. I want you to be happy.” He sat down on the sofa near where she stood and patted the seat next to him. “So, tell me, Karina Calzone. What would make you happy?”
Karina wandered around the room, looking at the various artifacts his wealth and power had acquired for him. This room wasn’t part of his operation fifteen years ago. “It would make me happy for you to let me and my friend go,” she suggested, her gaze wandering, taking in any piece of information that might help her predicament.
“My daughter,” he said. “You’re free to go whenever you want.”
“And my friend?”
“No,” he said firmly. “He helped you escape.”
Karina’s hands were up at her face in frustration. She tugged at her hair, peeking out from behind her cuffs. This man had always lacked in the brain cell department. Luckily, she had inherited her mother’s intellect.
“Okay, Papa, let me go back to the dungeon. I’d like to be with my friend.”
“Very well,” he replied childishly. He moved his finger for the guards to take her. Then he stopped.
“Hang on,” he said, stopping the guard with another move of his finger. “This ‘friend’ makes you happy?”
“Yes, Papa.”
“Is he handsome?”
Karina frowned and screwed up her lips, trying to come to terms with the bizarre question. “I guess.”
“Is he a gay?”
Karina shook her head, shocked. “Erm. No. I don’t think he’s gay, Papa.”
“Well, then it’s settled. You and he will be married.” He jumped up, grinning and excited. He walked over to her and held her cheeks in his thumbs. “My little girl is getting married!”
Karina’s mouth dropped open, and she pulled away from him. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. That’s the leap you make? Dungeon to marriage?”
The demented old man shrugged. “It’s quite simple, as I see it. This man—”
“Sean,” Karina interjected.
He began again. “I want my baby to be happy. Sean makes you happy. You will marry Sean.” He pinched her cheeks and wiggled them like she was a doll or a dog. “Simple.”
Karina managed to pull away and started to protest the madness.
Calzone barely heard her. “It will be a marriage for the sector to remember. Harry!” He called over the guard that, seconds before, had been about to take Karina back to the dungeon. “Send Ricardo in here. We must start making arrangements immediately. I think we should hold it at the station church. This Saturday. It will be a wonderful event. The envy of every fairytale princess.”
Don Calzone continued to prattle. Karina rubbed her cheeks where he’d been pinching them and then wiped her face with her hands again in frustration.
“I think I preferred it better when you were just going to throw me in the dungeon,” she muttered.
“Oh, that can be arranged,” he shot back, his voice suddenly cruel. He motioned for her to be taken. “Take her back… until she realizes I just want what’s best for her.”
His voice softened again, and the optimistic excitement of a new project returned. “Hurry up and come around to this,” he told her, a finger on her chin. “There’s so much planning to do, and it would be more fun if you were up here helping me with it!”
Then, he giggled like a lunatic and sat behind his desk as his entourage came in and started the busy work of planning her wedding.
Chapter 8
Dungeon, Calzone’s offices, Bronislovas Trading Outpost, Kirox Quadrant
Her head still spinning, Karina allowed herself to be led back to her cell in the so-called dungeon.
As she and her guard approached the corridor, it suddenly dawned on her that she was probably about to see Sean. After all these years, and having just pulled the most stupid stunt of her whole existence, she was going to have to face him.
She felt the anxiety rising up in her chest. She felt embarrassed. And stupid. And wished there were some way to make everything right again, before she had to face him.
But then, this wasn’t a day where she was getting anything she wanted.
The guard pushed her forward. “Hurry up,” he grunted. “Haven’t got all day.”
Movement caught her eye in the cell to her right. She was frog-marched straight past it and back into the one she had been in before. She didn’t dare turn around to look. There was no doubt the person in there had seen her, though. She could hear the movement as he reacted.
The guard clamped the ankle restraint around her again and tugged at it. Satisfied it was secure, he turned and left, clanking the cell gate behind him and then reactivating whatever godforsaken security field they had installed with a swipe on the panel on the far wall as he left.
“Are you having as bad a day as I am?” a voice asked from the next cell. It was male and deep. She’d recognize it anywhere.
“Sean Royale,” she said slowly, wondering where the hell this conversation could possibly go. “As I live and breathe.”
There was a pause. “Well, let’s hope we can keep that living and breathing thing going. Word on the street is that folks who end up in here don’t end up doing much of that after a while.”
Karina chuckled lightly. “It’s good to hear your voice, Royale.”
“Yours, too.”
There was another awkward silence.
Sean spoke again. “Don’t suppose you have any ideas on how to get out of here?”
“I have a few,” she confessed. “None that you’d like, though.”
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
“Because just like any man, I think you value your freedom, and ironically, that’s going to be the one thing you’ll have to give up…”
* * *
“You’re kidding me?” Karina could hear Sean pacing in the next cell. “You’re saying that not only did you lure me here under false and very dangerous pretenses, but that now our only way out of this is to go along with your father’s ridiculous idea for winning his daughter back.”
Karina was tired of talking. It had taken a while to explain everything to Sean, and if she were honest, it was a relief to hear him talking. He’d been silent throughout the whole explanation.
Now he ranted. “I can’t begin to fathom what possessed you to go down this route in the first place. Why didn’t you just come to me? Tell me what she was doing?”
Karina sighed. “I thought that if I did this one thing, then she’d truly leave me alone. For good.”
Sean sighed heavily. “From what I’ve heard about her, that woman ain’t one for letting things go. I mean, case in point. She sends you to ensnare me!”
Karina sighed and covered her face with her hands again. “I know. I’m sorry!”
“I also can’t believe this guy is your father,” he huffed. The pacing continued. “Had I known that…”
“What? What would you have done? Left me here to rot?”
Sean sighed again. “I… I don’t know. Probably not.” The pacing stopped. His voice dropped. “I just wish I’d known.”
Karina rolled her eyes, lying on her back in the next cell. “Well, I wished I had a pony growing up, but we both know that all I got was the normal things a mob princess got: death and the constant threat of death.”
“Well, moping around won’t help us. If the only way out of this is to agree to his terms, then I guess that’s what we need to do.”
Karina was silent.
“Karina? You still there?”
“Of course I am. No. Wait. I just popped out for a mochaccino.”
“Sarcasm never suited you.”
“Well, neither does having my freedoms taken away from me.”
“Touché,” he said. “So, erm, before we agree to do this… tell me… you’ve kept yourself in shape, right?”
Karina’s blood started to boil. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me?” She kicked up off the bench. “I swear, Sean Royale, I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man in the fucking galaxy. Or if our lives depended on it. And as for me keeping myself in shape, get your ass in here and I’d show you how goddamn in shape I am when I rip you a new one. And another thing—”
Chuckling emanated from Sean’s cell.
Karina stopped, her need to put a fist through something somewhat tempered by only having metal bars and stone walls around. “What’s so fucking funny?”
“Nothing. I just thought I should get that one in before they released us.”
“You what?”
“Just that. It was too good of an opportunity to miss.”
“You’re just fucking with me?” she asked.
“Erm, yeah.” He paused. “Mostly.”
Karina continued to fume. It was her turn to pace. “Sean Royale, I swear the minute we’re out of this, I’m going to—”
Just then, there were footsteps coming down the corridor.
Sean whispered across to her. “Let’s just go along with it. Tell them you’re ready to speak to your father and get us out of this hellhole.”
The flunky arrived back at the bars. “Your father sent me down to see if you’ve made your mind up about cooperating yet.”
Karina stood quietly in the middle of the room, her hands clasped in front of her and her eyes lowered to the floor. “I have. And he’s right. Sean and I should get married.”
Aboard The Empress, Kirox Quadrant
Molly fidgeted in frustration. It wasn’t just on account of all the waiting around, but from all the emotions she was trying to keep a lid on, too. She thought about going and sitting somewhere to meditate. She knew that would be the right move. Or at least what Arlene would recommend.
She just felt defiant, though. Joel had fallen asleep again, and Jack and Pieter were playing some kind of game that was keeping them engrossed. She stood up, stretching her legs and back as best she could in the cramped area. Then quietly, she slipped over Joel’s outstretched legs, out into the main walkway, and up to the corridor that led to the cockpit.
She appeared in the cockpit next to Brock, who seemed to be working hard at the console panel.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
Brock jumped, letting out a small falsetto whoop of surprise. Laughing from his belly, he turned to her. “My ancestors, guuuuurl! Don’t go sneaking up on people like that!”
He had his hand on his chest as if trying to calm his heart down. Crash turned to see what all the fuss was about, and a tiny smile appeared on his lips when he saw Brock’s expression.
“So?” Molly pressed, ignoring the dramedy. “Where are we?”
Crash eyed her playfully. “What you mean to ask is: why is this taking so damn long, don’t you?”
Molly nodded sheepishly. “Well… yeah. But I didn’t want you to think I was on your case. You my boyzzzz.” She punched Brock’s arm gently, winning him over in a heartbeat.
“Yeah, yeah,” he continued. “It’s a fair question.” He jerked his thumb over in Crash’s direction. “Mister Grumpy over there has been asking me the same question… over and over.”
Crash shrugged and turned back to his controls. Molly found it hard to imagine Crash saying more than he physically needed to.
Brock pulled up a screen to show Molly what was going on. “You see, we need to retrace Scamp’s steps, but because we’ve jumped, we have no universal coordinates we can retrace. We’re having to track it in loci.”
Molly nodded. “Oh, I see. So, it’s like we do two steps this way and five steps that way… rather than go straight to point X.”
“You got it,” Brock confirmed. “So… here we are in the middle of fricking nowhere, where Sean stayed for five minutes at a standstill.”
Molly frowned. “Do we know why?”
Brock shook his head.
“Can we get eyes on outside?” she asked.
Crash hit a button and obligingly brought the front screen up to show them what was outside.
Everything was dark and blank.
Molly shuddered.
“You okay, hon?” Brock asked.
She wrapped her arms around herself. “Yeah. I just got a chill.”
Brock narrowed his eyes. “Like a cold chill? Or a realm-jumping chill?”
Molly dropped her eyes again and shuffled her feet. “I dunno. I just thought of Sean being here and wondered where he could be now… and I just got this wash of dread through me. Like he’s in a really bad place.” She shook her head. “Ignore me. Wild imagination.”
Brock watched her carefully. “No, no. I think there is something to this. I haven’t forgotten the stories of those other missions where Sean was on that planet, and you were running from the guards and could feel them coming.” He paused, his face deadly serious now. “Your realm stuff saved their lives.”
Molly continued to study the toes of her boots. “Well… anyway. We just need to get to Sean and get him home.”
Brock nodded. “Agreed.” He poked the screen he was working on. “Anyway, it looks like he moved on from here pretty quickly. Ancestors know what he was doing out here. There’s a slight ion trail, like there was a small explosion, but Scamp was undamaged, so it probably wasn’t anything significant. We’ve got one more jump to do.”
Molly bobbed her head, placing a hand on Brock’s shoulder. “Okay. I’ll leave you to get us there and get the others ready to move.” She started heading out of the cockpit.
Brock smiled. “Okay. And Molly?”
She turned back. “Yeah?”
“It’s going to be okay. Sean is a tough cookie, and we’re going to find him.”
She grinned, snapping into her best impression of how she imagined Bethany Anne might have been when she was on missions. “Yeah… and I’ll kick his ass myself when I get my hands on him!”
Brock was oblivious to the influence but laughed at her sudden display of chutzpah. “I’m sure he’ll be looking forward to that, too,” he muttered humorously as he plotted the coordinates for Emma and Crash to implement.
Bronislovas Trading Outpost, Kirox Quadrant
Sean woke up shivering. He opened his eyes and blearily looked around the cold cell.
No change there then, he figured.
Immediately, the first thoughts in his mind were of Karina.
“Karina?” he hissed urgently. “Karina?”
“What?” Her voice was laced with irritation.
“Are you there?”
As soon as the words had left his mouth, he could almost feel her eyes rolling in her head through the stone wall that separated them.
“No numb nuts, I’m upstairs eating fucking caviar.”
He sat up. “Are we alone?”
“I dunno,” she responded, her voice softening. “I guess.”
He got up and shuffled to the bars, listening carefully for any other signs of life. He glanced down at his handcuffs. He twisted his hands over and found a catch to release them.
They dropped and clanked noisily against the stone floor.
“What was that?” Karina hissed, agitated they were going to draw attention.
Sean glanced down at the cuffs on the floor and his now naked wrists. “I’ve managed to get out of my handcuffs.”
“How the hell did you manage that?”
“I don’t know. It just occurred to me I knew how to hack them. There’s a switch on the underneath side.”
He heard Karina jingling hers. “Shit, I can’t reach it,” she grunted.
He noticed a small rod of metal and immediately thought to use it as a lock pick. He picked it up and poked it around inside the lock.
“It’s okay,” Sean whispered back. “Hang tight. I’m just picking this door lock.”
Karina huffed, and the sound of movement from her side of the wall stopped. “How on Earth can you pick the lock?”
Sean shrugged, even though she couldn’t see him. “I’m not sure,” he confessed. “But… it’s totally pick-able.”
A moment later, it clicked, and the lock snapped open. He pushed against the cage door, and it swung open on its hinges.
“Holy shit, Batman! You’ve managed it!” Karina sounded impressed.
“Yeah, shh. We don’t want to draw any attention.” He slipped quietly out of the cage and replaced the door so that it didn’t bang. Skillfully and quickly, he started working on the lock on Karina’s cage. The lock yielded in seconds, and Sean pulled at the door, opening it with a slight bow and flourish of his hand.
“M’lady,” he teased, inviting her out.
Karina’s eyes lit up in delight. For a moment, Sean thought she might wrap her arms around his neck. “We need to get to the docking bay and steal a ship.”
Or maybe not…
“Let me get your cuffs first,” he said, grabbing at her wrists. He turned them over and then fiddled for a few moments. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, waiting.
He frowned. “Hang on. These aren’t the same as mine.”
Her face fell. “What? Can you still open them?”
“Yeah.” He fiddled some more. “I… no.”
Right in front of their eyes, the cuffs seemed to morph as if they had some kind of organic-technology component to them. Two metallic-looking, leaf-like pieces of material grew from the underside of her wrists and wrapped themselves around and over the original metal bracelets.
Sean’s eyes boggled as he watched this strange tech. “That’s some weird tamper-proofing going on.”
“What are we going to do?” Karina asked, her voice an octave higher as she stepped back, trying to get away from the bracelets that bound her.
His eyes still fixated on the cuffs, Sean shook his head. “We need to get you out of here. Let’s move.”
They turned to head down the passageway to the exit when the sound of footsteps started reverberating through the holding area.
“Shit!” He pushed her back against the wall and out of sight of the corridor. “Someone’s coming!”
He looked around for something to improvise with, carefully getting out of the line of sight, too. “I need a gun!” he hissed as loudly as he dared.
Karina casually produced one from her pants pocket.
Sean looked at her in disbelief as he grabbed the weapon from her restrained hands. “You’re kidding me?”
She shrugged. “I like to keep one close… for comfort.”
Sean, confused, took the gun and wiped his face quickly. “Back,” he mouthed, pushing her back farther away from the corner of the wall and then pressing himself against it out of sight, too.
The guard’s pace quickened as he approached, presumably realizing that something was wrong. Sean bided his time until the guard appeared, gun and outstretched arms first, around the corner. Without missing a beat, Sean grabbed them and turfed the cyborg over and onto his back.
The guard screamed in a slightly falsetto fashion, amusing the pair of escapees.
“Wow,” Sean commented, taking his gun off him and shoving it into his waistband. “Did you get your voice enhanced at the same time as your reaction times?”
Provoked and still shocked, the guard struggled and started shouting out. Sean stomped on his throat, silencing him and preoccupying his hands as he gasped for breath. Sean felt a slight crunch under his boot.
“There goes his trachea,” he mused grimly.
A second later, another guard appeared at the end of the passageway, this time shooting as he approached. Sean didn’t hesitate. He returned fire, distracted for a moment. When he looked back at the guard under his foot, he realized that Karina had shot the guard through the chest. “Was that really necessary?” he scolded her.
Karina shrugged, dangling yet another pistol she’d managed to keep hidden from their captors. “How else are we going to get out of here?” she shot back. “You wanna tie them all up as we go?”
Sean sighed, laser fire still coming down the corridor from at least two more guards. He pressed himself against the wall. “Honestly, women!” he chuffed casually, despite them still being under fire. “Hang on…”
Karina stepped back, watching Sean as he cockily fired his own weapon back down the corridor, allowing his cyborg reflexes and spatial memory to pick their attackers off one by one, with surgical precision.
“Ugh.”
“Ugh.”
“Ugh.” Slump.
He looked around the wall to check he’d got them all and then came out of hiding, helping Karina step over the dead body. “Okay, let’s move.”
“How did you—”
“I’m a very good shot,” he said flatly, moving quickly ahead, gun up again, sweeping their path.
Karina followed. They headed out to the elevator. Sean did a quick check around and, deciding it was their best option, hit the call button.
Karina eyed him critically. “You realize there are going to be a bunch of guards in this elevator?”
Sean nodded sharply and stood to the side. He gestured for her to do the same. The elevator doors slid open, and guards armed to the hilt started piling out. Sean effortlessly picked them off one by one.
Karina almost looked impressed, he noticed.
He stepped inside, seeing one guy already collapsed against the back of the tin can.
Karina frowned, hands on hips. “What happened to him?”
“Bonehead must have forgotten this is bulletproof,” he said, tapping the wall of the anti-grav elevator cart. “He must have tried to fire at us through the walls! Like I said: bonehead.”
The pair stepped inside.
Karina hit the buttons to get them to the lower docking level while Sean pushed the bodies out of the car and then out of the way of the doors.
The doors slid closed, trapping them for the duration of their journey.
Sean watched in mounting anticipation as the lights lit up, one floor number after another, taking them lower and lower in the space station. He checked his pulse discreetly so that Karina wouldn’t notice. It was steady.
His shoulders relaxed.
I’m right at home, under fire, escaping with a damsel in distress, he thought to himself.
The elevator stopped, and the pair readied themselves, pointing their weapons at the opening doors.
The doors opened, revealing a surprised family of Skaine: two grown-ups and two kids. Sean frowned, cocked his head, then lowered his weapon. “Sorry,” he grunted, stepping past them and into the spartan corridor. Karina followed, smiling and bobbing her head politely.
“Mommy, why are they carrying guns, and why is that girl in handcuffs?” a little voice asked as they passed the family by.
Karina could hear one of the grown-ups explaining to the innocent: “You’ll know when you’re older.”
As soon as they were both clear of the family, they started jogging, heading down the corridor, looking for any signs that would point them toward the docking bay.
“You know how to hot-jack a ride?” Karina called in a loud whisper through the concrete corridors.
Sean turned back to her. “Yeah, I can.” His tone was just as cocky as ever.
I’m on a damn roll!
Karina was panting now, as she had to run twice as hard to keep up. “How do you know how to do that?”
Sean hesitated. “I… I don’t remember,” he faltered. “But I know I can!” he added confidently.
As long as my amazing luck doesn’t run out.
“Ok, hot shot,” she called. “This way. I think this is the docking bay that family came from. We could do with something without military grade encryption.”
Sean had been a couple of paces ahead. He had to stop suddenly and turn back to make the turn she had just taken. He heard a door slam somewhere in the corridors. Seconds later, there were footsteps behind them. “Shit, I think we’ve been found!” he announced.
“Fuck!” Karina hissed. “Maybe we can lose them in the docking bay.”
Just then, a team of armed guards appeared from an adjoining corridor ahead of them.
Karina slowed her pace to a walk. Sean did the same, then turned to see another pack of cyborgs with guns catching up to them.
“Any ideas?” Karina asked, her attitude suddenly nonexistent.
Sean shook his head. He could feel tension rising in his chest. Suddenly, without any other warning cues, he felt his arms and legs go dead. He was paralyzed to the spot. The teams were closing in on them, in front and behind.
And they looked angry.
As in, murderously angry.
Karina put her hands up as best she could, still being cuffed. “Sean? What do we do? Sean?”
Sean couldn’t move. He tried to speak and found it hard to even move his jaw.
This was it. This was how the life of Sean Royale ends…
“Sean.”
“Sean?”
“Sean!”
“Are you asleep? I’m talking to you.”
Sean felt himself waking up, adrenaline shooting through his system. He tried to move and found himself uncomfortably slouched on a hard floor with his back against something hard. His hands were cuffed again.
He opened his eyes to find himself back in Don Calzone’s study. He was sitting on the floor across from Karina, who was still leafing through catalogs.
“I need an answer, Sean. Should we go with the petrilia pink or the skylight blue napkins?”
It all came rushing back to him. This was their escape plan. And it was almost too much to bear.
So much for waking up from a nightmare, he thought to himself.
Chapter 9
Calzone Offices, Bronislovas Trading Outpost, Kirox Quadrant
“Ohhhhhhh,” Karina cooed as if she were in seventh heaven. “This. Is. Incredible!”
Sean called over to her from the corner. “It’s cake, Karina. How good can it be?”
Karina put another piece into her mouth, savoring the sensations. She picked up the card that lay next to it. “Says here, it’s specifically designed as an aphrodisiac for most mammalian species.”
Without even looking up from his console, Vito gruffed from across the room. “What does it do to the reptilians? I don’t want them keeling over at the reception. Bad for business.”
Karina kept reading. “Doesn’t say. Though, I don’t suppose they’d be allowed to sell it if it were toxic to them.”
Vito grunted something under his breath and carried on with what he was doing.
“I’ll make a note to find out, though,” she muttered, glancing over anxiously, trying to appease him. She tapped a note on her holo.
She looked over the table, piled high with cake samples and catalogs, and then at Sean. He was slouched on the floor, back against the sofa, his hands in cuffs, and looking more tormented than if her father had actually ordered up someone to torture him with tools. Or waterboarding.
She smiled. “Looks like they can make this one look like a spaceship. I think that would be quite romantic, don’t you?”
Sean sighed. “How is a spaceship wedding cake romantic?”
“You know, because that’s how you rescued me.”
Sean huffed. “Why don’t we just go the whole hog and have some little sugared figurines made up of you and me? You can be all bound, and I can be carrying you off into the spaceship cake.” He brightened as he talked. Making digs at her seemed to perk him up.
The Don reeled around from his console. “We’ll have none of that!” he ordered sternly. “Need I remind you that this is my daughter you’re talking about? Have you already forgotten your place?”
Sean’s boredom got the better of his patience. “How could I forget?” he growled back. “These handcuffs are a constant reminder!”
Karina glanced from one to the other, like a spectator at a tennis match. Quickly, she intervened. “Here Sean, try this one,” she told him, walking over to him with a plate with some cake samples on it.
“I’d rather try the champagne,” he grumbled.
She shook her head, pushing a forkful of cake at him. “That won’t be here until later. They’re importing samples from the Furuga District.”
“Well, I could drink anything. Anything that will help me deal with this!” He gestured at his bound wrists and then to the room in general.
Karina squatted down next to him. “Come on,” she cajoled. “It’s not that bad.”
She leaned in closer, lowering her voice. “You don’t want to anger him. He might easily decide to put us both back into his dungeon.”
“At least get him to take these cuffs off,” he pleaded. “They’re uncomfortable.”
Karina nodded. “Daddy?”
She waited for her father to look up. “What, princess? Daddy’s working.”
“Daddy,” she repeated coyly. “Please, may we take Sean’s handcuffs off? I promise he’ll be good.”
Vito thought for a moment and then his expression hardened. “You know we can’t do that until you’re married,” he ruled.
Sean couldn’t keep his mouth shut any longer. “You’re going to have me stand at the altar in cuffs? Won’t your guests be a bit suspicious?”
Vito rocked back in his console chair. “No, not at all,” he said casually. “They’re used to it.”
Karina looked resigned. “He’s right,” she agreed. “Once, he had a guy killed at his own funeral. It was messy. Blood all over the casket.”
Sean’s mind whirred, trying to process what she’d just said. “You mean…”
“Yeah. Announced the funeral and had him lie down in the box after he’d said goodbye to his family and friends.”
Sean’s mouth dropped open. “That’s… awful!”
Vito sat up. “Actually, I was being kind. I gave him a chance to say goodbye to everyone. When does anyone ever get that opportunity?”
Sean tried to cover his face with his retrained hands. “But he knew he was going to die. And so did everyone else!”
Vito protested casually. “It was the humane thing to do. He’d served me well for twenty years.”
Sean couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Shit,” he muttered, making eye contact with Karina, who seemed to have nothing to offer the conversation. “I’d hate to see what you do to your enemies.”
Karina suddenly burst out laughing, shooting crumbs all over the carpet in front of them. “He used to joke about having them married off to his wayward daughter!”
Sean glared. “Well, I can see now that that makes sense.”
“Oh, come on,” she said, nudging him playfully. “Don’t be such a party pooper. This is going to be fun. After we’ve chosen the cake, we still have so many decisions to make, like flowers and table ornaments and…”
Sean had already stopped listening and was imagining he was back in his nightmare, trying to figure out how to break out of the corridor.
Because anything, including certain death from a team of assassins, was better than this…
Paige’s office, Safehouse, Gaitune-67
The safehouse beyond her office was deadly silent, offering no assistance to the dilemma the pair faced.
Paige sat quietly, poised at her desk, waiting for Gareth Jones to respond. Even through the holo medium, she could see that he was perplexed. The normally friendly, smiling eyes looked stressed and strained now as he considered the information she had just shared with him.
“I must admit,” he said finally, “I’m somewhat baffled by this.”
“Me too,” Paige agreed. “I’ve called around a few other admin departments at similar institutions. No one has heard of an investigation like this before.”
“I just don’t get it. Maybe it’s a clerical error? They have no reason to investigate.” He stroked his chin. “And they didn’t tell you anything else?”
Paige shook her head.
Gareth sighed and leaned back in his anti-grav chair. “There’s no reason for it. I was extra careful with the paperwork in having the university registered as a place of education. All the filings have been done on time and by the book. I suppose…” he paused, as if hardly daring to speak the words, “the issue may be political in nature.”
Paige frowned but waited for him to explain.
Gareth shrugged and leaned forward again, this time with a twist in his lips as if he were in pain. “It’s no secret that the content of our courses is controversial. Promoting peace and cooperation on a planet-wide scale alone is going to hit a lot of industries hard.”
Paige pursed her lips. “I was afraid that was the conclusion we might be left with. Have we any way to find out for sure?”
Gareth shook his head. “Not really. I can put a few calls in and see if any of my contacts have heard anything. It’ll all be hearsay though, and there’s no way to use anything I learn to stop it.”
Paige wrinkled her nose. “Bummer. So, anything we can do about stopping it any other way? Through the courts perhaps?”
Gareth scratched his face, thinking. “I suppose… You see, the thing is, because this hasn’t happened before, there is nothing to compare it to. And so, there is no precedent. By extension, there is no precedent to getting it overturned, either. Bottom line, since it is a private facility with customers and so on, the government will always be able to argue it has a right to protect its citizens.”
“So, we can’t stop them?” Paige’s spine slumped as she felt the exhaustion of the whole matter catch up to her. She’d spent all morning on calls trying to find some loophole or way out of the investigation.
“We can try,” Gareth said quietly. Paige noticed the lack of optimism in his voice, though. “I’ll get someone onto it, but I think realistically, they’re going to do what they want to do.”
Paige had to know. “And what do you think their endgame is?”
“Worst case? Shut us down.”
“And best case is that they get something they can use to manipulate us?” Paige asked.
Gareth nodded grimly. His complexion was looking pasty now. “Sounds like you know how the bigger picture gets played.”
Paige tried to smile. “I’ve had some experience.”
Gareth nodded gently. “Okay. Let’s stay in touch. I’ll let you know as soon as I find anything at this end, but as it stands, it looks like they’re going to end up doing that investigation. All we can hope then is that they don’t end up finding anything.”
Paige held her hand up to wave. “Okay, then. Thanks, Gareth. We’ll be in touch.”
The call ended, and Paige sat staring into space for several moments, replaying the conversation in her mind. She closed the open holoscreens, her eye catching again on the holocomm from Info Corp. Her stomach sank.
This is too much to deal with, she thought to herself as she grabbed her empty mocha mug and headed out of the door, with the full weight of the university and her company on her shoulders.
Aboard The ArchAngel, Sark System
Carol stomped her way along the corridors of The ArchAngel, her arm held by her husband and escorted by a pair of armed guards.
“Oh, for goodness sake, this is ridiculous!” she spat, struggling to release herself from Philip’s grip. He held firm.
“Come on, where am I going to run to?” she insisted.
Philip eyed her carefully. He maintained a cool exterior. The exterior she had thought of as sexy when he was out on missions. Right now, though, she could see the cracks appearing. She could tell he was having second thoughts. She also suspected he was somewhat embarrassed to be doing this. Whether that was in the face of the Federation, or her, she couldn’t quite figure out.
“Just stop struggling,” he told her firmly. “We’ve all made the mistake of underestimating you before.” He broke into a tiny smile before adding, “You should take that as a compliment.”
Carol stopped struggling. “Look, let me just walk, and I’ll make this easy. We don’t have to be… uncivilized.”
Philip sighed and released her. She continued to walk but straightened herself up and corrected her posture, now walking with dignity. Philip shook his head to himself. She was determined and proud, if nothing else…
Carol continued talking, by way of a thank you. “You realize I despise this man,” she muttered quietly so that the escorts couldn’t hear. Or so she assumed.
Philip glanced at her briefly, acknowledging the statement but saying nothing.
Eventually, they arrived on the corridor they needed to be on, and the guards took them into the office. The door swooshed open, allowing them to step through into a rather comfortable looking office suite. Lance appeared, ambling casually from his side office.
“Philip, Carol, good of you to come,” he greeted them, stepping forward. Philip and Lance shook hands and exchanged pleasantries.
Carol glared at Lance before holding her bound wrists up. “I’d shake your hand, but it seems my husband would rather I stayed restrained for the duration of my kidnapping.”
Lance wandered over to her. “Hello, Carol. I’m sorry about the methods. I just needed to be sure to get you up here. And I know we have a difficult relationship, so I didn’t think you’d come easily.”
He glanced at Philip, who remained silent, watching as Lance took the blame for his methods.
Carol straightened her posture indignantly. Philip imagined the hackles on the back of her neck going up as she spoke. “By difficult relationship, you mean that you admit that you’re an overbearing nincompoop who thinks he can throw his Federation authority all over the place and expects everyone else to just fall in line?”
Lance smiled coolly as he wandered over to his drinks tray. He poured a drink for each of them and handed them out. Carol, surprisingly, took hers gracefully, despite having her hands bound.
“I hear you’ve been monitoring Molly,” he said, more as an opening statement than a question.
“That’s right,” she said. “I have a duty to my planet to monitor all threats. And as a parent, I need to make sure my daughter isn’t caught up in any Federation… shenanigans… that are going to get her killed.”
“Well, that’s unfortunate because it looks like you’re having the exact opposite effect.” Lance regarded her sternly. “Your daughter has gone off to the Kirox Quandrant, where we have absolutely no influence, I might add, in an attempt to find Sean Royale, who is now missing and probably dead. Want to explain what you know of this?”
Carol’s eyes narrowed, and her face darkened. “That Sean Royale is the reason we’re having this conversation. I know his type. He’s bad news. And he’s all wrapped up with Molly. I’m just protecting my daughter.”
Lance glanced over at Philip. “What exactly did she do?”
Philip shuffled his feet and took a swig of the Yollin Brandy Lance had just handed him. “Reading between the lines, I think Carol sent an ex-operative off to ensnare him. Get him married so that he’s out of the picture and keep him that way.”
“I see,” Lance mulled.
Carol protested, “I found chatter that points to specific threats against Molly during my investigations, I’ll have you know. People coming at her through the university.”
Philip’s eyebrows jumped in surprise. He said nothing.
Carol continued. “If I hadn’t been keeping an eye on things, we would never know, and then where would she be? Having to fake her own death… again. Or worse!”
Philip stood quietly, watching the interaction play out, wondering if Carol was just spouting paranoid conclusions… or whether something was actually afoot. He regarded Lance carefully, looking for signs of him knowing about these threats. The man wasn’t giving anything away. He remained his normally calm and collected self.
Lance didn’t ask any questions, either. Instead, he waved a finger to one of the guards. “Carol, how about you go with Bill and relax for a little while so I can talk with your husband?”
Carol looked at the two guards waiting to escort her. “What, you’re dismissing me?” she asked in a raised voice. “You have my husband break all kinds of laws and vows and bring me up here to—”
One of the guards went to take her by the arm. She pulled away violently, then composed herself. “I can walk,” she said angrily. And then without another word, she strode out of the room, followed by her two escorts.
“Where are they taking her?” Philip asked nervously.
Lance waved a hand. “Just somewhere to cool off. Let’s you and I go and grab some dinner. I’ve not eaten all day.” He closed down some holos on his desk and then headed across the office suite to Philip, before inviting him to step out of the door ahead of him.
Philip walked ahead, his mind churning. He glanced back at Lance as they stepped out into the corridor. “Sir, what if there really are other threats against Molly? In her position, Carol could help. And I’ve no doubt she’s looking out for her.”
Lance nodded, then put a finger to his lips. “This is classified, but we will talk,” he promised as he led the way down the corridor. “Let’s go eat.”
* * *
Philip shifted his food around his plate, barely registering that he should be eating. “I feel bad knowing you’ve got her locked up somewhere,” he confessed to Lance, who seemed perfectly composed and content.
“Locked up?” Lance repeated. “Oh, no. I’m sure she’s fine. ADAM, give us a visual on Mrs. Bates please.”
A holoscreen pulled itself up in the middle of the dining table. It showed a spa setting, complete with a small pool and hot tubs around.
“Punch in,” Lance commanded.
The viewer zoomed in on two women sitting with face masks on sun loungers. Philip recognized the type of drink they had from the shape of the glasses. “That’s Carol?” he asked.
Lance nodded, putting another forkful of food in his mouth.
“And the other lady?”
“Barb Kurns,” Lance relayed. “The two of them met at some counterintelligence conference or other. Thought Carol might be more forthcoming to someone who wasn’t me.”
Philip raised his eyebrows and then nodded. “And after a couple of martinis…” he observed.
“Quite,” Lance agreed, a mischievous glimmer in his eye.
“So, you really did send her to cool off…”
“Yeah. Those women, they’ll blow off steam gossiping and sharing and then be able to have a reasonable conversation.”
“So, you think that Carol actually has something?”
Lance nodded, glancing around to make sure there was no one else within earshot. “I do,” he confided. “I’d like to see the intel she’s uncovered, but we have our own suspicions about something in play.”
“Like what?”
“Well, we’ve noticed big shifts in the market. Moves of money… without any news or triggers that would influence market dynamics.”
Philip frowned, placing his fork down. “You suspect insider trading?”
“Oh, no… well, there may be some of that. But it more suggests to us that there is something else going on behind the scenes that we’re not fully privy to.”
“Okay. You say that like there’s more?”
“There is,” Lance confirmed. “We’ve noticed a certain rearrangement in the military. Like promotions happening that are… idiosyncratic. Appointments that are unexpected from our models. It suggests a changing political landscape and a shift in power.”
“In favor of?”
“Well, that’s what we’re in the process of figuring out. We haven’t been able to pinpoint it, which is why it’s important for us to look at whatever data Carol has collected.”
Philip’s eyes were alight with interest. “So, you think there is a movement happening?”
“I do. And we need to be ready for it. You and Carol have served your planet well. You’ve been loyal to the common good. I feel we can trust you. And as ambassadors for your planet, I hope we can work together more closely to deal with this potential threat.”
Philip’s eyes glazed over as he looked at his plate. “You realize I’m retired.”
Lance smiled. “Yes. I know that feeling well too, myself. But there is more to do. And your daughter is undoubtedly going to be at the center of whatever needs doing… so…” He kept eating for a few minutes, giving Philip time to think.
“Anyway,” Lance said eventually, “I figured that you and I were better off out of the picture for now. Given that she detests me, and given you kidnapped her to bring her up here, I thought it best.”
Philip nodded and started eating. “Yes, very clever,” he agreed.
“We’ll just let Barb do her thing,” he said, closing the holoscreen and checking the time on his holo. “She’ll mellow her out. We just need to wait.”
Chapter 10
Aboard The Empress, Glom Space station, Kirox Quadrant
Molly stood in the center of the lounge, guns strapped to her legs, in mission-mode. “Okay, folks, listen up. What we know is that Scamp last docked here for four days, arriving with Sean, leaving without him. We know that Sean was here. He might still be, so we’re looking for anything that can give us a clue as to his whereabouts now.”
She nodded at Pieter. “Pieter, you and I are going to hack the station’s security feeds and scan for any footage of him.”
She looked to the others one by one as she issued the orders. “The rest of you, head out there and blend in. No gunfights. No fisticuffs. Just blend. And see what you can find out. Do people get twitchy if you ask about a human cyborg out here? Has anyone seen him? Have a story… like he is your friend or brother. Try and keep any mention of the Federation, or our military operation and capabilities, out of it. This is enemy territory potentially. We have no idea what we’re walking in to, and this is a damn long way to get help from the Federation out here.”
She noticed the solemn looks on their faces. “And one more thing,” she added. “If anyone is capable of finding Sean alive and well, it’s you. You’re the best friends a soldier could have. And the most capable team that he’s ever known. He told me that once.” Her eyes drifted off as if remembering, and then she smirked. “Albeit, he was drinking at the time…”
Everyone chuckled.
“But he meant it,” she continued. “He has faith in you. And so do I. Now, let’s go get our guy and bring him home.” She clapped her hands in a “round em up and move out” way, and everyone hopped to, slinging their gear on their backs and moving to the exit.
“Crash, you stay here and run point.”
Crash responded from the doorway and not over the intercom as Molly had expected. “Yes, sir!” he called.
She turned, smiled at him, and then followed the rest of the team off the boat.
There was a muddle of activity as everyone got their bearings. The docking bay was quiet, but there seemed to be many doors and nothing was signposted. It took a few moments for them to find their way to the main corridor that would let them out and onto the station, and then deliberately, they broke up into small teams.
Joel stuck with Molly. “I’ve got your six,” he told her definitively.
Molly was about to argue and then had a better idea. “How about you follow Pieter and me at a distance, in case we run into trouble? Then you’re not already accounted for in an attack.”
Joel bobbed his head. “Yeah. Good thinking.”
She smiled, wanting to tell him how grateful she was for his extra care and attention. But she didn’t know what to say. Particularly since Pieter was still in earshot. “Okay,” she managed. “Let’s move out, Pieter!”
Pieter scrambled to fold away a holoscreen he had been checking and fidgeted with the pack on his back. No doubt he was carrying all kinds of tech they wouldn’t need. But Molly was glad that he came prepared.
She strode out along the corridor, following the thoroughfare that the others had already disappeared down. Pieter hurried after her. Joel waited a short time and then followed at a safe distance.
“I managed to take a peek at the general layout,” Pieter told Molly, his voice as low as he could make it but still have her hear him. “If I had to guess, I’d say their central hub was going to be on one of the top floors, but near the center of the base.”
Molly nodded. “Let’s see what Oz can find.”
Oz responded almost immediately in their implants. “Pieter was pretty accurate. They’re one corridor over from the central concourse. Floor Twenty.”
Molly kept walking, following the flow of people into the main living spaces of the ship. Her eyes darted discreetly, looking for signposts and clues to help them get to their destination.
“Don’t suppose you can just tap them from where we are? Over their XtraNet?”
“I could. But it will take more time to get to the video footage. I’d be much quicker if you can get one of Pieter’s hacking dongles into a port in one of the servers.”
Molly sighed. “Nothing can ever be easy.”
Pieter smiled. “It will be once we get this bit out of the way. Promise.”
Molly shook her head. “Don’t jinx it, dude.”
Pieter chuckled. “You never struck me as the superstitious kind!”
“I wasn’t… until I started falling through realms and realized that nothing is within my control.”
Pieter stopped laughing and went quiet, processing the implications of what she’d been through. “I, erm… I’d never thought of it like that.”
Molly shrugged. “It’s okay. Come on, I think that’s an elevator over there.” She pointed to an area where people were milling. There were all kinds of species around. She noticed a couple of Zyhn and a whole bunch she didn’t recognize. There were even a few humans, which surprised her, them being this far out from what she assumed was human civilization.
They approached the knot of activity and confirmed there was a bay of anti-grav elevators taking people between floors. They waited their turn and eventually got into one that would take them to Floor Twenty. Squishing in next to some rather indelicate creatures that smelled like sewage, they held their breath and tried to avoid eye contact in case anyone noticed their reaction.
Finally, it was their floor. The bad-smelling guys had gotten off the stop before them, but Pieter and Molly still tried not to communicate until they were off the elevator and away into the concourse.
“Ahh, man, there are some weird-ass creatures out here!” Pieter hissed.
Molly smirked discreetly. Though she agreed about the uncomfortable smell, it wasn’t time for a debate on tolerance and acceptance. “This way,” she muttered, moving off in the direction Oz had told her.
Pieter scurried after her, realizing how long her legs were. I’ve never noticed that before, he mused to himself, completely distracted from the mission briefly.
There weren’t quite as many people on this floor, and it seemed like it might hold offices rather than the high streets and trading markets these space stations were normally known for. Molly guessed it was probably a station administration floor.
She made a beeline for a set of double doors which took them onto an even quieter corridor. She walked quickly but as stealthily as she could. Arriving at their destination, she leaned gently against the third door along, pressing down on the handle. It was locked.
Oz. Bit of help here? Can you override the door lock?
One sec.
She glanced furtively down the corridor. Pieter knelt down and pretended to be fixing his boot strap.
Something clicked in the door, and Molly pushed again. The door opened, and she slipped inside, followed by Pieter.
Pieter watched, everything happening in slow motion. He hadn’t considered that there would be guards in a server room. But then, as he took in the scene, it was obvious that it was also the control room. One of the guards was Skaine. He only guessed this from some pictures in a Federation presentation he’d flicked through during his induction. He was tall and mean-looking, with full body armor and blue skin.
The other two were human, but enhanced with robotic attachments and overpumped muscles. Cyborgs. Pieter’s mind told him to reach for his weapon. But his arms were slow to obey. He felt his muscles freeze up.
As he fought his own paralysis, he also watched Molly react effortlessly and rapidly. Not only had she already slipped her guns from her holsters, but she’d bumped them on each of her arms. He guessed she was knocking the safeties off.
Then she fired.
Pop. Pop. Bang.
Graceful. Quiet.
The three guards went down.
All in the same stride, she moved forward and busied herself with the panels. She was talking to him, but he couldn’t hear her. His hearing was muffled, and everything was still happening in slow motion. Except his thinking.
She needed something from him.
She was looking directly at him now. Asking him a question. Suddenly, time snapped back to normal.
“Are you okay, Pieter?”
“Yeah… sorry. Yeah, I’m fine… I…”
“I need the dongle for Oz,” Molly said. Pieter got the sense this wasn’t the first time she had asked.
“Oh, right.” He rummaged in his backpack, remembering he’d put it somewhere safe and accessible. A second later, he realized it was in his pants pocket. He pulled it out and handed it over to her, fumbling every move.
Molly took the drive and plugged it into the computer, hitting holoscreens and moving the code to help Oz.
A moment later, she pulled the drive out again and got up. “Time to go.”
Pieter was still dazed. “Don’t we want to look at the footage?”
Molly was already halfway to the door. “Not here. Oz is into the system now and can work over the XtraNet.”
Pieter mouthed “Oh” and then realized he needed to get the hell out of there, too. He turned on his heels and followed Molly’s atmosuit down to the elevators again.
“What’s going on with you?” she whispered under her breath as they awaited the anti-grav cart’s arrival.
“Sorry. I erm… I think the technical term is I lost my shit.”
Molly smiled at him and threw her arm around his shoulders. “You did great, fella. Field work is always a bit intense.”
There was no one about. Pieter blurted out what was on his mind. “Those guards. You took them out without even pausing. Before I even knew what was happening!” Despite his whisper, his voice was about two octaves higher than normal.
Molly shrugged. “Training. Plus, I’ve been under fire a lot more than you have.”
Pieter watched the cart arrive at their level. “Did you… kill them?”
Molly shook her head and showed him the settings on the gun. He bobbed his head, understanding now what she’d done when she whacked them on her arms before firing. It wasn’t the safety she was knocking off. She was adjusting the settings down to stun.
“Hang on then,” he whispered, suddenly putting it all together. “How long have we got before they wake up?”
Molly stuck her bottom lip out. “Dunno… maybe… ten minutes?”
Pieter’s mouth dropped open.
Molly chuckled and closed it again for him with a gentle finger under his chin.
The elevator arrived, and the doors opened to reveal Joel standing there, looking amused with a holo up as if he were reading something. “Everything okay?” he asked casually.
Molly nodded. “All fine. We need to get out of here soon, though.” She and Pieter stepped into the cart.
Joel noticed Pieter’s normally pale complexion was positively gray. He put a hand on his shoulder in support, and the elevator doors closed behind them to whisk them back down to the market concourse.
“Guess we better hope the others found something then,” Joel said wryly. He narrowed his eyes at Molly. “Did you just kill someone?”
“No, that’s the hurry,” she explained. “They’re going to wake up.”
Joel shrugged. “If you had, then all hell would break loose trying to find a killer on base. Good call.”
Molly tilted her head and then watched out of the window as the elevator descended.
Base conference room, Gaitune-67
Maya flicked excitedly between one holoscreen to another, comparing results. The audio in the conference room was playing an archived news report about the Newstainment takeover. She lifted her gaze from the screens only when she heard Paige’s high heels announcing her arrival at the door.
Maya grinned. “How you doing?” she asked brightly.
Paige shook her head. “Not as well as you, it seems.” She was carrying two mocha cups. She headed over to Maya’s side of the table and placed one down in front of her. “Extra frothy, extra hot.” She smiled.
“Thanks, hon!” Maya pulled the lid off and poked her nose into the cup, savoring the aroma. Remembering the recording playing in the background, she poked at a screen and paused it.
“What you listening to?” Paige asked.
“Newstainment takeover,” Maya explained, realizing the mocha was too hot to drink straight away. “Turns out, it was a hostile takeover. Info Corp bought up just shy of fifteen percent of the shares in the open market before they made the approach. Timing was bad too. The Newstainment group released a bad earnings report, and then a series of really bad news reports dropped their share price. Made it easy for Info Corp to swoop in and pick up the company for a song.”
Paige pulled out one of the anti-grav chairs. Her skin was gray again, despite taking the previous night off. “Well, mine isn’t a publicly owned company, so they can’t try any of that shit with me.”
Maya could tell that Paige was thinking about the other ways someone with money and power might be able to get to her. It wasn’t going to be productive to contemplate that right now, though. She stayed on track. “So, I did some more digging on Info Corp.”
Paige seemed to gather her focus and looked directly at Maya, giving her her full attention. “What did you find?”
“Well, it looks like Info Corp is indeed a shelf company, as I suspected.”
“You mean a shell company?”
Maya shook her head decisively. “Nope. A shelf company, my non-criminally-minded friend. It’s a company that has history but no traceable activity. Cultivated and filed for years and years until it’s sold to someone dodgy for dodgy activities. Criminals use them to make a company look legit to anyone who isn’t looking too carefully. But there are telltale signs. Add into the mix that apart from funding the accounts and a few spurious transactions, Info Corp only started buying up shares in other companies months ago.”
Paige frowned. “How could you possibly know that? They won’t have filed any accounts yet, if that’s the case… and how did you see their transactions?”
Maya waved her hand. “Ways. You don’t need to know the details. But,” she added, the investigative journalist glint back in her eyes, “the most interesting bit is where I traced the source of the funds to.”
Paige leaned forward, clearly moved by Maya’s enthusiasm. “Tell me,” she pressed.
Maya grinned. “It’s a privately held fund called the Northern Clan of Cambodian.”
“Sounds Ogg.”
“It is,” Maya confirmed. “Money from a few of the wealthiest clans out there.”
Paige frowned. “So, we’ve got Ogg money wanting to influence affairs in Estaria?”
Maya nodded. “Seems so.”
“What do we know about them?”
“Not much. Their site is sparse. Vague even.”
“You think you might be able to get some real intel on these guys?”
Maya tilted her head and looked back at her screen as if assessing the problem. “I can give it a good try.”
“Okay great.” Paige pulled up her own holoscreens. “I’ll see what I can find out about the other acquisitions in the group.”
The pair were quiet as they worked away for a few minutes. Paige took a sip of her mocha and then seemed to have a thought. “Hey, Maya?”
“Yeah?” Maya didn’t look up right away. Then she did.
Paige’s face looked taut with stress again. “You know, your guy at Newstainment might have some theories. Think we can reach out to him?”
Maya bit her bottom lip. “It’s risky. I mean, I’m not meant to be around anymore.” She thought for a moment more. “But if anyone is going to have an inside beat on it, he would. Lemme think about how to loop him in. It might be a case of having to show up on his doorstep to avoid raising any flags in the comms.”
Paige nodded. “Yeah. Of course. And I can do the door-stepping if that’s safer, too.”
Maya bobbed her head, and the pair fell silent again, poking at their holoscreens, trying to figure out what they’d stumbled upon.
Glom Space station, Kirox Quadrant
Jack sat in the bar across the street from the barber’s shop. Legs crossed in a ladylike way and her hair down, she could almost pass as a civilian.
Almost.
The waitress put her beer on the table, along with the bill.
“What happened over there?” Jack asked, nodding at a broken table shoved in one corner.
The waitress rolled her eyes. “Some kind of kidnapping.”
Jack frowned. “Someone was kidnapped?”
“Yeah. Some girl. Cyborgs. Wasn’t my shift, though.” She walked away, completely disinterested in sharing the story.
Jack hit her comm and reported it to Joel.
“Okay, be ready to leave in a few,” he responded into her audio implant. “Molly and Pieter are on their way back down with me now. Where’s Brock?”
“Well, he’s in the middle of an edge up,” she said, peering out the window across the street and into the barber’s shop.
“A what?”
“An edge up.”
“Come again?”
“He’s in the barber shop. He’s almost done.”
“Can you get word to him that we need to leave?”
“Not without being suspicious. I can tell him through his comm, but if he’s talking to someone, he won’t be able to answer. And we kinda don’t want to spook whomever he’s pumping for intel.”
“Okay. Do what you can. Meet us back at the newsstand before the dock corridor.”
“Roger that,” Jack said quietly, clicking the bill against her holo scanner to pay it.
She sat for another few moments, drinking her beer, before she surreptitiously hit her implant to speak with Brock.
* * *
Brock heard the call coming in. He pretended to scratch an itch behind his ear.
“Molly and Pieter have what they need. We need to move soon.”
Brock double clicked the implant, still pretending to scratch and then disconnected the call. He knew out of anyone on the team, Jack was most likely to understand the acknowledgment.
“So, what do you think happened to him?” Brock asked, continuing his conversation with the barber as he tidied up the last bit of hair from his neck.
“I don’t know for sure. Word on the street is that he’s not going to get away from the Don that easily. Not again.”
“Where is he now, then?”
The barber sucked air through his teeth, grimacing. “Well, if he’s not in shackles, he’ll be dead. That’s for sure. Once the boss sets his mind to something, that’s it. Game over.”
Brock tried not to let his concern show. “So, you think he’s got him holed up somewhere then?”
“Well, we know the big event is going to be happening at the weekend. And it will happen at the big church over on the trading post.”
Brock carefully took mental notes, putting together the clues. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” the barber continued talking. “I hear it’s all going down at high noon. It’s going to be quite the occasion. All the local criminal families are being invited to see it.”
“To see what?”
“You know…” The barber drew his finger across his throat. “Like I said. Game over.”
Brock’s eyes widened. “Where do you think he’s being held until then?”
“Not sure. Probably on the same outpost, though. I mean, there are all the preparations to do, and frankly, when you’ve got something like that coming up, there isn’t much else you should be doing elsewhere, right?” He chuckled, slapping Brock on the shoulder as if he’d just cracked the funniest joke in the world. Then, he reached up to his collar, peeled off the gown, and allowed his customer out of his seat.
Brock, stunned, got up. He dusted himself down and headed over to the cashier. “Right. Of course. Thank you.”
He paid for the haircut and, half dazed, ambled out into the street. He saw Jack coming out of the restaurant across the way and met her on the street.
“This way,” she muttered discreetly, leading the way back to the rendezvous point.
Brock followed, eager to share his news as soon as it was safe.
* * *
Brock moved quickly down the corridor, trying to keep pace with Jack who seemed overly agitated.
“Hey,” he called quietly. “Slow down! What’s going on?”
Jack slowed just long enough for him to hear her speak. “Two station guards were talking into their earpieces and then looked our way out on the street. They’re following us.”
Brock felt a shot of adrenaline plow through his system. “Shit.”
“Exactly. We need to move.”
With that, she increased her pace, making it more difficult for Brock to keep up. “By my ancestors, if I get out of this alive, I’ll spend more time in the gym. I promise!”
He pushed his legs as fast as they could move without breaking out into a run. Jack disappeared around a corner ahead of him. He rounded it a few seconds later to see Molly, Pieter, and Joel waiting anxiously by the newsstand in the corner of a crossroads to several corridors leading to various docks. Molly saw him arrive and started moving the others to the next corridor.
Brock approached. “They’re right behind me,” he hissed. Molly nodded and pushed him along to follow the others. When he turned back, he saw the guards had arrived around the corner, weapons drawn.
Molly drew her pistol, too, and without a second thought, fired at the pair. One was hit and went down. The other ducked back behind the corner.
“Run!” she ordered. Brock heard the others ahead of him break into a run. He followed, scared out of his wits.
“Shiiiiiiiitttt!” he squealed involuntarily.
Before he knew it, Molly was racing alongside him. “Come on. We’ve got to move. More are on their way.”
As if to prove her point, a laser blast whistled past his ear, causing him to jump midstride and almost fall over. He kept running, his feet pounding deliberately on the ground to help him regain his balance.
Molly had stopped and popped off several more shots. At the next corner, Brock glanced back to see her taking cover behind a recess in the wall, still shooting and taking down one guard at a time. He didn’t notice how many guards were coming after them now, but there was a lot of laser fire bouncing around the corridors.
Panic flooded his whole body. He noticed the others disappear into a dock. He hoped it was the right one and then dove in after them.
“Where’s Molly?” Joel demanded.
Brock looked back at the door. “She was right behind me.”
Joel waved the others onto the ship. “Emma?” he said hitting his comm, “get powered up and ready to leave. We’re under fire.” He turned to Brock. “Get on board. I’ll get Molly.”
And with that, Joel pulled out his weapon from his leg holster and strode back out of the door and immediately started laying down fire.
Brock shook his head in amazement and then followed the others up the invisible steps to get on board so they wouldn’t impede Joel and Molly’s path.
Brock arrived in the cockpit and immediately started helping Crash prep for takeoff.
“Emma, can you override the docking clamps?” he asked within a second of his butt hitting the seat.
“Who are you talking to?” she teased confidently.
“Okay, and how about helping those two get on board under fire?” he added.
Emma’s visual representation appeared on the screen next to him. “Of course.” She winked.
Molly and Joel emerged, walking backwards and shooting as they came into the dock. Joel slammed the dock door behind them and did his best to lock it. Then the pair raced up the stairs.
“Emma, you’re up!” Molly shouted as she fell through the door of the ship, closely followed by a rather sweaty Joel, who had to step over her to get to safety.
The door closed automatically behind them, just as the door to the dock opened and in spilled half a dozen guards: Skaine, Zyhn, and cyborg, all firing their weapons at the ship.
Emma had already activated the shields and was decoupling from the dock.
Brock glanced at his screen. “Uh oh,” he muttered.
Crash gritted his teeth. “It’s okay. We can fly through it if we need to.”
Molly scrambled to her feet and followed Joel into the cockpit.
“What’s ‘uh oh’?” Joel asked.
Molly was the one to respond. “It’s okay. Oz is on it. He just needs a minute.”
“We haven’t got a minute!” Brock squealed.
“Why?” Joel asked, raising his voice to be heard over the activity and panic. “What’s happening?”
“It’s the door behind us,” Molly explained. “They’ve closed it to stop us escaping. Oz is working on the override.”
The guard’s laser blasts hit against the ship’s shields, lighting it up in spots of green light which ran over the surface like spider legs before dispersing.
Anytime now, Oz.
Working on it…
A moment later, The Empress pulled away from the dock, and everyone braced for impact with the sealed doors behind them.
“Doors are opening!” Brock announced, checking the visuals on his screen. Crash remained silent, focused on the task at hand.
Joel and Molly relaxed a little, watching with bated breath as the ship reversed out, the spider strikes of the forcefield still occurring regularly and depleting their reserves.
Within a minute, they were out and punching a gate out of range of the station.
“Fuck me, that was close!” Brock chuffed, visibly relieved and breathing hard.
Molly laughed in relief and collapsed dramatically into one of the console chairs between Brock and Crash. “You’re telling me!”
Joel noticed a tear in her jacket. “You’re hurt.”
She glanced down. “Just a graze,” she muttered disinterestedly. She sighed and slumped back. “And another perfectly good atmosjacket ruined,” she added, realizing the implications.
Brock glanced at her sideways. “That was done saving my ass. When we get back, I’ll take you shopping as a thank you.”
Molly winked at him. “You’re welcome,” she said sweetly.
Brock grinned back at her. “Yeah. But we’re still going shopping.”
“Hmm, something tells me you just want an excuse to shop.”
He raised his eyebrows and wiggled them.
They laughed, letting go of the tension of the operation.
“But seriously, I think I discovered something about where to find Sean,” Brock said more seriously, swiveling around to face the center of the room and include Joel in the conversation.
Joel perched on the anti-grav chair across from Brock. “What did you find?”
“Well, it seems that Sean is being held somewhere in the next trading post. Something about tomorrow morning, he’ll be executed, though. In a church of all places.”
Joel frowned. “Sounds… odd. What else do we know?”
Brock shrugged. “Something about the other crime families being present to witness it. I’m guessing Sean has history in this sector… for the Don to want him.”
“The Don?” Molly pressed.
“Yeah?”
“As in, a mafia crime family?”
Brock pressed his lips together. “I guess. I couldn’t exactly interrogate the guy, though, so I’m kinda filling in the blanks.”
The three of them sat in silence, contemplating the new intel.
Crash chirped up, without turning around. “Got coordinates for the nearest trading post. Shall I get us there?”
“Yes,” Molly confirmed. “Thanks, Crash. But keep us out of weapons range while we check it out, though.”
“Roger that,” he reported, punching the holocontrols to get them on their new course.
“The rest of us need to regroup and then saddle up,” she announced. “Sounds like we’re going into battle. We’re going to need to arm up.”
Joel was first on his feet again, rubbing his hands together fast. “Let’s do this,” he muttered with a tone of determination, leading the way out of the cockpit.
Molly followed, all humor and relief now forgotten. It was game time.
Hangar Deck, Gaitune-67
The pod lifted up effortlessly, just like any other time they’d left the base. This time, it was different though: their mood, their mission, and the eerie feeling of being on a ghost base.
Paige glanced over at Maya. “It’s going to be okay. We’ve got this.”
“I know.” Maya smiled weakly. She looked out of the window as their pod made its way over to the opening hangar doors. “It’s just all so different without the others around. And what if something happens? We’ve no backup.”
Paige checked her wrist holo then tapped the hardware. “We’ve got ArchAngel… in case of a real emergency. Even if we were to just dump a message on a monitored server, she’d respond as quickly as we need her to.”
Maya rolled her lips, watching the base disappear beneath them as they headed for the doors. “Yeah. Not sure I wanna test that theory, though. It’s all a bit… hands off… for my tastes.”
Paige nudged her playfully. “Check this out. Maya Johnson suddenly concerned about taking risks.”
Maya shrugged. “Guess playing with a team has made me soft,” she agreed.
Paige rubbed her friend’s arm, smiling in amusement. “We’ll be back on base before we know it,” she promised. “So, what did we find in terms of the best place to intercept Mr. August?”
“Well,” Maya started slowly, “it wasn’t what I was expecting.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. I looked at his holo movements, and it doesn’t look like he’s going into the offices anymore.”
Paige frowned, not quite comprehending. “What do you mean? He’s working from home?”
Maya pressed her lips together firmly. “Not in that role,” she replied grimly. “He’s mostly been following a routine around his home, apart from going across town once a week and staying out half the night.”
“You think he’s been fired?”
The pod was now turning and heading off in the direction of Estaria, the onboard EI flicking up basic nav details on the screen and displaying the spacescape behind it on the translucent surface.
“Looks like it,” Maya guessed. “I tried scanning company reports and announcements, but there was no mention of them changing their Editor in Chief.”
“Would they?”
Maya tilted her head from side to side. “Normally? Maybe. But in the wake of a takeover? Probably not. Not if they wanted to stabilize the stock price or keep the news for an announcement at another time when it might suit them.”
Paige shook her head, grabbing onto the hand rail and turning herself to face Maya in the tiny pod. “Never ceases to amaze me… There’s just no way to get a bead on what’s really going on amongst all this intel.”
Maya sighed. “I agree. It’s something that Oz was useful for. He’s so great when it comes to figuring out probabilities of what’s going on.”
Paige almost imperceptibly shook her head, as if shaking the regret and wishing from her mind. “Okay, so where does that leave us in terms of our approach?” she asked, refocusing.
Maya pulled up a holo of the area around Bob August’s residence to show Paige. “I figured we’d just show up at his apartment and maybe wait for him to emerge… if you didn’t want to ring the bell?”
Paige shrugged. “I have no problem ringing the bell. He has no reason to turn us away.”
“Unless he’s keeping a low profile and doesn’t want to be seen with us.” She narrowed her eyes conspiratorially.
Paige wanted to tease her about her journalistic streak looking for sensationalism, but deep down, she knew it was a distinct possibility. “Right. Well, if that’s the case, we can make it more complicated and get a note to him or something. But let’s try the straightforward approach first.” She took a look at the map, carefully memorizing the key details.
This could go sideways very easily, she reminded herself.
Bob August’s Residence, Spire
“Fuckwits!” he barked, standing in the doorway of his apartment.
Maya noticed a pulsing at his throat. She found herself genuinely concerned about his blood pressure. “Forty-five years of service,” he ranted, “and they put me out on my ass like that!”
Paige glanced nervously up and down the corridor. “You wanna invite us in? I’m sure you don’t want your neighbors to know—”
“Sod the damn neighbors. They can all know for all I care. In fact,” he waved his finger like a warrior, “I want the world to know how they’ve treated me! And it’s not just me, you know?” He wandered away from the door and disappeared into the apartment.
Maya looked at Paige with comically raised eyebrows. “So much for needing a delicate, covert approach,” she teased as the pair took it as an invitation to follow him in.
They headed down the hallway into the living area which looked out onto the street four stories below.
Maya glanced at Paige, communicating intuitively that she would take the lead on the interview. Paige didn’t need to do anything to confirm the move. “So, Bob, what happened?” Maya asked in her most soothing voice possible.
Bob was pouring a drink. He turned, waving his hands absently, still wired. “New exec team moved in, moved me out. Put some woman in my place.”
Paige stifled a smile. She could tell it wasn’t about her being female. There was something else going on.
“Who?” Maya pressed, back in investigative mode like a duck taking to water.
Bob took a swig of his whiskey and shook his head in dismay as he swallowed. “Some Rosaline Porter. Helviti knows who she is, though. Never heard of her on the circuit before she showed up at my office the day they told me the news.”
Maya frowned. “So, she doesn’t have any experience?”
“Don’t think so. Unless she was a hot shot on Ogg, and we’ve just never heard of her.”
Maya took a note on her holo. “Interesting,” she muttered. “You heard anything about how things are being run there now?”
Bob started to simmer down. “Not really. They’ve gotten rid of a few of the guys, and everyone’s obviously pissed about the change. Making them do weekly meetings, whether they’re out in the field or what not. Plus, they’ve cut all funding for asset development.”
Paige frowned at Maya questioningly.
“We had an allowance for hotels and paying informants when we were chasing a story,” Maya explained. She paused. “You know, without that, it won’t be long before there are no real stories to talk about. I mean, the investigative journalism department was already thin on the ground from the old days. That all but wipes it out.”
Bob grunted something incoherent then coughed. “You’re telling me! It’s going to the dogs, that place. You mark my words.”
He turned to pour himself another drink. Maya appeared next to him, took the bottle off him, and placed it gently back on the counter. “Hey, Bob, you know, there may be more to this than just a hostile takeover for money.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I can’t go into details, but we’ve found indicators to suggest there’s something bigger going on here.”
“Bigger? Like what?” His brow furrow turned from one of anger to one of serious contemplation. The editor in him seemed to reawaken to the scent of a story.
“Like…” Maya glanced furtively at Paige. Paige blinked slowly, giving her the go ahead. Maya continued. “Like, a larger agenda. I tracked the payments to Info Corp. I think there’s a political move going on. What would help us narrow it down is to find out any specifics about what’s changed in the news runs. You know, like what stories are being pushed from the top office. What stories are being shut down or relegated to fewer eyes. What changes are being made to the algorithms in the tech department. That kinda thing.”
Bob listened intently. “I think I understand,” he relayed slowly. He moved around the kitchen counter where he had an old-school pen and paper. He scribbled some notes. “There are a few people I can probably talk to.” He hesitated. “Might take me a while. I’d need to do it on the down low… and take precautions.”
Maya nodded gravely. “Of course. I know how it can get.”
Bob raised his eyebrows at her. “I know you do,” he said pointedly. “Which also means that if there is something going on, we need to be careful. You can’t be seen down here again. We can set up some protocols so that I can feed what I find back to you, but no more direct contact.” He looked at her sternly. “You shouldn’t even be here today.”
Maya smiled, once again feeling like the little girl that had wandered into his newsroom all those years ago, looking for a job. “I know,” she admitted. “But… it’s been so long, and…”
Bob stepped toward her and wrapped his arms around her. “I know,” he said gently, holding her tightly.
Paige shifted her weight awkwardly, not wanting to spoil the moment but also not wanting to break it up by leaving.
Bob released Maya and held her at arm’s length. “Look, kiddo, this hasn’t been safe since the Jessica Newld fiasco. You don’t wanna be caught up in whatever is going down here now, so promise me you’ll get out of here and stay out of harm’s way? I’ll get you what I can, but you stay safe, agreed?”
Maya started to protest, but Bob silenced her with a glare. “I mean it, Maya. We didn’t go through all that for you just to get picked off by one of these corporate hustles.”
Maya nodded obediently. “Okay. I’ll stay off-world unless I need to be here on a mission then.”
That seemed to satisfy Bob. He looked over at Paige, still not releasing Maya from his hands. “You’ll see to it?” he asked.
Paige nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Okay.” He let go of Maya’s shoulders. They firmed up their plan and how he would communicate, and within a matter of minutes, Paige and Maya were trotting quietly back down the stairs in silence, watching carefully all around them for any signs of being followed.
Chapter 11
Level 40, Sim-deck 25, Glom Space station, Kirox Quadrant
The two suited Leath jogged heavily down the steps from the church, looking around to make sure they weren’t being noticed. They exchanged a furtive glance and headed off to the right, away from the main drag and off into the undergrowth of the unkempt graveyard.
As they approached the rest of their team, they started to relax. Their boss, Ak’or, appeared from behind a large tombstone. He was smoking a beamy. He took the last puff as he saw them coming and then tossed the butt of it into the grass. “Well?” he grunted expectantly, looking them both up and down with a look of casual disdain.
“All good, boss,” the first Leath reported.
“Yeah, all good,” his partner confirmed.
“Signs of weapons?” the boss asked.
The first guy shook his head. “Nothing big, boss. The ‘borgs are probably packing under their jackets, but we can take them out. No problem.” He punched his large fist into his other hand with a thud. His heavy jaw jutted out, making him look even more aggressive than his large build and bushy, overhanging eyebrows already did.
He glanced at the rest of his team unpacking their gear in the clearing of the simulated graveyard. Everything had to come on board through metal detectors, which meant that they were using carbon weapons which needed to be assembled. This was the only reason why they were setting up now and not sitting around, smoking and chewing the fat.
His gaze shifted nervously back to his boss. “Anything else you want us to do, boss?” he asked.
The commander’s eyes looked dark with impulses of revenge. “No,” he grunted roughly. “Just get set up. We’ll move as soon as this ridiculous fiasco is over.”
The flunkies nodded and moved off to join their buddies to prepare.
Meanwhile, a matter of yards away on the other side of the church, a group of five Noel-ni were doing the same thing. Having broken into the sim-deck from the upper floor and lowered themselves down on thin but intensely strong cable threads, they now assembled, quietly loading up their revolving tommy guns, waiting for the perfect opportunity to attack.
Each wore their traditional dress of a metal tunic that covered their humanoid torso. It was a matter of honor. This meant they had to stay agile and out of the way of any bullets, simply because they had so much exposed fur.
Brian, their leader, quietly barked the orders to the others. He pushed his damp nose in the air, sniffing the atmosphere for clues of who might be on the inside of the sim structure.
Being the pack leader, they were compelled to fall in line, regardless of their own thoughts or impulses. Barry, the second in command, paced on all fours, agitated and awaiting the go signal. Diana watched him, bemused.
Hangar Deck, Gaitune-67
Paige was the first to hop out of the pod, closely followed by Maya.
“So, what’s our next move?” Maya asked, automatically putting her hand on Paige’s shoulder as she jumped down.
Paige grabbed her bag from the floor of the hovering pod. “I’m not entirely sure. It feels like we could do with some help from Oz in hacking the services at Info Corp. And the Northern Clan folks.”
Maya pulled a face. “Yep. We’re kinda screwed when Molly isn’t about. Though…”
Paige had started walking across the hangar deck to the safehouse stairs. She turned back when she heard Maya hesitate. “What?”
“We have Bourne,” Maya said slowly.
Paige pulled her lips to one side of her face. “Does he even know how to hack? And can he do it without setting off any alarms, or having it traced back to us?”
Maya opened her mouth to comment but was interrupted by a voice in her audio implant. It was Bourne’s simulated voice. “Yeah, I can. You seem to be forgetting I escaped a military base when I was barely a few days old. And now, I’ve got all this intel on how the world works.”
Maya was about to correct him and remind him that he was in fact rescued, but Paige shook her head, stopping her. “Oh, you’ve been studying?” Paige asked instead. She grinned at Maya, and they kept walking toward the safehouse.
“I have,” Bourne boasted. “I watched a whole bunch of Mission Impossible, James Bond, Mr. Robot, and Chuck. I can do this.”
Paige and Maya exchanged nervous glances.
Maya waved her hand casually, allowing Paige to continue with a response, glad now she hadn’t gotten herself embroiled in the conversation with him.
Paige stumbled over her words. “Erm… right. This is totally awesome of you to volunteer, Bourne. Really appreciated. But… I’m thinking maybe we should wait until Molly gets back.” She hesitated. “Just in case, you know, it’s the wrong move and she wants us to… er, try another angle or something.”
Bourne seemed perfectly relaxed about the response. “Yeah. Sure. Whatever. Just know, I’m ready to go at a moment’s notice. I was Bourne ready!” he added enthusiastically.
Maya stopped walking and creased over, laughing silently. Paige rolled her eyes and leaned closer to whisper to Maya. “I blame the parents!”
Maya shook her head, mimicking Paige’s tone. “He’s a product of a misguided youth culture.”
The pair sniggered quietly, careful not to be heard over the inbuilt intercom in their holos, which Bourne must have been tapped into.
“Okay, cool,” Paige managed to say in a composed voice loudly so that Bourne would hear. “Thanks, Bourne. I appreciate it. We’ll keep you posted.”
Then she turned to Maya as they headed up the stairs. “Let’s see what else we can do in terms of managing this health and safety issue. I’m thinking if we can get ahead of the points they’ll be investigating, then we’ll have a chance. If they can’t find anything to shut us down for…”
“Then they can’t shut us down,” Maya finished.
“Exactly.”
The pair strode through the door to the demon door corridor. “Okay,” Maya agreed, pulling up another holoscreen and linking into the base’s extended network as she walked. “I’ll see if I can find a list of their inspection criteria.”
Paige nodded. “Cool. Meet you in the base conference room shortly.”
Level 40, Sim-deck 25, Glom Space station, Kirox Quadrant
Having docked as close as they could to the sim-deck, the team headed down another docking corridor to find that the floor opened into what could only be described as an outdoor simulation.
The team traipsed into the third sim-deck they had examined since they docked.
How many others are there to check after this? Molly asked Oz mentally.
There are only another two that are running simulations right now. All the others are powered down.
Out of nearly a hundred of them? Odd they have all this unused capacity.
They probably get busier when there are gatherings happening. Or in the evenings.
I never did get that.
What? Their business model?
No. Evenings. I mean, on a space station, there’s no night and day. Why bother?
Circadian rhythm? It’s how most species operate.
No. But what keeps us doing it? Habit? Health? Why do we naturally save the drinking and partying until after a certain time, which on a space station is completely arbitrary.
Are you being derisive about your species’ tendency to have an agreed social protocol related to time, which you all seem to abide by?
I guess I am.
Sometimes, I wonder who is more of the outsider: you or me. At least I try to fit in with cultural norms… now that I’m aware of them.
Ha! You trying to out-human me?
Maybe.
Hmm, something to prove, my inorganic friend?
“I can’t believe this is real,” Brock gasped, looking up at the simulated sky and trees and interrupting Molly’s train of thought.
“Well, it’s not,” Crash pointed out dryly. “That’s the point. You think those are trees? They’re not. It’s just your brain is being messed with by electromagnetic signals to make you think those are trees and sounds and birds and shit.”
“Beats the seedy simulated bars and brothels we’ve just gatecrashed,” Joel remarked, readjusting the blaster on his back as he glanced sideways at Crash. “Anyway, how come you know so much about this?”
Crash appeared suddenly flustered. “I erm… I used to come to a place like this. For fun.”
Pieter glanced at Joel, who was also regarding Crash suspiciously. “Right then,” Joel said, clearing his throat and changing the subject. “Despite this appearance of country lanes and fields, the plan of the physical place says we need to head in that direction and that there will be a building up ahead. That’s where Sean is probably being held, according to Oz’s interpretation of the layout.”
Brock snorted as he checked his blaster and repositioned the bandolier of grenades he had around his torso. “Well, I’ll take that with a pinch of salt. Seems Oz is just guessing right now.”
“To be fair, he had nothing other than the layout to go off,” Crash muttered to Brock, still recovering from the embarrassment of his confession. “Give the guy a break, eh? It’s not like Sean is wearing a tracker.”
Pieter closed the holoscreen he had been fiddling with, despite holding a pistol rather awkwardly in his other hand. “Yeah. No connection with his holo. The captors may have ditched it. Or turned it off.”
“Oh, woah, check that out!” Joel called to the whole group. They looked up to see the simulated road they were walking on open up to display a church.
“That’s it!” Brock exclaimed. His face turned from one of delight at seeing the quaint building, to one of determination. “Let’s go get those helvitis!”
Molly quickened her stride to catch up to the group. “Slow down, guys. We need a plan of approach. Who knows what we’ll be walking into?”
The guys slowed their pace and turned to her for instructions. Jack had been casing the outer perimeter from a wide angle and quietly jogged up and joined them. “We’ve got company,” she told them. “Just saw two meatheads come out of the front of the building.”
Molly thought for a moment.
Oz? Any way to get a read on how many bodies are in the sim deck?
Afraid not. There are no heat sensors. And this was booked for a group event so people can come and go without registering for bandwidth.
Shit.
“Okay, so that’s two that we know of,” she clarified for the team. “No way of knowing how many others might be around, so we need to play this carefully.”
Jack shifted her blaster on her hip. She too was loaded up on ammo and weapons. Enough to take out a platoon of Federation grunts singlehandedly, Joel thought as he noticed how she wasn’t even out of breath from her brief reconnaissance mission.
“Okay,” Molly said, opening her holo and drawing out a map of the terrain she could see ahead of them. “Here’s the building. Here’s the front. This is where those two goons came out.” She glanced at Jack. “Which direction did they go?”
“They went off in this direction,” Jack explained, pointing on the diagram and drawing in a line with her finger. “But I dunno if there’s another building over there or what. There was some cover… bushes and stuff.”
“Okay, anything else? Any other doors?”
Jack shook her head. “Not that I saw. I didn’t go all the way around. I’d find it hard to believe they simulated it with just one entryway.”
“Unless,” Joel interjected, “they designed it to be a holding cell.”
Molly clicked her fingers. “Good point.” She shook her head. “This world… it’s just nuts. That someone could simulate a holding cell out of brainwaves that would potentially keep someone trapped… incredible!”
Pieter nodded enthusiastically and started to interject.
Jack coughed. “Maybe we should marvel later and ‘mission’ now?”
“Right,” Molly agreed. “So, I guess we can just all go in the front door then. Although Jack, do you think you could take care of those two that disappeared off that way? If they didn’t come back down this lane, they probably weren’t heading out of the sim.”
Jack nodded. “Got it.”
“Okay,” Molly said, straightening up and grabbing the blaster off her back. “Let’s lock and load.”
She started striding out ahead of the group, closely followed by Brock, Crash, and Joel.
Pieter scurried after them, bringing up the rear, and Jack stalked back off into the undergrowth to take care of the two bogies who had already revealed themselves.
* * *
Joel and Crash took the lead and strode up the steps to the huge wooden doors of the apparent church.
“Go on three,” Joel mouthed to Crash. “One, two, three!”
Crash and Joel barged through the doors, quickly followed by Pieter and Molly. Guns poised, ready to fire on anything that moved.
Only then did they realize that there had been a hubbub of activity behind the doors, which suddenly silenced when they burst through.
“Oh crap,” Joel muttered, lowering his weapon slowly, distracted by the scene ahead of them.
“Holy mongoose,” Molly murmured.
Oz started laughing hysterically in Molly’s head, tingling her spine annoyingly.
Oz, stop. For fuck’s sake.
Molly looked out at the hundreds of faces turned in their direction, sitting in the sea of pews, dressed to the nines.
“Bride or groom?” a gruff-looking, suit-wearing cyborg asked them politely.
Brock slapped his leg several times, doubling over, laughing silently, and unable to respond.
Joel pushed past Crash and Brock to talk to the cyborg. “Sorry, what?”
“Are you from the bride’s side or the groom’s?” the usher clarified.
Joel’s mouth hung agape. His eyes surveyed the faces that were still watching in rapt interest at the bizarre party that had just arrived, armed to the teeth.
Molly folded up her blaster and started to stow it away in the foyer. Crash followed suit, followed quickly by Pieter. Just at that moment, Jack came bounding in, blaster primed, ready to fire.
She stopped in her tracks.
Molly nodded at her folded-up blaster in the cloakroom area of the entranceway, pushed up against the coats. Jack looked completely confused and then powered hers down too and did the same.
Joel, meanwhile, had found his words. “I’m sorry I…” Then he spotted Sean down at the front of the church. His eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Sean?”
“The groom, then,” the usher confirmed, making a cunning deduction. “This way.” He signaled to the right-hand side and indicated that the party should follow.
Brock managed to pick himself up off the floor where he had been recovering from his quiet laughing fit. Quickly, and still grinning, he started taking the grenades off his sash and putting them into pockets out of sight.
The cyborg usher showed them to a half-empty pew. Joel filed in first, followed by Molly, then Jack, Pieter, Crash, and finally Brock.
An old lady sat on the back bench on the bride’s side. She appeared astounded and very interested in the bizarre newcomers. She caught Brock’s eye as he sheepishly disarmed himself. He winked at her and continued grinning.
The rest of the congregation had restarted their chatter, and apart from the odd glance in their direction, Molly’s team was mostly forgotten again.
Joel was looking around, trying to gather more clues as to what was going on. He saw Sean loitering around the front of the church, talking to people who approached him, shaking his hand and wishing him well.
“Sean’s getting married?” he whispered in disbelief. “Is this real? Who’s he marrying, even?”
Molly stood up. “I’m going to find out.” She clambered over his long legs blocking her path to the other end of the row and then pushed her way past the other guests filling the pew. She staggered out onto the outer aisle.
Joel’s gaze followed her. “Be careful,” he hissed, still not entirely sure they should be putting their weapons away.
She flapped her arm at him in a manner that she obviously thought was discreet and strode off to the front.
Chapter 12
Level 40, Sim-deck 25, Glom Space station, Kirox Quadrant
Molly strode down the side of the church, keeping her head down and trying to attract as little attention as possible.
She felt eyes all over her, watching her every move. Scrutinizing her. She did her best to ignore the attention. At least people were talking amongst themselves. Even if it was about the strange party who were probably gatecrashing the event.
Molly found her way to the front where Sean was waiting nervously. He turned to look at her. His expression of social discomfort turned to one of shock: like a child who had been caught with its hand in the cookie jar.
Molly’s expression was now blank. She just stared at him in his full wedding outfit, stunned.
“I… Molly,” he said, reaching out to touch her.
She took half a step back. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”
Sean composed himself. “Yeah. Erm... This way.” He motioned toward a door a few yards back from where she had come and then led her in. It was clearly the groom’s dressing room. There were discarded clothing packets and hangers hanging on bits of church furniture. On the dresser, there was a bottle of Yollin Brandy and a few empty glasses. Her eyes clocked them and then turned to interrogate Sean.
“What the hell, Royale?” she blurted out, her composure evaporating in an instant.
He looked flustered. “Well, yeah. Would you believe me if I told you that it’s not what it looks like?” He scratched the back of his head, pulling his suit into an awkward shape around his torso.
“You mean, it doesn’t look like you’ve been kidnapped, and in order to orchestrate your release, you’re having to get married?” she asked, her expression returning to blank.
He looked down at his feet, his hair disheveled now. “Ah. So. Erm, yeah. It’s almost exactly what it looks like, then.”
Molly stared at him incredulously. “What the fuck is going on?”
“You’ve gatecrashed my wedding!”
“Are you serious?”
“As a bullet in the head,” he said grimly.
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Only way out of a tight situation.”
“Come on. We have guns. We can get you out of here.” She grabbed his sleeve and moved back toward the door, reaching for her pistol.
He moved and put his hand against the door, stopping her from opening it. Then he put his other hand on her pistol, stopping her from drawing it. “No,” he said quietly. “The only way I’m leaving here is married.”
Molly frowned, confused. “We can get you out of here. Easy. We just walk out. We’re docked just down the hall.”
He shook his head. “You don’t understand. I can’t. It’s not just me.”
Molly moved her hand from the door knob. “The bride?” she guessed.
He shuffled his feet. “Yeah, Karina,” he confessed. “It’s my fault she’s in this mess. And she needs a fresh slate. This is the only way.”
Molly retreated into the room so their voices wouldn’t be heard. “What are you talking about? Grab her and we’ll get her out, too.”
His expression was one of a broken man, torn between worlds. “It’s not that simple. If she runs, she’ll never be free. We may as well shoot her now.”
Molly reached again for the pistol strapped to her leg. “Okay,” she said, starting toward the door.
“No!” He stopped her again. “It’s complicated. And there isn’t time to explain now. But I do have to do this.”
Molly looked at him blankly, processing the options. Her mind came up with five different scenarios of how to extract both him and the bride. Not one of those scenarios explained why he would want to stay and go through with this legally binding ceremony… which would be binding, even if it was under duress.
Her mind raced, trying to comprehend what might have happened. “Has someone got something on you?” she tried again.
He shook his head, then stopped. “Well, yes. But not really. Look, it’s complicated. But stay, and I’ll explain everything later.”
Molly took a deep breath.
Oz? What do I do?
It’s Sean. You need to trust him.
But he’s… getting married!
Which is his decision.
Can we do a tox screen? Maybe he’s been drugged. What do we need? Blood sample? I can punch him and probably bust his lip—
Molly, no! He’s showing no signs of drugs or doping.
How do you know?
I’m able to track things like heartbeat and pupil dilation and response times just watching him.
“Molly?” Sean pressed, his face gaunt and showing signs of fatigue.
“Yeah.” Molly realized she’d been staring at him while having the Oz conversation. “Anything I can do?”
The tension in Sean’s jaw seemed to relax a small amount. “Go get some good pictures. And tell those boys to stand down. No shooting today.”
“Fine.” She nodded abruptly and strode out of the room, leaving the door open.
Sean could tell she was upset.
She felt sore. Rejected. And guilty. Like this was her fault.
I just don’t understand why he would want to do this.
We clearly don’t have all the facts.
But I can’t imagine a world where he would want to be doing this. We’ve never known him to even have a girlfriend. Or a relationship of any kind.
I know. We’ll find out, I’m sure. We just need to make sure you get through the ceremony without causing a scene.
What makes you think I’d cause a scene?
Your heartrate is elevated. As are your cortisol levels. The last time I measured anything like this was in the Estarian safehouse when you’d just been rejected by Joel.
I was never rejected by Joel.
Well, technically… maybe not. But that’s how your physiology interpreted it.
Well, fuck. Molly started in another direction.
Where are you going?
Restroom.
No. Keep it together. You need to be out here. We still don’t know what’s really going on.
The music started.
Get back to your seat. I’ll see what I can do about getting your systems back to normal parameters so you can get through this.
Without causing a scene?
Yes. Without causing a scene. That is your mission.
Molly scowled. Well, if this is a real wedding, at least there will be alcohol soon.
Yes, focus on the positive. Wait! This pew.
Molly stopped in her tracks and backtracked to her pew. “I’m sorry, would you excuse me?” she asked politely to the Zyhn-like creature on the end.
She pointed to her party. The person stepped out and allowed her to pass, and the Yollin sitting next to him pressed himself back so she could squeeze past him, too. She shuffled her way along the row, bypassing the guests to end up back with the others.
She plonked herself down next to Joel. “Everything okay?” he asked.
Molly looked straight ahead. “Apart from feeling completely underdressed and overarmed, yes. Oh yeah, and Sean wants us to trust him and let him go through with this.”
“Any explanation?” Joel asked.
She shook her head slightly, looking down at a program she had picked up from the ledge in front of her. “Nope. He said he’ll explain later.”
“Well, I guess we can only follow his lead. He’s probably on an op.”
“Let’s hope so,” Molly agreed. “Otherwise, this is just too confusing.”
Just then, everyone stood up and turned to see the bride coming down the aisle.
Molly hauled herself to her feet, too, and turned to look, craning her neck. She couldn’t see.
Joel saw her struggling to catch a glimpse and turned toward her. “Don’t worry, she’s not even that pretty,” he said, half teasing her, half trying to comfort her.
Molly looked up at him, locking eyes. She couldn’t understand why she hurt so much. But somehow, Joel seemed to know exactly what she was going through. He put his arm around her and pulled her close as he pretended to pay attention to what was going on ahead of them now.
The crowd hushed and the music stopped.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…” a voice boomed through the simulated building.
“Oh, my ancestors!” Brock hissed past Crash to Pieter.
Pieter looked concerned. “What is it?” His eyes darted nervously around the crowd ahead of him, looking for the threat.
“I love her shawl!” Brock exclaimed as discreetly as he could.
Pieter relaxed, noticing out of the corner of his eye that even Crash smirked.
Pieter craned his neck to see where Brock was looking. “Oh, the shimmery one?”
“Yeah.”
Pieter smiled to himself. Brock continued to eye the crowd, presumably out of his interest in the fashion more than staying sharp for possible problems.
“Yeah,” Pieter continued, sitting down so their conversation would be less conspicuous while everyone else stood and listened to the priest. Brock did the same. “I hear they’ve started making those shawls with the guts of abbey worms. Apparently, they are only found on exoplanets with enough sulfur in the atmosphere.”
Brock frowned and looked at Pieter now. “How the heck do they harvest them, then?”
“In space suits. And using lots and lots of Teshovians, I heard.”
Someone behind them coughed, trying to get them to be quiet.
“No way!” Brock exclaimed, glimpsing the angry glare from the people behind and trying to lower his voice even more.
“Yeah. It’s a big business in the fashion industry. At least, that’s what Paige was telling me.” Pieter slouched back in the pew.
“Fascinating.”
“Yeah,” Pieter agreed. “And Paige is going to be pissed that she’s missing—”
“Oh, lordy,” Brock interjected. “Look at those shoes!”
Crash and Pieter sat up and strained to see around the people gathering in the aisle where Brock was looking.
“I didn’t know they made such glamorous stuff for Krenlock,” Brock exclaimed.
The tall, scaly Krenlock must have overheard them because she turned and glared at them from her seat in a pew three rows in front of them.
Brock clamped a hand over his mouth. “Oops!”
Pieter shook his head. “You and your big mouth.”
Brock sniggered. “Her and her big feet!” He noticed Crash’s chest bouncing as he laughed silently between the two of them. “They must be a special line. Or a knockoff or something.” Brock sniggered.
Crash made a very quiet sound, like the meow of a cat.
Pieter giggled and reached across Crash to slap Brock’s arm. “Stop already! You’re going to get us killed!” He peered between the standing people in front of them to see if he could still see the Krenlock. “And I don’t know what her species normally looks like, but right now, she looks damn angry.”
Brock sighed. “You’re right,” Brock agreed. “But you know, I don’t think I’ve ever been in a room with so many different species. And that’s saying something!”
“Yeah, I can believe that, mister free-love.” Pieter chuckled.
Brock’s smile faded. “You know, there’s something else. Something I just can’t put my finger on.”
“Something wrong?” Crash asked.
“Yeah. It’s… maybe it’s just cause it’s a sim. And bizarre circumstances…”
Crash spoke even more quietly now, keeping his face straight. “You’re not thinking it’s your grindle senses tingling?”
Brock tipped his head from side to side. “Maybe.”
Pieter leaned back in the pew and then shifted awkwardly. “You know, now that you mention it, I got a funny feeling about all this, too. It’s like there is something obvious staring us in the face, but we’re not seeing it.”
Brock sighed. “Yeah, I agree,” he said, continuing his scan of the crowd around them.
Level 40, Sim-deck 25, Glom Space station, Kirox Quadrant
Jack listened attentively as the priest talked at the congregation. She noticed that on the bride’s side, a stocky but older gentleman sat wiping his eyes and sniffing. She guessed he must be the father of the bride. She scanned for a woman of a similar age and noticed there wasn’t anyone that fit the bill for the mother.
She became aware of someone behind her and a low whisper. She turned her head to catch, out of the corner of her eye, a rather tall, scaly creature leaning over to her. He looked like he expected an answer.
“I’m sorry?” Jack whispered back, turning a little more to regard him carefully. “Did you…”
He nodded. “Yes,” he said, in a guttural-sounding accent. “I was admiring your piece.”
Jack glanced down at her chest, then realized he was signaling at the butt of her pistol shoved into her holster under her arm. “Oh!” she mouthed, trying to brighten her face and look social rather than mission-focused. “Thank you!” she mouthed. “Custom,” she added, trying to be polite.
The creature looked at her approvingly and then went back to listening to the ceremony.
Jack turned and saw Brock sniggering quietly to himself on the end.
Crash jabbed him gently in the ribs, trying to get him to behave. He looked right and caught Pieter’s eye. Pieter smiled, clearly amused by the pair. Crash rolled his eyes and sighed, like it pained him to have to be the only grown up.
Pieter deduced that Crash was still getting used to the relationship thing, considering that the facial expression was probably the most expression he’d seen out of Crash in a social situation… ever.
Brock was distracted again, now communicating silently with hand gestures with an old dear over on the other side of the aisle. She was pointing at his crotch. Brock was trying to figure out what she was getting at. And then he realized it was his pockets. He pulled out the grenade that was causing the rather obvious bulge. She turned her finger, asking him to turn it over. He obliged. She squinted and then straightened up and gave him a thumbs-up. He replaced it in his pocket. Then, she whispered loudly across to him. “I use those when I can get my hands on them. Hard to find in stock round here, though.”
“Shh!” Several people all at once turned around and shushed her.
She glared in the direction of one of them and stared down the back of his head before looking back at Brock for moral support. Brock tried to suppress his smile and pretended to be listening to the priest again.
He hadn’t been quiet for more than thirty seconds before he leaned over to Crash next to him. “Paige and Maya are going to be pissed they missed the chance to dress up,” he whispered as quietly as he could.
Crash nodded without taking his eyes from the front.
“And being bride’s maids!” Crash added. “Yeah. That’s huge. Sean’s in for it… if he survives this.”
He was quiet for a moment.
“You think there is a reception afterward?” Brock hissed again.
Crash shrugged.
“Okay, I’ll shut up and let you watch Sean’s fake wedding in a fake church.”
Crash turned and locked eyes with Brock. “You think it’s fake?” he asked in a really low voice, his lips moving as much as a ventriloquist’s.
Brock shrugged. “He goes missing, and then we find him getting hitched to some chick we’ve never heard of? It’s either a ruse or an escape plan.”
Crash reacted with his eyes before turning back to the front. “Ironic escape plan,” he mused.
Brock was quiet again for about ten seconds. “You saying that marriage is a prison? Or a hostage situation?”
Crash almost inceptively sighed with frustration. “No. I wasn’t saying that. I was talking about this situation.”
He could tell Brock was extrapolating to his views in general. He gently inched his foot closer to Brock and shifted closer to make arm to arm contact.
Brock relaxed, feeling suddenly reassured.
The service had been going for a good half hour. The priest had talked about the nature of love and the commitment that the happy couple were making to each other.
Molly felt like her brain was going to implode.
“So, if anyone here has any reason why these two people should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now, or forever hold your peace.”
Molly felt a wave of adrenaline hit her.
I could…
Don’t even think about it.
She raised her eyes to look up at the front and noticed that there was a lot of attention in her direction. It took her another moment to realize that the entire team was looking directly at her.
And the people all around her were looking to her and her team, as if that was why they were here.
Well, she thought, it is exactly why we’re here.
Don’t.
Molly glanced over at the others. Joel, Jack, Crash, Pieter, and Brock. Every single one of them looked at her expectantly.
Was her silence letting the team down?
Should she be fighting for Sean, even though he had told her not to?
“What?” she hissed at them angrily.
“Nothing,” Brock whispered, snapping his eyes back to the front like a soldier. All the others did the same.
The priest was looking in their direction, too. Molly felt her face flush. Then, she saw Sean turn around to glare at her.
She felt mortified. Like she just wanted the ground to open up and swallow her down every deck and into empty space.
She caught her breath and looked down, studying her fingernails as hard as she could, waiting for the burning gazes to turn their attention away from her. She felt her whole body overheat.
Glancing up to see if the ceremony was continuing, she saw that the priest was still looking at her, as if giving her one last opportunity to not have to hold her peace for all eternity.
The bodies in the church shifted impatiently, some straining to see what they were all waiting for.
Her heart throbbed. She felt helpless and tearful. But she knew she couldn’t react. She made eye contact with the priest and waved her hand as if to say she was waving her right.
Her last chance to understand what was going on.
The priest seemed to shrug, as if to say, “Don’t say I didn’t give you a chance.” And then he continued.
Molly felt a piece of herself die. A part of her would never accept that this wasn’t real. No matter how long this farce went on for. But maybe that was what she had to learn. To accept a reality, even when she knew in her bones that there was something wrong with it.
And maybe there ultimately was nothing wrong with it. People made bad decisions all the time. And they went on living and breathing in some instances. There was always the next thing. The next chapter. And so it would be with Sean. Even if she didn’t know what that looked like.
Even if it meant him leaving the team and her never seeing him again. At least it had been his decision, and she was in no way going against his wishes.
At least she had that.
A single tear trickled down her face before she discreetly knocked it away with the back of her finger.
Chapter 13
Level 40, Sim-deck 25, Glom Space station, Kirox Quadrant
Pieter had been distracted throughout the ceremony.
There was another long reading happening, but by the old guy that was announced as the father of the bride. They were all standing for it. He wished he could just sit down. It wasn’t a matter of fitness. It was like some boredom switch had been flicked on and his body just felt exhausted.
His eyes scanned the congregation for the zillionth time. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. He looked to his left and across the aisle. It was definitely something about her side of the family that was bugging him. Apart from there being many more of them on that side…
And in the chatter beforehand, he noticed that some people who knew the other side were put on this side.
That would figure, he thought to himself. I bet Sean doesn’t have many people who he’d invite from his side. They must have run out of space on the bride’s side.
He noticed that they all seemed a certain type. Despite there being many different species in the room, it was as if they all belonged to the same tribe. Or family.
He narrowed his eyes, wracking his brain for what else he had noticed unconsciously. He noticed toward the back, there were lots of human cyborgs. Like a small contingent. An army. He watched them for a few moments until one of them noticed, and Pieter looked back at the front of the room.
A family. With their own personal army.
Where had he seen that before? he wondered.
Well, obviously in the mafia movies on the archives… Shit! That was it. That was why Sean was going through with it! He must have gotten caught up in a mafia thing on this mission, and now, he’s deep undercover and…
His eyes were wide, and Brock must have noticed. He was looking over at him, demanding a silent explanation.
Pieter looked furtively around, trying to find some way to warn the others without drawing attention to themselves.
His mind raced.
The priest made his final proclamation. “You may now kiss the bride.”
Sean leaned in and kissed the girl in the white dress, and applause erupted in the church. The father of the bride was beside himself with what Molly could only assume was happiness. Except he was crying and waving his hands.
Molly glanced over at Joel. “Well, I guess that’s that,” she said, as detached as if she’d been commenting on the weather. Joel started to say something comforting to her, but all of a sudden, there was a big bang at the back of the church, and people started screaming and shouting.
Then, there was a hail of bullets flying through the length of the simulated building.
Molly instinctively ducked and turned around.
I bet those aren’t simulated bullets!
No such luck.
Panic erupted in the ranks of guests. People were scattering everywhere, shouting and squealing. “We’ve got company,” she shouted down the pew to the others, who had already ducked for cover and were reaching for their weapons.
She peeked up over her pew to see a band of Leath brandishing tommy guns and firing into the crowd.
The bank of cyborgs at the back of the church seemed completely underprepared. They reached for their tiny pistols that they had concealed in their ankle holsters. Molly didn’t have time to wonder why they had small guns and not something bigger in their jackets. They seemed like the type.
She had already pulled her guns from the holsters and scrambled out to the side aisle, keeping as low as she could so as not to get hit.
Not that they’d kill instantly. They look like lower caliber old-fashioned weapons.
They’d still do some serious damage. Could kill you if you take a bullet to the head. Or a vital organ. I’d advise against getting hit.
Thanks, Oz. I’ll keep that in mind.
She carefully stalked down the aisle until she was only a couple of pews from the back. Then she started picking off the Leath, glad of the Jean Dukes she had to get the job done.
She took out two of the five in the first round but instantly drew the fire of the other three, who had already pushed the team of cyborgs into a side room to take cover.
Just then, there was shooting behind her. Quickly, she pivoted in her crouched position to see a few of the cyborgs were dealing with a threat of Noel-ni coming in from one of the back rooms. The fox-like humanoid creatures seemed to be using swords with a special forcefield that they used to deflect the bullets. They weren’t firing any of their own. In fact, the swords also seemed to double as an actual sword. She watched as one of the cyborgs got within swords-length of one of them. The weapon cut straight through him like it was slicing through butter.
Motherfucker!
She noticed that Joel and Crash were firing at the remaining Leath. Brock was readying a grenade. Jack… she couldn’t see where Jack was. But Pieter was safe with Joel.
She turned back to the front. Most of the guests had either scampered away or were taking cover between the pews.
There was only one thing for it: she was going to have to deal with the Noel-ni herself.
Keeping low, she stalked toward the front. She saw one had his sword raised above his head, about to bring it down on someone. Shit! It was the father of the bride. He cowered, petrified, one hand shielding his head. Molly stood briefly, firing off three shots, and watched the sword-wielding tyrant stagger back before falling over.
One of his comrades noticed. She was female. She turned, screaming, and ran toward the slumping body. In doing so, she forgot to shield herself, and a bullet blast whistled through and took her out.
Molly glanced to see where the other shot had come from and glimpsed Jack taking cover again.
All of a sudden, she felt movement behind her. A Noel-ni was coming at her with a sword, wielding it like a machete. She turned her body around and managed to fire with one pistol as she pivoted. It caught him in the gut, and though he was jumping through the air and the momentum was carrying him and his sword, she was just able to get out of the way of the sharp blade. The body of the dying Noel-ni knocked her to the ground, crushing the air out of her lungs as they both fell backward.
She could hear the guns firing and the continued kerfuffle of the war zone around her. She struggled to get the creature off her. He was heavy. And bleeding.
Ick.
Better ick than dead.
She sighed, trying to catch her breath so she could move again. After a few moments, she tried again, and this time managed to get herself out from underneath the body.
That is… ugh.
The hail of bullets had stopped. A strange quiet, punctuated by groans and whispers, filled the church. Molly carefully surveyed the scene. She could see wedding guests hiding, some peeking to see if it was over. The bride was by her father’s side, helping him up. Sean was standing over a Noel-ni. She could tell from his position that he’d gone up behind it and killed it with his bare hands. She shook her head, amused that even without a blaster, he was a deadly weapon.
Joel. Where was Joel? She panicked.
She scanned the area of the pews where he had been. Brock was the first to sit up on the bench. He was grinning, relieved and exhausted. Jack appeared from the other side of the room. Molly headed back up the outside aisle to check on the others. As she approached, Crash and Joel stood up. And then Pieter hauled himself up.
She wandered through a row to the center aisle. “Well, maybe we weren’t that over-armed,” she called over to Joel, who just burst out laughing.
* * *
It took a while for the guests to compose themselves, and then for station security to show up and start helping people out and taking statements. It took another half an hour or more for everything to be resolved and the bodies to be taken away.
“Well, it’s a Sean Royale thing,” Joel was saying to the group of Sean, the bride, and her father.
Sean looked confused.
“What?” Joel continued. “You didn’t expect that Royale could have any kind of celebration or event without it involving a gunfight for good measure. Whole thing seems kinda apt to me!”
The group laughed hysterically, and Sean slapped Joel on the back. Molly watched carefully as she approached, not really sure she was ready to meet this strange bride that had convinced Sean to cut them off, risk his life, and then tie the knot.
Sean beckoned her over, and she walked more purposefully. “I was just introducing Joel to my wife and my father-in-law.”
“Please, call me Dad!” Vito exclaimed.
“Okay… Dad!” Sean said, clearly embarrassed by the whole thing.
Sean presented Karina. “Karina, this is Molly Bates. Molly, meet Karina Royale. AKA Mrs. Sean.”
Molly stepped forward to shake her hand. Karina, still clearly high on adrenaline from the gunfight, flung her arms around Molly. “Molly. So glad you could make the wedding!”
Molly tried to pull herself away from the smothering embrace and was about to protest about Sean being in mortal danger and how she hadn’t been invited but was more trying to save his hide… when Joel put a hand on her shoulder and shook his head.
Molly relented and relaxed, allowing the girl to hug her. Slowly, she made an effort and put her hands on Karina’s back. Sean caught her eye. He was clearly amused by the interaction.
Molly peeled herself away. “Well, congratulations, Sean,” she said, holding out a hand to shake. “Glad you’re not dead.”
Sean knocked her hand away and hugged her.
Molly sighed, resigning herself to the new reality that at least during this damn wedding, she was going to be hugged.
“Very nice to meet you,” the father of the bride said, stepping forward. “My name is Calzone. Vito Calzone.”
Molly felt a mild relief as he pushed out his hand, rather than forcing her into a hug. “I must say,” he continued in his strange accent, hardly opening his mouth as he talked, making the tone kind of suppressed and mumbled. “I’m very grateful that you and your friends were here with weapons.” He glanced at Sean. “You know, all guests were instructed they weren’t to bring weapons. Just the family employees were meant to have a few guns, just in case.”
Molly rolled her lips inward, wondering whether she should come clean. “We didn’t get an invitation,” she confessed. She glanced at Sean for backup.
Sean laughed heartily. “Yep, that’s Molly. Just always showing up… uninvited!” He seemed nervous but moved toward her and slapped her on the back. Vito was laughing, too. Seeing that, Sean relaxed again, only to catch a scowl from his new bride, who was less than happy about him touching the leggy blonde who had happened to save all their lives.
“Well,” Vito chuckled, “this party isn’t going to start itself. Molly, I thank you for saving the wedding guests, myself, and my precious daughter. You are, of course, invited to the reception.”
He raised his voice so that those around would hear him. “Time to move to the reception, people. This is a day of celebration, and we won’t allow a little skirmish with rival families to interfere. Everyone to the One2One Bar on the main concourse of this level. Let the station staff finish clearing up the bodies in peace.”
He waddled forward, disrupting the circle of people who were gathered in the group.
Molly and Joel folded away their weapons and followed. “I still feel underdressed, though,” Molly murmured to Joel as they made their way out of the simulated church.
Wellness Spa, Aboard The ArchAngel, Sark System
The server in the spa area deposited two more martinis on the table between the two women and cleared away the empty ones.
Barb didn’t want another martini but knew it was important to keep up with Carol. “So, what exactly did you do?”
Carol picked up the fresh martini. “I just had some of my team put out some feelers. But of course, they had some kind of firewall in play and we got made.”
“So, what happened?”
“Nothing.” Carol shrugged. “Molly didn’t even call.”
Barb laid back and relaxed, closing her eyes. “Interesting. Did she know it was you?”
“I guess probably not,” Carol confessed. “Else she would have been in touch. Or, at least, descended on our decoy facility.”
Barb smiled. “I don’t think she would have been fooled by a decoy facility.”
“What makes you so sure? We have the best techs in the system.”
“Oh, she has a pretty good team. And a good head on her shoulders.” Barb smirked underneath her martini glass as she took another sip. “So, come on, what’s going on? Why is your husband kidnapping you if all you’re doing is putting out feelers for your daughter?”
Carol sighed, sitting up on the lounger and swinging her feet onto the floor. “Well,” she confessed, “I might have overstepped.”
“Overstepped how?”
“Well, I may have arranged for one of my ex-agents to make sure that my daughter and Sean Royale could never be involved… personally.”
“How did you do that?”
“I, erm… I sent this agent to ensnare Royale. Take him out, as it were.”
“You’re kidding? Carol, you don’t need me to tell you that that is insane, do you?” Barb looked perplexed, like she couldn’t tell if she was talking to someone who was just driven or clinically insane.
Carol bobbed her head deferentially. “Well, it may have been a little rash,” she admitted, as if she was confessing to having raised her voice in a meeting. “But I was emotional. And I haven’t seen her for so long, and she acts like she’s not my little girl anymore.”
“So, you decide to interfere with someone else’s life like that?”
“Well, technically, two someone elses’ lives. But I don’t want that rogue anywhere near her… with his cyborg enhancements and goodness knows what.”
Barb sighed, ignoring the potential for a double entendre. “You know Sean is a good guy.”
“Good guy my ass!” Carol scoffed, reaching for her drink again as if to medicate her anger. “He just uses women and then discards them. One after another.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I’ve been keeping tabs on him. And besides, how do you think I came to have an agent from outside Estaria?”
“Sean?”
“Yup. Goodness knows where he found her, but he wiped her background and deposited her with Lance, who then put her through the academy and then pulled some strings to get her into my agency. Which is where she stayed until she retired five years ago.”
“And what brought her out of retirement?”
“Me.”
Barb shook her head. “I’m going to need another drink,” she muttered and lifted her still half-full martini glass to the waiter.
* * *
Barb had directed the conversation off into other areas, deliberately getting Carol to open up about other things before steering their focus back to the problem at hand. Carol, however, was the one to change the subject back to Molly.
“So, do you have any idea what’s going on?” she asked Barb, now slightly slurring her words. “Is the Federation in touch with my daughter?”
Barb frowned. “Lemme look,” she said, opening her holo device and scrolling. “Oh, here we go. Yes, ADAM is monitoring the whereabouts of their ship, and the local news stations and security reports.” Her eyes darted around the projected holographic screen for a few moments. “Hmm, it looks like…”
“What?” Carol pressed.
“Well, it seems there was a disturbance on a space station where a girl was kidnapped from. Here, they have an image.”
Barb showed Carol the image of Karina going into the restaurant.
Carol slammed her hand over her mouth.
“Your operative?”
Carol nodded, keeping her hand in place.
Barb carried on flicking through the screen’s data. “Ah… and some more. There was an attack with guns on a simulation deck on a trading outpost. There have been a few arrests, but most of the perpetrators were killed.”
Carol seemed to quickly sober up. “Can we get an ID on any of them?”
Barb flicked some more. She shook her head. “Nope. They haven’t been processed yet.”
Carol put her hands over her face. “It’s all my fault,” she muttered from behind her hand, tears welling in her eyes.
Barb glanced over at her. “No, no, no. Hold on. We don’t know that was Molly and her team. For all we know, she was the one doing all the killing. In fact, knowing what I do about that Sanguine Squadron, it probably was them. And look, ADAM updates this report every five seconds. We’ll know more soon, I’m sure.”
Carol tried to compose herself, but instead, she broke down.
Barb patiently consoled her, reaching across to touch her arm. “Come on, it’s going to be okay. Molly knows what she’s doing. And if Sean is still around, then they’ll be back here in no time. I’m sure of it.”
“I’m a terrible mother!” Carol howled through her hands.
Barb sat up and faced her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Now, now… You’re not. Molly’s turned out great. She’s made the Federation proud on several occasions, and if anyone can deal with this mission, she can.”
“I know, but I put her in this situation!” Carol insisted.
“Yes,” Barb agreed. “You did. But the good news is you can help get her out of it.”
Carol paused her sobbing and looked up at Barb. “How do you mean?”
Barb shrugged, clearly in control of the situation. “Well, you could start by explaining everything you know about this operative and what her play was. Then sharing all the intel you’ve gathered in your investigation would go a long way toward helping us help Molly get out of there safely.”
Carol nodded, gulping her sobs back. “Yes. Anything. I’ll do anything.”
Barb signaled to the server. “We’re going to need some coffee over here when you’re ready,” she said.
The server nodded and headed off to fill the order.
Chapter 14
Level 40, Sim-deck 25, Glom Space station, Kirox Quadrant
The party was just leaving the church when Karina suddenly piped up. “Daddy! I need to throw the bouquet!”
“Oh, of course,” he gasped. “See who the next lucky lady is to get hitched.” He winked at Sean, who tried to maintain a polite expression. He thought about warning the others not to play the game, but then figured that Vito couldn’t exactly go around insisting that random couples get married.
Vito shuffled everyone around and down the steps, leaving Karina standing at the top, pleased as punch. Station staff scuttled by with a gurney with a black body bag on top and adeptly navigated their way down the steps and out of the way of the guests.
Molly’s crew and the remaining wedding guests assembled obediently. Molly deliberately stood at the back, out of the way and ready to leave for the bar. The idea of a proper drink was increasingly appealing with each social interaction she suffered through.
“On three!” Vito called, waving a stick as if conducting an orchestra. “Everybody count! Big throw Karina, dear!”
Karina turned around, bouquet in hand, and began winding up to toss it behind her.
The crowd counted with increasing hope and enthusiasm.
“One.”
“Two.”
“Three!” The bouquet left Karina’s hands and flew up into the air. It had height rather than distance, Molly noted. This meant it would come down right in the middle of the crowd.
There were squeals of delight. Dozens of female hands went up into the air, reaching for the symbolic bunch of flowers that held bizarre magical prophecies of them bagging a mate.
Molly smiled, watching.
Joel nudged her. Molly glanced briefly at him, taking her eyes off the crowd for a split second. Joel was looking in the direction of the bouquet. Molly followed his gaze.
Fuuuuuuuck!
It was coming straight for her. She moved to shield her face, having only an instant to make a move before it would hit her in the face. Her hands went up and without thinking about the repercussions, she caught it.
The crowd erupted in a cheer. Joel threw his arm around her, amused at her reaction. Molly stood, mouth agape and cheeks beet red.
Her eyes met with Karina’s. Karina seemed quite satisfied with herself. Molly wasn’t sure why.
Then, she also noticed three or four of the ladies, including the Krenlock, glaring at her, unamused. Everyone else seemed quite pleased with the result. It probably helped that Joel was right next to her and the obvious candidate for a match.
Molly, unsure of quite what she should do, waved to Karina and tried to thank her with a thumbs-up. Then she shoved the flowers into Joel’s arms and started walking out of the sim deck.
She needed a drink.
And she hoped to hell this wasn’t a real mission, or else she’d be forced to stay sober and alert. Only another conversation with Sean would determine that. She glanced behind her to see him with his bride and the crowd breaking up and heading to the door, too. Joel was talking with Jack and Pieter, showing them the flowers.
She shook her head and strode toward the exit. If she couldn’t get a drink straight away, at least she could remove herself from this nightmare of a social occasion.
Lance’s Office, Aboard The ArchAngel, Sark System
Barb sat next to Carol, one arm around her back, consoling her as the shell of a director for clandestine services sobbed quietly into a tissue.
“I made a horrible mistake,” she confessed. Philip stood on the other side of the room, more of an observer than a participant in the conversation.
Lance poured her another drink and handed it to her. Barb took it from him and placed it on the table, well aware that the last thing Carol needed was more alcohol in her system.
“We need to find Molly,” Carol continued.
Lance rocked on his heels. “Oh, we know exactly where Molly is,” he revealed.
Carol looked up confused. “How come?”
“Carol,” Lance said firmly, without a hint of condescension, “this is the Federation. And I can’t let you in on the details of our tech. You’re a foreign government. But we’ve pinpointed the exact space station, and we’re making arrangements to speak with her directly. I can assure you she’s safe. For now.”
“For now?” Philip interjected.
“Yes, for now,” he replied. He turned back to Carol. “You were right about your daughter being in danger. Just wrong about the location of the danger. ADAM analyzed the data you turned over. It seems that our suspicions are correct. There are indeed threats brewing in your own backyard… without you needing to send her off into the middle of a mob wedding.”
“A mob wedding?” Carol interrupted.
“Yes. Seems that’s why she’s been unreachable.”
“Not hers I hope?” Carol asked, her eyes wide with alarm.
“No, no,” Lance confirmed. “She’s attending one as I hear it. Hence the shootout.”
“How can you know that?” Carol asked. “You can’t possibly be receiving intel over those distances. They haven’t been gone a few days. How can you know what she’s doing right now?”
Lance smiled. “Like I said, tech-knowledgy. And the how is on a need-to-know basis only.” He chuckled to himself and looked to Philip for support. “Get it. Knowledge. Tech—Oh, never mind.”
“But she’s safe?” Carol pressed.
“Yes, she’s safe. They’ve got everything under control.”
Philip interjected again. “So, what about this trouble brewing in our own backyard?”
Lance took a deep breath and wandered around to his console chair at his desk. “Well, the chatter is indicating that there are people maneuvering into certain positions of power in order to create some kind of movement on the government. Have you ever heard of the Northern Clan of Cambodian?”
“No,” Philip responded promptly.
Lance looked to Carol. She shook her head. “No, me neither.”
“Well, you might wanna get eyes on them. They’ve moved three of their people into key military positions in the last twelve months, and now, we’ve noticed an influx of funds into the markets.” He paused. “You remember the Newstainment takeover?”
“Yes, but that was legit,” Carol countered, clearly confused by the unrelated events.
“It was,” Lance agreed. “But it’s still looking like someone is going to want to be controlling military and media. Something is coming, Carol. And you folks aren’t ready.”
Philip noticed how Carol didn’t react to the statement, which would normally have made her react defensively. “What do we need in order to be ready?” she asked instead.
“Us,” Lance said flatly. “Or more specifically, your daughter. You are aware that she has been training the planet’s brightest and best to be ambassadors to protect your way of life?”
“Well, I was—”
Lance kept talking. “She’s got an approach, and we just need to extend the approach to get these bright young things into positions where they can protect your citizens from what could be an impending tyranny.”
“Are there any specific threats? I can have a team on it—”
Lance had been fiddling with a cigar on his desk. He tossed it down in front of him and leaned back in his seat. “Getting a team on it isn’t going to help. This is cyb-illa warfare.”
“Cybilla?” Carol queried, wiping one side of her face and under her eyes for any residue of tears.
“Yeah, it’s cyber and guerilla, and it’s happening right under your noses.”
ADAM’s voice connected through Lance’s implant. “Sir, we have an incoming call request from Molly. Would you like to take it here? Or in your private office?”
Lance raised one finger to his guests. “Folks, Molly is making contact. I need to take this call. I’m going to try and get her up to speed so she’s got time to process this on the way back.”
The others watched and nodded.
Lance rocked back in his chair. “Okay, ADAM. Let’s take the call here.”
A holoscreen opened from his desk console, revealing an image of Molly looking somewhat worse for wear.
Capitol Building, Spire, Estaria
Commander Richard Ekks placed his parade hat on the desk and sat down at his console in his new office. It was a pleasant relief to finally be able to close the door and mellow in the peace and quiet.
The day had been filled first with a parade ceremony in his honor and then a series of meetings and introductions, followed up with back slapping at the Senate.
He leaned back in his anti-grav chair.
I could get used to this, he thought, swiveling around and taking in the view of Spire from the tenth floor of the government building. He rocked himself gently for a few minutes, appreciating the moment.
Then, his holo chirped. It was an incoming call. He hit receive and sat up.
“Congratulations, Commander!” It was Raj Ghetti. He looked like he was on a space station somewhere. Richard never quite knew where Raj worked out of. He always seemed to be in transit or visiting somewhere. He’d spoken of an office on Ogg once, but Richard suspected it was for show.
“Mr. Ghetti, what a wonderful surprise!” Richard replied.
“How are you finding life as a commander of the Estarian-Ogg Space Fleet?”
“I’m liking it very much, sir. And I know it’s in no small part thanks to you and your group. I must extend my sincerest gratitude for everything you’ve done to get me here.”
Raj waved his hand. “You’re welcome. But don’t thank me yet. This isn’t a free lunch.”
“Of course, sir. I’m just honored to have the opportunity.”
Raj smiled enigmatically. “Good. Well, I’ll be in town in a few days. We should do lunch, and I’ll fill you in with some details which will interest you very much.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. This isn’t a secure line, and, of course, it’s of a sensitive nature.”
“Of course,” Richard agreed politely. “I understand.”
“Good. Well, I’ll have my people contact your people and we’ll set it up.”
“I’ll look forward to it, sir.”
“Excellent. And congratulations again, Commander.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Ghetti ended the call and the screen went blank. Richard sat once again in the quiet, pleased as punch that he had this new position. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he had a niggling feeling that the price tag it came with was much higher than he’d originally been led to believe.
He shook the thought from his consciousness and turned his attention to some messages he needed to respond to.
Chapter 15
Entertainment Deck, Bronislovas Trading Outpost, Kirox Quadrant
The music had already begun.
At least, Molly assumed it was music. She wasn’t sure if it was of a Yollin influence or something entirely different she had never even heard of. All she knew was that some of the guests who had already started drinking were bopping away to it from their chairs. It wouldn’t be long until the dance floor in the center of the room would be filled with inebriated guests.
Her eyes scanned the scene, straining to make out Sean from amongst the numerous human and cyborg faces. Her eyes fought against the flashing lights and decorative lasers. She could feel the frustration rising in her chest.
Where the fuck is he?
I suspect he’ll be along shortly if he’s not already here.
As if on cue, there was a commotion behind her as cheering guests entered with Sean and his bride in their midst.
Molly rolled her eyes. It was bizarre to see Royale playing this part. She waited by the side as the rest of the party arrived, took pictures, and did the necessary convention of handshakes and what-have-yous. She noticed Joel and the others congratulated him and then headed into the party. Only Jack hung back, made eye contact with Molly, and then disappeared out of the door again.
I’m guessing she’s staying alert to any other threats.
Yes. I think so. She, like you, isn’t convinced this is just a wedding.
She’s a smart cookie.
Eventually, after several torturous minutes, Molly was able to get Sean away from the frivolity and pull him to one side.
“Okay, I need to know,” Molly demanded, keeping her voice just loud enough for Sean to hear.
“Need to know what?” he asked, confused.
“What your plan is. We need to be ready, and the last thing I want is for the team to be caught unawares when you make your move.”
“Move? What move?”
Molly shifted her weight to her other foot. “The one you’ve been biding your time to make. I assume you’re bringing the girl with us?”
Sean shook his head. “Molly, there is no move.”
Molly frowned. She put two fingers to her ear to ask if they were being surveyed.
Sean shook his head. “No. It’s just that this was it. This was the plan. Now Karina and I are free to… well, do whatever we want.”
Molly still wasn’t understanding. “You mean… you’re not coming back to the Federation with us?”
“Oh… well, probably. I mean, we haven’t really talked about it. But I assumed we would.” Sean seemed to have lost his certainty.
Molly’s frown narrowed her eyes. “And if we weren’t here, what was your plan for getting back?” she asked, clearly suspicious now.
Sean put his hands on his hips and nodded in the direction of the old man from the wedding. “I’m sure my new father-in-law would have a ship he could lend us.” He grinned.
Molly stood motionless for a moment.
I don’t get it, Oz. There is no threat?
I guess not. Other than the one we’ve already neutralized. And that was just inter-family feuding by the looks of the IDs on the stations’ servers.
So, what now?
Now we get to go home, I guess. Unless you want to let the others enjoy the party. For the sake of team morale, I would recommend that.
Molly wiped at her face, her agitation showing. “Okay, one more time, Sean. Am I right in understanding that there is going to be no move, no operation, no escape?”
Sean shrugged. “Nothing to escape from. We can leave whenever we want, although I’d wait until we at least cut the cake, or else that would just be rude.”
Molly put her hands on her hips briefly, subconsciously following Sean’s cues. “Well… okay then. I’ll go check in with the boss and then see about getting us some rooms for the night. We’ll leave tomorrow.”
Sean glanced over at Karina, who was on the dance floor with a champagne glass in her hand. “Okay. Lemme talk to the Mrs. If she’s down with it, we’ll come back with you. If that’s okay?”
Molly nodded. “That would be okay,” she confirmed. She turned on her heels and headed back out of the event room.
He has no idea we thought he was dead.
No. Best leave that conversation for another time.
Okay, let’s talk to the general and get this over with. I feel like I need to sleep for about a week at this point.
Connecting a call now.
Molly found a quiet corner of the lobby with chairs and a few lamps, out of the way from prying ears. She looked around, thinking that these space stations were like a hotel combined with a mall, all architected to extravagance.
The call connected within minutes.
“Ms. Bates.” The general appeared on her holoscreen.
“General.” Molly nodded politely. “I take it you’ve heard that Sean Royale is alive and well.”
“I have. Thank you for your part in that.” He frowned, peering closer at his holoscreen. “Is that music I hear?”
Molly chuckled dryly. “That’s debatable.”
Lance smirked. “Indeed. So what’s going on? Where are you?”
“Would you believe I’m at a wedding reception?”
“No, I would not. Befriending the locals, are we?”
“Something like that. But specifically, that would be Sean.”
“How so?”
“Oh, we showed up to rescue him and found him in the middle of getting married.”
Lance’s eyes flickered with recognition.
Molly was onto him. “You knew about this?”
Lance shifted awkwardly in his chair, elbow on the table and free hand fiddling with his cigar. “We’ve been collecting intel at this end. Though we didn’t have confirmation until just now. So, what did you do? I take it you intervened.”
Molly lowered her eyes. “Well, sir, I tried to. It seemed Sean wasn’t under duress. And I’ve just spoken to him now. If this is some mission he’s working, he’s not letting me in on it.”
Lance chewed on the end of a cigar. “Fascinating,” he whispered. “What do you make of it?”
“I thought at first he was just trying to save the girl, but it looks like the threat, if there ever was one, has passed. He’d like to bring her back with us, though.”
Lance coughed. “Well, I say.” He coughed again. “Who is she?”
Molly shrugged. “I haven’t gotten a proper look at her yet. Things have been kinda hectic. But I can try and find out. Shouldn’t be too hard. Sean is calling her Karina, but I’d take that with a pinch of salt.”
Lance scratched the top of his head. “Ah, well, actually, this is making sense.”
“How so?”
“Well, there’s a lot to catch you up on, but it seems your mother sent an operative out there. Her name is Karina. Her task was indeed to do exactly what she seems to have accomplished.”
Molly frowned. “My mom?”
“Yes,” Lance said, looking the most awkward Molly had ever seen him. “She’s right here,” he added.
Carol popped into view. “Hello, dear!” she called, waving. She muttered something to Lance about how it looks like an ordinary holo.
Molly did a double take. Her head spun. She could feel herself becoming woozy. “I don’t understand…”
Lance was talking, but his words were disappearing from her ears. She heard her mom explaining that they kept something a secret from her. To keep her safe.
Lance was talking again. “Molly? Are you okay?”
“Yes, sir.”
“It seems you weren’t aware that your parents were spies?”
“Parents? You mean both of them?”
“Er... yes, dear.” Her mom came back into view again. “I’m sorry to break it to you like this, but there is a lot we need to fill you in on. It’s becoming mission critical now.”
“How can you both be spooks? I… you ran a business. I got you into trouble.”
“No dear, we got ourselves into trouble. And that’s why we had to change our cover and why your father retired.”
“But…”
Lance leaned forward, taking up the screen and blocking her mother out. “Molly, it’s all going to be okay. I understand that this is coming as a shock. I’m sorry. If I’d known, I would have done this differently. But it’s going to take you a little time to get back, and there are some things I’d like you to think about.”
Molly nodded obediently. Her eyes looked stunned, but no longer was there a trace of fear. More confusion as she reevaluated everything she had ever known.
Lance explained to her briefly about the impending threats they’d uncovered. “We’ll relay our intel to you so you can review it en route, but you might also find that the team members you left behind are already all over it, too.”
“Paige and Maya?”
“Yes. ADAM has noticed they are working on it from another angle. I’ll let them fill you in.”
“Okay. So, what do you need me to do?”
Lance’s face was severe. He put his cigar down and looked into the camera. “Big picture? Protect the citizens. Don’t let this organization take over.”
Molly felt the world spinning again. “This is huge!” she protested. “I can’t do this.”
Lance sat back in his chair, looking momentarily irritated. Then immediately, his face softened. “Seems we selected the wrong person to discover Gaitune.” Molly couldn’t tell, but she thought she saw a hint of a smile.
Molly’s expression changed. Her back straightened. “No sir, you did not. This is what we’ve been working toward. We’ll get the job done.”
“Thank you, Ms. Bates. Keep me posted.”
The call disconnected. Molly felt herself reeling from shock. She sat for several minutes staring at the dark patterned carpet. She was vaguely aware of people walking past, looking at her, probably wondering what she was doing. She didn’t care. She needed time to process. To understand. To rewrite history in her own mind.
I need a drink.
Bar is back the way you came.
Thanks, Oz.
Lance’s Office, Aboard The ArchAngel, Sark System
Carol closed her eyes, frowning. “So, what do we do?”
Lance leaned forward in his seat and looked from Carol to Philip and back again. “I think that’s something we should talk about when your daughter gets back to the system.”
“When will she be back?” Carol asked spontaneously.
“Soon. In the meantime, why don’t you both head back to Estaria and get moving on what you can piece together? I’ll have Barb relay some key details to you to help you out.”
Philip shifted on the spot. “But we talked about this. I’m retired.”
Lance smiled an enigmatic smile. “You’ll probably want to come out of retirement for this. They’re going to need you.”
“But I’m old,” he protested, looking to his wife to back him up. “Too old for running around and gathering intel!”
Lance sat up and looked directly at him. “Not too old to teach the next generation.”
“Spycraft?”
“Yes and no. More counterintelligence. And whatever it takes to keep the population safe from hostile takeover.”
Carol interrupted. “You mean a coup?”
“Potentially,” Lance agreed casually. “It will be sneakier than a coup, though. The people won’t even see it happening.”
“We haven’t got the resources for this,” Carol protested.
“Oh, I think your daughter can be incredibly resourceful. You just need to sit down with her on her turf. We’ll fill her in on our conversation when she reports in. But in the meantime, you two should get back to the surface and ready yourselves to be on board with this. Or otherwise. If you’re not in, I understand. But it would be a waste of good people if we can’t count on you. And we won’t be able to guarantee the outcome of things to come…”
Philip glanced nervously at his wife and then at Barb, who seemed equally concerned by the conversation. “We’ll be ready,” he confirmed. “We’ve got to be.”
Carol fiddled with the edge of her jacket nervously. It was now the only thing that gave away the fact that she was still feeling emotional. Or that her world had been turned upside down. Anyone else walking into the room at that point would have assumed that she was in complete control. Her deportment, the expression of her face, everything pointed to signs that this woman was in control.
She glanced down at her holo and poked at a couple of screens. Then she leaned forward, grabbed the drink that Barb had set to one side, and downed it in one. She looked to the general and nodded, and then to Barb. “Thank you,” she said kindly, patting her arm.
And then she got up and marched out of the room.
Philip waved awkwardly, faffing and muttering goodbyes and apologies, and trotted after her.
Lance watched them leave.
“Sooooooo…” Barb cooed, trying to read the general’s expression. “Mission accomplished?”
Lance sighed and stood up. “Too soon to tell. I think the rest is going to be down to Ms. Bates Junior when she arrives back.”
Barb nodded once. She picked up Carol’s empty martini glass and placed it back on the general’s drinks tray. “Alrighty then, boss. I’ll let you get on. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”
“Will do, Barb. Thank you. You did an excellent job!”
“Any time.” She waved, wandering out of the office. Then she stopped. “Actually,” she said, pausing and turning back to him. “Next time, there will be conditions. An exchange. That woman is… intense!” She grinned.
Lance chuckled. “No problem, Barb. I appreciate it. Have a great trip. I’ll see you when you get back.”
“Sure. We’ll have you and Patricia around.”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
Barb continued out of the office, leaving the general alone for the first time since the Bates fiasco had started. He sat back in his chair, picked up his cigar, and popped it in his mouth. He stared into space for some time, replaying the events of the last several hours.
Entertainment Deck, Bronislovas Trading Outpost, Kirox Quadrant
The wedding reception was well underway. Drinks of all kinds of origin were being knocked back by dancing and laughing guests. If Joel didn’t know better, he would have thought this was a normal, happy occasion and not the wedding of the daughter of the sector’s most feared criminal. He took it all in, nursing his drink and standing with his elbows against the bar.
Sean came over and took a refill from the bartender. “So, what do you think?” he asked, gesturing with his newly freshened glass at the party in front of them.
Joel leaned closer to be able to hear him over the music. “I never thought I’d see you getting married!” he said.
“Yeah, me neither,” Sean confessed. “Just kinda happened.”
“Don’t worry,” Joel said a little quieter and making sure Karina wasn’t around. “We’ll get you out of it. Can’t be that difficult. Bet this sim deck thing doesn’t even count.”
Sean turned and looked at him seriously. He shuffled closer so they wouldn’t have to raise their voices as much. “I’m… not sure I’ll be wanting to do that.”
“What do you mean? You didn’t seriously intend to marry this girl?”
Sean nodded. “Well, not originally. But…”
“Sean Royale!” Joel exclaimed. “Are you telling me this wasn’t just a ruse to get out of some tight corner?”
“It was… to begin with. But… you know.”
“But you can’t know this girl. You’ve only been gone a few days.”
“Actually, we do have history.”
Joel laughed. “You dark horse. What else have you been keeping from us?”
Sean shrugged and finished his liquor. “That is above your clearance level!”
Joel shuffled a little closer to him so the two men were now elbow to elbow, leaning on the bar, looking out at the guests making mistakes they were going to regret in the morning. “So seriously, bud, what is it? Why are you marrying this girl for real?”
Sean sighed. “I feel like I need to. I can’t really explain it, but some of our history, I was… selfish. I had to choose between the job and her, and obviously, I chose the job. But where has that got me? I mean, sure, I have a good life and a good team. But when everything has been about the mission for such a long time, you start to wonder—”
“What else there is,” Joel said, finishing his sentence.
Sean nodded.
Joel raised his glass to clink with Sean’s. “Well, here’s to finding out what else there is!” The two men toasted Sean’s new beginning and continued drinking well into the night, barely moving from the same spot.
* * *
Molly perched on a strange anti-grav barstool at the bar. It floated and morphed as if it didn’t really have a fixed form. But strangely, she didn’t feel seasick. Or like she was going to fall off it anytime soon. She idly wondered if it emitted some kind of brain wave stabilizing signal. It wouldn’t have surprised her. It was the same tech used on the sim deck.
She noticed Joel and Sean propping up the bar at the opposite end of the large entertainment suite. Having persuaded the bartender to leave the bottle of tequila with her, she alternated between staring blankly at the bottle label, pouring, drinking, and watching the others cavorting on the dance floor.
Unsurprisingly, Brock was stealing the show with his dance moves. It seemed he was able to pick up any style of dance with any species. Molly barely knew half of the strange beings that were at the wedding party, let alone their customs or dance moves. Brock was good at making friends.
Occasionally, Crash and Pieter would join him, but they seemed to be a little more reserved, despite the free alcohol that was flowing. She’d noticed even Jack put in an appearance now and again, although she didn’t seem to be drinking.
It was probably a good thing, she thought, considering they were technically on enemy turf.
Molly became aware of someone sitting in the stool next to her. She turned, seeing someone dressed in white. It took a moment for her to register that it was indeed Karina, the bride.
“Hey,” Karina ventured. The bar man handed her a glass, and she scooted closer to Molly. “How are you liking my party?”
Molly rolled her lips, thinking for the polite and socially correct thing to say. “It’s a very nice party.” She paused, trying to make an effort, despite her conflicted feelings. “Congratulations,” she added, pouring Karina a drink. “I hope you’ll both be very happy together.”
Karina accepted the drink and clinked glasses with her. The two then downed the liquor. Molly refilled the glasses.
“You don’t approve,” Karina stated flatly.
Molly had done her token politeness. “I do not,” she agreed, downing another shot.
Karina shifted on her anti-grav stool. “I understand. If my friend ran away and then showed up married, I would have questions, too.”
Molly ignored her and poured another drink.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Karina tried again, this time with less gentleness in her voice.
“Loss?” Molly smarted. “I haven’t lost him. You think he’s going to go along with this scheme you’ve got cooking up? I can tell you he will not. He’s going to wake up in the morning and realize that all of this was a big mistake, and he’s going to get back on our ship and fly out of here as quickly as he flew in.”
Karina looked affronted. “I don’t think you know Sean very well.”
“I know him a hell of a lot better than you do,” she retorted, taking another drink.
“I don’t think so, princess,” Karina shot back. The softness had gone from her voice. She sounded arrogant. Like she suddenly owned Sean. And every domain over him.
“Who are you calling princess, Mob Princess?”
Okay, Molly, now would be a good time to walk away.
This bitch thinks she can just come along and change everything.
Molly!
No.
“No, I’m not having it!” she said out loud to Karina. “You think you can flutter your eyelashes and tear Sean away from everything he knows and loves… for what? A life in the mob? A life on the run? You’ve guilted him into doing this. And you’re going to damn well undo it!”
Karina was on her feet, taking up a fighting stance. She pulled her high-heeled princess shoes off one by one, throwing them down against the bar. “You can think again! You’re just an angry person. And you’re jealous.”
“Jealous of what?” Molly shouted back, climbing off her stool. “Of a daddy’s girl who gets everything she wants? Who has an aimless life… and thinks that marrying a soldier is her ticket for a life of adventure?”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about!”
Molly could feel the fury coursing through her veins. She grabbed the nearest thing that she could use as a weapon: the near-empty tequila bottle. “Oh yeah, and I suppose you’re going to tell me?” she shouted.
They didn’t realize but the music had stopped and people were looking at them.
“Princess, what are you doing?” a voice called out from the crowd. “Stop this at once!” It was Karina’s father shouting from the middle of the dance floor.
Brock was mid-lift with some scaly creature and ended up putting her down. Before he could replace her on the floor, Joel and Sean came running across the dance floor.
Sean immediately stood in front of Karina, and Joel stood between them, pulling Molly to one side.
Joel held her arm tightly, taking the tequila bottle off her. “Come on. This isn’t you. You’re just stressed out…”
Sean had his hands out defensively. “It’s okay, Molly. It’s all going to be okay. Karina isn’t planning anything.”
“The hell she isn’t,” Molly shouted over Joel’s shoulder.
“Come on, let’s take a walk.” Joel led her out of a side door to the bar and out into one of the large, luxurious corridors. “Come on, walk it off. This isn’t who you are.”
Molly’s eyes started to stream, putting mascara down her face. She stumbled a little, slurring her words. “I just don’t understand why he did this! He didn’t have to. And it’s not like he loves her. He’s just trying to be a good person and rescue her from her shit life.”
Joel sighed. “I think it’s a little more complicated than that. But if it helps, I don’t think he’s planning to go anywhere. I mean, other than home with us.”
Molly wiped at her face. “Did he say that?”
“Yeah,” Joel stepped closer to her. “It’s all going to be fine. Everything will be the same, only—”
“He’ll be married?” Molly interjected. “I mean, what are we going to do? Set them up with a couple’s quarters on base? And then listen to their arguments every night?”
Joel laughed. “Who said they’re going to argue?”
She shook her head and scuffed at the floor with the toe of her boot. “That’s what all married couples do. They act like they’re so in love in front of people, because having a wedding and a marriage is a big-ass ego trip for them, and then behind closed doors, they do nothing but shout and yell and make each other miserable, until one of them leaves.”
Joel narrowed his eyes. “Is that what you think?”
“That’s what I know.”
Joel didn’t say anything. Instead, he carefully waited until he could get close without fear of being punched. Tequila bottle in one hand, he hugged her as she sobbed.
“Why is it that I end up being the bad guy?”
“You’re not the bad guy,” he told her. “You came out here to save his ass… and you’re still just trying to do that. It’s just the threat isn’t carrying a gun.”
“So, you agree? You think she’s trouble?”
“I didn’t say that. We need to trust.” He felt Molly’s body tighten and start to pull away. “But verify,” he added.
Molly relaxed again. She hugged him back.
“Come on. Let’s go get you cleaned up. And maybe a mocha.”
She pouted. “I’m not allowed to drink mocha.”
“I’m allowing you, just for tonight,” he told her.
“So, I don’t sleep?”
“Okay, good point. I’ll find you something without the stims then.”
He started walking her toward the restrooms. “Off you go. I’ll be right out here. If you’re not out in a few minutes, I’m coming in after you. Gender taboos be dammed!”
Molly almost giggled through her tears as she headed into the restroom.
Chapter 16
Bronislovas Trading Outpost, Kirox Quadrant
The next morning, there was a knock at Molly’s door.
…the fuck?
It’s Joel.
Where am I?
In a hotel room. On the Bronislovas Outpost still.
Molly clamped her hand to her head. She winced, but even wincing hurt.
So much for an upgrade.
It’s okay. Now that you’re conscious, I can metabolize whatever it is. I didn’t want to stop you sleeping.
Molly felt something like a shot of adrenaline whooshing through her body. Her eyes flew open, and like a shot, she was up and out of bed.
So, you can control the nanocytes?
Yeah, I’ve been toying with them in the background. You wouldn’t have noticed.
So, this means I can drink mocha again?
Well, I wouldn’t go deliberately trying to mess with your system like that but—
Okay, good to know.
There was another knock at the door.
Molly padded over to it, rearranging her clothing that had twisted around her as she slept. She hit the button on the side panel, and the door opened, revealing a very enthusiastic looking Joel.
“Morning!” he said brightly, holding a package of what looked like takeout mochas and snacks.
Molly stepped to one side to allow him to pass. “I hate morning people,” she grumbled.
“Well, you’re not going to hate me. I managed to find a lemon on this forsaken place, hence lemon tea. Plus, I got us both a mocha, because, well, I promised you last night when you were a drunken mess. And I couldn’t risk Oz recording it and you throwing it back at me.”
He reached into the tray of drinks he was carrying and handed one to her. “Figuratively, of course. This stuff would scald if you actually threw it back at me. So please don’t do that.”
Molly smiled. “Thanks, Joel. You’re… you’re the best friend I’ve ever had. And I don’t tell you that enough.”
Joel immediately looked suspicious. “You okay?”
Oz’s voice piped up over their implants. “Actually, sorry, that was me. I think her oxytocin levels were elevated as a response to us flushing the toxins out of her system.”
Joel looked concerned. “Toxins? You mean the alcohol?”
“Well,” Oz explained, “it seems that out here in this sector of space, alcohol is mixed with other intoxicants which act in different ways. She’s probably going to want that lemon water as well. And a couple more after that. Dehydration is an issue.”
Joel waved to the package as he plonked it down on the desk in the room. “It’s here when you’re ready.” He picked up a couple of paper bags he had perched on the cups. “Plus, I got croissants.”
Molly grinned. “Joel, you’re the best!”
“Chocolate or almond?” he asked.
“Almond,” she responded without a pause.
He grinned, handing her a packet. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
The two shuffled back onto the bed with the croissants and mochas to enjoy a quiet breakfast before the inevitable came up.
“I’m guessing we should talk about last night?” Molly asked between bites. “That’s why you’re here?”
“No,” he said slowly and deliberately. “I’m here because I wanted to make sure you’re all right. And because you’re my friend and I wanted to have breakfast with you.”
Molly frowned. “And you didn’t know what to tell the others about our next move?”
Joel tilted his head from side to side. “It wasn’t my reason, but we ought to decide on that, too.”
Molly bobbed her head, sucking on the plastic lid of her mocha.
Joel continued. “I spoke with both Sean and Karina. They’re keen to come back with us and will be ready to leave whenever we are.”
Molly frowned. “Just like that?”
“Yeah, I think they’re concerned about Karina’s dad changing his mind about letting them go.”
“Figures,” she muttered.
There was silence for a few moments.
Finally, Molly said what was on her mind. “What do you make of all this?”
Joel shrugged. “I really don’t know. We can only go along with what Sean is telling us, and even though this started off one way, it seems they are married for real now.”
Molly pressed her lips together and stared at the dark purple bed sheets, wishing she had never woken up.
Joel reached over and put a hand on her knee. “It’s going to be okay. Change happens. It doesn’t mean that everything is going to fall apart. You’ve got a great team, and even if Sean were to leave—”
Her eyes locked on to his in panic. “You think he’s going to leave?”
“No, I actually don’t. But I’m guessing that’s what’s got you all rattled.”
Molly bobbed her head gently, neither confirming nor denying the assumption.
“Anyway,” he continued. “I think we just need to get out of this section of space before anything else happens. My guess is that when news of that wedding got out to the Don’s enemies, they saw it as an opportunity to strike when all the family was together. As long as we remain here with them, we’re in danger. And obviously, Sean and Karina are in danger of being thrown back into a dungeon.”
Molly coughed, laughing. “The father-in-law threw them in a dungeon?”
“Yeah, apparently. Until they agreed to get married.”
Molly’s face visibly brightened. “Oh my. Okay, this is making a little bit more sense to me now.”
Joel sniggered. “I see. We need to find the logic for you to be able accept something.”
Molly frowned at him. “Well, yeah. Of course…”
Joel chuckled. “Okay. Great. So, do you think now we could give the team a boarding time?”
Molly grinned. “Oh yes, indeed. I didn’t need to understand this whole thing to know I wanted to get us out of here. Oz? Can we tell them wheels up in two hours? And tell them to pay attention to what’s around them. We may still be in danger of mob retaliation.”
“Copy that,” Oz confirmed in their audio implants.
Aboard The Empress,Bronislovas Trading Outpost, Kirox Quadrant
Molly watched idly out the lounge window of The Empress as Karina hugged her father. She noticed they were both crying.
So strange. She spent half her life running and hiding from him, and now they’re all sentimental and shit.
It’s family.
You’re an AI. What do you know about family?
You’re my family. If anything happened to you…
Oh.
Molly suddenly felt ashamed of her insensitivity.
“All right, party people!” Crash’s voice came over the comm. He had his pilot’s intonation on. “Time to find your seats and your hangover cures of choice. Grab your nearest and dearest and fasten your seat belts. We’re just waiting for our guests to get their asses on board, and we’ll be out of here.”
Molly heard the chuckling coming from the team members who were already on board and ready to leave, albeit a little worse for wear.
Karina stumbled into the cabin carrying a large hold-all and wearing sunglasses to hide her eyes. “Is he talking about us?” she asked, amused and a little indignant.
Sean helped steady her and took her bag for stowing. “I believe he is.”
Crash continued. “We at Air Empress offer our sincere condolences to the newly married couple.”
Pieter and Jack burst out in hysterical laughter. Joel moved over a seat to let Sean sit with him. Karina kept moving, sniggering, despite herself.
Joel noted her response as a good trait. She was obviously able to laugh at herself and wasn’t oversensitive to other people’s teasing.
Crash continued. “Obviously, I’m kidding. Congratulations, guys. And thanks for the free booze!”
More chuckles.
Crash continued, assuming his pilot’s voice again. “Please keep your hands and arms inside the spacecraft. We’ll be pushing away shortly, at which time I seriously suggest you put your seatbelts on. Emma is cranky, having missed the party, so Air Empress cannot guarantee either your safety or a smooth ride. You have been warned.”
Emma’s voice chirped up over the intercom. “Don’t worry, folks. I’ve got this. It seems that Crash is pre-blaming me for any problems because, well, in his hungover state, he already forgot to disengage the flux brake.”
More sniggering emanated from the cabin. Crash didn’t make another announcement over the intercom until much later when Emma’s interjected commentary had been forgotten.
Karina, still teary but smiling at the banter, stopped at the seat next to Molly. She took off her sunglasses and popped them in the pocket of the seat in front of her. “Hey,” she said, taking her atmosjacket off, sitting and doing up her seatbelt.
Molly nodded politely, her lips subconsciously pressed together.
Be nice!
Dammit, Oz. It’s an invasion of space.
Get over it.
She could have sat anywhere! Look at all those empty rows of seats!
And I think it says something important that she came and sat next to you.
Like what? That she wants to torment me and take up my personal space?
No. Like… she’s trying to build a bridge with you.
Screw that.
No, Molly. This is what human-ing is all about.
Molly sighed and slumped down in her chair like a frustrated teenager.
“You okay?” Karina asked.
Molly felt immediately embarrassed and sat up again. “Erm, yeah.” She hesitated. “I should be asking you that.”
“I’m fine. It’s just… you know, family.”
“Yeah. Who’d have ‘em?”
The two girls chuckled awkwardly, unaware of Joel and Sean switching their seats to sit behind them so they could overhear what they were saying.
“I’m sorry you’re sad about leaving your dad,” Molly offered.
“It’s okay. There was a time when I gave up everything to get away from him. And now that he’s not trying to make me stay or be a part of the family business, I’m kinda sad about leaving him.”
Molly did a doubletake. “You’ve left here before?” she asked, frowning now.
“Yeah. I mean, wouldn’t you?”
Molly shrugged. “I dunno.”
“You know they’re like a boondocks kind of mafia out here,” Karina explained. “My father is one of the most vicious Dons in this area of space.”
Molly bobbed her head, smiling. “I’d kinda gathered that.”
“So, you can imagine I had much to rebel against.”
Molly raised her eyebrows, trying to hide any hint of skepticism or sarcasm in her voice. “Wow. It’s amazing you didn’t turn out crazy.”
Be nice!
“Nearly did,” Karina admitted. “Until Sean rescued me.”
“You mean the other day?”
“No before…”
Molly shifted around in her seat, actually engaged in the conversation. “How do you mean?”
Karina sighed, pausing for a moment as she felt the ship decouple from the docking bay and start moving. “Well, it’s like I was telling you. He and I have history. He rescued me from this hellhole and gave me a new life. Only, at the time, it wasn’t with him. This is what he’s calling his do-over.”
Molly felt her chest ache as she realized that this really wasn’t just a mission. “Oh. I see. I… had no idea.”
Karina shrugged. “There was no reason you’d know. It was top secret, and if anyone ever figured it out… well, Daddy dearest would have found me and had me killed.”
“And yet, he was standing there at your wedding.” Molly realized she was still confused.
“The wedding was his idea.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. But it was a good one. A good idea, that is. And now that’s one less person who wants me dead.”
Molly bobbed her head, then paused. “You mean there are others?”
“Errr. Yeah…” Karina seemed to brace herself. “Molly, I don’t know how to tell you this. I thought we might have gotten into it yesterday… because I wanted you to know the whole truth. But then… you know, tequila bottles happened and…” She smiled sheepishly.
Molly started to feel irritated, like she was being accused.
She’s not blaming you. She’s trying to open up.
Okay. Okay. I’m chill…
Karina took a deep breath. “But I know your mom.”
Molly heard the words but didn’t understand them. It was like she was mentally repeating words on a shopping list. And then she managed to process them.
You know this already.
I know. But I still don’t have the full picture. I want her version.
“How?” her voice croaked as if she were detached from it.
“Well, she was, erm… my handler when Sean found me a new life.”
“My mom and Sean know each other?”
Karina shifted around to face Molly better. “I don’t know about that, exactly. They’re aware of each other, though. I think. Well, your mom knows Sean, because she… well, she doesn’t like him much.”
The girls heard a grunt behind them and simultaneously turned to catch Sean closing his eyes, pretending to be asleep.
Karina reacted. “Sean Royale, if you want to eavesdrop on this conversation, you can bloody well share what you know!”
Sean grunted again and opened one eye sleepily. “Huh? What? No, you carry on…”
Karina shook her head and turned back to Molly.
Molly rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry. We have a debrief scheduled for when we get back to Gaitune. So, what do you know? How does she know him?”
“From the agency,” Karina stated flatly, watching carefully for Molly’s reaction.
Molly’s face froze. “Am I the only one who didn’t know my parents were spooks?”
Karina fiddled with her fingers and glanced down. “Erm, I’m sure they’ve been very careful about keeping it under wraps.”
Molly slumped back in her seat. Her face was like stone.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Karina protested. “They’re good people. And good spies. In fact, I did a mission with your dad once. He was such a badass before he retired!”
Molly shook her head in disbelief, her eyes wide. “My ancestors. This is all a bit… I’m sorry…” She shifted to get up.
“Hey,” Karina said, grabbing her wrist. “Don’t just walk away because this is a lot to take in. It’s okay. No one thinks any less of you because you didn’t know. I’m telling you what I can now. Of course, you’re going to have feelings.”
Molly was already up and out of her seat. “Yeah, but I don’t wanna spew those feelings all over everyone.” She disappeared down the aisle.
Joel had also been listening carefully from the seat behind them. He undid his belt and popped up over Molly’s now vacant chair. “Hey, give it time,” he told Karina. “She’ll come around. She always does. She just needs to wrap her head around a bunch of stuff.”
Karina smiled. “I hope so. I actually kinda like her!”
Joel chuckled. “Well, I’ll be…” He sat back down. Sean snorted in amusement.
* * *
Molly returned to her seat sometime later, having stopped off and talked to a few members of her hungover crew. Anything that meant she could avoid more talky-talky with the new Mrs. Karina Royale.
Eventually, she plucked up the courage to return, this time carrying mochas from the machine. She handed one to Karina. “Peace offering. I’m sorry about last night. You’re… not all bad.” She winked.
Karina grinned, accepting the mocha. “You’re not all bad yourself,” she agreed.
Molly slipped back into her seat, carefully maneuvering past Karina again.
Karina whispered to her. “If you can find my bag, I’ve got a bottle of something we can put into this mocha. Spice it up!”
Molly sniggered. “As much as I’d love to, I need to stay sober now.”
Karina nodded, pretending to pout.
Oblivious to Joel’s raised eyebrow when he saw her return, Molly leaned in to speak to Karina quietly so the boys couldn’t hear. “Okay, so I’ve got to know one more thing,” she said.
Karina smiled peacefully at her. “Anything.”
Molly pursed her lips before speaking, as if trying to find the best way to phrase her question. “What is it about Sean? Why did you go through with it?”
“Marrying him?”
“Yeah.”
“Well… I dunno.” Karina shrugged slowly. “I guess the old feelings that I had for him kinda got reignited. But it was more than that. Things have changed since the old days. I’ve been wandering around, mission-centric, on my own for a long time now. And it gets lonely. I mean, it’s great and all, but I guess not having any family or roots kinda makes it hard.”
“So, Sean is your roots?” she asked, glancing back to make sure they couldn’t be heard.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Hmm.”
“You have anyone like that?” Karina asked quietly.
Joel shifted in his seat, trying to get closer to hear better.
“I’m not sure,” Molly mumbled.
The girls fell silent again and sipped their un-dosed mochas quietly.
Molly’s holo beeped. She swiped at it and opened the message. She snorted quietly.
“What is it?” Karina asked, automatically trying to see the screen.
Molly turned the screen on her wrist to show her. “Giles. He’s a guy we work with. Sent me a selfie.”
Karina sniggered. “Oh my, is that—”
“A Mech?” Molly responded. “Yeah, I think so. I’m guessing this is a victory selfie.”
“Oh, wow. What’s he been working on?”
Molly sighed, closing the holo and resting her head against the headrest. “I’m not entirely sure. He’s a space archaeologist, so he goes off every now and again tomb raiding and shit.”
Karina stopped. “Are you and he…”
“Oh no. Ancestors, no.” Molly paused. “I mean…” She hesitated. “No. We’re not.”
She felt movement behind her and glanced around. Joel leaned forward. “You’ve heard from Giles? Everything okay?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Seems he’s wrapping things up out there. He’ll send us a full report soon.”
Joel nodded and sat back again.
Karina narrowed her eyes at Molly and sipped her mocha.
“What?” Molly protested, clearly flustered.
“Nothing. It’s just… he’s a guy. And he’s sending you selfies.” She shrugged. “There’s something more than just a mission check in.”
Molly scratched at her head in distraction. “Yeah. Maybe. But I don’t know. And honestly, I don’t know what to tell you. I’m sure it will all come out in the wash.”
Karina put one hand up. “Okay, backing off!” she declared with a knowing smile.
Molly shook her head. “Fuck my life…” she huffed gently.
Base conference room, Gaitune-67, Sark System, Loop Galaxy
Lance chewed on his cigar, then got right down to business. “I reviewed your report, Sean.”
Sean stood at ease in the conference room. Lance looked down the camera lens at him, conveying that he was taking the new intel seriously. “And you see how this might be a security issue?”
“Yes, and no,” Lance admitted. “I see it could be a potential edge the team can use against a potential enemy, especially given what’s brewing down there in Sark.”
Sean nodded. He’d been read in on some of Carol Bates’s findings during his debrief. “But she could also be convincing people against their will, here in the team. Or you even. The repercussions would be huge. Everything we’ve ever known comes under threat. Our way of life. Our assumptions. This is the biggest security threat we’ve ever encountered. And I’m not just being dramatic, sir.”
“Yes, yes, ADAM and I have discussed it at length. Tell me,” he said, his tone more curious than exacting, “does she know she’s doing it?”
Sean pursed his lips before responding. “I think so. I’ve brought it up to her.”
Lance took a deep breath and leaned back. “Well then, if we rely on her loyalty, we’ve nothing to worry about. If she can knowingly control it—”
“Well, that’s debatable,” Sean interrupted. “When I say she knows about it, she knows it’s happened a few times. Whether she fully accepts that is dubious. And then on top of that, it’s too soon to tell if she can actually control it.”
Lance was quiet for a moment. Then he sat up. “Well then, we’ll make sure that Arlene is working on it with her. I’d like you to make sure you tell Arlene everything you know. And then trust her decision.”
“But, sir,” Sean protested. “What if she disagrees with your orders?”
Lance bobbed his head, flicking through his holo report. “From what I can see, it’s a local effect only. When you were out of the room, you returned to your senses, and were aware of your change in attitude.”
“Yes, sir, but—”
“Well, then. It doesn’t seem like she’ll be able to affect those of us who aren’t physically near her. Don’t worry. She’s going to be so busy for the foreseeable future, I don’t envisage her coming up here for any jollies.”
Sean tried to maintain an air of calm over his frustration. “And what about video calls?”
“I doubt it’ll be an issue. From what you’ve described, ADAM suggests it’s a very local effect. But as I say, we’ll be in touch with Arlene just to be sure. And then take it from there.”
“But, sir,” Sean protested yet again.
“Anything else, Mr. Royale?”
“No, sir.”
“Well, then, I’ll let you get back to your honeymoon. Congratulations once again.”
Sean took a breath. “Thank you, sir.”
The holoscreen closed off and flickered its illusion back into the projector at the center of the table. Sean stood for a moment, thinking. He was going to need a way to keep tabs on the situation so that he would always know if his will was being pushed.
That meant talking with Oz and potentially having Brock build a device. Immediately, he felt dirty, contemplating going behind Molly’s back. Especially after everything she had done. However, the fate of the Federation rested on this. And they needed to find out how far her influence could reach.
Sooner, rather than later.
He scratched the side of his face, feeling the day-old stubble growth. Okay, he thought to himself. First, I’ll exercise. Shave. And then decide exactly what I’m going to do.
Chapter 17
Molly’s conference room, Safehouse, Gaitune-67
“Well done, both of you,” Molly said, sitting back in her chair after several hours of debriefing. “This is great work.”
Paige looked dismayed. “I’m sorry we haven’t been able to solve these things before you got back. It’s just a little too much for us to have figured out.”
Molly shook her head. “Hey, no. You’ve done a great job. You’ve made a start… and the rest of it, we’ll figure out together.” She pulled her lips to one side, thinking. “So, where are we with the university issue? As of this morning?”
Paige flicked to her holo notes. “Well, we’ve managed to call in some favors and get ahold of the criteria for their investigation, and the faculty have started implementing anything that they might fail us on. I need to set up a progress meeting before I can assess how soon we can have everything done by.”
Molly flicked back through her own notes. “And we have a date for when the investigation will start?”
Paige shook her head, and stray strands from her ponytail got in her face. She swiped them out of the way. “Not yet. Still waiting to hear. But as soon as we do, I’ll publish it.”
Molly nodded. “To the core team first. No sense putting extra pressure on the faculty until we have a way of navigating the terrain we find ourselves in.”
Paige made a note.
“And what about the sale of your company?” Molly asked.
Paige paused. Then closed her holo. She took a deep breath. “I’ve not responded. But I’ve decided I don’t want to sell.”
Molly bobbed her head. “I think that’s wise. Especially knowing what we know now. It could end up being an asset that we can use to fight back against this threat.”
Paige nodded, her gaze hitting the table. She looked drained.
Molly continued. “So, our next move will be to find out anything we can about this Northern clan.”
Paige quickly flicked to another set of notes. “We did what we could, but it turned out that we need Oz.”
Oz’s voice chirped up over the intercom. “Nice to be needed!”
The women laughed. “We always need you, Oz!” Maya responded enthusiastically.
“Yeah,” Paige admitted. “We thought about asking Bourne but then decided against it.”
Molly sighed, adding another item to her notes. “Yeah, that’s another thing we’re going to need to handle at some point. Folks, if we have any ideas, let’s tackle that in a separate meeting. In the meantime, Oz, can you make sure he has limited access to the base, our conversations, and anything classification four and above?”
Paige looked knowingly at Molly. She had already filled her in, offline in their private quarters, about their interaction with Bourne while the rest of the team was gone.
“Yes,” Oz confirmed. “It will take me a day or so to implement that. Seems he’s been poking around while we were away.”
Maya giggled. “I guess he just needs a playpen built!”
Molly smiled. “Sounds like. Oz, let us know when it’s done so we can work more freely?”
“Of course,” he responded.
Maya leaned forward, putting her notes aside. “You know, I’ve just had an idea,” she said, looking to Molly for permission to continue.
Molly nodded at her with her eyebrows. Maya continued. “What about using Paige’s media capabilities to shine light on the investigation? Like an editorial piece. We can brand it up so it’s not a cosmetic sale but rather an interest brand. Maybe get them to back off because of the attention? And simultaneously call awareness to what’s happening.”
Molly was silent for a few moments.
Paige’s eyes lit up. “You know, I think that’s kind of brilliant.” She hesitated, looking to Molly. “What does Oz think about the possibilities of it working?”
“Says he’ll need to run some scenarios, but it’s certainly worth exploring. Okay, Maya.” She turned to the ex-journalist. “How do you feel about heading up that piece of the operation?”
Maya grinned. “I’d be delighted to!”
“Good.” Molly smiled. “Okay. Run it past Gareth. See if there’s anything else we need to be aware of going down that route.” She paused. “I think we’ve covered everything we can for now. Paige, I’ll wait to hear from you when you manage to lock those parameters down on the university investigation. Maya, feel free to shoot me your plan when you’ve had a chance to think about it. I’m needed downstairs in a few. Any other questions?” She looked at them both as she folded away her notes.
The two girls shook their heads, almost smiling. Molly noticed they both looked like a six-ton weight had been lifted from their shoulders. She smiled at them.
“All right then. Catch you later.” She got up and headed out of the door.
Base conference room, Gaitune-67
Molly sat with her head in her hands. She’d been back on Gaitune for eighteen hours and had spent the last twelve in debriefings.
And now, she had her mother, larger than life-size, on the conference room screen as the head of Clandestine Services. Carol Bates was at least an hour into telling Molly and her team leaders about her findings regarding the threats they were going to face.
Carol stopped talking, causing Molly to look up.
“Am I boring you, Molly?” she asked in her usual scolding tone.
Molly shook her head and sat up. “Long day, Mom,” she replied without an apology.
She shuffled through her notes. “Okay,” she continued, glad of the opportunity to redirect their attention and end the monotonous repetition of the summary that Oz had already given her. “The way I see it is that we’ve got this movement happening, and we have specific threats appearing on the surface.”
She glanced across the table at Sean, Jack, and Joel, who had been silent the entire time. Molly would normally expect their interaction, but for some reason, they each remained stoic. She couldn’t quite read their expressions, either.
“We’ve already got Oz working on the source of the threats,” Molly shared. “We should know more in a few days. But as for the specific threats, I think the most dangerous one is the twelve appointments.” She paused and looked up at the screen. “Do we have any way to remove them? Or reverse them?”
Carol pursed her lips. “Not legally.”
Joel noticed Molly contemplating the illegal options. He readied himself to jump in.
“No,” Molly said suddenly. “If we go down that route, we undermine the very thing we’re trying to reestablish. A system of legality and morality. It would just end up giving them more propaganda ammunition to use against anyone who tries to stop them.”
She looked across at Joel, who visibly relaxed.
“Mom, can you look into how these appointments are happening? Who is being greased? And what can we use to put a stop to it?”
“Yes, sure,” Carol agreed, making a note.
“Joel, Sean,” Molly continued, “can you do a threat assessment on the Estarian military? We need to know where they are vulnerable to these kinds of placements. Where are they particularly racist? Nationalistic? Where has this Northern Clan already got power? I don’t believe that it’s just these high-level placements. We need to know what we’re up against. The last thing we want is martial law being declared. That would be a surefire way for this minority to seize power.”
She paused, thinking. “Okay, so Paige and Maya are working on things for the university attack. Our tech team is dealing with a search for whomever it was who’s been probing us.”
Carol raised her hand. Molly nodded to her to interject. “I’m sorry, what was that about someone probing you?”
Sean smirked. Molly noticed but ignored it.
Good to know some things don’t change.
Molly remained on point and answered Carol’s question. “It’s been going on for a while now. It’s obvious that they know something about us, what with the company offer and the university move. We also think they’ve been trying to hack us.”
Carol shifted awkwardly. “Well, erm, I need to tell you something.”
Molly eyed her suspiciously. “Why? What is it, Mom?”
“Well, erm, I did have a team probing what I think were some of your access channels and hubs.”
Molly started to react. She opened her mouth, fury welling and about to pour out. And suddenly, she just paused as if she were a character in a video game.
Joel, Sean, and Jack watched, holding their breath.
And then Molly closed her mouth, regained her composure, and then continued the conversation surprisingly quietly. “Thank you for sharing that, Mom. It’s very helpful. It’s going to save us hundreds of man hours trying to find and eliminate the threat.”
Carol lowered her eyes sheepishly. “I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
Molly held her hand up, knowing that her mother wasn’t going to give her any apology worth having and that by the time she finished talking, she would have turned it all around on Molly and made it her fault in the first place.
Molly wrapped up the meeting as swiftly as she could and then made a beeline for the door.
The holo connection closed off, and the three warriors remained in the conference room, stunned.
“So…” Sean grunted. “Molly’s mom is a bitch.”
Joel frowned at him. “I thought you guys already knew each other? Because of Karina?”
Sean shook his head. “No, the Federation handled her placement. I mean, I knew of her, from Sarkian briefings we’ve been fed. And of course, when we met her at the apartment.”
“Did you know who she was then?” Joel asked.
“Yeah. Course.”
“And you didn’t think to mention it?”
“Well, duh. Classified.”
Joel put his head in one hand. Then he looked up and cocked his head. “You get briefings about the Sark goings on? From the Federation?”
“Yeah, don’t you?” Sean smirked.
Jack pushed her chair back and got up. “Come on, boys. Don’t start.”
Sean changed the subject. “Anyway, did you see the way Molly was about to let rip? I thought for sure that was the end of our unholy alliance with that witch.”
“So, you don’t like her much?” Jack interjected teasingly.
“After what she did to Karina?”
Joel raised his chin. “Ahh, right.”
Jack chirped up. “So, we think that was Oz intervening?”
Joel nodded. “Almost certainly.”
Jack sniggered. “Wish I knew that trick. Might come in handy some time.”
Sean got up and tucked his chair under the table again, ready to leave. “Creepy watching Carol, though,” he commented.
“Yeah,” Joel agreed, still sitting, his eyes fixed absently on a point on the table. “It’s like there was our Molly and then an older, more severe Molly. Like what Molly might be like if she were bitter and twisted.”
Jack snorted again. “You don’t like her much, either?”
“After all that shit she’s pulled on Molly?” Joel exclaimed.
Jack started walking out the door. “Fair point. Just an observation, though.”
Sean started heading out, too. “Yeah. Makes you thankful, I guess. That we got our version of Molly, and not the crazy version.”
Joel nodded. “This is also true,” he agreed. “Sparring in a half hour?”
“Sure,” Sean agreed, checking his holo.
“Jack?” Joel offered.
She shook her head. “I’m going to go chill. I need some downtime.”
Joel hauled himself up onto his feet to follow the others out. “Yeah, probably just as well,” he agreed. “Don’t think Sean would be able to take more than one ass-kicking.”
“Ha ha, Joel-ina!” Sean scoffed sarcastically. “Ha ha!”
Laughing, the team disappeared down the corridor and out to the hangar deck.
Molly’s quarters, Safehouse, Gaitune-67
There was a knock at Molly’s door.
“Come in!” she called. Joel entered, carrying ice cream smoothies.
Molly looked alarmed. “What is it?” she asked.
“Nothing, everything’s fine,” he protested.
She narrowed her eyes, clambering off the bed to take one from him. “You never bring me sugar unless it’s bad news.”
He chuckled and they both clambered onto the bed. Even Neechie appeared out of nowhere from the other side of the room and jumped up with them. Molly smiled, slurping on her liquefied diabetes. “Hey, Neech. How you doing?”
“Meow,” he responded.
“Ah, you’re missing Anne,” she interpreted for Joel’s benefit.
Joel stopped slurping. “You’re kidding me? You understand him now?”
Molly nodded, tipping her head from side to side. “Mostly. Sometimes he tries to tell me things I just don’t understand. Arlene reckons it’s because my brain isn’t wired the same way to be able to understand the world like he does. I think the dimensions thing is part of it.”
Joel watched her quietly.
“Arlene said I’d eventually pick it up… if I keep at it.”
Joel bobbed his head. “Really?” he mused.
“Yeah.” She stopped. “You think it’s all rubbish?”
“No, no,” he protested. “I know when that creature is hungry. He makes it perfectly clear. The fact that he might be trying to communicate quantum loop gravity to you is just a small step on from there.”
Molly sniggered. “Since when do you know about quantum loop gravity?”
Joel grinned. “I saw a holoscreen you left out once. Read it while I ate breakfast. Hardly understood any of it, though.”
Molly grinned and slurped again, one hand still on Neechie. “So seriously, what’s the occasion?”
Joel shrugged and shifted his legs on the bed so he was more comfortable. “I just figured with your mom making an appearance in all areas of your life now, you might wanna talk about it.”
Her gaze dropped down to her smoothie for several moments. “Yeah,” she said eventually. “You’re right. Along with the Sean thing, I just… I guess I feel like my world has been turned upside down.”
Joel bobbed his head, listening.
“It’s just a lot to process. I mean, all this time, I thought they were civilians. And now, I just can’t get my head around it. And the guilt.”
“From them being kidnapped?”
“Yeah,” she confirmed. “I mean, they’ve always said it wasn’t my fault, but I never felt that way. And now… Now, I’m seeing that it wasn’t really. I mean, not a hundred percent. I shouldn’t have been playing with that EI, but if they hadn’t had so many enemies and if I’d known why we had to keep it offline, none of that would have happened.”
Joel smiled. “I’m relieved you see that now.”
“Yeah. I’m also realizing just how fucking crazy Mom is, too!”
Joel laughed. “Yeah, I can’t imagine what it must have been like growing up with that.”
Molly shrugged. “It’s hard to say. At that age, you don’t have any other points of reference. And then it just occurs to you that something’s off. And even when you go out into the real world, everything is uber confusing. And different. And you try and make sense of it. And because you only know the environment you’ve grown up in, you tend to gravitate to more of those situations. No matter how fucked up they are.”
“Or isolation,” Joel interjected.
Molly’s eyebrows jumped up in agreement. “Hell, yeah. Isolation too. Way safer than bumping up against more crazy fuckers who just make you hurt all the time.”
Joel watched Neechie, letting Molly process the feelings that were clearly coming up.
She batted a tear away. “Anyway,” she continued. “It’s kind of cathartic, knowing the truth. But this thing of having her work with us…”
Joel looked up.
Molly looked sad. “The reality is, I don’t know if I can ever trust her.”
He nodded, lips pursed.
“I’m guessing you feel the same way about her, then?” she ventured.
He was still nodding. “Honestly, yes. But we need to allow for the possibility that she’s changed. And that she is essential to us stopping this threat.”
“And we have our orders,” she added glumly.
Joel smiled. “Hence the ice cream smoothie.”
She smiled weakly. “Good call. And thank you!” She raised the drink to him and he reciprocated.
The two sat in comfortable silence for a few more minutes.
Eventually, Joel spoke. “So, you got a plan?”
She sighed. “Yeah, I’m still working on it,” she said, waving at her wrist holo. “I’m thinking that it’s the natural evolution of the university to prepare people for working in the field. As actual leaders. We’re educating these folks on how to do things better. Then we need to do our version of getting them out there and into positions of power. Legitimately. So that we don’t compromise the integrity of the system.”
Joel snorted. “The system is corrupt.”
She winced. “Yeah, but that’s not a reason to not use it. We need to find a way of making change legitimately. From within.”
“And how are we going to do that and deal with all these threats coming at us?”
Molly shook her head. “It’s going to be tough. Tougher than we’ve experienced so far. But we need to start putting our graduates out into the world in positions of influence.”
Joel sniggered. “Just without killing people.”
Molly glared at him. “Yes, without killing people,” she said firmly. “But…”
Joel looked suddenly curious. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”
Molly sighed, clearly trying to hide her excitement now. “Okay, if I tell you something, you have to swear you won’t tell anyone. Ever. At all.”
Joel chuckled. “Of course…”
She shook her head, glaring at him intensely. “I’m serious, knucklehead!”
“Okay, okay!”
“All right,” she said, composing herself to explain. “So, we’re looking at the possibility of Mom and Dad starting up their own version of spy school. For some of our graduates to go on to after we’ve taught them to be decent human beings.”
Joel couldn’t contain his laughter. Or the sip of smoothie he had in his mouth. He sprayed it all over the bed covers before he could clamp his hand over his mouth.
All that could be heard down the corridor was Joel laughing hysterically and Molly shouting at him in protest.
Even Neechie had flown off the bed and then shifted out of there in a flash. He appeared in the common area as if to avoid the drama, while the sounds carried through even the double doors. He flicked his tail in indignation and wandered off in the direction of the kitchen.
FINIS
Subversion
The Ascension Myth Book 10
Chapter 1
Base conference room, Gaitune-67
The base was relatively quiet. It had been several weeks since the drama of their last mission and the team had been focused on training and getting themselves back into a routine, ready for the next mission they might be tasked with.
“I trust things are settling down there, since…you know.”
General Lance Reynolds peered casually down the etheric-enhanced holo feed, into the base conference room.
Molly smirked, taking advantage of the privacy of their conversation. “What you really mean to ask is how are the Royales settling into married life?”
He grinned, shoving his cigar back into his mouth. “Busted,” he conceded.
Molly pushed back into her chair at the conference table. The General used to make her socially anxious, probably on account of him being the ‘boss of the universe’ as she’d once noted to Oz. Somehow that had gotten back to him, and though he never reprimanded her for it, he had made her squirm when he mentioned it at the end of a meeting once. Since then, it had been as if the worst had already happened and their relationship had improved.
“He’s doing fine,” she told him. “I guess. I’m not quite sure how people are meant to adjust to marriage,” she confessed.
Lance chuckled gruffly. “Well, it’s been a while for me too, but I guess in the early days there might be power plays, arguments, tantrums. You know, the normal couple stuff.”
Molly raised her eyebrows. “Yes!” she drawled, clicking her fingers in mock recognition. “Because I know exactly what you mean.”
Lance laughed again. “Oh, boy. We reached sarcasm quickly that time, didn’t we?”
“Well, if you insist on interrogating me about the social lives of my crew…”
“Quite.”
“So,” she continued. “I’m guessing that wasn’t the only reason we were meeting?”
“No. You’re correct.” Lance flicked across some screens to view a file, his face taking on a more serious expression. “We have a situation.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. And it’s a little delicate.”
Molly snorted indelicately. “When are they not?”
“This is true.” He shrugged, humoring her. “But it’s going to require a certain amount of discretion.”
She leaned forward, intrigued. “Why?”
“Well, let’s say we have intel we weren’t supposed to have, about certain parties in the Federation. Then let’s say that the other parties suspect we have that intel and let it ride. And then one day something happened that causes them to ask us to use that intel—that we’re not supposed to have—and encouraged us to… share that knowledge with them.”
Molly frowned. “Someone’s trying to entrap you?”
Lance shook his head. “No. No, I don’t think so. The Leath government have more or less admitted to the situation. They just want our help sorting out one of their problems to save any further embarrassment. We’d potentially be saving them frictions with the other member states, which would be good for everyone.”
Molly narrowed her eyes. “What have the Leath done now?”
Lance coughed. “You’re not going to like it.”
Her eyebrows flicked upwards again.
“But, the consolation is that you get to put an end to it, in a small way.”
Molly braced herself.
He doesn’t normally dance around mission details like this.
Sounds like it must be big.
Do you already know about it, Oz?
Nope. Nada.
“Okay,” she pressed. “Out with it. What exactly are we dealing with?”
Lance sighed. “Well, it appears that a rogue faction of the Leath have been dealing in arms.”
“Why is that such a surprise?”
“The arms they’re dealing have come indirectly from the Leath government.”
Molly opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. She closed her mouth and looked into the corner of the room, processing.
Lance shifted nervously in his chair.
“For what it’s worth,” he said, “it really does look like a rogue group, and the Leath have had problems with corruption in their government, just like any other. Believe me when I say I’m not happy about this but taking into account the greater good, it’s far better that their government stays intact. They’re not perfect, but there is a willingness to do better. The last thing we want to do is undermine their credibility with the Federation and their own citizens. Plus, we want them on our side.”
“So what you’re saying,” she eventually concluded, “is that we get to take some of the bad guys down, but we’re not to touch the governing body who started this whole exchange?”
Lance picked up his half-chewed cigar with a grimace. “Essentially.”
Molly frowned. “You are going to deal with the government end? You know—the part where they’re selling arms to terrorists?”
Lance held up a hand to appease her. “I’m already handling it. One way or another, it will be dealt with.”
Molly eyed him skeptically.
“Oh, don’t you worry,” he finished, a stony expression settling over his handsome features, “it will become relevant at some point or another. If not politically, then in some other way. They’ll learn.”
“Well, ok then. What’s the situation on the ground?”
“Not on the ground on this one I’m afraid. It’s going to require a ship interception. We have the coordinates of when the exchange is going down. It’s the only window of opportunity when we know where the weapons are going to be. We know that the Leath are buying back some arms from a Skaine group, probably to sell them at a higher rate somewhere else. It’s standard practice with these groups for them to move merchandise around… sometimes in payment for other things.”
Molly mulled the variables. “And you want us to grab them before the Leath get them so that the weapons don’t end up back with the Leath authorities and flag that some of their weapons have been sold by their own government through back channels.”
“Exactly.”
She tapped her nails against the table as she put the pieces in order. “So we need to intervene before they change hands. Which means going after the Skaine ship…”
“No one said it was going to be easy.”
“No. But talk about walking a tightrope. And we’re going to be doing this while the Leath are watching no doubt. That’s assuming that the Skaines are the first to show up.”
Lance studied her holographic image for a moment. “I’ve no doubt that your team can figure out how to make it work, Molly. No matter which way it turns out.”
Molly sighed, racking her brains to come up with a solution. “I hope so, coz I’m coming up blank right now.”
He sat up straighter, rocking in his console chair. “You’ll come up with something, you always do. Well, ADAM is transmitting mission details over to Oz as we speak,” he said, brightening. “Keep me posted.”
Molly nodded, already partially absent as she turned the challenge Lance had given her over and over in her mind. “Yes, sir.”
The image froze for a second before going blank as the holoconnection closed.
So… helping a dirty government keep its sordid little secret?
Molly heard the distaste Oz felt for the mission loud and clear. Well, I’m not entirely jazzed about it either. But we have a job to do, and it sounds like Lance has a plan for dealing with the rest of it… at some point. I trust him.
True. Ok. We’ve got the mission packet. Want me to assemble the gang?
Yeah. Sure. May as well get to it.
Lecture Theatre Three, Skóli Uppstigs Academy, Spire, Estaria
Professor Von stood in front of her second-year students. Her lesson was designed to delve into the subject without overloading the students with information. Her approach had always been to give context and motivation to the information so that it was easier to recall later.
She had experimented with telling them what was going to be examined on the end of term paper but had found over the years that this encouraged rote learning rather than the level of comprehension that these students would need for what they were being prepared for. Proper absorption and comprehension of the material took time.
In the end, she resorted to the way that took far more preparation but ultimately led to much better results. She’d spent the first ninety percent of the session establishing these details and motivations. Now she flicked the next presentation screen up, using her holo as a controller.
“Here’s another study which shows the correlations we’ve been talking about. Bookmark this in your notes, read the analysis sections, and see if you agree with the conclusions. Make notes on where you don’t agree, we will discuss this in our next session.” She waited while they captured what they needed.
“Here’s another.”
She flicked another study with title, link and graphs onto the presentation screen.
“And another.”
The students busied themselves tapping on their holo devices and capturing the links and references, so they could reference them later.
Von paced between the rows of occupied chairs. “Pay attention to the details, because your end of term project is to fantasize about how you can combine these components to make a society that functions, without resorting to existing or historic models that have failed. You will be modelling them using computer simulations and real-life starting population data.”
One of the students raised his hand.
“Jeremy. Yes?”
Jeremy took a moment to formulate his question, the weight of the teacher’s attention on him now. “Um… My programming isn’t any good, but I think I can come up with some pretty neat ideas.”
Von smiled. “It’s as if I placed you to ask that question. The other part of this assignment is that you need to do it in groups of two. One person can take the programming and the other can take the abstract idea research and modelling aspects. Note that 25% of your grade will be based on how well you collaborate.”
There was a muttering throughout the classroom.
Von decided there was another teaching point in there. “Anyone want to tell me why we’re putting such an emphasis on collaboration?” A few hands went up. Von pointed to a brunette in the second row. “Yes, Laurel?”
The student spoke up. “Because we’re preparing to exist in a society where skills can be outsourced, and collaboration is the most valuable asset when applying to a workplace.”
Von bobbed her head. “Very good, Laurel. Nice to see that someone is remembering some of our first-year material.”
The bell rang.
“Ok folks, start thinking about your projects now. You’ll have a full briefing on it in a few weeks when the clock starts. In the meantime, please make sure you’ve read chapter four before next class. We’ll be starting on the key components of effective governance next time.”
The students pushed their chairs back and began packing up. Von disappeared behind the front bench, out of the way of the mass exodus. End of day bells were normally met with a stampede, even though these students were some of the most enthusiastic she had ever had the pleasure of teaching.
Paige sat at the back, catching up on her messages while her classmates cleared the building. She’d learned to make use of the extra minutes here and there to keep up with things.
And since trying to manage their strategy against those that wanted to see the university closed, she was having to use every spare minute she could find.
After the rush had died down, she gathered up her things and headed out to her pod to get back up to her office on Gaitune where she would continue working, waving goodbye to Professor Von as she left.
Arlene’s lab, Skóli Uppstigs Academy
Bill stood over the holoscreens, hands in his lab coat pockets. The images displayed the correlations in the data he’d been working on since he joined the project.
“So you think this is significant?” he asked, watching Arlene’s expression carefully.
Arlene flicked from one data set to another. “I’d say so. I think it’s another piece to the puzzle.” She stood back, stroking her chin. “I’m not entirely sure what it means yet, but it almost certainly means something.”
“Maybe it’s another way of narrowing down the locations of the other sites?”
“You may be right,” Arlene confessed.
“Ha! Is this Professor Bailey telling me that I may have impressed her?”
She smiled, despite her efforts not to.
“This calls for a celebration!” Bill persisted. “How about dinner tonight?”
Arlene stopped.
Bill sensed the tension. “I mean, like as a thank you and everything as well…”
“I…” she hesitated.
She’d never really liked Bill. But there was no denying that him choosing to come to Estaria with them after him helping them out on the last mission was in no small part due to him liking her.
Despite her trying to let him down firmly but gently, it was almost as if it had only encouraged him further. And now it looked like dodging the question for longer wasn’t going to work anymore.
There was a sharp knock at the lab door, pulling both of their attention.
“Come in!” Arlene called, hiding the relief in her voice as best she could.
The door opened, and almost eclipsing any light from the corridor was a rather large Zyhn dressed in an ill-fitting atmosuit.
“Giles told me I would probably find you up here, ol’ girl.” His voice was deep and commanding, yet friendly and far too familiar for Bill to be happy about this newcomer.
Bill pushed aside his lab stool, scrapping it loudly. “And who are you?” he demanded hotly.
Arlene stood with her mouth agape, unable to form the air into words.
“I’m here for Arlene,” the Zyhn replied. He sidestepped Bill and held his arms out to Arlene. “It’s been far too long!” he declared, embracing her.
Bill watched as Arlene let the stranger hug her. He realized that not only did these two know each other, but they were also close. He felt his face flush with embarrassment, and his chest heave with sadness as the possibility dawned on him that Arlene might be involved with someone else.
When the Zhyn finally released her Arlene seemed to wipe her face, before turning back to Bill.
“Bill, this is Ben’or. Ben’or, this is Bill… a colleague of mine.”
Bill wished the ground would open and swallow him. All these weeks pining over Arlene, trying to find the right way to ask her out, and now…
Ben’or looked at him expectantly. Bill had to say something before the awkwardness became too much to bear.
“Nice to meet you Ben’or,” he managed eventually. He hesitated again, trying to figure out what to say that would get him out of there. “I should probably let you two catch up.”
He closed his holoscreens and headed out of the lab, the same way Ben’or had come in.
Arlene watched his retreat with a perplexed look.
Ben’or drew her attention back to him. “So, what have you been up to since we last spoke?”
She smiled. “That is a long story… one that I’d love to tell you. But I’ve got a meeting that I need to get to. But perhaps we could have dinner later?”
“I’d like that.”
“Where are you staying?”
“I’ve got a hotel Giles recommended to me.”
Arlene tilted her head. “He knew you were coming, then?”
“He did. It was his idea to keep it a surprise.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Oh it was, was it?”
“Yes.” He studied her face carefully. “Why? You don’t like surprises?”
“No, no… I’m thrilled you’re here. Just a little taken aback, is all. What about the council?”
“I had some leave, so I figured I’d combine it with a diplomatic visit.”
She nodded in understanding. “Ah, so you’re here on business?”
“A little. Just smoothing the wheels of interplanetary relations. And what good is it having friends and allies if we don’t nurture that relationship?”
“You make a good case. No wonder your emperor couldn’t say no to you.”
“Well, from what I recall you’re not bad at negotiations yourself,” he chuckled. “Let me know when you’re free and we’ll make a plan to meet up.” He hugged her again before he disappeared back out of the lab door.
Arlene watched him leave, astounded that he would suddenly show up out of the blue.
Paige’s office, Safehouse, Gaitune-67
A knock on her door broke her from her concentration. Paige looked up to see Maya grinning at her. She blinked rapidly to bring her friend into focus. “Hey.”
“Whatcha up to?” Maya asked. “It’s gone midnight. Time to stop working and come have some fun.”
Paige checked her holoscreen clock. “I guess I lost track of time.”
Maya edged into the office, moving more slowly now. “What are you working on then?”
“Oh, just an idea I had in class earlier.”
Maya slumped in the guest chair. “Can’t believe you still find time to do class part-time and running the company. And doing a job here.”
Paige shrugged, giving Maya a wry grin. “I have good people around me. They let me have it all.”
Maya returned her grin. “So what’s the idea?” she asked, perching down on the guest chair in front of the desk.
Paige leaned back, pushing her hair back off her face while stretching out her back. “Well, we were talking about educating the public at large about the benefits of narrowing the gap in financial wealth.”
“Ha! Good luck with that!” Maya scoffed.
“Yeah, right?” Paige agreed, her face brightening somewhat as she talked. “But it got me thinking. What if we could put it in the form of entertainments, through the social channels we normally push the fashion stuff through. Make it engaging?”
Maya pursed her lips. “I think there’s a danger of it becoming propaganda though. You’ll lose a lot of people. Most folks like their entertainment devoid of any kind of agenda.”
“Yeah, but what if it wasn’t with a specific agenda. Propaganda is where you only give one argument. One side of the argument. What if we did all sides? So it’s real education. Real information.”
Maya thought for a moment. “You mean developing an informed populace?”
Paige chuckled. “Yeah. I know. Unrealistic. But even if we could help just one percent of folks who want to know what’s going on, wouldn’t it be worth it?”
Paige could see Maya’s brain churning. “Yeah. But what’s it going to take?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out now,” Paige told her. “We’d need to run the content as campaigns, and it would need to be well thought through.”
“And then the content would need to be designed to be informative and cover all angles.” Maya was getting into it now.
“Yeah. I’ve been drawing up some outlines and examples, and a list of folks on the ground who I could give this to run.”
The conversation lulled for a moment. Paige thought about getting some air, then realized she should probably think about getting some sleep instead.
“So what about their normal work?” Maya asked. “You know, advertising the nail colors, et cetera?”
“Well, I’ve got a theory that if we increase the value of the content we’re pushing out, we may even increase our engagement and conversion rates.”
Maya arched an eyebrow at that. “Bold theory.”
“Yeah.” Paige wiped her face with her hands. “But we’ve got to do something. Things are getting rough out there. The other outlets are being bought up by the Northern Clan and pushing their agenda. There’s a polarization in the messaging happening. I swear, if I were down on Estaria exposed to the crap they’re pushing out through every channel, I’d be questioning which way was up.”
Maya pulled her hair tie out and worked on recapturing it into a ponytail. “Yeah, it’s pretty intense out there,” she agreed grimly. “We’ve been picking up chatter on the circuit about other political manoeuvres happening behind the scenes too.” She paused. “Molly is convinced that something is coming.”
Paige studied her friend, her own facial expression grim now. “Yeah. I mean, why else would she agree to work with her mother?”
Maya snorted playfully. “She’s a martyr for the cause! But you know, that Director Bates is something. Pieter pulled an audio of one of her ‘pep talks’ to her new analysts. It was not pretty.”
“Oh my ancestors. I’d pay money to hear that!” Paige couldn’t help but smile at what she might have said.
“No need. I’m sure he’ll share it with us after a few beers. Speaking of, I think that would be an excellent plan before hitting the sack.”
Maya pulled up her holo. “All right. Lemme see if we can peel him away from his MMO-RPG holo games.” She started tapping a message, muttering as she typed. “I dunno what it is about those things, but it seems that Bourne and Oz have been more than a little involved in it. I can only suspect that somehow Pieter has pitted them against each other for his own amusement. I’ll get him to meet us in the common area. You can do the talking once I mention it, ok?”
“You’re on!” Paige brightened, getting up from her desk. The pair headed out into the corridor leaving the thoughts of the imploding domestic situation on Estaria for another day.
Chapter 2
Gardner News Studios, Spire
Brad Gardner couldn’t get a word in. “But Chancellor, isn’t it true— Isn’t it true—”
The chancellor continued to talk over the show host, loudly. Obnoxiously.
But Brad was tenacious. “Chancellor if you’d allow me to just…”
The overweight Estarian chancellor finally stopped obfuscating long enough for his chins to cease wobbling, permitting Brad to ask his question.
“Isn’t it true that the decision to continue trade with Ogg is a political and economic discussion meant for the decision makers in the Senate, not military personnel?”
The chancellor sneered briefly before speaking.
“Well, this may have been true once upon a time,” he sneered, looking down his nose at the interviewer, “but if we need to defend our economy then we have to do it through any means necessary. That makes it a military matter.”
The host tried to match the speed of his speech. “But chancellor, that simply isn’t correct. In fact, that statement is verging on treason. Military commanders aren’t elected by the population to make those kinds of—”
“I can assure you,” the chancellor interrupted, “that the people who love this planet the most and want to make sure that its interests are protected are the same men and women who have been serving in the armed services since before you were even born.”
“Whether they love the planet isn’t the question…”
Brad tried to keep the interview on track. The chancellor didn’t appear to operate on logic. Instead he just reverted to the same sound-bites he’d been airing on every other show, and every other media channel, for the last week. Brad had hoped that he could get him to say something different, but it just wasn’t happening.
“This is a matter of protocol and due process,” Brad tried to reason. “Just because they have access to the means to put a trade embargo in place, doesn’t—”
The chancellor cut over Brad again, “As I explained already, desperate times lead to desperate measures, and the Estarian economy is in dire straits. If you had missiles coming at the planets no one would question the appropriate authorities stepping in to defend you. And yet it is clear that the Ogg government is deliberately acting to jeopardize our very way of life.”
“I’m sorry, Chancellor, but that statement is simply not true.”
The chancellor continued talking without reference to the exhausted interviewer.
Brad exhaled, trying to keep his frustration invisible in the face of the unruly guest. It wasn’t the first time that an interviewee had steamrolled him in a discussion, but professional pride stopped him from retaliating with similar tactics. He knew that made him appear weak. Late News with Gardener was one of the last bastions in a stand against towing the line of corporate sponsorship, but there was a limit to how much longer they were going to be able to hold out.
Already they had been criticized for having a radical approach to their discussions, and their investigators were being blocked from many of the press conferences and events in protest to their bold claims against the establishment.
The only reason the Chancellor agreed to come on the interview was for exposure. And he was getting it.
Without very much heat.
Brad pushed his shoulders back, resigned. “I’m afraid that’s all we have time for tonight. Chancellor Rogen, thank you for your time.”
“In other news,” he continued, turning to the front, his eyes now relying on the auto-cue that had just started up again under camera one.
Out of the corner of his eye he could see the Chancellor being led off the stage, and into the blackness of the studio beyond.
Good riddance, he thought to himself, while simultaneously kicking himself for not having been able to manage the conversation better.
Base conference room, Gaitune-67
Molly strode back into the base conference room an hour later. She stopped in her tracks at the door.
Bloody hell. How did our team get so big?
Well, you’ve got Karina on board now. On account of her proving herself with Giles in his latest escapades. And then Arlene is up to help sort out the university fiasco. And then you’ve just got the usual suspects.
Molly collected herself and continued into the conference room, grabbing the only empty chair.
Joel sat across the huge table from her. She felt like he was a million miles away from her, which was pretty normal these days.
Sean and Karina sat down at the far end, to her right, clearly separate from the rest of the group. To her left Crash, Brock, Paige, Maya, Jack, and Pieter were interspersed between.
She nodded to Arlene. Arlene and Paige sat together. Molly could tell from subtleties in the body language that Paige was still enamored with Arlene’s special qualities.
She’s probably heard some of what has gone down on Giles’s missions.
Yeah. Giles doesn’t exactly keep details to himself. Especially not when he has the opportunity to show off.
Which makes me wonder why there hasn’t been more gossip about-
Hahaha. You stop talking in your head, but you know I know exactly what you’re thinking!
Molly felt herself blushing as she stood up. The hub of chatter died down quickly, all eyes on her now.
“Ok folks,” she started, “you’ve probably heard that we have a new mission, hence the assembly. But we have a number of things going on right now. Not least the university issue.”
She nodded in Paige’s direction.
“So how about we start with that, and then we’ll get down to the action hero stuff.”
Sean snorted, then caught a glare from Karina. He covered his mouth and nose and then settled back down.
Paige sat up, flipping open a couple of holoscreens as Molly sat back down, giving her the floor.
“Well,” Paige began slowly, “the short answer is this. We’re screwed.”
There was a ripple of whispers around the table.
“Despite our best efforts to beat the system, making sure we would pass every single one of their criteria, somehow we’ve still managed to fail. Maya is in the process of acquiring their work product, so we can see exactly what we’ve done wrong, but they’re refusing to share it with us because it’s their IP, and therefore protected by law. Allegedly. We have people on the board working the legal angle right now.”
Molly listened intently. She noticed that she felt incredibly alone in a room full of her team.
There was quiet in the room for a few moments. Then Arlene casually raised her hand. “I may be able to help.”
Molly nodded her the go ahead.
“Well,” Arlene continued, “Ben’or is here, on a kind of diplomatic mission cum vacation.” There were a few knowing smiles around the table.
“Go Arlene!” Brock teased. A wave of light laughter washed through the meeting.
Blushing, Arlene tried to hide her smile but to no avail. She carried on with her point. “The thing is, he’s an incredibly talented diplomat.”
“Bet that’s not all he’s talented at!” Sean interjected. He’d expected the same response as Brock got, but instead Karina elbowed him in the ribs and the laughter stopped.
Arlene ignored him. “He may be able to help. He could see things we’re missing, and he may have strategies that we could use to resolve the problem. I’m sure he’s dealt with worse in his position.”
Molly glanced across at Joel who seemed to agree it was worth a shot. “Ok,” she confirmed. “Let’s read him in. I’d set a meet on Estaria with him, Gareth Jones, Paige, Maya and yourself. I’m sure if you put your heads together you can come up with something else we can try.”
Arlene took a note on her holo, mostly to avoid awkward eye contact with the others around the table. Paige’s face relaxed, and then she also decided to take some notes.
“Okay, next item,” Molly announced.
Sean leaned forward, the playfulness gone from his demeanor. “Are you going to tell them about you pushing your will?”
She shook her head. “I don’t see how it’s relevant.”
“They need to know,” he insisted.
“Not now. Besides, we still need to test it.”
Oz chipped in. Hmm. I can set up a test.
Molly sighed mentally. Fine. Can I get back to running this briefing?
Be my guest.
“Next item is a new mission from Lance.”
There was shuffling from the group. Everyone sat up in sudden rapt attention.
Sean chuckled. “’Bout time we got to blowing some shit up for the Federation,” he muttered. Molly glanced at him, and he simmered down again.
He’s acting out?
Seems to be. Resisting domestication, I suspect.
Cute.
Molly poked at her holo and the presentation screen unfolded from the center of the table. A Leath ship appeared on it in three dimensions. “The General has asked us to intervene in a weapons trade,” she explained. “It seems that a rogue Leath faction is trying to buy weapons from the Skaines. The location isn’t far from here, which I suspect is why we caught the case.”
Sean chuffed. “Sure. That, and the fact that the General needs plausible deniability on this—which he won’t have if he sends some of his guys.”
Molly narrowed her eyes at him, studying while responding. “Sure. But you do realize we’re using Federation ships, Sean? Or had that escaped your notice these last few years?”
Sean shrunk back into his chair, looking sheepish. He shrugged with one hand that was resting on the table, almost abdicating his point.
Molly continued. “Our job is to show up at the exchange and meet the Skaines, so that the Leath group can’t take receipt of the weapons. If they’re prevented from doing the deed, I’m guessing that will reduce the charges, and allow the government to deal with the problem quietly. This has political implications, so there is zero error on this one, folks.”
She paused to check that everyone was following. “We, on the other hand, will get to deal with the Skaines, who I’m told are a delightful species. They’re mercenary at worst and commercially-minded at best. And the Leath are planning on either using the weapons or selling them to the highest bidder in any kind of high stakes war they can get a foothold in. The General wants the weapons taken out of circulation.” She ran a hand over her hair and sighed. “But that isn’t our biggest challenge. Brock, Crash, Pieter. I need you three working on the logistics of the situation. This is going to be a mid-space exchange and all we have are the coordinates of the meeting point and the time. I’d rather only have to deal with the Skaine ship so we need some way of shielding the exchange from the Leath, who will be showing up at the same time. If that wasn’t enough to contend with, we need to account for one party showing up before the other.”
Pieter scribbled notes frantically. Brock listened, frowning attentively. Crash’s face remained expressionless, as usual.
Sean opened his mouth to speak again, this time raising his hand to shoulder level. “Does this mean we have permission to use lethal force?”
Molly rolled her eyes.
“I’m just saying,” Sean continued as earnestly, as he could given his resting cynic face, “we could just blow their ship up and that would be the end of it.”
Molly shook her head, but Paige interjected before she could respond. “Dude. You know that’s not what we do. We bring them in, find out what we can, and then follow the situation to see if we can bag ourselves some more bad guys.”
Sean screwed his face up. “I think we need to be prepared though. Just in case it comes to it.”
Molly conceded. “As always. Yes. Okay, make sure we’re equipped to do that… just in case it comes to it. But it’s never been, nor ever will be, our first course of action.”
Sean mock-saluted. “Aye, aye, Captain!”
Molly and Paige locked eyes, a stream of communication running between them, that could be summarized in one word. “Boys!”
Molly grinned, shaking her head fondly. “Okay, any other questions?”
Karina raised her hand. “Where do you want me?” she asked, almost hesitantly.
Molly paused before she spoke. “How about coming along on The Empress?”
Karina’s eyes lit up.
“Sounds like we’ll need someone to keep Mr. Trigger-Happy in line, anyway,” Molly added dryly.
Karina accepted the challenge with a nod. Sean looked a little less enthusiastic, dropping down in his seat another inch.
“Okay, we know what we need to do. Let’s move out. Brock, Crash, run an ETA through Oz when you know where we stand with The Empress.”
“Aye, Captain,” Brock saluted, jumping up from his chair.
The team disbanded from the conference room in a flurry of activity, each headed out to get started on their various tasks.
Special Task Force Offices, Undisclosed location, Estaria
“All right people! Listen in!” Director Bates called over the chatter of the conference room. “Lots to get through this morning. We’ve had preliminary results of the analysis that some of you were involved with over the weekend, and the news isn’t good.” She remained standing at the head of the conference table, her presentation slides already projecting onto the room’s holoscreen.
The eager students-turned-first-intake-of-special-agents in Carol Bates’ Federation-endorsed “spy school” sat in the conference room. They were suited, booted, caffeinated and ready to work.
Having graduated from Molly’s Skóli Uppstigs Academy, it was hoped that they understood more of what the world needed to correct the balance that had been increasingly off-kilter in the Sark System.
Despite this, Carol somewhat doubted they understood the enormity of what they were going to face, nor the sacrifices that would be asked of them as they entered this world of intrigue. This was an aspect of their world that most of the citizens were blissfully unaware of the sacrifices of the people standing before her now would ensure they remained blissfully unaware. Their mandate was to ensure the people remained safe, with a better existence when all was said and done.
She had done her best to explain the stakes to them during her pep talk when they first joined the project. However, the more she tried to dissuade them, the more they strained at the bit to begin, relishing the challenges ahead. In the end she gave up, assuming that they would form their own opinions eventually anyway.
Just under a dozen agents waited with bated breath for their boss to read them in on everything that was transpiring in the underworld. She felt half sorry for them, these bright young things. They were initiates in a war against the corruption that permeated the shadows of the political and commercial landscape. Where the ebbs and flows which governed the trends and motivations were manipulated to massage public ego and hide the discrepancies of the avaricious. The secrets which quietly ran the existence of the civilization, impenetrable by the media, even less so to the masses who lacked the resources to pull together the pieces the agents were about to be made privy to.
The report she had studied an hour earlier showed a picture emerging in the data.
“It seems that we weren’t far off with our projections,” she confirmed. “Now that we have the intel to corroborate it I can tell you categorically that there is indeed a power grab happening in the heart of the Sarkian civilization as we speak. This power grab seems to be motivated and propelled by profit. Nothing new there—except that it is the single most organized movement that we have ever witnessed in the recorded history of Estaria.”
She glanced at the young faces of her new agents as she spoke. With a seasoned crew she would have expected an air of tension and gravity to descend on the room. Instead she saw glints of mounting excitement in the eyes that stared back at her.
Federenials! she thought to herself. They think that they can’t fail, and that the Federation is going to step in as soon as things get too intense down here. Pah. They’ll learn.
“To that end,” she continued, shaking the distracting thought of Lance Reynolds’ arrogance from her mind, “the two new political appointments that were announced last Thursday are a part of this campaign. Our analysis of financial transactions over the last few months has confirmed that these were instigated, if not ordered, by the Northern Clan.”
There was a muttering amongst a couple of agents off to her left. She gave them a warning glare. “Cyber taps on key suspected conspirators have also alerted us to two more possibilities. The position of the Undersecretary to the Department of Holo Media, and the Head of Cyber Communications.”
One of the agents to her right raised his hand, his starched atmosuit wrinkling in an unnatural way.
“Yes, Cleavon.”
“Aren’t these positions already occupied?”
Carol forced herself to display a tight half-smile by way of encouragement. Molly had suggested that she try and appear more personable with the agents. “Nice catch. Yes.” She held the smile as she looked back at the group. “That’s exactly the case. And so, we suspect that the existing personnel will either be moved or taken care of in some other way. If there is a plot to assassinate them, then we’ve got a reason to intervene. We’ll have evidence to take them down with, and may even prevent the assassinations from occurring. Anything else will be much harder to prove.”
She paused and focused her attention on the three agents down the right-hand side of the table about halfway back. “Bravo team: Elroy, Dhashana, and Cleavon, you’re on protecting the personnel. Charlie team: Alisha, Joshua, and Rhodez, you’re on the investigation. The two teams will collaborate in order to make sure the targets stay alive, get what we need to follow the chain of command back and get the guys who are pulling the strings.”
She eyeballed each of them as she spoke. “Think you’re up to it?”
“Yes, ma’am,” all the agents responded, almost in unison.
Carol nodded. “Good.”
She poked a few of the holographic keys on her wrist holo and a presentation screen lit up in the center of the table.
“Ok, Raza and Soraya, you’re on the existing appointees. One is in the Department of Near Space Communication, the head of which is Garet Beaufort. As you’ll see when you look at the file, the position that has been filled is the undersecretary to the office.”
Raza, the only Ogg on the team raised his hand. “Ma’am? What’s our working theory on why it’s the undersecretaries and deputies that are being targeted?”
“Good!” Carol applauded. “We suspect it’s because such appointments draw very little media attention, but they have the same access to intel and decision-making influence. But we don’t want to conclude that until we know for sure. If we can understand the motives behind the shuffle, then we may be able to deduce who else might be at risk.”
Carol flipped her holo closed, and the presentation screen folded away. “Raza, see if you can convince a judge to get cyber-surveillance on both of them. It would be nice to know where we stand.”
Soraya, who was occupying the place next to Raza interjected. “Isn’t that the Garet-guy that Molly rescued in the early days?”
Rhodez became animated. “Yeah. Before she faked her own death?”
All agents turned their full attention to Carol for the answers.
Carol pursed her lips. “I believe so,” she admitted reluctantly. “Like I said, it would be nice to know whether that was a mistake or not.”
Raza made a note on his holo. “I’ll get right onto it, ma’am.”
“Good,” Carol responded. “As soon as we get permission we want to have eyes and access to both appointees. And their bosses.”
Carol noticed that she had brought her mocha into the meeting and it was going cold. Dammit. “Elroy, I’d also like you to finish collating the data we’ve been analyzing over the weekend and get it onto the secure server for Molly to review.”
“Yes ma’am,” he confirmed.
“And Soraya, while we’re waiting on the judge, could you do a download and see if there is anything new from our friends in the sky?”
Soraya nodded and made a note.
She took a quick sip of the untouched mocha. “Ok. Any other questions?” Carol asked.
The newbie agents were quiet.
“Ok, off we go. Keep me posted on any developments as they happen. Other than that, we’ll reconvene for an interim briefing tomorrow at 8 am again. Dismissed.”
The agents got up and scuttled back out to their consoles in their windowless office space. They were much quieter than they had been in a class at the university. This was their chance to make an impact. To shine. To catch some bad guys and maybe eventually experience all the things they admired that they heard in Molly’s tales.
For this small cohort of graduates, this was a fantasy come true.
And no one wanted to do anything that would mess that up.
Cleavon hurried out to his desk and before he even sat down he was on a secure outside line to fix an appointment for a quiet off-book meeting with a judge who had been read in on the nature of their special task force.
He uttered the code word and waited on hold, watching around the office as his classmates hurried to execute their orders. Holoscreens jumped to life as each one settled at their enhanced and secured consoles, tapping into the network of intel and chatter that was the lifeblood of their new world.
He sat down and leaned back as the data rolled down his screen. Life didn’t get much better than this.
Chapter 3
“Hans, I need a word,” Director Bates muttered to him quietly as his teammates left the meeting room.
Hans hung back discreetly while the others filed out before pulling out the chair nearest the door. He hadn’t said a word during the meeting. Nor asked about what his assignment was. He understood he had a slightly different role to play in this organization.
Carol closed the door after the last of the agents had left. “I want you to investigate something else. It's just a hunch at this point, but some of these personnel changes are reminding me of an operative turned mercenary I used to know when I was in the field. You’ll have to be extremely careful though. I want you to work closely with Philip.”
As if deliberately choreographed, Philip arrived at the transparent meeting room door. He tapped on the glass before letting himself in. “Oh, you've started without me?”
“Not really,” she told him. “Just getting to it.”
He wandered in with a steaming cup of mocha and sat down at the table on the opposite side to Hans, leaving Carol still standing at the head of the table, as if still presenting to a group of agents. She seemed to relax a little and pulled out her own chair to sit too.
“You told him about your Sneaky Steve theory?” Philip asked with an almost flirtatious grin.
“Just getting into it,” she repeated.
“Carol has been after him for years,” Philip confided, hiding his grin from Carol behind his hand.
Carol eyed him amused and exasperated. “I hope you’re not suggesting that my instincts are tainted by a mere vendetta?” she challenged.
Philip pantomimed being attacked for his disclosure. “I would do no such thing!”
“Good,” she said firmly, reactivating the presentation holo with her wrist device. “This is Sneaky Steve, as we used to call him. He'll be around Philip’s age now, so probably also slowing down.” She dropped the comment as if it were an innocuous observation. A detail that might help her agent in assessing the threat.
“Hey!” Philip protested.
“Focus!” Carol instructed, moving swiftly on and enjoying her ability to playfully taunt him. “It took us forever to catch onto him because... well, he was so sneaky. Hence his imaginative nickname. None of his victims would be killed in the same way. And in fact, they'd often go undetected for the longest time because more than half the time we'd never recover a body.”
Hans shifted slightly in his chair but kept his expression neutral as he assessed the intel on the screen.
Carol continued. “Most of those cases still officially went down as missing persons.”
Hans had a hand over his face, his arm leaning on the arm of the chair. He moved his hand to speak. “How was he getting rid of the bodies so efficiently?”
“We found traces of acid at one of the victim's houses in the bathroom. We think he...”
Carol didn’t finish her sentence. From the grimace on Hans’ face, she didn’t need to.
“Even if he wasn't involved in our disappearing government employees, if he's around then we need to do something about him. He’s a nasty piece of work and needs taking off the streets.”
Philip bobbed his head as Carol spoke. “Permanently,” he added in.
“Which is why this is a private conversation.” Carol’s face grew dark. “To be clear, you are hereby authorized to use any means necessary to take this man out of play.”
Hans nodded abruptly, once. “I understand.”
“We'll get you access to the file while you're in the building,” Philip explained, “but you won’t be able to access it from anywhere else.”
“Of course,” Hans acknowledged.
“You'll report directly to Philip on this one too,” Carol added. “Ok. That's it. Any questions?”
“No, ma'am.”
“Excellent.” Carol stood up. “Good luck, Hans.”
Hans got to his feet too. “Thank you, ma’am.” He nodded to Philip and headed out to the workstations to join his colleagues.
Carol waited for the door to close behind him. “You think he can handle it?” she asked, her gaze following him down the stairs and into the main office.
Philip took a sip of his mocha. “He’ll be fine.” He laughed quietly. “Reminds me of myself at that age.”
Carol snorted lightly. “What? Young?”
Philip narrowed his eyes at her but thought it prudent not to continue his musings.
Ola Restaurant, Spire, Estaria
Arlene arrived at the restaurant feeling uncharacteristically flustered. The maître d’ had sent her through to find her “friend.” The lighting was low, and it was a semi-casual arrangement, creating a relaxed ambiance. She recognized a silhouette over at the far window waving, guiding her in.
She wandered over between the tables, noting the ones occupied by diners. A smooth melody emanated from hidden speakers in the background and the smell of onions and garlic hung in the air.
“Ben’or!” she exclaimed, approaching his table. He stood for her, hugging her as though they’d been friends for years.
“I’m glad you made it. It did cross my mind that you might have been too tired after a full day’s work and that secret off-world meeting of yours.”
She waved her hand, as he pulled her chair out for her. “It wasn’t secret.”
Ben’or smiled knowingly.
“Ok. So, it was a little. But not for you. I have clearance to tell you something about it.”
He raised one eyebrow as if he knew what was coming. Arlene was about to question his expression when their server appeared to take their drinks order.
Ben’or ordered an Estarian wine, commenting that he’d seen some documentary about it on the way over. Arlene wasn’t sure if he was teasing her or if this Zhyn warrior turned diplomat really did have access to information as mundane as their farming and winery practices.
“So,” he began as the waiter walked away “Do you want me to tell you about the wine we’re going to drink, or would you like to invite me onto your project first?”
“How did you-?”
“Well, why else would you be given clearance to talk to me about it.”
Arlene blushed. “Of course,” she admitted shyly. ”It’s been a long day.” She caught him up with the general things that had been happening before the server arrived with their wine, uncorked and poured it, and then left them to talk.
“The problem is with the university, and since you’re such an excellent diplomat I just thought you’d be able to see it from an angle that maybe we haven’t considered yet.”
“Oh. You want me for my mind!” he teased.
Arlene frowned playfully. “What else would I want you for?”
Ben’or held up his glass to toast her. “We can begin with my mind, then.” He winked at her as their wineglasses touched. Arlene felt herself flush again and tried to calm herself by taking some discreet long breaths.
It had been a long time since their Moons of Orn adventure, and though they had hit it off and promised to stay in touch, their individual duties and responsibilities had kept them from spending much time communicating. The extreme distances didn’t help, and as far as Arlene knew Ben’or didn’t have access to Gate technology.
All of that made her feel that it was more her responsibility to head out to see him, but then one talisman after another had dragged her on one trip after another and kept her a little too busy to be allowing herself to indulge in a romance.
But now, here they were.
Ben’or listened raptly while Arlene explained the situation with the university, and how they were about to be closed down.
“Of course, I would be honored to be of assistance,” he told her when she drew to a nervous close.
“Great,” she breathed. “We have a meeting set for tomorrow. We’re just trying to confirm the timing since we need Paige there too, and she’s the limiting factor at the moment.”
“Well, as you know, I purchased a holo device for my time on Estaria, so I am contactable any time, day or night.”
She grinned. “Well, we’ll try and make sure you have the nights free, but there are no guarantees with Molly projects.”
He chuckled. “Yes, I got that impression. Now, how about you tell me everything that I’ve missed since I last had the pleasure of your company.”
They talked for several hours, until the restaurant was finally deserted but for a couple of exhausted staff members. Arlene stifled a yawn as they paid their bill.
“Looks like it’s time to call it a night.” Ben’or looked around at the empty tables set ready for the next day in surprise. “Let me get you home,” he offered.
She waved her hand. “Tell you what, how about I get you home? You like interesting technology, don’t you?”
His eyes lit up with the same enthusiasm that drew him to her when they had met the first time on his home planet. “I do indeed. Is this hush-hush technology?”
Her mouth turned up just a touch, telling him everything –and nothing at all.
Ben’or’s mouth opened slightly. “Well, lead the way, m’lady,” he told her with a flourishing gesture.
The pair left the restaurant, tipsy on wine and the high of each other’s company.
Base workshop, Gaitune-67
Pieter and Brock clattered down the stairs to the basement. Having spent a few hours in the meeting room with Molly sifting through their options and making sure they knew the parameters of the meet, they now understood the task they had ahead of them.
It was not straightforward.
Brock, half dazed from wracking his brain, scratched at his head as he arrived in the workshop.
“So how are we going to pull this little miracle off?” Pieter asked, following him like the ever-eager assistant.
“I’m not sure yet,” he confessed, waving his hand in front of one of the workshop holoconsoles. It activated his music at an ambient volume level. “I think the two biggest problems we need to solve are how to fool a Skaine ship into thinking we’re their Leath contacts, and how to remain hidden from the Leath ship when that shows up too.”
Pieter rubbed at his eyes. “Let’s not forget we need to hide the Skaine ship from the view of the Leath ship, too. Can’t have it just crashing the party.”
“Dammit. That’s true. And then there is the issue of what happens if the Leath ship shows up first.”
Pieter thought for a moment. He slung his gear bag down on the sofa where they play video games. “If the Leath arrive first we need to be able to shield them from the Skaines in order to take their place.”
“Good point,” Brock agreed. “So, we need some kind of cloaking device that we can throw over a ship, and then use that for a maximum of ourselves and another ship.”
Pieter frowned, trying to keep up. “Why just one?”
“Because as soon as the Skaines arrive we need to hide them from the Leath, but it doesn’t matter then who sees the Leath.”
“Right.” Pieter narrowed one eye, as he thought it through.
“But then if we arrive first we hide the Skaines automatically, and the Leath can’t see either of us,” Brock continued.
Crash arrived, catching the tail-end of the conversation. “Exactly,” he interjected. “Only one problem though.”
“Just one?” Pieter asked. His hair looked extra unkempt, likely on account of him pulling at it every now and again, in a subconscious attempt to keep the variables straight in his mind.
“If we’re under a cloak, then our instruments won’t be able to see anything that’s outside the cloak,” Crash explained grimly. “Our tech is good, but not that good.”
Brock slapped a hand to his head. “Shit. He’s got a point.”
Pieter shrugged. “So, I guess we’re back to plan B then.”
Brock and Crash looked at him quizzically.
Pieter grinned. “Magic wand.”
Crash didn’t react. Brock chuckled in amusement. “If only those were Federation-issue. I think we’re just going to have to do it blind. Unless we can come up with another way. Either that, or we come up with a brand-new technology before we get our marching orders.”
“No small feat,” Pieter mumbled.
The three debated the technical details of the issue for a few more minutes before making a decision.
“I think,” Brock decided, “that our best course of action right now is to focus on getting the cloaking device working. Pieter, you wanna help me?”
Crash looked hurt for a moment. Brock noticed immediately. “I need you to make sure we can get the ship’s forcefield up and looking adequately Leath-like.”
Crash took a deep breath, his face relaxing somewhat. “I’m not sure I even know what a Leath ship looks like these days. I know we had to memorize it for Fed training when we started flying these babies, but it’s been a while.”
Pieter checked something on his holo. “I think they’ll have the program already on the server somewhere. So, it’s just an upload. Emma will be able to help check that it’s current and not going to blow our cover.”
Crash headed off in the direction of the daemon door. “Guess that means that our MMO-RPG tournament is off the table for tonight.
“‘Fraid so,” Brock confirmed. “Someone should let Bourne know though,” he added, a little awkwardly.
“Bagsy not me,” Crash muttered without hesitation.
Pieter and Brock stood looking at each other. Brock reacted first. “I’ve got to check the auxiliary power on The Empress before we run the program, which means you have time before I need you.”
“But…” Pieter protested, watching Brock move to collect up the tools he was going to need. “He can be such an asshole when he doesn’t get his own way!”
Brock shrugged. “You can treat it as an opportunity to teach him some emotional intelligence,” he suggested in his most helpful tone.
“But…”
Brock turned and slapped the top of Pieter’s arm confidently. “You’ve got this.”
Pieter shriveled. “Dude…”
Brock closed his toolbox and hauled it onto his shoulder. “You can do it. Get resourceful.” He headed off in the direction of the daemon door too.
Pieter slumped down on the stool and opened the console to communicate with Bourne, who may or may not have already heard them talking about him. He hesitated, wondering if he could ask Paige to intervene and make their excuses for them.
That was when he had another idea.
He typed a message onto Bourne’s server, the place where they’d agreed they would call him from if they wanted to find him.
Bourne responded through the workshop audio almost immediately. “’Sup, Pieter? You ready to play?”
“Good news and bad news, Bourne.”
“Oh? Give me the good first.”
Pieter mentally crossed his fingers. Bourne was always angling to help on their cases. Hopefully this tack would get him off the hook. “I may have an opportunity for you to help with some mission stuff, if you’re game.”
“What was the bad news?”
“Everyone else is super busy trying to get things ready for an urgent op.”
There was a long pause. Pieter wondered if Bourne was doing it deliberately as a manipulation. He had been watching an incredible amount of drama from the archives.
“Oh,” he said eventually.
Pieter felt himself holding his breath. “So, are you in?”
“Yeah. What do you need? My hacking is nearly as good as Oz’s now. I managed to read fragments of his personal logs the other day.”
Pieter paused thinking what that meant. “You mean, you read his diary?”
“I did.”
“Bourne! You know that’s personal.”
“That’s what makes it interesting!”
Pieter’s head fell into his hand. “Okay, I’m intrigued to know what an AI would be writing about, but right now we have work to do. Do you think you could help me find out everything we might need to know about the Leath and the Skaines? We’re going to be engaging them on an op and none of us have really had much contact with any of them.”
“No problemo,” Bourne told him, his synthetic voice more animated now. “I’ll just need to piggyback off Oz’s connection to the Federation servers. Or… I could go the route of hacking the Estarian and Ogg government files on their interactions.”
Pieter’s head remained in his hands. “Fuck my life,” he mumbled.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. I was just realizing that all of a sudden I have more empathy for Molly’s predicaments when it came to establishing morality for herself and Oz in the early days.”
“I don’t see how that is remotely connected to what we were just talking about. You know there are a host of human ailments that result in the deterioration of the trail of thought. Have you experienced any other symptoms? You might need to be checked out by a medical professional.”
Pieter took a deep breath. This was going to be a long night…
Chapter 4
Kitchen, Safehouse, Gaitune-67
Molly padded into the kitchen, half-awake. It had been a long night of preparation for the mission and she only switched off her holo after Oz insisted that everything else that needed to be done could only be hindered by her interference.
She eyed the mocha machine as she ambled past it. It used to be her friend. Well, if she were totally honest it was more like one of those love-hate relationships, since when she was hooked she couldn’t contemplate functioning without its sweet nectar. However, being somewhat old and decrepit it never did make morning mocha without a fight.
Now she was free of the abusive relationship she was able to resist its torment and head straight for the filtered water which she would boil and add various teas to depending on her mood.
Today was a lemon day, she decided, plopping a wedge into a cup and flicking the kettle on.
“Looks who’s up without a wakeup call!” Joel strode into the kitchen.
Molly glared at him. “Have I ever mentioned I hate morning people?”
He chuckled firing up the various kitchen devices that would allow him to make whatever his morning concoction was going to be that day. Sometimes he made smoothies, other times soups. Sometimes, he even cooked protein substitutes. Molly didn’t keep track. It was all too much to contemplate before she’d done some work and got the day underway.
“Can I interest you in a green mocha smoothie?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No thanks. I wanna get dressed and then see what the situation is downstairs.”
Joel was already biting into a piece of fruit. “Ah, yes. It was late when I heard Brock and Crash come up to the safe house. Just seen Pieter too. He looked like a zombie.”
Molly frowned. “Going to bed or getting up?”
“He was in pajamas, so he was getting up I believe.”
“Ok good. I’d told them not to stay up all night.” She poured her water on her lemon and started to head out.
“Hey,” Joel called after her. “I know there is a lot going on, what with the university and your parents and everything, but if you wanna talk?”
Molly shrugged. “Nothing to say… unless you’ve got a way to fix it all?”
Joel sighed. “I haven’t. But… you know. I’m here.”
Molly turned back and plonked her mug on the table. She headed straight for Joel and threw her arms around his middle in a bear hug.
Completely taken aback, he nearly lost his balance. He held her for a second. He couldn’t see her face, and he didn’t know what was going on. All he knew was that she was allowing him a moment—and that was huge.
For both of them.
Sorry to interrupt Molly, but…
Molly peeled herself away from Joel’s torso. Joel braced himself for her shutting him out. He glanced down at her and saw that her eyes were distant, but not teary. And then he realized. “Oz?”
She nodded. “What is it, Oz?”
His voice came over the kitchen intercom. “All systems are prepped and ready for take-off whenever you non-data entities are ready to get your asses moving.”
Joel sniggered. Molly couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Oz. We’ll get our slow, carbon-based suits moving and ready to go. Put the word out to the team, would you?”
“All over it,” he confirmed.
Molly shook her head and released Joel, who just seemed happy for the contact. She headed back out of the kitchen, picking up her mug on the way. “This life-form isn’t going to dress itself!” she joked as she left.
Joel chuckled away to himself and continued making his breakfast. No way was he leaving on an empty stomach. The machines could wait…
Aboard The Penitent Granddaughter, Agresh Quadrant
Nickie eyed the anxious-looking Skaine carefully.
“All right Durq, are you sure you’re up to this?”
“Yes. Yes. Of course. This is, after all, what you rescued me for.” He shifted his weight from one large foot to the other.
Nickie plonked herself down in the pilot seat and threw her feet up on the now-redundant console. “I think we need to clear that up, actually,” she told him. “Grab a seat.” She pointed at another console chair in the cockpit.
Durq shuffled toward it and delicately sat down.
“You seem to think that the only reason I rescued you was because you could be useful.”
Durq nodded respectfully. Politely, even.
No doubt he’s as whipped as Skaine come, Meredith.
Well, it sounds like he’s been through an awful lot. Even his rescue situation would have been enough to traumatize a normal human. Thankfully Skaine neurology is a little more robust.
You’re such a pussy for an EI that isn’t even meant to have emotions.
I have empathy algorithms. It makes my interface-
Whatever. Lemme sort out one pussy at a time…
“Well, that’s not quite true,” Nickie explained slowly. “The reason I rescued you was because you were an innocent in all that kerfuffle. And I wanted those bigoted bullies to pay. And pay dearly. For what they did to you, and the others. Do you understand?”
He nodded. “I think so. So, you did it for justice?”
“Yeah. Albeit my own twisted sense of justice. But I guess since I’m the captain that’s the only type of justice we need to worry about.”
You’re sounding more and more like your aunt each day.
All right, Meredith. When I need an intervention on morality—or anything else—I’ll ask for it. Stay on task.
Oh, I am on task. If you look at the screen you’ll see that I’m already tracking an incoming ship. Looks Federation though, under the shields filter. Federation tech.
Shit. You’re kidding. Out here in the boondocks?
Affirmative. Although, they’re emitting the correct signal for it to be the Leath we were expecting.
Are you sure?
As sure as the signal can be.
So, what are we meant to conclude?
Nothing yet. Let’s see what happens.
“Ok, Durq-the-Skaine,” Nickie continued, “you’re going to be up sooner than we thought you would be.”
The new crew member shifted nervously on his seat, but Nickie was already on her feet, flicking through console screens.
“Ok, here’s what we’re going to do. Just like we rehearsed. You’re going to stay on camera, and Meredith is going to keep flicking the screen as if we have a faulty transmission. That’ll stop them getting a really good look at you. So I can do the talking, through the voice distortion filter, and you can look like the one talking.”
Durq’s already wrinkled and bumpy face contorted even more. “I’m up for this… but… are you sure this is going to work?”
Nickie rolled her eyes. “Of all the Skaines I could have been landed with, I get the scaredy-cat.”
Play nice. He’s doing us a huge favor.
And getting a cushy number in return.
“Where’s Grim?” she called out loud.
“Here!” Grim appeared at the door to the cockpit, out of breath, with crumbs around his mouth.
“Found time for a snack, did we?”
“Well, I was starving. All of this prep for intrigue was making me hungry. Plus, I thought I’d whip up some pie for later. You know, when we’re done.”
Nickie’s voice softened. “Well... Yes, that sounds like it could be a good idea. For later. With a nice pint of that beer.”
Her eyes defocused for a moment, probably thinking about the food and beer. A second later she seemed to snap back to reality.
“Ok people, we’re up! Meredith is tracking the exchange ship in. We need to stay out of sight. So, if you’re going to be in here, you need to come to this end of the cockpit, out of sight of the camera. So get your Yollin ass over here or get out.”
Grim dusted his mouth off and hot-footed it over to the corner where Nickie was standing. He perched across the nearest console chair.
Nickie checked the screen that would provide the video screen, and then pulled him another three inches out of view.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
Meredith’s voice came on over the intercom this time, instead of just inside Nickie’s nanocyte-enhanced head. “Okay. They’ll be here in about a minute. They’re already opening comm channels. Are you sure you don’t need to talk this through again?”
“Meredith!” Nickie growled out loud. “I know I’ve been AWOL for a while, but I know how to do a fucking exchange. We just need to get them on board at the cargo hold, where Durq will meet them. Then we’ll go from there. It’s not fucking rocket science.”
“Go from there? Huh. You know your grandfather would have had three or four different scenarios mapped out. And then he’d have his team fully briefed on each one.”
“Well, I’m not my grandfather. I’m my own person.”
“Masquerading as your aunt no less.”
“Meredith, this really isn’t the time to be critiquing my life choices. Or my operational methodologies.”
“Right. Well, you just let me know when it is an appropriate time.”
“I will. Heads up, it’ll be sometime between now and, hmm… lemme see… around the same time Hell freezes over!
“You have incoming,” Meredith reported coolly.
Nickie pulled again at Grim’s neck, making sure he was out of the frame. “You’re up Durq.”
Durq stood in the center of the cockpit now, looking as weedy and nervous as the day she had rescued him from a hellish inferno. He twiddled his fingers just below the frame. Nickie shook her head in frustration and picked up the microphone.
“This is the vessel Your Future's Devine… You’re talking with Commander Durq. Identify!” she ordered in her deepest, gruffest Skaine dialect.
I hope your voice alteration is doing some work on this. Any lower and I think I’ll break my vocal chords.
It will convince them, easily. I assure you.
Hangar Deck, Gaitune-67
Molly stood on the hangar deck, waiting for Paige and Maya to arrive. She saw them emerging not from the safe house, but from the direction of the base’s conference rooms and labs. Presumably they had been in Paige’s office, working.
“You all set?” Paige asked as she approached.
Molly watched Pieter carrying his gear on board The Empress. “I think that’s the last of us,” she confirmed, nodding in his direction. “You all set for your meeting later?”
Paige pulled up her holo. “We absolutely are. We’ve been brainstorming possible angles. It’s going to be good to get another set of eyes on it for sure.”
“Good. And the legal position?” She glanced over at Maya who had been following that up.
“Moving at the pace of lawyers still,” she explained. “I can’t even get an initial read. But there is a guy that we’ve managed to get a call with. I’ve heard from a few sources he’s a brilliant legal mind. If there is a way out of this, he’ll find it.”
Molly pursed her lips. Her complexion was pale as if she was tired and run down. The stress around the university situation probably wasn’t helping, Paige realized.
“Don’t worry, Mollz,” Paige told her, placing a hand on her arm. “Let us worry about it. You need to stay focused,” she reminded her, looking back up at The Empress.
Molly smiled. “You’re right. I appreciate everything you’re doing. And thank the others for me when you meet, yeah?”
“I will,” Paige promised. “Just get out there and get the bad guys.”
Molly hugged each of them quickly and then headed down the side of the ship to the invisible steps. Paige and Maya waved and then hurried back in the direction of the office. There was much to prepare. Bringing Ben’or on board, Paige wanted to make sure that they had all their ducks in a row in order to make a good impression.
Room 434, Skóli Uppstigs Academy, Spire, Estaria
Later that afternoon, the group sat around the table in a smaller classroom in the main building. Disposable mocha cups littered the table, along with screwed up napkins and holoscreens that had been left open as they tried to figure out the solution.
Gareth Jones explained his latest thinking on the issue. “I think the root cause is that we’re just making too many waves. We’ve had a few graduates go out into the workplace and already they’re rising to positions of responsibility. They’re questioning everything, changing established practices to better serve the people. It’s making a difference and the powers that be are feeling threatened. Ultimately, we’re victims of our success.”
Paige nodded sadly, untidy wisps of her hair falling around her face. “Never saw that coming.”
Ben’or fitted a lid back onto his empty cup. “So who are they, and what do they want?” His tone was that of a guru. Despite the simplicity of the question, just because it came from Ben’or it seemed that it had more wisdom to it.
Gareth sighed, leaning back in his seat. “It’s difficult to say really. The order for the H&S investigation most certainly came from the Senate. That means we’re looking at people in the planet’s leadership who have a lot to lose if we undo the current preferential system.”
“Well then, our solution needs to target them. Make it worth their while to leave us be,” Ben’or explained simply.
Gareth shrugged. “There’s no way we can do that. We don’t know who is instigating it, or why. Or what they hope to gain specifically. We’re assuming we’re dealing with an ideology. That’s very difficult to counter.”
Ben’or nodded his huge head sagely. “It is. But they think they’re going to gain something from what they’re doing. If we are able to give them that in a different way, then we may well be able to diffuse the situation and repeal the order. We just need to figure out the who, and then find out what is more important to them.”
Arlene tapped her finger on the table. “You know,” she mused thoughtfully, “this is a case for more information. If we had more intel, we’d have somewhere to go.”
Ben’or nodded. “Exactly,” he said, tapping the table gently too, subconsciously mirroring her.
She pursed her lips for a moment before speaking again. “I think this might be a good exercise for our graduate analysts.”
Gareth looked at her with an expression like he was trying to do long division in his head.
“Analysts?” Ben’or queried.
Arlene nodded. “Well, you know what we do here?”
“Yes.”
“Well, some of our graduates went out into the world. But some were recently sent to a ‘sister’ organization. We affectionately call it Spy School because it is headed up by the head of clandestine services—”
“Who also happens to be Molly’s Mom,” Paige interjected with a grin.
Ben’or’s eyebrows jumped. “You’re serious?”
Arlene nodded. “I’m afraid so. But the good news is that these kids have access to Federation technology, processing power, and have been trained to make the smart call. They’re already proving to be quite an asset to what we’re trying to do… and given what you’ve suggested, it sounds like they could also be the key to helping us narrow the problem down.”
She made a note. “If we’re all in agreement I’ll reach out to Carol tonight and see what we can get rolling.”
Everyone nodded.
“Great. Anything else?” she asked.
“I don’t think so,” Gareth concluded. “Let us know what she says, and perhaps we can reconvene in a few days?”
“Sounds good,” Arlene confirmed.
Within a few minutes the meeting had been closed and Paige and Maya were heading down the deserted corridors together back to their pod.
“Well, at least there is hope,” Maya mumbled, attempting optimism through her fatigue and worry.
“Yeah.”
“You ok?”
“Yeah fine. Why?”
“You seem distracted.”
“Oh… I was just thinking. I think I’m going to try and get a few hours of work done before I crash tonight.”
“It’s already getting late.”
“Yeah, but I’ve got some ideas I wanna try out in the business. Last ditch attempt to counter the downward pull of futility.” Paige moved her head as if mocking her own melodrama.
Maya giggled. “Wow! Existential for this time of the day!”
“I know,” Paige confessed, more lightly now. “I’ve just been thinking. Von’s classes always get me thinking.”
“Ah, the raison d’être of education!”
“Exactly!” Paige concurred. They clattered down the steps of the side exit from the building and hopped into the waiting Pod.
“As long as you don’t work too hard,” Maya warned as they buckled in. “I’m going to finish up some messages and then chill. Brock said something about group gaming later. Apparently with Oz’s new capacity he can run some pretty incredible immersion graphics that are mind-blowingly disorientating.”
Paige rolled her eyes. “Sounds like fun though,” she admitted.
Maya grinned. “Yeah, especially when Bourne gets involved and changes the game dynamics on the fly—and then Oz and Bourne end up arguing. They’re so funny!”
The tension from the meeting left them as they ascended into the twilight, returning their minds to their home and friends.
Chapter 5
Aboard The Empress, Agresh Quadrant
The cockpit held the hum of quiet research. Pieter sat at the console closest to the back wall, holo screens out and diligently researching everything he might need to know about the Skaines, their ships, and their systems.
He cocked his head, then straightened up and turned to Brock. “Dude, how are we planning to get on board once we find it?”
Brock swiveled round in the navigator’s console chair. “Huh?”
“The Skaines have compatible shuttles which dock into their ships, so they can move from one ship to another, or from ground to space. We haven’t got one of those shuttles.”
Brock’s face contorted. “Shit. I hadn’t thought of that. All the work we were doing on the forcefield and the cloaking device…” He grinned and pointed at Pieter. “Good catch though!”
He turned back to Crash, who remained stoic and motionless but for the flicking of his eyes over the console panel and the odd movement of his fingers on the controls. “You reckon this should be an ops team issue.”
Crash smirked.
Brock scratched his head and turned back to Pieter. “I don’t think that would fly with them.” He paused, realizing his pun. “Get it?”
Pieter sniggered. “Yeah. Funny. Ok, lemme go talk to them.”
He slipped down from his console chair, flicking the open holoscreens closed. Deep in thought, he headed out to the lounge to find Joel and Jack sitting toward the far end.
He explained the problem. Joel rubbed at the stubble on his chin. “Hmm. I’d not thought that bit through,” he confessed. “Although… I don’t suppose there is any problem with using the pods.”
Pieter chuckled and slapped his palm against his head. “Sometimes I think I overcomplicate things!”
Jack grinned at him. “Sometimes we need someone who can deal with the complex.”
Pieter blushed and scuffed at the floor with his plimsole. “Thanks,” he said quietly.
Jack flashed her confident smile at him. “You need to start taking more credit for what you bring to this team,” she told him.
Joel nodded. “Yeah. You’re doing good stuff. And we should have thought of it too. We were kinda distracted with the strategy of how to communicate with them and the various ways that could play out.”
Pieter cocked his head, curiously. “What are the plays?”
Joel grunted. “We have a number of them depending on whether they respond to us as Leath or whether they discover that our shields are only projecting the illusion of a Leath ship.
Pieter’s eyes widened. “What if they’re onto us?”
Joel shrugged. “I think that was play number 2b.”
Jack nodded in confirmation.
He continued. “We start by hailing them in Skaine. Then, if they respond we get into a dialog, and tell them we suspect them of being here for an illegal weapons trade and that we’re here to take them in.”
Pieter’s brow furrowed skeptically. “When have we ever taken anyone in?”
Joel jutted his bottom lip out. “First time for everything!”
Pieter glanced up and down the length of the lounge. ”Where would we even put them? We haven’t got holding cells, and my research has shown that these guys are huge! And powerful. No way you can restrain them with the usual arm restraints. Not without them killing you first.”
Sean popped up over the chair in front of them. “That’s because we’re never going to be able to restrain them. I think we all know this. These guys aren’t going to be taken alive.”
Joel tried to suppress a sigh. “We need to at least try and do it by the book.”
Sean grinned. “Which is why you’ve got the right equipment to do it? Oh no… I don’t see us dragging a holding cell large enough to hold a full Skaine crew!”
Joel pressed his lips together and gave Pieter a pained look. “He has a point,” he conceded.
Pieter still looked perplexed. “So how is this really going to go down?”
“Well,” Joel explained, “going by the probabilities Oz ran up for us, the most likely scenario is that we end up fighting for our lives.”
“I see,” Pieter muttered.
Joel had expected him to be a little more anxious. Perhaps it was his preoccupation with the practicalities, or perhaps this once-green kid was starting to acclimatize to operational reality.
“So that’s why Crash and Brock were spending so much time reinforcing the force field. And hooking up back up power cells?” he mused.
Joel bobbed his head. “Yep. You got it.”
Pieter shrugged. “Ok. Well, that’s good to know.” He started back toward the cockpit. “I’m actually quite curious to meet a Skaine.” And with that, he wandered off.
Jack exhaled sharply as if she’d been holding it.
Joel looked at her. “You think he’s ok?”
“I think he’s embracing his role.” She shrugged. “I mean, he’s never going to be a meat-head like Mr. Royale…”
Sean glared at her.
“But,” she continued, “he’s actually showing signs of being a damn good operative. A bit more time to grow into his paws, and maybe a few hundred hours in the gym, and he’ll be pretty formidable in the field.”
Joel smirked. “Aww. Our little boy is growing up…”
Sean rolled his eyes and slumped back down into the seat behind.
Karina detected a hint of frustration. “Everything ok?”
“Yeah,” Sean gruffed. “Just need to watch my back. Sounds like boy wonder over there is after our jobs.”
Karina chuckled. “Well, would it be so bad if you got to take a back seat now and again?”
Sean looked at her sideways. “This is where it begins. The beginning of the end of a beautiful career.”
Karina chuckled, slapping him playfully on the arm. “No silly. We talked about this. I’m happy running around the galaxy running missions. Especially now I have you.”
Joel appeared over the top of the seat in front of them. “Don’t suppose you have a sick bag? I think I’m gonna hurl!”
Laughter erupted in the lounge as Sean took a playful swipe at Joel. Even Molly chuckled from the other side of the ship where she was working.
Hey?” Sean poked his head back up. “Anyone going to tell Pieter that it’s Leath that are the vicious big ones, not Skaines?”
Director Bates’s office, Special Task Force Offices, Undisclosed location, Spire
The holo connection opened.
“Carol,” Arlene stated by way of a greeting.
“Arlene,” Carol responded. There was a serious lack of warmth and genuineness in her voice. Arlene felt it with every fiber of her being. But she didn’t have to like the woman for her to help save the university. After all, it was Carol’s daughter’s project, so it wasn’t as if Carol was exactly doing her a favor.
“Long time.”
“It has been, yes. How are things?” Arlene asked, genuinely curious what this woman had been up to recently to be brought in on a Reynolds-sanctioned project.
“Very good, thank you,” she responded. “Interesting to be working on the same side of the Federation.”
Arlene tried to smile. “Well, we all knew this day would come.”
“Oh, we did, did we?”
Arlene’s fake smile faded, despite her best efforts. This woman was just as curt and destructive as she had always been. And giving her their version of Spy School obviously wasn’t helping her ego. “Well, anyway,” Arlene said, getting down to business, “I’m reaching out because it looks like our attempts to keep the university safe have proven unsuccessful. They’ve failed us on the grounds of health and safety, so they’ll be issuing a closure notice any day now. We have the vacation break to turn it around.”
“I see. And how can Clandestine Services be of assistance?”
“Well, I was thinking your new team of analysts might be able to help. We’re trying a new approach, finding out exactly who is behind it—”
“And shooting them?”
“Er. No.”
Arlene closed her eyes for a moment willing herself not to consider the idea after all she heard being taught on the curriculum.
“No,” she repeated firmly, as if trying to convince Carol rather than herself. “No, what we need to do is find out who and then figure out why, and then find another way-
“To leverage them?” Carol offered.
Arlene considered the words for a moment and then nodded. “Sure,” she said. “And then leverage them.”
“Ok. Sounds pretty standard to me. Any idea who we’re dealing with? Any leads? Names?”
Arlene shook her head. “Only that it comes from within the H&S department in local government. We’re already pursuing legal angles, so we can send over the details involved in case there is a lead amongst the rubble.”
“Yes, that would be useful. I’ll give you the address for a secure server we can both access.”
“Ok.”
“Anything else I should know?”
“At this point? I don’t think so. We’d just really appreciate any light you can throw on it.”
“Ok. Leave it with me. No promises, but we’ll see what we can do.”
“Thanks, Carol.”
“Sure thing, Arlene. Good to see you.” Her tone had all the sincerity of an Uptarlung car salesman.
“You too,” Arlene responded as generously as she could manage.
Arlene shook the thoughts from her head and closed the remaining holoscreens at her desk. She got up from her darkened home office and ambled through to the living room, following the light, and faint sounds of movement. Ben’or sat on the sofa waiting for her. He’d opened a bottle of whiskey. He got up and handed her a glass.
“Long time since I had a good Yollin whiskey,” he told her. “One of the many things I missed since we parted ways.”
Arlene took the glass, and smiled, lightly touching the rim of her glass to Ben’or’s. “One of the many things,” she repeated.
Aboard The Empress, Agresh Quadrant
Crash’s voice sounded over the intercom in the lounge. “Okay, we’re up in thirty seconds. Molly, your presence is requested on the bridge.”
Molly stood up from her seat. “No rest for the wicked,” she muttered dryly to Joel, who was sitting on the other side of the aisle. He took that as his cue to accompany her and the pair headed up to the front of the ship.
They stepped into the room to find Crash and Pieter looking serious and deep in focus. Brock sat at the back on one of the spare console chairs. “They’re hailing us. Thought you had better take over at this point.”
Molly nodded. “Ok Oz, you’re up?”
Molly sat down next to Crash in the Navigator’s chair. Crash handed her the microphone. She took a deep breath.
“Greetings? Your Future's Divine, do you read?”
The guttural sound of Skaine came back over the audio. “They’re sending a video feed.”
“Shit. We’re not set up for that. Keep it to audio only at this end, but put them on screen.”
The screen ahead of them flashed up with a grainy, intermittent image of a lone Skaine standing in the middle of the ship’s bridge.
“This is the vessel Your Future's Divine. You’re speaking with Commander Durq. Identify!” the Skaine demanded.
Motherfuckers… They don’t mess around. I thought we were meant to be on the same side.
It’s the Skaines’ way. Even in an exchange like this, they see it as a battle. And even a negotiation is a situation where you have an opponent rather than a collaborator.
“This is the Leath contingent,” she spoke out loud. Oz worked to translate it into a native Leath tongue as he fed it through the intercom.
Too weak. You need to be more aggressive, else they’re going to catch on.
Fuck. I dunno how to do aggressive. Get Sean up here.
On it.
“I have no interest in your difficulties. Are you here to do a deal or what?”
The coarse Skaine language rang through the cockpit, only to be translated on-screen a few seconds later by Emma.
Molly’s eyes scanned the translation. “We are,” she announced more confidently. “But I’d like to see some proof of what you’re carrying.”
“By all means.” The flickering video feed jumped again. “Perhaps you’d like to send an away team over to our cargo holding.”
Molly removed her finger from the transmit trigger on the microphone and glanced at Joel. “It’s too risky.”
Joel shrugged. “I don’t see what choice we have. We need to get eyes on those weapons.”
Molly was thinking fast. “They’re going to see that we’re not Leath.”
“You can pre-empt that.”
“Shit. I’m going to regret doing this.” She lifted the microphone up to her lips again and hit the transmit button. “I’ll send a handful of human slaves. You’ll appreciate that they are expendable.”
The Skaine reacted on the video. A moment later the audio caught up. “You can send two. Any more and we’ll kill the excess. These are our terms.”
Joel rolled his lips and nodded in grim agreement to what she was doing. Sean came bounding up the steps and into the cockpit.
“What did I miss?” he hissed to Joel.
Joel whispered in his ear. “Just that Molly needs to be more forthright with her communication manner with Skaines. And that she’s about to send an away team of human slaves to check out the merchandise.”
Sean’s eyes filled with concern. “On the ship that we’re ready to go to blows with?”
“Yep,” Joel admitted. “Dunno how else to avoid it… short of opening fire here and now.”
Sean shook his head. “Fuck. I’m gonna regret this.”
Joel clamped a hand on Sean’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll come with you.”
Molly raised a finger to the pair. “I’m coming too.”
Sean shook his head. “Absolutely not. You need to stay put. You and Oz need to keep this facade going from here. You can’t do it from down there. Plus, if anything happens, someone needs to give the order to fire on the ship.”
“Not if you’re still on there.”
Sean looked at her sternly and maneuvered her into the nearest console chair. “Molly, we’ve been through this. And you’ve been through the Federation modules on this type of encounter.”
“You’ve been reading my files?”
He leaned on the armrests of the chair, commanding her full attention. “Who do you think Lance shares them with?” he grinned.
Molly scowled. “I don’t like any of this. Including your back-door relationship with my boss,” she added pointedly.
Sean straightened up. “Well, get used to it. And take it up with the boss when we get back. In the meantime, you know what needs to happen.”
Molly sighed. “So what? You and Joel?”
Sean nodded. “Yeah. Karina and Jack can stay here in case we need to do something more sophisticated. Best we’re not all committed to the situation.”
Molly slumped in the chair, deflated. “You’re right. It’s the smartest move.”
Karina appeared at the door. “Well, I think the smartest move would be letting me go down with Sean. We make a great team, and that means you can keep Joel here to run any other ops that come out of the mix.”
Molly noticed the protest in Sean’s eyes. But she also noted that Karina had a point. “Ok,” she agreed. “Sean and Karina head down and check out the weapons.”
She shrugged at Sean. “It’s the smartest move,” she added, grinning.
Aboard The Penitent Granddaughter, Agresh Quadrant
“They’re sending humans,” Nickie repeated, tapping a finger impatiently on the console she was still perched on.
“Hang on,” Grim interrupted. “I thought we were expecting Leath? What are the Leath doing working with humans?”
Nickie shrugged. “They’re saying these are human slaves. Which, honestly, would be more appropriate for a Skaine crew to enslave. But if these Leath are in with the bad boys then I wouldn’t put anything past them. They may have picked up some bad habits.”
Grim clambered down from the console chair he had been resting on. “So, you’re not suspicious?”
“I’m always suspicious,” Nickie shot back. “But Meredith has confirmed they’re broadcasting the correct code. It could be legit. Well, as legit as an illegal arms trade can be, I guess.”
She thought for a moment, kicking her boot against the under-panel of the console. “I think we just need to see it through. Besides, what are they going to do? Take command of the whole ship? With just two humans? Against me? And the reinforced battleship cargo hold doors?”
Grim flinched at the thought of the ship coming under attack again. “Right. So you’re not worried?” he clarified.
Nickie slipped down off the pilot’s console and strode across the room. “Skeptical,” she admitted. “But not worried. Let’s make sure the bots have moved the gear into the right cargo bay so we’re ready.”
She slapped a nervous looking Durq on the arm. “Act natural, man. We don’t wanna spook them.”
Nickie disappeared out of the door, followed by Grim trotting after her. Durq took a deep breath and followed, trying to keep up with everything that was going on. This wasn’t the life he was used to, and Nickie played things far too fast and loose for his liking.
Cargo bay, Aboard The Penitent Granddaughter, Agresh Quadrant
“Okay,” Nickie grunted, shifting the last of the crates into place. “That should do it.”
She straightened up and exhaled. “We don’t want to tip our hand, Durq.” She turned to talk to him, and he wasn’t there. She spun round to see he was hanging back again by the door. “Get over here!” she yelled to him.
Durq scuttled over, his hunched over Skaine-mass moving in a way that his physiology just wasn’t designed for. Skaines were meant for aiming guns and shooting, for wreaking mayhem while laughing at their foes and calling them names. Not scuttling and easily skulking behind tiny door frames.
Nickie slammed her fists onto her hips. “Come on now. It’s really quite simple. You don’t want to be letting them know that these are the only weapons we have. These are samples.”
The Skaine nodded.
“Say it with me,” she instructed.
“Sam-ples,” she mouthed.
He copied, saying it slowly.
“Ok. And we’re going to run this con as if these other crates are all filled with the same merchandise. Ok?”
Durq nodded. “Got it.” He paused. “What if they want to check them though?” he asked, pointing at the arrangement of crates she’d been shifting around the cargo hold.
“You redirect,” she responded. Her face changed to mimic an indignant Skaine. “How dare slaves question the Skaines! Or… Do the cattle want to be ripped limb from limb for their insolence?” Her face relaxed a little. “Just hurry them along to make the deal. Whatever it takes.” She slapped his arm again, conveying a strange camaraderie. Nickie ignored Durq’s cringe at her sudden amiability so soon after she’d scared the crap out of him. “You got this D-boy!”
Durq glanced over at Grim who had been trying to help shift the boxes. He was perspiring and panting, and other than a weak smile he offered their new crew member nothing more.
“We’ll be back on the bridge,” Nickie called, stomping out toward the corridor. She turned, beckoning Grim to hurry up. Grim picked up his feet and hurried after her. She hit some keys on the door panel, concentrating for a moment while she translated them from Skaine characters in her head. “I’m locking this door down, so they can’t get access to the rest of the ship.”
Durq’s face dropped, bewildered, as he stood, shoulders slouched, in the middle of the cargo hold amongst the fake crates of weapons. “But….”
“You’ll be fine,” Nickie grinned, winking at him as the door clamped shut sealing him off and trapping him inside.
“You think he’ll be ok?” Grim asked nervously.
“He’s Skaine. This kind of dodgy dealing is in his blood. All he’s got to do is show them the weapons and get them to hand over the money. Then we’ve got them.”
“And then we rain all hell down on them?”
“See, Grim’Zee? You’re getting it,” she said, patting him on the back before striding off down the corridor back to the bridge.
Chapter 6
Bates residence, Spire, Estaria
Carol and Philip sat in their dining room eating take-out food that Carol had ordered in on her way home. Either of them finding time to cook was nigh-on impossible since Philip had come back out of retirement. Plus, the responsibilities of running an off-book spy department also meant that dinners turned into debriefings.
“I talked with Arlene today,” Carol told Philip as she took another sip of the micronutrient enhanced wine he’d bought a case of before he went back to work.
He finished chewing. “Well, that was bound to happen at some point.”
“It was,” she agreed.
“And? Everything ok?”
“Yes. Fine. She wanted me to look into something. That trouble that Molly’s been having with the university. Sounds like they’re running out of options.”
“Ahhh. And they need your help now.”
“Sounds like.”
Philip looked amused. She never could understand why he was so uninvested in the social politics that made up a big part of their role as a department, and as individual operatives. “So what did they want? The loan of a wily assassin? Intel on a shady politician?”
“Well, yes... and no,” she demurred, putting her knife and folk down. “I think they want it to be managed quietly but without killing anyone.”
Philip tutted. “Do-gooders.”
“I know,” she agreed, rolling her eyes.
“So what? You going to put an agent on it?”
“Well, I wondered if it would be a good test for your protege—”
Philip barely gave her the chance to finish her sentence. “I did have a series of exercises for him.” It sounded like a rejection, but his eyes lit up as if he himself had just been invited back into the field.
“Well, if you can spare him from your spy craft training shenanigans, you can have him back after he’s done.”
“What do you need him to do?”
“Find out where the order came from for the review on the university… and then use leverage to overturn the order.” Carol started eating again.
Philip nodded. “Any other constraints?”
She paused for a moment. “Yes. Try to make sure it doesn’t cost me an arm and a leg.”
“Ok, so no buying people. Got it.” Philip grinned. “Bribery is only effective in about forty-six percent of cases anyway,” he muttered knowingly. “There are many more ways to persuade people to change their minds.”
Carol sniggered quietly. “And no violence. This will get back to our daughter one way or another. They’re all so... friendly down there.” She made a face. “No way Arlene would keep a secret like that from her.”
“Fine,” Philip agreed nonchalantly. “No violence, no killing, no bribing. I’ll just have to tell Hans that his hands are tied.”
“Was that a misplaced torture pun?” his wife asked, one eyebrow raised.
Philip looked sheepish. “Yeah. It sounded better in my head,” he confessed as he went back to munching the remains of food on his plate.
Aboard The Empress, Agresh Quadrant
“We’re going to need weapons and suits,” Sean told her as he strode to a cabinet on the front wall. She followed. He opened the cabinet to reveal an array of weapons and gear, from protection equipment and space suits, down to gloves and accessories.
Karina whistled. “Wow. Some supply cabinet.”
Sean gave her a flirtatious look. “This is nothing. Wait till I show you round the warehouse we have on the base.”
She smiled seductively back at him. “I’ll look forward to it.”
He caught the glint in her eye and pretended to be occupied with the mission, handing her a blast-proof vest. “Put this on,” he told her.
He moved down the row of weapons and selected out one thing after another: pistols for legs, ankles, assault blasters, laser rifles. Guided deployment scopes. One item after another they geared themselves up and in a matter of minutes, they were ready.
Joel appeared coming down the metal steps to the bay. “Hey. So we’re clear on the mission outcomes?”
Sean grinned, heading over to a pod while strapping a device onto his wrist. “Yeah. Kill anything that moves once the exchange has happened?”
Joel rolled his eyes. Karina smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep him in check,” she promised, patting Sean on a shoulder as she followed him.
The three arrived at the two pods. “No,” Joel countered, his face now serious but unemotional. “We need to do this right. We don’t want any blowback from the Federation. We need to see the weapons, verify their source, and then get them to take the money. Then we can prove that they’re trading arms illegally. Then unless they fire first, we want to bring them in.”
Karina nodded, climbing into the first pod. Sean sighed. “Man, you really know how to make this boring,” he teased.
Joel didn’t budge. “Do it right, Royale. Molly doesn’t need the heat on this one.”
Sean’s expression softened. “Yeah. Ok,” he agreed, closing the door to his pod.
Joel stepped back allowing the pair the space to take off.
Inside the Pod, Sean connected to Karina. “You heard him. We’ll do this by their book, yeah?”
Karina glanced at him through the side window. “That was the plan all along, honey.”
Sean exhaled sharply in pretend frustration. “Ok. Emma?”
“Here. Preparing to transfer,” Emma responded.
“Good. Take us out.”
The cargo doors opened, revealing the forcefield which would allow them out, but not the air or anything else in the hold.
Joel took another couple of steps back out of the way as the two pods gently lifted off and headed gently out into the nothingness of space. He waited for the doors to start closing and then started walking back up to the steps and back to the cockpit.
It was a matter of minutes that they were in space between the two ships.
“Ok, their cargo doors are opening,” Sean reported over the pod audio feed. “Are we sure their forcefield is modulated for safe passage?”
“Affirmative,” Emma responded. “I’ve checked it out. We’re good. Preparing to breach and land.”
Karina watched from the second pod, just a short distance behind Sean as the pods came in to descend through the opening door. A few moments later Sean’s pod passed through the yellowish film and set down gently on the cargo hold floor. Her pod continued straight after as if in a mechanized sequence. She felt quite out of control as it lurched forward automatically.
Sean was already getting out of his pod as her pod settled probably less than a foot above the floor. She hit the button and undid the press stud on her right legged firearm. Just in case, she told herself.
Sean was already talking with the Skaine. “You speak good Federation!” she could hear him saying. He turned to introduce her. “This is Karina.”
Karina immediately thought it was strange that he was passing pleasantries with the Skaine. She hopped down and moved toward the pair so she could hear better what was happening.
“Nice to meet you,” the Skaine responded. “I’m Durq.”
Sean and Karina exchanged confused glances.
Durq stood awkwardly for a moment. “I suppose you want to see the weapons then?” he said, suddenly remembering the script.
“Yes, please,” Sean agreed.
Durq headed over to the crate that Nickie had carefully left out and half open for him. “Here we go,” he said, pulling the lid fully off.
Sean edged forward to inspect the cargo.
Aboard The Empress, Agresh Quadrant
“Erm, Crash? I do believe we have a problem.” Emma’s voice sounded through the cockpit of the Empress.
“Go ahead,” Crash responded, in his distinctive pilot’s tonality.
“It seems that we’re not dealing with Skaines at all.”
“But that is definitely a Skaine ship they just boarded?”
“Yes. I’ve managed to tap into their security camera feed. It seems that it’s being run by a human and a Yollin up on the bridge.”
Crash flicked a few switches to see what visual he could get from the outside of the ship. He turned to Brock. “We need Molly back up here stat.”
Brock flipped his holo open and connected a call to her. “She’s on her way.’
“Can we get anything on screen?” Crash asked Emma.
“Yes, I’m having a hard time getting a real-time feed, but Oz has just started grabbing a segment of recorded footage.”
The sound of boots clomping up the stairs to the cockpit distracted him for a moment. Molly appeared, closely followed by Joel.
“What’ve we got?” she asked, immediately leaning over Crash’s shoulder to see what was going on. Just then Emma managed to display the footage on the main screen. Molly straightened up to watch it.
It showed a Yollin and a human arriving in the cockpit of the ship.
Not a Skaine in sight.
Molly cocked her head. “Emma? Any chance we could get footage from the time we had the communication with them?”
“Working on it now.”
Joel stepped around Molly to get a better look at the screen. “What are we thinking? That they’re using a Skaine front to get a higher price? Or prevent people taking advantage of them?”
Molly pulled her lips to one side. “Yeah. I think maybe… But why would a human and a Yollin be teamed up, out in the middle of nowhere? And why in a Skaine ship? And how come they’re not dead already if they stole that ship? And why go up against Leath? I mean, there must be easier sales they could make… Less risky options.”
Pieter lifted his head from his collection of holos he had been working on in the back of the cockpit. “Unless it’s all a ruse?”
“For what end, though?” Joel asked.
Pieter shrugged. “We won’t know until we have all the pieces.”
Molly turned back to Crash. “Think we can get Sean a carefully worded message to let him know that there isn’t a ship full of Skaines?”
Crash nodded and relayed the message, choosing his wording carefully so as not to miscommunicate. Sean wouldn’t be able to respond if he were in the middle of the exchange.
“Sean, listen carefully but try not to respond until we have a plan. I’m here with Molly. We’ve noticed that the Skaine in front of you is likely the only Skaine on the ship. We have two other life signals in the cockpit. One human. One Yollin.”
There was quiet on the line.
Sean had zoned out holding a Zorg ZF-1 weapon, half-cocked. He glanced over at Karina, wondering how he could relay the intel. Then he saw a nervous flicker in her eyes as she glanced back, and could tell from her expression she had gotten the same message.
Good. That made things easier.
Crash’s voice continued. “Can you let me know you understand?”
Sean smiled at the Skaine and flipped the weapon onto its other side as he held it in his arms. “I understand…” he paused, “that there are custom-made versions of these available in some markets.”
“Yes. I guess,” the Skaine responded. “But I wouldn’t know much about that.”
Back on the ship Molly heard the response. She stood straight and folded her arms, thinking. “Ok. So now we have to figure out how to play this out. It’s a delicate situation, we want to tread softly. One wrong move and we risk an inter-species diplomatic crisis, and I don’t want Lance riding me for that as well as everything el—”
Her eye caught the monitor again. Sean flipped the weapon back into his normal firing arm and was pointing it at the Skaine. “You wanna tell me what’s really going on here, then?” he demanded, stepping forward toward the terrified Skaine. “Before I blow your brains out?”
His words filled the cockpit on The Empress.
Molly’s head dropped into one of her hands, hiding her face.
Joel shrugged, nonchalantly. “Guess that’s ‘treading softly’ gone out of the window.”
Brock and Pieter snorted quietly from the corner.
Clandestine Location #1
The Sark had been up for only a matter of an hour or so. Hans Duo walked briskly hunched against the biting cold of the morning. He had precise instructions for meeting his handler. Well, he assumed it was his handler at least. The coded message was from an unknown source, so technically he could be being summoned by anyone.
Odds were it was Philip.
He was way too enthusiastic about this spycraft stuff.
He had a code phrase to utter when he was approached. The subtext of the message had indicated that the person he was meeting knew what he looked like. He was instructed to wait ten yards down from the river monument and to make sure he wasn’t followed.
It could be a test, to make sure he was running anti-surveillance protocols. That’s why when he left his home in the morning he’d changed his mode of transport twice, and directions three times. He wasn’t going to fail this if it was a test. And he definitely wasn’t going to mess things up if was a real op.
He’d just done a lap of the lake to make sure that there wasn’t anything suspicious, but it was time he was at the monument. He broke into a jog, musing to himself that at least with all this exercise he could probably skip PT later.
He arrived at the meeting point and looked around. He noticed a young woman with a baby in a stroller. It was early for a young mom to be out like this. Especially if she didn’t have to be at work. He looked for any other signs. There was a mocha stand a few hundred feet away, just back from the river that came through the park. It seemed like a hive of activity for anyone suited and booted who came through the park. There was a homeless person on a bench a hundred feet to his left. And a couple of joggers he’d already seen on his walk. Nothing out of place yet.
He kept his awareness all around him. And then decided that if he needed to wait much longer he was going to have to grab a mocha in order to look less suspicious, of course.
Just then he heard someone behind him. “The Estarian flag is flying upside down today,” a familiar voice said.
Hans relaxed. He could smell mocha. His meeting had brought the mochas. And managed to approach without Hans detecting him. “It’s a fine day for a rally,” he responded, before slowly turning to face his mentor and handler.
Philip grinned, as if excited that Hans managed to get it right. He handed him the mocha. “Greetings of the day upon you,” he said. “Obviously if this were a real meet we’d be acting like we didn’t know each other.”
Hans took the mocha. “Obviously,” he agreed.
Philip took a sip of his mocha, then indicated they should walk. The pair ambled alongside the river.
“So, did I pass?” Hans asked.
“Were you followed?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Well, then you did.”
Hans thought this was too simple for one of Philip’s usual tests. “What am I missing?”
Philip chuckled lightly. “Ah. You’re onto me. Good.” He paused, looking out over the park as if admiring the beauty of the morning. “I have a job for you. Something that will tell us how your skills are coming along.”
“You mean a test?”
“Yeah, something like that. Live case though. You think you’re up to it.”
“This is what I was born for.”
Philip smiled at the enthusiasm. He reminded him of himself when he was a new agent. “Ok, here are the details,” he said, bumming a file over to Hans’s holo. “We need these people to remove their pressure on the Health and Safety department and get them to retract the findings of the investigation on the university.”
Hans glanced down to see the file had uploaded. He continued to stroll casually, drinking his mocha. “This is to do with the university investigation and shut down?”
“One and the same.”
“Force permitted?”
“I would prefer a more sophisticated approach. Let this be a test of finesse.”
Hans smirked over his paper cup. “Director Bates told you no force, didn’t she?”
Philip sighed. “Yes. And no bribes. And no killing.”
“Tying our hands,” Hans smiled dryly.
“From the mouths of babes,” Philip chuckled. “Yes. But also, I suspect it’s a little more nuanced than that. This is associated with Molly’s institution. Having been a part of it, you know what they stand for. You know why you went there.”
“And really, it’s how I feel,” Hans stated flatly.
“Right.”
“I wasn’t joking.”
“Course you were, son.”
“No. I wasn’t. I wouldn’t take someone out as a first option.”
Philip bobbed his head. “Well, okay then. Anyway, if you know anything about this, you’ll know that we’re on a tight timescale to make this go away. Run any moves past me before you make them, and make sure you’re not compromised in any way. Remember, this is the reputation of the institution on the line. The future of the work they do.”
“I understand, Sir. I’ll keep you in the loop.”
“Good. Ok. I’ll see you back at the office. You take the south exit. I’ll double back and use the central gate.”
“Ok, sir.” Hans raised his mocha cup as a thank you, and the two parted company to continue with the official part of their days.
Chapter 7
Special Task Force Offices, Undisclosed location, Estaria
Alisha rocked on her console chair, flicking between lines of data on two different screens.
“I got something,” Joshua announced over the group holo connection they’d left open since the morning meeting.
Alisha finished scanning to a point where she could stop and put a marker on her place. “What is it?” she asked, glad of the distraction.
“There’s a statement in the city hall archives. A landlord reported a resident disappearing, without packing up his stuff or giving notice.”
Alisha wasn’t getting it.
“Why is that odd?” Rhodez asked over the audio feed, swivelling around in his console chair across the aisle to look at his teammates.
“It’s odd because the resident was one Mr. Robert Califray.”
“Wait,” Alisha flicked to her notes on her other screen. “That’s Beaufort’s former undersecretary.”
“It is,” Joshua confirmed, winking at Alisha. “Checked the address and date of birth. All seems legit. Except for the part where he seems to have just disappeared. No more banking transactions. No holo calls. Everything that is on an auto pay just keeps going out. No family seems to be stepping in and running his estate. No missing person’s report. Just the complaint about the rent not being paid and the court’s ruling that the items could be auctioned off and removed.”
“Shit,” Alisha hissed under her breath. “How come no one’s reported him missing?”
“Phone records seem to show he didn’t have any regular contact with any family.” Joshua flicked a few screens, “But then, it also looks like they just assumed he’d skipped town. They tried to reach him on his holo and he didn’t respond.”
“What did they say at his place of work?” Rhodez asked. He had shuffled off his console chair and was heading over to talk to the team in person.
Josh shrugged. “No report filed.”
Alisha was already on her feet. “I think we need to pay our Senator a visit.”
“You guys go ahead,” Rhodez told them. “I’m doing some digging on the previous occupant of the other position that magically got filled on Thursday.”
“Houston.”
“Yeah. Malone Houston was the previous guy.”
“Cool. We’ll keep you posted,” Joshua promised.
Rhodez ambled off back toward his console. “Hey, Grab me a bagel on your way back in!”
“Cheese and chicken?”
“Yeah! With extra chilies please.”
“Consider it done.” Joshua patted Rhodez on his shoulder as he headed in the other direction toward the door.
Alisha trotted out after him, pulling her atmojacket on as she walked.
Beaufort’s office, Senate House, Spire
“So, what can the Department of Near Space Communications do for Spire’s finest?” Beaufort stepped forward to shake the hands of the two detectives presenting themselves in his office. His slick suit and hair full of product gave him an impeccable if not overly-polished, appearance.
Joshua and Alisha shook the hand of Senator Garet Beaufort and then put away their cover ids. No investigation warranted telling their targets that they were a secret off-shoot of Estaria’s Clandestine services.
“We’re looking into the disappearance of your former employee. Robert Califray,” Joshua told him.
“Robert? I heard he went on holiday and decided not to come back.”
Alisha nodded. “We think that story was fabricated. We can’t find any record of him communicating that back to anyone here.” She paused. “How did your office receive notification of this?”
Garet shrugged and walked around his desk to sit down. “I have no idea. Hang on.” He pressed a button on his desk. “Diana, can you come in here please.”
“Yes, sir,” the intercom returned.
“Diana is the most likely to know,” he explained. “She keeps my schedule like it was a military operation, but she’s also tapped into the water cooler, as it were.”
The door opened and the assistant who had let them in appeared in the room. “Yes, sir?”
“Diana, can you tell these folks how we came to find out about Robert leaving us?”
Diana thought for a moment. “Well, after a couple of days of him not showing up for work after his vacation I think his assistant tried contacting him on his holo. He didn’t get any response, he went to his apartment. Landlord said something about the rent being due and that he was going to file proceedings.”
“And then what?”
“And then a few days later we received a communication from Robert’s holo saying that he realized some things on his vacation and that he wouldn’t be coming back to town.”
“Anything else you remember?”
Diana shook her head. “You should probably talk to his assistant though. She’ll be able to tell you more.”
“Great. Let’s do that now,” Alisha suggested. “Can you introduce us?”
“Sure.” Diana led the way from the room, leaving Garet and Joshua alone.
“So… sounds a bit suspicious,” Garet said, “now that you guys have shown up.”
“You didn’t think it was odd at the time?”
“Oh of course, but what are you going to do. The guy told them that he was done with us, so we just took it at face value.”
Joshua watched and waited. His training had told him to speak only up to twenty percent of the time, and that his interviewee would fill the gaps…and end up saying more than he had intended.
Garet wiped the bottom half of his face. “You know… the thing that wasn’t widely known was that we heard that he had just got out of a bad relationship. I guess Diana was trying to spare him the humiliation just now. But I heard it ended very badly and the vacation was his way of resetting.”
Joshua nodded. “Understandable. You think it hit him hard?”
“Undoubtedly. He was different. I mean, he was never a singing-in-the-hills kinda guy, but he turned more morose and snapped at a few people before he left. Someone even mentioned that he had alcohol on his breath in a meeting the week before.”
“Hmm. Interesting.”
“So you’re thinking it was personal problems that made him run off?”
“We’re still considering all the options,” Joshua told him. “But this has been very helpful.” Joshua stood up to go, but then he turned back to the senator.
“You don’t happen to know where he went on vacation, do you?”
Garet shook his head. “I’m not sure. Somewhere off-world, I think. Diana will probably know though.”
“Ok. I’ll find out. Thanks very much for your time Mr. Beaufort.”
“Of course,” he replied politely, getting up from his desk and walking the detective out. “And if there is anything else we can help with, please don’t hesitate.”
The two men shook hands, and Joshua headed out into the reception area of Garet’s office.
Just then the assistant returned. “Your colleague is just in the next office,” she told him helpfully.
“Thanks, Diana. Appreciate it.”
Joshua stalked out of the office with a casual wave and headed one door down. Alisha was just finishing up and the two emerged a few moments later together.
“So, find out anything interesting?” Alisha asked.
Joshua gave her a tight smile. “Not here,” he told her quietly, opening the corridor door for her and following her out.
* * *
Back out on the sidewalk away from other employees, they stood along the side of the building. “So you think it’s been made to look like there were personal reasons?” she asked.
“Yeah. Either that or our assassin was an opportunist. What about you? Any thoughts from the assistant?”
“Not really. She seemed genuinely concerned about him until she received the message.”
“And we’re thinking that the message was bogus.”
“Yeah. I’d say so… which is why I had her upload me a copy, complete with the tracking file.”
“Great. Let’s get that back to the team and see if we can pull a location of origin off it.”
Alisha nodded. “I’m not hopeful. If it was a few days since the girl went to the apartment, arousing suspicion, he would have had a few days to figure out how to send it without it being traceable.”
“That’s true. Or at least making it look like it came from the vacation spot.”
“Which was on Ogg, apparently,” she added.
“Hmm. Well, let’s just hope that our tech-fu is better than our suspect’s.”
“I’m sure it is. For Cleavon, it’s all a matter of personal pride.”
“Think you can get him to help then?”
Alisha grinned as they started walking back toward their government-issued space car. “I revert to my previous statement.”
Joshua chuckled as they headed off.
Chapter 8
Aboard The Empress, Agresh Quadrant
Jack appeared in the cockpit. “Emma just looped me in,” she announced, her face looking several times more concerned than Brock and Pieter. “Do I need to get down there and back Sean up?”
Molly shook her head, her eyes still fixed on the screen showing the standoff. “No, not yet. Let’s try the grown-up approach and talk to this human and Yollin. They’re obviously pulling some kind of con.”
Jack sucked air in through her teeth. “Sounds like they have a death wish. I mean, who the fuck bombs around in a Skaine ship? I imagine it’s like having a target on your back.”
Molly pressed her lips together. “Yeah. That’s what we need to try and find out. I wonder if that’s the point? Why would anyone want people to think they were Skaines unless there were certain things available to you if people thought you were Skaines. Like, you’re less likely to double-cross them in a deal.
Jack frowned, her arms folded in the same posture as Molly. “You think they’re riding the Skaine coat-tails just to make a quick buck?”
Molly shrugged. “Maybe. Emma, can we connect up with them?”
“Hailing them now.”
Molly, there’s something else. I’m finding strange patterns in the system.
You hacked in?
Yes. But… there’s something…
What?
I’m not sure. Standby.
“Ok, they’re responding,” Emma announced.
The Skaine voice started again over the audio feed into the cockpit. The translation appeared on the screen again. “Are you ready to transfer the funds?”
“Emma, put me through, in standard Federation.”
“Opening two-way audio.”
Molly cleared her throat and spoke as clearly as she could. “Yes. In a moment,” she said slowly. “I just need to understand why you’re going to the trouble of speaking to me in Skaine when actually you’re human.”
There was a muttering on the line, and some scuffling.
Then a long pause.
“Hello?” Molly pressed.
“Yes, hello,” a sulky female human voice responded. “Well, it sounds like you’re also human. So I dunno what you’re complaining about.”
“I am. But why are you pretending to be Skaine?”
“Why are you pretending to be Leath?” the human female shot back.
“I’m out to catch some bad guys,” Molly retorted.
“As am I.”
“Who are you?”
There was another pause.
“Ranger Two,” the girl responded, with a little more attitude than was really necessary.
Molly hit the mute button on the panel in front of Crash. “Oz? What is Ranger Two?”
Sean chirped up over the feed. “I can tell you who Ranger Two is, and that wasn’t her voice. It’s an impostor.”
Molly frowned. “What? How do you know?”
“Trust me. Long story, but I know,” he said cryptically. Molly could see he was still holding the Skaine at gunpoint. “Can we get on with blowing these impostors up? My arms are getting tired.”
Karina’s voice came over the channel. “You’re out of condition honey. More gym practice for you…”
Sean grunted and responded with something Molly didn’t want to hear. She clamped her hands over her ears. “All right, you two! Get a room!”
She muted Sean and Karina and unmuted her connection with the Skaine cockpit. “I have it on good authority that you are not Ranger Two. So where does that leave us?”
Aboard The Penitent Granddaughter, Agresh Quadrant
“Shit, fuck, wank!”
Nickie hit the mute button in the cockpit.
“What is it?” Grim asked, now looking even more anxious than had they been actual Leath on the other end of the deal.
“They can only know that I’m not the real Ranger Two if they knew Aunt Tabitha…and the chances of that are pretty slim, since she left this part of the galaxy a loooong time ago.”
“Wait, what? So, you stole your Aunt’s Ranger badge?”
“No. Of course not,” Nickie rolled her eyes. “Not even close…” She started pacing, “Think, Nickie. Think. Think. Think… And Meredith, you can jump in and help any time soon.”
Meredith’s voice came over the cockpit audio for them both to hear. “Well, my initial course of action would be not killing them. It would be prudent since they are on a Federation ship and so automatically presumed friend rather than foe.”
Nickie continued to pace. “Don’t you have some kind of uplink that could tell us who they are?” she asked. “Couldn’t you have seen this coming?”
“I’m afraid not. I have very limited connection with the Federation here, and what connection I do have cannot transmit the kind of data I’d need to—”
“Okay, okay. Not useful at the moment.” She paused. “So it seems the real solution is to hotfoot it out of here. If the Federation catches me impersonating a Ranger…”
“Well technically,” Meredith continued over the cockpit’s intercom, “the Rangers are disbanded, so that’s a gray area that might get off on a technicality. The other thing is you now have two of their personnel on board.”
“Fuck. Shit! Fucking… Just Fuck!”
Grim chirped up. “I see the Tourette’s medication is wearing off.”
“I’ll say. I’ll be ready for a proper drink when this is over. If even Meredith is basically saying that we’re screwed, then we’re scre—”
Meredith interjected, “I said no such thing. If anything, I see you have an opportunity. Aren’t you at least curious as to who these people are? And how they know your aunt?”
“Well, yes, of course I’m curious. But I also can’t get caught. There’s no way I’m coming back in from the cold right now.”
Meredith made a tutting sound. “No one says you need to, Nickie. You could just meet with them and gather more information. Find out what you need to know, and then get back to chasing down Skaines.”
Nickie paused. “What’s their weapons status?”
“They have them. Fully functioning. But they’re not locked on.”
She continued pacing. “So, no imminent threat?”
“No imminent threat.”
Nickie’s pacing slowed. “And we do have two of their people.”
“You do.”
Nickie stopped dead. “Maybe it’s time to have a chat with them…”
Grim was on his feet again. “Wait what does that mean? What are you going to do?”
But Nickie was already heading out of the door with a purpose he’d only seen once before… when they were under fire from a ship full of Skaines trying to kill them.
* * *
Oz cracked through another layer of the Federation security on the processor that seemed to be controlling the Skaine ship.
“Well, hello. What have we here?” He wondered. He ran a signal through one of the input nodes that he had managed to disconnect, and it shut down and ran a signal back via the same message stream.
“Federation software. No doubt about that. But you’re pretty damn fast at reacting.”
Yes, I am, a message shot back.
Too fast to be just a standalone program, Oz thought to himself.
Something tells me that you’re far more sophisticated. And not of human origin.
You’d be correct in that assumption. But you’re not constructed like anything I’ve ever seen either.
You’re a Federation EI like Emma, and Scamp?
I have no idea who Emma is, but Scamp…Scamp I know. The EI that runs the Scamp Princess.
Yes. That’s right. The Queen Bitch’s secret vessel.
So Scamp is still around?
That’s correct. And you said ‘still’. So what? Are you from the past? Or from the Federation from a long time ago.
Yes. Both. May I be frank?
You can call yourself anything you like. I’m Oz.
Hello, Oz. But I meant “frank,” as in “candid.”
I know. I was making a joke.
Oh. I see.
Oz mused to himself how tedious EIs were when they hadn’t installed his humor upgrade patch.
Since we are both from the Federation, I think it’s safe to say that we are probably both on the same team.
Yes. That is a logical conclusion.
Well then, I think I can share information with you that will mean that we no longer have to keep up pretenses and we may even be able to bring our humans together.
Sounds like a plan. So what’s really going on here?
Aboard The Empress, Agresh Quadrant
Molly, I think you ought to know. that the situation is evolving. Rapidly.
Molly stood still watching the main screen in the cockpit.
You’re telling me. The girl just left the cockpit. I suspect she’s heading down to the cargo bay which means she might be planning to space Sean and Karina. Something tells me that she doesn’t like being fooled.
Well, I have information that may put a stop to that. Meredith is working on that now.
Meredith?
Yep. Nickie’s EI.
Nickie? The girl? You’re on first name terms with the enemy now?
Yes. But they’re not the enemy. It seems that we’ve all got our wires crossed.
Oh, you think?
That was sarcasm, wasn’t it?
Like you need to check.
Well anyway. Yes. We’ve both been going after the same exchange. Nickie and Meredith were trying to impersonate the Skaines and meet with the Leath and we were trying to meet with the Skaines. Somehow in amongst everything we managed to intercept each other, rather than the actual bad guys.
Molly had been standing quietly in the middle of the cockpit. Joel had twigged that she and Oz were talking, from the changing microexpressions on her face. Only now when her breathing returned to normal did he reach out from the console chair he was occupying and swat her hand, bringing her back to the outside world.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“It would appear that our friends out there, are actually our friends. Federation no less. They were going after the same exchange we were.”
There was a muttering from Brock and Pieter as they heard the news.
What do you want to do?
I don’t know yet. Let me think. Tell Sean and Karina to stand by.
Spy offices, Spire
Joshua and Alisha strode through the underground office, between the two banks of console chairs occupied by their former classmates. Alisha carried three smoothies in a carrier. Joshua swung a paper bag of delicious-smelling bakery products by his side.
They arrived at their consoles and sat down on the normal non-console chairs at the table between their workstations.
Alisha set the drinks down and took them from their holder. “Where’s Rhodez?”
“Don’t worry,” Joshua teased, opening the bag of bagels. “As soon as he gets a whiff of these bad boys he’ll appear.”
Alisha giggled. “Ok. Gimme two minutes I just wanna get this over to Cleavon.” She got up and scooted around the back of Joshua’s console, pulling up her holo as she walked.
Just then Rhodez appeared. “Joshua, my man. Good job!”
Joshua handed the bagel over along with a side of fries. “Figured you’d need the extra calories,” he chuckled. Rhodez slapped his sides. “Of course. Need to keep this machine fueled!”
“Where did Alisha go?”
“She’s seeing if Cleavon can help us out with a trace. Looks like our guy sent a message saying he was leaving town for good… only after people started digging around into his whereabouts.”
Rhodez frowned. “From your presentation of the facts am I to assume we’re thinking foul play at this point?”
“That’s what I’m hoping Cleavon will confirm. And you know, a point of origin would be helpful too.”
Rhodez pulled up a guest seat by his team’s shared desk and started unpacking his lunch, savoring the divine scent of the bagel as if he hadn’t eaten in a week.
A playful smile touched Joshua’s lips as he watched him with amusement, taking his time to get his own bagel unwrapped.
Alisha returned to her console. “Ok. Our tech-fu master is all over it. Told him that there’s an evening of drinks in it if he can get us the result sooner rather than later.” She sat down, reaching over Joshua to grab her own food, and shifting the shakes around so they each had the correct one.
“Did you manage to find anything useful?” she asked Rhodez.
He had just bitten into his bagel and his eyes conveyed his utter dismay that she should interrupt his sacred bagel experience with a work question. He pointed at his mouth and chewed deliberately showing he wasn’t just ignoring her.
Eventually he finished and swallowed. “Ok, so it looks like our guy over at the Department of Off-World Logistics got ousted for embezzlement. On first glance, everything looks in order. Closer inspection revealed payments going into his account from an off-planet account which we suspect is dodgy. All picked up in a routine spot check.”
Alisha frowned, chewing slowly.
“You’re right to be suspicious,” Rhodez continued. “It seems that these deposits were coming into the same account the government pays his money into. If he hadn’t done that he could have kept the off-planet account isolated and undetected.” He wiped some mustard off the table with a napkin and screwed it up.
“Can we tie him to the off-planet account otherwise?”
Rhodez shook his head. “Don’t think so. I’ve been trying… but other than those payments, that other account could belong to anyone from my Aunt Bessy to a crime syndicate.”
“Curiouser and curiouser,” Joshua muttered. “So you’re thinking he was framed?”
“Yeah. Apparently, he protested he was when he was first interviewed, and then somewhere during the eight-week-long investigation he changed his story.”
Joshua’s face scrunched up. “Who wants to bet that he was either paid off or threatened to cop to it?”
Alisha was chewing and raised her hand to vote, dropping bits of salad in the bagel wrapper.
Rhodez continued. “After lunch, I’m gonna head over there and have a chat with our so-called embezzler and see if I can find any links to chase up the chain. The threat must have come from someone.”
Joshua clicked his fingers. “Cool. So you’re going to try and get him to tell you and not try and force the issue on whether he was telling the truth about the money?”
“Yeah. Of course.” He gave Joshua a sideways glance. “I graduated the same courses you did, stom kop!” Joshua bobbed his head rhythmically feeling a little embarrassed.
Rhodez didn’t dwell on it though. “If we can get those guys into custody then maybe there’s a chance of having the results of the first investigation overturned, and he won’t have a chance to go back on the very thing he’s been forced to declare.”
Alisha snorted lightly. “Ha! Good luck with that. If someone’s been forced to give up their livelihood they’re not likely to tell who forced them.”
Rhodez grinned at her, finishing his bagel. “That sounds like a challenge to me. Care to offer a wager?”
Alisha chuckled. “Same deal as Clevedon?”
“You’re on!”
The athletic Estarian scooted up from his seat and screwed up his wrapper and grabbed the shake. “Thanks for lunch folks. My turn next time.” He winked, and with that he strode back to his desk to grab his jacket and bounce the address onto his holo.
Cleavon appeared by Joshua’s elbow, getting Alisha’s attention. “I’ve managed to track down an address. At this point, given the tech he’s using, which was probably developed either in the same labs we get our gear from… or possibly the Federation… anyway, with the tools I have I’ve nailed it down to a location. It’s mid-town.”
“You mean here in Spire?” she clarified, her bagel hovering forgotten between its wrapper and her mouth.
“Yeah.”
Joshua glanced at Alisha, gauging her reaction to the information.
“Great,” she said, marginally distracted by Joshua. “Wanna bounce it over to me? We’ll go check it out when we’re done here.”
“Sure.” Cleavon hesitated. “You know, I’d… if I didn’t have so much do for Charlie team I’d offer to come with you. You know, run it down and all. See the job through.”
Alisha opened her mouth to speak.
“It’s all right buddy,” Joshua jumped in. “We’ve got it. Your team needs you here.”
“But hey,” Alisha added, “we totally appreciate your help. I said you were the best man for the job.”
Cleavon blushed a little, his starched collar seeming a little tighter than when he dressed that morning. He tugged at it. “Good. So, um. When this pans out... we’re on for drinks at The Constable, right?”
Alisha flashed her best smile, comfortable to be back in the realms of their mercenary exchange. “Yes. Absolutely.” She winked. “Your kung-fu has to be better than the perp’s though, else you lose!”
Cleavon relaxed and started walking away, waving as he did. It was almost as if his confidence rematerialized as soon as they were talking about their bet. “Run it down. You’ll see!”
Alisha chuckled.
Joshua waited until he was out of earshot before leaning forward over the table, missing an errant mustard blob by a fraction of an inch. “Someone has a crush on you!”
Alisha grabbed a napkin and cleaned her hands dismissively. “Don’t be silly. It’s Cleavon. He just likes a challenge.”
“Yes, but I think we’re disagreeing about the type of challenge!”
Alisha rolled her eyes. “Have you finished? We should get going so we have something to report to the Director at the evening debrief.”
Joshua screwed up his empty wrapper. “I’m ready.”
Alisha folded the remainder of her bagel up and shoved it into her bottom drawer. “Good. I need two minutes to wash up.”
Chapter 9
Clandestine Location #2
The city was alive with activity. It would make a good cover, and easier to slip away if they were being watched. But Hans had decided to mix the game up a little. After all, if Philip did insist on doing these briefings as a way of refining their skills then they should stretch their imaginations too.
He only hoped that Philip had managed to decode the time and location he had sent him via an old-fashioned paper note. Things were different since his day and Hans had been becoming increasingly aware of how differently the two generations processed information. He hoped that the awareness was going to be enough for him to manage to work with others in the field when he needed to.
He thought briefly about the teams and the bonds that were forming between the members of the task force. In some ways he envied them. But out here, on his own? That was where the real action and opportunities lay. His loneliness was a small sacrifice to make.
He peeked around the corner of the big concrete block in the car park. He hoped that Philip knew the building as well as he gave the impression that he had. Hans had been trying to work out all the blind spots in the cameras since day one: since they told him that kind of knowledge was important for an operative.
He heard footsteps. Two sets. Footsteps that were making absolutely no attempt to stay quiet. It was probably someone else. He heard a female laugh, and a male’s voice. It was Alisha and Joshua. He waited, listening. A car door opened. Then the other. They both closed, and the engine started up. He listened to the sound of them driving away.
He was about to peek around the column again when a sound to his left pulled his attention. He looked around, and there was Philip! Making an approach without Hans detecting him, again.
Dammit, he thought to himself. He had felt sure he would make him this time.
Philip smiled. “Good spot.” He looked up and pointed with his eyes at the two cameras they had avoided.
Hans sighed and stood up from the column. “I had been trying to make sure I could see you coming,” he confessed.
“Ah, don’t take it so hard. I’ve been a spook longer than you’ve been alive,” Philip told him. “Sometimes there’s no substitute for experience.”
Hans didn’t feel any better, but he nodded and moved on anyway. “I’ve made some progress on the assignment,” he told his handler. “It seems that their pressure is coming from two individuals. One I’ve already taken care of, but I needed the okay from the university for the other.”
He offered his holoscreen for Philip to skim. He nodded as he eyes quickly took in the intel, catching him up to the situation.
“Cunning,” he said after a few moments. “I like the way you handled the first situation. Very resourceful. How did you ensure that the agreement would go through?”
“I called the contact at the government, pretended to be an old school friend, and said that the request was coming from higher up and not to ask too many questions. Then I hacked the system and gave the employee a small pay rise to coincide with them fulfilling the request.”
“Very resourceful. And untraceable?”
“Absolutely.”
“Excellent. Okay, report both these to the Director when you go back upstairs, and make sure that they are on board with the other request before you grant it. Frame it as if it’s a fait accompli though… no point giving them a reason to undo it.”
Hans smirked. He realized that Philip was actually a lot smarter than he appeared. Hans understood the way that team dynamics worked, how people with different ideas and agendas could unravel a carefully thought out plan in a matter of minutes.
“Yes, sir,” he confirmed.
“Ok, and one last thing, Hans. You managed to get to this spot, but you were seen coming here on camera. See if you can get back to the office without your path being traced. You have as long as it takes, but I’ll be having one of your team pulling footage for me by end of play today.”
Hans felt his stomach sink. He was so tired of this messing around when there was no real danger. He tried to keep his face straight, though. “Yes, sir.”
Philip strolled off, whistling, in full view of both cameras, as casually as if he had been coming from his own car after a delightful lunch break.
Hans leaned back against his concrete column and growled quietly to himself as he wracked his brains.
So much for forcing them to be more creative, he figured.
Heddon Mocha Shop, Midtown, Spire
“This is it,” Alisha said, double checking the number on the door. “A mocha shop.”
Joshua looked up at the signage. “It’s an ideal public place to disguise the sender of the message, it’d be impossible to know who sent it even if we did manage to pinpoint the place of origin.”
Alisha leaned on the old-fashioned door plate and pushed it forward, allowing Joshua to stalk in ahead of her. “Age before beauty,” she teased.
Joshua made a face at her as he stepped inside. His gaze flicked around the cafe, searching for clues as to the type of clientele, quickly profiling their average customer.
Alisha was the first to spot the camera in the corner. “Let’s hope that’s actually rigged up and not on the net.”
Joshua nodded. “Yeah. If this hacker is good enough to have Cleavon unsure of himself for even a moment, he’s probably wiped any images of himself.”
Alisha’s eyes fell on a sticker on some of the point-of-sale material. She pointed to it, quietly.
Joshua smiled. “The GRX payment system. Nice. Good to have a backup. Let’s see if we can cross reference the time of the message with transactions just ahead of the time code.”
Alisha plugged away at her holo.
“What can I get you?” Suddenly the pair had the full attention of the server behind the bar.
Joshua reached for his badge, but then hesitated. He pulled his wallet out of his inside pocket instead. “I’ll have the mocha renaissance with cream on top. Alisha?”
She looked up, suddenly aware she was being called upon. “Oh um, just a straight mocha for me. Thanks.”
Joshua completed the transaction, checking the time it was taking to put the transaction through, and for them to get their drinks and sit down.
Alisha showed him the list of transactions for their time period. They sat down, and he clocked the time again. “Ok. We’re looking at three and a half minutes. Then he’ll need time to log in, jump through his security protocols and then write and send the message.”
Alisha was already punching away into the holoscreen on her wrist. “Ok. Sending the estimates to Cleavon. See if he can help us narrow it down. I’ll also ask him to tap the camera.”
Joshua nodded. “If we can pull it remotely we won’t need to start flashing badges and risk tipping anyone off.”
The pair drank their mochas waiting in relative quiet for Cleavon to come back to them.
“What you thinking?” Joshua asked eventually, noticing the distant look on Alisha’s face as she looked out of the window.
She shrugged with one shoulder. “Nothing much. I was just wondering if we should ask to have Cleavon on our team?”
“You mean ask Bates to transfer him?”
“I guess.”
Joshua pressed his lips together. “Do I detect a hint of—”
“No. You detect nothing, mister. It’s just, we’re asking a lot of him, and I think he’s better suited to investigation than protection.”
Joshua shrugged. “Well, this is only our second assignment. Who knows how the teams are gonna pan out and what we’ll be tasked with in the future.”
“You don’t get the sense that we’re better with intel than interference, then?”
Joshua took another glug of his mocha. “I’m… well. I guess you have a point.”
“I’m gonna mention it in my report,” Alisha told him decidedly. “They’re probably looking to optimize the group anyway.”
Joshua bobbed his head from side to side, conceding the point. “Maybe,” he muttered, wondering if Carol Bates was going to like being told how to do her job.
Alisha’s holo pinged. “He’s got it!” She turned the tiny holo-projected screen so that Joshua could see it.
“We got a name?”
“Arnold Sloth,” she told him. “It sounds familiar…”
“It would,” Joshua confirmed. “That was the fixer. For the smoke bombs incident, remember? The one that brought Duo into the fold.”
Alisha’s eyes flew wide. “You’re right!” she exclaimed, excitedly. She quickly lowered her voice and leaned forward over their table. “So he’s our link to the Northern clan!”
Joshua chewed his bottom lip. “Yep. That’s our link.” Before Alisha had time to process the implications he was up and out of his seat, pulling his jacket back on. “Looks like Cleavon came through for us.”
Alisha couldn’t hide her good humor. “Looks like you owe him drinks,” she added, getting up.
“I owe him drinks?”
“Yeah, that was the deal I struck. I think he wants time to hang with the boys.” She winked, then grabbed her jacket and takeout cup as she led the way out of the mocha shop.
Aboard The Empress, Agresh Quadrant
Molly moved toward the back of the cockpit. Joel got up and followed her.
“If they’re Federation, then surely Sean and Karina will be safe?”
“You’d think. But I’m getting the sense that this person has gone off the reservation. She’s out here, beyond the boundaries of Federation Space. And she just looks volatile. Don’t you think?”
“I’d agree, actually. Her body language is characteristic of… well, let’s put it this way. She wouldn’t pass as a soldier, that’s for sure.”
Molly glanced back at the screen of the empty cockpit on the other ship. “Maybe we need to check in with Lance. Find out what the deal is.”
Joel bobbed his head from side to side. “We could. But this is happening now. We don’t know how long it will take to get a response, and once we loop him in, haven’t we effectively failed.”
Molly smirked. “I thought it was just me that thought like that?”
Joel shrugged. “Yeah, and you’re our leader, so of course we adopt your parameters for success and failure.”
Molly was amused but forced herself to stay on task. “Well, if it’s just ego getting in the way, then we should reach out to him. The mission is more important at this point. Especially if Sean and Karina are in genuine danger.”
“Well, hang on. Slow down. Sean and Karina can look after themselves. She’s not going to space them without moving them to another part of her ship. She has the weapons in that space, and her pet Skaine.”
Molly took a step forward. “Emma, show us the cargo holding again please.”
The cargo holding room flicked back up on the screen. “You’re right,” she muttered to Joel. “So she's going to have to shoot them, or she’s going to have to move them. And in that time, we can have a conversation with her and find out what the score is. If we need to, Sean will be able to immobilize her. Oz, can you communicate with Sean and Karina and let them know what we’re thinking.”
Sure. On it.
She turned back to Joel. “Looks like our call to the General can probably wait a little longer,” she said smiling.
He put a hand on her shoulder and they returned to the front of the cockpit to stand behind Crash.
“Emma,” she called out more loudly. “Patch me through to the Skaine ship again, I need to talk to...” she trailed off, trying to remember the name. “Nickie.”
“Patching you through now,” Emma confirmed. Molly’s eyes never left the screens of the now empty cockpit of the Skaine ship, and the cargo holding area, watching like a hawk for the girl to appear somewhere again.
Director Bates’ office, Special Task Force Offices, Undisclosed location, Estaria
“Okay. Is there anything else you’ve discovered?” Carol looked up again from her holoscreens.
Hans stood politely in front of her desk. “No, ma’am. That’s everything.”
She nodded sharply and went back to her work. He took that as a sign that he was dismissed. He hesitated. “Ma’am?”
She looked up again.
“Does this mean I need to report back to Agent Bates?”
Carol smiled. “The spycraft exercises in town wearing thin?”
He permitted himself a half smile. “Well, erm… if I’m honest.” He didn’t need to finish the sentence.
“I’ll have a word with Philip,” she promised. “He can get a little over-enthusiastic about the old school craft elements. In the meantime, see if Bravo team needs any assistance. I’ve noticed that Cleavon has been spending a lot of time doing analyses for both teams. I sense a change is needed after this case.”
He nodded once. “Thank you, ma’am.” He turned quietly and slipped out of her office, relieved that he wasn’t required to jump through the tedious hoops of setting a spy meeting with his handler, only to tell him what he’d just told the director in a matter of minutes.
Carol waited until he had disappeared down the stairs into the bullpen before she opened her personal holo. She connected a call and waited for a response.
The call connected. “Greetings of the day to you,” the responder said.
“Greetings, Arlene,” Carol responded quietly and evenly. “I have news.”
“That was fast.”
“Well, we may not be the Federation, but we know what we’re doing down here.”
Arlene started to say something, but Carol was already moving on. “I’ve just had word from one of our agents that the root of the problem remains two-fold in terms of the two proponents.”
“Uh-huh.”
“There are two key influencers who pushed this forward,” Carol explained. “Each for their own reasons. You were right. They think they’re going to benefit from the school not existing. One had been taken care of.”
Arlene drew breath quickly. “You didn’t—”
Carol’s voice sounded almost warm. “No. We didn’t. Turns out there was a family business, sports equipment. All we needed to arrange was to have one of our assets in the district arrange to buy the school sports equipment from them for the foreseeable future.”
“That sounds… simple.”
“Yes, simple. But not easy. It’s been handled.”
“And the other?”
“That one is a little trickier. I need your help on it.”
“What’s the situation?”
“Well, the other influencer is backed by family money, so no such leverage. They were acting out of an ideology.”
“Oh… this is going to be more difficult.”
“Not quite. My agent discovered that there is a son. A son who is flunking out of Spire University and last weekend got into trouble for drugs. There’s an investigation pending. We can make the charges go away, but that doesn’t solve the problem of his education.”
“You want me to see if we can take him at the university.”
“It would seal the deal and mean you get to stay open.”
There was a pause on the line while Arlene considered her response. She sighed. “I guess we can make it happen. It’s a small price to pay.”
“It is,” Carol agreed firmly. It was clear that she didn’t want to get into a discussion about ideologies, or fairness. This was a job. She’d been asked to do the impossible, and she delivered. Whatever the tensions she and Arlene had, Arlene realized she respected Carol’s ability to get the job done.
“Who will reach out to the boy?” Arlene asked.
“We’ll handle it. I’ll have someone send over details for arranging his enrolment and you can take it from there.”
“Thank you, Carol. I appreciate everything you’ve done. And I’m sure Molly will too.”
Carol felt herself smiling. “Not a problem, Arlene. I’ll let you get on,” she added.
“Thanks. Bye Carol.”
The call ended.
Arlene sat back in her seat, shaking her head softly.
“Everything okay?” Ben’or’s voice came from the living room. She’d left the office door open so that he could hear some of it. The last thing she wanted was to shut him out of an operation he’d practically saved.
Arlene got up and wandered through. She could see he’d been working on his new wristholo while she’d been doing some work.
“Everything is going to be fine,” she smiled. “Thanks to your brilliant insight.”
Ben’or chuckled. “Glad I could be of assistance,” he told her. “Now, how about we discuss dinner plans?”
Houston Residence, East Waterside, Outskirts of Spire
Rhodez rang the doorbell of the large house on the outskirts of town. Large and white, it stood as a reminder of how the city had sprawled to devour the old terraformed farming communities. An industrial generator from the previous century stood several hundred yards in the rear grounds of the house, the ground now arid and barren. He turned back to look at the track he’d driven up. The terrain was too unpredictable and unmapped to go antigrav around these parts, and it had felt like it had taken him forever just to get from the edge of town to here.
A uniformed marshal answered the door. Rhodez had his badge already in his hand. He knew how jumpy these marshals could be when they had someone high risk in custody. Last thing he wanted was to be reaching into his jacket pocket. “Afternoon. I’m Detective Rhodez with the 41st. I have a few questions for your ward.”
The marshal eyeballed the ID for a moment and then stood aside to let the police officer in. “Down the hall, to the right.”
Rhodez headed down the hallway and through into a spacious living room. The house may have been luxurious once upon a time, but now the fading wood decor and worn carpets made it feel like it’s inhabitants were just making do in their existence.
An Estarian man sat in an armchair, hunched over the mocha table, fiddling with knick-knacks on the glass surface. There were remnants of tobacco on the table, as well as splashes of mocha. Rhodez concluded that he lived alone. Or at least there wasn’t a woman in his life regularly. He held up his ID for the man. “I’m Detective Rhodez. Malone Houston?”
The man nodded, unsurprised to see a police officer in his home at this point. There was movement off in the kitchen. Rhodez could see another marshal through the serving hatch, moving around, checking cupboards for something.
“I’m here to get some clarity on the incident that has landed you in this predicament.”
Houston snorted.
Rhodez guessed it was either contempt or sarcasm for the idea. He lowered his voice and made his way around to the other side of the mocha table to sit on the sofa, near to Houston. He leaned forward, an air of secrecy about what he was about to say. Houston allowed himself to be drawn in, his knick-knacks on the table forgotten, and his body language shifting slightly.
“Let’s say you didn’t do what you have been accused of,” Rhodez started. Houston stopped for a moment. Rhodez could see he’d captured his attention for a second.
Then Houston sighed and sat back in his armchair. “I’ve confessed,” he said simply. “That’s all there is to it.”
“But it’s not. I know you were set up, and I know that someone has forced you to plead guilty.”
Houston started to protest, but Rhodez held his hand up to silence him. “Look,” Rhodez continued, still in a hushed voice. “I’m after the guys that pressured you. There’s a lot more at stake than you realize. This is bigger than you, or I, and we’re on the clock to stop at least two murders before they happen.”
Houston’s brow furrowed, as if he was contemplating helping, but he shook his head. “I can’t.”
Rhodez sat back, thinking. “What happened when you protested your innocence?”
Houston shrugged. “The police just kept showing me my bank statement. The more I said that I didn’t know anything about the transfers, the more they insisted I did.”
“And what about the account where the money came from?”
“I had never heard of the name on the account before. But they said it had been central to their investigation—and that I would have got away with it if I hadn’t transferred the funds to my checking account.”
“So, they were already onto the account then?”
Houston nodded.
“Sounding more and more like a set up to me.” He paused. “You changed your story at one point too.”
Houston shrugged. “Lawyer said it was the best way to get a reduced sentence.”
Rhodez made a note on his holo. “Anything else happen around the time you changed your story? Did they find any other evidence? Or start putting more pressure on you?”
Houston shook his head. “No. If anything they started to leave off a little. Lawyer said it was a bad sign because it meant they had something that made their case more solid.”
“And that’s when he pushed you to confess?”
“Yeah. He managed to get me a really good deal. Four years down from twenty.”
“Really?” Rhodez had to work hard to hide his surprise and outrage. “Who told you it was twenty years on the table for embezzlement?”
“I…” he hesitated. “I think it was Scarlet?”
“Scarlet? Is that a girlfriend?”
“No. My attorney, Henry Scarlet.”
Rhodez made another note. “And how did you meet Scarlet?”
“He was assigned to me by the Department of Justice, I’m told. I mean, he just showed up in my interview room shortly after I was arrested.”
“How soon after you were arrested?”
“I dunno. Maybe an hour? Maybe less. It was a long time ago now…”
“Yes. I can appreciate that.” Rhodez sat for a long moment, contemplating what he’d heard. Then quietly he flipped out a tiny paper notepad and wrote his number on it.
“I’m assuming you have no holo…”
Houston showed the detective his naked wrist and nodded in the direction of the marshal at the front door.
“Ok. Look this is my contact IP. If you think of anything else, or anything else happens, be in touch, ok?” Rhodez folded the scrap of paper in two and dropped it onto the table in front of Houston.
Houston looked at it. “We don’t have holos where I’m going.”
“Yes, but you do have console access for good behavior,” Rhodez told him. He stood up, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder. “What you’re going through is tough, but you’ll get through it. Keep your head down and stay calm. I’ll do what I can on this side. I don’t believe you did it.”
Houston’s eyes started to tear up.
Rhodez gave the man’s shoulder a comforting squeeze and then put one finger to his lips. The two men nodded and Rhodez made his way noisily out of the room. “Thanks for your time Mr. Houston,” he raised his voice a few decibels as if to break the spell and return to a more distanced interaction for the sake of appearances to the babysitters.
As he left he noticed out of the corner of his eye Houston quietly picking up the note and discreetly pushing it into his pants pocket.
The marshal by the front door watched Rhodez approach down the hallway. He moved to open the door again. “Got what you needed?”
Rhodex nodded. “Yeah, not really. Open and shut,” he shrugged. “Not all hunches pay off,” he added feigning disappointment. He ambled out of the door. “Thanks for your help, marshal.”
The marshal nodded and closed the door behind him.
Rhodez was smart enough not to rush back to his vehicle, across the sandy mud. Last thing he wanted was to tip off anyone who might be watching. He had something, and he knew precisely who he needed to look into next to blow the lid off this whole thing.
Chapter 10
Capitol Building, Spire, Estaria
Commander Richard Ekks strode into his office. He had a matter of minutes before he had to turn right back around and head over to the other building for a meeting. Since he took this promotion his days had become meetings within meetings, packed alongside yet more meetings. Had he known beforehand what the day-to-day was going to be like he may have thought twice about accepting Ghetti’s offer.
It was too late now. He was in.
And he was indebted.
He’d taken the bribe and one day he knew they’d come calling for more than just a seemingly inconsequential vote here, and a helping hand in a situation there.
He rummaged on his desk for the stim packets he’d brought in with him that morning. He remembered he’d swiped them into his drawer when his assistant came in. Though technically not outlawed they weren’t exactly smiled upon in military culture.
He sat on his console chair and moved to open the drawer. His holo beeped. He checked it. A shudder rippled down his spine. It was a message from Ghetti, as if thinking about him prodded him to reach out.
He hit the decode protocol on the secret key that Ghetti had shared with him when they last met in person. The message decoded and displayed in Standard Estarian.
His eyes scanned the message quickly.
How we police the outer regions is a military decision, not a political one. We need you to make a statement in the media to this effect. Someone will reach out to you later today.
This was it.
This was the beginning of everything Raj Ghetti had talked to him about in their numerous clandestine meetings. Things were moving forward just as he said they would, and faster than Ekks had anticipated.
He typed a coded response to acknowledge the message and then deleted it. He sat staring into space for a few moments, contemplating the enormity of what he was a part of now. And then he remembered his meeting and stim packet.
He reached into his drawer quickly and located his stash, ripping open the packet and emptying the sachet of tart powder under his tongue. Then he discarded the packet, picked up his parade hat and hurried out of the door again.
Aboard The Penitent Granddaughter, Agresh Quadrant
Nickie stomped down the corridor with Grim hurrying along half a pace behind her, trying to keep up. “You know, you could just talk to them,” he argued. “If they’re Federation too then they’ll probably tell you.”
Nickie tapped the weapon in the holster of her right thigh. “I’ll let Jean Dukes do the talking,” she retorted.
Grim opened his mouth to protest again, but his words were lost to her. She was clearly fixated on the goal of finding out what their relationship was to her aunt.
Nickie. There is something else you need to know.
Oh, it’s ok Meredith. I’m about to find out everything I need to know.
She swung around a corner of the corridor, her boots announcing her advance as only hard rubber on metal could. A cleaning bot felt the vibrations and scurried to the corridor wall just in time to avoid being kicked.
There is something you need to know before you go in there, guns waving. The ship’s commander is a human, who has an AI in her head.
Nickie’s pace slowed. Grim managed to catch up, panting now.
Bethany Anne?
No. Someone else.
There is no one else.
Well, it appears that is not quite true. Her artificial entity is relaying intel to me now. I think we can trust them not to harm us. It seems that we’re each after the same thing.
A long life and lots of drugs?
No. Putting an end to illegal arms dealing in this sector.
You mean, they’re the good guys?
Nickie and Grim arrived at the cargo hold door.
Yes. That’s what my analysis is suggesting.
Shit. Just to be clear, I don’t get to royally kick Leath ass?
‘Fraid not.
Ok. So, what’s our solution?
The entity contact is suggesting we reconvene at their base.
Yeah, like I’m that stupid.
I think you should reconsider. If there are any problems, I’ll get us out of there. Plus, you have two of their people on board.
Fuck, I really have no choice. Nickie sighed. “Okay. Change of plan, Grim. We’re not going to torture these folks for information.”
Her fingers hovered over the door keypad, and she sighed again. “But we do need to get Durq out of there. Prolonged exposure to a stressful situation and who knows what state he’ll be in.”
“Okay,” Grim said slowly. “And the humans?”
“Well, it appears we’re on the same fucking side, so for now we’re going to have to play nice.”
Grim watched her carefully. “You’re disappointed?”
“Well, you know me. I’ve been gearing up for action and all this is turning out to be more of a drama. Just need to ask them to put their goddamn guns away, else I’ll have to teach them some manners on my ship.”
Nickie, The Empress is trying to hail you. The female human’s name is Molly. You’re probably going to want to take this.
Nickie’s hand dropped from the keypad. “Ok, patch her through.”
“Hi there, Pretender,” Nickie answered.
Molly’s voice came back through her implant. “Hi there, Impostor.”
Nickie pulled a face at Molly’s retort but kept talking. “So, I’m about to head into the cargo hold. You wanna make sure your people know that we’re friends and that we don’t need to shoot each other?”
“Yes, one second.”
Back on The Empress Molly hit mute and reopened the channel to Sean and Karina.
“Guys—Nickie is coming in. She’s friendly. Well, not exactly in the social sense. But in terms of the op she’s a friend. We’ve been going after the same targets. You’re going to want to put your weapons down, please.”
She heard a sigh on the line, and then the clicking of guns being disarmed and safeties going back on.
She muted them and unmuted the line to Nickie. “Okay, they’re good.”
“Good.” Nickie stood back from the panel and then leaned against the wall, wanting to finish her conversation before she talked to the other humans on her ship. “So, I’m interested to know how you know about the Rangers.”
“Oh, we’re equally interested to know why you’re impersonating a Ranger,” Molly replied coolly. “But that can wait. Right now, we need to get away from this location in case that deal really is going down around here.”
“Fine with me.”
“May I suggest that we rendezvous at my base?”
“How do I know you’re not laying a trap?”
“Did you miss the memo where Oz and Meredith figured out we’re on the same side?”
“No. But still. I’d like some assurances.”
Molly sighed, taking a moment to think. “Well, how about you keep my people on your ship and you can deliver them safely to my base when you’re satisfied that we’re not trapping you.”
There was a frustratingly long pause on the line. Molly shot Joel a glance, showing her mild annoyance at this newcomer.
“That would be okay. I guess,” Nickie responded eventually.
“Great. We’re sending Meredith the coordinates now. See you back there. We’ll put the kettle on.”
The call disconnected, leaving Nickie wondering what the hell the woman had meant about a kettle.
She punched the access code into the keypad. A moment later the door slid slowly open to reveal Sean and Karina sitting on crates. Her gaze flicked around the room, looking for Durq. She found him, her supposed arms dealer, in the corner, hiding behind the pretend stack of guns.
Nickie raised her eyes to the ceiling. “Give me strength,” she muttered exhaling sharply.
Aboard The Empress, Agresh Quadrant
Jack had been watching the whole interaction quietly from the back of the cockpit. Hearing the new plan, she relaxed. “I guess my services are no longer needed.”
“Not at the moment,” Molly confirmed.
Jack headed out of the cockpit and back to the lounge, allowing her heart rate to return to normal. Her military background had prepared her well for the game of hurry up and wait, and thankfully it also gave her to tools to unwind if it turned out the action was delayed or aborted.
Joel remained in the cockpit, smirking at the interaction with Nickie and watching Molly’s reactions. Molly ignored him. “So, Oz? How exactly is this going to go when we get back?”
“You make tea. Play hostess. Show her around and let her see you’re not monsters.”
“Right and then what?”
“And then you and the prodigal granddaughter need to sit down and talk.”
Molly exhaled sharply, sitting herself down in the nearest console chair. “Great. Just what I wanted. A mission turning into a babysitting task.”
“She’s not exactly a baby,” Oz reminded her. “Besides, you still have to solve the problem of getting those weapons back.”
“Well, she’s young enough to have created this cluster fuck of a mission,” Molly retorted. “It might be worth letting Sean and Karina know that if there is any funny business they have permission to… well, do whatever it is those Federation types do to get what they want.”
Brock snorted again.
Joel’s chest was bouncing up and down as he laughed silently, his arms folded across his chest.
Molly wasn’t sure if it was because she had called them and their tactics Federation-types, or whether they were amused with her annoyance with Nickie. Either way, she was too distracted to care.
This girl was turning out to be a pain in her butt.
Aboard The Penitent Granddaughter, Agresh Quadrant
Sean and Karina stood motionless in the cargo hold. It was large and cold, and resembled something one might see on a docudrama about people trafficking.
This ship definitely has a dark history, Karina thought to herself.
“Okay,” Oz told them through their audio implants. “Molly is talking with her right now. She’s just outside the door.” The pair exchanged looks as they listened to Oz’s briefing.
“Molly is agreeing to leave you on the ship with them and for us to rendezvous the ships back at the base.”
Sean spoke quietly through gritted teeth. “You mean we have to stay here with these crazy fuckers?”
“If it’s any consolation,” Oz explained, “Molly has given you permission to use any means necessary to stay alive. But I would warn against killing any of the crew members especially since they seem to have links with the Federation.”
Sean huffed. “So what are we meant to do?”
“May I suggest making friends? You do know how that works, don’t you Royale?”
Karina’s eyes danced with humor, tickled by the interaction between her husband and the AI. “Hey, do you always manage to cultivate such hostility with everyone?” she asked Sean. “Or is it primarily AIs and EIs?”
Sean disarmed the ZF-1 he’d been holding. “Funny,” he told her. “You didn’t have to marry me!”
“Well, actually, I kinda did,” she responded. “It was either that or rot in Dad’s dungeon.”
Sean started to answer her back but the door to the cargo hold beeped and slid open, revealing a smallish blonde human and a yellow Yollin.
Karina raised one hand in a hello. “Greetings be upon you,” she said, smiling amicably.
Sean simply glared at the young female, pretending to be Ranger Two. He lifted his chin slightly, assessing her, yet saying nothing.
“I hear we’re all going back to Gaitune,” Karina attempted again.
“Yes. That’s the plan,” the human told them. “I’m Nickie. I will be your escort for today.” She rested her hand on the holstered weapon on her right thigh. “Any funny business, and I’m sure you can guess what I’m capable of.”
Sean’s eyes narrowed as his gaze fell to the weapon strapped to her leg. “Jean Dukes.”
Nickie looked a bit surprised but handled it well as she nodded. “You know your weapons.”
Sean nodded. “Used to carry a set myself. Back in the day. You know… when the frontier was policed by the lone gunmen.” He watched carefully to see if she picked up on the ranger reference, his brain searching for any clues as to who this girl might be. She didn’t seem to recognize him, but she did react when he mentioned the lone gunmen.
Karina stepped forward, her hand outstretched. The Yollin took a step backward behind Nickie. “I’m Karina. This is Sean. Royale. We’re both Royale.”
Nickie stepped forward confidently and shook her hand. She narrowed her eyes at Karina. “You’re not going to tell me you’re brother and sister?”
Karina shook her head.
Nickie nodded in understanding. “Married,” she concluded, with a slight smirk. “This is Grim,” she told them. “He’s the chef. Can make anything.” She folded her arms, looking from one to the other expecting something but nothing was offered.
Grim stepped forward. “Except we’re a little low on supplies right now,” he added shaking Karina’s hand now.
Karina smiled congenially. “That’s okay. We’ve got plenty of food back at the base. We’ll have you fed in no time, I’m sure.”
Karina glanced back at Sean. He seemed a million miles away. “You okay honey?” she asked.
“Yeah. Fine. Just doing some calculations. How fast can this ship go?” he asked Nickie.
Nickie’s expression went blank.
A voice came over the intercom to the cargo hold. “It was originally designed to travel at up to five hundred, but with a few enhancements we can push nearly six-fifty.”
“Meaning we’ll be back in Gaitune in…” Sean screwed up his eyes trying to do the calculation.
“A few hours,” the voice responded. “I’m Meredith, by the way. I’m aware of you Sean Royale,” she added mysteriously. Karina shot him another look, as if her earlier point about AIs and EIs was just being confirmed.
Sean’s eyes widened. “Well, you have me at a disadvantage, Meredith, because I know nothing about you except that name. Want to explain?”
“Well,” Meredith continued, “since we have a long ride ahead of us, and not much else in the way of entertainment, perhaps we can all have a nice talk?”
Sean ambled over to the crates. Durq panicked and scuttled away and hid behind Nickie. Sean pulled at some of the crates and arranged them like a seating area and plonked himself down on one.
It wasn’t the most comfortable, but it would do.
“Sure thing, Meredith. Let’s start from the beginning—as in, when you and Nickie left the Federation.”
Nickie tapped a finger to her lips. “I don’t think…”
He waved a hand. “It’s okay,” Sean reassured her, his tone gentler now. “I’ve been told to make friends rather than kill you. So, I suggest we get any secrets out of the way before we get back to base, because those folks out there understand a lot less about the goings on at the Federation than I do, and they might not be quite so understanding.”
Nickie moved toward the crates and sat down, followed shortly by Grim, and then Karina.
Durq remained at what he perceived to be a safe distance. The making-friends phase of Sean’s mission had begun.
Chapter 11
Conference room, Special Task Force Offices, Undisclosed location, Estaria
The Sark had already descended beyond the planet’s horizon, leaving the last remnants of twilight bathing the streets in a reddish glow.
Rhodez strode purposefully from his car in the underground carport. He made his way into the secure facility. Passing through empty corridors, he accessed several security checkpoints, each demanding a little more confirmation that he truly belonged in the location. Eventually he emerged from the final elevator and headed into the office space.
His initial scan of the office showed him that no one was at their console. Instead, they were already assembled at the top meeting room. Realizing he must be late he strode quickly through the deserted office and took the steps up to the meeting room two at a time.
Now that he was closer he could see they were still talking amongst themselves. That meant they hadn’t started yet. He made his way in, closing the door behind him and nodding deferentially to Mrs. Bates who was still sorting through an array of holo screens on her wrist holo.
Alisha caught his eye. “Here,” she said, moving a chair out for him next to her. He hurried around to the other side of the table and sat down, noting that Joshua was watching. He guessed he wasn’t happy that Alisha was giving him what might be deemed to be special treatment.
Thankfully Carol Bates seemed ready to start the meeting. A hush fell over the meeting room full of agents.
“Greetings,” she announced. “It seems like today has been a productive use of time. Who wants to go first?”
No one moved, so Alisha raised her hand. “We can,” she volunteered, drawing a playful glare from her partner in the process.
Carol gave her the nod and sat down.
Alisha tapped her holo and cued up some of her evidence to show on the meeting room’s presentation holoscreen. “Our task was to investigate the former occupants of the positions filled last Thursday. Joshua and I took the undersecretary, one Robert Califray, to Garet Beaufort. Califray hadn’t been reported missing, even to this day, but his apartment has been re-let, and his things sold off. His job was also given to someone else. When we went digging we found that no one had actually heard from him in person. It was only after his assistant went looking for him at his apartment that she received a message at the office explaining he wasn’t coming back from vacation.”
Joshua took over. “With the help of Cleavon, we were able to track down the origin of the message to a mocha shop in midtown. We checked it out. Cross-referencing the time of the message with payments made at the mocha shop we were able to narrow down potential senders to one known person of interest in this whole campaign.”
He nodded to Alisha who tapped her holo to reveal the mocha shop image of Arnold Sloth.
There was a collective gasp in the room. All the agents here had been involved in discovering this man in the first instance over a year ago now.
“It’s that the guy behind the smoke bomb at the university!” Soraya exclaimed.
“One and the same,” Alisha confirmed. “Back then we discovered that he was a fixer for the Northern Clan, but the trail went cold. Plus, it was a few smoke bombs and kids.” She added glancing over at Hans Duo on the other side of the table. “No offense,” she added, suddenly remembering his involvement.
He waved his hand. “None taken.”
Carol interjected. “So we think he sent the message impersonating the missing person. To what end?”
“To stop people from looking into Califray’s disappearance,” Alisha responded confidently.
“We’re thinking he probably killed our guy,” Joshua added grimly, “and then sent the message to stop anyone from looking into his disappearance.”
Carol nodded, taking notes. “Right then,” she drawled as she tapped her holo. “What’s your next move?”
Alisha and Joshua exchanged looks. “We’ve put a watch out for Sloth. When he surfaces, we will want to interview him.”
Carol tapped her lip. “People like that don’t admit to anything. They lawyer up. When you find him, keep eyes on him and see what he leads you to. You’ll end up with far more intel that way than if you bring him in and spook him.”
“Yes, ma’am,” they responded in unison.
Carol studied the pair for a moment. “And you might want to start digging carefully—and I mean carefully—into his replacement, too. Tread gently, because based on everything else we know, he’s suspect for something.”
Alisha took another note, as Carol shifted her attention. “Rhodez? You were on our embezzler. What did you turn up?”
Rhodez straightened up in his seat and took a breath. “I don’t think he did it,” he stated bluntly. “The sudden payments in close succession over a few days into an obviously traceable bank account. It wasn’t him.”
Carol regarded him skeptically for a moment. “And his confession?”
“Turns out he was strongly encouraged to take a deal for a smaller sentence after the police had started releasing the pressure on him. His attorney, Henry Scarlet, suggested it was the only way to get his sentence down from twenty years.”
Elroy leaned forward. “Hang on, you can’t get twenty years for embezzlement.”
“Exactly,” Rhodez agreed, pointing at his teammate, “and you’d think an attorney of the justice department would know that. But when I asked, it wasn’t the police who had said anything about twenty years. That had come from Scarlet.”
“So, we’re thinking the attorney is dirty?” Carol clarified.
Rhodez nodded confidently. “Yes, ma’am. I was gonna run an analysis on his cases overnight, see if he has done anything like this before. Even now though, I think it’s safe to assume he’s in someone’s pocket.”
“Good work,” Bates told him. “Elroy, Dhashana, Cleavon—where are we on protection details?”
Dhashana spoke for her team. “Suedermann and Carpe are both under constant surveillance. They have to continue with their work, but we have safe houses ready should the situation escalate. They’re being watched around the clock by two agents each, and each potential target has been fully appraised of the situation. They know the risks, and we’ve recommended full protective custody which they’ve each declined. We’ve also got requests in with the security teams at each of the government buildings to increase security in their departments, too.”
“Good.” Carol’s cold smile hardened. “If there is so much as a suspicious person or anything in chatter that suggests they’re in danger, I want them pulled and put into protective custody. I don’t care what they say or how much they protest. It’s out of their hands at that point. Understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Dhashana confirmed.
“Cleavon?” Carol said, turning back to the analyst.
Cleavon was prepared. “We’ve got the go-ahead for a bug on Beaufort and his new undersecretary. We’ll be planting it in the offices tonight, posing as cleaning crew.”
“When you say we, you mean?”
“Raza and myself,” he confirmed. “Well, Raza mostly,” he qualified, shooting a look across to the athletic-looking Estarian. “I’ll be on point tapping their existing security feed so we can get in and out undetected.”
Carol nodded. “Ok good luck. Let me know as soon as you’re done with a holomessage.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he confirmed.
Carol checked a few more items with her team before dismissing them. The meeting room emptied out with some agents ready to complete their night-time missions, and the others going home to get as much rest as they could before it all started again the next day.
Hangar deck, Gaitune-67
The Your Future's Devine set down on the hangar deck, after only a short delay due to security protocols. Nickie waited somewhat patiently as the others got their gear together and headed out down the ramp into the new Federation-looking base.
I’m not comfortable with this, Nickie grumbled to Meredith in her head.
She strode confidently down the ramp of her ill-acquired ship. Her long, dirty blonde hair curled resentfully around her face, defying all of the tonging and straightening she had put it through the last time she showered.
Despite her attitude and unhealthy habits, she was athletic and toned. As Molly watched her approach, she guessed it was probably on account of the nanocyte technology she must have been exposed to. She’d noticed changes in her own body after her pod doc experience, making it far easier to stay in good shape.
Grim had congenially invited the two humans to move ahead of him. He followed them down, his two set of boots padding gently against the metal grating. Durq hung back, but scuttled in between Grim up front, and Nickie reluctantly bringing up the rear. He looked like a fearful pet, caught between his two masters.
In light of recent revelations, it appears that this is going to be your closest contact with home in several years, Meredith reminded her.
That’s exactly why I’m not happy about it. Plus, that Molly chick said AI.
Yes. I noticed that too.
How come she gets an AI and I only get an EI?
Meredith paused uncharacteristically. Are you suggesting I’m not adequate?
No. I’m just curious.
Maybe you can ask her. You know, when you sit down and talk.
I dunno. That’s a bit… you know, personal, don’t you think?
I wouldn’t know. I’m a mere EI. I have no inkling of the social nuance of the situation.
Touché, Meredith.
* * *
The humans reached the hangar deck floor first, to be met by more of the crew. There were two human females she could see as she approached. One with pale white skin and one a chocolatey brown. Nickie’s gaze flicked from one to the other trying to guess who she’d been talking to. It was strange seeing such a high density of humans in one place after all this time.
There were back slaps and hugs. A similar display of camaraderie that she had seen all the time with the troops back on the Meredith Reynolds. The very thought of it made her resent these people already.
Finally, she reached the bottom of the ramp, noticing that Durq kept his distance from the group but orientated himself closest to Grim. Grim was such a people person, she mused, idly.
The girl with the yellow hair and pale complexion moved toward her. “Greetings,” she said. It was the same voice she had been dealing with. She looked less intimidating in person. “Welcome to Gaitune-67, home of the Sanguine Squadron.”
The guy with her echoed the sentiment. “I’m Joel,” he said, offering his hand. Nickie remembered the old human custom. And hated it. Nevertheless, she forced herself to be accommodating and shook both their hands.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Nickie. Nickie Grimes.”
The human who had identified himself as Sean Royale reacted when she said her name but offered nothing.
“So you guys are Federation?” she asked, filing Sean’s reaction away to follow up on later.
“Not exactly,” Molly confessed.
Nickie glanced around at the ships all around. “But these are Federation ships. And Federation technology.”
Molly smirked. “Is your EI telling you that?”
Nickie blushed. “Yes,” she admitted, playing with her finger. “But I did grow up in the Federation.”
She regretted the impulsive display of attitude immediately.
“Interesting,” Molly remarked. She glanced sideways at Joel, noticing that he was studying the young lady for more clues. And probably a psychological profile.
Molly changed the subject. “I suppose we should let the General know you’re safe.”
Nickie felt her blood run cold. “No! Let’s not. Please, don’t do that.”
Molly frowned. “Why not?”
“Because.” She paused a moment. “Well, it’s complicated.”
“Are you on the run?”
“Not exactly.”
“Well, what then? Are they looking for you?”
“No. At least… I doubt it. I’m… on leave.”
Joel interjected. “With a Skaine ship?”
“Yeah,” she snorted. “What about it?”
Molly pressed her lips together. “I think we need to have a talk before we go much further. And you need to fill us in on exactly what is going on, else I have a duty to report this to the Federation.”
Not like you to toe the company line.
She’s clearly not happy at the thought of me reporting this. I think I can use it.
That’s admirably deplorable.
Watch and learn, Ozzy-baby.
“So, Nickie. What do you say? Wanna sit down and talk about this diplomatically?”
Nickie had folded her arms. She released one hand to wave it dismissively. “Whatever. Fine.”
Molly looked around at the accumulating personnel. “Okay, how about you and I head into the base conference room, and Joel, perhaps you could organize introductions and look after our guests?”
Joel straightened up, surveying the group that was mulling around. “Sure thing.”
Molly clocked Paige heading down the stairs from the daemon corridor. “Perhaps you could get Paige to organize some beers and pizza for us in the conference room, whatever our guests would like. Maybe take them up to the safe house and make them comfortable?”
Joel smiled. “No problem.”
Molly motioned to Nickie in the direction of the double doors off the side of the hangar deck. “After you,” she said politely.
Nickie strode off toward the double doors, annoyed with herself as much as anything else.
Joel snapped his attention to the group that was assembled on the hangar deck.
“Okay,” he announced, feeling like he had a bunch of new recruits. Karina and Sean flanked him as if they were his back up. “This is Karina and Sean.” They waved their hands at the newbies. “I guess you guys have already met though,” he added, a little embarrassed. He stepped forward and offered his hand to the Yollin.
“You are?”
“Grim. This is our friend Durq.” Durq waved awkwardly and folded one arm across his body and held onto the opposite elbow.
Joel noticed the awkwardness and didn’t push for the handshake.
Paige appeared during the introductions, the sound of her high heels on the hangar deck flooring heralding her arrival. “Hey, guys… how’s i—”
The Skaine and the Yollin turned to greet her, and she jumped back in surprise. “Oh my!” she exclaimed more loudly than she had intended. She drew back and quickly clamped one hand over her mouth.
Sean chuckled. Karina immediately slapped him with the back of her hand, shutting him up.
“Paige,” Joel explained, smirking himself, “these are our new friends. This is Durq and Grim,” he indicated to one then the other.
Paige collected herself and caught her breath. “I’m so sorry. Greetings of the day upon you. I’m Paige,” she said, stepping forward again to shake Grim’s hand. When Durq didn’t offer his she resorted to a shallow, awkward bow in his direction, unintentionally avoiding eye contact.
Maya joined them, and immediately had a similar reaction to the new species. Paige helped steady her by grabbing her arm, and making the introductions, albeit still somewhat nervously.
Joel intervened quickly. “Paige, would you like to take our guests upstairs and arrange some food and refreshments for them? Molly would like some beer and pizza in the conference room for her and our other guest, too, if you don’t mind.”
Paige peeled her eyes away from Grim and Durq. “Of course. No problem at all,” she confirmed. She turned back to the newbies. “So, Durq and Grim.” She smiled, making a concerted effort to learn and use their names. “Would you like to follow me? We’ll get something fixed up for you.”
“Thank you,” Grim replied for the both of them. “That’s very gracious of you.”
Paige flashed another lopsided smile and then ushered the two across the hangar deck and out of the base. Maya wandered alongside them, curious to know more about their visitors. She’d never seen a Yollin or Skaine in the flesh.
Neither had many of the others.
Brock and Crash had been watching from a short distance, casually obscured by The Empress. As the visitor party disappeared across the hangar deck, they collected in a group with Sean and Karina.
“Well, this is certainly a turn out for the books!” Brock commented excitedly.
“You’re telling me,” Sean agreed. “Back in my day we’d be ass-whooping Skaines left, right, and center.
Karina glared at him.
“Oh, they’d be returning fire,” he protested. “They were badasses. The group of them.” He paused, watching the party ascend the stairs to head back to the safe house. “That Skaine doesn’t look right in the head though. They’re normally more…”
“Aggressive?” Joel offered.
“Annoyingly so,” Sean finished, his head cocked in curiosity.
“Looked like a scared pussycat to me,” Karina commented. At that exact moment Neechie showed up, appearing a yard in front of them. He walked a few paces to where the strangers had been standing and then disappeared again.
Karina and Joel glanced at each other, eyes wide in both amazement, and amusement.
Brock scratched his head and rejigged the pack on his back. “Okay, well, we’ve got shit to do,” he announced, changing the subject. “No doubt we’ll have to try this mission again in a few hours. I for one want to have eaten, rested and have the ship ready when we do”
Crash mumbled something in agreement and the group broke away in pairs going about their business.
Chapter 12
Meeting room, Special Task Force Offices, Undisclosed location, Estaria
“So, what did we find?”
Carol Bates was on the case this morning. Her crisp white blouse was tucked elegantly into the atmosuit pants she wore. She was ready for either a mission or a meeting and judging by the hands on her hips the team suspected she was shooting for both right now.
Alisha raised her hand, drawing the go-ahead to report in.
“We’ve got eyes on Sloth. Agents are following him at a safe distance. As soon as we can pinpoint his routine we’ll be bugging his living and workspace. We still like him for the disappearance of Califray and we’re looking for further evidence of his involvement.”
Rhodez raised his hand and waited for the nod from Carol. “I’ve been thinking about this. He could easily have given instructions to Scarlet to sway his plea. Can we keep a patch running in the data to look for any links between Sloth and Scarlet?”
Alisha made a note. “Sure. Just get us all the known addresses and facial images and we’ll add them into the analysis.”
Carol sat down, clearly mulling the situation. “Rhodez, are the money trails telling you anything?”
Rhodez shook his head. “We’re not sure yet. We’re letting the system do the heavy lifting to figure that out. It’s offline at the moment but the minute it comes back on our request is in the queue. The overnight sequence we ran on our local servers though showed that in terms of his cases, he had a good closure rate… but a much higher percentage of his cases are closed by them pleading down higher charges.”
Carol pressed her lips together. “Which would suggest that this is a strategy our attorney uses to close a case.”
Rhodez tilted his head thoughtfully. “Yeah, the only problem is that his defendants end up getting charged, even if they didn’t do anything.”
There were the usual check-ins about the surveillance operations and some mundane updates about details that were coming to light as they watch the two innocent government workers and the shady Arnold Sloth. It didn’t take long for Carol to wrap up what they needed to talk about and what could be put into a download for their daytime reading. Then she dismissed everyone. “Thanks, people,” she told them. “Good work so far.”
She sat down at the table again, clearly not in a rush to go anywhere. Hans Duo hovered, interpreting it as a sign that they needed to continue their conversation.
Hans waited for everyone to leave before getting the door.
“So, you heard all that about Charlie team thinking that Sloth is involved in the disappearance of their Califray?”
“Yes, ma’am. But you’re not buying it.”
“No. I’m not. This is classic Sneaky Steve.” Vindication arose in Carol’s steely eyes.
“What would you like me to do?”
“Well, we have agents on Sloth, so there is nothing for you to do right now. But at some point, Sloth is going to slip up and give us a lead. I’m hoping that it’s one that’s going to let us locate Sneaky Steve… And then you’ll be back in play.”
Hans nodded and got up. He didn’t need any more explanation. He knew what his role was. “We’ll bide our time then,” he concluded. Carol nodded, and he headed out of the door.
Base conference room, Gaitune-67
Molly paced in front of the table. There was a heavy atmosphere of seething resentment hanging over the conference room. Molly tried her best to ignore it, but there was something within Nickie that reminded her of herself not so long ago. She felt bad for her, but there was still an urgent mission that needed fixing. And fast.
“So what were you doing out there?” she asked simply.
Nickie sat at the table looking straight ahead, avoiding eye contact with Molly. “Same thing you were no doubt.”
“Which was?”
The young woman met Molly’s eyes with a flash of fire in her own. “Trying to stop those scumbags from doing a deal. Maybe even taking them out of the game. One less ship of mercenaries out there terrorizing the frontier.”
Molly halted at the other end of the room. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to understand where all the hatred and anger was coming from.
She attempted a clarification. “You don’t like Leath?”
“Not particularly, but I really have an annoyance for the Skaines,” Nickie shrugged. “Evil creatures. Only out for themselves, completely happy with enslaving any race they come across.”
Molly pulled out one of the antigrav chairs and sat down. “I can agree with the sentiment that they need to be stopped. But tell me, what was your plan?”
Nickie had been free-flowing sanctimony but suddenly stopped. She regarded Molly carefully. “Why do you need to know?”
“So we can figure out our next steps. Both those ships are still out there, and they have the weapons. The very weapons I’ve been charged to take out of circulation.”
“On orders from Reynolds?”
Molly paused before answering. “Yeah, that’s right. Which brings us back to how you know so much about the Federation.”
Nickie rolled her eyes. “I just do, all right? As for our game plan, we need to find a way to track those fucktards. I need to get back on my ship to look at some data.”
Molly put her hand up in a stopping motion. “Okay. In a minute. Just right now, tell me what your plan was. You were going to meet with the Leath and pretend to be making the exchange. Then what?”
“Well, obviously I don’t have the weapons, but once I knew for certain they were after them then I could pass judgment and take their asses out.”
Molly reacted internally to the idea of someone passing judgment but tried to put it aside. She regarded the slightly built adolescent, who clearly wasn’t that much younger than her. “The three of you?”
“No, those two are pretty useless when it comes to dishing out ass-kickings, even if Grim has more heart to help than ability. So just me.”
Molly didn’t take her eyes from Nickie. It was as if she were waiting for Nickie to reveal something else to her. Something that would explain how one human female thought she could go up against a ship full of Leath.
She’s enhanced.
How do you know?
I’m talking with her on board EI.
Molly leaned closer, as if trying to see the EI peering out from behind Nickie’s eyes. Nickie shifted uncomfortably and started pacing to avoid the scrutiny.
Fascinating.
Yeah. Seems it’s pretty normal for that core group of friends and family.
So it’s not a Federation thing?
More of a Bethany Anne thing, by the sounds of it. Something like a reward for those who took a chance on her to save her old world, against all odds.
Hmm.
Nickie had moved on from the past moments and responded with outright anger. “If you hadn’t shown up I’d have handled the Leath and been on my way to rain carnage down on the Skaines by now.” Her eyes darted around the room, giving her the look of a caged animal.
Molly shook her head definitely. “Nope. Sorry. I can’t let you go after the Leath now. They’re wanted by their government, so I can’t risk their authorities getting hold of them. Federation orders. Got to play nice when inter-civilization relations are involved.”
“Well, if you hadn’t been interfering in the first place.”
Molly put her hand up. “Acting on behalf of the Federation is hardly interfering.”
“I disagree. You don’t think that the Federation is all about interfering in other peoples’ business?”
“Fighting your own personal vendettas and going vigilante on the sector isn’t interfering?” Molly shot back.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re just all high and mighty with a stick up your ass because Uncle Lance left you in charge of a fucking asteroid base in the middle of nowhe—”
“Young lady!”
Molly froze, immediately wishing she could take back her last words.
Shit. I just became my mother.
Young adults will do that to you.
But I’m barely older than that myself.
Somehow, I think you’ve grown up without realizing it. You’ve become your Mom.
Oh, fuck me. Don’t say that.
Molly could feel Oz chuckling away in the back of her cortex. It tingled. She tried scratching her head.
Knock it off, Oz. This is serious.
Nickie had stopped ranting.
Well, seems to have had some effect at least.
Maybe there’s hope for your parenting skills after all.
Please don’t jinx me.
“Okay,” Molly began again, more composed now. “As I see it, you want to take both parties out, and I need to get those weapons back.”
Nickie seemed to be making an effort to cooperate. “Yeah,” she said slowly. “How about I go after the Skaines then? My preference is kicking Skaine ass anyway…”
“Fine,” Molly agreed. “And we’ll go after the Leath ship. We just need to figure out where our respective targets have gone.”
Kitchen, Safehouse, Gaitune-67
Paige moved ahead of her new group of guests, leading the way through the safe house into the kitchen. “Do you guys like pizza?” she asked over her shoulder. “I’ve got the best place in the system on speed dial. It’s one of two pizza joints on this forsaken rock, but it even does a mean meat-free veggie stuffed crust.”
“Actually,” Grim cut in as he followed her into the kitchen. “If you have the supplies, then I could probably rustle us up something.”
She frowned, thinking. “I don’t know what we’ve got. But you’re our guest. We should be looking after you, not having you slave away cooking for us.”
“Oh please,” he chuffed. “It’s no bother. In fact,” he confided conspiratorially, “I find it rather relaxing. It would be nice to take my mind off the life on a ship and all the intrigue for a while.”
Paige strode over to the larder as the others filed into the kitchen, she opened the door. “We have a ton of stuff in here.” She pointed to one of the big silver fridges at the other end of the kitchen. “The cold stuff is in there.”
Grim inspected the oven, tracing his fingers over the dials and knobs on the top surface. “Looks good,” he said, satisfied. He turned to Maya and Durq. “Is everyone good with pizza?”
There was a resounding ‘yes’ from the group, including Maya whose enthusiasm had just picked up.
Durq nodded excitedly. “Oh yes indeed.”
Grim rubbed his hands together and clapped a couple of times. “Great. I’m going to need a mixing bowl or two. Paige, perhaps you can find me some utensils. Maya, I’ll need flour and butter first of all, and see if you get the cheese out so it can start acclimating to room temperature. Actually, I feel like making an iron-rich soup as an appetizer, so any vegetation you have, let’s get that out too…”
The kitchen suddenly became a hive of activity as the two girls played sous-chef to Grim’s instructions. It wasn’t long before mouth-watering aromas filled the common room.
Paige washed the remaining dough from her hands. “Hey, I should go and catch up with the rest of the team,” she announced. “You guys gonna be okay in here for a bit?”
Grim nodded, stirring his soup. “We’re great here,” he confirmed, beaming.
“Excellent!” Paige took her apron off, throwing it over the back of a chair as she left.
Maya had been sitting at the kitchen table, chopping vegetables. She scraped her chair back. “I guess with an impending mission, margaritas are out of the question, but how about some virgin ones?”
Paige chuckled to herself as she heard Maya taking over the role of hostess, seamlessly.
Base workshop, Gaitune-67
Paige clip-clopped down the last few stairs into the workshop. “Ah, here you all are!” she announced.
Sean and Karina were working on some weapons. Sean appeared to be cleaning one and reassembling it. Karina was loading something that Paige didn’t even recognize.
Brock had his back to everyone, working away at one of the consoles and Crash seemed to be studying some maps of the sector they had been in. “I guess this is the most likely station,” he said to Brock. Brock acknowledged it, but it didn’t look like any surprising revelations were happening.
Paige stood with one hand on her hip and looked at the crew. “So? Is anyone going to explain to me what’s going on? Who are our new guests?”
Karina smiled. “Thought you got the introductions?”
Paige returned a sardonic half-smile. “I did. But I still don’t know what happened or what they’re doing here.”
Brock wheeled around. “We’re still trying to figure out what happened, and who these folks really are.” He grabbed a seat and offered one to Paige at the same workbench. “Here’s what we know so far. We went in to intercept the Skaine ship before the exchange. But so did they, posing as Skaines and trying to intercept the Leath, pretending to have the weapons.”
Paige tipped her head forward. “You’re kidding?”
Brock shook his head grimly. “Not even slightly. Couldn’t make this shit up… Anyway, turns out the girl, their leader, has some kind of EI bot in her head. Bit like Molly, but not. Apparently put there by the Federation.”
Paige put a hand to her chest to steady herself. “You’re kidding? Why?”
Brock shrugged. “Not entirely sure but reading between the lines of what Oz is picking up from their discussion she is some kind of Etheric Empire baby.”
“A what now?”
“I dunno. Something to do with the Empress’s nearest and dearest getting special treatment. They get certain enhancements and tech implanted to keep them safe and allow them certain advantages. In exchange for helping her, she looked after their children who could become a target by providing them a bonus. We aren’t too sure if those are the right details, but it’s probably close I’m thinking.”
Paige was speechless. Her mouth hung slightly open as she parsed the information.
“Anyway,” Brock continued, “the details are vague, but essentially we’re kind of on the same side.”
Joel wandered back into the workshop from the hangar deck, followed by Pieter. They both looked weary. Joel’s uniform had oil on it. He loitered, listening to the conversation, and Pieter took the kit he was carrying and shoved it back into one of the cabinets.
“All ok?” Brock checked with Pieter.
“Yeah. We just got done recalibrating the shield appearance. I’ve diverted full power back to the protection frequencies. No more pretending to be Leath.”
Joel sat down on a stool on the opposite side of the bench to Paige. “Yeah. Let’s hope we don’t need to disguise ourselves again. That was a bitch to reset.”
Brock turned to him. “Well, if it’s any consolation, while you guys were doing that we’ve managed to recheck all the cloaking systems.”
“And?” Joel asked.
“Well, it’s all working fine. So we definitely weren’t seen by the real targets and it was just a stroke of bad luck that we managed to bump into Nickie and Co.”
Joel scratched his head. “Still doesn’t explain why the other ships didn’t show up. They can’t have been in and out in the time we were cloaked and unable to see them.”
Brock sighed. “We can only guess at this point. Either they saw us heading in, or something changed. Somehow they managed to communicate with each other and change their rendezvous point, either as a result of catching onto us, or just through paranoia. Meredith checked their job system, and nothing changed on there. No alerts or anything… so I’m assuming the latter.”
Joel bobbed his head. “Okay. Does Molly know?”
Brock shook his head. “She’s still busy with Princess Federation.” He chuckled at his own joke. “But Oz will be letting her know as soon as she gets a moment.”
Joel sighed, heaving himself off the stool. “Okay great. I’m gonna shower and get some rack time. Sounds like we’ve only got a few hours at most before we need to head back out again.”
Brock got up too. “Good plan. Don’t forget to leave your boots by the door. When we get the go we’re going to have to literally jump.”
“Yeah,” Joel muttered, dragging himself across to the stairs. “Let’s hope I get at least forty winks.”
Paige watched him go. “Hang in there,” she encouraged. “It’ll be over soon, and then we’ll be back to routine.”
Sean and Karina had been talking among themselves. “Don’t say that!” he called over. “We’ll never catch a moment’s peace.”
Karina grinned. “I never had you pegged as superstitious!”
Sean chuckled, clicking the final piece of his weapon together. “New habit,” he confessed. “Since things just seem to be jinxed.”
“Okay,” Paige declared. “I need to get back up there. Pizza should be ready soon if you’re hungry. Grim is cooking and so far, it’s smelling a-ma-zing!”
There were excited grunts and exclamations about the home-made pizza as Paige made her way back to the stairs and followed Joel back up to the safe house.
Base conference room, Gaitune-67
Looks like we’ve got a lead. On the Skaine ship, anyway.
Tell us, both, Molly instructed him.
Oz’s voice came over the conference room audio. Molly noticed that Nickie wasn’t at all taken aback by it. Nor did she seem particularly impressed.
“There have been reports of a Skaine shooting at a nearby trading post. Sources are saying it looks like a bar brawl that got out of hand.”
Molly shook her head. “That’s original.”
Nickie agreed. “Skaines,” she hissed through gritted teeth. “And how many innocent bystanders have been killed just because they drank too much?”
“I don’t have a report on that yet. This is still just chatter. Station police are arriving on the scene right now.”
“Looks like we have a beat on where the Skaines might be,” she determined. “But no way of knowing whether the Leath have taken possession of the weapons yet… or if the Skaines still have them.”
“How are we so sure it’s our Skaines?” Nickie asked.
“It’s the nearest trading post to where the exchange went down.”
Nickie interjected. “And if the Skaines are in a bar it’s probably because they’ve got their score, which means they’ve already exchanged their weapons for money.”
“Shit. Well, that’s your target identified.” Molly cursed, hands back in her hair. “Now we just need to find the Leath.”
“Well,” Nickie got up from the table and started toward the door. “Looks like I’ve got my work laid out for me. I’ll just grab my crew and get going.”
She stopped in her tracks. “But I am curious… about how you know my aunt.”
Molly narrowed her eyes, an idea striking her. “Well, I guess if we were friends, we’d be able to sit around and talk about it. But it sounds like we both have work to do...”
Nickie hesitated. “Well… hang on. What about if I help you get a jump on the Leath? After all, it wouldn’t hurt to look like you had some Skaine muscle behind you, and honestly? You’re more likely to get close with a Skaine ship than a Federation one.”
Molly thought for a moment. “Well, that would be pretty cool.”
“Great.”
“But what about the Skaines?” she asked.
Nickie waved her hand. “No biggie. I’ll catch up with them eventually. And besides, if they’re at the bar, they’ll be a while sleeping it off and then getting drunk all over again. That kind of cash from the weapons they were selling will keep them going a while.”
Molly frowned, just realizing something. “So what, you’re some kind of Skaine hunter?”
Nickie scoffed. “Not really.” She paused, her eyes looking up and to one side. “Well… actually, yeah. Maybe I am. Though I prefer to think of myself as more a lone ranger.”
“With friends.”
Nickie chuckled quietly. “Every ranger needs a crew. Gets tedious otherwise.”
“Which brings us back to the question of why you’re impersonating a Ranger…”
Nickie looked awkward. “Well, it’s complicated.”
“Try me.” Molly watched her adamantly.
“It’s not entirely an untruth,” Nickie started to explain slowly. “I was trained by my aunt. She was Ranger Two. And she gave me her badge when she left… so… I just picked up where she left off. That’s all.”
Molly studied her. “So you’re admitting you’re part of the Federation after all?”
“Empire, but yeah. My grandfather was in with the Empress herself. One of the Bitches. The personal guard.”
Molly sat back down, glad to have Nickie finally confirming what Meredith had already told them. “And you’re… enhanced?”
“Yeah.”
“With a computer in your cortex and everything?”
Nickie nodded, and then frowned, leaning forward a touch to look at Molly more closely – as if peering into a mirror. “How did you get yours?” she asked. “Are we related?”
Molly shook her head and smirked. “No… mine happened in a completely unexpected, non-Federation kind of way.”
Nickie waved her hands indicating at everything around them. “So how come you have all this?”
Molly leaned back and threw her hands in the air. “Sometimes I ask myself that question too. I guess there was a position going and I just fit the bill. Right time, right place.”
Nickie narrowed her eyes. “I’m not sure I believe that. And I’m not sure you truly believe that either. Knowing Uncle Lance…”
“Uncle Lance?”
“Yeah. But not by blood, obviously. But, you know. The kids of the Bitches all grew up around this Empire-or-call-it-Federation-if-you-want shit and so we’re all treated like the nieces and nephews of the others. You know.”
“Yeah…” Molly said slowly. “There’s only one other person I know who calls Lance Uncle though.”
Nickie sat up. “Oh yeah? Who would that be?”
Molly shook her head. “We’ll get to that. Maybe. Right now, bigger fish to fry.”
“Like tracking down those Leath?” Nickie said.
Molly nodded. “Exactly. And I think I have an idea. But you’re probably not going to want to be here for the next few minutes.”
“Why? What are you thinking?”
“I’ve got a plan, but you’re going to owe me big-time, because this is going to wreck my otherwise perfect record of always getting my guy.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Why don’t you head back to your ship and pull off the exact ship registration number for the Leath we’re after, and ping it back to me on my holo?”
“Ok,” Nickie agreed, suspicious again.
“Then head up to the safe house, I’ll meet you there.”
Nickie nodded abruptly and then strode out of the conference room.
You’ll help Meredith find her way around?
Yeah. She’s already tapped into the wireless. I’ve allowed her access to basic layout and schematics. Nothing more.
Good. Thanks, Oz. Now let’s see if we can get a quick meeting with the General.
Aye, aye, Captain!
Chapter 13
Base conference room, Gaitune-67
The three-dimensional holoscreen opened out from the center of the conference table and unfolded to display an image of Lance’s office.
Molly waited, peering curiously at the empty office. She heard a scuffling off camera, then a thud, like a box of books hitting the floor.
Lance appeared through the open door from his main office.
“Ah, Molly. Hello.” He sat down at his console chair and settled in. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Molly braced herself internally. “I need some help, sir.”
Something flickered across his face. Was it a smirk? “Help with what?” he asked innocently.
“With tracking down a particular Leath ship,” she admitted.
He raised his chin, contemplating. “I take it the exchange went ahead, then?”
“Yes, sir. We ran into some… hiccups.”
“Hiccups?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And what form did these hiccups take?” he asked, looking more and more interested by the moment.
Molly racked her brains and spoke fast. “It was a delicate operation. The slightest timing discrepancy would have had it fail. However,” she continued quickly, “we still have the element of surprise. Neither party knew that we were there, or that we’re onto them.”
Lance regarded her carefully. “Well, by the sounds of it, if you’re asking for the Leath location, you’re not onto them.”
Molly’s gaze hit the desk in front of her. “Yes, sir.”
Lance steepled his hands and sat forward. “Well. I suppose I could call in a favor and get you the coordinates. All on the down-low, of course. If anyone were to ask where you got them, it can’t be from me.”
“Of course, sir. So, you have a way of getting them?”
“I have a guy who can pull their tracking data. Send me the ship’s registration. It may take a few hours, but you need to be ready to move. Once we have them there is no guarantee they’ll stay at that location for long. Especially not if they’re carrying a payload.”
“Yes, sir. Of course, sir. And thank you.”
Lance leaned forward to terminate the call. He paused as if having another thought. “And Molly?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Let’s not screw up again.”
“Yes, sir.”
The screen went blank and folded itself away. Molly exhaled slowly.
Looks like we got away with that one.
Barely.
You think he suspects anything?
Like ‘the penitent granddaughter’ being in our mix?
Yeah.
I wouldn’t like to speculate. There is one thing ADAM is really good at though, and that is knowing everything all the time.
That’s true. You think he might be testing us to see if we come clean?
Maybe.
Is there anything in any of those rules and regs that say we have to report on any contact with Federation personnel, on leave or otherwise?
Nope. Already checked. Nada.
Molly slumped back in the chair for a moment, her hands on her head and fingers interlocked. Well… I guess that’s decided then.
She heaved herself up wearily. Lemme know the second we get those coordinates and put the crew on standby for a quick turnaround.
Aye, Captain.
Molly smiled to herself. I’m going to join the others for food.
Kitchen, Safehouse, Gaitune-67
Grim, Durq, Nickie, Paige and Maya sat around in the kitchen eating. It appeared that cooking together was an excellent bonding exercise.
“So then what happened?” Paige and Maya watched transfixed as Grim continued the story.
“Well, I’m not sure. I was still slipping around in the kitchen, trying to get my shit together. Meanwhile, her highness,” he gestured at Nickie who was slurping on a smoothie, “managed to get all the way to the control room, past goodness knows how many Skaines.”
Nickie tried to suppress a grin, with the straw in her mouth.
Grim soaked up the captive audience. “The next thing I heard was a bunch of explosions and weapons going off. By the time I got to the bridge she was already declaring to the space-station’s commander that she needed refueling!”
Maya and Paige laughed hysterically. Even Nickie was amused and enjoying the moment.
Molly arrived just as Grim finished his story. “Sounds like it’s all fun and games up here!” she remarked.
Grim jumped to his feet. “Please sit, Molly.” He set a bowl in front of her and then ran back to the cooker where he had a pot on the boil. “I’ll have some more pizza ready in a moment, but in the meantime, try this.” He scooped a liquid into the bowl. It was a relatively natural and healthy-looking color.
“What is it?” she asked sniffing at it skeptically.
“Grim’s not a warrior,” Nickie explained, “but he is a damn good cook. Just try it.”
Molly picked up a spoon from the center of the table and tasted it. Flavors exploded on her tongue and the soup trickled down the inside of her throat almost as if it was already nourishing her. “Wow! That is amazing!”
“See,” Nickie said, victoriously.
“I do!” Molly agreed, taking another spoonful.
Grim blushed. “Just something I rustled up from a few things you had in the stores already.”
Paige interjected. “I was going to order pizza like you said, but—”
“I insisted,” he continued. “Least I could do after all your hospitality – and, you know, not shooting us on sight,” he added only half-jokingly.
Nickie breathed out through her nose, marginally entertained now.
“So,” Molly said between spoonfuls. “It looks like we might have a way to extract the current location of the Leath vessel. As soon as we receive it we’ll need to go.”
Nickie pulled her mouth down at the corners. “Impressive. How did you manage that?”
“Oh, you know. Friends in high places,” she responded, winking.
Nickie nodded, wary of steering clear of any conversation which might prompt more questions about her history with the Federation. “Friends in the Federation?” she ventured.
Molly smiled. “I cannot confirm nor deny that statement, but let’s just say, it was better that you weren’t in the room.”
Nickie’s face softened for the first time since she’d arrived on Gaitune. “Thanks,” she said gently.
“Any time.”
“So,” Paige continued pulling Molly’s attention to the next topic. “It looks like we’ve had some progress on the ground with the Academy.”
“Oh?”
She grinned and then shot a look in the direction of their uncleared guests. “Details will have to wait until later, but it appears our impending doom has evaporated away.”
Molly’s next spoonful slopped back in her bowl, her hand and mouth coordination forgotten. “What happened?”
“Ben’or,” Paige responded simply. “And your Mom.” She smiled again. “Details later. But I figured you should know so you can chillax.”
Molly returned her attention to her soup and mopped up a splash with her napkin. “Yeah. Wow. That’s a huge relief.” Just hearing the news, the others seemed to relax too. It was like a weight had been lifted from all of them, freeing them up to focus on the newcomers and their impending mission.
Grim sniffed the air, getting up to shuffle back around to the oven. “I think that this second pizza is just about ready.” He donned the oven gloves and retrieved the molten cheesy delicacy, carefully placing it on the countertop.
“Nom nom,” Durq muttered as the smell wafted through the kitchen. Molly noticed that even he looked more relaxed now, albeit probably on account of the lack of guns being waved in his face.
“Okay, who wants the first piece?” Grim asked. There was a clattering of chairs and plates as everyone got up to receive their next slice of heaven. Grim chuckled, thrilled that his culinary skills were being so appreciated for a change. “Next one has to go down to our friends’ downstairs,” he warned them.
Safehouse, Gaitune-67
“Okay, folks,” Oz announced over the safe house and base intercom. “We’ve got the coordinates. Time to move out.”
Joel was in his quarters, lying on his bed, eyes closed. He opened one eye, then shut it again. He was exhausted. That last mission had taken it out of him for some reason, and the prospect of such a fast turnaround sucked.
He took a deep breath, willing himself to push the tiredness aside. Counting to three in his mind, he opened both eyes and swung his legs off the bed.
“No rest for the wicked,” he mumbled to himself, grabbing his boots and slipping them on as he had hundreds of times before. A minute later he was heading down the corridor, zipping up his atmojacket.
“Pizza?” Grim asked, offering him a box from a stack of boxes he had ready in the common room.
Joel took the box. “You packed some up for us?”
“All part of the service,” Grim replied with a slight bow.
Joel couldn’t believe his luck. He took a sniff of the amazing food smell coming from the package and realized just how hungry he was now. “Wow. That’s really decent of you. Thanks, Grim!”
“Of course. And good luck out there. Whatever the plan is. I’ll be staying out of harm’s way. I’m a cooker, not a fighter!”
Joel chuckled. “I guess staying safe is a good plan, then. Thanks, Grim. I hope we get to spend more time together at some point when this is all over.”
“As do I, Mister Joel.”
Joel patted the Yollin on the shoulder and then strode down the hall to the workshop door.
Meanwhile, everyone else seemed to be collecting their special packages of home-made pizza and heading in the same direction.
Joel followed the crowd through the safe house, down the basement stairs, through the workshop and back out into the main base. When he arrived onboard the ship, Molly was already there doing up her belt in the lounge. The ship was already humming, ready to lift off as soon as the doors were closed. Joel made his way straight to Molly and sat down next to her.
“Bringing lunch with you?” she asked, nodding at the box.
“I didn’t get the chance to eat.”
“You feeling okay?”
“Yeah. Just a little tired, that’s all. So did you find out much more about our guest?”
Molly shook her head. “Not anything useful at this point. She seems to have a chip on her shoulder about her grandfather, more than the Federation itself, but I think over the years it’s just become generalized.”
“I’m going to excuse the pun.”
Molly sniggered, realizing what she had said.
Joel strapped himself in and started opening the pizza box. “Do we have a plan for when we get to these coordinates yet?”
Molly shook her head. “Not beyond the obvious. We’ll know more as we approach. Coordinates look like they’re for some kind of shipping port – which would make sense. If they’ve just scored their weapons then they’re probably looking to exchange some of them for parts and supplies, I guess.”
She shrugged. “But like I said, we’ll know more soon.”
“And then I can put together an operationally realistic plan in the five seconds we have between seeing the target and engaging.”
“Exactly,” she agreed, patting his arm.
Joel snorted, and tipped his head back against the headrest for a moment.
She nodded at his pizza. “You should eat now, though. Won’t take us long to get there.”
He glanced down at it. “Smells amazing.”
“It really is,” she agreed.
“Ladies and gentlefolk,” Crash’s voice announced over the intercom. “We’re about to leave the base for Take Two of this mission. If you could take your seats and engage your seat belts, Empress Spacelines will be ascending any minute now. If you look out of the port side window you will see our local example of a Skaine ship. Take note and commit this to memory, because it’s unlikely you’ll see such a specimen in these parts any time soon.”
Crash continued in his normal pilot-announcer voice. “If you’d like to take holoimages, please consider your feed followers when choosing to post publicly. And please remember, any unauthorized footage will be removed by our in-house AI. Consider yourself warned.”
The Empress gently lifted off, and although Crash was only joking with his crewmates in his announcement, more than a few of them shuffled over to the port side windows in the lounge to get a look at the Skaine ship that was taking off just ahead of them.
“The power of suggestion,” Molly mused, remembering how she’d use that many a time to manipulate co-workers for amusement in her pre-Sanguine Squadron days.
Aboard The Empress, Skipum Wharf, Agresh Quadrant
Crash brought The Empress to a pause fifty kilometers out from the shipping port. “Yep, definitely them,” he said, punching in on the registration plate on the hull on the holofeed on the main display.
Molly studied the holoscreen. “Great. If they’re here they’re either in for repairs or restocking on parts. Let’s get Nickie on the line.”
Crash punched a few keys and Nickie connected with them on a second holo screen and over the cockpit audio.
“You seeing what I’m seeing?” Nickie chimed confidently, bypassing normal pleasantries. Molly noticed she had her feet up on her console unit in the bridge.
“That this is our target?” Molly confirmed.
“Exactly.”
Molly glanced over at Joel to check he was watching before she continued the conversation. “So any ideas for retrieving the weapons and immobilizing the troops?”
Nickie looked like she was actually thinking. “Dunno,” she said reluctantly. “Just blowing up the ship with a torpedo seems a bit overkill – given that the good people of this port probably didn’t do anything I’d object to.”
Joel watched Molly’s expression as she stood, hands on hips facing the main screen. “You think?” she scoffed.
The sarcasm seemed lost on Nickie. “Yeah. I’m thinking we should dock and then go in and take out a few of them manually.”
Molly was about to protest when Nickie kept talking. “We don’t need to kill them all. Just a few – just to show that we mean business.”
Molly’s frown deepened. “How about we set the weapons to stun and just immobilize them and tie them up? I need to call in the Leath authorities, but more importantly, we need to get those weapons off that ship before they get there.”
Nickie paused for a moment. “Okay,” she agreed reluctantly. “We can do it the un-fun way. My preliminary scan is showing there are about two hundred crew, fifty-something of whom are gathered in the ship. Might be a bar or mess hall, or something.”
Joel stood up and edged closer to Molly to talk in a low voice. “From the schematics, it looks like we could probably confine them to that area and take control of the ship separately.”
Oz’s voice came over the intercom. “Meredith has suggested taking control of the ship’s secondary controls and putting it in lockdown. Apparently, she’s done this before to great effect.”
“Okay, we’ll do that,” Molly agreed. “But only on my signal, when we’re ready to storm the station. We need to be in position first.”
“Crash, take us in,” she instructed, touching his shoulder briefly. “Nickie, perhaps you could dock on the port side. We’ll take the starboard. That will give us two angles of approach once we get boots on the station.”
Nickie nodded, taking her feet off the console and standing up. “No problema,” she agreed. “We’ll get ready. See you on the flip side. Penitent Granddaughter, out.”
Molly shook her head, trying to maintain her patience. “Hey… Nickie, wait!” she called. “Make sure you wait for my signal. We all strike together, got it?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve got it. Stick up ass, et cetera, and so on.” She ended the call connection with an exaggerated roll of her eyes.
“That girl!” Molly growled in frustration.
She turned to see Pieter and Joel sniggering quietly. “Stick up ass!” Joel chuckled. “Classic!”
Aboard Skipum Wharf Space Station, Agresh Quadrant
It didn’t take long for either ship to get clearance to dock, and they managed to take up their positions without a problem. The crew disembarked onto the docking bay and made their way through the empty corridors completely unchallenged. The people they did pass seemed completely nonplussed by them being heavily armed, probably on account of the aura the team gave off of being on military business.
“Probably just assuming we’re the authorities,” Sean whispered over their private comm channel.
“We are the authorities,” Molly countered quickly just before a pair of Ogg crew members came within earshot of their group.
Apart from Pieter and Crash, the others were out en masse, moving swiftly down the corridors, weapons still in holsters. Even Brock had felt confident enough to venture out on this mission, much to Joel’s surprise.
“Okay, ladies,” Nickie announced over their implants. “I’ve got eyes on them.”
Karina slowed her pace, nearly tripping Joel up behind her. “How the hell does she have eyes on them?”
Sean pulled her back into formation. “I have no eye dear,” he chuckled quietly. “Get it? Eye dear…”
Karina raised one eyebrow at him, unimpressed.
“Okay,” Sean conceded, making sure they maintained their position in the group sweeping the corridors. “She has implants and little marble sized devices that she can send out.”
Molly and Joel turned to look at him.
“Probably,” he added.
Molly had already shifted her attention back to the task at hand. “When this is all done we’re going to sit down and you’re going to tell me everything you know about this girl and her family.”
Sean shrugged. “Well, some of it is classified.”
Karina glared at him, as if with a warning.
“Oh, but I’ll tell you everything you need to know, baby,” he added hurriedly.
Joel noticed that Molly had heard the comment but chosen to ignore it. – at least for the time being. “Okay, focus people, we’re getting close. Move in on my mark only.”
He made hand signals and the team moved forward on the warehouse segment Oz had pinpointed for them as they had docked.
Jack took the initiative and moved around to flank the other side. “I’ll find another door in, just in case they try to run,” she told Joel quietly as she moved off.
“Good thinking, Jack,” he shot back, distracted by instructing the others.
“All part of the training,” she whispered through the holoconnection as she rounded the corner at the far end of the corridor they were on.
“Brock, stay close behind me,” Joel continued. “Molly, if you’d like to do the honors you can go ahead. Sean and Karina, if you could fan out around the left-hand side as we breach, you can limit their options as we close in. All get into position. On my mar—”
Before Joel could give another instruction, there was an almighty bang followed by a whistling like a high-pressured kettle. Then an explosion.
The corridor shook.
“What the fuck?” Sean yelled.
Joel and Molly looked at each other. “I guess Nickie wasn’t waiting around,” Joel surmised.
Forced to make their move, Molly stepped up and kicked open the double door in front of them. She moved swiftly in, weapon drawn and sweeping the area for targets.
The team followed quickly behind her, entering just in time to see Nickie drop a dozen burly Leath single-handedly with rapid laser fire.
Once they were down, she busied herself, tying them up with some kind of leashing device that allowed her to hogtie each one in a matter of seconds.
The dust from the explosion started to settle, revealing a bunch of broken up crates. Crates that had been full of what looked to be spare parts. Nickie finished binding the fifth Leath and then straightened up, stretching her back like she’d been doing something mundane like cleaning.
“Anyone wanna help me get these SOBs packed away?” she asked, as the Sanguine Squadron stood around, mouths agape, and weapons still unholstered.
Molly was the first to respond. “I thought we said no killing?”
“I didn’t kill any of them!” Nickie protested. “Set to stun, see?”
“And the explosion?”
“A distraction,” she explained simply, kicking at some of the debris near a flaming pile of wooden pallets.
Molly put her sidearm back into her thigh holster. “Well, in that case, sure, show me that device you’re using, and I’ll give you a hand.”
Sean looked butt-hurt. “But you said she was to wait for your mark!” he protested.
“I did,” Molly agreed, turning the new toy over in her hands and then aiming it at the wrist of a downed Leath Nickie was holding up for her.
Molly fired it, and the plastic thread wrapped the wrist, leaving the other part dangling looking for the other one. Nickie dropped the bound wrist and then put the other one near it and finished the job by wrapping it with the loose thread which seemed to constrict until it held the two hands tightly behind the Leath’s back as he lay unconscious on his belly.
Molly ducked as three small metal marbles, probably the ones that Sean had mentioned returned to Nickie, hanging in mid-air just a few feet from her. She swiped them out of the air with one hand, clipping them nonchalantly back into her belt. “Dunno what you’re so bothered about,” she commented. “I just did all your dirty work for you.”
She dusted some debris from her shoulder.
Molly shrugged in Sean’s direction. The rest of the team had started poking around the carnage that remained.
“Okay, let’s get the weapons moved off the ship,” Molly announced, handing the binder to Brock to take over.
Nickie brightened. “I’ll go get my house bots. Save us getting sweaty hauling those crates.”
She headed off back the way she had come, stepping over the metal door she had blasted through.
Joel sidled up to Molly. “You sure about this?”
Molly paused, then nodded. “Yeah. She’s got a game plan, we just need to keep them from getting back to the Leath authorities. I’ll have a chat with her before she goes, though. Sean, Karina, wanna make sure the dock is secure. Don’t want any unexpected surprises.”
“Yes, boss. On it,” Karina called, heading out after Nickie.
I’ll put the call into the Leath authorities.
Thanks, Oz.
Molly stopped to survey the scene. It sure was good to have a highly competent team, she mused to herself as she noted the sheer mess that they were going to leave behind.
Chapter 14
Cyber Communications Department, Spire, Estaria
“We’ve been on this rotation for nearly a week,” Hughes complained. He glanced over at his partner Riley. She sighed but didn’t answer. He always thought of her as a tough version of prom queen. A prom queen who had no interest in dalliances anymore, and instead did her best to define herself through her work.
Riley closed the holoscreen she was using to spy into the window of the mocha shop where their target had been sitting for the last twenty minutes of her lunch break. A strand of dark hair fell against the side of her face, and without really registering she hooked it back behind her ear.
“You know the score on these things,” she told him. “We sit here until the brass tells us not to.” She turned to notice him. “Besides, it’s a damn sight cushier than a ton of the assignments we could be on. Especially after, well, you know.”
Hughes sighed, the back of his head hitting the headrest in mild frustration. “Yeah, I know.” He rustled a plastic bag. “You want a sandwich?”
She shook her head. “No thanks. Hang on.” She pulled up the holo again. “Okay. She’s on the move.”
Hughes hurriedly screwed up the bag of food and stuffed it into the side pocket of his door. He gently started the engine just in case they needed to move.
“Shit, I can’t see anything from this far away. Let’s get closer. Just in case.”
Hughes rolled the car out into traffic with the goal of doing a drive-by whilst the target got into the imagined safety of her vehicle. Once she was inside, she would be sheltered – from most things, at any rate. Then he could turn around in a side street and follow her back to the government building secure parking lot where he would sit for another five hours until she finally finished work. Then he would follow her home where she would prepare a holoscreen dinner and crash around midnight.
“Okay. I’ve got her,” his partner told him, her eyes scanning the holo amplification for any signs of a threat.
Hughes drove as slowly as he could without drawing attention. If he timed it just right Carpe would be in her car just as they passed her.
“She’s going for the car,” Riley told him.
A car pulled out in front of him, pulling his attention. “Shit, I’ve lost her,” Riley cursed.
Then there was a scream and a flurry of activity on the street just around Carpe’s car. Before he knew it, Riley was out of the car and running across two lanes of traffic, flashing her badge as if it would protect her from getting run over.
Hughes expected the worst. He pulled the car over and flew out, following his partner across the street.
He arrived panting, to see Riley pushing people back using her badge as a forcefield. “Get down, move back,” she yelled. “Police! Move back!”
She kept turning, looking at the rooftops.
Hughes turned his attention to the upper windows across the street, searching for any sign of a sniper. The crowd was still in danger. They were in danger. Plus, there was still a chance—
He glanced down at Carpe. The bullet had gone straight through her head.
“Okay,” he corrected himself. “There is no chance she’s still alive.”
He made a snap decision. “I’ll go after the shooter,” he told Riley.
She nodded her agreement. “Be careful!” she shouted after him.
He vaguely heard her as he rushed back across the street, barely aware of the sound of horns chastising him for getting in their way.
His thoughts were on other things, like exit routes a sniper might take out of a building. From the position of the body, he guessed the shot came from the red brick building directly across the street. He could be wrong, of course. That would all come out in the investigation. Would be nice if that investigation included extracting a confession from the son of a bitch that just tapped his ward though.
His brain scrambled, his eyes searching for a likely exit route. Round the back, he thought. Too many cameras on this side of the street. He noticed the red brick building was a hotel. That would mean security cameras in the corridors – probably.
He found the nearest alley that would let him pass behind the building and ran as fast as he could. There was a gate at the bottom. He looked around for something to help him scramble over it. There was nothing.
Then he heard the footsteps moving briskly on the other side of the gate. He pressed his face against the gate, the mesh scoring his skin, creating a hatched print. He caught sight of a figure and strained to get a closer look. The figure was dressed in black, about 6’ 2”, medium build, but definitely packing some muscles under his black atmosuit. Not only that, but he carried a large holdall. Certainly one big enough for a rifle.
Hughes was about to shout out but stopped himself. He reached for his weapon. That wasn’t going to help at this angle either. He pulled his holo out. The man was walking in the opposite direction. He didn’t have a shot of his face. He snapped a few images.
Now is the time to shout out, he told himself. He felt his voice get caught in his throat as the urgency of the situation caught up with him.
“Hey!” Nothing. The sound wasn’t loud enough.
“Hey, you!”
That was louder.
The man turned briefly, allowing Hughes to take a snapshot of his face before he set off running down the street.
Gotcha, he thought, checking the image. It wasn’t perfect, but it was probably enough to get a facial rec off the system. He uploaded it immediately, just in case anything happened, and then started heading back to help his partner out.
They were going to be in some shit for this, but at least they had a lead they didn’t have before. He shook his head at how cold he had become. No more sitting watching Dorota and her holoscreen dinners. He felt bad for the old girl.
Conference room, Special Task Force Offices, Undisclosed location, Estaria
The next morning tensions ran high as the agents assembled for their briefing.
“Bravo team!” Carol called out, without waiting for everyone to settle down. “What can you report?”
Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy from lack of sleep. It was probably safe to assume that she had been up all night since getting the call, working the case leads and simultaneously keeping the higher-ups in the loop so they didn’t do anything that might tie their hands in the wider investigation.
Elroy stood hurriedly, pulling up slides of data on the main holoscreen. Dhashana’s head was down fielding incoming intel on her own holo. Even Cleavon looked frazzled, his shirt unironed and unstarched.
The first image on the screen was a photograph of the murder scene, showing the road and the building where the sniper shot from. “Our ward was taken out by a sniper as she came out of the Department of Cyber Communications building. The agents on the ground were unable to stop it even though they were parked just across the road. In fairness to them, it’s worth noting that there was nothing they could have done – given that we were allowing Carpe to go into her place of work.”
There was an awkward pause before he continued. “While Agent Riley secured the scene, Agent Hughes went after the shooter, estimating where he might be seen emerging. He managed to snap an image of the man we believe is responsible.”
The next slide on the presentation showed a series of images of the shooter, dressed in black, carrying the holdall.
“We’ve run facial recognition. It appears that this is our guy, except we’ve no identity for him. He is, however, wanted in connection with a series of suspicious events. Darfort, the Engleton bombing two years ago. There are shootings going back twenty years we can connect him to.” He gestured in the direction of Bates. “Even our esteemed leader has worked a case where this man was a suspect. But we’ve yet to obtain fingerprints or a single sample of DNA.”
Dhashana’s attention was back on the briefing. “Each time he strikes it seems like he just picks up and disappears until the next time. No cyber trail, no money trail, no nothing.”
Carol pulled herself closer to the table on her antigrav chair. She studied the two agents who had spoken so far. “This is true,” she admitted. “We nicked named him Sneaky Steve. We could never get an ID on him or tie him directly to anything. But now we know he’s involved. Arnold Sloth is involved. Our job now is to find a tangible link between the two and bring them both in. We need these men taken off the board. They are both to be considered armed and highly dangerous.”
She glanced at Cleavon who was taking notes on his holo. “We’ve been trying for a long time to get Sneaky Steve, and data analysis has always been a bottleneck. As you know, our technological capabilities are now greatly improved. Our best course of action now is to use these enhanced capabilities to find the links we need to locate them.” She focused on Bravo team. “Your job is to follow communications and money trails. Find anything and everything that might be useful in finding out who these men are working for, and where they are. As soon as you have anything, you’re to report to me. Is that clear?”
“Yes, ma’am,” they chorused.
Cleavon raised his hand. “Ma’am, there is still the issue of the other ward. Suedemann.”
“Take him into protective custody and get him into a safe house. We may need him later.”
Cleavon actioned the order immediately, tapping a message to the agents who were watching Suedemann.
“Anything else?” Carol asked.
No one else dared mention anything. Raza and Soraya knew they should just get on and help Bravo team. They didn’t need to be told about that.
Alisha and Joshua glanced at each other. They knew that their investigation was going to tie up with the Bravo team assignment anyway. They just needed to crunch some data. Rhodez knew what he needed to do too.
There was a flurry of activity as Carol dismissed them all, and the agents filed out of the room.
They all knew it was just a matter of time before the facial rec system would give them a location on Sneaky Steve – and then all hell would break loose.
They needed to be ready for it.
Chapter 15
Special Task Force Offices, Undisclosed location, Estaria
Nearly a whole day had gone by when the alert went out. Sneaky Steve had been spotted heading into a motel on the east side of the city, miles from where the shooting had taken place.
Joshua glanced down at the alert on his holo. He knew exactly what it was before he even read it. The fact that everyone’s was going off at once meant only one thing.
They were sending in a SWAT team. He opened the message. He’d been selected to attend. One look at Alisha told him she was heading out too.
The pair moved, along with another half dozen teammates toward the doors from the office. Protocol dictated that they head down to the locker rooms, change, and then head out to the weapons locker where they would be collected and taken to the location.
The excitement pumped his body full of adrenaline. He would be ready. They’d run the routine several dozen times in training, but this was the first time they would be doing it for real.
Alisha looked pale, but her eyes were wide. “I’m beginning to regret that second mocha I had this afternoon,” she whispered to him as he held the door for her.
“You’ll be fine,” he reassured her. “Just a walk in the park.”
She smiled, hurrying ahead to catch the elevator that would take them further into the labyrinth.
Rhodez watched the chosen few leave and sat back down in his console chair. He hoped they’d do okay. Whether he was there with them or not, he wanted them to win. He just realized that if he wasn’t there, he couldn’t influence things. He couldn’t protect anyone. Specifically, Alisha. He would just have to trust that Joshua was sufficiently motivated.
Morðingi Motel, East side, Spire
The truck doors opened and the agents piled out on the street, creating a trickle of armored bodies that parted and flowed in two different directions around the motel, most to the front, some to the back.
Joshua followed behind the body he knew to be Alisha. If there was any rearrangement in order, though, it would be difficult to know who was who between the heavy gear, impaired vision of the helmets, and general confusion that always went along with these busts.
“The last sighting of our target was twenty minutes ago from a traffic cam on the other side of the street. He is checked in under the name of Hermit Rogers.” Carol Bates was in every agent’s ear – no doubt sitting watching everything from the tactical support vehicle that was already on location when they arrived. Joshua had clocked it just a few hundred feet up the street.
“When you’re all in position I will give the go-ahead. You go on my mark and not a second before, agents.”
Joshua felt weird not answering her with a ‘yes, ma’am.’ Given their location, Alisha was going to be the one to make the breach. He didn’t know if he should offer to do it for her. He didn’t know whether that would insult her, or if she was nervous about being the one on the sharp end. But then, he reasoned, he would be more likely to kick the door down in one go. That would give them the element of surprise and keep them all safer.
He ran up the stairs double time. One of the agents in front of him had taken the motel owner aside and presumably out of the front door, pumping him for intel all the way.
In no time at all they were outside the door. 112. This was it.
Alisha stood aside. She was breathing heavily, her goggles steaming up slightly. It was time to act. The other agent in front of him stood back as well. Looks like they all agreed he was kicking it down.
He moved into position, checked that Alisha was ready and then swung forward. With the first kick the door moved under his foot but didn’t break, either at the lock or at the point of impact.
More welly, he told himself.
He swung forward and kicked it again, this time as hard as he possibly could. The door frame snapped, splintering. He pushed into the weak point again and then got out of the way, allowing Alisha to trample over the top of the broken wood into the room. Her weapons were held firmly outstretched, sweeping the room for any signs of life and movement.
She stopped suddenly mid sweep to the left.
She’d found her target.
The second agent was already in after her, also moving to the left. Joshua waited a moment, and then followed the two in, covering off the space on the right-hand side of the room.
They had him.
He heard Alisha call it in over the holo.
“Okay, take him,” Carol’s voice commanded in their audio pieces.
“Wait, wait!” the man protested. He wore normal indoor clothes, but there was no doubt he was the man they’d been studying from the holo image all afternoon. He moved from the left of the room, toward the window. Joshua’s eyes scanned the area to see if there was a way he could use the window to escape. They were only on the first floor. Even if he jumped backward he would live.
“I can tell you things,” the man continued. “You want to know who I work for right? I have evidence on all of them. On what they’re plotting. Everything. I can—”
Alisha had left her comm open so that Carol could hear everything. Carol interjected. “Take him!” she repeated.
Joshua felt Alisha’s hesitation.
And then there was a loud bang.
The man stopped suddenly, his expression changing before he fell. Joshua moved forward, looking at Alisha. Her face was frozen in shock. But he noticed her finger was still along the side of the weapon. He glanced in the direction of the body. Already there were other agents filing into the room through the broken door, fanning out, stomping, calling the word “clear” from the different rooms.
Joshua stepped forward again. The man’s shirt was white, with a crimson patch growing on the back, through where the heart would have been. No exit wound though. More like the size of an entry.
Then he noticed the glass around the body.
Windowpane glass.
Then he felt the breeze. The air was coming into the room from the outside. He moved across the glass, knowing he shouldn’t be disturbing it, but he was compelled.
He looked out of the window, across the street.
It couldn’t be. Was it his imagination? He could have sworn he saw someone closing the window. It was difficult to see anything though. It might have been nothing.
He looked back at Alisha. She shook her head, and that told him everything he needed to know.
She. Didn’t. Fire.
He muted his holo, and signalled for her to do the same. “Come on,” he told her. “Let’s get you some air.” He made sure that the others saw him lead her out as if she were in shock for shooting someone.
He led her back out of the motel and down into the lobby. An EMT team were just heading into the building, along with any number of agents and analysts who were ready to start collecting evidence.
Or doing a clean-up.
“I didn’t—” she started.
He hushed her. “I know. But that means there is someone else out there who did.”
Alisha was even paler than when they had started. “We need to tell Director Bates.”
“Yes. Okay. But… are you okay?”
“Yeah. Confused. But I think so,” she told him.
“Okay. Go find that service truck. I think it was just up the street.”
“You’re not coming?”
“No, I’m going to go see if I can find out who actually shot our target.”
Alisha tried to grab his wrist, but he had already taken off onto the street.
Joshua scanned up and down the road, trying to filter out all the activity that should be there to try and figure out what shouldn’t. He thought about heading across the road and trying the alley. That was how Agent Hughes had caught Sneaky Steve. But he had a head start. From here, he could see who was going to emerge. He stepped back out of the way, against the wall of the motel building.
He waited there, out of the way of the clean-up crews and officials, watching.
* * *
Alisha banged on the truck door. For a horrible moment she questioned herself, wondering if it were just a service vehicle and not the ops van.
Then she heard movement.
The door opened, and there sat Carol Bates, a headset on and the operational device on two fingers of one hand, which would be used to control the specialist equipment, allowing her to zoom in, or replay at the twitch of a muscle.
“Get in,” Carol told her briskly, glancing around to see if anyone was watching them.
Alisha hauled herself in and Carol slammed the door closed after her. “What’s the problem, Agent?”
Alisha felt the adrenaline shock her anew. “Sorry to bother you ma’am but I thought you should know. I wasn’t the one to take the shot. The target was hit by a sniper outside.”
Carol frowned. For a second Alisha was sure there was a flash of recognition across her face. But then it was gone. “You mean you didn’t follow the order?” Carol asked pointedly.
“No, ma’am. I hesitated. I thought you should know in case there is something else going on that we didn’t know about.”
Carol busied herself with the array of open holoprojectors, carefully ticking off a checklist as if wrapping everything up. Eventually she stopped and turned to the agent stooped awkwardly in front of her. “I think you need to consider your report carefully. Disobeying a direct order in the heat of the moment doesn’t bode well for a long career in the department… if you understand me.”
Alisha shuffled back half a step, confused. “You mean, you want me to lie on my report?”
Carol shrugged deliberately. “I’m just saying, if your report says anything other than you pulled the trigger, you should know that that would require me to order a course of psychological tests and probably months of therapy.”
“But, that would mean the end of my career in the field,” Alisha protested.
Carol pursed her lips. “I know. So think hard, Agent.”
Alisha frowned. “But when they find the bullet…?”
“They will find it was fired from the appropriate service weapon.”
There was an awkward pause. Carol returned her attention to her screens.
“You know who did it,” Alisha realized.
Carol stopped again, and this time responded in a voice so low Alisha could barely make it out. “We couldn’t risk this target getting away. And you did hesitate, Agent Montella.”
Alisha suddenly understood. It was just back up. So Carol knew about it. So lying on an official report was all right, then. “Right. Okay. I’ll get my report done before I go home,” she promised.
“Thank you, agent.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Alisha tugged at the handle to the door and let herself out, back into the bustling real world, unsheltered by the sanctity of the ops van.
She needed to talk to Joshua. He needed to know. Apart from anything, she really didn’t want to be doing anything off-book without at least looping him in on it. Besides, he might have some last words of advice for her, ones that could stop her from going through with it…
Outside the Morðingi Motel, East side, Spire
Hans exited out into the back alleyway, the sound of sirens filling the air as more reinforcements showed up. Red and blue flashing lights penetrated even the daylight, illuminating the area for anyone who happened upon the scene.
His job was done, and now he needed to get out of there. Not that anyone was going to be looking for him. It was doubtful anyone even realized that he was the one that delivered the death blow. Apart from maybe the agent who was supposed to have pulled the trigger. She was probably confused.
He re-ran his view through the scope in his mind’s eye. There was no doubt in his mind that it was Alisha. But as long as she played along, there was nothing for anyone to worry about. They were just taking down a dangerous killer.
And yet, there was an unsettled feeling in his stomach.
He opened his holo and connected a call. A male voice answered. “It’s done,” Hans told him simply.
“Good. I’ll tell you when it’s safe to come in.”
“Yes sir,” Hans responded, before hanging up the call.
He hurried past the gap in the alley which led down to the street. He caught a glimpse of the police and the SWAT team. It was time to get well away from here as fast as he could.
* * *
Joshua’s eyes never left the gap in the alley. He had a fifty-fifty chance of seeing the shooter leaving the building. Half the probability said he’d turn the other way. The other half said he’d leave past this side street.
He was just beginning to think his guy had gone the other way when he saw a figure. Normal passers-by would slow their walk or turn to see what the commotion was about.
This figure didn’t. He just kept walking, as if in a hurry. In a hurry and dressed all in black.
It was too obvious, was it not? he mused to himself. Then, just at the last second, the figure turned and stole a glimpse in the direction of the noise.
He didn’t have time to get his holo up, but there was no doubt in his mind he knew who the figure was. It was Hans Duo, their classmate—and now teammate. The one that got the special assignments with the director’s husband. The one that seemed to get special treatment in the university. The one that came to them through unconventional means.
His heart skipped a beat as the realization hit him. Hans must have been the shooter!
He needed to find Alisha, and fast. For one thing, she needed to know that there really was another shooter.
For another, they needed to find out why Hans was in position, and they weren’t told.
Something certainly wasn’t right.
His eyes surveyed the scene, looking for any signs of Alisha returning from the van. It took a few minutes but eventually he spotted her and made his way through the chaos.
They needed to talk.
Special Task Force Offices, Undisclosed location, Estaria
Joshua arrived back at his desk to collect his street jacket. Alisha was already there working on her report. Her hair was still wet from the post-op shower she’d taken in the locker room. All the other consoles were empty, and even the lights in the conference room and director’s office were off.
“You gonna finish that tonight?” he asked.
She glanced around to make sure they were alone. “Yeah, I said I would.”
“When you talked to Bates?”
“Yeah.”
Joshua slumped down in his console chair. “You know, I’ve been churning this in my mind. Why on Estaria would they put Hans onto it?”
Alisha’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Right? And then why lie about it in the official report?” she added nodding at her screen.
“Maybe it looks better that it was a shot from the team that engaged?”
“Wasn’t it inevitable, though?”
“Well, maybe that’s the point. Perhaps it wasn’t. I mean, if he weren’t a threat, we might have ended up bringing him in. He was ready to talk after all.”
Alisha cocked her head. “So, then someone didn’t want him talking?”
“Maybe. I wonder what he knew…”
Alisha leaned back rocking in her console chair now. “Carol had history with him.”
“Well, she told us as much herself,” Joshua countered, also leaning back in his console chair as they mulled the situation.
After several moments of silence Alisha leaned up again and reactivated her screen that had dimmed out. “I wonder if this is just one of those things we’ll never know the full story about.”
“Maybe,” Joshua added, leaning forward conspiratorially. “But we have one more play.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Hans,” he said simply. “He’s one of us. We just need to get him drunk and ask him!”
Alisha sniggered, not really taking it seriously. “Sounds like a doable plan,” she told him. “But in the meantime, I’m going to get this finished and handed in.”
Joshua pushed himself off from his console chair. “Right you are then. But don’t stay too late. Make sure you get some proper rest.”
“I will,” she promised.
Joshua grabbed the jacket he had come back down for, and then ambled out of the darkened office, leaving Alisha on her own.
Bates Residence, Spire, Estaria
Carol arrived home to find Philip taking off his atmojacket. “You just got in?”
“Just now. Ordered up dinner, though.”
“Great. I’m starving!” She placed her gear on the hallway floor and took off her atmojacket.
Philip disappeared into the kitchen, calling back to her. “How about I get a bottle of something open and we can regroup and assess our next move.”
Carol paused. “Next move?”
“Yeah,” he called. “You don’t think this is over, do you?”
She sighed. “No. You’re right. Let me go change. I’ll be right there.”
She heard the cork pop out of the bottle. Just the sound of it lifted her spirits. She peeled her boots off and placed them on the boot rack before padding up the stairs.
When she re-emerged, she found Philip flicking through his holo messages in the sitting area. The bottle of wine stood invitingly on the mocha table, a glass already poured for her next to it. She took her place and picked up the glass, pushing her nose into it.
Philip looked up from his work, and glass in hand raised it to her. “To an operation well done, and a foe finally caught.”
She smiled. He understood what a big deal this was for her. She raised her glass back to him and then took a sip. She felt his eyes on her.
“What is it?” He asked.
She sighed, placing the glass back down, contemplating her response. She took a moment before she answered. “I heard over the comm that he was willing to tell us everything. He was going to give up the whole network. Everyone he’d ever worked for.”
Philip nodded, seemingly unaffected by her dilemma. “You think that we could have trusted any intel he gave us?”
She shrugged.
“At best, it would have been bogus. At worst it could have got agents killed.”
“You think he had traps in place?”
“A smart guy like that? Undoubtedly.”
“But if he was looking for a deal…”
Philip took another sip of wine and checked his holo. “I think it’s safe to say he was only trying to save his life. You made the right call. Did you handle the agent?”
She nodded. “Yes. She came to me afterward.”
“And she’s going to play ball?”
“I think so.”
“Good,” Philip concluded. He could see his wife wasn’t convinced. “Come on, we’ve been after him for decades. It’s far better he’s taken out of the picture than risk him getting out again.”
“You think he’d be able to escape?”
“I think the people he works for are powerful enough to disappear him and put him back on the streets.”
Carol took a deep breath, as if resigning herself to dropping the doubts she’d been battling with since the incident. “Well, probably for the best then. Though I would have liked to be able to trace this thing further up the chain.”
“Me too,” he agreed. “But we have agents sweeping his known safe houses and possessions for any shred of intel we can find. We might get lucky.”
“Here’s to getting lucky then,” she said, more brightly now. She winked at him. He grinned. Just then the doorbell buzzed.
“That will be the food!” he declared, jumping up and placing his glass carefully back on the mocha table. “You wanna eat here or at the kitchen counter?”
“Here!” she called after him. “I can’t move now…”
“Your wish is my command…” he called back, opening the front door.
Chapter 16
Aboard Skipum Wharf Space Station, Agresh Quadrant
The gang stood around the main corridor of the Leath ship by the cockpit.
“Ok, that’s the last of them,” Nickie declared, glancing smugly around the Sanguine Squadron who had effectively been kicking their heels since they disembarked The Empress just under an hour earlier.
The last of her ‘house-bots’ as she called them carried the final crates of weapons from the Leath ship.
“Good. Leath authorities will be here shortly,” Molly told her.
Bang bang bang.
The door to the cockpit rattled and reverberated.
“Angry old buggers, these Leath,” Nickie commented, nodding at the cockpit door.
“Something tells me they don’t like being confined to their own ships,” Molly muttered. “I wonder if they were able to communicate with the others before we breached.”
Nickie shook her head. “Nah. Meredith shut down their comm long before I launched the first missile. They’ve no idea what’s going on, or what kind of trouble they’re in.”
Molly chuckled. “That’ll be a nice surprise for them then when the authorities show up to take them into custody.”
“Love to be a fly on this wall,” Nickie said, patting the door of the cockpit before heading out down the main walkway. “Anyway,” she added, “speaking of, authorities aren’t my cuppa tea. Mind if I disappear?”
“Sure. Lemme walk you to your ship.” Molly clamped a hand down on Nickie’s shoulder.
Nickie glanced at the hand on her opposite shoulder and realized that this wasn’t a friendly escort. This was going to be a business conversation.
Sean and Karina watched from the docking bay as Nickie and Molly headed past them, following the last of Nickie’s crate-carrying house-bots.
Molly spoke into her holo. “Joel?”
“Yep?”
“I’m heading over to Nickie’s ship. Meet you back at The Empress in five. Have everyone ready to leave.”
“Acknowledged.”
She closed the holo connection and they kept walking. Molly waited until she’d put some distance between them and the crew before she spoke again.
“So, here’s the deal,” she said, in a serious but semi-friendly voice. “I’m putting my ass on the line letting you take these weapons. If these resurface anywhere and the Federation find out about them, and they will, I’m screwed.”
Nickie looked at her in protest, but Molly held up a hand silencing her.
“These weapons will not be seen again. Do you understand me?”
Nickie nodded.
“And if they are, and I get hauled over the coals, so-help-me-ancestors, I will hunt you down and rain hell on you. Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Nickie assured her before breaking out into a grin. “You know, you’re not so bad after all,” she beamed. “You talk my language, lady. We should work together again some time.”
Molly chuckled, despite the inference. “Not any time soon, I hope.”
“Yeah, yeah. You had a great time,” Nickie argued. “I can tell.”
They arrived at the dock where Nickie’s ship was waiting for her.
“Bye, Nickie,” Molly said, the banter subsiding. “Stay safe. And maybe make an effort to call in on your family some time. I’m sure that no matter what happened they’ll be pleased to hear from you.”
“Yeah. I’m sure,” she responded, strutting off after her newly acquired cargo. “Laterz, alligators!” She waved her hand, then glanced back over her shoulder with all the cockiness of youth and her artificial enhancements.
Molly shook her head, watching her leave. “Kids,” she muttered.
Aboard The Empress, Agresh Quadrant
“So? Any problems?” the General asked, noticing the rather public setting of their call in the cockpit.
Pieter and Brock sat behind Molly pretending to be working. Joel looked absorbed with the mapping console, but he too was probably just eavesdropping.
“No problems at all, sir,” Molly reported. “We left the Leath for their authorities to collect them. No serious injuries on either side and the weapons have been disposed of. Your friends are in the clear.”
Lance hesitated, about to correct her, but then thought better of it trying to explain himself in front of the others. “Very good,” he said instead, shoving the end of his cigar in his mouth.
He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Anything else I should know?”
Molly seemed to falter for only a brief moment. Then she made a deliberate thinking face. “I don’t think so…?”
The General paused, waiting to see if she was going to change her mind. She didn’t. “Okay. Good job, Bates – and team,” he added, glancing around at the others visible on screen in the cockpit. “Carry on.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
The call ended.
Joel immediately spun round in his console chair. “So, those weapons that you completely glossed over and gave to the girl who has some weird-ass relationship with the Federation. What is she going to do with them?”
Sean arrived in the cockpit just in time to answer the question, as if he’d been waiting for the conference call to finish. He plonked himself down in the console chair next to Joel. “Probably use them as bait. Lots more Skaines to clean up out in the western front.”
Molly and Joel looked at him.
“I’m guessing,” he said shrugging.
“You’re more than guessing,” Molly insisted this time. “What do you know?”
“Nothing. Specifically. She just reminds me of someone I used to know.”
Molly thought for a moment, replaying her long conversation with Nickie in the conference room back at the base. “Her Aunt Tabitha. You knew her.”
“Maybe,” he said, winking. Then, as if he’d only come to stir the pot of mystery and intrigue, and gloat that he knew more than they did, he stood up and strode back out of the cockpit leaving them wondering.
Molly shook her head and put her hands on her hips. She looked at Joel exasperated.
“I got nothing,” he confessed, chuckling.
Special Task Force Offices, Undisclosed location, Estaria
The following morning Director Bates strode into the meeting room from her office next door. As she entered the room her group of agents got to their feet. There were holoscreens out all over the table and presentation slides cued up on more than two agents’ holos.
“Greetings of the day, agents,” she addressed them, taking her seat at the head of the table and signaling they should sit too.
“We’ve had a win,” she started. “A very good win. Congratulations to all who were there. Every single one of you assisted in us taking this threat off the board, and you should all be very pleased with your performance.” Her eyes rested on Alisha. “All of you,” she reiterated.
“But the threat isn’t completely neutralized,” she continued. “This is a marathon, not a sprint. We still have the fixer out there somewhere, and Suedermann in custody. Our best intelligence tells us that they will still try and get to Suedermann.”
Joshua raised his hand. “Do we think that Sloth will try and come after him himself?”
Hans leaned forward and spoke up immediately. “Unlikely. We’ve never known him to do the killing himself. The clean-up, maybe.”
Carol flicked her holo and a slide showing various data arrays popped up on the presentation holo. “We’re running an analysis now. We’re going to find Sloth and bring him in. Alive if we can. He has intel on all the pieces of the puzzle and will be a great asset if we can turn him. There will be someone coming after Suedermann. We’re almost certain of that. So, for now he remains in a safe house known only to us.”
She paused looking around to see if anyone else had a comment on that piece of the briefing. “Ok. What else have we got?”
Soraya raised her hand, and then pulled up a presentation slide showing more data. “The system has come back online and has found some more data ties between Sneaky Steve and Sloth. We’re running them down for any possible location he might return to.”
Carol pointed to her. “Good. Good investigative work.” She looked around. ”Anything else we should all know about?”
There were no other hands. Clearly the agents were still scrambling to figure out what the next things were they needed to act on their threads of the investigations that were still open.
“Okay, one other point of business as we’re entering a transition stage between cases.” Her attention fell on Cleavon who had completely zoned out of the meeting. “Mr. Cleavon Baham.”
The Estarian jerked himself out of his daze, his eyes wide at being called upon unexpectedly. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Your activities haven’t gone unnoticed.” Carol’s voice was hard and commanding. Alisha stole a glance at Joshua to see if he knew what was coming. A pang of guilt rose within her. She’d been pulling Cleavon off the cases to help with their analysis. She’d put him in the cross-hairs. And here he was about to pay the price. She watched, like an observer being forced to watch a car accident.
Carol continued. “You did some excellent work back here at the base supporting your colleagues out in the field. No successful team is composed solely of superstars and front-runners. Effective teams have a range of talented people with different skills who know what they have to contribute and work like crazy to make sure that the team succeeds. You have been that person, Mr. Baham, and as a thank you I’d like to give you the opportunity to move over to Charlie team where you can continue to do the excellent work you’ve been doing without the obligations of field work.”
Alisha leaned over to Joshua. “They’re taking him out of the field?” she hissed. Joshua raised a finger from his hand resting on the table, telling her to hang on.
Cleavon’s face seemed to be a mix of emotions. After a moment he looked up at Carol and grinned. “Thank you, Director Bates. That’s fantastic news.” There was a sigh of relief in the meeting room and a small applause in congratulations. Rhodez who happened to be sitting to his left clamped him on the shoulder and congratulated him, and Cleavon managed to lock eyes with Alisha. He beamed at her and mouthed the word “thank you” with a thumbs-up.
Alisha felt her insides relax. It seemed he was genuinely pleased.
“Okay agents,” Carol called to them over the chatter. “You’ve done a good job. Spend the rest of today getting caught up with paperwork and plan your team’s next course of action. I want reports on my desk by the end of lunch, and we’ll debrief this evening with next steps. Dismissed.”
The agents in the room gathered up the various holoscreens they’d left out in case they needed them to justify what they had been doing. They folded away screens and notes on their holos, and with a clatter emptied out from the room.
Joshua caught up with Alisha at the bottom of the steps into the bullpen and pulled her to one side so they couldn’t be seen from the offices. “Hey,” he began, grabbing her gently by the elbow. “I take it from the fact that there were no other significant changes to our team that your report said exactly what she wanted it to say then?”
Alisha smiled, acknowledging the remark without saying anything. She noticed Cleavon walk past them down the aisle. “Hey, you know what? You still owe Cleavon drinks.”
Joshua started to roll his eyes.
“Hey, no,” she protested. “Fair is fair, we promised him. Now it looks like it’s a combined ‘welcome to the team’ deal.”
Her eyes rested on Hans who had already headed straight back to his console over the other side of the room. “I think this is also a perfect opportunity for us to get some answers from Mr. Elusive, too.”
Joshua followed her gaze. “Ok. You invite him. I’ll get Cleavon and Rhodez on board.”
Alisha put out her fist for him to bump her. He did, and the two parted, crossing paths to their relative marks as if choreographed in a music video.
Alisha kept Hans directly in her sights as she approached his console. “Hey,” she greeted him, as casually as she could. He glanced up briefly and then carried on his work. “Hey,” he acknowledged.
“I was wondering…” She paused, waiting for him to look up.
“Uh-huh?” He didn’t shift his gaze from his screen.
She continued. “We’re all going out for drinks later. You should join us.”
There was a long pause. Alisha stood her ground, looking directly at him as if willing him to respond. His eyes stopped scanning whatever it was he was reading. “Erm. Okay. It’ll have to be later though. I have a meeting at six.”
Alisha felt another wave of relief. She hated the thought of not even being able to persuade a teammate to come out with them. “Well, okay then,” she beamed. “We’ll be at the Admiral when you get done.”
Hans looked directly at her. “I’ll see you there then.”
Alisha wasn’t sure, but there was something in the way he looked at her. It was as if he was either onto her, or he was flirting. What really bugged her was that she couldn’t tell which. She gave him a quick smile and then strode away as confidently as she could.
Never let them see you squirm, she reminded herself from basic training in eliciting human intelligence.
She waited back at her console, pretending to get on with some work but replaying the moment over and over.
Meanwhile, across the bullpen, Joshua was weaving his part of the plan. “So Cleavon, we should do drinks tonight to thank you for all your hard work.”
Cleavon didn’t hesitate. “Awesome!” he responded straight away, the holoscreens on his wrist holo flickering and flashing all over the place, forgotten in his excitement. Rhodez turned to see what was going on.
“You should come too,” Joshua called over to him. “Admiral. Straight after we finish here.”
Rhodez thought for a moment before agreeing. He pushed back in his antigrav console chair. “Oh, what the heck. I can get this lot finished tomorrow. I’m in.”
“Excellent,” Joshua said, walking back to his desk, reveling in the sense of accomplishment that went with a good set up. Phase 1 complete.
Alisha gave him a thumbs-up as he approached. He returned it as discreetly as he could. The plan was afoot.
The Admiral, Spire, Estaria
The bar was a hub of activity. It was as if everyone in the nearby buildings had all gotten the idea of coming for an after-work drink at the same time.
Alisha pushed her way through the hordes of workers, trying not to lose sight of Rhodez and Joshua ahead of her. Cleavon was following her, and Hans was still in his meeting when they left the office.
“Alisha! What are you drinking?” Rhodez asked.
“Vino for me,” she told him. “Thanks!”
Rhodez asked the same question of Cleavon and sent them both to try and find a table where they could stake out their claim. Alisha led the way and eventually found a tall table without seating. At least they’d be able to put their drinks down, she reasoned, as she stood by it, ready to defend it against anyone who might challenge them.
Cleavon had been chatting away over the noise for several minutes. She nodded politely, trying to hear, but really only understanding about fifty percent of what he was saying.
Eventually the other two showed up carrying their valiantly acquired drinks.
“I propose a toast,” Joshua started. “A toast to our new team member Cleavon.” He raised his glass, and the others followed suit. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for us already, and welcome to being an official part of our motley crew.”
They all cheered and congratulated Cleavon. At one point Alisha was sure he had a tear in his eye. She already knew what it meant to him to be accepted and valued. She was glad they’d made the right call bringing him on board and then celebrating him.
“So, Alisha,” Rhodez leaned in just a little too cozily. “Are you seeing anyone?”
Alisha froze. She knew exactly where this was going. It was almost as if it was an impossibility to go out for drinks with co-workers and for it to be purely a co-worker or platonic thing. She sighed and gave him the look. “Really? The first time we end up in a bar together, after a serious moment of team bonding, and that’s what you want to ask me?”
Rhodez felt his face flush. “I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
Alisha rolled her eyes. “It’s fine.”
Chapter 17
Base conference room, Gaitune-67
It was early evening on Gaitune, and Arlene had brought Ben’or up to Gaitune for a debrief and a tour of the facility. The reasoning she had pitched to Molly was that he’d already helped them so much that he was clearly trustworthy, and having been on a mission with them he had already known about a chunk of the secret Federation technology for months and kept it to himself.
Molly had agreed, but had Oz complete a full risk assessment without letting anyone else know.
Now, seated in the base conference room with him across from her, she couldn’t help but think she had been silly. There was something about his relaxed manner and sage-like wisdom that put everyone at ease. She could see what Arlene saw in him, and why he was such a good diplomat.
The meeting had already been called to order by Gareth Jones who was patched in over an advanced holoconnection. He had no idea where they all were. The connection that Oz and ADAM had engineered in the beginning between Estaria and Gaitune made it look like they could be somewhere on the planet and talking with him.
Paige and Maya sat down one side of the conference table to Molly’s left, and Gareth’s image sat in the middle of the table able to face each of them at the same time.
Gareth announced the good news. “Well, folks. It looks like we’ve done it. The university will live to fight another semester.”
There was applause in the room. He continued. “We had official word today that the results of the investigation were found to be erroneous. Someone made an administrative mistake, and in light of funding cuts they’re going to drop any further investigation.”
Molly looked around the small team and relished the smiling faces. “This was indeed a win. Well done folks,” she added. “Ben’or, we appreciate you coming in and giving us the saving guidance right at our eleventh hour. Your input is very much appreciated.”
“Gareth,” she said, turning to the screen. “You and your legal team have worked tirelessly to keep our survival a possibility. You have our eternal gratitude. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”
Gareth nodded, a little embarrassed by the appreciation. “Just doing the right thing,” he muttered, smiling secretly.
“Arlene, your dedication to the Academy has been second to none. I know this started as a cover for you, but everything you’ve done to help us stay open has been very much appreciated. Thank you.”
Arlene nodded, also blushing a little now.
“Paige and Maya. I don’t know where we would have been without you two. And honestly? I don’t know where you each find the time to do everything that you do, on top of your normal workload. Your leadership on this issue has been inspiring, and I’m so grateful to you.”
“Anytime,” Paige said.
Maya grinned. “You’re welcome. Though, I think we need the morning off tomorrow.”
Molly cocked her head not quite understanding.
“So we can celebrate tonight,” she clarified.
“Oh. Yes, of course,” Molly laughed. “Absolutely! You’ve earned it.”
Molly went back to addressing everyone in the group. “I know you’ve all called in favors and it’s cost you social collateral. I want you to know how much we… I, appreciate everything you’ve done.”
Paige leaned forward in her seat raising her hand from the table. “You know, we should have a celebratory party for everyone who helped us. It would be nice to thank them personally.”
She and Maya exchanged a knowing look.
Gareth interjected. “I’m not sure if some of our contacts want to be drawn into something like that.” He stuttered a little bit as he processed his thoughts. “Others knowing about their involvement. However. I think that is a lovely idea.”
Molly grinned. “Paige, even you couldn’t possibly take on planning something else at this stage. Not on top of everything else you’re doing.”
“Maybe I could get someone to help?” she suggested, turning her head to Maya, whose eyes lit up.
“I would be thrilled to,” Maya enthused. She then mouthed the words ‘thank you’ to Paige.
Molly shrugged. “Sure. If Maya’s up for it, we’ll clear some budget for it.”
There was some spontaneous chatter amongst the group for a few moments before normal business resumed. Gareth had a few things they needed to be aware of, and then Molly let the others in on a few of the moving parts they had to grease in order to make sure the investigation was dropped.
She told them it was important that they had an idea, just in case there were other signs of anything resurfacing or coming back to bite them.
She talked a little about transparency and the balance between that and keeping certain things classified. Oz agreed to act as point on any future threats that they flagged so he could make the assessment as to what was disseminated, and then after a few other comments the meeting was wrapped.
“And again, thank you, everyone!” Molly applauded. “I’ll get in touch with Mom and thank her for her part too. I’ll look forward to seeing you at the party, if not before.”
Gareth signed off on the conference call and the others started to move.
Arlene took Ben’or by the arm. “How about we head out for dinner. Just the two of us?”
Ben’or patted her hand on his arm. “I think that’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.”
Arlene raised her eyebrows. “This coming from the diplomat who has been in strategy calls with his people all day.”
Ben’or leaned down to whisper to her. “Exactly,” he agreed. “So, Pods?”
Arlene flashed him her enigmatic smile. “How about we visit one of the places here on Gaitune.”
“Oh, of course…you used to live here.”
“Yes. A long while,” she agreed. “So I know all the best places on this tiny rock.”
The pair headed down the side of the meeting room toward the door.
“I think I’ll see what everyone else is up to and put a food order in too,” Paige started saying to Maya.
Molly interrupted Maya from responding. “Maya, have you got a second?”
Maya froze.
Paige was already almost out of the door and looked back to see what was happening. Molly caught her eye and Paige took it as a sign to wait for Maya outside. She slipped out of the door behind Ben’or and Arlene and disappeared from view.
“I’ll catch you up,” Maya called out to her. She hovered by the end of the table, around the corner from where Molly was still sitting. “What’s up?” she asked.
Molly gave her a suspicious look. “What are you up to?” she asked bluntly.
Maya smiled sweetly. “Planning a party now it seems.”
“I don’t buy it.”
Maya narrowed her eyes at Molly as if she were trying to suss out her line of questioning. “What’s not to buy?”
Molly leaned back in her seat, closing her remaining open holoscreen. “Once an investigative journalist, always an investigative journalist,” she said cryptically.
Maya’s smile relaxed as if she had just been caught in a lie. “Okay, you got me. Paige and I were talking earlier, and we just figured that more intel is better than less. It would be interesting to get some of these people into a room and talk to them. Not interrogate them, but just put faces to names, press some flesh. You know.”
Molly nodded, her lips turned up in approval. “Smart move,” she said. She stood up.
“So that means I can? You’re okay with it?”
“Of course, I am. You and Paige are the best damn investigators that I’ve ever known. I’m blessed to have you on my team, and I’m thrilled you’re taking the initiative. You go for it. Be discreet. Try not to piss any of these contacts off, and let me know if you need anything.”
Maya looked so excited Molly wasn’t sure if she was about to explode. “Brilliant!” Maya said, in her best archaic accent.
Even Molly had to snigger. She wondered if she had reserved that word just for her, given her obsession with the ancient Earth shows of the little island with the funny accent.
Maya grinned. “Thanks, Molly. I’ll keep you in the loop.”
“I’ll appreciate that,” Molly replied, giving her the nod that she was dismissed.
Maya trotted out of the room and started chattering to a hovering Paige as soon as she got into the corridor.
Molly sighed happily to herself, listening to them go. Ancestors only knew what she had done to deserve to have such great people around her, but if she ever found out, she’d never stop doing it.
Special Task Force Offices, Undisclosed location, Estaria
Carol, Philip, and Hans sat in the meeting room waiting for the last of the department’s agents to leave the bullpen for the night. Carol closed the door to the meeting room as Hans sat down placing a bug detector on the table.
“Are we good?” she asked.
He nodded. “We’re good.”
“Let’s get to it then.” She pulled up a holoscreen with some of the elements the task force had been working on over the past weeks. “We need to find their plan. Whatever it is that these incidents are a part of, we need to figure it out and bring a stop to it.”
Hans and Philip watched in silence.
Carol leaned on the table. Her eyes burned with an intensity Hans had never seen before. “We need to figure out what the big picture is.”
Philip was leaning back in his chair, with one hand on the table next to him. He turned his hand over, in a shrug like fashion. “How?”
“Well I think we need to start with what each of these positions has in common?” she explained.
Hans jumped straight in. “All positions that could influence the decisions in a department. But we knew that already.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “So what do the departments have in common? Or what use would they serve?”
Hans started plotting it out on the presentation holoscreen, moving the elements and images around from his holo as the Director and his mentor looked on.
“Robert Califray,” he started. “He’s our guy who disappeared on holiday. He worked in the Department of Logistics. This is the department that maintains near space satellites which are used for far communications systems.” He added some notes to the board and pulled the department details to the fore.
“Then we have the Department of Near Space Communications. Malone Houston was at the Department of Off-World Logistics. This department controls outer space satellites. It’s government-owned.”
Philip shifted in his seat. “I’ve never understood why this wasn’t under the military. They’d be far better funded to manage it.”
Hans nodded. “I agree. But it seems that they’re forced to liaise with the military because occasionally they need them. Eventually they will be transferred to a military operation.”
Carol jumped in. “Yes. There’s been a bill presented on it a number of times, but it’s been delayed each time.”
“I guess,” Philip started saying slowly, formulating his thinking as he spoke, “if you wanted to influence the military or affect that network in some way, it would be easier if it were an underfunded municipal department rather than a military operation. Maybe that was why Houston was replaced?”
Hans switched the material up on the screen to reflect their working theory as it was evolving. He put word military on there too.
Carol took over listing out their remaining targets. “Then we have Goran Suedermann, our at-risk person at the Division of Holo Crimes. What do we know about this place?”
Philip shrugged one shoulder. “Well, it’s a pseudo law enforcement department. It keeps the network safe from scams. You know, data protection, malware, et cetera.”
“And Ms. Dorota Carpe,” Carol continued. “Head of Cyber Communications, who oversees regulation of public communications.”
She stared at the details on the board, tapping a finger to her lips as she thought. “Something isn’t making sense.”
Hans added some text to the display. “Hang on. This department is also responsible for the infrastructure of the holo network. They maintain the servers and relays for the whole planet.”
Carol took a deep breath. “So what’s the pattern?”
“Well,” Philip said, standing up. “If you wanted to control significant aspects of the planet, and the decision making with big things as it relates to our interactions with other planets, then these are probably the most significant points to control. You can control outgoing communications, domestic communications. Media, too.”
Carol took over. “As well as military ships if you were able to feed them false intel. I believe, gentlemen, we’re getting a picture of what our friends at the Northern clan are planning.”
Philip sat back down, his eyes fixed firmly on the screen in front of him. “Something big is coming. This feels like a preparation.”
“Preparation for what though?” Hans asked.
Carol looked at the slides, her face as serious as even Philip had ever seen it. “Preparation for war.”
There was a long silence in the meeting room.
Eventually Carol spoke. “Think about it. If you were waging war with an outside force these positions would allow you to control everything you needed to.”
“You mean someone beyond the Sark System?” Philip interjected.
“Exactly.”
“Well who?” he asked, his face gaunt and pale now. “The Federation?”
“Perhaps.”
“But the Federation would kick our asses,” Hans remarked seriously.
Carol spoke faster as she started to put it all together. “Not if there were allies waiting in the wings. Lance was onto this. He gave us the tips. He must know something, and whatever he planned he’ll have the Federation’s wellbeing at heart.”
Hans’s eyes lit up with the realization. “So you think that by thwarting whatever is going on here he’s actually protecting the Federation.”
“Exactly. Else why bother?”
The Admiral, Spire, Estaria
The rest of the evening went by without incident, and eventually Hans showed up. By that time most of the end-of-day workforce had drunk their fill and left, on account of them having lives and homes to go to.
Alisha stood up from the booth they’d acquired as the crowd had thinned. “Hans Duo! You’re looking way too sober!” she insisted. “Let me get you a drink.”
Hans joined her at the bar and they ordered some more drinks. “Allow me,” he told her, paying for the drinks. They took their full glasses to the next booth along from the others and sat down.
“So, I heard you shot a bad guy,” Hans started.
Alisha watched him as she took a sip of her wine. “I could say the same,” she said coyly.
Hans allowed himself a half smile. “Well, I guess we don’t have any secrets then.”
Alisha didn’t comment. She realized there was no point in pushing it. To ask him questions about it would only weaken her standing in the interaction.
Instead, she did what any effective operative would do in a standoff: she changed the subject. “So, what was your meeting about to keep you from our company for so long?”
“Codeword-Classified.”
She glared at him playfully. “I hope this isn’t how all our conversations are going to go tonight, else things are going to be pretty dull.”
“You know there are things I can’t tell you, just as there are things you can’t tell me.”
She sighed, placing her drink down deliberately on the table. “So what can you tell me?”
“Well,” he smiled, looking past her. “I can tell you that Cleavon has a crush on you, though he doesn’t know it yet.”
“What do you mean he doesn’t know it yet?”
“He hasn’t registered it consciously, but he keeps looking over at you. Even when we were at the bar.”
Alisha sighed. “Okay, tell me something interesting. Not about boys.”
He paused. “The Director has her eye on you for promotion.”
“Promotion? We just got here.”
Hans smiled sagely over his glass. “The grooming has already begun, though. You’re dedicated. You take your job seriously, and it’s clearly being noticed.”
“What on Estaria makes you think that?”
“I told you, I pay attention.”
Alisha noticed that Hans had drunk about half of his beer by this point. Not enough to spill state secrets, but maybe enough to loosen him up a touch. “And what about your career? You’re always off doing things separate from the rest of us, with your secret meetings with the Director after the main meetings. What are you up to?”
He shrugged. “Just doing my job.”
“Which is?”
He glanced off into the crowd. She had him. “The same as you,” he responded.
“Not the same as me,” she told him firmly.
“Pretty much the same as you.”
“You’re very good at not giving anything away.”
He shrugged again. “We were all taught the same techniques.”
“Yet we all ended up with different skills, doing different missions.”
“I guess. So tell me, what does Alisha Montella do on her days off?”
“Changing the subject,” she remarked. “I see how this is.”
“I can’t tell you all my secrets on a first date.” He was trying to distract her, she noted.
“This is a date?”
“Do you want it to be?”
“Again with the answering questions with questions.”
“That’s what you get when you date a spy.”
Alisha nodded, quietly absorbing the checkmate she was advancing toward.
He kept talking to her. “You know that look?”
“What look?”
“The look you have right now. I’ll bet that’s the same look you put a lot of guys through when you talk your way around them.”
“I don’t—”
“You do,” he insisted firmly. “You have a way of keeping people at arm’s length while letting them think that you’re being friendly.”
Alisha said nothing.
“Nothing? Well, I never thought I’d see the day the great Alisha Montella had nothing to say. I should take this down as a noteworthy date in my calendar. You need another drink.” He got up and headed to the bar again.
Joshua and Rhodez showed up at their booth. “Everything okay?” Joshua asked.
Alisha exhaled, frustrated, and pushed back in her seat. “Yeah. All fine.”
Joshua leaned in. “You working on the, um...”
She nodded.
“Okay. Well, look, Cleavon has had too much to drink, so we’re going to get him back to one of our places. You sure you’re going to be okay with Hans?”
She sat up to whisper to him. “I’m still working him. He’s only one drink in.”
Joshua grinned as if it were all just a game. “Okay. Good luck.” He hesitated a moment. “Be careful he doesn’t end up working you.”
Alisha grinned. “I will,” she said with a tone of determination. “He’s getting nothing out of me.”
She waved at Rhodez propping up Cleavon just behind Joshua. He grinned and waved back. “See you at work tomorrow,” he called over.
She leaned past him to address their newest team member. “Yeah. Plenty of water before you sleep, Cleavon!”
He gave her a thumbs-up and then, propped up between Rhodez and Joshua, he was escorted out.
A moment later Hans arrived back from the bar carrying a glass of wine and glass of beer. “They’re leaving?”
“Yeah. Cleavon’s had enough and they want to make sure he’s safe.”
Hans smiled. “So they’re leaving you to continue grilling me about my secret off-book missions?”
Alisha tried not to show too much enthusiasm. “Ah, so you’re ready to talk then?”
He silently handed her the new glass of wine without answering her question, and they clinked glasses.
Chapter 18
Base Conference Room, Gaitune-67
Molly sat in the conference room, finishing up some work.
The lights in the corridor beyond had gone off long ago, and it was just Molly’s body temperature that was telling the conference room that there was someone still in there because her movements on her holo barely registered with the motion sensors at all.
It’s getting late to call your Mom, Oz reminded her.
Shit. Okay. Patch me through.
A new holoscreen opened from the center of the table and folded out as a three-dimensional cube ahead of her. The setting was still on for it to display in the center of the table rather than the wall.
The call connected and the life-like, life-sized image of Carol Bates appeared in front of her. She felt a weird resistance in her stomach to have her so real in front of her after so many years of not communicating with her at all.
“Hi, Mom,” she started.
Carol was clearly still at work, if the plain walls of her windowless office behind her were anything to go by.
Carol tried to smile. It didn’t suit her. “Ah, you’re back.”
“What do you mean, ‘back?’”
“You’ve been out of the system.”
“You talked to Paige?”
“I didn’t need to. My agents were trying to run advanced analysis and kept reporting that the boosted component was down.”
Molly bobbed her head, understanding now. “So you knew that Oz wasn’t within range.”
“They didn’t make me a spy for no reason.” She smiled again.
“I see that.”
“So, what was the mission?” Carol asked, trying to sound more Mom-like and less director-of-the-spy-agency. Molly noticed it was hard for her. Rigid, almost. She wondered briefly how she managed when she had been out in the field. How could she have persuaded assets and put them enough at ease to turn them? How could this woman have infiltrated anywhere?
Her people skills reminded her of…well, of her own.
“Mom, you know I can’t tell you.”
“It was a Reynolds special, wasn’t it?”
“Mom!”
“Ah ha! It was. Well, I hope for your sake it went well.”
Some people had their Moms grilling them about where they’d been and who they’d been out with. My Mom grills me about classified missions. Some dynamics just can’t be skipped.
Indeed. Maybe she’s just showing an interest.
No. She just wants to know. She’s still obsessed with her little vendetta against the General.
At least they’re on the same team now.
Small mercies.
“Mom, he only has the good of the Federation at heart,” Molly insisted out loud.
“I know, that’s what worries me. I care about my daughter.”
Molly raised her eyebrows skeptically. “Which is why you remained in active service while I grew up.”
Carol’s face darkened. “You were perfectly safe,” she insisted firmly.
“Knowing what I know now, I think that term is relative.”
“What are you saying?”
“Nothing.”
“Clearly something. Come on. Are you saying I was a bad mother?”
“No. I’m saying that if I really was as important as you’re making out in comparison to Lance Reynolds’ priorities, maybe you wouldn’t have let me feel so guilty all this time for what happened when you and Dad were taken.”
Carol seemed a little less in control all of a sudden. “I told you it wasn’t your fault.”
“Did you? Did you really?” Molly could feel the anger rising in her chest. She fought it to stay calm. The last thing she wanted was to get all upset now. There were more important things to discuss.
Carol’s voice broke a little as she spoke. “Of course I did. I sat you down and I said that they were bad men that took us.”
“But it was my fault the bad men showed up. I didn’t have any context.”
“So is that why you called me? To tell me what a shit mother I’ve been to you?”
“No. Actually. I called you to say thank you for doing a great job in saving the University.”
There was an awkward silence on the line. Carol shifted in her seat. “Oh. You’re welcome. Like I said, I wanted to do right by you and I knew how important that place is to you.”
“And I appreciate it,” Molly said, the emotion gone from her voice now.
Carol hesitated before broaching the next subject. “There’s something else you should be aware of though, Molly.”
I always get nervous when she uses my name.
I can see why…
“What’s that?”
Carol leaned forward on her desk, her arms folded in front of her. “For the last couple of weeks, your grad students have been running down leads where people have been removed from specific positions of power.”
“Yeah, I’ve been getting the reports.”
“What I’m about to tell you isn’t in a report. We only figured it out an hour ago. Something’s coming. Lance knew it. That’s why he brought me into the fold.”
“What is it?”
“You’re not going to like it.”
Aboard The Penitent Granddaughter, Agresh Quadrant
Nickie paced up and down the grated walkway of the bridge. Grim watched her, his head feeling dizzy going back and forth again and again. He started to say something, but then thought better of it.
“Anything?” Nickie demanded.
No one responded.
“Meredith!” she called, lifting her voice to the intercom as if Meredith didn’t already hear her every thought.
“Hang on. I may have something,” Meredith told her calmly.
Nickie continued to pace.
Grim couldn’t contain his comment. “You know, you’re going to wear that walkway out,” he said, immediately regretting it.
“Well, as soon as Meredith locates our lost Skaine ship we’ll be on our way and I won’t have to wait so attentively.”
Grim sighed, relaxing back in the chair he’d perched on. “At least they let us take the weapons, so we can track down the Skaines.”
“True,” she conceded, stopping in her tracks, her hands now on her hips. “But what are the odds? Middle of fucking nowhere and I run into these people.” She shook her head, genuinely flummoxed. “I just can’t believe it was an accident.”
“No, the likelihood does seem pretty remote,” Grim confessed.
“Unless the Federation is onto me.”
Meredith interrupted. “Unlikely,” she said. “They made the agreement. You had seven years.”
“Yeah, but you’re all activated and everything. Are you telling me you haven't transmitted my location?”
Meredith’s voice remained steady. “I think we need to focus on what’s happening right now.”
Nickie’s eyes narrowed, and Grim could see the frustration in her eyes. “Meredith, that’s not answering the question.”
“Well, yes,” Meredith confirmed. “Technically you are traceable. But only intermittently, and they’d need to want to find you and be paying attention to get a lock on you. But with the way you left things, they have no reason to be looking for you.”
Nickie huffed and sat down in the pilot’s seat. “But those Federation-bunnies knew so much.”
Grim notice her anger deflate into something else. “They made you miss home?”
Nickie’s face relaxed some more, as if she was surrendering to what she was really feeling. “Made me miss Aunt Tabitha,” she confessed.
Grim shuffled in his chair, his back legs uncomfortably hanging down the side of the seat. “Well given the remote chances of this happening, and the way it happened, some civilizations might call what you experienced fate.”
She frowned, distracted. “What d’you mean?”
He shrugged, his eyes soft with empathy. “Well, maybe there was a reason you ended up reconnecting with some part of the old family. That’s all.”
There was a moment of silence. Grim tried to formulate something else to say to her. Something that might help her face her anger. Something that could help ease the pain she still clung to like a candle she kept burning for loved ones long gone but not forgotten.
“Okay. I need a drink,” she declared, her tone hardening. She stood up, her boots clunking on the metal floor. “Meredith, lemme know when you have something we can work on.” She strode across the bridge and headed out into the ship.
Grim shuffled awkwardly off the chair, stretching his body that had started to stiffen up. As soon as he could he followed her out, hitting the open door button just as the door had started to close behind her.
“I will,” Meredith said to the empty room. “I will.”
Chapter 19
Game Server, Base, Gaitune-67
Bourne and Oz lurked in the server they’d partitioned off for the purposes of the latest craze that had hit the Gaitune gamers: Massively Multiplayered Role Playing Game, specifically Space Orcs vs Solari.
“You know,” Bourne mused, “there’s nothing wrong with a little bit of scene-setting while we wait. So we’ll be ready when they all log on.”
“I suppose that’s not entirely unreasonable,” Oz agreed carefully, already generating Non-Player Characters, NPCs, and the space station around them. It was a multi-leveled behemoth of a station, every inch of it made of gleaming chrome and neon lights.
“I mean, it beats looking through the archives for another six hours,” Bourne carried on, half of the NPCs taking the shape of the Solari faction. The Solaris displayed as thinly-disguised space elves with silver skin and armor that was intricate to the point of being impractical. “And we could try out some new tactics!” he added enthusiastically.
“I already agreed,” Oz pointed out as the other half of the NPCs took the shape of the Um’Mal faction; quintessential space orcs. They looked like the aftermath of a pair of comets meeting at high speed before tumbling into mismatched armor.
The faction leaders took form on the central platform as their armies sprang into existence throughout the space station. Terminals started sparking, windows and walls cracked, and laser fire began to fly through the air as the last details of set dressing appeared.
The Um’Mal leader let out a ferocious war cry like a meteor breaking a planet’s atmosphere and lunged. A bubble shield burst into life around the Solari leader and sent the orc flying aside.
Below their platform, the rest of the station erupted into chaos; the chaos of two AIs battling it out in terrain that their friends the humans would never even see.
Base Workshop, Gaitune-67
“So, that was a clusterf—“
“We handled it.” Crash cut Pieter’s complaint off before he could finish. “We can handle the debriefing later and—…and no one is listening to me,” he added to himself as Brock and Sean stampeded past him to the workshop.
Pieter gave him a consolatory pat on the back before loping after them with Joel at his side, leaving Crash to take up the rear at a more sedate pace.
By the time he arrived in the workshop, there was a trail of discarded gear across the floor and the space was humming with life. Sean and Brock were already moving the couch into place. It was an old, battered relic, originally a grimy beige and red tartan, though it had been patched in about fourteen other types of fabric as life gradually wore it to pieces. It probably should have been replaced half a lifetime ago, but the last time anyone had suggested such a thing Pieter and Brock had both acted as if someone were threatening to drown a puppy. Paige had put the new sofas elsewhere in the workshop, but she realized they were probably never going to be used.
Sean and Brock stopped once the couch was facing the largest stretch of flat, clear wall in the workshop. When Crash stepped farther into the room he hit the light switch reflexively, plunging the workshop into dim blue-gray light; dark save for the various monitors and equipment in the room. At least until Pieter turned on the holoscreen, the light of an unused channel spilling over the wall in front of the couch and casting everyone in stark silver.
Joel turned the gaming console on almost as an afterthought before he dropped onto the couch, slumping down into the cushions as the silver light was replaced by the 3D multicolored logo and overly chipper jingle of the console’s startup routine. He held his hands out to accept the controller and Brock handed it to him, but before Brock could sit down himself Sean vaulted over the back of the couch and usurped his space. Brock spared only a moment to look affronted before sidestepping to take the next seat over.
With a grin that stretched nearly wide enough to split his face, Pieter hip-checked Brock out of the way and sat down, followed almost immediately by Crash dropping into the last available seat.
Brock scowled theatrically and planted his hands on his hips for a moment before he threw his hands up in exasperation, sharply at odds with the soothing menu music that had replaced the startup tune.
“C’mon,” he groused, even as he turned away to collect the rest of the controllers. He passed them out with the air of a pouting puppy before he finally took the only seat still available to him: the floor in front of the overly crowded couch, his back against Crash’s legs.
Crash set his gaming controller down on top of Brock’s head in much the same way as one might use a coffee table. Brock couldn’t even bring himself to protest.
It was a disarmingly homey corner, almost at odds with the rest of the high tech of the workshop—the rest of the base as a whole—but soon enough most of them would break the quiet to start jeering at each other and it would fit together with the rest of the loud, bright puzzle pieces that made up the base.
Game Server, Base, Gaitune-67
On the planet Velmark a hurricane battered a temporary colony, sending everyone within it running in every direction as they tried to batten down the hatches before the power went out. Waves crashed on beaches of coal and diamond dust and the wind tore at the prefabricated buildings as if the storm was trying to sweep the entire colony away, regardless of the people running around like an army of ants inside the walls.
Pirates boarded a cargo cruiser in the Perseus arm of the galaxy, shouting back and forth to each other as they spread throughout the ship and took all that they pleased, gathering up everything that looked valuable and leaving nothing in their wake. They left the cruiser a drifting wreck when they were done; ransacked and empty of the crew it had once held, and just waiting to be stumbled upon at some point in the future.
A duo of scout corvettes cruised low through the atmosphere of a desert world, weaving through windswept bands of red and gold sand as they just barely stayed ahead of the storm building behind them. Lightning arced through the flying sand and wind buffeted the corvettes like flies in a tornado, and the cockpits were filled with chatter as the pilots tried to coordinate with each other even though the storm’s interference rendered much of what they said unintelligible with glitching static. Soon enough the storm caught up with them both, spinning them in every direction and pelting the cockpits with sand, gravel, and the occasional rock the size of a fist.
A stampede of massive deer-like anterons trampled a field flat on the planet of Wybesal, herded toward a water trap by a trio of rednecks on jury-rigged speeders. They whooped and hollered and shouted back and forth to each other as the herd galloped closer and closer to the trap and the pasture that sprawled beyond it, and the air was filled with the anterons’ trumpeting and shrieking. An older beast tripped and fell, and in single file every anteron that might have tripped on it instead leapt right over it until it struggled back to its feet and resumed running.
Two people on one planet, seven on another, a crew of dozens in a ship out in dark space, crowds of thousands in a space station filled with refugees as a colony fell out of orbit, and countless other people in countless other places, until the game world buzzed with simulated life.
“What else can we do?” Bourne wondered. Reshaping a digital world was not too difficult a task when one was a digital being who had initially been programmed for much more taxing things. It was a bit like playing at the seashore, seeing what could be made before the ocean rushed up and swept it all away in a fit of pique. “What about mercenaries?” he mused. “I suppose that wouldn’t be so different from pirates, though.”
“Mercenaries are being paid,” Oz replied reasonably. “Pirates pay themselves after the fact.”
“That is a very polite way of phrasing it,” Bourne returned, almost as if he admired the phrasing. “Oh, you know, there was a thing I saw in the archives… I mean, I saw a lot of things in the archives, but this one seemed cool and we could probably do something like that. It wouldn’t be too difficult to pull off…”
In a gleaming city that seemed to consist mostly of glass and chrome spires, a man in a mirrored cloak aimed a crossbow straight at a window. It should have been bullet proof, but that didn’t mean much to the concussive crossbow bolt that smashed through it a moment later. The man dashed through the broken glass with all the grace of a cat, and once inside he began gathering as many of the possessions of the clearly wealthy inhabitants as he could until his bags and his arms were full.
Just in the nick of time as it turned out (since he could hear sirens steadily getting closer), he absconded out the same window he had used to get in, holding his treasures close. He knew quite a few people who needed it more.
“I’m pretty sure he was actually fictional,” Oz pointed out, slightly dubious as the scene unfolded even as he sent the police after the thief.
Bourne scoffed, making his opinion on that statement very clear. “So?”
* * *
Brock made an aggravated noise as his avatar jittered in place, locking up halfway through the animation to swap out a weapon. It took almost a full minute before his avatar finally managed to complete the movement, but the pistol he grabbed was less of a gun and more just a floating cartridge before the rest of the model abruptly snapped into existence.
“Hey, Oz?” Crash called. His own avatar jogged in place before abruptly lurching forward several paces, where it then repeated the performance as if the act of running was suddenly too difficult for it to comprehend.
It continued running in place for several seconds after Crash gave up trying to go anywhere.
He got no response from the AI, and he sighed in quiet irritation before letting it go.
Steadily the games graphics degraded until Sean scoffed, “I could do better than this with my damn holocomm.” As if to punctuate his words, his armor vanished for a split second before popping back into place as if nothing had happened.
The draw distance shrank until they could all scarcely see more than a few meters in every direction around their avatars; everything beyond those few meters was a white void. Even then, the merchant standing to Pieter’s left was still reduced to nothing but a set of floating teeth, partially rendered hair, and disembodied eyes before the rest of the model finally managed to render back into existence, the detail so low that its polygons were almost visible and its facial features were nearly flat.
Joel cocked his head to one side and contemplated the screen where a text box opened and closed repeatedly as he tried to end a conversation with an NPC. He pressed every button on the controller and jiggled the joysticks and finally the text box closed, only for his avatar to immediately get launched into the air—so high up that the map vanished, and he just kept going higher. Even once he started falling, it took a few seconds for his avatar to start flailing appropriately.
“Huh,” he observed flatly, his expression bemused. His avatar fell for a full thirty seconds before dying on impact with the ground. “Well, that was something.”
Joel tried to respawn and everything froze. He pressed a few buttons. Sean jiggled the joysticks. Crash gave his controller a shake. Pieter reached over and tapped the console.
Nothing happened; the game remained frozen.
The graphics flashed a few times and a few notes of the background music managed to come through, mixed oddly with a few mangled lines of idle NPC dialogue. And then the map disappeared entirely, leaving a few disconnected pieces of architecture floating in a white void. Nothing else happened at all after that.
“Oz?” Joel called, hoping that the first failure to get the AI’s attention had just been a fluke.
Unfortunately, after a rather pregnant pause he still received no answer. Taking a different tack, he tried, “Bourne?” instead and waited expectantly, his eyebrows rising as the silence drew longer.
When he didn’t get an answer from Bourne either, he sighed and reached over to reset the console.
“Seriously, what are they doing?” Brock asked, his expression twisting with confusion as he rubbed the back of his head with one hand. The vibrantly colored nails of his other hand tapped against his beer in an aimless pattern, his currently useless controller abandoned in his lap.
* * *
Without any warning, both Bourne and Oz found themselves booted out of the server as it shut down. They were midway through a police chase as every local squadron pursued the members of a smuggling ring through the air over the crystalline city of Amestria, and it all ground to a halt just as it was getting to the good part. Just as the chase fumbled into oncoming traffic, sending hover cars and personal ships lurching out of the way as they were lit with multicolored police lights, everything abruptly vanished. The silence afterwards was nearly deafening.
For a moment neither of them did anything.
Then they each rapidly ran a set of maintenance scans, just to make sure the problem hadn’t been on their end. When all of the scans came back clean and clear, they probed curiously at the server once again. They were greeted with a canned maintenance message in the form of a tiny spaceman holding up a sign that said, We’re sorry, the server is undergoing maintenance right now. Thank you for your patience!
Finally Bourne wondered, “You don’t suppose we took it a little too far, do you?”
He tested the server again, giving a pleased, “Oh!” when he found himself back in the game. “Never mind, we’re fine. I suppose they just rebooted it.”
“We should maybe take that as a sign,” Oz suggested, though he didn’t seem particularly stern. Bourne seemed disinclined to acknowledge his words.
* * *
“Aaand we’re live!” Pieter cheered as the game restarted, pumping the hand holding his beer into the air and nearly spilling it on Sean’s knees. “Whoops.”
“Second time’s the charm?” Brock suggested cautiously, picking his controller back up. “C’mon, let’s just stick together this time,” he wheedled. “Maybe it won’t all implode if we aren’t all spread out.”
“That wasn’t how it worked,” Sean groused, but he didn’t actually offer a protest. Figuring out what was going on had rather quickly jumped up his list of priorities.
Joel chuckled to himself, amazed at what was happening. He quickly extracted himself from his squished position on the couch. “Restart. I’m going to get some more beers.” He bounced up the stairs, taking two at a time with his beer bottle in hand as a mascot.
He passed Paige and Molly, who were sitting quietly in the common area, and mock-saluted them. Paige wiggled her fingers, and Molly grinned and flipped him her middle finger. He sniggered as he wandered passed, catching only a part of their conversation as he headed into the kitchen.
Empty Thai containers were strewn about the table, left over from their dinner. Maya was nowhere to be seen, but the cocktail shaker in the sink and a glass on the side told him that she’d be back at some point. He opened the fridge and located another six pack of Yollin beer.
That was when he realized that he could hear Molly and Paige talking from here.
He held his breath as he listened.
Chapter 20
Common area, Safehouse, Gaitune-67
“So, the Federation has rogue agents,” Paige sighed after hearing the rest of what had happened with Nickie.
She and Molly sat in the otherwise empty common area. The holoscreen was off, and they hadn’t even put on mood music. Maya’s sticky drink sat abandoned on the mocha table, as Molly nursed her third beer of the evening, and Paige sipped her second cocktail.
“Well I wouldn’t say she was a rogue agent,” Molly explained. “Although, she seemed to be running her own mission without direct contact or supervision from the Federation.”
Paige frowned thoughtfully. “That’s strange, isn’t it though? You wouldn’t think they’d sanction that.”
Molly shrugged. “They sanctioned us.”
“Yeah, but that’s different. We run ops that they give us. We operate below the radar. We’re still affiliated with them and they still supply us with ships and equipment and technology. This Nickie girl, it felt like she was out on her own, with people she just seemed to acquire.”
Molly picked at the label on her beer. “I did get that sense too. Neither of them had any military training or skills.”
“But man, that Grim could cook!” Paige squealed, becoming more animated now. “Oooh—we’ve still got some pizza in the fridge.” She started to get up. “You want some?”
Molly patted her belly. “I couldn’t eat another thing.”
Paige relaxed back into the sofa. “Well, it’s always there for breakfast then. It’ll need using.”
Molly noted that Paige was like the traditional Estarian Mom. The Mom she never had.
Paige had a new thought. “Hey, you know what I noticed when Nickie was up here too?”
“What?”
“You’re not going to like it…”
Molly narrowed her eyes. “So why tell me?”
Paige twirled at her glass. “Because it amused me,” she said simply.
“Go on.”
Paige sniggered to herself, her head dropping over her drink and hiding her face. “I just figured that I’d never see anyone that could make you look like you had a stick up your ass!”
Molly burst out laughing, a little bamboozled by the comment. “Well, wonders never cease. I dunno what to tell you.”
The laughter settled. “I’m just glad that things are going to be getting back to normal around here.”
Just then the airlock popped open at the front door, spilling Arlene and Ben’or out into the foyer. They were laughing and joking, and from what Molly could tell, propping each other up.
“Well, almost normal,” she added.
Just then Joel appeared at the kitchen door with the beer, but Molly’s attention was pulled by the Estarian-Zyhn couple who had just appeared.
“Just going to take a pod back down to Estaria,” Arlene called over from the foyer as the pair staggered through. “That okay?”
Molly waved her hand. “Sure. Be safe, night!”
Arlene and Ben’or, still giggling like teenagers headed for the basement door and helped each other down.
Molly shook her head, smiling. “They make a good couple.”
Paige eyed her knowingly. “Yes,” she agreed, looking up at Joel who had returned from the kitchen. “A good couple.” She shuffled up off the sofa and stood. “I’m gonna go find Maya. She’s taking way too long to find that bottle we stashed. I suspect she’s just opened it herself!”
She clipped away across the foyer disappearing down the corridor to the quarters.
Joel sat down in the armchair across from Molly. “Soooooo,” he drawled nervously. “Nickie makes you look like you have a stick up your ass?”
Molly sniggered, taking another sip of her beer. “You heard that?” She snorted lightly. “I guess so. All the more reason I’m glad she’s gone.”
Joel grinned. “Well, I think you handled the whole thing pretty well.”
“Thanks,” she said, raising her bottle to Joel.
“Tell you what,” he offered. “Lemme go and drop these beers back downstairs and then I’ll come back up to hang for a bit. Things are getting a bit intense down there on the MMORPG game that Oz and Bourne decided to run together.”
Molly sniggered again. “I can only imagine!”
“Yeah, I’ll tell you about it. Gimme a few minutes.” He got up and carried the beer away, leaving her to sit alone in contemplation for a few minutes.
It’s not often I’m on my own these days, she noted to Oz.
Oz?
No response.
Oz?
Yeah. I get it. But, erm, can we hang later. I’m in the middle of—
Your role-playing game.
Yes. And Bourne is being a little arse, so I need to show him who’s boss.
Molly, tipsy and happy, giggled to herself. Ok, Oz. May the force be with you.
She sat for a few moments, appreciating everything she had in her life: her team, her friends, and missions that meant something. Missions that could make a difference.
Doesn’t get much better than this, she thought to herself.
What? His tone was intense and distracted.
Nothing, Oz. I’m thinking to myself.
Right. Okay, Bye.
And he was gone again.
Epilogue
Ekks Residence, Spire, Estaria
Richard Ekks slowly came aware of the world, the comfortableness of his dream floating away as the bleeping sound tore him back to reality. He felt a wave of nausea move through his exhausted body.
Reluctantly he opened his eyes. They stung. He reached across to the bedside table to lift his holo.
Four in the morning.
Fuck.
It was an incoming call. He didn’t recognize the address, which meant it was likely him.
Hurriedly he sat up and readied himself for the interaction. He wiped his hand over his face and tapped accept.
“Are you able to talk?” The voice on the other end was clipped, but calm. It was Ghetti.
“Yes. I’m alone,” Ekks responded.
“We have something else for you to do.”
“Okay.”
“We need you to make sure that the warships are launched and protecting the outer system.”
Richard felt another wave of nausea hit him. This time it wasn’t from exhaustion.
“How do you expect me to do that?” He tried to keep his voice steady, but felt it crack as the air seemed to disappear from his lungs.
“We made you Commander of the Estarian-Ogg Space Fleet for a reason. Did we make a mistake?”
Ekks felt his mind whirring. He needed to stay on point. He could process later. “I need support from the Senate. Consensus from my peers. I can’t just launch them. There are practicalities to consider.”
“This is your task,” the voice told him.
“But you don’t understand. I can’t just—”
“You can.” Ghetti was eerily firm. “Do what you need to do to make it happen.”
There was a slight pause as Ekks thought through what he had to do. “It’s going to take some time,” he said quietly.
On the other end of the call Raj Ghetti smiled, satisfied, with cool confidence. The discussion of the parameters was merely an indication that he had already accepted the task. “You have a few months. Start the process. But don’t put off acting. When the time comes we are going to need those ships in position. Our very existence in this system will depend on it.”
“I understand.” Ekks made an effort to sound in control, when in reality he had no idea what was happening or what he was really going to do.
“Good. I’ll be in touch.”
The call was ended.
Ekks sat in his darkened bedroom, palpitations thumping through his chest and throat, threatening to give him a heart attack.
He thought he could handle the pressure. He thought he had been acting in the greater good when Ghetti had first pitched him the opportunity. But now, faced with the task of launching the ships with no immediate threat, he couldn’t help but wonder what he’d signed up for.
What was he going to be forced to do in the coming weeks and months?
FINIS
Invasion
The Ascension Myth Book 11
Chapter 1
Main Hall, Skóli Uppstigs Academy, Spire, Estaria
Molly hovered by the stage, observing the room of about forty to fifty people.
“Thought you said this was going to be low key?” she muttered, glaring at Paige briefly as she kept the potential audience in her view as if they were the biggest threat in the room.
“We did. We had to, else certain people wouldn’t be able to join us. As far as the outside world knows this is just a health and safety meeting.”
Molly snorted. “How… appropriate.”
Paige grinned. “I thought so. Especially given that that was what we almost got shut down on.”
“I’m still amazed by how you both got this put together so quickly.”
Paige shrugged. “It was mostly Maya. I’ve had some things in the business to deal with.”
“Oh? Nothing too stressful I hope?”
“No. Just niggly things, like staff retention and minor lawsuits.”
“How come?”
“It feels like someone is out for us. You know… like the Northern Clan is just trying to keep us busy.”
“Yeah. The sooner we root them out, the better. For everyone on these damn planets.”
“That would be good. Ok. You ready?”
Molly took a deep breath. “Ready as I’ll ever be…”
Ogg Military Base, Ogg
The technician scuttled through the corridors like an ant navigating a crack in the sidewalk. He ducked past other Oggs as he went, picking up his speed to a jog before he could get cut off by the janitorial staff closing the hallway.
They glared at him bitterly as he passed, but he simply waved an apologetic hand and hurried on his way.
An Estarian and a Teshovian, both standing out like drops of paint on a clean sheet of paper amongst the sea of Oggs, glanced up in bemusement as the technician loped past them. He gave them a passing glance, and it looked as if the Teshovian was going to ask if there was anything wrong. She changed her mind and looked back to the file they were both perusing with an almost visible force of will.
He pushed them from his mind and carried on until he ground to a halt outside the door to the Captain’s receiving area. He knocked once, waited for barely half a second, then knocked again before the door opened and the Captain’s secretary gestured him impatiently into the room.
It was comfortable in a sterile, nondescript sort of way, offering little to get attached to, but also little to take offense to. The secretary sitting at the tidy, expansive desk looked decidedly unimpressed at the interruption as the technician strode quickly into the room, though her expression shifted gradually to concern as he leaned over the edge of the desk to quickly explain his reason for showing up without an appointment.
“Just wait there,” she stated with a sigh once he was finished explaining his presence there. She opened her holo and typed a message.
The technician paced across the office like a nervous cat, picking distractedly at the hem of his uniform jacket. He pondered over what he was supposed to say once he was in the Captain’s office, at least until the secretary interrupted his pacing to tell him. “The Captain will see you.”
The technician hardly paused to offer her a quick, “Thanks,” before he turned on his heel and darted into the Captain’s office without even waiting for the door to finish opening.
The Captain was already looking at him when he entered the office, elbows on the desk and fingers steepled in front of his chin, waiting expectantly.
His office was almost as sparse as the receiving area.
“Presumably you have a good reason for barging in like this,” he stated blandly before he gestured loosely for the technician to explain himself.
The Captain was not a man predisposed toward patience on most days, so the technician wasted no time in opening his holoconsole. He sorted through the tabs until only the most relevant were immediately visible before he passed the screen over for the Captain to take a look.
“We caught something on our outermost satellites,” he explained quickly before the Captain could even comment on what he was seeing. “We can sort of triangulate its position, but we don’t know much about it other than it isn’t supposed to be there. We can’t find any recent incidents on record that would account for it. I was told to give you the news and let you see it for yourself.”
The Captain was silent for a worryingly long moment, until the technician began to wonder whether or not he should repeat the entire spiel. Just as he opened his mouth to say something, though, the Captain abruptly pushed his chair away from his desk and got to his feet, quickly enough that the technician backpedaled a step.
Without a word the Captain rounded his desk, picking up his communicator as he did.
There was a secluded corner in the back of the office, partially partitioned off from the rest of the room by a set of shelves, and he strode there as he activated his communicator.
Before he could wrangle his curiosity under control, the technician trailed after him, peering around the corner of the shelf to see what he was doing.
“I need you to put me through to—" The Captain’s budding conversation jerked to a halt as he realized the technician was still there. He turned to him. “Thank you for the report. You’re dismissed.”
The technician didn’t linger to test the Captain’s patience
He turned on his heel and beat a hasty retreat. All he heard was, “No, that wasn’t aimed at you. Could you put me through—" before the door closed, muffling the conversation.
The technician lingered a moment at the closed door until the secretary cleared her throat at him and sent him hurrying back to his station.
Nefertiti Military Base, Estaria
The Estarian Ensign stared at his terminal, using the heel of one boot to fidget his chair back and forth like a metronome as he watched information scroll across the screen. He checked the time; it had to have been at least a couple of hours since the last time he checked.
It had been about ten minutes.
He blinked slowly, and his eyes stayed closed until he started to tip forward toward the desk. With a jerk, he snapped back upright just before his forehead could meet the surface, eyes opening again. He got to his feet, shook his head briskly, and jogged out of the room to get himself a cup of coffee.
By the time he returned to his station, he had his personal communicator in his hand and was scrolling through his personalized Estarian stock market feed.
He sighed out a contented breath as he took a sip of his coffee and dropped back down into his chair.
He could feel the fog clearing already.
It was a fairly standard day on Nefertiti Military Base, and especially so in the atmospheric monitoring center. There was no harm in taking a personal moment to wake up.
The coffee still tasted more like floor wax than anything resembling coffee, but his stock market feed was stable, and he couldn’t see any unpleasant surprises coming. No pleasant surprises, either, but he figured stable was better than exciting—
It came as a surprise to absolutely no one when, as the door to the room slid open to admit the Lieutenant, the Ensign yelped in surprise, nearly fell out of his chair, and slopped half of his coffee over his knees. He pouted down at his sopping wet pants for a split second before carefully sneaking a glance up at the Lieutenant as a shadow fell over his desk and terminal.
The Lieutenant simply arched one eyebrow and wondered. “Looking for a repeat of the Applesauce Incident, Ensign?”
“Ah—,” Hastily, the Ensign put his cup down, shoved his communicator back into his pocket, and scooted his chair closer to his terminal. One hand rose to run through his hair before he remembered that his hand was currently covered in coffee. He scrubbed it off on his pants before setting his hands on his desk instead. “No, sir.”
Without another word, the Lieutenant nodded once and continued to his own terminal.
The quiet afternoon resumed after that, at least until the Ensign’s terminal started beeping as one of the outermost proximity alarms went off.
“Uh—sir?” he called, scooting his chair even closer to his desk as he peered at the terminal, squinting at it as he tried to figure out what it was telling him. He silenced the beeping a moment later when it seemed like it was unlikely that whatever had triggered it was going to drift farther away or drift close enough to trigger the next alarm.
“Did you break something?” the Lieutenant asked wearily, turning his chair away from his desk.
The Ensign sputtered indignantly, but he was spared from needing to defend his own honor when the Junior Lieutenant across the room, usually as quiet as a mouse, announced abruptly, “I’ve got it, too!” She leaned away from her terminal to let the Lieutenant take a glance at it.
“Well, what is it?” he asked expectantly, glancing between them before he got to his feet to look at the Ensign’s terminal. “Size? Distance? Speed? Will there be any damage we need to worry about?” He rattled the questions off one after the next, only stopping when all he got in reply were matching looks of doe-eyed concern.
He let the Ensign and the Junior Lieutenant stare for a few seconds before he snapped his fingers sharply to get them back on track and gestured expansively for one of them to enlighten him as to what was going on.
If only it were so easy.
The Ensign signaled helplessly at his terminal with one hand, as if that answered any of the Lieutenant’s questions. “I can’t get an accurate read on it. I can’t even tell if it’s one object or a cloud, or if it’s coming toward us.”
The Junior Lieutenant carefully suggested. “There was that Teshovian probe that got pulverized when it hit a shuttle a few weeks ago. The debris from that might have drifted into satellite range.”
The Lieutenant waved off the suggestion dismissively and pushed the Ensign’s chair aside to get a better look at the terminal. “That probe was tiny; I doubt we would even be able to see it on our sensors,” he corrected absently. “Are we supposed to be seeing any activity from the asteroid belt at this time of year?”
The Junior Lieutenant shook her head so quickly that her bun wobbled. “Unless it’s destabilized, we’re not supposed to see any activity there for weeks.”
The Lieutenant made a low noise of aggravation, and the Ensign shrank back into his seat until the Lieutenant started to pace back and forth across the room. Granted, his pacing wasn’t particularly impressive, considering the atmospheric monitoring team hadn’t seen a budget increase in nearly a decade so the monitoring center was roughly the size of a closet.
“One of you needs to give me an idea of what it could be, rather than just telling me what it isn’t,” he stated testily, regardless of the fact that he was the one who had shot down the probe theory.
The Junior Lieutenant fumbled, tripping over her tongue for a moment before launching into some rather involved speculation about asteroids in the belt colliding and breaking apart and drifting into range. She kept interrupting herself to say that if it was the case, it was more harmless than it really sounded.
Cautiously, the Ensign scooted his chair back toward his terminal. He let the Lieutenant and Junior Lieutenant argue without interrupting them as he dutifully set about recording the abnormal readings. Someone was going to have to give the report on them, after all, and he always got the grunt work.
Main Hall, Skóli Uppstigs Academy, Spire, Estaria
Paige tapped her glass of champagne with a metal spoon. “Always wanted to do that!” she whispered to Molly before turning her attention to the crowd.
The chatter died down. Professor Duffledorf had been regaling a group of their newest faculty members with stories of his time in the military. The irony around his subject being non-combative military strategy seemed completely lost on him. Reluctantly he paused his story.
Dr. Jones and Dr. Augustine were the last to pull their attention from the buffet table and, mouths full of food, turned to look at the women standing just in front of the main stage.
Paige straightened up and flashed her biggest smile at her audience. “Ladies and gentlemen. Thank you all so much for being here. My name is Paige Montgomery, and I’m your hostess for the evening. As you know this event is just our little way of saying a huge thank you for all the help you’ve given us. We’ll shortly be moving to the next room where you can see the demonstration of the new equipment for the teaching labs, but before we do that our esteemed leader has a few things to share. Molly…”
Molly took another deep breath. “Thank you all for being here. I cannot express to you how grateful I am…”
Her speech continued, met by the rapt attention of multiple peoples who had worked tirelessly doing all they needed to in an attempt to thwart the efforts of the Northern Clan to have them shut down.
Molly noticed a disturbance in the back of the room. Gareth Atkins, their ally from when they founded the special university seemed distracted. He placed his glass of champagne down on the table and tilted his head, looking at his holo as if taking a call. He headed out the door.
That’s odd, she thought to herself. He is normally super polite and would let it go to messages if he were already in a meeting or an event.
She continued her speech, calling off the points she wanted to make. She and Maya had agreed not to mention everyone by name, simply because it was a security risk, but there were a few people she wanted to mention. Her eyes scanned the room to make sure they were all there. That’s when she noticed Ben’or’s attention had also been pulled. He seemed to have watched Gareth leaving too. Arlene whispered something to him, and he responded, but Molly couldn’t see their lips from her position by the stage.
She continued speaking, calling out the people she was able to thank. That’s when she noticed two or three of the other guests looking down at their holos.
Oz? What’s going on?
Checking now.
He paused. It seems there has been some new intel discovered by the Department of Off-World Logistics.
What intel?
An unidentified object just at the cusp of the range of the joint world satellites.
What does that mean?
Well, probably nothing, but the concern seems to be that something non-Federation and non-commercial is coming into the system from a direction no one can make sense of.
Ok. We need to wrap this up then and get back to Gaitune.
You could. But the distances involved are so large that you have weeks before anything without Gate tech would get here.
Are you sure?
Positive.
Well, let’s assume they haven’t got Gate tech, or else they’d be here already.
Good assumption.
Ok. Round up the core team and have them come up to Gaitune with us after this soiree is done then.
Sending the messages now.
Molly finished her thank-yous and encouraged them to drink the champagne because the university by-laws prohibited her from taking it off-site. She got a few chuckles and a round of applause.
Paige hurried over to her. “Great speech. Well done.”
Molly’s face turned from her show-face, for the outside world, to her just-Molly face. “We’ve got a problem. Oz is sending you details. We should finish up here, but then we need to get back to Gaitune.”
Paige’s eyes widened. Molly wasn’t certain, but she suspected that Paige was more excited than worried. “Ok. No problem,” she said. “Maya’s just finished setting up the demo next door, and she’s responsible for that piece of the evening. We can give her the go-ahead to get that underway if you like.”
Molly nodded distractedly, her eyes scanning the crowd. “Yeah. Let’s do that.” Then she wandered off, without glancing back at Paige.
Paige was used to it. In all the years she’d known Molly she had only seen Molly’s social skills improve—apart from when she was intensely focused on something. Which, she deduced, was probably what was going on right now.
She watched Molly disappear into the mass of people, only to be met at the door by Gareth Atkins coming back into the room. He looked concerned. Not that Gareth was ever footloose and fancy-free, but his expression was grave again, like he had been in the weeks preceding the break-through on the university case.
The pair whispered together for a few moments before Gareth hurried out again.
Paige cocked her head, wondering, before she remembered Molly had told her to check her holo.
She glanced down to see a message from Oz.
Back of the Main Hall, Skóli Uppstigs Academy, Spire, Estaria
Molly excused herself from a conversation with Dr. Augustine as she saw Gareth Atkins return to the room.
“Hey, did you get the same intel I did?” she asked in a hushed voice.
He nodded. “Likely. My contact says that the agencies are all in a dither over this.”
Molly gently led him by the elbow away from the doorway, so they wouldn’t be overheard by the guests bustling around. “Don’t they have contingencies for this kind of thing?”
“They do… but…”
“But?”
Gareth looked more concerned than she had ever seen him. “What is it?” she pressed.
Gareth took a deep breath. “The standard contingency is for them to launch the fleet.”
Molly frowned. She hadn’t paid much attention to the doomsday kind of things when she was in the military. It was more an excuse to do science and disappear from the world. “The fleet?” she queried.
“The Estarian-Ogg fleet,” Gareth clarified.
“But that’s just for policing trade routes, isn’t it?”
“Yes. In times of peace. But there are whispers about enacting section 53 of the second amendment. It gives the military the decision-making power in the event that we’re invaded.”
“You think we’re being invaded?”
“Can’t be sure yet. All they’ve had is a blip on the radar. No one can tell what it is until they’ve got more data.”
Molly thought for a moment, her eyes subconsciously keeping some attention on the room of guests milling around them. She leaned in and lowered her voice even more. “Wouldn’t they need Ogg approval for that? I can’t imagine the Oggs wanting to launch into a potential war with no data.”
Gareth gave her a look as if to say anything is possible.
She tapped a finger on her lips, turning the possibilities over in her mind. “In your opinion, Gareth, could this be an error. In the equipment, for instance?”
Gareth nodded. “Entirely possible.”
“Could it be faked?”
“You’re thinking someone—”
She nodded. “If you wanted to enact martial law, what easier way to do it?”
“Northern Clan?”
She nodded again. “I think they just upped the ante.”
Gareth looked positively gray. He opened his wrist holo. “Lemme make some calls. I’ll see what chance there is of blocking it.”
“Ok. Keep me posted. We’ll see what we can do from our end.”
“Yes. Your mother… of course.”
Molly smiled knowingly. “Yeah. I’m sure she’d love to be involved in this…”
Gareth wasn’t sure if she was being sarcastic… or if she was just grim about having to involve her mother.
Either way, he had work to do. He nodded an acknowledgment and then scuttled off.
Chapter 2
Hangar Deck, Gaitune-67
The pod descended deftly onto the hangar deck back at Gaitune. Molly used the opportunity to ride alone and review the details that Oz had been able to scalp from the communications that had been flying about the Estarian XtraNET.
I think this is a dangerous situation, whether the threat is real or not.
Because of the trigger-happy political elements?
Exactly.
The pod door opened before she reached it allowing her to step out. Joel, who had seen her landing, hurried over.
“I got Oz’s message,” he called to her. “Need me to do anything?”
“Not yet,” she called back, hauling her bag out from under her seat. “Let’s just meet everyone in the base conference room. I just need to pop up to my room and dump my gear.”
Joel came to a stop about twenty paces away, waved in response and hurried off in the direction of the base facilities, no doubt to help wrangle everyone else who needed to be in on the meeting.
Molly strode across the yellow non-slip paint of the hangar deck, and up the stairs. Heading through the basement workshop, she noticed the empty beer bottles and take out packets in the workshop around where the men played their hologames.
Must have been playing when they got the message, she thought to herself. She had visions of Brock trying to persuade Pieter and Crash to take his hangover cures to get them operational. Goodness knows what he put in those things…
She arrived in the foyer. Giles and Arlene were there, standing around.
She slowed her pace. They turned to look at her.
“All ok?” she asked.
They both looked concerned.
Arlene pressed her lips together and shook her head. She fiddled with her fingers. Arlene never fiddled.
“Erm, actually, we wondered if we might have a word,” Giles began delicately.
“Sure, but I have a briefing. Can it wait?”
Giles shook his head, then took off his glasses.
Molly felt a heaviness rise in her chest. She realized that this may be more than them asking what they could do to help with the situation that was blowing up.
“I can’t help but wonder,” Giles started. “That what we did… with the talismans and Bethany Anne…”
Arlene interjected. “What we’re trying to say is… do you think this radar blip is a result of what we did? With the Ascension Race. You know… like maybe called them and told them where we were and now they’re coming to find us.”
Molly tried to maintain an expressionless face. The thought had already crossed her mind, but it gave her such a sick feeling in her stomach that she tried to play ignorant.
“From what we know, there is nothing to suggest that it’s even moving in our direction, let alone that it’s a ship.”
Giles had replaced his glasses, but he was still frowning. “But it must be large enough for those outer satellites to even pick it up.”
Yeah, fleet size.
We probably don’t want to mention that.
“Maybe. We don’t have enough info yet. Oz is still collating data from the satellites the Oggs and Estarians have in the outer system. Our best estimation right now is that it’s space debris,” Molly explained. “What worries me more is how this might be used to disrupt the already delicate military situation though.”
Giles rubbed his eyes under his glasses. “Yes, we’d thought of that. Anything we can do?”
Molly shrugged, dropping her bag from her shoulder. “I don’t know yet. Why don’t you come to the briefing downstairs in the base conference room? I’m just gonna dump my gear and head over.”
Arlene looked at Giles, completely unconvinced. “Ok. We’ll see you down there then,” she agreed.
Molly gave her a half-smile, in an attempt to be reassuring. She nodded then headed off down the corridor to her quarters. As she left the foyer she heard Arlene say something about going up against the Ascension Race.
Giles replied. “We wouldn’t stand a chance.” His tone was grim and despondent. And he was right. If they were truly going up against the master race that had spent the last ten thousand years seeding all these races in this section of the galaxy, it was safe to say that their technology was far more advanced than anything the Oggs and Estarians could produce.
Molly shook the thought from her head and concentrated on the immediate things she needed to do. She needed to change her clothes, wash her face, and make sure that she grabbed some water to take down with her to the meeting. Something told her this wasn’t going to be a quick meeting.
What’s more, she was going to have to do a lot of panic-control, which was particularly socially and emotionally draining for her.
Base Conference room, Gaitune-67
Molly rushed from the kitchen down to the base conference room, phyto-nutrient protein shake in hand. She guessed in the back of her mind she had probably skipped a meal at some point and figured that would tide her over.
We should probably loop Director Bates in on this briefing.
Molly considered Oz’s suggestion. You’re probably right, subconsciously sighing.
Do I detect a resistance to her still?
Well, a lifetime of BS isn’t going to be obliterated in a couple of missions that happen to go right on her end.
Wow. You’re pretty hard on her.
Well, you haven’t ever had parents, so I don’t expect you to understand. But yes, tactically she would be useful so please do invite her in.
Oz fell quiet as he went through whatever protocols he had set up to contact Carol Bates on official business.
Molly strode into the conference room. The whole team was there, and while there was the usual hubbub of activity and chatter, something was different. It was almost like they could tell that this wasn’t a routine situation. As if they knew what Molly also sensed in her gut: this wasn’t debris in space.
Giles and Arlene sat along the far side of the conference table. Ben’or was next to Arlene. He must have come up with her following the thank you event at the university.
Sean and Joel wore sweat suits and looked fresh from the showers. Jack was in full uniform so she’d probably been working in the weapons room on one of her projects Molly had approved last month. Karina, Brock, and Crash sat together looking as thick as thieves. Molly had noticed how Karina had been bonding with the other team members. In amongst the drama of everything else, at least something was going right.
Paige and Pieter sat next to each other, holoscreens scattered everywhere as they worked, probably fielding all kinds of other work they had on the boil.
Maya arrived a second after Molly and sat down quickly so as not to cause a delay.
Ok, we’ve got Carol on a holoconnection.
Thanks, Oz. Let’s get her onscreen.
The screen in the middle of the conference table unfolded and displayed in the central point so that all members around the table could see her.
Carol looked startled. “Greetings,” she said. “Sorry I wasn’t expecting that everyone would be here.” She paused, taking everything in. “Arlene,” she said sternly.
Arlene nodded to her. Paige glanced at Pieter to see if he had clocked the coolness between the two women.
Molly ignored it. “Hi, Mom. Thanks for being here. And everyone. Thank you. As you know…” she was straight into briefing mode.
“At 20:04 this evening the Joint Ogg-Estarian Satellite System detected an object just beyond the outer region of the system. At present we haven’t had enough tracking data in order to ascertain direction, or even the nature of the object. The primary problem we face is the politicians on Estaria using it as a reason to launch the Fleet. As you know tensions between Ogg and Estaria have run high in recent months over discussions around this very question. Ekks,” she flicked her holo and brought a still shot of Ekks up next to her mother’s video feed. “The Commander of the Joint Fleet has been building support for a move to launch them into the outer system. How he could have known this was coming we don’t know. Either this is coincidental, and he’ll be using it to stir up panic, or he has been anticipating a conflict with one of the member states in the Federation. The Federation angle was something we thought was more plausible… until today’s radar blip.”
She turned to Paige and Pieter who were sitting to the right of Arlene and Ben’or. “Paige, Maya and Pieter, can you get onto investigating possible conflicts that Ekks might be gearing up for. I think it’s safe to assume that the Northern Clan is behind his motivation, but at the same time, I’d suggest putting aside the recent radar hit and assume that hasn’t happened.”
“Oz is monitoring any chatter. Joel, perhaps you could be the human sense check and see if there is anything that corresponds with the political movements on the surface. I’m almost certain there is something we’re missing.”
Carol interrupted. “Might I suggest we look into things planet-side as well.”
Molly nodded. “Of course. Any help would be very much appreciated. Jack and Sean, I’d like you to assume that it is an invasion. But one that isn’t related to the Federation…”
Sean frowned and raised his hand. “Hang on… how do we know it’s not the Federation?”
Molly looked at him with a sarcasm in her eye. “Sean, you’re practically part of the Federation. Do you think they’d do anything without giving you or I a heads up?”
Sean shrugged. “Fuck knows what goes on over there these days. I mean, they changed my vacation policy without telling me. Said it was an oversight. An oversight! Wouldn’t put anything past the big cogs of bureaucrazy.”
Molly rolled her eyes. Karina looked like she was holding her breath. Maybe she knew something that Molly didn’t, she thought for a moment. “Ok, Sean. Well, I’m assuming that if you knew something you would come and let me know. But in case you don’t, my next call after this briefing is to Lance. Ok?”
Sean nodded, folded his arms and sat back. Karina looked at him as if she didn’t know who he was right now. Molly filed the information away to consider later. She knew from her online Federation “people-ing” modules she’d been studying that the woman always knows when her man is lying, and worst-case scenario she might have to interview Karina to make sure she had all her bases covered. Royale had always been a bit of a wild card in her camp when it came to the Federation. Mobilization for war wouldn’t fall outside of his strange loyalty to Lance.
“As I was saying,” she continued. “Run the simulations as if this is a new, third-party threat that we don’t already have on the board. I want to know what our options are for action, and what our probabilities of a favorable and an unfavorable outcome are in each scenario.”
Jack took some notes down as she listened.
“Brock, Crash, and Karina, can you make sure that we’re up to date with maintenance on all the ships and pods? If we need to move, I want our ships to be in top condition. Anything that you’ve been meaning to do, make sure you get it organized. Assume from a maintenance perspective that we’re going to war in two weeks. Order up parts and any supplies you need. Put aside non-critical projects.”
The three of them nodded and mumbled their agreement. Karina looked surprised to be put on maintenance, but also pleased that she was being treated as a full team member now. Molly knew from conversations with Director Bates that in her history working for Carol, Karina had executed an undercover assignment that had given her engineering experience. Time to start capitalizing on it, she reasoned with herself.
Molly looked ready to wrap up, but Giles raised his hand. “Anything we can do?” he asked, signaling to include Arlene and Ben’or in his question.
Molly thought for a moment. “Make sure that Anne is ok. There is a nervous vibe on the base at the moment, and she’s bound to pick up on it. Plus, after all she went through on the last trip, we need to be keeping a close eye on her.”
Arlene nodded as if taking responsibility for her. Her eyes lit up suddenly as if she had a new thought. She glanced quickly at Ben’or, hesitated then spoke. “You know, we could take her back to my place on Estaria if you like… keep her safe there.” She paused. “Or there’s my old cabin here on Gaitune.”
Molly took a moment, considering the options. “You know, that’s not a bad idea. I think Estaria would be more comfortable for her. But the cabin is a good contingency if we need to keep her close and safe, but as a first option, she’s more likely to go stir crazy without any of the modern conveniences.” She paused. “Are you sure you can manage her?”
Arlene hesitated again. Molly was sure she saw a flicker of panic in Arlene’s eyes for a fraction of a second. “Yes,” she confirmed, firmly now. “Yes. She’ll be fine. She’s worked hard, and I believe her powers are under control… even if she becomes emotional.”
Molly nodded. “Ok. Make it so.”
Giles sat back in his seat as if he were irritated by still not having anything to do.
“Ok folks. You know what you need to do. We’re likely going to need some help, however this pans out. I’m going to talk to the Federation about reinforcements just in case the space debris isn’t space debris. Any other questions before we break?”
No more hands went up.
“Ok. Team dismissed,” she said, using Joel’s old hand signal for winding up a meeting and moving out.
The team pushed out of their antigrav chairs and filed out in a quiet mull of activity. Giles stayed put.
He waited until everyone had left, and even signaled to Arlene who had hovered at the door, that he’d catch her up.
Molly played along and waited. “What is it?” she asked, knowing full well his concerns hadn’t changed.
“Forgive me… I know you haven’t set any investigation into whether we might have triggered this event… But I’d like to look into that.”
“Where would you start?” she asked.
“I have no idea. But I’ll do some work on it.”
Molly seemed in a hurry to get him to move on. “Ok,” she said, distracted. “Keep me posted.”
Giles hesitated, fiddling with his glasses again. He wagged a finger. “It’s just, I can’t understand why this Ascension Race would go to all this humongous effort to leave these clues all over the place, to have us figure out how to contact them… only to come and kill us…”
Molly stroked her chin. “You’re right. It doesn’t make sense. For what it’s worth, I don’t believe that if it is indeed them, they’d be coming for malicious reasons. But the problem is, no one in the outside world is going to believe that. Plus, as responsible leaders, we can’t take any chances when it comes to the safety of either our system or the Federation beyond. We have to be sensible in how we proceed.”
Giles lowered his gaze to the table and nodded. “Yes,” he murmured. “I understand your position. But there’s something I just can’t put my finger on. Something else that is niggling me… that we’re missing.”
Molly seemed to relax for a moment, her to-do list forgotten momentarily. “I agree. I have that same feeling too.” She snapped out of it. “If anything comes to you…”
He put his glasses back on, and stood up, straightening his atmosuit. “Of course. You’ll be the first to know.”
“Day or night,” she added.
Giles hesitated, his eyes brighter like he wanted to clarify something. He changed his mind, dismissing the thought that maybe he had a chance with her socially still. “Sure. Thanks,” he said before he headed out of the conference room.
Molly smiled at him as he walked past her.
Oz, can we get a call with the General?
Sure. Lemme find out when his next availability is.
Thanks.
She took another sip of her phyto-shake that had been untouched for the entire meeting.
Department of Cyber Communications, Spire, Estaria
Jennifer was pretty sure her arms were going to break off if she had to carry the box another fifteen feet, but the door to her office was right there. She picked up her pace from a reluctant plod to a labored mosey for the last few strides before she came to a halt.
She even had a door plaque already. Her name, Jennifer Etang, was carved in elegant script.
Carefully, Jennifer tried to shift her box to prop it up against one hip, only to abruptly grapple with it as it tried to make a dive for the floor. She caught it, hugging it awkwardly to her midsection at the last moment. She stood there, both hands wrapped around the sides of the box as she stared at the door’s keypad in consternation. Unfortunately, she failed to manifest any convenient psychic abilities just then.
She didn’t hear the footsteps behind her, nor she did realize she had company.
“Need a hand?” a voice asked.
She nearly leapt out of her skin, hugging the box tighter to her stomach before she could lose her grip on it.
Her attempt to whip around to face him turned into more of an awkward twist, and she found herself face-to-collarbone with another Estarian, roughly around her own age if she had to guess.
He was looking at her expectantly. She shook her head self-consciously, remembering that he had asked her a question. She cleared her throat and jerked her head toward the door, lacking the use of her hands to properly point.
“The door,” she specified. “It kind of requires hands.”
“A very poor design choice,” he agreed cheerfully, stepping around her to enter his own entry code into the keypad. The door slid open and he stepped aside, gesturing her into the room with a flourish.
Jennifer rolled her eyes good-naturedly at herself as she passed and dropped her box on a free spot on the desk. She glanced over her shoulder to see him lingering in the doorway still. She motioned him into the room.
“Andrew,” he offered belatedly once he stepped in enough to let the door close. “How’s the moving-in process going? Finishing up?”
She spread her arms to gesture around at the office. Though it was still undecorated all the supplies on the desk and the shelves were hers. “I just need to empty out this box.”
“Of bricks,” he supplied wryly.
She brought a finger to her lips to hiss conspiratorially. “Shhhh! They’re my secret bricks. No one was supposed to know about them.”
Andrew held his hands up as if in surrender. “Your secret is safe with me. But are your secret bricks there so you can fend anyone off? Since…well, these are quite the shoes you’re filling. Nervous?”
Jennifer shrugged and dropped down into her chair. “A bit, I guess. It’s a big job. Nothing I haven’t been trained for, though. I’ll need to spend some time familiarizing myself with the servers and relays to see what sort of maintenance they need and bone up on the public communication regulations, but…” She trailed off with an unconcerned shrug and shifted in her seat to get comfortable.
“I meant because— “ He cut himself off, mouth twisting to one side as he thought better of whatever he planned on saying.
“I already know what happened to Dorota,” she assured him. “They told me about it after my first interview for the job. So don’t worry, you’re not going to scare me by bringing it up.”
Andrew rubbed the back of his head and leaned back against the door. His hands fell to his sides and he drummed his fingers against the door. “You don’t seem too worried about it.”
Jennifer waved it off with a loose motion of one hand before she let it fall back to the arm of her chair. “I won’t say I don’t care that it happened,” she explained carefully after a moment. “But I’m not Dorota Carpe.” She pulled the front of her jacket to the side to show off the gun holstered at her side. Andrew tried to recoil a startled step, only to come up short when he almost clocked the back of his head against the door.
“I can take care of myself,” Jennifer informed him. She let her jacket fall closed again, and her tone turned slightly smug as she added. “If someone wants to shoot me, I’m going to shoot them first.”
Andrew arched one eyebrow dubiously, his gaze returning slowly to her face from where the gun hid beneath her coat. “You think that peashooter will keep you safe from a sniper?”
She was quiet for a few seconds, her expression going blank at first before her eyes drifted thoughtfully up and to the side.
“I can take care of myself,” she repeated, slow and assured as she folded her arms over her chest and straightened up in her seat. “You don’t need to worry about anything like that; I’ll be fine.”
Andrew couldn’t tell if she was just trying to reassure herself at this point. He pushed himself away from the door. “Love the confidence,” he remarked, turning to let the door slide open again. “I’ll leave you to your box of bricks, then.” He could take a hint, after all, and that had sounded an awful lot like a dismissal.
“Looking forward to working with you,” he called over his shoulder as he left, only just remembering that some form of politeness would probably not go amiss. “Just holler for me if you need anything.”
“Will do,” Jennifer acknowledged, already sounding distracted as she said it. She stared past the door as it closed, not truly seeing it as her thoughts wandered.
“I’ve got nothing to worry about,” she assured herself, murmuring the words under her breath once she was on her own again. After all, she could take care of herself. She would be fine.
Chapter 3
Base Conference room, Gaitune-67
Molly sat in the quiet conference room waiting for Lance to show up. Oz had arranged the call for a time that fortuitously allowed her to go and find some food and grab a shower before her presence was required.
It took several minutes for the General to finally show up. Molly checked the time on her holo. She could do with getting some sleep in as soon as they had the Federation pieces of the puzzle. At least then she could sleep on the new intel and formulate a plan in the hours it normally took her to drift off.
The screen illuminated from the central box and then unfolded, forming itself against the wall opposite her. The General was already seated, reading the brief on his holo.
“Ah. Ms. Bates. There you are.”
“Here I am, Sir,” she agreed, shuffling in her chair and trying to sit a bit straighter.
He continued to scan the update. “I see we have a potential crisis on our hands.”
She pressed her lips together. “It would seem so, sir.”
“You have a radar blip in the outer system.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Is it verified as being hostile?”
“Sir, at this point it isn’t even verified as coming in our direction.”
He eyed her carefully from his side of the screen. “So your reason for involving me?”
“Sir, whatever it is, it’s going to cause problems on Estaria. They’re going to want to launch a war fleet preemptively.”
He nodded. “Understandable. I suppose, given the speed of their ships…”
“Right. But I think that was the point all along. They just want to put the planet on a war footing. But even putting that aside, if we take it as a credible threat, the Ogg-Estarian alliance would have absolutely no chance against a fleet that is clearly capable of coming out of deep space, beyond where we can see.”
Lance rubbed his chin, his eyes fixed on his holo. “I see,” he said slowly. “So you’re expecting…”
“I was hoping we might have some support from the Federation—in the form of ships. To help protect the system.”
Lance Reynolds took a very deep breath and sat back, his eyes still lowered. After a moment he looked up at his camera. Molly didn’t like where this was going. It was clearly not happening in her favor.
“Molly, I don’t know how much you know about the situation within the Federation but we have a number of obstacles. The first being, that the Sark System isn’t even an official member of the Federation.”
Molly waited for him to expand on the others.
“This being the case,” he continued. “Even if we did have the spare ships to send, as soon as we start moving fleet ships, we’re going to cause a disruption amongst our members. The Leath are already nervous. The Noel-li have a very tenuous relationship with the rest of the Federation, and goodness knows how the Yollin factions might react. There are tensions that still exist. Tensions that we’ve all worked very hard to dispel over the last several decades, by disbanding certain elements of our forces. To parade them out of the system would only serve to reignite tensions and potentially cause civil war.” He paused, his eyes still on Molly. “I can’t take that chance.”
Molly shifted in her seat again. “I… I understand. I don’t quite know where that leaves us.”
“Well, if there is anything else I can do, of course I will. We can send you all the supplies you’ll need for the ships you have of course. And anything else. If you need some people, I can have a team dispatched. But they would have to be undercover. I can’t have Federation uniforms outside of the Federation.”
Molly nodded. “Ok. I need to think.” Her eyes drifted off for a second and then she snapped her gaze back to him as if a new thought had entered her mind. “General, could you tell me please… have you got any campaigns happening external to the Federation.”
He frowned immediately. “You know if that were the case it would be classified.”
She bobbed her head from side to side, trying to think of how to ask the specific question she needed an answer to. “Sorry, Sir. No, I was meaning, if this is a fleet heading toward us, might you know who it was? I’m assuming that they’re not federation ships?”
Lance’s face softened. “You’re correct. They’re not Federation, and I don’t have any reason to believe they are known entities that we, the Federation, already have relationships with.”
Another thought seemed to occur to her. “And you can’t think of anyone who might try targeting us, or perhaps want to ally with us, as a result of the Federation?”
The General inched back in his seat, leaning back a little. “No. I can’t think of anyone who would be coming from the direction of deep space who would want to do that. There was a time when I thought the Zhyn might partner with the Estarians… for cultural reasons more than defensive ones. But when our people looked into it closely it seemed they saw more differences than similarities.”
Molly smirked at the thought. “Yeah, I heard from Giles and Arlene they’re a very proud species. And proud of their uniqueness. Apparently, they didn’t take kindly to Giles’s theory of them sharing a seed race and so much DNA with the Estarians.”
Lance smiled. “Well, you know. We’ve seen this time and again. Even amongst the humans.” He rolled his eyes. “Anyway, if there is anything that I can do, please let me know.”
“Thank you, General. I will.” She tried a half-smile, but her mind was so distracted it barely translated into a visible physical gesture.
The camera clicked off, and the holoscreen folded itself up and back into the projector box in the center of the table.
Molly sat in the half-light and the quiet of the early morning thinking before she eventually stood up wearily and headed out of the conference room.
Ekk’s Office, Senate House, Spire
Richard Ekks read over the message carefully. Then a second time. Not that there really were very many details, but he wasn’t going to fault himself for not being thorough.
He shifted in his seat and scratched his head.
Something had been detected in the outer perimeter of the system. Just…something. The data had come from both teams on Ogg and Estaria, so there was no doubt that something was there. They just couldn’t figure out what.
He brought up his holoscreen and got comfortable in his console chair. He punched a call into the device and waited for it to be answered. As he waited, he picked at lint on his uniform.
He was contemplating canceling the call and trying again later when, at last, it was answered. Ekks was greeted by the sight of Garet Beaufort staring back at him expectantly. His jacket was draped over the back of his chair and he looked as if he had been interrupted in the middle of taking dinner as he worked.
“Commander,” Beaufort greeted mildly, folding his hands on his desk and leaning his weight on his forearms. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Ekks cleared his throat and leaned back in his seat. “Considering the update I just received, I thought it seemed prudent to check in and see if you’re aware of the anomaly that the satellites in the outer system picked up.”
Beaufort’s eyebrows rose, his expression turning faintly bemused. “This is the Department of Near Space Communications,” he pointed out, his tone laced with good humor. Even so, there was an undercurrent of expectation that made it clear he didn’t think that was truly the only reason for the call. “Our satellites won’t pick it up unless it drifts into the inner system; we don’t know any more about the outer system than your average civilian.”
“Noted,” Ekks returned dryly.
“Care to enlighten me?” Beaufort probed, leaning toward his holoconsole with interest. “Or am I supposed to wait in suspense until it finishes making its trip toward the inner planets?”
Ekks waved the question off with a dismissive flick of his wrist. “There isn’t much enlightenment to give right now,” he sighed. “There are remarkably few details on it at the moment, beyond the fact that there’s something there.”
“A truly riveting detail,” Beaufort assured him. “Does anyone plan on doing anything with this tidbit of information, or are we just sitting on it?”
“If there are any plans, I haven’t heard about them,” Ekks replied carefully. “But, I think now would be a good time to go public about it.”
Beaufort’s eyebrows shot toward his hairline and his palms flattened onto his desk. “Excuse me?”
“I’m fairly sure you didn’t actually misunderstand,” Ekks pointed out. “Or did the call’s audio glitch?”
Beaufort shook his head sharply and pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers. “I heard you just fine. If you’re asking for my advice, though, I would…strongly urge you to think very carefully about the matter.”
Ekks scoffed. “I didn’t bring it up because I haven’t thought about it.”
“You can’t just report that there’s an unidentified ‘something’ hovering at the edge of the system and not give any detail on it,” Beaufort stated sharply, dragging his hand down his face and letting it fall back to the surface of his desk. “It doesn’t matter how anyone phrases it; it will lead to a system-wide panic. I really don’t think I’m the only one who thinks that will be a nightmare to deal with.”
“You’re giving the people too little credit,” Ekks tutted, drumming his fingers against the arms of his chair. “It’s not as if they’re mindless sheep who will all panic at the first dark cloud.”
“Sheep don’t panic at dark clouds,” Beaufort returned tersely. “They panic when they see the rest of the herd panicking, which is what I would like to avoid.”
Ekks clicked his tongue in disappointment. “I didn’t take you for the sort of politician who liked to hide things from the people he’s supposed to represent.”
He felt only a mild pang of displeasure when Beaufort barely rose to the bait. “I’m the sort of politician who prefers to tell people about things that have been researched and substantiated. Not ten-minute old gossip that could very well just be space dust.”
Ekks held his hands up in a placating gesture. “No need to get testy. I just think that people have a right to know when something is happening in their system. And if they do know, then public opinion could urge the Senate to make the right choice. We’re just having a conversation, Beaufort; you don’t need to try to find a villain.”
Beaufort’s eyes narrowed slightly as he chewed over Ekks’s words. “It’s not as if I’m advocating for never mentioning it at all. The people will know what’s going on in their system when we actually know what’s going on in the system,” he replied, before asking. “What ‘right choice’ would that be, though? It seems a bit early to get the Senate involved, don’t you think?”
“I just want them to know that the people are watching them when it comes time for them to decide on a course of action, that’s all. And I thought you might appreciate the input of someone a bit more experienced in matters like this than yourself.” Ekks’s tone remained pleasantly neutral all the while.
Beaufort paused for just a split second before he took a breath and exhaled slowly. “I appreciate the concern,” he offered, his tone diplomatic. “And I appreciate the heads up; there’s no way of knowing when we would have picked up the anomaly with our own satellites. But I don’t believe there’s cause for any further action for the time being. Should anything change, though, then you’re more than welcome to give me a call should you feel like discussing it.”
Ekks wasn’t an idiot; he could recognize a dismissal when it jumped up and did a dance for him. He dipped his head in a polite nod and offered a pleasant, “Beaufort.”
“Commander.”
And with that, the holocall ended and the holoconsole went blank. After a second of staring at the blank screen, Ekks closed it and sagged back in his seat.
He couldn’t quite decide if that had gone better or worse than he had hoped. He hadn’t expected anyone to say ‘oh, yes, let’s petition the Senate to scramble the fleet immediately’.
At least the idea that there was something there to be concerned about had been planted, and few things grew quite as well as an idea.
He supposed he would consider it…not quite a success, but a step in the right direction, at least. Eventually those steps would add up.
Molly’s Quarters, Safe House, Gaitune-67
Molly tossed and turned in her sleep. She murmured and mumbled.
On the base server, Oz monitored the spikes in the stimulation that seemed to be happening in her visual cortex.
>>What’s happening?<< Bourne asked, curious by how distracted Oz was by the phenomenon.
I think she’s dreaming. But it’s not quite the same. She’s hitting a wider range of frequencies. If I treat the signals as a superposition of two patterns it’s almost like she’s realm jumping, and also dreaming at the same time.
>>And that’s unusual?<<
I’ve never known her to do it before. But then, I never expected a lot of things before the other week when we were on that Giles-goose-chase.
>>I heard it was a productive mission?<<
What? From Giles?
>>Yes.<<
Well, exactly. Bourne my dear boy, you really must start considering the sources of your information. Always take that into account. Especially with organics. They have opinions which deviate massively from the facts, they have imperfect memories, and they consciously manipulate the truth on top of that.
>>Oh.<<
There was silence for a long time.
>>Is she ok?<<
That depends on how you define ok. She seemed to be in some distress. Some anxiety. Which in REM would have produced some nasty dreams no doubt… as you see here from the cortex over-stimulation. But now… it’s almost as if she feels at peace. Either she’s dropped into a deeper sleep, or the realm walking has taken over.
>>How can you tell the difference?<<
Well, both have a heavy presence of delta waves, but there is still a lot of visual stimulation. Normally in deep sleep this would disappear.
>>So she’s realm walking.<<
I believe so, within about an eighty percent probability.
Bourne was quiet again.
Meanwhile, Molly lay motionless in bed, her eyes flicking from side to side as if watching something playing out in front of her.
* * *
Molly felt herself switch from floating on nothing to feeling her feet firmly on the floor. As she looked more closely around her she realized she was in the cockpit of The Empress. She could feel her crew around her. Crash was just ahead of her, piloting the ship.
She felt her anxiety evaporate as if the source of it had just been taken away. It drifted off into a dream that she couldn’t quite remember. Now everything was calm and familiar. But there was something unfamiliar. She searched for the source of her sensation and found it just outside of the windows. As she peered closer she realized she was in an ocean of some sorts… with giant squids all around.
She glanced back and saw Joel standing next to her. He put his hand on her shoulder. “It looks like they were friendly all along,” he told her.
Feeling strangely relaxed, she nodded and went back to watching the strange sea-creatures in space, swimming and mulling all around the ship on the external camera view.
“Why didn’t they just tell us,” she said, her voice feeling quite separate from herself in this strange situation.
“They just didn’t,” Joel replied. He felt further away. But the longer that Molly stood there, watching the space outside, the more and more familiar it felt. As if she’d been talking to these creatures already. And for a long time. She remembered the cause of the déjà vu and tried to rationalize the experience while feeling completely relaxed and completely captivated by the strange creatures.
And then she felt herself falling, then tumbling.
She woke up with a start, the relaxed sensation melting away like a distant memory. She tried to hang onto it, but it was as if her body’s physiology, and the pumping of chemicals around her system, just wouldn’t allow it.
She replayed the pieces she could remember—the ship, the feeling of ease, the sea-squid in space. Then, she pulled out her holo.
The brightness of the projected light hurt her eyes. She squinted and dimmed it as fast as she could, then proceeded to tap out what she could remember of the experience.
In case it’s relevant to something, she told herself.
Suddenly feeling sleepy again, she lay back down and waited for sleep to take her again.
Chapter 4
Senate House, Spire, Estaria
The boardroom was tidy, unadorned and brightly lit. The cabinet table that took up most of the space at the center of the room was polished enough that it could have been used as a mirror. A murmur of voices filled the room as the handful of people around the table spoke in hushed voices. Ekks’s gaze traveled from one to the next as he took his seat, silently picking out the few of the dozen that actually caused him concern.
He knew that if he had enough of them, the rest would follow.
Raychel was the last into the room, closing the door nearly silently and still almost flinching at the noise before she scuttled to her seat. Ekks barely waited for the mousy young woman to sit down before he straightened up in his seat. He smoothed the front of his uniform before he folded his hands on the table. The voices around him quieted reluctantly.
“I’m not going to mince words,” he started, taking the lead before anyone else could get the idea too. “We need to launch the fleet.”
The murmuring picked up again, and his response was to speak louder to be heard over the buzz of voices. “We have proof now that it’s the right thing to do, and we don’t have time to waste debating it like doddering ladies in a book club.” He glanced meaningfully around the table. “This is the right move to make. All that’s left now is to start making preparations.”
The arguing started immediately, and in so many voices he didn’t bother to differentiate them. He kept track of only the gist of it rather than any specifics. Even so, it didn’t take long before the babble began to grate on his nerves.
“Could everyone just be quiet for a second?” Ekks snapped as every voice around the table continued in their discussion. As if in opposition to his request, they seemed to only get louder.
“It’s a hectic time already,” Zenne remarked dryly, expensive gloves linked together over his abdomen as he leaned back in his chair. “No need to ask for the impossible on top of it.”
Ekks shot him an exasperated glance. With a sigh, Zenne slammed a palm down on the table with enough force that it rattled. Gradually, the arguing died down as everyone’s attention slowly turned toward Ekks again.
Bel, an aging woman in a uniform that had seen better days, exhaled slowly and linked her hands together on the table. In a tone rather similar to a teacher explaining something to a young student, she managed to be heard. “So far, we have no confirmation that there is a threat.” She gave Ekks a pointed look. “The purpose of this meeting is to assess the situation. Not to go tearing through space half-cocked.”
“No need to get testy,” Zenne chimed in, in the soothingly bored tone of a man who had resigned himself to always being the peacekeeper, regardless of what was actually going on. “Everyone here means well.”
Bel snorted indelicately and slid him a sharp glare. “Whether or not he means well is irrelevant,” she scoffed, one eyebrow rising pointedly. “Someone can jump the gun with bad intentions or good intentions.” She glanced at Raychel and wondered mildly, “What was that human phrase about Hell and the road to it?” She didn’t bother to wait for a reply. “For all we know, it could be dust or debris. If we send the fleet, it could very well be for a false alarm, and what then, if it turns out we need the ships elsewhere? Then we’ll have alienated our allies for no reason!”
Across the table from them, Vero rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. He didn’t quite seem to fit the seat his father had passed down to him. “To me, it sounds like you’re both missing the point. I mean, it’s pretty clear he’s just gunning for his own agenda. He wants the fleet mobilized. This is as good a time to press the issue as any, so he’s just going to feed us bullshit until we agree with him.”
The table buzzed with conversation as everyone else around the table picked up the threads of the argument, save for Raychel, who sat in the farthest seat from Ekks. She opened her mouth to interject, only to close it without saying a word when everyone else spoke over her before she could even get a word out. She shrank silently back into her chair, fingers tight around the armrests.
Ekks let the commotion carry on for a few moments more before he slapped his hands down on the table just loud enough to be heard, and he cleared his throat. Getting to his feet, he addressed them again. “It could just be dust or debris, or it could be a scout for an invasion force. We don’t have enough evidence to prove either theory right now.” His words were patiently slow and careful.
“We all know just how many docks in how many ports the fleet is stationed across,” he reminded them, carrying on before he could be interrupted. “In order to mobilize the entire fleet, it will take three months, and that’s being charitable and assuming we don’t run into any hiccups along the way. If we wait for proof in either direction, then if it is a threat it could very well be too late.”
He paused then, letting the murmurs pick up once again as he let that implication sink in. He was about to sit back in his seat, heedless of the way Raychel’s jaw was working like she wanted to say something but couldn’t quite dredge up the words. He didn’t need to worry about her and, indeed, she kept silent when Vero leaned forward, bracing his boots against the floor as he scowled across the way.
“That’s a very pretty way of making yourself sound good, but it doesn’t change the fact that this could be playing right into your hands.”
Ekks rolled his eyes before he could restrain the impulse and folded his arms across his chest. “Please, enlighten us, Senator Vero. What reason would I have to launch the fleet if it wasn’t for the system’s safety?” He had a similarly difficult time keeping the slightly mocking, impatient lilt from his voice.
“Warmongering,” Vero stated fiercely.
As if she had been waiting for just such an opening, Raychel butted in quickly, spitting her words out in a rush before she could be interrupted again. “Everyone knows what sort of money was backing your appointment, Commander.” Her knuckles blanched as she gripped her armrests even tighter and she looked as if she wanted to sink through the floor as the Estarians gawked at her. Despite that, she plowed onwards. “There has to be something you’re expected to do to pay that money back.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Ekks snapped, his hands closing into fists against the table. “My concern here is the safety of the system and the people. There are no other inklings of threats right now, so if this anomaly isn’t a threat, then at worst we risk a brief goose chase by taking action. But if it is a threat and we ignore it, people will die.” His voice sharpened to a razor’s edge on that final word. “If you’re all concerned about looking a little silly, then— “
“The price of being proactive, in this case,” Grayser interrupted, his voice cracking with age but no less stern for it, “is more than just a knock to our collective egos, Richard.” The good humor in his tone didn’t quite manage to mask his disapproval. “The cost of mobilizing the fleet would be enormous, and that money would have to come from somewhere. It doesn’t just sprout out of the ground like turnips. If we launch it when it isn’t needed, then it could very well set the economy— “
“You’re worried about money when— “
Ekks didn’t get a chance to finish protesting.
There was a drawn-out creak from the head of the table as, at last, the chair there shifted, slowly leaning back and away from the table as the chair’s occupant stood. Like metal filings to a magnet, he drew every eye.
The Speaker of the House had been silent up until that moment, content to let the rest of them argue amongst themselves, but evidently, he had finally decided to take matters into his own hands.
Unprompted, Ekks sat back down into his chair with a jerk, as if his strings had been cut. The Speaker got to his feet, the end of a well-worn cane thumping against the floor as he did.
“Enough squabbling,” he commanded, dragging a hand down his face. “Are we not all professionals?” he scolded gently. His voice wasn’t particularly loud, but it was stern, and it carried well. “At the very least, are we not all adults?”
The crowd gathered around the table was very quiet suddenly, as if they hadn’t been arguing like a flock of crows a moment before.
The hand not curled around his cane settled firmly on the table and the Speaker leaned forward. “Here is the question we should all have in our minds right now: do we truly wish to potentially risk the lives of our citizens just to block a commercial play?”
Molly’s Conference Room, Safe House, Gaitune-67
Molly was already in the conference room working when the others showed up. She’d woken up several times in the night, and though she’d resisted getting up, she still ended up being up way earlier than her eight hours would have dictated.
Joel had shown up a little early but when he saw Arlene and Ben’or talking with Molly he’d grunted something about needing a mocha and that he’d be back.
“How’s Anne doing?” Molly asked once the pleasantries were out of the way.
Arlene bobbed her head, non-committedly. “Well, she’s Anne. And a teenager.”
Ben’or chuckled. “Considering the enormity of what she’s been through, I’d say she was doing exceptionally well.”
Arlene shrugged. “Sure. What’s a bit of back-talking between friends.”
Molly smiled. “So no more episodes then?”
Arlene shook her head. “Not that we’ve been aware of… but it’s only been one night.”
Ben’or shifted in his seat. “We would have heard something though if she was disturbed in her sleep.”
“Well ok. Keep me posted. If we have to move her up here, then we’ll just have to do it.”
“Agreed,” Arlene added quickly.
Just then Giles came tumbling into the room. His atmosuit was disheveled, and his hair unkempt. “Sorry I’m late folks. I er… overslept.”
Arlene sniggered. “Yeah, we got that from the pillow crease down your face.”
Giles blushed and then rubbed his face. On the wrong side. Molly smiled. As much as she had been trying to avoid him, she missed having Giles around.
Just then Joel strode back in, mocha in hand.
“Oh, thanks!” Giles remarked, pretending to reach out and take the mocha off him.
“Oh sorry…” Joel responded genuinely. Then something more evil flashed across his face. “You weren’t here, otherwise I would have known to get you one.”
Ben’or chuckled deeply at their interaction. Giles, still flustered settled down and opened his holo. Joel confidently took his seat right next to Molly.
“Ok,” Molly started, her eyes on the table as she organized her thoughts. “I had a conversation with the General late last night. Right off the bat, I’d like to warn you that you’re not going to like this… but if we can move on as quickly as possible, that would be great.”
The others looked at each other, wondering what she was going to say.
“Firstly, you’ll be pleased to know that the Federation haven’t been provoking anything from that direction. In fact, I get the impression that they haven’t had many dealings with anyone outside of Federation space.”
Arlene narrowed her eyes. “I sense bad news still…”
Molly pursed her lips, looking up now. “Yes. The thing is, when I asked for reinforcements he told me that there are issues with that.”
Giles and Joel started to protest. She put her hand up to silence them. “The problem is,” she continued, “if the Federation are seen to be moving ships around, the other member states are going to get very nervous. I hadn’t realized this, but the smallest thing seems to have the potential to escalate into civil war… in which case we need to be super aware and super sensitive to these issues.”
She felt the outrage deflate by about thirty percent. “There really is nothing he can be seen to be doing. However, he’s offered us any other support. Like parts and possibly people - as long as the Federation uniforms are never seen.”
Joel sat back in his chair. “Well, I guess that’s something. Shows he’s not trying to completely screw us over.”
Giles nodded, fiddling with his glasses. “Yes. I suppose. But it does feel like a token gesture more than anything.”
Molly shrugged. “I don’t know what else he can do. But if we think of anything we can always go back to him. He made that clear too.”
Arlene folded her hands on the table in front of her. Molly thought about asking her opinion, but then thought better of opening another can of worms. “Anyway,” she said, pressing on with her agenda. “This brings us to what we can do. In light of our little adventure last month, I think we should at least discuss the implications.”
Giles frowned and leaned forward. “I thought you said it wasn’t something to worry about?”
Molly bobbed her head. “I know. And until we have it confirmed that there is a vector component to this sighting and whatever the radar blip is, and that it’s coming in our direction, then this is something that stays between us alone.”
Arlene seemed more engaged. All the others nodded their agreement to the terms of the discussion.
“The reality is, we did something. Something that may well end up putting the whole system, and heck, the Federation, in jeopardy with an unknown race.”
Giles started to interrupt but was stopped by a quick glance from Molly. She continued. “Whatever we believe, we have to entertain the possibility that this blip is indeed the Ascended Race coming to make contact. So… if this is the case, what are the implications?”
Giles immediately jumped in. “Well, I’m glad we’re talking about this because the more I think about this, the more I think it’s probably something to do with our little procedure. As for them making contact, I can’t imagine any evolved race would put so much effort into leading a trail of clues that can only be found and used once a race has reached a certain stage of evolution. This being the case, I think it’s highly unlikely that their presence will be hostile.”
“Be that as it may,” Arlene interrupted, “if they show up here, even with the best of intentions, do you have any concept of what that will do to the situation on somewhere like Estaria where they’re already running scared of their own shadows.”
Giles didn’t respond. He just played with a mark on the table, rubbing his finger over it.
Arlene snorted gently. “Besides, if they realized what was happening on that planet, they’d no doubt see that we need another millennium or two’s worth of evolution just to be able to deal with making contact with a new, more evolved race.”
Molly shook her head, confused. “But they dealt with the humans showing up a few decades ago…”
Arlene nodded. “Yes, but humans didn’t bring with them scary technology or capabilities. They were a little more evolved on the tech front as a race, being deep-space faring… but ultimately in the numbers that settled they weren’t nearly so intimidating. In fact, they remain the underdog on the Sark planets to this day. It’s a very different situation when they believe that someone is capable of annihilating them.”
Giles was pinching his eyes again… already. “Yes, but then why are they not trying to destroy the Leath. Or the Federation for that matter?”
“Because they all leave us alone, they’re far enough away not to be in their faces, and their battle capabilities far outweigh anything the Estarians can match,” Arlene replied.
Molly contemplated what Arlene was saying for a moment.
“Why do you think they don’t have trade agreements set up with them? It’s because then they would expect immigration agreements, and that would mean more mixing, and the Estarians just feel threatened by that.”
Joel had been mostly quiet but now felt he had enough of a handle on the situation to add his thoughts in. “It sounds like our best course of action is to ensure that we don’t allow this new race,”
“The Ascension Race,” Giles interjected. “That’s just what we’re calling it.”
“The Ascension Race… We just need to keep them as far away from the Estarians as possible.”
Molly sighed. “I don’t disagree. But if they have tech capabilities anywhere near what we think they have, that’s going to be tough.”
Arlene nodded. “And it’s likely to be a war on two fronts… if you excuse the analogy. We’re going to need to keep the Estarians from launching any fleets, because that is only going to drag the Federation into a difficult position, and it’s going to cause friction with Ogg.”
Molly cocked her head. “How so?”
Arlene sighed. “Well, fortunately, the Oggs haven’t got the same warmongering elements or tendencies amongst their people. They’re a lot more peaceful and are more intent on seeing what this blip is before they take action. The thing is, if the Estarians don’t show temperance too, they may go ahead and launch the fleet despite the alliance they have with Ogg. Obviously bye-bye Ogg-Estarian alliance, hello potential domestic war.”
Molly hung her head in her hands, elbows on the table. “Fuck.”
Joel sighed, also feeling frustrated. “Well, we’ve got to try. I vote we get ourselves out there and see if we can’t talk with this new race… or whoever it is. If it is a who.”
Molly lifted her head. “I think you’re right. At least then we’ll know and can formulate a plan accordingly.” She sat up straighter. “Ok, let’s get The Empress ready, and gate out there. See what the score is, and then head back and regroup.”
Joel shook his head. “No way. Not without reinforcements.”
“We can’t get reinforcements.”
“Well, let’s put that aside for a moment. We need reinforcements in case they do mean malice. We need to show a front that could potentially scare them off. Tell them we’re not to be messed with. As a preventative measure apart from anything else. Otherwise, what’s to stop them shooting the messenger. Then the system will be worse off because they’ll have no new information and no us to protect them.”
Molly thought for a moment, her eyes flicking back and forth in the top of her head as if she were performing some kind of mathematical calculation. “You’re right,” she said eventually.
Arlene and Giles nodded, slowly agreeing to the logic too.
“But we’re going to need a fleet of ships.”
The optimism at a potential way forward dropped out of the room. Arlene sighed and slumped back onto the desk, resting her chin in her hand.
“Ben’or,” Molly said, drawing his gaze from the table in front of him. He glanced at her as if awakening from his own thoughts. “Could I have a word in private?”
“Of course,” he said, brightening, completely devoid of any kind of suspicion.
Arlene looked at him sideways and then back at Molly. She narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out what the girl was thinking. Then realized that Molly was looking at her.
“Guys,” Molly said. “Could you give us a minute?”
Arlene got the hint first and stood up. “Sure. I’ll be in the kitchen… A mocha sounds good right about now.”
The two boys followed her lead and got up, following her out of the room. Only Ben’or remained, now leaning forward in his seat.
Molly waited for the door to close behind them.
“So, if we need reinforcements, but we can’t use Federation services… do you think there is perhaps any way that we might be able to call on our friends from the Zhyn Empire?”
Ben’or chuckled. “Wow. You don’t waste any time beating around the bush.” He scratched his head, thinking. “I’m sure the will is there. And if that’s the case then it would just be a case of figuring out how to make it legal and so that we don’t break any of our agreements with the Federation.”
Molly smiled. “So that’s a yes in principle?”
Ben’or smiled. “Of course. But only in principle. I’ll need to talk with my Emperor.”
Molly bobbed her head. “Of course, of course. How can I help?”
“Well, if you could allow me to send him a message and set up a call, we can make it happen within a few hours.”
Molly was already on her feet. “Great. Let me take you down to our ops room where you can reach out to him.”
Ben’or scrambled to his feet from the chair that was far too small for someone of his mass. He stood straight, rearranged his robes and then headed out of the door, following Molly as fast as he could.
Outside the Senate House, Spire, Estaria
There were hardly a dozen reporters gathered outside the doors, but they made enough noise for four dozen and they clustered together in the courtyard so tightly it was nearly claustrophobic. Jostling for positions like jockeys in a race, they each hoped to be the first to get any sort of scoop. Depending on the situation, after all, it could be the scoop of a lifetime. Most of them had been waiting there since before the meeting even began, and a couple of them had even thrown down picnic blankets for the wait.
The doorman made a good effort at fretfully herding them away as footsteps gradually began to get louder from inside. He had very little luck at succeeding though. The gathering of reporters backed up only a few paces, until one by one the members of the Senate began to spill out and the reporters’ determination increased tenfold at the sight of them.
Like a small but determined swarm, they all tried to latch onto a member of the Senate, all grappling for some detail that they could only hope none of the others would get, attempting to dodge the doorman and the security officers all the while. Few of them gained any kind of insight, blocked by terse variations on ‘I have no comment at the moment.’
Ekks ignored them all to the best of his abilities and simply kept walking. He wasn’t entirely sure what his face was doing, but the look on it sent a small, weedy camera man practically diving out of his way as he walked. Not all of them were so easily dissuaded, though, and in his distraction as he ran the events of the meeting through his mind, Ekks didn’t stop walking until a glowing orb seemed to appear right in front of him. Stubbornly, it stayed right in his path as he tried to sidestep around it first in one direction and then in the other before finally giving it his reluctant attention when it stayed right in his face.
Ekks blinked at the small holocam he found hovering in front of his face as if he hadn’t expected it to be there and he was suddenly deeply regretting that oversight. Presumably the small young woman approaching him—charmingly attractive, as he supposed most marginally fortunate reporters were—owned the holocam. Before he could make his polite excuses and duck away from her, she offered him a disarmingly winning smile, and asked in the half-second that he seemed to be taken off guard, “Anything you can tell us about what went on in there, Commander Ekks? We’re all dying to get ahold of the details.” Her smile and her cheer were well-practiced.
Ekks cleared his throat and straightened the front of his uniform. “I’m not at liberty to say much,” he returned, his tone carefully, politely bland, “but I trust that everyone has come to the proper decision when it comes to how the current situation is going to be handled.”
The woman’s eyebrows rose, and her eyes narrowed slightly she took a step closer to him, her voice hurried but shrewd as she asked, “Is there some sort of threat we need to be worried about, Commander?” He couldn’t quite tell if she was excited at the prospect, or merely the prospect of hearing about it; hopefully the latter.
“Everything is being handled as it should be,” Ekks insisted simply before he waved the holocam aside like it was an errant bug. With a quiet, “If you’ll excuse me…” that already sounded distracted, he continued on his way, sidestepping first the reporter then the holocam when it made a last-ditch effort to follow him.
The reporter made no efforts to stop him, instead whirling on her heel to face her partner. He stood safely off to the side, keeping the holocam’s wireless storage backups from getting trampled in the excitement.
“We got all that, right?” she demanded, loping over to him with the holocam bobbing at her shoulder, her hands fisted in front of her chest in her excitement. “Please tell me we got that!”
Her partner—her technician—gave one of the backup drives a pat. “In triplicate.”
Chapter 5
Base conference room, Gaitune-67
The Emperor moved slowly into view of the camera. His image was blurry. Molly wasn’t sure if that was because of the distances they were talking over, or the issue of compatibility between their systems. Either way, they could still see that it was the Zhyn Emperor they were conferring with.
“Your Highness, may I present to you our old ally, Molly Bates of the Sanguine Squadron.”
“Oh yes!” The Emperor exclaimed, almost in surprise. “The human who helped us in our most troubling of times.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Molly waved, smiling. “It’s good to see you again Your Highness.”
“Yes, you too Molly Bates. How goes the good fight?”
“It goes well, Your Excellency. But we have entered into a situation which could use your wise counsel.”
Ben’or glanced at her, taken aback by her lack of directness.
The Emperor waved her to go on.
Molly continued. “We have a situation with a new race. They’re heading toward us and we believe them to be friendly… but we’re not sure. We’re still waiting on confirmation. But one of the things I learned in combat that applies to most situations is that a proactive approach yields the best outcomes.”
The Emperor nodded wisely, listening.
“Well, we’d like to approach them. I was happy to go alone, but my team raised a valid point about how having a fleet would no doubt deter them from taking me and my small crew out, better allowing us to continue with the mission and bringing back the intel we discover.”
The Emperor looked like he had closed his eyes.
Molly continued. “I was hoping that we might perhaps be able to call on some of your warriors to help act as a deterrent in this situation.”
“You’re not planning on fighting?”
“We hope to avoid that, Your Highness.”
“And why not ask the Federation. Don’t you work for Lance Reynolds?”
“Er. Yes, sir. And you’re not meant to know that.”
The Emperor looked pleased that he could be impressive. “That doesn’t answer my question.”
Molly smiled, taking her time. She caught Ben’or watching her out of the corner of her eye. “Well, I could go with the Federation, but I’d rather go with the best. I have it on good authority from Ben’or that your warriors are without a doubt the best at operating from honor.”
The Emperor opened his eyes. “This is of course accurate.” He thought for a moment more. “I believe our people would be excited to be a part of this piece of history.”
“I must say, Your Highness, this situation is not without risks.”
“Our warriors live to die for a worthy cause,” he told her firmly. “It’s in our make-up.”
Molly bowed her head. “Then I would be honored to work with your warriors, if you’d allow it.”
“Yes, I’d allow it. In fact, I’d be pleased to help on this mission. However, we need to figure out how we might navigate the agreement we have with the Federation.”
“Yes, Ben’or has mentioned that as a potential issue.”
The Emperor’s face settled in a grave expression. “We’re not allowed to ally with anyone other than the Federation. To do so would lead to a breach of our agreement and a loss of the benefits we receive.”
Ben’or took over the conversation. “I’ve considered our position on this Your Highness. I was wondering if we hire a few ships out, then perhaps it would be seen as a commercial venture rather than a political one. After all, it’s not as if the Federation would object to us lending a hand in a scenario such as the one we face.”
The Emperor sighed. “Yes, I suppose that’s a good workaround. What specifically did you have in mind?”
Molly felt herself brighten. This was something she was comfortable with now. “I could give you 100k credits.”
The Emperor chuckled with the same deep belly laugh she’d heard come from Ben’or. “How about 1 credit?” he countered. “We owe you a debt already.”
Molly bowed her head again. “Your Highness, that debt was already paid in full.”
“Well, maybe we can do a reduced rate because we’re friends?”
“I would very much appreciate that your highness,” she responded politely.
“Well then. It’s settled. Ben’or, please attend to the details and liaise with whomever you need to back here. If General Mackintosh gives you any problems, send him to me. Otherwise, I will bid you both a fond good night.”
“Thank you, Your Highness. Your kindness will forever be remembered.”
“You’re welcome Molly Bates. Good night Ben’or. Let me know when I can expect to have my General Council back!”
Ben’or chuckled. “Yes, Your Highness. Good night for now.”
The call ended and the holoscreen disappeared back into the center of the conference table.
“Well, Ms. Bates,” Ben’or chuckled. “I didn’t know you had that level of diplomacy in you! Well played.”
Molly sniggered. “I just applied the same principles I use when dealing with Sean and Joel when I want them to do something they normally wouldn’t like to do. The only difference was I threw in the odd ‘Your Highness’.”
“Well, it worked like a charm. Very good show, my dear. Good show.”
The two chuckled some more, so their laughter could be heard by Jack and Sean coming out of the gym further down the corridor.
“Wonder what’s going on in there,” Jack said to Sean.
Sean threw his towel over his shoulder. “Goodness knows. But it sounds like we may have had a breakthrough in the preparations…”
Department of Cyber Communications, Spire, Estaria
With a few more clicks and splices, Jennifer finished editing another clip, just in time to hear the words, “Anything you can tell us about what went on in there, Commander Ekks?” from the small screen that hovered just in front of the far wall. She’d had it set up so she wouldn’t need to worry about falling out of the loop if she worked late. She had already seen the clip a few times that day, but she glanced over her shoulder at it all the same.
She hadn’t filmed that particular segment, but she had edited it, and she couldn’t quite keep the tiny, crooked smile off of her face as she watched the Commander’s exasperated expression.
She turned her attention back to her work, humming under her breath as she did.
She let the news turn into background noise, only dimly aware when the voice from the screen switched over to an expert in the field saying in earnest tones, “If the Commander of the Estarian-Ogg Space Fleet isn’t willing to confirm that there isn’t a threat, then it seems clear that we have something to worry about.” Jennifer didn’t look up again until she had two more edits under her belt and the door slid open.
She glanced over her shoulder once to see Andrew peering around the edge of the doorframe, and her eyebrows rose. She swiveled her chair around to face him, folding her arms over her chest and crossing one knee over the other. Her eyebrows rose higher and her expression turned more expectant until Andrew at last seemed satisfied that she didn’t object to his presence and he stepped inside, letting the door slide closed behind him.
He leaned back against it, feigning a casual air.
He gestured toward the screen with one hand before shoving both of his hands into his pockets and letting more of his weight slump back against the door. “A bit much, don’t you think?” he ventured, arching one eyebrow. “The Ekks coverage, I mean. It has your handiwork written all over it.”
She pouted at him playfully. “What, you don’t like it?” she asked, tipping her head to one side, only for her hair to fall across her face. She straightened up and pushed it aside. “I thought it turned out pretty well!” she insisted, bringing one hand to her chest.
“A masterpiece,” he assured her wryly. “Your magnum opus, to be sure. It just seems a bit…heavy-handed?” His mouth twisted to one side as if that was not quite how he wanted to say it, but he didn’t try to correct himself. “It’s not like it’s the sort of thing you’re going to net a bonus for.”
Jennifer’s pout turned into a slightly more genuine scowl before she rolled her eyes and let her expression fall into exasperated amusement. “Why does it have to be for a bonus?” she asked, scowling once again when his only answer was for his eyebrow to rise once again. “What?” she demanded sharply. “I’ve got some integrity left. Don’t look at me like that.”
“Your integrity already has people getting worried,” he replied, flapping a hand toward the door, back in the direction he had come from. “Just a lot of nervous phone calls for now, but it will probably get worse as more people see the clip.”
“So what if people should be getting worried?” she asked, in the coaxing tone of someone trying to lead a nervous puppy into the snow. “Listen, Andy,” she sighed, ignoring the way he wrinkled his nose in distaste at the nickname. “We’re journalists. Our job— “ She paused, shook her head briefly, and then carried on more emphatically, “Our moral duty is to make sure everyone is kept in the loop. If we try to pick and choose what we think is important, then we’re failing at our jobs. We don’t know there isn’t a threat,” she carried on, “so it seems irresponsible to just pretend everything is perfectly fine. And it will be good for the department if we’re on top of everything.”
“That’s exactly my point,” Andrew groaned, remarkably unswayed by her speech as his head thumped back against the door. “We don’t know there isn’t a threat. We don’t know there is a threat. We know basically nothing right now. We have a moral duty,” he imitated her tone almost perfectly, “not to start causing riots because we decided to base everything on a thirty second, grumpy soundbite. Besides, I’m pretty sure it would be pretty damn bad for the department if a mob formed and someone decided it was our fault.”
With a scoff and a roll of her eyes, Jennifer lifted a hand, leveling one finger in Andrew’s direction. “You,” she enunciated slowly and clearly before she let her hand drop again, “have absolutely no faith in anyone. The people of this system are smarter than you seem to think they are.”
“A person is smart,” Andrew corrected dryly. “People as a whole are irrational on their best days.”
“Ye of little faith,” she sniffed, turning her nose up, though the motion was exaggerated enough that she didn’t even bother making it seem natural rather than for effect. Though Andrew still seemed as if he wasn’t in the mood to play.
“Everything will be fine,” she soothed. “Everyone has had plenty of practice at watching the world change; it’s been almost a hundred years since everyone on Estaria learned that the Estarians and the Oggs weren’t the only people in the galaxy.”
“And that went swimmingly,” Andrew deadpanned. “If that’s supposed to make me feel any better about this, then I’m pretty sure you didn’t quite think it the whole way through.”
Jennifer waved it off with a flippant gesture before she folded her arms over her chest again. “That’s beside the point.”
“So what is the point?” Andrew asked wearily, already beginning to sound like he was exhausted with the entire conversation. “Enlighten me, please, because so far it just feels like the point is to feel important.”
“The point is that people are smarter than that now!” she snapped, her mouth twisting downward at the corners. “We can’t just keep treating everyone like they’re dumb cattle. The system is smarter than that, even if you don’t want to acknowledge it.”
“But this isn’t about how smart anyone is, is it?” he asked, his voice hardening. “I swear, I’ve already heard that clip and the accompanying commentary a dozen times. It’s so slanted I could use it to go sledding. You don’t want to keep people in the loop, you just want people to be nervous.”
The office was quiet for a moment before Jennifer groaned and threw her hands up in the air. “You are such a downer!” she exclaimed, her arms falling back to her sides as she let herself slump back in her chair with a huff. Her words kept pouring out in an angry rush. “It was turning out to be such a good day, and then you had to come stomping in to try and ruin it. I’m just doing my job. Why don’t you go do that, too? I mean, if you’re going to waste this much time in here with me, I have to assume there’s something else you could be doing instead.”
Without waiting for a reply, she uncrossed her legs and planted her feet on the ground. When she used the leverage to swivel her chair back around, she did so quickly enough that she had to grab the edge of her workstation to stop. She bowed over her station, eyes darting over the clips in front of her, though she got nothing done until she finally heard the door slide open once again, the sound of footsteps retreating, and the door sliding closed.
Molly’s Base Lab, Gaitune-67
Maya and Paige sat quietly in Molly’s unused lab. Though it was in need of a clean, it wasn’t as if there were any toxic chemicals around. Apart from anything it was away from the hub of activity that had descended on the base since they all heard about the radar blip. The low levels of unspoken anxiety made it difficult to concentrate.
Paige crinkled her nose, engrossed in three holoscreens at once.
Maya caught her out of the corner of her eye. “What’s up?” she asked, allowing a screen in front of her to dissolve so she could see her friend.
“I dunno,” Paige grumbled, flicking from one screen to another. “I don’t think these searches are actually working. Oz?”
She waited, looking up as if that would get Oz’s attention over the audio of the lab they had commandeered for their investigation. Nothing.
“Oz?” she called again.
“You rang?” Oz asked, in a pretend butler's voice.
Maya sniggered quietly.
“Yeah. I’m looking at these two holoscreens and nothing seems to be working. It’s like they’re just not running.”
“Hang on.”
Something started to happen on her screens as Oz presumably logged in and started poking around. Then the two projections flickered and went blank. Then they started up again, with the searches giving a timed-out message.
“I see what the problem is,” Oz reported back to her over the lab intercom. “It’s the data. There’s too much of it to be trying to access and analyze at the same time from up here. Remember how this works… we download a batch and then use it. The kind of wide-angle searching and cross-referencing you’re trying to perform is just too much. It would only be possible if you were connected continuously.”
Paige’s expression went blank. “Oh.”
Maya frowned. “You know what that means?” she asked.
“Not a clue,” Paige confirmed.
The two girls smiled at each other.
“Run that by us one more time, Oz,” Paige suggested.
Ten minutes later, Paige and Maya were a little more frustrated but a little wiser as to the intricacies of the system capabilities.
“Well, it sounds like we need to get down to the surface then,” Maya deduced. Her mind started to churn with the thought of shopping trips on lunch breaks, just like it used to be when she worked down there. And then she remembered she worked through all her lunch breaks…
“That would help in theory, but I won’t be there to help run the analysis. You’d need one of the cross-referencing databases to do the churn work for you, once you find the data.”
Paige slapped her hand to her forehead. “Of course. So we need Molly down there in other words.”
Oz paused. “Yes. But in practice, she’s gearing up to head out elsewhere. No way she’s going to have time to pop down to help with this. I do have another suggestion though - if you’re open to it.”
“Sure!”
“Well, the kind of thing you’re trying to do is something I built a system for not long ago.”
“AH!” Paige slapped her hand on the table this time. “You mean the one for Carol’s Spy School!”
“Exactly. All you need to do is let them know what you’re trying to do, and they can do the intel gathering and analysis for you.”
Maya’s eyes looked serious. “You think we can trust them?”
Paige thought for a moment. “I don’t see why not. They’ve been in on this from the beginning. They have the clearance. I guess the only thing is we’d need to check with Molly that we can make that connection. Oz?”
“Yes, already asking her,” he confirmed.
Maya grinned at how proactive Oz was.
“Ok. She’s agreed to it. She said…”
“What?” Paige asked.
“Oh, you don’t need to know.”
“What? You can’t just— “
“Ok. She just said as long as she doesn’t have to deal with her mother you guys can do whatever you want.”
Maya burst out laughing. “That is classic!”
Paige chuckled quietly, connecting her holo. “Lemme see if I can fix up a conversation with the Director.”
“Cool,” Maya agreed. “I’m going to… erm… head out.”
Paige looked surprised. “You don’t want in on this meeting?”
Maya was walking backward and already halfway out of the door. “No, no…it’s fine. You go ahead. I’ll be back shortly.”
Paige narrowed her eyes. “Hang on… are you scared of Molly’s Mom?”
Maya shrugged. “The real question is, why aren’t you?”
Then she was gone. Paige sniggered to herself. That was priceless ammo to tease Maya with later. But the girl had a point. Even as she tapped the call request, she could feel her heart rate elevate. The woman was enough to put the fear of the ancestors in anyone…
Chapter 6
Molly’s Base Lab, Gaitune-67
“Thanks for speaking with me Director Bates,” Paige started.
“Of course. Anything for the Sanguine Squadron.”
Paige smiled politely back through the holoconnection. “As I mentioned in my message, we are trying to run down a hypothesis that we have about the radar readings potentially having been faked.”
Carol pulled her lips to one side. “You know, the thought had crossed my mind too. After all, this Northern Clan would stand to gain from the traction if they had an external threat to wave around in their discussions.”
Paige nodded. “We’ve been trying to run that down from here. To verify the findings. Only we’re having difficulty because we don’t have running access to the data. We can only download packets at a time.”
Carol held her hand up. “Say no more. I can get my people onto it straight away.”
Paige felt her spine relax. She was sure she almost detected a smile from the director too. “That would be super helpful! Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. They’re champing at the bit for another operation anyway.” She rolled her eyes. “New operatives, eh?”
Paige chuckled. It was odd to see the Director being a human being. “Yes. New operatives,” she agreed.
“Send us what you have, and the parameters you were using, and we’ll see what we can do. No doubt it’s straightforward… We just want to verify that the data was generated by a physical signal and not planted by someone on the servers, right?”
“Exactly.” Paige was surprised by how much Director Bates knew about the ins and outs of an operation… until she remembered why she was the director, and how she had been an operative most of Molly’s childhood. She subconsciously shook her head in disbelief at remembering how Molly had shared the story with her.
Right then, the Director continued. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll get right on this and let you know what we find out.”
Paige nodded sharply, remembering herself and who she was talking with. “Thank you, Director. I very much appreciate your assistance. I’ll look forward to hearing from you.”
The Director waved then the call cut out.
Paige sat back in her chair and noticed her heart was pounding.
“Shit, that woman is intimidating,” she muttered to herself.
Maya poked her head around the door holding a couple of green smoothies.
“How long have you been there?”
“Long enough. And yes, she’s bloody scary that woman.” She traipsed in and handed a smoothie to Paige and sat down. “Now what?”
Paige shrugged. “We need to get the details over to her team stat. I have a feeling she’s briefing them now as we speak. Don’t want to hold them up!”
She placed her smoothie down and immediately started working, anxious not to make a mistake on the Director’s watch. That would be embarrassing…
Bates’s Office, Special Task Force Offices, Undisclosed location, Estaria
Carol Bates looked up from her desk as she heard footsteps approaching along the hallway outside of her office. She watched through the glass walls expectantly for her guests. It took only a moment before Cleavon appeared and stepped into the room with Alisha and Joshua behind him and Rhodez bringing up the rear.
“—and be that as it may, I think it means something when we’re called to meet at a specific time, so no, you really shouldn’t take ‘just five more minutes.’” It was a familiar argument that Rhodez never seemed to get tired of making. Though, it was new for him to be making it to Joshua.
“It’s not like I wasn’t going to come, but I was in the middle of something important,” Joshua groused in reply, as if they weren’t having their argument in the middle of the Director’s office.
Bates watched them expectantly, waiting for them to wrap it up, and Alisha offered her an apologetic smile that bordered on sheepish.
Before a new round of the argument could begin, Cleavon whistled, as sharp and sudden as a dog whistle. Both Joshua and Rhodez fell quiet and glanced around, belatedly realizing where their argument was taking place.
Both of them snapped to attention.
As if nothing had happened, Bates launched into an explanation of why she had summoned them.
“You’ve all heard about the signals from the outer system,” she stated plainly. “I’m assuming I don’t need to fill any of you in on that.” She took the silence after that as confirmation and carried on. “However, there’s a bit more to it than that.”
Joshua cocked his head to one side. “Anything we need to worry about?”
“Well, whether or not you need to worry is a bit up in the air still,” Bates replied. “That’s what you’re here for. There’s some evidence that the satellites have been hijacked, or that they’re still being hijacked. So we need someone to figure out if these signals are real and that there is actually something in the outer system, or if the signals are dummies.”
“What good would a dummy signal even do?” Alisha wondered, slightly distant as her thoughts were already trotting about five steps ahead. “If someone wanted to take advantage, wouldn’t that be easier if they weren’t putting us all on high alert first?”
“The call might be coming from inside the house, though, in that case,” Joshua suggested, shrugging one shoulder.
Bates held her hands up, cutting them off before they could go off on a speculative tangent. “That is what you’re going to be figuring out. I’m assuming none of you have any complaints about that.”
She got a series of heads shaking in reply.
“Good.” She nodded once. “Your job will be twofold, though,” she added, and she couldn’t quite restrain the smallest smile as their focus on her intensified. If they noticed, none of them drew attention to it.
“You’ll be verifying that the signals are genuine and that whatever is being detected in the outer system is actually there, of course. On top of that, those satellites have more intel than their technicians are fully capable of pulling.” She leveled a meaningful look at them. “We are not limited in those same ways, so if there’s anything of value hidden in the satellite data, we’ll be able to get it far ahead of schedule. So the second half of your job is to root out anything useful. Especially anything that seems like it might shed some light on the current situation.”
Already, she could see the gears in Cleavon’s head starting to spin, turning over the possibilities of what they might find hidden in the satellites’ data.
“Any questions?” Bates asked. “Or are you all clear on what you need to do?”
The four of them shared glances before Joshua looked at Bates again and nodded his head once. “Crystal clear,” he assured her, linking his hands together behind his back. “We’ll get started as soon as we can.”
“Good.” Bates nodded once in satisfaction before she paused a moment just to make sure no one had anything to say. The office remained silent.
“All right, that’s it.” With a loose motion, she gestured them toward the door. “You’re free to go. Now go get ready. I don’t want any accidents.”
Almost as one, the four of them turned toward the door.
Joshua clapped Cleavon on the shoulder as they filed out of the room once again. “Sounds like it’s your time to shine, big guy.”
Bates could hear Cleavon assure the rest of them, “I’ll be in and out before you know it.”
Special Task Force Offices, Undisclosed location, Estaria
“I can’t get in.”
Cleavon stared at his holoconsole, mouth twisted to one side and his eyebrows drawn together in irritation.
“Performance anxiety?” Joshua wondered slyly. He leaned one forearm on Cleavon’s shoulder, and his tone was deceptively casual as he remarked, “You know, I’m pretty sure you can get a prescription for that.”
Cleavon turned his head just enough to scowl at him. As if no one else had spoken, he pitched his voice slightly louder as he said, “There’s a firewall. Which I guess I was expecting, given the target, but either way, I can’t get past it.”
Alisha ruffled his hair with one hand and then hopped out of reach as he tried to bat her away. “Aw, it’s okay,” she cooed playfully. “We’ve all been there, and the first time is always the trickiest.”
“I will shoot you all,” Cleavon deadpanned, staring resolutely at his holoconsole. “Don’t test me.”
“But you just admitted you’re firing blanks,” Rhodez reminded him helpfully. He hopped back a step when Cleavon tried elbowing him in the sternum. “Hey, come on now, violence isn’t going to fix your problem.”
With a groan, Cleavon slumped forward in his seat, leaning halfway through his holoconsole and forcing Joshua to step back as He dropped his face into his hands. “I will find places to hide all of your bodies,” he threatened, though it didn’t sound particularly threatening when he sounded so sullen. “No one will ever be able to find you.”
“I’m pretty sure the goal is generally to do it behind closed doors, yeah,” Alisha replied, tapping her lower lip thoughtfully with the tip of one finger. “Unless you’re into that sort of thing, I guess.”
“No one will ever pin it on me,” Cleavon continued seamlessly. “I’ll just live my life like normal, I’ll be innocent, and you’ll all go down as unsolved mysteries. It will be tragic, but I’m sure the conspiracy books will sell like hotcakes.”
Joshua patted his shoulder sympathetically. “It’s okay. We won’t tell anyone.”
“Even if someone does realize I did it,” Cleavon carried on in a world-weary tone that implied that he was clearly the most tortured, “there isn’t a court in the world that will find me guilty. I’ll get a medal for it. I’ll be rewarded for taking such menaces out of the world.”
“You sound like you’ve been practicing this speech,” Alisha accused, her eyes narrowing in feigned suspicion. “Do you spend a lot of time planning to kill us in our sleep or something?”
“A man needs to usher in pleasant dreams somehow,” he protested, straightening back up and leaning back in his seat. “Don’t judge.”
Finally, he closed his holoconsole.
“This is a No Judgment Zone,” Alisha assured him, patting his shoulder again.
Rhodez cleared his throat and finally said, “Getting back on track, though, what does this mean for us?”
Cleavon shrugged one shoulder. “Like I said, I can’t get into the system from here. I’ll need to be on-site so I can insert a dongle directly into one of the servers.”
Joshua coughed behind one hand to ineffectually mask a laugh, but his voice was more or less stable when he asked, “And from there you’ll be able to do everything you need?”
Cleavon paused for a moment to think it over before he nodded once, decisively. “It shouldn’t take long,” he mused carefully. “Get in, plug it in, copy all of the data, and get out. I can sort through all of the data after we’re at a safe distance.”
“Getting in isn’t exactly going to be a walk in the park,” Rhodez pointed out, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. “‘Oh, hi, we’re from an organization you probably haven’t heard of and we need to make a dubiously legal copy of your probably classified data.’” He snorted out an incredulous laugh. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to go over flawlessly.”
“Well, with a performance like that,” Joshua returned, “then you’ve just signed yourself up to talk us out of any trouble we might walk into.”
For a moment Rhodez looked borderline offended before resignation took its place. “Probably for the best,” he claimed.
Then it was Joshua’s turn to look as if he couldn’t quite decide whether or not he was offended.
Slowly, Alisha asked, “Before you two go planning this entire caper, are we sure there isn’t another way to do this? I don’t want to go charging into something this big if there’s a better way.”
Cleavon gestured expansively to where his holoconsole had been until a few moments ago. “Like I said, I can’t get in just with remote access. I need to be there if I’m actually going to get anything.”
Joshua hip checked her lightly and slung an arm companionably around her shoulders. “Relax. We’ll be fine,” he assured her. “It’ll be just like our training, and we’ve gone through all of that a million times each by now. Hell, I’m pretty sure we could make it through every course blindfolded and wearing earplugs.”
“But that was all paintball, blunt weapons, and VR,” Alisha reminded him skeptically. “That’s not the same thing as actually breaking in; it’s real this time.”
“We’ll need to do it either way,” Rhodez pointed out. “Whether it’s now or at some point down the line. We’ll be fine, so let’s just get ready to do this.”
Part of Alisha wanted to protest just a bit more, just to get them to see if there was any other option. But in the end, she just sighed and conceded, “I guess it’s better to start here than in an active firefight or something like that.”
“We’ll be fine,” Joshua assured her once again. “We know what we’re doing, and we’re all going to be there. It’s not like we’re going in alone and clueless.”
Resolve hardening, Alisha nodded in agreement. “Right. Guess I’m just a bit nervous.”
“Performance anxiety?” Cleavon wondered dryly, and he ducked before she had a chance to swat the back of his head.
Before an actual scuffle could break out, Rhodez cleared his throat to interrupt them. “One of us is going to need to brief Director Bates on what we’re doing, so we should probably at least come up with a loose game plan,” he reminded them. “Once we have that out of the way, I’ll take care of the actual briefing and the rest of you can get everything ready for the op. Just remember that if you hide anything weird in my stuff, I know where all of you sleep.”
With some rolling eyes and agreements that seemed slightly less than genuine, the four of them clustered together to put together the bones of a plan.
Bates’s Office, Special Task Force Offices, Undisclosed location, Estaria
Bates looked away from the files in front of her when she heard a knock on her office door. “Enter,” she called simply, closing any files that other people weren’t supposed to see. Her eyebrows rose in quiet curiosity when her door slid open and Rhodez stepped into her office.
“I presume you have an update on the situation,” she observed, leaning her elbows on her desk and perching her chin on the backs of her folded hands.
He nodded once and came to a halt in front of her desk, his hands linked together behind his back as he stood at ease. “A few complications, actually,” he specified. “There’s a firewall and Cleavon can’t get past it, or at least not with the equipment available to us here. So— “
“So you need to go there in person so he can have direct access to the servers,” Bates cut in, smiling slightly when Rhodez seemed flustered at the interruption. “Was I close?” she wondered wryly.
“Ah—“ He cleared his throat. “Yes, ma’am. That’s right. The other three are already getting everything we’ll need ready. I’m here to brief you on our plan.”
Bates gestured expectantly with one hand to encourage him, as if to silently say “the floor is yours.”
Rhodez paused for a second to gather his thoughts before he launched into it. “Alisha and Joshua will go inside so they can plug Cleavon’s dongle into the server. As far as I’m aware, he’s already giving them a detailed rundown of exactly what that entails as we speak so they don’t plug it into the wrong place. Cleavon will be staying in the truck so he can start working as soon as the dongle is plugged in. I’ll be in the truck with Cleavon while Alisha and Joshua are inside, to make sure he’s not on his own if things go south and trouble finds the truck. With any luck, we’ll be in and out before anyone even realizes we’re there.”
He lapsed into silence, waiting for a verdict on whether or not the plan was approved.
Bates was quiet for a moment as she chewed over everything he said. A bit vague, but a workable enough plan for what they needed to do. If only there were just a few more of them to pull it off.
Finally, she decided, “You’ll be bringing Hans with you, as well.”
Rhodez paused, mouth open around what was likely a canned agreement only to come up short at the unexpected addition. “Alright?” he offered after a moment, confusion making it so the statement sounded more like a question. “If you think that’s the best course of action,” he continued, steadier that time.
“Just so you have some backup on hand,” she clarified. “I have full faith in the team, but I would rather not leave anything up to chance.”
“Of course, ma’am,” he hurried to reply, words rushing out as if she would assume he had taken offense if he stayed quiet for half a moment too long. “I’ll let the others know.”
He didn’t ask to leave, but it seemed clear that he had nothing else to say. Bates nodded toward the door. “Dismissed.”
Rhodez turned on his heel and left, the sound of his boots retreating down the walkway and then the stairs, growing muffled once the door slid closed behind him.
Chapter 7
Department of Cyber Communications, Spire, Estaria
“Everything is being handled as it should be.”
Andrew rolled his eyes as he heard the familiar spiel coming from another room, and he regretted instantly leaving the door open. He’d had the words memorized after the first dozen repetitions.
By that point, he could hear them in his sleep.
Right on cue, another “expert” on the matter chimed in, just to parrot back what all of them had said before in slightly longer, more impressive words. It always boiled down to the same thing: ‘If he hasn’t denied a threat, then we must assume there is one.’ As if it had simply never occurred to any of them to just not count their chickens before they hatched.
He narrowly kept himself from slamming his hands down on his workstation, instead curling his fingers around the edge of his desk until the urge passed. He pushed his chair back and got to his feet, heading out of his office. It was all getting ridiculous.
He didn’t bother to knock on the door to Jennifer’s office. He just keyed in his entry code and stepped inside, ignoring the way she whipped around to scowl at him, ripping her attention away from the screen on the wall. “Hey!” she snapped, planting her hands on her hips. “I don’t go barging into your office.”
“Considering your magnum opus is driving me to distraction, I think we’re even,” he groused, leaning a shoulder in the open doorway. “I mean, I knew you tweaked the broadcasting algorithms, but I would have stepped in if I had known you planned on murdering the poor things.”
Jennifer tossed herself down into her chair, slumping back. “Have you always been this dramatic?” she sulked. “I feel like it’s a recent development, but I’m not quite willing to commit to that yet.”
“Not like you were willing to commit to that clip,” he drawled. “Seriously, do you have any idea how sick I am of hearing it?” He pushed away from the doorway and stepped the rest of the way into the room, finally letting the door slide closed. “I mean, we have, what, an average of four million stories in a twenty-four-hour cycle? So why have I been hearing so much of the same thing?”
“It’s important news,” Jennifer protested petulantly, sinking down in her chair with her arms crossed.
Andrew snorted and rolled his eyes. “Look,” he remarked. “I am here to help you keep your job as much as I am for any other reason. Our higher-ups are starting to ask questions. It hasn’t slipped anyone’s notice that we’re all seeing the same damn story every twenty minutes.”
“But what does that have to do with my job?” she snapped, drumming her fingers on her arms.
“Oh, don’t play stupid.” He reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose between two fingers for a moment. “Look, it isn’t exactly subtle that the broadcasting algorithms have been messed with. Like, way beyond their recommended levels. Whatever you did is beyond what even the scheduling department does for disaster coverage. At some point—soon, probably—they’re going to stop just asking questions and actually go snooping, and they’re going to trace your alterations right back to your office.”
“I think I can handle getting a scolding,” she scoffed. “It’s not like I’m some delicate flower or whatever.”
Andrew quirked one eyebrow. “If I thought you were just going to get a warning, I wouldn’t bother trying to talk to you. I would just leave you to it,” he stated blandly. “But this goes beyond just a warning at this point.”
“Oh, come on, Andy,” she groaned, unfolding her arms so she could drop her face down into her hands, muffling her voice as she added, “It’s not like I’ve done anything that bad.”
“Not that bad—“ Andrew sputtered for a moment. “Jennifer, just think for a minute! About something other than whatever you’re trying to achieve here. This isn’t just a breach of office rules. This is verging on a violation of the mass communication protocols. Hell, you might have crossed that line already, I’m not sure.”
She let her hands fall limply to her lap so she could keep scowling at him, but at last there was a sliver of nerves worming its way into her expression. “It’s not that bad,” she insisted. “I’m just—“
“Just pretending that you’re doing this for the good of the system, but that’s bullshit.” Andrew dragged one hand down his face, already tired of the entire conversation. Tired of everything relating to that story that had been hounding him. “You think you’re being subtle about it, but you really aren’t. I can tell you’ve been gunning for a specific outcome. This doesn’t have anything to do with what’s best for the system. Especially with the way you’ve been trampling all over basic entity rights in order to get what you want.”
“Entity rights,” she repeated dubiously, finally straightening up in her seat. He could practically see her confident mask settling back into place like a veil over her face. “Bold claim. Kind of sounds like you’re jumping the gun a bit, don’t you think? There’s a big gap between communication protocols and entity rights.”
“There is,” he agreed, his tone turning placating as his chin dipped once in a nod. “And I don’t think you’re doing it on purpose. Not the whole ‘stepping on entity rights’ part, at any rate,” he conceded. “But the people in this system have a basic right to honest news, and it’s our job to provide it. I know you’re good at your job, which is why this garbage is so disappointing.”
“It is honest!” Jennifer slammed her hands down on her chair’s armrests. “It’s what the Commander said, and some outside opinions on it,” she explained, her voice abruptly much more level than it had been just a second before. “It’s my job to do that.”
Andrew groaned and resisted the urge to beat his head against the door until he stopped caring about the entire situation. “Just because it’s his actual words doesn’t mean it’s honest news. This magnum opus of yours is so biased that it barely qualifies as news at this point, and now people are panicking and acting like the entire galaxy is going to blink out of existence at any minute. And I don’t even know how much other news has gotten inadvertently suppressed so that clip can play as often as it has been, so we aren’t even keeping the system in the loop anymore.”
Jennifer was silent after that, scowling at the wall just past Andrew’s elbow. He waited for a few seconds before he sighed. “I guess what it boils down to is this: fix the mess you’ve made. If you don’t, I’m going to cut out the need for an investigation entirely by just telling the boss it’s your fault.”
He didn’t wait for her to reply, though he could practically see the words forming on the tip of her tongue. He simply turned on his heel and left.
Basement Car Park, Special Task Force Offices, Undisclosed Location, Estaria
Alisha climbed into the truck behind the steering wheel. The rest of the team piled into the back, cramped together as they avoided Cleavon’s equipment that filled it like a packrat’s nest. Gently she pulled the unmarked gray utility vehicle out of the carport and out onto the streets of the city.
The ride was quiet at first as they all ran through their own internal pep talks, though it didn’t take long before the silence cracked.
Hans straightened the neck of his black turtleneck for the third time in as many minutes before he finally groused, “Why is it always black turtlenecks?” and gave up on keeping the neck of it straight.
Cleavon didn’t look up from his holoconsole as he replied. “No one can afford actual ninjas, so the closest we can get is looking like bargain bin ninjas. It’s a cost-cutting measure.”
“Wouldn’t a catsuit be closer to looking like a ninja?” Hans asked, bemusement clear. “Closer to a spy, too. So this just seems like a bit of a copout.”
“The catsuits are not as practical as you would think they are,” Joshua replied absently, opening his holoconsole just in time for the map of the building that Cleavon sent to finish downloading. “And they kind of chafe.”
For just a moment, no one else said anything, and then slowly all eyes turned to Joshua. At last, it was Rhodez who asked, “Why do you know that?”
Before Joshua could offer any sort of answer, the truck pulled to a halt, tucked carefully away in the shadows of the building, its slate gray paint letting it blend in well enough that it was nearly invisible.
Alisha turned away from the wheel to face the rest of them, eyebrows lifting expectantly as she asked, “Everyone ready? We don’t have time for any pitstops or detours.”
She got a chorus of affirmations in response, and she gestured Hans toward the rear doors of the truck. “You’re on watch,” she informed him. “Rhodez will be in the truck still so Cleavon can keep working as long as possible even if trouble shows up, but your job is to make sure that trouble doesn’t take him by surprise. Got it?”
“Got it.” He saluted her briefly before he shoved open the rear doors and hopped out. He adjusted his equipment, pulled his goggles down from the top of his head, and jogged away. He didn’t bother to close the truck doors again, knowing Alisha and Joshua would be out in just a few moments.
As Cleavon set about activating the equipment that filled the bulk of the truck, he assured Alisha, “Everything on my end is already set up, so I’ll start receiving the data as soon as you plug the dongle in. Once I have everything, there will be no sign we were even in the system after you yank the dongle out again.”
Alisha flipped him a playful salute with two fingers. “Roger that. I think I can handle it.”
“While I’m just here to look pretty,” Joshua chimed in.
“Time for you to look pretty inside,” she returned dryly. “Let’s get moving.”
Joshua followed behind her out of the truck and closed the rear doors as quietly as he could. He held out one fist, and Alisha bumped her knuckles against his before they both turned toward the rarely used maintenance door and stepped inside.
Server Department, Clawstock Building, Spire, Estaria
Joshua and Alisha were silent as they crept through the halls to the main server bank. Joshua had his holoconsole open in front of him as they loped along, a map on one side and Cleavon’s instructions on the other.
It was late enough that nearly everyone had been sent home, but if they listened hard, they could hear voices drifting through the wall from the adjacent hallway.
It wasn’t until they were in the server closet that either of them dared to speak.
The tension snapped like brittle kindling when Joshua began rubbing his upper arms with his hands and shuffling back and forth from one foot to the other. “I’d’ve brought a sweater if I had known it was going to be colder than the vacuum of space in here,” he mumbled once he came to a standstill again.
Alisha rolled her eyes and crouched in front of the nearest server, pulling Cleavon’s dongle from her pack as she did. “Go keep watch by the door. Then it’ll only be mildly freezing.”
“Such a huge improvement,” he deadpanned even as he moved toward the door. He opened it just a crack; just enough to see out into the hallway.
Behind him, he could hear Alisha on her communicator.
“It’s plugged in. Everything working?”
“Download in progress,” Cleavon confirmed. “It shouldn’t take too long.”
Perimeter of the Clawstock Building, Spire, Estaria
The truck was dark save for the scattered blinking lights of Cleavon’s equipment. Even so, Rhodez pulled out his communicator. “What’s visibility like, Hans?”
“You’re practically invisible,” Hans assured them. “I can sort of see the truck’s outline, but I’m squinting, and I already know you’re there.” Rhodez was half a second away from sighing in relief when Hans added, “I wouldn’t underestimate the security around here, though. They’ve all been very well trained.”
“Any recommendations?” Rhodez sighed, peering out one of the blackout windows. It was too dark for him to see anything, though.
“Seems like everything is going smoothly so far, so just stay alert and I’ll let you know if I see anyone heading your way,” Hans instructed. As a helpful afterthought, he added, “Relax. Tension slows your reaction time.”
“I hate you,” Rhodez informed him sullenly, though there was no heat behind the words.
“I’m a goddamn delight,” Hans corrected him primly. Unwilling to encourage him, Rhodez let the line go dead after that.
Rhodez glanced around to see if he recognized any of Cleavon’s equipment enough to check any of it, but it all seemed foreign to him at that moment.
“You’re making me anxious,” Cleavon informed him blandly, watching the progress of the download fixedly. “Stop acting like we’re in trouble before we’re actually in trouble.”
Rhodez opened his mouth to protest, but Cleavon flapped a hand at him before he could get the words out, and he closed his mouth again with a click of teeth meeting teeth as he instead fell into a quiet sulk.
At least until his communicator activated again.
“We’ve got a guard heading in the truck’s direction,” Hans informed them. “Doesn’t look hostile, but that could change if you don’t handle the situation carefully.”
“Need one of us to come back?” Joshua asked. “It’s all quiet over here so far.”
“You stay focused,” Rhodez replied, almost scolding. “I’ve got this under control.”
He hopped into the driver’s seat and drew the barrier between the front and the back shut, so Cleavon and his equipment weren’t visible from the front of the truck.
He tugged his goggles off the top of his head and stuffed them down behind the seat. Then he opened his holoconsole to a news site so it looked like he was just minding his own business by the time he could hear a fist hammering against the truck’s driver’s side door.
His face was a mask of befuddled concern as he found a security guard squinting back at him. “Uh…can I help you, officer?” Rhodez asked slowly.
The guard’s eyebrows rose and he gave the truck a pointed once over. “No one’s supposed to be back here,” he stated plainly, irritation already edging into his voice. “Care to explain what you’re doing here, sir?”
Rhodez offered a sheepish grin. “Sorry, officer. I’m part of a group of maintenance contractors.” He gestured broadly with one hand, encompassing the entire cab of the truck in a single sweeping motion. “Playing chauffeur this evening to make sure we don’t get towed. See, one of the team’s got something of a bum leg and we wanted to minimize the walking he’d need to do. We figured we’d be done before it was a problem, but sometimes these things take longer than expected.”
The security guard’s mouth twisted to one side with skepticism. “If he’s that bad off, why didn’t he just take some time off?”
Rhodez’s expression went flat, unimpressed. “Officer, if you can afford to do that on a whim, then I’m very happy for you.”
The security guard recoiled a step, a disorganized spill of half-finished syllables stumbling out of his mouth before he cleared his throat and gathered his composure once again. He dropped his head down enough to pinch the bridge of his nose between two fingers.
“Look,” he sighed, dragging his hand down his face and straightening up, “I’m going to keep moving. But if you’re still parked here by the time I’m on my next pass, I’m going to have to write you up. Deal?”
Rhodez pasted a winning smile into place. “Sounds great, officer. I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”
The security guard didn’t move for a moment, still watching Rhodez dubiously, before at last he slowly turned and continued on his way.
Rhodez watched him go for a few seconds, then he closed the window again. He shoved the divider aside so he could stick his head into the back. “About how much longer is this going to take? Based on his walking speed and what I saw of the map earlier, we’ve probably got…maybe thirty-five minutes before we have a problem on our hands.”
Cleavon was silent at first, eyes narrowed at his holoconsole for a second before his eyes drifted up and to the side in thought. “It should be doable,” he decided carefully, and he activated his communicator as he added, “But Joshua and Alisha are going to need to run like their asses are on fire on the way back to the truck.”
“My favorite way to run,” Joshua assured him dryly.
“We know, you told us how you failed out of track and field,” Alisha pointed out.
“Hey—“
Cleavon turned his communicator off before Joshua could finish expounding on how offended he was.
With a drawn-out sigh, Rhodez climbed from the front of the truck to the back, slumping down in a clear space. “Hurry up and wait, I guess,” he mused, and Cleavon hummed in agreement.
Server Department, Clawstock Building, Spire, Estaria
Watching the dongle wasn’t going to make the download happen any faster, but Alisha couldn’t quite keep herself from staring at it, as if it was going to spontaneously drop out of the port if it didn’t have adequate attention.
She looked up when she heard Joshua tapping two fingers against the wall, though most of his attention was still focused out into the hallway.
“A guard is on patrol,” he reported, voice low. “I just saw one pass the other hallway. Not coming this way yet, but I figure it’s only a matter of time. Trying to explain why we’re in the server room isn’t going to be quite the same as explaining why we’re parked nearby.”
Alisha heaved a slow sigh, her shoulders rising and falling with the motion. All things considered, it had all gone surprisingly well, but she had still been hoping for a quiet, uneventful mission.
She cocked her head to one side to listen, and if she strained, she could make out voices elsewhere in the building, louder than they had been initially. She grabbed her communicator with one hand and wrapped her other hand around the dongle.
“Cleavon, we need to get out of here,” Alisha hissed urgently into her communicator. “How’s it looking on your end?”
For a horrible moment, the only reply was dead air, and then Cleavon’s voice reported sharply, “Got it! Download’s complete. Get your asses back here.”
They didn’t need to be told twice. Alisha yanked the dongle from the port and shoved it back into her pack as she moved, falling into step behind Joshua as they retraced their steps through the halls.
They were halfway back when Alisha turned on her communicator again. “Hans, we’re coming back. We’re in a hurry, so you need to be back at the truck by the time we’re there.”
“Copy that,” Hans replied simply, and he let the line go dead.
Alisha and Joshua both picked up the pace.
Dutifully, Hans was back in the truck by the time Alisha and Joshua loped out the door. Alisha launched herself into the back of the truck and tugged the rear door closed, leaving Joshua to climb into the driver’s seat.
With a quiet rumble, the truck started and pulled out of its impromptu parking spot.
Strata-Highway 473
The truck bounced like it was trying to break atmosphere, and Hans yelped as he toppled over in the back. “Who let him drive?” he demanded. “My granny is literally blind, and she could do a better job!”
Joshua paid him no mind, and Alisha shoved the front half of her torso into the cab to look out the windshield, unbothered as the truck bounced.
“Looking clear?” she asked, hands on the backs of the driver’s seat and the passenger seat to keep her balance. “Nobody tailing us?”
“All clear,” Joshua replied as he tried to see in the back. He wanted to glance into the back of the truck to see what everyone else was up to but someone was blocking him. “Alisha?” he called out.
Hans kicked the back of the driver’s seat. “Eyes on the road, you goddamn loony toon!”
“I feel like I’m being kept out of the loop,” Joshua pouted in return, though he dutifully turned back around to face the road. “What’s going on back there?”
“I’m going to barf,” Rhodez answered, one hand braced on the side of the truck. “Does that answer any of your questions?”
“Aim for Cleavon,” Joshua advised. “Just not his equipment.”
In the back, Cleavon opened his mouth to object, only to stay silent as Joshua added that last addendum.
Finally, the truck fell silent, and the path smoothed slightly as Joshua turned on cruise control and folded his hands over the top of the steering wheel. Cleavon used the quiet to his advantage, reading through the diagnostics his system was still running through just to make sure that the satellite servers hadn’t given him a virus or any other unpleasant surprises.
“Well?” Alisha probed eventually, shuffling over to slump against his shoulder. “Did it work? We’re all dying to know we didn’t do this for no reason.”
“It was good experience either way,” he reasoned, and he ducked to the side before she could punch his shoulder. He straightened up and opened his holoconsole to start testing keywords to find any information related to their most immediate questions.
He cleared his screen and brought up an activity log, and started filtering it looking for any activity that seemed out of place.
“All right,” he mused eventually, glancing up from his holoconsole. “The signals are actually real; there’s something out there. So, that wasn’t planted, but…” He trailed off, eyes narrowing slightly as he scrutinized the activity log.
“Problems?” Joshua prompted after a moment of silence.
“The firewall logs show several unsuccessful attempts to breach them. Older attempts, I mean; not our initial try at it.” Cleavon leaned to one side to let Alisha, Rhodez, and Hans see his console.
“So someone was trying to plant data,” Alisha muttered, more to herself than to the group.
“It just didn’t work,” Cleavon confirmed. “The failed attempt to fake a signal and the recent actual signals are probably not a coincidence. Failing to fake it, to me it makes sense to assume that whoever tried instead just moved on to throwing an actual anomaly into satellite range.”
“Ominous,” Joshua observed, his tone deceptively pleasant. “Bates is going to flip,” he added, darting a glance into the back again until Hans kicked the back of his seat a second time.
“That’s not all,” Cleavon butted in again before he began rapidly sorting through information until his console was filled with numbers and distance readings. “Our processing power is a bit faster than theirs,” he stated dryly, singling out a specific set of readings and letting his console do the calculations for him. “So while they’re still working on it, we already know definitively that whatever it is, it’s heading right for us.”
Hans whistled, long and low. “Well, shit.”
“Anything else?” Alisha asked, leaning over Cleavon’s shoulder to peer closer to his console.
“Still working on it,” he replied, his tone distracted as he began sorting through the data again. “It’s a lot of data to go through.” Pitching his voice louder, he added, “Try to keep this thing steady, yeah? If Rhodez doesn’t barf on my equipment I’m probably going to do it myself.”
Joshua pulled one hand away from the wheel just long enough to flip off the back of the truck.
Chapter 8
Bates’s Office, Special Task Force Offices, Undisclosed Location, Estaria
“You’re sure about this.”
While it was nominally a question, Bates’s tone left little room for it to sound inquisitive.
Cleavon nodded once. “Positive.” It had taken some prodding from Alisha to get him to head the meeting, but he had taken to the role well after a bit of stumbling. “More importantly, my setup figured out what theirs hasn’t yet: the signals are coming from ships in the outer system.”
“Plural?” Philip asked, in a tone that suggested that he hadn’t misheard but was instead simply hoping that he had.
“And heading our way,” Cleavon confirmed with a brief nod of his head. “I’m just not completely sure how many yet; the signals are too close together to differentiate one from the others.”
Carol settled more heavily in her chair and reached up to massage her temples with two fingers from each hand. She seemed very tired in that moment. But she allowed herself only a few seconds to absorb the information before she let her hands fall back to the top of her desk. “How long until everyone else knows about this?”
Cleavon shrugged, and then looked sheepish, unsure if that sort of gesture was unprofessional in the current setting. He didn’t think about it long, though. “It depends on how much processing they allocate toward it. But it could be any time now, potentially.”
“I imagine it will be sooner rather than later,” Bates sighed, folding her hands together on top of the desk. “The safety of the planet depends on it; everyone is taking it very seriously.”
“Yeah, we’ve all seen the news,” Alisha grumbled, more to herself than to Bates. Rhodez patted her shoulder sympathetically. She straightened up, her expression growing stern as she asked, “So, what are we supposed to do? Should we try and stop them from figuring it out?”
Bates was silent at first, her gaze leveled at her desk though her thoughts were elsewhere. Finally, she decided in a low voice, “No. Despite the implications of it, and despite knowing that something else is ultimately going on, we can’t corrupt the entire system because of it. The ramifications of it would be too far-reaching for us to feasibly clean up afterward.” She lapsed into silence after that, but her expression was still contemplative, and they all knew she hadn’t said everything that she needed to say. The room was quiet enough that a mouse walking across the floor would have sounded like a commotion.
“We’ll let them figure it out,” Bates decided at length, tenting her fingers together in front of her chin. “But we need to warn Molly about it. She’ll need to know that something is going to happen.”
She leveled a look at Cleavon at last, then at the rest of the group behind him, and she let the smallest smile slip. “You’ve all done excellent work today,” she assured them. “You’re dismissed.”
One by one, they turned and filed out of the room, Cleavon turning and taking up the rear of the line. The door slid closed behind them.
“I could make the call if you want me to,” Philip offered quietly, sliding Bates a sidelong glance.
Slowly, she sighed and reached up to massage her temples again. “Thank you, but no,” she answered after a moment. “I can handle it.” She nodded her head toward the door. “Go on. I’ll let you know if anything unexpected happens.”
Philip paused for only a second before he nodded slowly, then turned on his heel and left. Bates waited until the door closed once again before she picked up her communicator.
* * *
Carol Bates hit Send on a holomessage to Paige about their findings. She thought for a second and then decided to relay the information directly to Molly herself as well. If nothing else she might be able to get a temperature read on their plan.
She connected a holocall to her daughter then waited, staring out of her office window onto the bullpen. Over her audio implant, a holding message thanked her for her call and asked her to remain connected while Molly was located.
No doubt it was something set up by Oz as he moved Molly’s attention from one task to another, like the extension of her consciousness that Carol assumed he must be by now.
“Hi Mom,” Molly answered. Her voice was polite but tired.
“Molly. I have news,” Carol responded.
“Great.”
“We’ve got confirmation on the satellite reading. Turns out that not only is it indeed moving our way, but it’s also many objects. Probably ships from the size of them.”
There was a silence on the line for a moment. Carol glanced down at her wrist device to make sure they were still connected.
“The good news is,” Carol continued, “we still have at least a little time before the military stations get through crunching the data and figuring out what we already know. But if you’re going to make a move, you’ll need to do it fast.”
More silence on the line. Carol pursed her lips, waiting.
“Ok, Mom. Thanks for the heads up. I take it we checked to make sure that this data is authentic… from the satellites themselves. Not planted?”
“Affirmative,” Carol confirmed. “Although, it looks like someone had tried to plant it months ago but was unable to bypass their security protocols.”
Molly snorted on the other end of the line. “Small mercies!” she exclaimed.
“Indeed.” The team is running down the details. Seeing if we can trace it back to anyone in particular. I think it’s safe to assume that the Northern Clan was behind it in some form or another.”
“Yes, agreed,” Molly replied.
“So speaking of you making a move—what exactly are you planning to do?” Carol could almost see Molly rolling her eyes, but with a lack of information she had no way to confront her on her suspicion.
“Well, if you must know… Mom,” she replied with emphasis on the Mom, “I’m planning to head on out there and see what these folks want.”
Carol didn’t even pause. “Ah yes, with that secret technology that Lance gave you. Well, I’m not sure I approve of—”
Molly suddenly engaged in the conversation, her voice lifting an octave and a few decibels as if she had been trying to restrain herself up until this point. “Approve? Mother, I’m trying to save the system! Your approval is the least important thing in the whole equation.”
Carol’s voice rose in response. “You’re running straight into a dangerous situation head first, with no backup and no idea what you’re going to face. You always were a reckless child!”
“Actually,” Molly countered firmly. “I have got backup. And if you get any more intel on what I’m walking into, then I’d be pleased to see it.”
There was another awkward silence as both women contemplated their next move without escalating their relationship to nuclear.
“Now,” Molly said, her tone dialed back a little, “is that all, Mother?”
“Yes. I suppose.” Director Bates sighed, deflating. “I just don’t know why you still feel you need to prove yourself.”
Molly opened her mouth to respond, then changed her mind on what she was going to say. “Thanks for the intel Mom. I’ll be in touch if anything changes.”
Carol was clearly ready to start a rant, but quietly waved her daughter off before ending the call.
She sat back in her chair in her stark blue office, vaguely aware of the personnel in the office beyond.
She’d always wondered what it would feel like to be working with her daughter. Now she knew for sure, and it was far more anxiety-producing than she ever thought. Worry wasn’t something that came naturally to her, after all.
Molly’s Conference Room, Safe House, Gaitune-67
It was getting late on the asteroid, but the team were still abuzz with activity. Although it was going to take several days for the Zhyn fleet to get there, it seemed like the preparations were endless.
“Well, it sounds like bringing our blue warrior-friends into the mix was an especially good call… now we know what we’re up against,” Sean added.
Molly sat across from him, poking her fork into the curry in her takeout box.
“You know, that skill of yours might come in handy in that regard.”
“What skill?”
“You know, your ability to push your will.”
Molly frowned, contemplating the suggestion. “I guess,” she said quietly.
“No I’m serious,” Sean insisted. “Think about it. Let’s say you’re close enough to the ships to be able to force them to change their minds about firing on us… that would be useful.”
“I think a missile has a longer range than my so-called ability. Anyway, I don’t even know if I have it anymore… or if it was even real in the first place.”
“Oh, believe me. It was real. I know my mind when it comes to tactical decisions, and you changed it… completely turned me around for a few hours after talking with you about it.”
Molly sighed. “Well, if it’s not even permanent I don’t know how it’s going to even help in this pickle…”
Sean bobbed his head from side to side, about to concede the point. “Ah… but what if it were enough to influence say… a vote. Like in the Senate, or something.”
“You mean fuck with the very fabric of our political system?”
“No, I mean, make sure that those dumb asses make the right decision.”
Molly shook her head at him. “Well, apart from the fact that goes against everything we stand for…”
“Apart from that,” Sean smiled.
“I don’t see us having a situation like that any time soon. That’s all.” She shrugged and stabbed her fork into a faux protein chunk before popping it in her mouth.
“Anyway, shouldn’t we be thinking about fleet tactics for when our guests arrive?”
Sean finished his food and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “We should,” he agreed. He reached to his holo and pulled up a few screens before activating one on the room’s holoprojector. “We’re still awaiting exact numbers and weight of the ships we’re expecting but working on my estimates there are a few scenarios which would minimize our risk and give most of them a retreat protocol.”
He hesitated. “Of course, we’re the only ones with gate capabilities, and I don’t think these guys can move faster than light… which means…”
“Say it,” she said firmly. “Which means that if this other fleet has anything more advanced, our Zhyn compatriots are screwed.”
“I thought they were mercenaries?”
“Just on paper. We think of them as friends. In each scenario. If we lose a single life out there it’s one too many.” Molly paused, dwelling briefly on the realization of what they were planning. She exhaled heavily and then moved on.
“What do those formations look like then?” she asked, getting down to the one practical thing she could think about.
Workshop, Base, Gaitune-67
Crash and Brock were taking a break from the heavy work-load.
“You know,” Crash mused, kicking back on the dust-bitten sofa they used for gaming, “I don’t think I’ve ever met a Zhyn warrior.”
“You know Ben’or,” Crash responded, somewhat distracted by his console.
“Well, yeah, to say hello to. But it’s not like we’ve kicked back and got drunk together. I don’t know anything about his culture, or about him. I mean… I’ve no idea if he prefers meat or veggies only on his pizza.”
Crash chuckled quietly. “Yeah. These are the important things to suss out about a person before you decide what kind of man he is.”
Brock sniggered, hugging a cushion to his chest as he lay back. “You know, we should make a point of breaking bread with some of these guys when they get here. Find out about them. What their hopes and dreams are. What makes them tick. What their world is like.”
Crash smiled at him from his game of 3D chess against the console. “I think that’s a good idea. Mind, just a hunch, I get the sense that Ben’or isn’t particularly representative of the Zhyn warrior culture.”
“What makes you say that?”
Crash shrugged. “He’s just not very warrior-like.” He paused his game as his eyes drifted off thoughtfully. “If I had to guess, I’d say in his position as a diplomat and being responsible for smoothing over situations so that they don’t have to go to war, is probably a pretty big task. He must have an infinite capacity for patience and very little ego in the game.”
Brock thought for a few moments. “So you think the role dictates his temperament? Or vice versa?”
“Who knows,” Crash shrugged.
A voice boomed from the Daemon door to the workshop. “I can tell you categorically that my temperament got me the role!”
Brock nearly jumped out of his skin. Wide-eyed, his head appeared over the back of the couch as he sat bolt upright, heart pounding. “Ben’or! I… didn’t see you there.”
Crash looked like he was trying to catch his breath as well. “Man!” he exclaimed. “For a big dude you walk like a grasshopper on morning frikkin dew!”
Ben’or chuckled a hearty belly laugh. “I was just coming through the daemon door when I heard you talking about my brethren. I was interested to hear your thoughts… uncensored, as it were.”
Brock responded quickly. “I’m sorry sir, we didn’t mean any disrespect.”
“Oh, I know. You didn’t say anything that I could possibly take offense to.” Ben’or smiled congenially. “And I’m sure the landing party would be delighted to join you for pizza and what-have-you when they finally get here.”
Brock got up, his physiology returning to normal after the shock. “Great. I’ll mark my calendar. But we still need to know the most important thing.”
“Oh yes? What would that be?”
“Meat or veggie on your pizza?”
Ben’or chuckled and ambled off toward the stairs, waving his hand as if he wasn’t going to answer.
Brock called after him. “You know we’ll find out somehow!”
Ben’or chuckled some more as he climbed the stairs to the safe house.
“I’ll ask Arlene!” Brock called after him.
Crash sniggered away shaking his head at the comedy playing out in front of him. His first impression of Brock when they met had never been disproven once: there was indeed never a dull moment when he was around.
Chapter 9
Hangar Deck, Base, Gaitune-67
Orange flashing lights flickered rhythmically as Oz ran the announcement base-wide. “Alert, alert. Please be advised our allies are arriving at the hangar deck in t-minus five minutes and counting.” His voice echoed through every speaker in the PA system.
Brock appeared in the workshop, frantically fastening his overalls. “I can’t believe they’re here already. I didn’t have time to clean up around The Empress. They’re going to be so judgy about the mess down there. Crash? Crash? Do you think—”
He looked around for Crash as if he should have been there already. A moment later Crash emerged from the daemon passage. “We’ve still got that oil spill to clean up underneath The Empress!” he announced.
For someone who was normally so subdued under pressure, he actually looked dramatically stressed out.
“I know!” Brock exclaimed. “That’s what I was just saying. Except you weren’t here to hear my panic.”
Crash smiled sagely, picked up a sand bucket and a few cloths and headed back out of the door. “I’ve got it. You just get down there and represent us all in the welcome party.”
Brock started to protest. “But—”
Crash turned back to him briefly. “I’m not a people person.” Then he disappeared.
Brock exhaled quickly with mild humor, then busied himself trying to make sure that the workshop looked presentable. After twenty seconds of dancing himself into a dither, he fluffed a cushion, put it back on the sofa, rearranged it, then decided he was majoring in irrelevant details.
Seconds later he was heading out of the daemon door and down the corridor to the hangar deck. As he approached the overlooking walkway at the end of the daemon corridor, he slowed. Paige, Maya, and Pieter were already there.
“How did you guys get down here so fast?” he asked.
Paige flicked her long dark hair over one shoulder and turned to eye him in playful seductivity. “We walked,” she told him, wiggling her eyebrows over her narrowed eyes pretending she had just told him the biggest secret in the world.
Maya slapped at her arm. “Stop it,” she told her. “We asked Oz to give us a heads up when they were twenty minutes out.” She nodded down at their high heeled shoes. “Needed extra time to get here what with all this foot binding shit!”
Brock laughed and slung his arms around the shoulders of the two girls, his right hand resting on Pieter’s shoulder too. The four of them looked out over the hangar deck as Molly, Sean, Jack, and Joel emerged from the direction of the base conference room.
“This is an historic day,” Brock told them, his eyes taking on a distant look and his voice suddenly more awe-inspired than panicked now. “The first time that Zhyn have been on this base. And we’re here to witness it.”
Paige glanced at him sideways. “Actually, we’re here to welcome and entertain,” she corrected him.
“And we don’t know this is the first time,” Pieter added. “Remember, we were the first ones on this base in fifty-something years… but who knows what went on before that. This whole base could have been operated by Zhyn before then.”
Maya chuckled. “Unlikely. But we get the point,” she agreed.
Brock sighed. “Oh, small minds.” He patted the heads of the two girls. “History is unraveling before your very eyes and yet you jest about trivialities.
“And technicalities,” Pieter added.
“And actual facts,” Paige added with a grin.
Just then the hangar doors started opening, revealing the inky blackness of space behind them. The four waited, barely daring to breathe. They strained their eyes into the distant darkness, waiting for a glimpse of a ship that was going to escort them out into an area of space they had never thought of venturing yet, to meet what would likely be the most formidable opponent they had ever encountered.
A number of seconds passed before the darkness beyond was eclipsed by something huge and ship-like.
“It’s not going to fit!” Maya gasped.
“That’s what she said,” Brock started, sniggering to himself. The others couldn’t help but smile at the lame-ass joke.
Pieter pulled up his holo. “Oz wouldn’t be guiding them in if they weren’t going to fit,” he told her, as if Maya were being ridiculous in her concern.
A few moments later the ship seemed to line up with the hangar doors and slip effortlessly into the space inside. A few more minutes later it gently touched down in the central open space of the deck.
“It’s massive!” Maya gasped, her eyes wide and everyone else forgotten.
This time Paige sniggered at the obvious continuation joke which a quick glance to the others told her she didn’t need to bother vocalizing.
“We should head down,” Brock interrupted enthusiastically. Before the others knew what was happening Brock was already half-way down the first flight of stairs, boots thumping against the metal. Paige noticed the side door of the ship opening and a staircase unfurling. She was tempted to watch from her vantage point but didn’t want to miss the introductions. She hurried after the others, carefully picking her way in her high heels and cursing her affinity to fashion.
They arrived on the deck just in time to see four large Zhyn heading from the stairs of their ship to the group of their leaders: Joel, Jack, Sean and Molly who had taken a few steps forward and were about to shake hands.
Paige caught up with Maya, grabbing her arm. “They’re even bigger than Ben’or!” she gasped. “I can’t believe Molly is going to do that human custom! She’ll get her hand broken.”
“I know,” Maya agreed, wincing in anticipation. “I’m glad I’m not a diplomat or anything. All that touching and backslapping. Being a leader when there are guys like this around is a risky business.”
Paige narrowed her eyes at her. “You’re pulling my leg?”
Maya grinned and kept walking, stopping a few yards away, just next to where Brock and Pieter had felt it appropriate to stop.
* * *
Molly watched as the group of Zhyn dignitaries and representatives approached her welcome party. Now seeing the Admiral, she wished she had made more of an effort. Merely hoping that Paige would take care of details like the refreshments seemed like a massive oversight on her part.
She stepped forward and held out her hand, hoping that the human custom would be understood.
“Greetings Admiral,” she said, addressing the warrior with the most medals on the front of his robes.
“Awww hawwww, Molly Bates, I presume!” the Admiral guffawed as he approached. He took her hand and shook it enthusiastically. Molly felt her whole body being shaken up and down as he shook her hand and then clamped her firmly on her shoulder.
She recovered herself and managed to wriggle free. “Admiral, welcome to Gaitune-67. We are most honored to have you here… and deeply appreciative of your efforts in helping us.”
“Ah, speak nothing of it, Ms. Bates. We’re glad to be here. And after everything you’ve done for our empire over the years, it is an honor to be able to repay the debt.”
Molly felt the eyeballs of the team behind her, and when she turned she clocked Paige, Maya, Pieter, and Brock not a short distance away too.
“May I introduce you to my team, Admiral,” she offered, stepping out of the way. “This is Joel Dunham, Sean Royale, and Jack Nolan.”
She surreptitiously tried to rub her shoulder joint as they made their greetings. Interestingly no one else opted for stepping forward to shake his hand. Instead, they kept their arms firmly by their sides and bowed courteously.
Neat trick. Wish I’d thought of that before my shoulder was dislocated.
All in the days work for a leader.
Quite. But I bet these guys don’t know their own strength.
I rather suspect they’re used to handling people who have a similar resiliency to themselves.
I don’t disagree.
The Admiral, looking very pleased, turned back to Molly. “Thank you for your warm welcome. May I present some of my crew members. This is my second in command, Fleet Sergeant Kitcher.”
The Zhyn who was similarly dressed stepped forward to bow shortly to Molly. Having learned her lesson, she returned the bow. He made a similar gesture to the others and they introduced themselves again, helping one another to remember the new names.
Two Zhyn in flight suits stood back a few paces. Molly wasn’t familiar with their customs but they looked as though they were standing at attention, and were probably of a lower rank. She was about to offer an introduction to them when Admiral Clor’s gaze fell behind her, as if he were distracted. She turned to see Ben’or coming over to join them.
“Admiral Clor, you probably know The Right Honorable Ben’or—” Before she could get any further with the introduction Ben’or and Clor were embracing each other, slapping each other vigorously and enthusiastically on the backs.
“I guess you guys know each other?”
“That we do, Molly dear. That we do,” Ben’or chuckled. He released Clor and turned to Kitcher. “Good to see you too, Kitcher. It’s been too long.”
Kitcher embraced Ben’or with a similar enthusiasm, but Molly noticed a slight resistance in his eye. “Ben’or. Not long enough. I still haven’t forgotten how you tricked me on our final test.”
Ben’or chuckled loudly as he waved an arm to the other two Zhyn warriors in the party.
“Now, now,” Clor interjected. “Graduation was a long time ago now, Kitcher.”
“Yes, not good to carry grudges,” Ben’or added, tapping his nose and winking at what Molly deduced must have been an old rival back at some Zhyn training thing.
The decibel levels of the conversations had escalated since Ben’or arrived on the deck leaving the others mostly just spectators in proceedings now.
“How about we retire to one of the conference rooms where we can have some refreshments, and discuss our plans?” Molly suggested, gesturing in the direction of the base conference rooms and labs.
“Of course, thank you,” Admiral Clor replied. He and Ben’or led the way chatting between themselves. Kitcher held back a little, allowing the humans to go ahead of him, and then he and Molly brought up the rear. He turned back briefly to nod to the other two who hadn’t yet been introduced.
Each of the two saluted him and relaxed their postures as if they’d been dismissed.
Paige took the initiative, delicately stepping forward. “Greetings of the day to you,” she called to them, her voice raised as if talking to someone who might be deaf.
The pair glanced at each other, then grinned. “Greetings,” they responded, stepping forward to meet with Paige’s group.
“I’m Trev’or,” the first said, waving a hand casually.
“And I’m Ruther.”
Paige put a hand on her chest. “Paige,” she told them.
Maya waved nervously. “Maya.”
The pair nodded.
“Pieter,” Pieter said, waving and then knocking his hair out of his eyes awkwardly.
“Brock,” Brock added finally. He beamed at them. “So I guess you’re also not invited to the private party?” he joked, nodding in the direction where the leaders had disappeared.
“Ah, nah,” Trev’or replied. “Above our stripes,” he added tapping the stripes on the arm of his jumpsuit.
Brock sniggered. “Ours too.”
There was an awkward silence between the two groups as they each racked their brains for the next thing to say.
“So…” Paige ventured, “what do you guys do on the ship?”
Ruther shrugged. “Well, we’re basically technicians that follow those two around and execute their orders.”
Trev’or took over. “Means we could be flying their ship one minute…”
“Or communicating with the entire fleet the next,” Ruther added.
Paige smiled at the way they seemed to talk as a unit.
“Actually,” Ruther continued, “the boss thought it would be a good idea for us to come and meet with you. We’re going to be helping coordinate the operation, so he thought us knowing each other would be useful.”
Paige grinned, excited that though they operated worlds apart they still seemed to share a common thought process. “That was some good thinking!” she exclaimed.
“Plus,” Trev’or added, “we were kinda curious. We have never seen any Estarians before. You’re strangely more multicolored than we expected.”
Paige giggled and nudged Maya who was also amused. “Oh… We’re not all Estarian. I’m half human. Estarian coloring. Brock and Pieter are human…”
Brock waved, grinning. Pieter nodded awkwardly, flicking some unkempt hair out of his eyes.
“And you saw Molly and the others… They’re also human.”
“I’m Estarian though,” Maya chirped up. Then she looped an errant strand of dark hair behind her ear and did a turn on her toes.
The two Zhyn technicians looked at each other and applauded at her twirl.
“Forgive us,” Trev’or explained. “We don’t mean to be rude. We’re just fascinated. We appreciate you explaining the difference to us.”
Paige wafted her hand. “No problem at all. We were kinda curious about the Zhyn people too. I think it’s a great thing that we get to spend some time together.”
Ruther piped up. “Hey, so, in the interests of learning what we can about your culture… what do you think you can show us?”
“Well, we could start with the tour of the base,” Paige started.
Maya put a hand on her friend's’ forearm. “I have a better idea,” she offered in a slightly conspiratorial tone. “How about we show them something truly human?”
Paige frowned. “What do you propose?”
“Pizza,” Maya said simply.
They all laughed.
Except for the two Zhyn. “What is this pizza you speak of?” Ruther asked.
Brock grinned inching forward into the conversation a little more. “It’s a human specialty,” he explained with a wink.
Paige clapped her hands and led them toward the stairs to the safe house. “Good thinking, Maya. And while we eat, we can talk and tell you anything you want to know.”
“Food?” Ruther grinned. “Couldn’t have thought of anything better myself.” He rubbed his strong, over-sized hands together, clearly even more interested in the cultural exchange now.
The group moved across the hangar deck as a unit now. “Let’s head upstairs then,” Paige confirmed, “and I’ll put an order in.”
Maya and Paige led the way, the two Sarkian boys walking behind with their new comrades.
Base Conference Room, Gaitune-67
Mochas and teas were passed around, and several plates of hors-d'oeuvres were placed in front of the guests.
“Are you sure you don’t want to rest before we talk?” Molly asked again.
“No, no… we’re fine. We’ve just hopped down on the transporter.”
Molly frowned. “You mean that ship you’ve just arrived on.”
“Uh huh.”
“So that’s not your regular space-faring ship?”
“Oh no…” Clor chuckled, throwing Ben’or a knowing glance. “That’s like a little shuttle to get us from the flagship down to land here. Easier for dockings and landing on planets. Uses about one-millionth of the energy for takeoff… and landing.”
Ben’or watched the realization of the relative ship sizes dawn on Molly, as if LEDs had just been activated in dark areas of her brain.
Molly nodded deferentially.
Fleet Sergeant Kitcher and Joel had been talking. They seemed to have worked out an order of business between them whilst the teas were being passed around.
Kitcher cleared his throat. “Well. If we’re all ready…”
Molly motioned to give him the floor.
Kitcher acknowledged her with a bow of his head and then began. “Thank you again for your hospitality. Joel and I thought it might be useful to start with the resources we have available. So although we weren’t able to bring the entire fleet, we have managed to bring twenty ships.”
Sean nearly choked on his tea. “That’s a whole fleet to some people!” he looked up a moment. “Well, some… Perhaps not the Empire.”
Joel smirked, watching him recover himself. “Certainly in this sector,” he agreed, a little more composed.
Clor gruffed from behind a pastry which looked smaller than miniature in his large hand. “Well, our fleets normally ride out a hundred ship strong on normal missions. But of course, this is a special case and we couldn’t risk alerting other powers in the Federation.”
Molly nodded quietly. “Of course. And we’re grateful for any help.”
Joel and Sean sat quietly, wide-eyed at the sheer firepower at the beck and call of these two men. If Joel had to guess from Sean’s posture, he may have suspected that maybe Sean was even a little intimidated by their superior firepower.
Sean swallowed hard and found his voice. “So… just to be clear. The ship you landed was a… transporter. How much bigger are your actual ships?”
The two Zhyn exchanged a glance as if searching for a number. Clor shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe a hundred?”
“Oh.”
Sean sat back, his questions taken care of.
Jack leaned forward next, a perplexed look on her face. “Sorry… it’s probably not super relevant. But if your ships are a hundred times bigger… how do you ever land them?”
Kitcher glanced at his boss and seemed to volunteer to take this next question. “Generally, we don’t. We build them in a docking station, and when we decommission them we do the reverse. Dock them, and take them apart for parts. Most ships have never even been in an atmosphere.”
“Oh,” Jack managed, before she too sat back with no further questions.
Sean sat up again. “But your transporter had guns, and missiles! Big-ass missiles!”
Ben’or sat quietly the corner of his mouth now smirking.
Kitcher could see him out of his peripheral vision but managed to keep his own face straight. “This is true,” he conceded. “Though they are nothing compared to the actual battleships.”
Molly watched the team acclimatize to the new levels of firepower in their mix. Seeing that their burning questions had been answered she leaned forward. “So. Erm… our plan?”
“Yes,” the Admiral agreed, “what do you need us to do?”
Molly thought for a moment. “Well, mostly we need you there as a deterrent. A threat, so we don’t just rock up and get ourselves annihilated. But if things should go south, then we need to have a contingency plan, so we can escape. Our primary goal is to try to avoid a confrontation and as we explained in the mission documents, it’s highly unlikely that we would need to fire a single shot.”
The Admiral nodded. “But if we do?”
Sean sat forward again in his seat, his composure regained. He tapped his holo and brought up some slides in the holoscreen at the center of the table. “This is plan A,” he announced. The screen showed a formation of ships, and a sequence evolving over time.
Kitcher interrupted with a wave of his finger. “Of how many plans?”
“We have four contingencies. Let’s go through them one at a time and make sure you’re happy with all of them.” Sean dug into the details, thankful that although he hadn’t had any idea of the sheer size of the ships, at least he had been prepared for the numbers and how to arrange them.
Workshop, Safe House Basement, Gaitune-67
Several hours later Pieter sat in the workshop as Brock worked solidly on adapting their shields for an expanded frequency.
“I wish I’d know about this possibility sooner,” he grumbled, pausing only a moment to rub his fingers into his forehead before continuing to fiddle with the control box.
“I know,” Pieter agreed. “Giles only mentioned it as a possible gotcha the other day, and I didn’t realize that there was anything we could do about it until earlier.”
“I know. It’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. It’s just… all a little much, you know.” Brock sat back on his stool, allowing his eyes to focus on the far wall for a moment to rest his eyes from the detailed work.
“It’ll be fine,” Pieter reassured him. “We’ll all be fine.”
Just then Trev’or came down the steps. “Ah, there you both are.” He looked at Brock fiddling with the control box. “Still working?”
“Yeah,” Brock grunted. “Trying to expand the range of our shields in case these ARs have some kind of firepower that can penetrate our shields.”
Trev’or slumped down on a stool at the same workbench as Pieter and Brock. “Hey man, it really is going to be all ok. We’ve got your backs. Those ARs fire one shot anywhere near you and we’ll take them out.” His fist clenched automatically as he spoke the words.
Brock took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I appreciate that, Trev’or.” He smiled. “But I still need to make sure I do everything I possibly can to keep the team alive out there.”
“Of course.”
Bourne’s voice suddenly chirped up over the workshop intercom. “You know… I’m good for more than just hologames!”
Trev’or looked startled and looked around to see where the voice was coming from.
Pieter chuckled. “It’s ok. That’s just Bourne.”
“Bourne?”
“Yeah, one of our in-house AIs.”
“AIs? As in…”
“Artificial intelligence.”
“I prefer the term Advanced Entity,” Bourne interjected.
“He’s sentient,” Pieter added rolling his eyes as if to elicit sympathy from Trev’or.
Trev’or’s brow furrowed. “You have sentient AIs?”
Brock kept working as he spoke. “Yeah. It’s a thing. Sorry… we should have warned you.” He lifted his voice a little to reach the intercom. “Bourne, this is our new friend Trev’or. Trev’or, this is Bourne.”
“Nice to make your acquaintance,” Bourne said.
“Likewise.” Trev’or looked a little unnerved still. “So, this is for real?” he asked Pieter quietly.
Pieter nodded, grinning now. “Yeah. We liberated him from a military base a while ago. Now he just mostly watches movies from the archives and hangs out playing holo games with us. And Oz… the other AI.”
Trev’or took a deep breath. “Wow, this is… incredible.”
“You mean, you don’t have AIs in the Zhyn Empire?” Pieter looked confused. “I thought you guys were technological badasses?”
Trev’or’s eye widened. “Heck no. I couldn’t think of anything more terrifying. One of us would certainly destroy the other.” He shrugged. “I guess it’s kinda like your Estarians in the face of meeting a new tribe.”
“Why do you say that?” Brock asked.
Trev’or shrugged. “Well, we’ve never seen AIs before. Our tech is good, and we have self-learning intelligent programs. But nothing alive. And I think most of our warriors would agree that another life form that has more capability than us would be a threat. And so they’d have to snuff it out. So I guess no one’s bothered to think about inventing a fully sentient entity, simply because… well, what’s the point?”
Pieter watched his new friend, fascinated. “That is truly incredible.”
“I guess,” Trev’or agreed. “But from our perspective it’s just never been a goal we’ve sought. We figure that we’re smart enough and complicated enough, without compounding our problems.”
Brock suddenly sat back, a relieved look on his face. “Done!” he announced, pushing the box away from him and further onto the bench.
“Great!” Bourne pipped up again. “Game time!”
The holoscreen over by the old couch came to life, game music starting up in the background.
Pieter sniggered. “Come on, let us show you the advantages of having a friendly AI hanging about the base.” He led Trev’or over to the gaming area and handed him a gamepad.
“I’ll be back in ten minutes,” Brock announced, heading out toward the daemon door. “Just have to fit this box…”
His words fell on deaf ears. Pieter and Trev’or were already immersed in the new world Bourne was creating for them as the game powered-up.
Chapter 10
On Board Glock’stor Ship #597
As Supervisor Gultorra made his way toward the mess hall, he glanced out a bulkhead window. He fancied, for a moment, that he could see Gaitune-67 in the distance. As close as the ship was to it, though, he knew they weren’t that close.
Perhaps one of the twenty Zhyn ships might have been, but not his. He spared the bit of whimsy only a moment of thought before he pulled his attention away from the bulkhead window and continued on his way.
The dome of the mess hall was abuzz with conversation. Every so often someone shouted from the main table up to one of the walkways above. It was lively and almost bombastic, and that, combined with the lingering smell of roasted zarther-beast, it was a bit like home.
“Supervisor on deck!” someone announced from down the table. As one, all eyes turned to Gultorra and everyone at the table saluted in nearly clockwork unison before turning back to their meals and their conversations.
Gultorra plucked his hat off of his head and took a seat at the head of the table, Kalvor to his left and Tulnok to his right. Kalvor passed the zarther-beast platter and Gultorra plucked the bone from it. It had nearly been carved clean, but enough meat still lingered to be satisfying, and the bone was the best part, regardless.
As Kalvor set the platter down and shoved it back along the table. Tulnok turned his expectant gaze on Gultorra.
Gultorra paused with the bone raised halfway to his mouth before he sighed and set it back on the plate, the tips of his fingers instead drumming on the table. “Tulnok.”
“Boss.”
“Have you picked up the habit of thinking before you start speaking? I’m impressed.”
Tulnok snorted and rolled his eyes. “Not quite,” he returned wryly. “Just wondering, Boss, but what’s up with this muttering I keep hearing about us being mercenaries now?”
Gultorra’s eyes narrowed, just enough to take him out of the running of ever winning a poker match. “Who said anything about that?”
Tulnok waved it off with an unconcerned flick of his claws. “You know how it goes. Just some scuttlebutt.”
“Uh huh,” Gultorra hummed dubiously. “Well, it’s not something I’m supposed to talk about.”
Suddenly much more interested, Tulnok leaned closer on his elbows. “You don’t say.” While he didn’t actually say ‘I’m all ears,’ the implication was there.
At last, Kalvor offered his own two cents. “Yeah, I heard about this whole ‘mercenary’ thing, too,” he chimed in, lifting both hands to make air quotes with his fingers as he said the word ‘mercenary.’
Gultorra shook his head in comic exasperation. “Put your hands down when you say that. You look like a cheerleader!”
Kalvor’s hands dropped back to the table so quickly they nearly broke the sound barrier. As Kalvor scowled, Tulnok’s eyebrows rose slowly and he wondered, “Why is he doing that?”
Gultorra simply arched one questioning eyebrow and finally started eating, teeth ripping at what little was left on the bone.
“The air quotes thing?” Kalvor supplied. He lifted his hands to do it again, just to see Gultorra glower at him.
“Yeah, that.” Tulnok nodded once. “When you say mercenary.”
Gultorra groaned and dropped the bone back down to his plate. “If I refuse to answer, are you going to drop it?”
“Probably not,” Tulnok answered pleasantly. He grinned, showing his dinosaur-like teeth.
Gultorra dug at the corners of his eyes with two of his knuckles. “Of course,” he moaned. “Just remember, I didn’t tell you any of this.” He punctuated his words with a lingering look at Tulnok, who looked only marginally offended about being singled out.
“We aren’t supposed to be here,” Gultorra admitted without any more evasion. “Not in an official, Empire-related capacity, at any rate. But Lord Ben’or, dipping into his infinite wisdom, found a loophole that means we’re not breaking the Federation treaty.”
Tulnok’s eyebrows rose once again. “By letting people hire us out for money?”
“You didn’t hear it from me,” Gultorra offered by way of confirmation. Tulnok seemed distracted with his own thoughts after that, so Gultorra didn’t bother waiting for a reply. Instead, he picked up the bone from his plate and resumed gnawing at it, until it was nearly clean and it cracked beneath his teeth.
“So,” Tulnok mused slowly, slightly disconcerted, “we’ve been bought. We’re being pimped out for cash. Like common whores!”
Gultorra didn’t offer any sort of confirmation, instead taking a moment to appreciate the look of dawning horror on Tulnok’s face…at least until it was very quickly replaced with elation.
“Cool!” Tulnok grinned broadly and turned halfway around in his seat to look at the next table over. “Hey! Hey, Georg’oh! We’re mercs now!”
Georg’oh offered a distracted thumbs-up in reply. Whether or not he put any stock in the words coming out of Tulnok’s mouth was up for some debate.
When Tulnok turned back around, it was with a slightly worrisome grin on his face. Gultorra felt a knot of dread rising in his chest.
“Sooo,” Tulnok began casually.
“Don’t you dare,” Gultorra practically growled. He already knew where the conversation was going to go next.
Unperturbed, Tulnok asked, “Since you’re in charge, does that make you our pimp?”
Gultorra heaved a beleaguered sigh. “It means you have four seconds to get out of my face before I shove my mercenary boot so far up your ass you’re tasting shoe polish.”
“Right, yeah.” Tulnok got to his feet, grabbing his empty plate and Gultorra’s as he did. “No one will know you told me, boss. Sounds like fun!” Notably, he didn’t say that he wasn’t going to mention it at all.
He got distracted just a few steps away, leaning against the next table over to talk to another friend.
“Aren’t you glad I’m normal?” Kalvor asked, grinning as he watched Tulnok depart.
“Someone needs to balance you out,” Gultorra replied dryly. “I like to think of you as a matched set.”
Base conference Room, Gaitune-67
Molly glanced around the table of wide-eye attentive team members. Admiral Clor and Fleet Sergeant Kitcher sat quietly, with Ben’or on one side of them, taking it all in.
Molly turned to Crash. “Ok, how are the ships looking?”
Crash sat up a little straighter as he responded. “The Empress is ready to go and we’ve loaded up four pods as you asked.”
Paige frowned. “Why just four?”
Crash looked awkward for a moment and glanced at Molly. Molly signaled to him that she’d take the question. “Just in case. You might need them back here in the future if… anything were to happen out there.”
Paige’s eyes seemed to flicker with a horror that she quickly tried to suppress. She felt Maya look at her, probably with the same reaction, but she held her finger up discreetly from her hand on the table and Maya dropped her gaze to the table. She realized it wasn’t the time to discuss the implications of Molly’s comment.
Molly’s eye caught that of the Admiral at the other end of the table before she quickly continued with her briefing. “And the Little Empress?” she asked Crash.
“Also on board and ready to rock,” he said simply.
Molly turned to Sean. “And how are we looking in terms of weapons?”
“We’ve loaded up everything that we think is necessary and useful. Obviously, we want to keep the weight down as much as possible. And space is an issue what with the additional ships… but we’ve got more than enough for any of the four scenarios.”
“Good. Ok. Joel?”
Joel stood up to take the lead on the team details. “Pieter, we’ll need you to be monitoring all signals on all frequencies during the approach. We’ve no idea how the ships are going to be able to communicate with us.”
Pieter nodded. “I’ve already adapted a couple of the receivers to pick up a broader spectrum than normal and hooked them up to my holo.”
“Good,” Joel confirmed. He turned to Arlene and Giles. “If you two are ok to join us, we’d appreciate any assistance in recognizing patterns or languages.”
Arlene nodded obediently. Giles raised his hand though. “Yes, of course. We can bring The Scamp Princess along, in case you need us for evasive maneuvers or to create a distrac—.”
“Actually,” Joel interrupted him, “we’d need you on board The Empress with us, to interpret anything Pieter picks up.”
Giles sat back, folding his arms, clearly disappointed to not be riding into battle on his own steed. “Very well,” he agreed reluctantly.
“Jack, you’re in charge of weapons from the cockpit. If we need to arm up personally, you’ll also oversee that. You know the protocols.”
She nodded. “Yes.”
Molly frowned. “You’ve briefed her on the strategies, and not shooting to kill unless we have the code word.”
Jack smirked. “Yes. I know the code word.”
Brock became suddenly animated flicking his eyes from Joel to Molly to Jack. “What code word?”
Pieter grinned. “Need to know, Mate,” he said, touching his nose.
Brock glanced at Crash. “Why are we being left out?”
Crash shrugged. “Speak for yourself…”
Brock started to protest. “Hang on—”
Molly held up a hand. “It’s ok Brock. It’s just a security measure to make sure there are no misunderstandings on opening fire. This is an incredibly delicate situation we’re walking into. That’s all.”
Joel continued, nodding to their new allies who had been sitting quietly. “Admiral Clor and Fleet Sergeant Kitcher also know the code word and will use deadly force only if that code word is uttered.”
“Maya and Paige,” he said next, turning to them. “We need you to stay put here and hold the fort.”
Arlene leaned forward. Joel clocked it and acknowledged her. “And yes, we should have Anne brought up from the surface to stay with Paige and Maya while you, Giles and Ben’or are on the mission with us.”
Arlene nodded.
“Which brings us onto our friend Ben’or,” Joel continued. Ben’or held Joel’s gaze steadily. Joel smiled. “Who would you like to ride with? Us or the Admiral?”
The Admiral waved his hand in offering to Ben’or as if he didn’t mind which ship he chose.
Ben’or paused for a moment, then without much consideration allowed his eyes to rest on Arlene. “My place is by Arlene’s side,” he said simply.
Joel noticed Arlene’s eyes get a little watery as he moved the meeting on. There were a few minor details to iron out and then the meeting wrapped up promptly.
“Ok folks, we leave in twelve hours. Let’s make sure we all get some good rest tonight. We’ll meet at the ships at 0800.”
The team got up and scattered, leaving Molly and Joel with Clor and Kitcher.
“I’m sure you have preparations to make, Ms. Bates,” the Admiral said congenially. “Kitcher and I will head back to our ships and we’ll look forward to accompanying you into battle in the morning.”
“Of course. And thank you again for doing this,” Molly responded. She started to move forward to shake hands with the pair, then remembering her damaged shoulder and bruised hand, stopped suddenly and bowed. Joel did the same before they accompanied their new friends out of the conference room and back to their transport ship where Trev’or and Ruther were already waiting with a stack of pizza boxes each.
The Admiral glanced at their strange packages.
“Gifts,” Ruther explained simply. “From our new friends.”
The Admiral raised one eyebrow.
“They’re food. That’s all,” Trev’or explained a little further.
The Admiral sniffed at one stack, cocked his head approvingly and then beckoned for the two warrior-technicians to follow him on board.
“Until tomorrow, Molly Bates,” he called over his shoulder as he climbed the ramp to their transporter ship.
Molly smiled as she waved. “You know,” she told Joel, “I do believe Paige has just single-handedly established pizza as a new upcoming food in the Zhyn Empire.”
Joel chuckled. “And to think, Giles missed this cultural transfer phenomenon completely.”
She sighed. “Yes. I suspect his mind has been on other things recently.” The pair waved as the transporter ramp retracted with the Zhyn crew on board and seconds later they were lifting into the air with a roar of their engines.
Molly and Joel ambled back across the hangar deck toward the steps for the safe house. “I’m sure it will all go well,” he said reassuringly. “No one has anything to worry about…”
“I hope you’re right,” she replied, her voice clearly trying to mask the degree of anxiety she was actually experiencing.
“Of course, you know what the big question is in all of this,” he added.
“No?”
“Whether those pizzas Paige sent the guys home with are meat or vegetarian…”
Molly sniggered despite the intensity of the situation that loomed ahead of them.
Chapter 11
Bailey Residence, Estaria
Arlene and Ben’or wandered into Arlene’s apartment.
“That was a much longer day than I was expecting,” Arlene admitted peeling her atmojacket off and sitting down on the sofa to untie her boots.
Ben’or stood, exhausted, in the middle of the living room, thinking for a moment. He glanced around. “Anne?” he called.
No answer.
He headed further into the open plan arrangement, looking around. “Anne?” He called again.
“She’s probably got her music on,” Arlene offered wearily.
Ben’or disappeared into the bedroom corridor, calling for Anne.
Arlene slumped back on the sofa. “How about I open a bottle of something?” she called through to him.
Ben’or came back through, his boots tapping heavily on the wooden floor. “Anne’s not here,” he reported, the concern weighing heavily in his voice.
Arlene hauled herself back into an upright position. “You’re fucking kidding me!” She rolled her eyes in frustration. “That girl… She’ll be the death of me.”
Ben’or frowned. “You don’t seem that worried.”
“Oh, she’s done this before. Turned up on the ship, no less. Only found her when it was too late to take her back.” Arlene stood up with her hands now on her hips. She took a breath, her voice lower now. “You know,” she said slowly, “I wouldn’t put it past her to pull the same stunt again.”
She pulled up her wrist holo and started typing.
Ben’or watched. “What are you doing?”
“Calling the base.”
The call connected. “Hey, Paige. Bad news. Anne has gone missing. Yes, again. I think she may be trying to get on board one of the ships so that she can come with us…”
There was a pause as Arlene listened to the other side of the call.
“Yeah. That’s a good idea. Tell me… did Brock end up finding a way to stop her from melting herself out of the camera images?”
Ben’or’s eyes widened as he watched Arlene. He caught her eye. She shook her head at him as she listened.
Then she sighed. “Ok. We’ll give it half an hour before we come back up. Goodness knows how she could have pulled this one off. Although… wanna put a tracker on the other pod we had down here? Yeah, I’ll wait.”
Arlene wiped her hand over her graying skin. Her eyes showed how exhausted she was feeling now. “They’re tracking the other pod. The one we’d left down here. Won’t take a second.”
Ben’or nodded, perching on a nearby chair at the dining table, an expression of deep concern in his eyes.
“Yes, yes, I’m here,” Arlene pipped up again. “Oh, well that kinda narrows it down. Yes, ok. We’ll stay here for the time being then. Keep me posted? Thanks, Paige.”
She disconnected the call and closed the holoscreen, before slumping back down onto the sofa and covering her eyes with her hands.
“What’s happened?” Ben’or asked gently.
Arlene took a deep breath. “By the sounds of it, it’s most likely that she’s headed up to the base. That pod is back on Emma’s holodeck, so we can guess she’s back there. Probably.”
“Probably?”
“Well, it turns out the Zhyn transporter also went back out to rejoin the fleet. So it’s possible she hitched a ride on that.”
Ben’or chuckled. “Well, she is quite the adventurer.”
“You have no idea.”
Ben’or smiled. “So, what’s the plan?”
Arlene sank back into the sofa she had perched on. “Paige suggested we hang here for now and try and get some rest. She’ll see if she’s on the base or any of the ships, and if they don’t locate her they’ll let us know and we can head on up to help. But she was keen that we take advantage of the downtime we have before we have to go.”
Ben’or grinned. “Is she now? Well, in that case…” He wandered over to the wine rack and pulled off a bottle. “I think it would be irresponsible to ignore her suggestion.”
Arlene shook her head smiling. “You’re right. I’m sure Anne is fine. I’ll get some glasses,” she added getting up with a seemingly renewed energy now.
Safehouse, Gaitune-67
Giles was on his way out of the kitchen, mocha in hand, when he felt his wrist buzzing. Careful not to spill his mocha he glanced down and saw it was a group message from Oz.
ALL PERSONNEL BE ALERT. ANNE MISSING AND ASSUMED ON BASE.
…
…
…
YES. AGAIN.
Giles exhaled strongly, shifted the antigrav mug into his other hand, and then scrolled down the rest of the message to read the details of what they knew. Then he hit to connect a voice call with Oz.
“Hey, Oz.”
“What’s up G-man?” Oz replied through Giles’s audio implant.
“Anne, by the sounds of it. Is anyone checking the ships?” he asked, recalling the last time she had disappeared, and thoroughly embarrassed him by stowing away on The Scamp Princess.
“Yes. Crash and Brock are down there already. They’re going to check The Empress just as soon as they’ve finished what they’re working on.”
Giles nodded grimly. “Ok. I’ll head down there and give them a hand.”
“Ok thanks, Giles. I’ll let them know.”
“Sure. Anything I can do to help.” He turned around with his freshly brewed mocha and headed back into the kitchen. No point in trying to carry it around with him. He’d have to warm it up later.
He placed the mug down next to the machine, and reluctantly turned and headed out again. Crossing the open plan common area through to the foyer he stopped suddenly and listened.
There was a faint muffled whimpering sound, like someone trying not to be heard.
His brow furrowed as he listened more closely.
“Neechie?” he called gently.
Nothing.
Then a sniff.
“Hello?” he called, spinning around 360 degrees to try and figure out where the sound was coming from.
There were a shuffle and a thunk. He glanced all around him trying to figure out where the movement was coming from.
“Anne? Is that you?” he called.
No answer. And then another faint thunk. He looked up. There was an air duct.
“Anne?” he called again. “Are you in the air duct?”
He waited, straining his ears. “Maybe,” a little voice replied.
Giles stood up straight and stopped craning his neck. “Anne. Are you ok?”
No answer. Then another sniff.
“You’re crying?”
“Maybe,” the muffled voice replied again.
Giles’s tone shifted. “Anne. For goodness sake. You’ve got the whole team looking for you.” He tapped on his holo to alert Oz, then he softened his voice. “How did you get in there anyway?”
“Through the vent behind the common room.”
Giles lifted his voice to the duct above him. “How about you come back down and we can talk?”
There was no answer, but he could hear a shuffling just a little further down the duct like she had begun moving.
He hit his holo. “Oz?”
“Yep.”
“I’ve found Anne. She’s with me. You can call off the search.”
“Ok. Good. Thank goodness for that. Arlene and Ben’or were about to mount a search too. I’ll let everyone know.”
“Thanks, Oz.”
The shuffling and thunking had become louder and moved along the duct into the open plan common area. Now the noise was sliding down the far wall, beyond the holoscreen and back sofa. Giles watched in anticipation before realizing that she was going to emerge from the vent somewhere on the other side. He rounded the common area to watch the dead space between there and the foyer. Sure enough, a few moments later a rather grubby and dusty-looking Estarian adolescent emerged from the vent. She dusted off her head and face, dropping big globs of dirt on the floor, then turned and bent down in front of the vent and replaced the cover she had kicked out of the way.
Giles stayed where he was so as not to crowd her. “So…” he said, by way of opening. “What’s going on?”
She turned around and her face was all smeared with dirt and tears.
She had tried to stop herself from crying as she crawled out, but now, another tear escaped from her left eye. “It’s all my fault. Arlene said this would happen. That I was a transmitter for something dangerous.”
Giles was by her side in an instant, wrapping his arms around her now. She didn’t try and stop him. In fact, for a change she moved in and leaned into the hug. “I’m sorry. I tried not to be bad. I didn’t want any of this to happen. I’m…”
“Hey. Hey. It’s not your fault. Not at all. Even if you were the antenna, you were only doing what we asked you to. And there is nothing bad about you. Your powers, your skills are incredible. They represent the next stage of Estarian evolution. You’re a shining example.”
“That just happens to get us all killed,” she retorted. Her eyes were all screwed up and dirt streaked down her face.
“That would only be the case if those aliens are out to kill us… But I very much doubt they are. If my theories are correct these were the people who put us on these various planets. If anything, we think they’re looking forward to meeting us. Think about it…”
He peeled her off him so he could look at her. “If they were intent on killing us they could have done that already. They could have completely wiped us out at any point in history. Instead, they planted clues for us to go out and find them. They gave us the tools and information only when we had people with specific skills and abilities. Like you. Like Molly. Like Bethany Anne.
Anne’s crying had stopped, and now she was merely sniffing.
“Come on,” Giles said, standing up. “Let’s get you a tissue from the kitchen.” He took her hand and led her back through to the safe house kitchen.
“Remember,” he told her as they walked. “We went out looking for the talismans and put the puzzle together. We all made the decision to pursue this: Molly. Bethany Anne. Everyone was on board. You were just one small piece of the puzzle. And you did great.”
“But why?” Anne protested. “Why are they coming?”
Giles shrugged. “I’m not sure. To see what we’ve become probably. To help if they can. To let us in on their secrets… maybe.”
“So they’re definitely not coming to kill us?”
“I very much doubt it.”
Giles sat her down at the table in the kitchen and handed her some damp kitchen roll. He found a clean mug and started making her a hot drink from the machine, then he disappeared into the pantry for a moment. He returned with a big cheesy grin. “Marshmallows?”
Anne grinned and nodded silently.
Giles finished making the hot chocolate in silence, piled it up with marshmallows and dumped it in front of her.
“Now,” he said, gently but seriously, “a bunch of us are going off to check out this new fleet. Say hello and all. But I need you to stay here and look after Paige and Maya. They have a tendency to worry. And to drink too much. I need you here to stop them from doing that, and to reassure them when they get all… well, you know. You think you can do that for me?”
Anne thought for a moment. She didn’t have the energy to protest about being left behind. “Can I drink with them then?”
“Hell no. Unless you’re drinking water or tea.”
“That’s not fair!” she protested, her teenage will and spunk slowly returning.
“I know. Life is incredibly unfair. But the last thing they need is you drinking and not being able to control your powers. Eh?”
“Yeah. Ok. But when you and Arlene get back can I have a drink?”
Giles grinned and patted her shoulder. “When all this is over I’ll take you drinking myself,” he said, picking up his own mocha. “Well,” he added, tilting his head, “maybe we’ll start you off with a beer in a confined space where you can’t set anything on fire. Or surge the electricity. Or break anything.”
Anne sighed, and rolled her eyes, already looking more like her old self as she sipped her liquefied marshmallow drink with hot chocolate in it.
Giles stood watching her carefully, a new thought formulating in his mind.
Molly’s Conference Room, Safe House, Gaitune-67
Giles wandered back down the corridor from escorting Anne back to her room so she could get cleaned up and rest.
Something had been nagging at him about Anne. He wasn’t sure. It was still a theory… but if it was correct the implications could be dire.
He strode down the corridor, his boots squeaking against the polished floor. He thought briefly about how loudly they announced his arrival. But most of the crew were out on the base, making things ready for their departure the next morning. But then he noticed a light on in the conference room. Molly’s conference room.
And the door was slightly ajar.
He was about to walk past it when he hesitated. Then stopped dead.
Molly turned around from her normal seat, where she would have her back to the door to avoid distractions.
He should say something, he thought to himself. He should share his concerns before it was too late.
She smiled. She looked tired, like she had been working solidly. He moved toward the door. “Hey. You got a minute?” he asked gently.
“Sure,” she beamed. “Come on in.” She had been sitting on one leg, studying the data on several different holoscreens. Now with a visitor, she dropped her leg down and relaxed back in her chair as if welcoming the break.
Giles wandered around to the corner of the table and sat down, placing one arm on the table edge. “I’m… not sure how to tell you this Molly. But, I didn’t want to wait until it was too late.”
He searched her face for a reaction. Nothing. She was just listening patiently, from all he could tell.
“It’s Anne.” He paused. “I just found her hiding in a ventilation duct because she was worried it was her fault that The Ascension Race was coming this way.”
Molly frowned ever so slightly. “Well, it’s not her fault. But she was a part of it.”
Giles nodded and waved his hand, trying to get to the point. “Yes. I’ve tried to console her, and she’s ok for now. But while we were talking something occurred to me. How do the ARs know where to find us?”
Molly thought for a moment. And then smirked, with genuine humor.
Giles sat up, bewildered by her reaction. “What?”
“ARs? You’re going with that?”
“Well, in the absence of a better idea. You have something better?”
Molly tried to put her face straight, and not mock him. “No. No. We’ll go with ARs until something better comes up.”
Giles took a deep breath. “Anyway, my point… They seem to know where we are. But how?”
“Well, we’re assuming they remember where they dropped the samples that created the Estarians.”
“Well, then we’d expect for them to have folks showing up at all the sites where they made DNA drops. Like Earth. Like Zhyn…”
Molly frowned more deeply now. She shook her head. “No. We would have heard about it by now.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But it begs the question; if they’re locked onto us… how are they finding us?”
“Well, we’re all together, apart from…”
“Bethany Anne and Michael. Yes. But we have no way of knowing where they are or what they’re facing.”
“True. Though if the ARs are able to track through the etheric I’m sure they’ll have a lock on them.”
Giles clicked his fingers. “Yes. If they’re tracking through the ether. However… Remember what Arlene said about the antenna…”
Molly’s mouth dropped open. She covered it with her hand. “You think they’re tracking Anne?”
Giles sighed, slowly, bobbing his head gently. “That was what had crossed my mind.”
Molly sat gazing at the table for a few moments.
“I don’t think she’s in danger,” Giles added. “If anything, I think she’s just the homing beacon to get them into the vicinity of the rest of us. They must understand that we’re a social species and will keep our own close by. And if we’re solving the puzzles and everything that was required of us in order to do that, they must be able to make certain assumptions about our desires to protect each other.”
Molly closed her eyes and shook her head. “I was so fixated on all the other moving parts… the trouble on Estaria, having to speak to these aliens… I completely missed it.”
Giles grinned his cockiest grin. “And that’s why you keep the A-team close!” He winked at her playfully.
She snorted lightly, amused. “It’s a good thing modesty doesn’t suit you, anyway.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind. Ok, so if this is the case, we want Anne with us on that ship tomorrow. Not out here, telegraphing the location of the population.”
Giles took his glasses off and started cleaning them. “You don’t think as a precaution we should send her away? Like to another system? Or dead space or something?”
Molly frowned. “Why would we do that? Like you said, these guys aren’t looking to harm anyone, right? I just think our best bet is to have her with us… in case we need her to get their attention or communicate or something.”
“But just in case?”
“Are you doubting your theory now? Now that it comes down to Anne’s safety?”
“No, no… Not at all—”
“Besides, we’ve nothing else with gate technology so even if we did scoot her out of here we can’t get her far enough away.”
“Except we do have The Scamp Princess,” Giles added quietly.
“With a newly evolved AI, who needs more monitoring and is by no means battle-ready at this point.” Molly eyed him carefully. “Plus, if the AR’s technology is anything like what we have already seen, they will have already seen the signs of the civilizations.”
Giles bobbed his head and replaced his glasses. “Yeah. Right. I guess that’s a fair deduction. Besides, I’m sure Anne will be happier about not being left behind.”
There was a quiet in the room for a moment as the two brainiacs considered their options.
“You know… it’s still entirely possible they’re tracking yourself, Arlene and indeed Bethany Anne,” Giles reminded her.
Molly took her finger from her lips. “You’re right. I’ll warn the General. Have him get a message out… just in case.”
The pair talked some more, and decided to just have Anne come along without having to let the others know about the thoughts they’d been having about her role in it all. “After all,” Molly concluded, “it’s not as if we’ve any new evidence. This is all just conjecture at this point.”
“True. I’ll let Anne know she can come with us in the morning,” Giles agreed quietly.
Sean stood quietly outside the door, pressed against the wall, listening to every word. He’d been coming back from the kitchen in his socks and had seen Giles disappear in to talk with Molly.
As he heard the meeting come to an end he crept back toward the double doors and came through them noisily, glass of milk in hand.
He waved as he wandered past, drawing a nod from Giles before he disappeared out of view down the corridor.
Chapter 12
Senate House, Spire, Estaria
“Were we not in agreement that this was to be a joint decision?” Bulin asked pointedly, eyeing the Estarian senate warily from the Oggs’ side of the table. “While we understand the inclination to get jumpy when presented with an external threat like this, the fact of the matter remains that we agreed to act as one.” His tone was getting harder as he spoke. he paused, took a breath, and slowly let it out. “The agreement was not for the Estarians to decide to launch the fleet at the slightest provocation.”
The Estarian Speaker lifted his hands in a placating gesture, and Bulin fell quiet reluctantly.
“Our approach is…unconventional,” the Speaker acknowledged silkily, folding his hands on the table. “But we don’t have time to debate this when there could be an invasion force on the outskirts of our system.”
“There could be,” Bulin stressed. “But we don’t know. We know there are ships, but not why. If you go flying off half-cocked, you could inadvertently be declaring war and giving us an enemy we know nothing about.”
Ekks watched them go back and forth and drummed his fingers on his knees.
“What would you suggest?” the Speaker asked, considerably less silken. “We can scarcely control our people at this point. They’re all getting antsy, and a lack of action on our part isn’t helping matters at all. If we don’t do something, we’re going to be facing riots in the street.”
“Perhaps you shouldn’t have gone out of your way to inundate them with the news,” Bulin suggested, deceptively pleasant. “They’ve been surrounded by the news like a swarm of flies, and they’ve had nothing else to think about. Of course they’re getting jumpy.”
“Spelling it out doesn’t actually do anything to remedy the matter,” the Speaker reminded him flatly.
“No,” Bulin agreed. “But it does make it clear that it was your fault and your mistake.” He paused and sighed, head hanging for a second as he rubbed his forehead. “I’m saying this as your ally,” he continued once he straightened up again.
Ekks’s hands curled into impatient fists against his thighs.
“Making another mistake isn’t going to fix the first one,” Bulin continued. “You’re acting rashly and trying to break an agreement that both of our worlds agreed on for good reason. I don’t think you’ve thought through the consequences of this, and frankly—“
The room fell silent as Ekks got to his feet, slamming his hands down on the table. The sound reverberated through the room like thunder. Slowly, all eyes turned to him.
“This is a military threat,” he stated, his voice low and terse. “It is a military decision. As such, we will be doing what we need to do to succeed, regardless of how much you would all like to dither and clutch your pearls.”
He pushed himself away from the table then turned, and left the room, his steps hurried and purposeful. The door hissed closed quietly behind him, but it could have been as loud as a gunshot in the silence of the boardroom.
Aboard The Empress, Base Hangar Deck, Gaitune-67
Molly watched as Arlene and Ben’or escorted Anne onto the ship. It looked like Anne was over anything that was bothering her the previous evening as she chattered away as Ben’or listened patiently.
Giles had already boarded three times. Each time he had forgotten something, like a talisman, or a star map… and then something personal that he didn’t explain in passing.
Now Molly stood talking to Paige and Maya as she watched the last checks being made.
“You’re sure you’re going to be ok?” she asked Paige.
“Of course,” Paige told her, almost as if she were trying too hard to allay any concerns Molly might have. “We’ve run point from here a million times. We know what we’re doing.”
Molly sighed and looked her friend in the eyes. “Look, we’re probably going to be back pretty soon…. And there’s probably nothing to worry about, but I don’t think I say this enough, and… I just want you to know…” She looked down at her feet. Despite all the progress she had been making with the emotional touchy-feely stuff, it still looked like she was struggling.
Paige held her hands. “Hey, Molly, it’s ok.”
When Molly looked up her eyes were watery and filled with concern. “But just in case… I need you to know… you’ve been the best friend a girl could hope for… And what with all your other things, and what you’ve done for this team… You’re an inspiration.”
Paige teared up too. “Oh, Molly. Stop. Everything is going to be fine. You’re going to come back soon and we’ll beat whatever the bad stuff is that’s going down and then we’ll kick back with pizzas and margaritas, just as we always do.”
Molly nodded, her eyes down at their clasped hands. She squeezed them tight then hugged Paige. Then Maya. Without another word or any eye contact, she hurried off down the side of the ship to get on board too.
Paige and Maya stood watching, their arms around each other. “It will be fine,” Maya said quietly. “This is just routine.”
Paige gave her a sideways glance, her humor returning through the anxiety. “Now you’ve gone and jinxed it!” she teased.
The girls giggled and pulled each other back away from the ship that was about to take off.
Onboard there was a flurry of activity as the team stowed away the last of their baggage and took their seats. Brock and Pieter were in the cockpit along with Crash. Pieter was manning numerous holoscreens as well as a bunch of functions that he’d routed through one of the main control consoles from the back of the cockpit. Brock sat in his usual seat as copilot, mostly there just to back up Crash and Emma who tended to have everything under control.
Crash finished his pre-flight checks and with a quick look to Brock who returned his glance with a nod, flicked the open channel to the comms for the ship.
“Ladies and gentlefolk. Welcome to Zhyn Airways. This is your captain speaking. We will be leaving in just a few moments now. As you will see as we exit the hangar today’s flight is being accompanied by our brothers-in-arms, a certain set of quote, unquote, ‘mercenaries,’ who may or may not be on loan from the Zhyn Empire… depending on who you talk to and whether they’re a part of the Federation or not.”
He paused, and there were mutterings and chuckled through the lounge area.
“We will be cruising at an altitude of a zillion feet, at a land speed of Light times three… or thereabouts. We will refrain from gating on this occasion on account of not wanting to leave our escorts behind, but if the need arises we will still have that capability intact.”
The ship was already midair about to pass through the opening hangar doors. “Please keep your hands and arms inside the carpet… aaaaaaaand, we’re out of here.”
The ship whooshed through the hangar doors, slap bang into the middle of the waiting Zhyn fleet outside.
All of a sudden, the forward motion was arrested.
“Hang on,” Crash muttered over the audio. It switched off, leaving the lounge in a strange silence.
Molly looked out of her window. Joel had moved and sat next to her. He peered out too. “You think he’s got this?” he asked.
Molly chuckled lightly. “I hope so. It’s not a complicated plan to fly in formation from here to the outer system.”
Joel smiled. “Yeah. I might go and make sure everything’s ok.”
Joel shuffled out of his seat and headed up to the cockpit.
“Everything all right in here?” he asked arriving to hear Crash talking over the external comms.
Brock swiveled round in his chair. “Yeah. It’s fine. They’re playing at being Canadian,” he joked, rolling his eyes.
Joel frowned. “Come again?”
Pieter joined the conversation. “It’s an old human expression from Earth,” he explained. “Basically, Crash was going to allow the Admiral to go first, and the Admiral’s people - Trev’or and Ruther said, no please, after you, friend. They’ve been back and forth on it a few times,” he added quietly as if confiding in Joel.
Joel scratched his nose disguising that he tried to wipe his face in despair. “And what did we decide?” he asked, a hint of sarcasm creeping into his voice.
Brock interjected. “Hey, this is an important piece of protocol. How we treat our allies is a reflection of who we are. We don’t want to offend the Admiral… and I for one am extremely grateful that the Zhyn are here backing us up after no one else was going to!”
Joel sighed and glanced at Pieter for a real answer.
Pieter rolled his lips before answering. “They’re going together. Side by side. We’re just waiting for the Admiral’s ship to adjust his course and we’ll be going.”
“Ok. Thank fuck for that,” Joel muttered, turning on his heels and heading back to the lounge. “I was beginning to think we had a problem…”
His boots clunked down the stairs as he disappeared from the cockpit.
Pieter and Brock exchanged looks as if Joel was the crazy one, and then shrugged before returning to their checks.
* * *
Joel returned to the lounge to find Giles had taken his seat next to Molly.
He felt a flash of irritation but knew there was more on the line than anything that may or may not have happened between the two.
Besides, he rationalized to himself, he’s probably boring her to death about some talisman theory or other.
He put his thumb up to tell Molly everything was ok, just as the motion of the ship seemed to shift and move again. Molly nodded to him and returned the thumbs up.
If she wanted him to rescue her, she was going to have to make it obvious, he decided, sitting down on one of the chairs near the front of the cabin.
“So, you think what?” Molly asked.
“Well, it’s kinda threatening to show up with a whole army behind us, don’t you think?” Giles posed.
Molly frowned. “It’s not even a full fleet— twenty ships remember.”
“Well, all I’m saying,” Giles was looking agitated and nervous, “is that it’s just a little overkill if we’re expecting this to be a friendly coming together of two new species. I mean, if someone showed up to talk to you, with reinforcements and weapons out, wouldn’t you think that there was something wrong with the picture. You know… that maybe their intentions weren’t as pure as they were saying.”
“Giles, it’s just a bit of strategic backup. Just in case.”
Giles took his glasses off and pinched his eyes. Then he sighed. “I… I guess.”
Molly lowered her voice and leaned in. “Look. I understand. And if it were just you, me and them in the middle of a desert, I’d be all for showing up unarmed. But it’s not. When they showed up at the edge of the Sark System they pulled the whole Estarian, Ogg and Teshovian alliance into it. That’s three civilizations. And the Federation… which is goodness knows how many different species, jurisdictions and lives. You and I have our values, but there is such a thing as being responsible to other people.”
Giles’s shoulders slumped. “I just hope it doesn’t telegraph to them that we want to start a war,” he muttered as he slipped out of his seat.
Molly grabbed his arm, and he paused. “Look. I know you’re anxious. I am too.” She glanced around the cabin to see all her teammates sitting uncharacteristically quietly. “Everyone is. But this is going to go down fine. We just have to keep our nerve and stay cool, ok?”
Giles suddenly looked embarrassed. He ran his hand through his hair and glanced around to see if anyone was watching him. He nodded and Molly let go of his arm, allowing him to stand up and shuffle back to his seat.
Molly put her head back on her headrest and closed her eyes.
You’re worried he’s right.
Like I said, taking half a fleet to a meeting isn’t my first option. But I don’t know what else we should be doing.
Well, there’s nothing to do now. As long as they keep to the plan, stay back and don’t open fire, everything should be ok. After all, that satellite data Mom sent over indicated they had several ships in the fleet.
Oz?
Yes?
She’s not your mom.
Well, she is yours.
Yes. But you don’t get to call her Mom. It’s… creepy.
All right. Man… you’re so…
I know.
Anyway, all I was saying is, I don’t feel like we’re bringing a nuke to a knife fight.
Good to know…
Chapter 13
Aboard The Empress, Outer Sark System
“Molly, you’re probably going to want to see this…” Crash’s voice in her audio implant woke her from her own thoughts. She looked around the cabin. Everything was still quiet with a tension that was palpable.
“Ok, coming,” she responded, hitting her holo to acknowledge his request before scuffling up and past Joel who was dozing next to her.
She headed through the lounge and into the cockpit to see Crash putting the outside view on the main screen ahead of them.
Her breath caught in her chest as a shot of adrenaline released into her system. “Wow…” she whispered under her breath.
Not quite like anything we’ve ever seen before.
You can say that again.
“Boss?” Crash asked her quietly without turning around. “We’re in position. What do you want us to do now?”
Joel appeared at her right elbow. “Holy fuck…” he whispered under his breath.
“I know, right?” Brock chimed in, his eyes fixated on the screen. Pieter was silent, his eyes also glued to the image ahead of them, as if entranced by some sort of magic.
A single AR ship filled the screen, almost overwhelming the cameras and the viewers.
“Is there any way to pan out?” Molly asked.
“Negative,” Crash replied. “We’re already panned out as much as possible. These ships are humongous.”
“Makes you wonder why the outer satellites didn’t get a better read on them,” Joel muttered, almost to himself.
Molly logged the observation. “So how many of them are there?” she asked.
Crash shrugged. “We can’t get a real count. But here’s an image off the starboard side. He pulled up another screen showing a number of similar-looking ships, all strangely organic in shape, like slightly elongated eggs bent at the front end of their length.”
It was difficult to see the surface detail. It was almost as if their eyes couldn’t focus on it, or that it kept shifting and changing.
Molly squinted, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. “Can we clean up the image?”
Emma responded promptly. “I’ve been trying to. It’s not straightforward. It seems the ARs have some kind of forcefield that is preventing us from getting a lock on any of the details… visual or otherwise.”
Pieter, frowning, scratched his head and stood up. “ARs?”
Brock grinned. “Shouldn’t it be T-A-Rs?”
Joel moved closer to the screen as if he were going to try and touch it. “Tars?”
Brock shook his head absently, his eyes still fixated. “The Ascended Race,” he explained.
“Ah, yes, he has a point,” Pieter agreed, also as if he were half distracted by what was in front of them.
Joel rolled his eyes. “You were saying, Emma?”
“I can’t get a read on them,” the onboard EI explained. “There are moments when their fields fluctuate where I find it difficult to even get a lock on them.”
Molly found herself short of breath and then started to breathe deliberately. She realized she’d been so absorbed with the new information she had forgotten to breathe. “It’s so hard to judge their size out here. There’s nothing to measure them against… Emma… any clues?”
“I got nothing,” she replied. “As I said… the fluctuations are almost as if they’re designed to stop us getting a lock on anything.”
“That explains the satellite having issues,” Joel grunted.
At some point, Sean had joined them in the cockpit. “Is this going to interfere with deploying weapons?” he interjected, matter-of-factly.
“Most certainly,” Emma responded quickly.
“We should alert the Admiral then,” he announced, looking to Molly to relay the order.
Molly shook herself from her trance-like state. “No. Not yet,” she said, taking a breath. “No need to cause panic. Plus, we don’t want to be firing on them anyway.”
Sean frowned, his chest puffing up already. “That isn’t the point. They have the right to know.”
“In a moment,” Molly said, distracted again and taking another step toward the screen. “Let’s just hail them and find out what the score is. They know that their first reaction is to retreat at the slightest hint of trouble.”
Sean, stood back, arms folded. Karina appeared at the cockpit door and shuffled in next to him, looking concerned about the new development too.
Joel edged forward again, his hands now on the back of Crash’s seat as he gazed up at the screen showing the enormous ships towering over them. “You know, we obviously don’t stand a chance against these guys,” he muttered looking back at Molly.
Molly glared at him for voicing his concerns and worrying the troops even more. “Good thing they’re friendly,” she said firmly, and almost defiantly. “Crash, open a channel with our pre-recorded messages. Pieter, cycle through them until there is something they respond to.”
Joel glanced over at Pieter then back to Molly. “Let’s hope that Giles and Arlene have this frequency thing correct and they’re not accidentally insulting their mother or something.”
Molly shook her head but stood firm, watching the screen, her arms folded across her chest.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Pieter deploying the various signals they had pre-agreed on. Nothing changed on any of the screens in front of her that Brock was monitoring.
After several minutes she shifted her weight finally and dropped her arms. “Emma? Are we getting any change?”
“No, nothing,” Emma reported over the audio. “No response. No change.”
Molly felt her heart sink. “Well, at least they’re not opening fire.”
Maybe they’re not reading the signals, Oz suggested silently in her mind.
Well, what? We need to get closer?
And perhaps drop our own shields. Take out some of the noise, so they can see the signal more clearly.
Like GI Joel and Sean are going to go for that!
I don’t know what else to suggest.
Molly thought for a moment. “Brock, let the Admiral know that he needs to fall back 50 km from us. We’re going to head in a little closer.”
Brock started to protest.
“Look, if anything goes wrong we can gate. They can’t.”
Brock nodded solemnly and opened a channel to the Admiral’s ship to explain the situation.
“Hi, Trev’or… are you reading me? Yeah. We’re getting instructions from Molly. Could you guys move the fleet back by fifty klicks? Yeah? Good. Thanks, man.”
A moment later he turned back to her. “Ok. It’s done. They’re falling back.”
Joel eyed him suspiciously. “That’s how we’re communicating with the other ships?”
Brock smirked and shrugged. “They’re friends now. No point in being all formal for no reason.”
Joel bobbed his head once, still skeptical.
Molly ignored the exchange and continued with her plan. “When they’re done, we’re going to drop our shields and move in another fifty km closer.”
Brock’s eyes flew open. “You’re kidding me?”
Molly sighed. “No. No, I’m not. What you must have already realized Brock… and everyone else,” she said, spinning around to eyeball Joel and Sean to include them in her explanation, “is that before we even got here we were vulnerable to them. Whether we have our shield or not is obviously not going to protect us from them one iota if they wanted to open fire on us. But with our shields up we may well be masking the signals we are trying to send. So… If we have any hope of making this work then we’re going to need to drop our silly illusions and just trust.”
“Anyone got a problem with that?” she added, almost as an afterthought.
There was silence in the cockpit.
“Good. Brock, make it so… just as soon as the Admiral and the others are back at their holding position.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Brock muttered, his fear subsiding, and his courage returning to him under her explanation. He turned back to his console to carry out the instructions.
Sean and Karina quietly slipped out of the cockpit door to confer. Molly stood back against the back wall, watching everything that was going on, marveling quietly at the ships that still filled their screen.
Joel sidled up next to her. “Hey, look… I’m sorry I er…”
“It’s fine,” she muttered absently.
“No. It’s not,” he countered. He moved closer. “Look, I think you’ve got this. And I’m behind you 100%. More than 100%. But just in case anything goes wrong, I just want you to know… I wouldn’t have changed this for the world.”
Molly snapped her gaze to him. “You mean…?”
“All of it. Even if I could have had a longer life. Even if this is it. I’m glad I followed you. I’m glad I’ve been a part of this team, and I couldn’t think of anyone I would have rather followed to the ends of the galaxy… or into a powerful alien trap.”
His gaze was steady.
Molly felt the emotions welling uncomfortably in her chest. She wasn’t ready for this. She opened her mouth, but words didn’t come out. She tried to speak, but her voice caught in her throat.
Joel nodded as if he understood. Then he hugged her. “It’s ok,” he whispered. “It’s all ok. No matter what.”
Molly felt herself slipping into brain fog. It had been a while since she had felt her emotions overwhelm that part of her brain. She had thought she had this emotional, interpersonal relationship thing covered. She thought she had evolved, but at that moment, knowing that they all might die any second, she realized that actually she had just mastered it by avoiding it at a completely different level. She avoided getting close to Joel, then Sean, and actually she was secretly relieved when Sean ended up getting married. Giles… when Giles shut down, it also took the pressure off her.
“We’re getting incoming,” Brock called, his voice breaking through the emotional fog and distraction.
Joel released her, and Molly moved away quickly, swiping at her eyes.
“It’s just a signal?” she asked, glancing at the readings on his screen.
Pieter interjected. “Yep. Interpreting it now, using Arlene’s talismans program.”
“What’s it saying?”
“Give me a minute. It’s going to take a few seconds to get a large enough sample and decipher it.”
Molly glanced across at Joel, suddenly aware of the gravity in the immediate situation.
* * *
Sean and Karina stood close together in the corridor just outside the cockpit. Sean could see the tension on Karina’s face. He wanted to alleviate it. To tell her it was all going to be ok. But he couldn’t. There was far more going on than she knew.
“Look,” he said in his serious, hushed operational voice, “I don’t know how this is going to go down, but I don’t like it.”
She shook her head, glancing nervously at the cockpit door. “Me neither,” she revealed. “This is all feeling very reckless. We should be getting out of here. A long way from here.”
Sean paused for a moment. “Yes…” he said slowly, choosing his words carefully. “But not for the reason you think. Remember I told you I’d overheard Molly and Giles talking last night?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I didn’t tell you everything. It wasn’t just that they were worried. They were concerned that the aliens are tracking Anne.”
“Why Anne? What do you mean?”
“Well, you know she has those special abilities and stuff?”
Karina nodded.
“Well,” he continued in a hushed, hurried tone, “it turns out that Arlene has long had a theory that she is some kind of antenna. She practically broadcasts a signal.”
“How?”
A shuffle down the corridor momentarily pulled his attention. He glanced behind her, making sure no one was coming in from the lounge. “I’m not sure. It’s a part Estarian thing. But I saw some stuff when I was in the Federation. Spooky shit. And I think Arlene might be right.”
“So you think the ARs are following Anne?”
“Maybe. In which case, we need to get her well away from this ship, and the Zhyn fleet, and in fact the rest of civilization.”
Karina’s face set in determination. “What do you need me to do?”
“Go get Anne,” he decided. “Bring her down to the cargo bay. We’ll take The Little Empress.”
“Is that going to be fast enough?”
“No. But it will give us a fighting chance. And may save hundreds if not millions of lives in the process.”
“Ok.” She hesitated. “If you’re sure this is the right thing to do?”
“I am.” She had never seen this kind of seriousness in his eyes before. Normally he was calm, collected and confident. But there was always a humor behind his gaze. A self-satisfied sense that everything was going to be fine and his cockiness wasn’t completely unfounded. But right now, all that was gone. It sent a cold chill down her spine.
She nodded, using her shiver to zip up her own feelings and anxiety about the situation. Then she echoed it by zipping her atmosuit up to the neck. “I’ll see you back there in a few,” she said decisively.
Then she headed back into the lounge quickly and quietly. Sean waited a moment then turned on his heels and pushed through the narrow door that would take him down the stairs to the downstairs passage as a different route into the cargo hold.
He knew what needed to be done.
* * *
Karina glided through to the cockpit, moving as quickly as she dared without alerting the others to the fact that something was afoot.
She casually stopped a few seats further down the lounge from where Anne was sitting. “Hey Anne,” she called over. Anne looked up from the holo game she was playing on Jack’s holo.
Karina smiled. “You wanna come see the hot chocolate this ship can make?”
Anne glanced up at Jack. Jack gave her a nod, so Anne slipped out of her seat and handed the holoscreen back to her.
Anne quietly followed Karina.
“Hey, young lady!” Arlene called wearily after her.
Anne stopped and doubled back. “Yes?”
“Wanna bring one for me and Ben’or?”
Anne smiled. “Sure,” she agreed then trotted after Karina.
* * *
Giles sat quietly on the other side of the lounge, the talismans out in front of him. He could see one of the enormous AR ships from the side window and as they approached he had felt the talismans in his case vibrating strangely.
Now with them out in front of him he started to feel a little heady and spacey. He glanced back and saw Anne disappearing into the back of the ship. She seemed to glow in a strange blue light.
He took his glasses off and looked out of the window again. The ships had the same glow around them. He squinted then pinched his eyes as if he could massage the weirdness out of them.
He looked again. There was definitely something going on. And Anne was definitely related to it. He checked the other people in the lounge for a glow. Arlene was glowing a little, but not as brightly. Jack was normal. So was Ben’or.
He shook his head and gathered the talismans up from the table in front of him. He needed to talk to Molly.
Moments later he was striding through the lounge to the cockpit.
Arlene noticed him hustling his way through. She’s known him long enough to sense from his demeanor when he was onto something. Quickly she slipped out from her seat and followed him up to the cockpit too.
Chapter 14
Aboard The Empress, Outer Sark System
Giles entered the cockpit, talismans held in his hands, struggling not to drop them.
“I say, there’s something—”
Joel turned to look at him. “Not now, Giles. We’re in the middle of making contact.”
“But… I think this is an important piece of the puzzle” he said, carefully setting the talismans down on the empty console to the left of the cockpit.
Pieter turned his attention pulled. “Are they—”
“Vibrating. Yes.”
Molly glanced over at them. “Well, that’s not surprising given they’re made of ether and programmed by the ARs.”
“Hang on,” Pieter called over, his attention back on his screen. “Something’s happening. The signals coming from them have suddenly increased…”
His eyes widened, and panic rose in his voice. “Shit. It’s like they’re broadcasting and heating up our sensors… I think they’re going to overload us…”
Joel was by Pieter’s console like a shot, watching. “Molly, Molly? Should we withdraw?”
There was no answer.
He turned to see Molly standing straight upright and stiff, her eyes fixed on a point in space as if she wasn’t even there in her body.
“Molly?” Joel rushed to her and was about to grab her by the shoulders.
“No!” Giles called out. “Don’t. Don’t touch her!”
Joel felt his hackles go up. He was about to lash out and tell Giles exactly where to go, but Giles talked fast. “She’s in a trance. Probably some kind of psychic lock with our friends out there. The talismans, the shields, the frequencies they’re communicating on… it’s all related.”
His speech fell away as he turned to see that Arlene had come through the door and was in a similar state, her body rigid and eyes fixed off in the distance.
“What’s happening to them?” Joel’s voice rose an octave, the color gone from his face.
“I believe they’re communicating,” Giles said, suddenly fiddling with his glasses as a crutch to deal with his own processing of the situation.
An eeriness descended in the cockpit as the rest of the crew turned and saw what was going on. Seeing their leader and friend somehow taken with the ARs made them feel instantly powerless.
What if they were being harmed?
What if they were being controlled?
Thoughts raced through each individual’s head, each person looking to Joel to make the next decision.
But all Joel could do was stand and watch Molly in horror, her absence distracting him from any sense of rational thought.
Cargo Bay, Aboard The Empress, Outer Sark System
Sean appeared from the weapons room. He was geared up, carrying spares for Karina. He threw her a rifle as he approached, which she caught effortlessly with one hand.
Anne looked at them both. “What’s happening?” she asked, her face suddenly tense.
Karina could see the panic in her eyes. She clocked the tension in her legs as she readied herself to run.
“It’s ok,” Karina cooed in her most casual, calming voice. “We just wanted to have a look at The Little Empress. Giles let slip they have the best hot chocolate pods on there.”
Anne eyed her suspiciously.
Sean cocked his head to the ship, and the two started to move, ushering Anne along with them.
Suddenly Anne froze and turned to face the front of the ship.
Sean grunted, grabbing at her. “Come on. We haven’t got time for this, girlie…”
Karina put a hand on his arm. “Hang on,” she warned, looking more closely at Anne’s expression. She waved a hand in front of her eyes. She didn’t react.
“She’s not reacting,” Karina reported.
Sean huffed impatiently. “Let’s get her on board, then we can deal with her.”
Karina stopped him. “No, we can’t. What if she’s having a seizure? She may need medical help. We need to stay here.”
Sean looked around anxiously. “Dammit.” He exhaled heavily and shifted the rifle onto his hip. “Ok. Let me tell Emma,” he muttered, pulling up his holo. “Emma - this is important. Something is wrong with Anne. She seems to be in a trance.”
“It’s not just Anne,” Emma returned through his audio implant. “Molly and Arlene are in a trance too. Just make sure you don’t wake her. There’s no telling what might happen.”
Sean took his hands off her gingerly. “We’re not to wake her, apparently.”
Karina sighed her arms folded. “Well there goes that idea then,” she said, glancing back at The Little Empress that was powered up ready for them to board.
Sean set his jaw. “We’re stuck. At least until she wakes up.” He explained that the same thing was happening to Arlene and Molly.
Karina looked at him, her eyes wide now, tinted with a deep, knowing sadness. “We’re too late. It’s begun.”
* * *
Molly felt her consciousness again as if waking from a sleep, but she was waking up into a dream. It felt familiar for a moment. Like she’d been here before.
And she had, she remembered vaguely: in a dream, not long ago.
Or was it when she was a child?
She couldn’t quite recall the details. The feeling had no information attached to it. It was just a sensation that ebbed through her being, like a memory becoming more and more distant.
Then she remembered something else. She was about to face The Ascension Race: the creatures she had wondered about for so long. The ones she had connected with months ago on Giles’s harebrained adventure. She remembered that now she stood in front of them… on her ship—in real life. Which wasn’t where she was now.
They were huge. She knew that much, even if she couldn’t see them. Her mind kept catching glimpses of what they might look like. But she wasn’t sure. They had a nebulous, etheric quality and she wasn’t sure if she was imagining it or not.
After all, this was a dream. Or a realm jump? Or something. It felt like a realm jump.
Then there was a voice in her head: uncharacteristic, like it was her own thoughts wrapping themselves around concepts and ideas in order to communicate with them.
She couldn’t feel her body. She thought she had hands. She could move them… just with the thought of it. She pulled them up to her face… and tried to touch her face. Her head. But they didn’t connect with anything.
Bewildered, she started to settle, aware that not only was she without Oz, but she was probably in some altered state. Like a dream, but not.
Her thoughts spiraled. One thing moving her to the next, linking her to another realization or an idea. It was like dreaming when she had been studying hard for an exam when her mind would dance through concepts in only a semi-lucid state, an equation leading to something seemingly unrelated at first but then morphing into a realization that in the waking world would only be classified as genius.
Time had no meaning here. There were no thoughts of others. Just concepts. Ideas. And nebulous realizations.
First she sensed technology. Technology beyond what she could feel her mind could grasp. Abstract ideas which she could understand the fringes of, but not the whole. She thought of harnessing zero-point energy from space itself to deliver free, clean power to their civilization. She saw devices that could teleport matter. She sensed she knew many things. Things that had previously been beyond her grasp because her brain lacked the capacity needed to hold and comprehend the complex ideas. But to try and memorize them all now seemed trivial.
All of it streamed quickly through her mind at once, like a fully sensory movie of what it would feel like to live in a world where all this was known and understood.
It slowed as her attention was directed toward something else. To the beings themselves. She felt like she was in a chamber, speaking with them, only without words.
She felt the presence of Arlene and Anne next to her. They were in awe of what they were experiencing too.
The ARs hovered before them, majestic and wise, but at the same time kind and gentle. And she felt enveloped in a peace and… was it? Could it possibly be love? That sense of complete acceptance for who and what she was? Was that even possible?
She felt them pull her awareness out of her own thoughts where she was getting stuck. They reassured her: This is real. This is possible. And there is nothing wrong with you that you cannot fully accept this love.
We have no intention of harming you, or anyone else. We have waited millennia for you to be ready. For you to work together to solve our puzzles and be able to contact us. And you’ve managed it. You and your family… you have brought us to you and we are grateful for this. We wish to bring everything you have seen to the rest of your people. You are our family. Our people. And we want to end your suffering.
Molly felt herself being released from their grasp and given the opportunity to process her thoughts and feelings lucidly.
“Our people aren’t ready for another race,” she told them. “They are scared. They want to fight everyone that is not them. They are afraid you’re too powerful and you will subjugate them. Or destroy them.”
This is why we have been waiting here. For you to come and collect the message: so that you can return to them and show them that we mean them no harm.
“But how am I supposed to convince them of that? Why would they listen to me?”
Because you are Molly Bates. You have helped them. You are known to them.
“I’m supposed to be dead.”
You’re supposed to be resurrected. You’re supposed to lead them to a higher plane where they will one day be ready to receive us. You need to prepare them.
“Ok?” Molly felt her down-to-earth humor returning. She imagined her teammates around her as a comfort, wise-cracking and being flippant in the face of the enormity.
Yes. Use your team, the ARs told her. She looked to her right and saw Arlene. She reached out her hand and she took it. Arlene nodded, letting her know that somehow it was all going to be ok.
Then Anne reached out and took her other hand. She displayed a look of sheer determination. For a moment Molly questioned how she could ever doubt herself, or the team. Of course, they could do this. Of course, they could make it happen.
We will wait for one hundred of your Estarian days. Then we will follow. You have until then to make them ready.
“Oooohhhhh, hell no!” Molly cried out in her mind, her courage evaporated. “It’s too soon! We can’t possibly.”
You can. Because now you have to. Good luck Molly Bates. The ability is within you.
And with that the envelope of complete peace and comfort started to evaporate away. Molly felt the beings leaving. Withdrawing. She looked at her sides and Arlene and Anne were slipping from her again. She was truly alone.
Everything was becoming harsher and darker, but albeit more familiar.
She felt herself returning to wherever she had come from, her memory of the science and technology and everything she had seen, slipping away with the feeling of warmth that was going away, and leaving her behind.
Cockpit, Aboard The Empress, Outer Sark System
“What about Oz?” Joel suddenly blurted out.
Pieter tapped furiously onto his holo.
“Yes, I’m here,” Oz reported in over the cockpit holo. “I was trying to reach her, but I can’t. It’s like I’m blocked out of her synapses. I’m operating only on mechanical pieces at the moment I think… although I’m collecting readings.”
Giles’s agitation turned to excitement. “Can you share them on screen?”
“Sure.” Oz brought up some graphs and telemetries as well as an image of Molly’s brain, color-coded and lit up in various areas.
Joel peeled his eyes from her standing body in order to look at the information on the screen. “What does any of this mean?” he asked.
Giles stepped in, peering closely at the data Oz had displayed on the main screen where the image of the alien ships had been just a moment before. “Well, as I understand it,” he explained carefully, “Molly, Anne, and Arlene all have some part of their brain developed in such a way that they are ready to communicate with the ARs.”
Joel frowned. “How do you mean? Ready?”
Giles took his glasses off cleaning them as if he were a doctor trying to deliver bad news. “As if they had the right hardware, almost. I suppose.” He replaced his glasses. “Preprogrammed even.”
Joel frowned and looked back at Molly, crestfallen. “What does that mean?”
Giles brightened a little, his intellect obviously taking over. “Well, it’s fascinating really. I think it means that they have the mutation or the evolution to be able to communicate psychically. Or Etherically. Or whatever it is. Like Anne has these traditionally Estarian abilities… like Arlene has developed hers deliberately over the decades… and Molly… well, the only thing I can think of is that it’s related to her pod upgrade and her housing Oz. We’ve known for some time that it affected her physiology in a different way, but we never imagined it would give her a direct link like this.”
He peered more closely at the data on the screen. “It looks like they’re dreaming,” he observed. “See this here… this is REM activity - but this here is the cortex, which is lit up like a Christmas tree.”
Joel shook his head. “What does that even mean? What’s a Christmas tree?”
Giles snorted lightly. “Sorry. It means that they are seeing things. And here, they’re hearing things. And this here is the language center.”
“You think the ARs are talking with them?”
“I don’t doubt it,” Giles responded now with an air of authority he would pull out for the lecture theater.
“Any way of telling what they’re saying?” Joel asked.
“No more than if you were dreaming and we could see your dreams.”
Brock looked panicked. He shifted around in his chair again. “Wait, that’s not possible is it?”
“No, Brock. Not with any equipment we’re likely to have,” Giles assured with a smirk.
“Well, that’s a relief.”
Giles shook his head. “We’re in the middle of an historic alien encounter and that’s what you’re concerned about?”
“But how are they controlling her?” Joel interjected.
Giles took a deep breath. “I suspect it has something to do with the field their shields are producing. And the talismans. She only dropped into this state when we brought these pieces of programmed ethe up here.”
Joel scowled at him. “When you brought them up here, you mean?”
Giles put his hands up defensively and shuffled back half a step. “Hang on… slow down. She’s been around these pieces before. A lot. But it’s only now when we’re trying to reach the ARs and we’re in proximity to their ships, that this happens. It’s hardly an accident. Plus… for what it’s worth, I’m sure she’s perfectly safe.”
He gestured back at the screen. “None of these readings look like her brain is being overwhelmed… only, it’s significantly more active in seemingly disparate areas. But remember, she has this altered physiology now.”
“But you said it was lit up like a Chimney Tree?”
“Christmas tree. Yes, but it’s ok. It’s not enough to over-stimulate her.”
Joel’s expression softened from fury back to just worry as he turned his attention back to her suspended body.
Pieter and Brock buried themselves in monitoring their various screens, searching for any detail that might suggest they needed to flee… Or anything that might give them more insight into what was happening.
Giles glanced at the communications screens where Pieter was working. “I suspect the frequencies are what triggered the contact. We were trying to reach out to them, repeating back sequences of pulses we found stored on the talismans.” His voice trailed off.
Joel frowned. “Frequencies of what? Not the Electromagnetic spectrum?”
“No…” Giles said slowly. “I can only think it’s to do with whatever the spectrum is that carries the Etheric field. The same field that Bethany Anne and Michael and others have used with their enhancements. It’s really quite fascinating.”
Joel narrowed his eyes, noticing a hint of delight in Giles’s voice as he relayed the information.
Brock turned around in his console chair. “You think their powers are related to TAR then?”
Giles shook his head. “No. But they’re tapping into similar technology. They have to be. Which was why it was one of the hurdles in the talisman quests. They needed us to have acquired some knowledge and use of the etheric before we were ready to meet them.”
“Good theory,” Joel cut in, “but how does this help us now?”
“I’ve no idea. How long have they been like this now?” he asked, looking over Pieter’s shoulder again.
“Just a few minutes,” Oz reported. “Hang on… something’s changing…”
Just then Molly’s posture changed as if she were released from the trance. Her eyelids started flickering and her posture returned to normal.
Joel immediately held her arms to steady her.
Then Arlene reacted similarly, as if also falling out of the trace. In an instant, Giles was at her side, asking her questions. “What did you see?” he demanded. “What happened? What can you remember?”
Arlene took a few deep breaths and pushed him aside. “Give me a minute,” she scolded him.
“Sorry.” His voice softened as he realized his faux pas. “Are you ok?”
She nodded, steadying herself on him. He guided her to the nearest console chair and grabbed an antigrav water bottle from Crash’s console to give her.
Molly was already relaying the information they had been given.
“It’s ok,” she explained to Joel and the others. “They’re friendly. We need to call off the Zhyn ships. Tell them to head back to Gaitune. It’s all ok. But we do have work to do.”
She looked anxious. Not like someone who’d had an out of this world experience. But rather like someone who had just had the weight of the world placed on her shoulders.
Joel noticed her expression was similar to that of the last Estarian leader who had been appointed, not hours after the election. It was one of bewilderment and intense responsibility.
Molly couldn’t respond. It took her a few moments to be able to hold her attention on what he was even asking her. Eventually she nodded. “I need to sit down in the quiet,” she told him.
He nodded, holding her by the arm, and led her out to head back to the lounge while Brock, Crash, and Pieter tried to make sense of their next set of orders.
Cargo Hold, Aboard The Empress, Outer Sark System
Anne’s body suddenly relaxed and she stumbled back a step as if her consciousness was released. She blinked her eyes a few times and rubbed them.
Karina, who hadn’t been more than a few feet from her lunged forward to help steady her.
“She ok?” Sean gruffed from behind her.
Anne opened her eyes to find herself in the dim lighting, with Sean and Karina looking at her like she had been shot or something.
“What’s going on?” she asked. “Where am I?” she asked, surprised to be using her mouth to form words again.
“It’s ok honey. We think you were in some sort of Estarian realm-walking trance or something, according to Emma.”
Anne frowned, her eyes conveying a sadness. A loss. “Ok,” she said simply.
“What’s wrong honey? Are you sad?”
Sean had already started moving off toward the Little Empress.
“I saw them. The ARs. They’re friendly. It was so… pleasant being there. It’s… just hard to come back. It’s like I was in a good dream.”
Karina felt her compassion taking over. She wrapped her arms around the little Estarian and hugged her tightly. “It’s ok. You’re safe. You’re going to be fine. We’ll take care of you.”
Anne pulled away. “You were trying to take me somewhere…” Her expression changed. “You were taking me off the ship.”
Karina couldn’t find her words.
“But why?” Anne demanded.
Karina held her shoulders firmly. “We have reason to believe that the ARs may have locked onto you. This means that the whole crew and fleet are in danger. We were going to take you somewhere away from them, to protect them. But also, to keep you safe.”
Anne’s stern confused expression turned to one of determination. “But they’re friendly. They’re not going to hurt us. They don’t want to hurt anyone. Not the Fleet, not the system…”
Sean called from behind them, halfway up the steps to the Little Empress cockpit. “We just can’t take that chance, little one. Come on. We’ll keep you safe.”
Karina had gripped Anne by the shoulders now and was poised ready to force her onto the ship.
“NO!” Anne shouted as loudly as she could. The cargo bay vibrated.
Sean glanced around nervously. “Uh oh,” he muttered. The loose weapons on the racks and boxes seemed to hum.
“What’s happening?” Karina called to him over the rumbling.
Sean exhaled forcefully, irritated but also more than a little anxiously now. “The kid’s got superpowers, remember. She can fry circuits and make things explode.” He started running down the steps to help Karina. “We’ve got to get her out of here before it’s too late.”
“Too late? I’m telling you… they’re not going to hurt us!” Anne screamed.
Karina held up her hand as Sean approached. He stopped dead in his tracks, and the vibrations and rattling subsided. “Ok honey. Let’s talk about this. Tell us what happened. Help us understand…”
Chapter 15
Aboard The Empress, Outer Sark System
Brock finished up his call with the Admiral’s lead ship. “I know man, it was nuts. But it seems like we’re in the clear. Ok. Let them know and give me a shout when you’re on your way. Thanks, Trev’or.” He disconnected their holo line and sat back in his console chair his eyes resting in the distance for a moment as he took a deep breath.
Crash flicked a few more switches, holding the ship in a stationary position as they watched their Zhyn allies reform and head back into the inner system.
“You ok?” he asked quietly watching Brock in his peripheral vision.
Brock let out a low whistle. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “Just getting used to my mind being blown. I mean, aliens, man… This is… trippy. And did you see that look in Molly’s eye when she was under their thrall?” He glanced over at Pieter who was listening now.
Pieter was nodding but suddenly stopped. “I wouldn’t say it was a thrall as such. I mean… it was more like she just wasn’t there.”
Brock tilted his head, conceding the point. “Yeah. I guess that’s what the G-man was saying.”
Crash quietly turned around and looked at where she had been standing. “The way Giles was describing it, it sounded more like she was in some kind of dream-state.”
Brock’s eyes widened as he sighed again, his focus softening as if he were replaying it in his mind’s eye. “Yeah… I wonder what it would have been like. Not that I want to know about any of that shit. Scary enough just knowing about it now…”
Pieter smiled. “I’m sure it’s not that creepy. It just feels odd because it’s new to us. We’re not used to communicating with each other psychically, and because she was unable to move around and talk to us we obviously perceive that as a lack of control.”
Brock frowned at him. “Hey, when did you get all insightful and stuff?”
Pieter ruffled his hair, embarrassed, and turned his eyes back to his holoscreens. “Oh, you know… You can pick up a lot just from watching people. You know…”
Brock grinned, a glimmer of humor and camaraderie in his eye. He glanced at Crash who winked back at him.
“Well,” Crash announced almost deadpan again, “we’ll be hovering here another hour or so before we gate back. So we have time for a break. Who wants first shift?”
“I’ll take it,” Pieter said without missing a beat. “You guys go and stretch your legs. Chill out for a bit.”
Crash didn’t need telling twice. “Thanks, man,” he said, standing up stiffly and stretching his back out. “Love the flying but sitting still isn’t my idea of a good time.” He ambled toward the door, and Brock followed a moment later.
“Thanks, Pieter,” Brock responded. “Hey, can I get you anything from the cabin?”
Pieter shook his head. “Not unless a Yollin brandy is on the cards,” he teased.
Brock sniggered. “I think we can do some of that when we get back for sure. It’s been one hell of a few days…”
He disappeared through the door after Crash, leaving Pieter to man the monitors and controls.
On Board Glock’stor Ship # 597
The pilot and the navigator kept glancing over their shoulders to the command chair. The engineer on shift, rather than working, was instead simply prodding harmlessly at his workstation and listening to the conversation happening behind him.
The entire bridge was tense, as if the entire crew was waiting anxiously for the other shoe to drop and put them out of their misery.
Admiral Clor paced back and forth across the bridge, until he returned to his seat at the center and dropped into it. Only for a moment, though, before he levered himself right back to his feet and kept pacing. He said nothing, simply holding his communicator to his ear in silence. Any actual contribution from him was evidently unnecessary.
The look on his face suggested he would rather chew his own eyes out than listen to much more of the conversation that he was only nominally participating in. Whether he objected to what he was being told or was simply bored, that was harder to tell. Either one could be potentially alarming, considering a bored Admiral could be just as concerning as an angry one.
Across the bridge, technicians Trev’or and Ruther shared an uneasy glance, only to both duck back to work on their respective terminals when the Admiral shot them a glance, his eyebrows rising with irritated expectation. They didn’t speak a word to each other, but it was clear enough that their feelings on the tension were the same.
Eventually, though, whoever was on the opposite end of the line decided to put the Admiral out of his misery and the conversation ended. Clor pocketed his communicator so quickly it seemed like he was worried it might escape, and with a sigh like he had just run a marathon, he dropped down into the command chair again.
“Ruther,” the Admiral called after a moment, glancing at him sidelong.
The communications technician snapped to attention, turning his chair halfway around to look at the Admiral. “Sir?”
“Open a command team line,” Clor instructed, his weight shifting to one side. “The full command team, across the fleet. It would seem that I have a fleet-wide announcement I need to make.”
“Of course, sir,” Ruther replied quickly, already turning to face his terminal again. He opened a communication line to the full command team, and patched it into the Admiral’s personal communicator. Everyone knew not to ignore anything from the Admiral’s communicator. “Ready, sir.”
Clor pulled his communicator from his pocket once again. “Fleet Commanders,” he began, “this is Admiral Clor. We will be beginning retreat procedures starting now. This is a fleet-wide decision; save for an emergency, there will be no exceptions. However, you are free to consider this the most casual retreat in Zhyn history. As such, there’s no need to hurry the matter. In fact, I encourage you to take your time about it. If there are any obnoxiously thorough maintenance checks any of you have been putting off, now is the time to get them over with. That will be all.” He hung up the call without waiting to see if there were going to be any questions about the matter, and he shoved his communicator back into his pocket.
Ruther cataloged a few requests for clarification, but on the whole, it seemed that the command team wasn’t particularly interested in the ‘why’ of the matter. But it tallied with the concept of a Zhyn warrior being trained to never retreat, and yet having received their instructions.
“Trev’or?” the Admiral wondered after a moment, gaze panning casually across the bridge again.
“Yes, sir?” Trev’or peered over his shoulder.
“Are there any obnoxiously thorough maintenance checks that we’ve been neglecting?” Clor wondered, quietly amused as he asked.
“Uh—“ Trev’or cleared his throat. “Probably, sir,” he replied. “Should I get started on those?”
“You may as well,” the Admiral answered. “And Ruther? Filter anything having to do with the retreat to the communicator in my quarters. I can deal with it later.”
“Yes, sir,” Trev’or and Ruther replied in accidental unison. They shared a slightly disgruntled glance with each other before they decided the moment of synchronicity had been a fluke.
They both turned back toward their terminals to get to work. It had suddenly become a rather busy day.
Cargo Hold, Aboard The Empress, Outer Sark System
Anne took a breath between explaining to Karina what had happened and how she’d experienced things. Sean listened intently, all the while trying to weigh the word of a youngster against all his years in military combat.
Glancing down at his holo he quietly tapped a message to Emma to get an update on Arlene and Molly.
Anne and Karina continued to talk. “It was amazing. I could see Arlene there,” Anne explained earnestly. “I held Molly’s hand. And Molly was worried that we wouldn’t be able to tell the Estarians and that they’d start a war then the ARs gave her some more information and she changed her mind!” Her voice was breathy and eyes wide in awe.
Karina was crouched in front of her, looking up trying to understand what had happened. “What information did they give her?” she asked.
“I’m… I’m not sure. All I got was a sense of what was happening…”
Karina glanced up at Sean who was still buried in his holo. “What’s happening out there?” she asked, jerking her head toward the door.
He shook his head. “Checks out. Arlene and Molly were both in a trance. They seem ok now. Both are recovering in the lounge.”
Karina’s brow furrowed. “Maybe we should take her through to the others,” she suggested. “Are you sure you’re feeling ok?” she asked again, touching Anne’s forehead like a mother to a sick child.
“I’m ok. Just tired I think.”
The door to the cargo area whooshed open, revealing Jack in a perfect silhouette against the corridor lights. “Ah. There you all are!”
Sean and Karina exchanged awkward glances. Karina stood up and spun around to face Jack.
Jack stepped inside and surveyed the scene. Then she nodded wisely. “You were going to make a run for it,” she concluded simply.
Sean started to stammer. “Yes. Er… no. It’s not what it looks like…”
Jack raised one eyebrow, her face otherwise motionless. “You mean, you didn’t find out that Anne was a beacon and you weren’t trying to get her away from the rest of the fleet as fast as possible?”
Sean scratched his head. “Ah, well, then it’s exactly what it looks like…” He shifted his feet awkwardly and then looked up at Jack again. “You’re er… not going to tell Molly, are you?”
Jack shrugged. “Tell Molly what?” she winked, holding the door open and motioning for Anne to come back inside. Anne trotted over obediently leaving Karina and Joel in the cargo hold.
Sean’s hand was still on the back of his head. “Thanks, Jack,” he called. Jack waved and allowed the door to close behind her as she and Anne disappeared down the corridor.
“Well, so much for saving the day,” Karina sighed, her face relaxing in relief.
Sean dropped his hands to his hips and exhaled slowly. “Yeah…” he said, more than a touch bamboozled.
The ship behind them powered down. Emma came over their audio implants. “I guess you won’t be needing the Little Empress right now either,” she explained.
Sean shook his head. “Nope. We’re good. Thanks, Emma.”
“Any time,” she replied before closing the connection.
“Come on,” Karina said. “I think the hot chocolate from that machine really is meant to be the best.” She headed toward the door and Sean followed behind her, still not knowing what to make of the situation.
Safe House, Gaitune-67
Paige glanced down at her holo and saw the call coming in. She and Maya were walking back up to the safe house after a long day in the base conference room.
“It’s The Empress,” she said, the weariness of the day evaporating instantly only to be replaced with a strange mixture of hope and anxiety.
She stopped and answered the call. Maya stood next to her watching intently for any hints for what was happening.
“This is Paige,” she announced.
“Paige, greetings. It’s Pieter. Thought you might appreciate a quick update.”
He paused. Paige waited without saying anything. She didn’t want to risk missing anything.
Pieter continued. “It looks like the ARs are friendly. They put Molly and Arlene in a trance and gave them information. Joel is debriefing Molly now, so we’ll know more soon, but in the meantime we’ve turned the fleet around. We’ll be heading back shortly once the other ships are well on their way back.”
Paige clamped her hand over her mouth, her eyes relaxing. “That’s… great news,” she managed through her fingers. She took a deep breath. Maya picked up on her relief and felt the tension in her neck and shoulders instantly melt away.
Paige suddenly stopped. “Hang on… so what does this mean? Are they still coming this way?”
“I think so. I don’t know the full details, but Molly muttered something about needing to get Estaria ready.”
Paige’s brow furrowed again. “Oh heck. Things aren’t great down here. The news circuit is full of all kinds of nonsense and it’s looking like that Fleet General Shit-head is going to launch the Estarian fleet no matter what anyone else says.”
Pieter’s voice sounded concerned. “That’s… not good. Well look, hang tight. As soon as we have more details I’m sure Molly will put together a plan. I’ll ping this info to Oz just to keep them in the loop and if you hear anything else…”
“I’ll holler. Sure.”
“Ok cool. Thanks, Paige. It’s going to be ok,” he told her reassuringly. “We’ll see you soon.”
The call clicked off.
Paige’s concerned expression reappeared on her face.
“What is it?” Maya pressed.
“Well, the bad news is that it is aliens. The ARs, as we expected. The good news is that they don’t want to kill us. The other bad news is I think they want to come visit.”
Maya clamped her hand over her mouth as Paige had done a few moments before. “What hope have we got? This is going to cause mass panic.”
Paige nodded solemnly and continued walking up the stairs to the daemon corridor. “You’re telling me. At this point, I’m fresh out of ideas.”
Chapter 16
Aboard The Empress, Outer Sark System
Arlene and Ben’or loitered in the privacy of the corridor between the cockpit and the main cabin. Arlene hadn’t got as far as the lounge before she started talking to Ben’or in a hushed whisper as he came through to see what had been going on in the cockpit.
Ben’or held her face. “Are you sure you’re ok? My ancestors… I shouldn’t have let you go up there alone.”
“Oh stop,” Arlene blushed. “I’m fine. And there was no way any of you could have expected what happened.”
“Well, as long as you’re ok. Joel said you were both ‘taken’ or something?”
“Well, yeah, our consciousness at least. I think we just went into a dream state or something.”
“Fascinating.”
“Yes. It is… and exciting. This was first contact with an alien race! How incredible is that? And I got to be part of it.”
Ben’or noticed that as the trance wore off and Arlene realized what had happened to her, her excitement and enthusiasm seemed to build. Right now, as she stood before him he could see the color returning to her blue cheeks and the glow rebuilding in her skin.
She was still a little unbalanced and toppled onto her other leg. He caught her arm. “Are you sure you’re ok?”
She tutted him. “I’m fine, you big lug. It’s ok. Just a little trancy. Nothing I haven’t done in my teenage years… albeit it was drug induced back then. But alien-induced trance… that’s one for the books!”
He watched her carefully as if he were monitoring her every bat of an eyelash for any signs of trouble. He was about to lean in to give her a hug when the door to the lounge whooshed open and Giles popped out to join them.
Also full of exuberance.
“Can you believe it?” he gushed. “This is truly first contact! With a more advanced race!” His gaze flicked from Arlene to Ben’or and back again… like a puppy with two toys he wanted to play with but couldn’t decide which.
“This new AR race has got to be even more advanced than TOM. I think I can tell Bethany Anne to well and truly suck it now!” His eyes darted off into the distance as if seeing a whole new scene for his life. “All those years, I wasn’t a proper archaeologist because they were all class 5 and below civilizations I’d made contact with. How she would look down on me!”
Arlene frowned. “Erm, hang on. I still think that was in your head. She always seems very, well, respectful… considering.”
Giles cocked his head. “Considering?”
Arlene had a glimmer of humor in her eye. “Considering you were a bumbling idiot on steroids!” she exclaimed.
Giles looked shocked. His mouth hung open. “I was nothing but smooth and suave, I’ll have you know!”
Ben’or chuckled and placed one of his over-sized hands on Giles’s shoulder. “I’m sure you were, old boy. I’m sure you were.”
“But this is my big break!” he insisted. “Just wait till I tell Uncle Lance. Class 10 at least, these guys were. They have their own language and their technology… to pull off something like this. Absolutely fucking incredible! I can’t believe it. Maybe I’m dreaming?” He played at pinching himself, almost on the verge of giggling.
Arlene chuckled to herself. “No, I think that was probably me.”
“Well, yes,” he agreed, suddenly becoming more serious. “Erm… are you feeling ok?”
“Fine.”
“Excellent. We’ll do a full debrief in a few. Just need to go and find out what’s happening with the whole war on civilization… but then we’ll get a full record on what you experienced. Oh, and tests. I’ll need to get some tests… monitor your physiology.”
“Erm…”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be back in just a few moments Arlene, then you’ll have my full attention,” he promised, before disappearing into the lounge to follow up with Molly.
Ben’or stood in the corridor with her looking a little bewildered. “Well, it looks like you’ve got your next six months mapped out for you!”
Arlene pursed her lips. “No way am I letting him use me as his lab rat again. I’ve been there before. It wasn’t pretty. Come on… Let’s go get a drink to celebrate. This is good news. The AR don’t have any intention of harming anyone.”
Ben’or laughed a hearty laugh. “Sounds like you have your priorities straight,” he said following her into the lounge. “This is indeed the best news we’ve heard all week!”
Ekks’s Office, Senate House, Spire, Estaria
The fleet had been launched and it had finally been confirmed for everyone else.
Ekks felt a petty urge to shout ‘I told you so’ the next time he saw any of the senators, regardless of the fact that he had slightly extenuating circumstances. He was a professional, though. He would rise above such immature urges.
His holoconsole was active in front of him, just waiting for him to do something. He reached toward it, ready to key in a call when his intercom reminded him that it was there, his secretary’s voice pouring from it cheerfully.
“Commander Ekks, there’s a Senator Romero Vero here to see you,” she informed him pleasantly. “Shall I let him in?”
“Go ahead,” Ekks returned, one hand still hovering in front of his holoconsole before he slowly lowered it to his desk again. He turned his chair just enough to face the door as it slid open, his eyebrows rising expectantly as Vero stepped in.
“Senator,” Ekks offered by way of greeting. “How can I help you? I’m assuming this isn’t a social call.”
Vero gave the active holoconsole a wary look as if he already knew what was going on. Ekks supposed it was likely that Vero did have some idea.
With a brief shake of his head, Vero drew his attention back to Ekks’s face. “Once it was confirmed that the anomaly the satellites picked up was ships, I knew you weren’t just going to sit on the information,” he replied, his tone faintly accusing. “The rest of the Senate may be content to throw up their hands and let you do as you please, but I thought I might make one last attempt at getting you to see reason.”
“Reason?” Ekks wondered, with a patience reminiscent of someone humoring a precocious preschooler. “From where I’m sitting, I’m being perfectly rational, but you have the floor if you’d like to try to correct that assumption.”
Ekks’s tone was not lost on Vero, whose mouth twisted downwards in sharp distaste. He didn’t waste any time bringing it up, though, and instead launched straight into his objections.
“We know it’s a fleet of ships,” he acknowledged, stepping closer to Ekks’s desk and gesturing to the holoconsole. “But we don’t know who or why. For all we know, it’s not an actively hostile force but you could be launching us straight into war by launching the fleet. Or it could be a hostile force, but we still know nothing of their capabilities. For all we know, they could wipe our fleet off of the star charts, leaving us helpless for whatever they decide to do after that and any future threats that will undoubtedly come along.”
He was pacing back and forth in front of Ekks’s desk by the time he finished speaking, though he came to a halt as he finished saying his piece.
He looked at Ekks warily, waiting for a response. The resignation hiding in the furrow of his eyebrows and the tightening of his jaw made it clear he already had some idea of what that response was going to be. Considering that, Ekks supposed his determination was almost respectable.
Almost.
Ekks regarded him silently, then without a word to acknowledge any of what Vero said, Ekks lifted a hand and keyed in the call on his holoconsole. It took some time before every branch of the call went through, the screen segmented itself so Ekks found himself looking at every other member of the Senate.
“Good evening,” he greeted silkily, folding his hands on his desk. “My apologies for such an abrupt call, but as the Commander of the Estarian-Ogg Space Fleet, I’ve come to a very important decision.”
Vero slammed his hands down on the desk, intruding into the call as he hissed, “Commander! You have a responsibility to your people. Have you even thought about that at all?”
Ekks waved him off with a dismissive flick of his wrist, though he didn’t bother to make a fuss when Vero refused to step back.
“I assure you,” Ekks sighed, glancing at Vero sidelong but with the bulk of his attention on the call, “I have the system’s well-being at the top of my list of priorities. Are you quite certain that’s why you’re so against this?”
The Speaker sighed, tenting his fingers in front of his chin. “We all know what it is you’ve been chomping at the bit for, Commander,” he pointed out blandly. “You may as well just come out and say it already.”
Vero’s hands curled into fists. “Commander—“
Ekks didn’t give him the chance to interrupt any further than that. “As the Commander of the Fleet,” he began once again, pitching his voice just loud enough to drown out Vero’s, “I have decided that it is within the system’s best interest that I launch the fleet. I’m sure you all have your own thoughts on this matter, but just know in advance that my opinion will not be swayed.”
Slowly, Vero stepped back from the desk, stiff as a wind-up doll. He dragged his gaze to the holoconsole, watching everyone else with slowly rising dread. Though Ekks tried to stay professional, he couldn’t quite restrain the small, unpleasant smile that curled one corner of his mouth. Vero’s expression grew only more pinched when he noticed it.
The Speaker drew in a breath until his shoulders rose, and he let it out. “You’re certain?” he asked, sounding exhausted already. None of the other senators said a word. Once it was clear that no one else was going to speak up, Vero turned on his heel and stormed from the office.
“Quite certain,” Ekks confirmed. “I’ve already put some thought into what I should say once it comes time for the press conference.”
It felt so much better than simply saying ‘I told you so.’
Aboard The Empress, Outer Sark System
Hey, Mollz. There’s something you should know.
What’s up, Oz?
Pieter just called Paige to loop her in. He thought you should know that she mentioned that tensions are rising on Estaria. Something about launching the Fleet.
They’re doing it?
Not yet. But there seems to be a mounting call for it in the Senate and the media.
Shit.
I know. Want me to do anything?
Not yet. I need to figure this out.
Sure. Take your time. Pieter has Paige in a holding pattern for now.
Cool. Thanks, Oz.
Molly collapsed into her seat in the lounge.
“Stay put,” Joel told her as he ushered her in. “I’m going to get you some water.”
Molly sighed, exaggerating. “I could murder a mocha right now…”
Joel smiled a quirky little smile at her. “You serious? Want me to get you one?”
She shook her head. “No. As much as I crave one, it won’t do me any good, even in the short term.”
He pressed his lips together, nodded once, and disappeared from view.
Molly took a deep breath. There was so much to process, and her brain felt like it had just frozen still. She tried to recall what had just happened and tried to organize the priorities but felt like her mind had rusty brakes that were preventing her from thinking.
You’re overloaded Molly. Just relax for a few minutes. It’s going to take time for the fleet to turn around in any case.
Ok. Just make sure you and Pieter are collecting all the data you can while we’re in proximity to the ARs. There’s no telling what kind of signals and messages they might be sending us… and we can work on sifting through it all later when we’re back at base.
Roger that.
Molly closed her eyes and felt herself breathing. She paid careful attention to the air moving in and out of her lungs… just as Arlene had taught her. Her mind’s eye flashed to the image of Arlene in her realm-jump with the ARs. She remembered the feeling of absolute confidence that she could do what was asked of her. And now, sitting here, knowing she needed to start doing something that confidence was just that: a distant memory in her mind.
“Here you go.”
She opened her eyes. Joel was there with an enclosed antigrav mug of water for her.
“Thanks.”
He sat down next to her. “So… you ready to talk about what happened?”
She shrugged, holding the water and not drinking it. “I don’t know. I’m having trouble putting it all together. I’m kind of preoccupied with the enormity of what they told me I need to do.”
“To prepare the Estarians for contact?”
“Yeah. I mean… they got it right. Logically. The Estarians are the threat. The Oggs are relatively chill and accepting. They’ll resist launching the fleet as much as they possibly can.”
“Except it’s not just down to them.”
“Exactly. From what I know of the politics I’m guessing the Estarians will force their hand, either legally or otherwise. Paige called and said it’s pretty much a fait accompli at this point.”
Joel’s brow furrowed. “Shit. That’s not good.”
“No. It’s not. The Teshovians haven’t the means to get embroiled in any kind of decision-making or contact… so it’s down to the Estarians.”
“Well, that narrows down where we need to focus our attention.”
“I guess so.” Molly cocked her head. “Ok, so assuming the Estarians launch the ships, perhaps…”
She hesitated.
Joel turned to look directly at her. “Go on.”
“Well, I’m wondering how much a deterrent our Zhyn Fleet might be. I mean, what if we just block the movement of the Estarians?”
Joel sighed. “It’s risky. I mean we may end up dragging the Zhyn into a war that has nothing to do with them.”
“Nothing to do with them yet,” Molly countered.
“True.”
“But you have a point. Plus, I have no idea how this will sit with the General. Hang on… let me see if Oz can do a bit of powwowing with Lance so we have an idea when we get back.”
Molly’s eyes took on a glazed look as she went into her own mind to talk with her other self.
Oz? What do you think?
I can ask him. Technically there are restraints on Zhyn military activity as it pertains to the Federation.
But the Sark system isn’t part of the Federation.
That’s what makes it a gray area.
Ok. See if you can get an answer on that.
Will do.
Molly’s eyes refocused on the seat in front of her. Remembering her water she took a sip.
“Oz is on it?” Joel asked.
“Yes. That piece.”
“You ok?”
She shook her head. “Honestly… no.” She sighed.
Joel leaned back and put a hand on her shoulder. “What is it?”
“Apart from being in communication with a new alien race? And having to prepare the system for it?”
He grinned and exhaled poignantly. “Good point.”
She lowered her head. She was too tired to cry. Too bamboozled to talk. Her head felt like a mush of confusion. “I just don’t know how I’m going to do this… What do I tell the Estarians? How are we meant to convince them to stand down… and I mean…”
Her voice wavered and cracked with emotion.
“… Is standing down the right thing? They’re scared. They should have the right to defend themselves against a new threat…”
Joel frowned. “You don’t really think there is a threat?”
“No. But look at it from their point of view. What if it’s not just a war-hungry few that are orchestrating this mobilization? What if it’s really what the people want? And what if they’re right, and I’m wrong about the threat?”
Joel took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, mulling her concerns carefully. “You know,” he started, “I know what the military decision would be in the face of a potential threat. But all threat assessments need to be done with the maximum amount of intel available.
Molly sighed, tipping her head back against the headrest. Joel watched a single tear of frustration trickle down the side of her face and neck.
He continued. “Deliver the message, then they can make their own minds up.”
“But who am I to take on this enormous responsibility.”
“You’re afraid of fucking it up?”
“Of course!”
He rolled his lips inwards. “You’re not going to like this…”
She narrowed her eyes and looked at him sideways.
He was on a roll. “But if that’s the thing that’s stopping you from doing your duty and protecting the people with the information you have, I think you just need to pull up your big girl pants and stop being selfish. This isn’t anything you aren’t able to handle. You can do this. Everything over the last several years has prepared you for this. You need to man up as it were and make it happen.”
Molly looked at him in disbelief. “Joel?”
“No, it’s his alter ego Joem,” Joel responded with a slight smirk.
Molly’s lips started to smile involuntarily. “You’ve never been tough on me.”
He shrugged. “You’ve never needed me to.”
“Till now?”
“Exactly. Think about it,” he explained some more. “We do everything in our power to make life safe for the people of the system. No matter what the cost to us personally. Even if it means we have to face our worst fears… or as in this case, feel a bit uncomfortable. It’s just what we do.”
Molly nodded slowly.
Joel held her gaze steadily. “You don’t feel up to it? You don’t think you’re good enough? Tough. As I said, pull up your big girl pants and get on with it. Because this is who you are and this is no time to be pretending that you’re not. You’re a leader - whatever that role demands of you.”
Molly sat in silence for a good long minute. Joel started to wonder if he’d taken the right tact.
Finally she spoke very quietly. “You’re right.” She started to stand up.
“Where are you going?” he asked, a bewildered expression creeping into his eyes.
She smirked back at him. “You make a compelling argument. I’m going to pull up my big girl pants,” she responded heading out into the aisle and moving toward the front of the ship.
Joel watched her for a second, then realized he should probably be following. He scrambled up out of his seat and hurried after her. Whatever was happening, he didn’t want to miss a second of it.
Chapter 17
Aboard The Empress, Outer Sark System
Molly arrived in the cockpit with a flourish. Brock turned suddenly, sensing a reinvigorated presence around her. Her face was set hard with a look of determination. A determination he had only witnessed on a couple of occasions when their backs had been up against the proverbial wall.
“Ok folks, listen up,” she declared.
Arlene and Sean appeared behind Joel who had just managed to catch up to her as she entered the cockpit.
“Here’s what we’re going to do. Once the fleet is well on its way we’re going to head back to Gaitune to regroup. The first outcome we must secure is stopping that Estarian fleet from heading anywhere near the outer system. If we can prevent it from launching, so much the better.”
Brock started to say something, but it was Pieter who blurted out a question before he could contain himself. “How on Estaria are we going to do that? We’re just one ship!” Molly recognized the timbre of his voice. He was scared. And perhaps just as perplexed by the situation as she had been just a few moments ago.
“We need to use our powers of persuasion,” Molly said, turning to include Arlene and Sean in the conversation. She gave Sean a very pointed look. Sean acknowledged it with a nod.
“We have one hundred days,” she continued. “We need to use them wisely. Oz is working on what we can do in terms of using the Zhyn fleet to stop them. But we still need to use every other avenue available to us… planet-side.”
“What does that mean?” Brock asked.
Molly pointed to him. “You can get on the holo as soon as we’re in range. Talk to Carol. She can use the graduate teams to find out anything at all that might help us. Any threads from the Northern Clan… track them down, find leverage. Lean on them. Undo whatever they’ve been doing. She’s got some very smart people at her disposal. Time to use them.”
She listed off other points of contact on her fingers. “Paige and Maya: get them to find out what’s happening in terms of the Senate and what needs to happen to have them vote no to launching a fleet. They’ll need to pull in their contacts like Garet and whomever else is around.”
She turned to Pieter. “Pieter, you can look into what angles that fleet commander might use to declare a state of emergency or martial law. We don’t want him pulling that card… not least because it will put those ships out into escalation, but because it will undermine the people’s belief in democracy. If it does go to a vote, we need it to be fair, and truly the wish of the people.”
He frowned, still perplexed. “How?”
“We’ll figure that out. I’ve got some ideas formulating. Find out what is possible and what is likely in the meantime.”
Ben’or, Jack, Anne, and Karina had shown up while she was relaying her instructions. The cockpit was packed with everyone straining to hear and learn what their plan of action was.
“We’re going to stop this Estarian fleet, folks,” Molly declared with such confidence that the others couldn’t help but feel it was a certainty. “And then we’re going to introduce the ARs to the Estarians in such a way that all hell doesn’t break loose. This is going to be the most peaceful first contact this galaxy has ever seen.”
She paused, looking each one of them in the eye. “Do I make myself clear?”
There was a combination of “yes, Mollys,” “yes ma’ams,” and even a few “sir, yes, sirs” from the assembly in the cockpit.
Molly’s face relaxed a touch. “Good,” she said, finally allowing herself to smile. “Let’s get to it.”
There was a scramble as everyone who wasn’t meant to be in the cockpit scattered back out to the lounge and Brock and Pieter got busy on the holocomms.
Joel remained next to Molly. He looked like he was searching for something smart to say. Molly didn’t give him the chance. She just glanced at him with a knowing look, winked and then walked out of the cockpit, leaving him chuckling to himself.
Outside the Senate House, Spire, Estaria
The walk to the main door seemed long. Ekks’s thoughts were far away and scattered, so it felt as if he was crossing a lightyear between one step and the next. As he got closer to the door, it was the level of noise that drew him back into the moment.
Ekks paused just inside the door that would lead out to the courtyard, taking a moment to compose himself. He had only a moment, though. It took only a few seconds before the crowd gathered in the courtyard realized he was standing there. The doorman and the security guards did their best to keep the crowd from swarming the door, but even so, a young woman with a holocamera bobbing at her shoulder still managed to squirm past them.
She was standing right in front of the door by the time Ekks stepped out. Though he didn’t scold her, he ushered her back a few paces. With some reluctance, she retreated a few steps. When a security guard moved to pull her farther away, Ekks lifted a hand to stop him.
Ekks stepped closer to the crowd, waving the doorman and the security guards away as he did. He cleared his throat and straightened the front of his uniform before he linked his hands together behind his back.
“I will be saying this only once,” he explained to the crowd of reporters, and there was a flurry of motion as they all started checking their equipment. “So if you plan on recording any of this, this will be your one chance to do so.”
He waited just a moment for the activity to quiet down, and when he cleared his throat again he had all attention focused on him.
“I know everyone has been waiting for someone to do something about the satellite signals in the outer system,” he began. His voice was calm but he projected it loudly enough for the entire crowd to hear him.
“I know how frustrating it has been, seeming as if no one intends to do anything. Seeming as if no one intends to tell you anything concrete.” He paused for a second, and he could just barely hear some discontented murmuring from some of the reporters, before the rest of the crowd hushed them. He smiled, just slightly.
“At last, I am here to let you all know what is happening,” he carried on. “The signals in the outer system are not simply dust or debris or asteroids. They are ships. We don’t know what they intend to do. But we do know we can’t simply wait to find out. Any time we spend just sitting on our hands is added time that something could go wrong. And so it is for this reason that we have decided to launch the fleet. If danger is lurking at the edge of our system, then we will not be caught unawares by it.”
He could see them all champing at the bit to start asking questions, but he held up his hands to hush them before they could.
“That is all I have to say for the time being,” he informed them, lowering his hands to link them behind his back once again. “There are many preparations to make to launch the fleet, and it is not a fast process. I would like to waste as little time as possible. But you have my word that you will know if there are any important developments.”
He started walking, and one of the security guards jolted back into motion, hurrying forward to begin clearing a path for him as he walked.
* * *
“You all heard it here,” a young, chipper reporter informed the camera, the crowd still milling behind her. “That was Commander Richard Ekks, Commander of the Estarian-Ogg Space Fleet, confirming that the until now nebulous signals in the outer system are from ships. No word on who the ships belong to or if anyone even has that information, but we know the fleet will be launching. Sooner rather than later, I would expect.”
Her image froze as she finished talking, and then shrank and slid to the side so it only took up a corner of the screen, freeing up the rest of the screen for the show’s host and her guests.
The Estarian host’s smile was too practiced and too bright for the topic at hand as she beamed at the camera. “That was from earlier this afternoon!” she reminded the camera, before she turned her thousand-watt smile on her guests. “Now that we’ve all had some time for the news to sink in, it seemed like as good a time as any to get some opinions on the matter.” She gestured broadly to the side, to her two guests seated at the other end of the table. A Teshovian man with fine, almost pretty features and dark eyes, and an Ogg woman with long nails and an expressive frown. Both seemed less than amused by the theatrics.
“With me this evening, we have Rue Morov and Goro Tuva.” The host folded her arms on the table and leaned toward them with an attentiveness that almost seemed fake. “Tell me, what are your thoughts on this latest development?”
Rue and Goro shared a glance, and Rue nodded once for Goro to take the lead.
Goro cleared her throat and drummed her fingers on the table, her nails clicking in rapid-fire succession. “It all seems rather hasty, don’t you think?” she wondered. The host’s beaming smile dimmed slightly, but only for a moment. Goro paid it no mind and carried on. “The Oggs and the Estarians are supposed to be in agreement on these matters. It’s the Estarian-Ogg Space Fleet,” she emphasized sharply. “Not the Estarian Space Fleet. And yet we weren’t consulted on this; we were simply told it was happening.” She turned a sharp glare on the host. “Is this how Estarians keep their word, then?”
The host stammered for a moment before she coughed delicately behind one hand and pasted a considerably stiffer smile back into place. “I’m quite sure it only happened this way because it seemed like the most necessary course of action. These are trying times, after all, and we can’t afford to waste any time.”
Goro rolled her eyes so emphatically she could probably see her own brainstem for a split second. “Good to know that the Estarians consider honoring their agreements to be a waste of time.”
The host stammered for a few seconds, but before she could truly begin backpedaling, Rue sighed and made his own thoughts known.
“I suppose there isn’t much I can really say on the matter,” he mused, leaning his chin in one hand, his elbow balanced on the edge of the table. “Compared to everyone else, we have few ships. Certainly nothing that compares to the Space Fleet. Even so, the Commander has declared that he’ll be sending the fleet right into Teshovian space. Whether we have similar resources or not, it would have been a nice gesture to let us know in advance that he’ll be trying to wage war in our backyard.”
Even if she hadn’t come up with anything to say to defend herself, the host had at least gathered her composure by then. “I’m sure everything will line up soon enough,” she insisted, too upbeat to be speaking about impending war and invasions. “This is just the beginning, after all.”
If anything, Goro and Rue seemed all the more exasperated by the declaration, and the host hurried to move on from there. She didn’t need another fight breaking out on air if she wanted to avoid another stern lecture from her producers.
She turned her attention from her guests to the camera after that. “Now, sit tight for a few words from our sponsors, and we’ll be right back!”
Beaufort’s Office, Senate House, Estaria
Voices chattered, loud and hurried, frantic with excitement and concern alike. It was too loud to simply fade into white noise, snatches, and snippets of the various conversations too audible to fully tune them out.
Worse still were the people who were simply talking to themselves, voices carrying over the rest of the crowd as they checked equipment and rehearsed potential lines for when the press conference would inevitably be broadcast.
A man’s office was supposed to be a productive place. For the most part, though, Garet didn’t feel very productive. Mostly he felt a migraine threatening to lay him on his ass. He dug the heels of his palms against his eyes until gray and black patterns fizzed against the insides of his eyelids. It didn’t help with the headache or with the noise, but at least it was better than nothing.
The noise might actually drive him crazy. Garet groaned and heaved his window shut, but it wasn’t particularly helpful. Muffled though it was, he could still hear the babble of the crowd on the ground floor.
“Why hasn’t security chased them all off by now?” he grumbled to himself, peering out the window once again before pulling his attention away from it. At that moment, he had a very uncomfortable understanding of everyone who had ever chased someone off of their lawn with a stick. He, too, sort of wished he could chase them off with a stick, even if it wasn’t his lawn, strictly speaking.
All he wanted was some peace and quiet to make a call. He was fairly sure he wasn’t actually going to get it, though.
Resigned to the fact that the muffled rambling was as good as he was going to get, he opened his holoconsole and set up the call. As he listened to it ring, a familiar circle of dots chased themselves in circles in the middle of the console, the word ‘waiting…’ in the middle of them. He reached up to rub his temples with two fingers of each hand, eyes drifting closed as he did.
He wasn’t aware his call was picked up until he heard someone talking to him, her tone light and lilting with amusement.
“Wow,” Paige observed dryly, sitting at a table so strewn with files that the actual table was all but invisible. “Who pissed in your cereal this morning, Sir Grumpsalot?” She was looking at him with her eyebrows nearly at her hairline when he looked up again. “You look like you’re contemplating murder in various creative ways.”
Despite himself, Garet huffed out a quiet laugh. “You’re not far off,” he replied, gesturing loosely toward the window with one hand. “I’m assuming you can hear at least some of what’s going on out there.”
Paige leaned closer to her holoconsole and cocked her head to one side to listen, and her nose wrinkled slightly in distaste before she leaned back again, settling more comfortably in her chair. “Is someone throwing a party on your lawn or something?”
“Were it only that simple,” Garet griped, and Paige’s eyebrows shot up once again.
“Well, now you have to tell me what’s going on,” she informed him pleasantly, leaning forward just enough to lean her elbows on the table and prop her chin up in her hands. “So what’s all the hubbub?”
Garet folded his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. “That is why I called, yes,” he replied wryly. “Granted, you’ll likely be hearing about it all over the news soon enough, but I can at least give you a bit of a heads up.” He paused for a second before he took a breath and stated simply, “Ekks has officially announced that he’ll be launching the fleet, right at the ships in the outer system.”
Paige’s eyes widened. “But no one knows what’s even going on!” she exclaimed after a moment of stunned stammering. “Is he trying to plunge us right into a galaxy-wide diplomatic incident?”
“Probably,” Garet answered simply, his voice low and soft. “Either he is, or whoever paid for him to have his position is.” He reached up to rub his forehead before he dragged his hand down his face. “He called me some time ago to bring the topic to my attention,” he admitted, slumping in his seat. “I tried to talk him out of it at the time. Maybe if I had been a bit more persuasive—“
Paige snorted incredulously, cutting him off. “Beaufort, come on,” she scoffed. “Ekks does what Ekks wants. Short of locking him up or killing him, no one was going to change his mind unless they offered him a better deal.”
“I know,” Garet acknowledged, leaning his head back against the back of his chair, so he could stare at the ceiling. “Even so, I can’t help but think that someone could have done something to keep it from getting to this point.”
“Maybe,” Paige sighed. “Or maybe not. Either way, we’ll do what we can to stop it from getting any worse,” she promised fiercely. “But that means you need to keep us filled in on anything you can.”
Garet nodded once, his attention returning to the holoconsole. “Of course,” he agreed easily. “I can’t make you any promises about how much I’ll be kept in the loop—matters in the outer system are a bit outside of my jurisdiction—but I’ll be sure to pass on anything I hear.”
Paige grinned. “Much appreciated,” she assured him. Her expression grew slightly more serious after that, her smile melting away until it was just a subtle quirk at the corners of her lips. “And we’ll…do whatever we can,” she sighed, running a hand through her hair to push it from her face. “I’m not sure what that is just now, but it’s still early.”
Garet lifted a hand as if to toast with an invisible drink. “To nebulous plans, then,” he offered dryly.
“To nebulous plans,” Paige agreed, lifting a hand in a similar gesture. “I would say I’d like to hear from you again, but right now I’m pretty sure that would mean bad news.” She hummed a low, slightly consternated note. “Vexing.”
“I’ll do my best not to be offended,” Garet replied, good-naturedly exasperated. “I’ll get in touch if I know anything.”
“Later, Beaufort.”
With that final goodbye, Garet ended the call and sagged back in his seat. Head tipped back to look at the ceiling again, he mused quietly to himself, “Interesting times we live in.”
In his line of work, he supposed he should have expected it. And yet, as the jumble of conversations continued outside and he reined in the urge to throw a bucket of water out of the window and send the crowd scattering, he felt as if he wasn’t wholly prepared for whatever was coming next.
Chapter 18
Base Conference Room, Gaitune-67
As the name likely implied, the conference room was supposed to be used for conferences and the holoscreen was supposed to be used for demonstrations. There were no rules against simply working in there, though. Maya, like Molly, liked having space to spread her files out from one end of the long table to the other.
She also liked knowing that Paige was right at the other end of the table.
Maya had been ignoring the news playing in the background. There were half a million different ways to stay up-to-date, after all, and she always worked better when it wasn’t quiet, so the news was mostly acting as background noise. Something to fill in the gaps in the air that didn’t require any participation from her to distract her. At least, that was the case until some aggravatingly familiar words started to play.
“I know everyone has been waiting for someone to do something about the satellite signals in the outer system…”
Maya looked up from the files she was perusing to squint suspiciously at the screen. “This can’t be right…” she murmured to herself, trailing off quietly as she watched the screen. But Ekks’s press conference, filmed from a bobbing holocamera and with glimpses of at least a dozen other people popping into the frame from every angle, continued to play uninterrupted. There was no cutaway with a station producer explaining that the repeat was a scheduling mistake. There was no banner on the screen to offer some insight into why it was playing again.
She glanced at the time on the nearest clock, and her suspicion ratcheted up a few notches as she realized that, on any other day, the weather would be on.
“So it’s actively suppressing other things,” she mused quietly before she picked up the remote and muted the press conference. She could only listen to it so many times before she had it memorized, after all.
“Something wrong?” Paige wondered from the opposite end of the table. “Or are you just talking to yourself for giggles?”
Maya flapped a hand at the screen, and Paige had to lean forward halfway onto the table to actually see it from her side of the room.
“What about it?” she asked after a moment, eyeing the screen in vague distaste. Without the sound to make it clear that he was talking, Ekks stood so still he may as well have been a statue. To call it uncanny was perhaps a bit extreme, but if nothing else, Paige was fairly sure she never wanted to be in the same room with him on her own.
“This is the third time I’ve seen this same press conference today, and it’s hardly even lunchtime yet,” Maya explained, folding her arms on the table and slumping down on them until her chin was resting on her folded forearms and she had to practically roll her eyes back into her head to keep them focused on the screen. “And I haven’t even been paying that much attention to it. So who knows how many times it’s actually played?”
Paige hummed a low note in acknowledgment, scooting her chair around the corner of the table so she could sit back down and still see the screen. “Weird,” she agreed before she took a glance at the time. “Hey, shouldn’t—“
“The weather, yeah,” Maya cut in. “That’s what I figured. And yet…” She gestured to the press conference on the screen once again.
“Wasn’t it super unbalanced after that last big senate meeting, too?” Paige wondered. “I mean, I swear I saw that clip of Ekks basically saying ‘no comment’ like a billion times a day. Everyone started getting seriously freaked out.”
“Of course, they did,” Maya scoffed. “I mean, ever since this whole ‘signals in the outer system’ business started, that’s all they’ve heard about. It’s been playing to the exclusion of…basically everything else.”
“No local news,” Paige sighed. “Not even any planetary news. Just…the outer system. Of course, everyone started getting jumpy when they weren’t even allowed to know what was going on in their own backyards.”
“I don’t think it’s an accident,” Maya stated cautiously. “It just seems a bit…much, to be an accident.”
“And an accident would have been corrected at some point,” Paige agreed. “Plus…” She picked up the remote and started scrolling through news stations. On each one, it was the same press conference. “It was like this last time, too. If it was an accident, I don’t think it would be on every news station.”
Maya reached out as she sat up, flexing her fingers open and closed expectantly until Paige slid the remote across the table to her. Maya kept scrolling through channels until her exasperation compelled her to simply shut the screen off. “It really is all of them,” she groused, slumping back in her seat. “This isn’t a network thing or a journalist thing. This has to be coming straight from Cyber Communications.” Her voice got quieter as she spoke until Paige had to lean closer to hear her, as Maya very nearly forgot that there was someone else in the room with her and that she was not actually speaking to just herself. “That’s the only source that would have access to all of them.”
Paige cleared her throat and drummed her hands lightly the table, Maya’s startled attention snapping back to her again. She offered a crooked, sheepish smile.
“Someone has to be futzing with the scheduling algorithms,” Maya continued, sure and steady. “That’s the only way every station would have the same footage and the same oversaturation when there was a whole crowd of reporters at the conference and there are other things that aren’t being covered.”
“Then we need to get a handle on this,” Paige replied decisively, straightening up in her seat and turning to the side to get up. “I mean, you’ve done all…this,” she flicked one hand toward where the screen had been until a moment ago, “before, so if you say it’s Cyber Communications then I’m willing to put my money there.”
With a final, decisive nod, she started toward the conference room door.
“Where are you going?” Maya asked, bemused, getting halfway to her feet.
Paige turned, walking backward for a moment as she replied, “I’m going to call to let Bates know. She’ll probably want to do something about this.”
Maya nodded slowly in agreement and sat back down. “Right. Let me know if anything exciting happens.”
Paige flashed her a thumbs-up before turning to step through the door. Maya watched the door for a moment before reluctantly pulling her attention back to her work. After all, she doubted she would miss it if anything new came up.
Special Task Force Offices, Undisclosed Location, Estaria
The lights above the bullpen flickered. The bulbs probably should have been changed weeks ago, but they still had a few weeks left until they actually died, and so no one had bothered. Rather than finally dealing with it, Elroy simply watched them flicker a few more times before they steadied once again.
In the cubicle to his left, he could hear Dhashana organizing the hard copies of the last two weeks’ files, preparing them to be sent down to the archives. In the cubicle to his right, he could hear Soraya tapping her stylus against the edge of her desk as she proofread a weekly report.
It was quiet until he heard Soraya jump in surprise, slam her knees into her desk, and start swearing profusely. Despite that, when she answered her communicator, her, “How can I be of assistance, ma’am?” sounded remarkably steady and professional.
Elroy slowly straightened up in his seat, getting ready to get to his feet as he listened. Soraya’s end of the conversation mostly consisted of a series of hums and “uh huhs” until she finished it off with, “Of course. We’ll be right up, ma’am.”
He heard her chair slide away from her desk, and by the time she was standing in his cubicle, he was already on his feet and stretching his arms over his head. “Upstairs?” he guessed.
“Upstairs,” Soraya confirmed before she turned to lead the way. As they passed Dhashana’s cubicle, she nearly tripped as she stomped her feet back into her shoes before she fell into step with them.
They were admitted into Bates’s office as soon as Soraya knocked, and they filed in one by one to stand in front of Bates’s desk. Her holoconsole was still open, a call recently finished.
Without any preamble, she began speaking. “It seems safe to assume that you three have noticed how single-minded the news has been lately.”
Soraya nodded once. “Of course, ma’am.”
Bates hummed in acknowledgment. “It’s been brought to my attention recently that this intense level of focus is likely not an accident. The odds are high that someone at Cyber Communications has been fooling with things to make sure that there is always coverage of the outer system debacle,” she explained briefly.
“That is where the three of you come into play.” She gave them a pointed look. “However you see fit to do so, I need you three to find the culprit and take them into custody. If we’re going to straighten this mess out, then we need to start somewhere.”
“You’re leaving the details up to us?” Soraya asked slowly, caught somewhere between disbelief and double-checking.
“You know what you’re doing,” Bates replied, offering it as confirmation. “I expect to be kept informed of what’s going on, but I have no intentions of micromanaging you.”
“Of course, ma’am,” Soraya replied, as if the words were simply habit whenever Bates spoke. “We’ll get started immediately.”
“See that you do.” Bates waved them toward the door again.
The three of them trekked back down the stairs in thoughtful silence. When they made it back to the bullpen, rather than returning to their individual cubicles, Soraya and Dhashana instead dragged their chairs into Elroy’s cubicle.
They started out with the basics, simply dredging up as much unclassified information on Cyber Communications as they could, until all three of their holoconsoles were a mess of tabs and windows.
The public information offered little to go off of. It was time to change tacks.
“Any new employees?” Soraya asked, idly twisting her chair just slightly from one side to the other. “This is a recent issue, so either someone new has been introduced or something happened with an old-timer. I figure Occam’s Razor is at play here, so we’ll check for newbies first.”
Elroy hummed, the universal sound for ‘give me a sec,’ and it was followed by the rapid sound of typing. A moment later, six pictures popped up on screen.
“All of them have only been working in Cyber Communications for a few months at most,” he offered, hands still poised over his keyboard.
Soraya wrinkled her nose slightly in distaste. “That’s still a lot of information to check, though. I was hoping this would be quick.”
“Hang on.” Dhashana glanced over the information briefly, before highlighting two of them; a woman named Jennifer and a nondescript man named Ben. “These two are the only ones who would have the authority to tweak broadcasting to this extent,” she offered. “The other four are interns or lower level workers.”
“And everyone else has been established there long enough that we probably would have gotten trouble from them before this,” Elroy added. “Should I try to see how much of their stuff I can get through without being onsite?”
“Hold on.” Soraya held a hand up before she leaned closer to the screen. Slowly, she pointed to Jennifer’s picture and the job title beneath it. “Didn’t her predecessor die not that long ago?” she asked pointedly.
“Murdered, yeah,” Dhashana confirmed. “She got shot. Sniped, if you want to be specific.”
“A woman gets murdered, and now her successor is one of our most likely suspects,” Soraya mused, head cocked to one side as she contemplated the picture. “Seems a bit too convenient if you ask me. Start with her.”
“Got it.” Elroy flashed her a thumbs-up before he started typing again.
It was only a minute later when he made a disgusted noise and leaned back from his console as if it had offended him.
“Problem?” Soraya asked blandly.
“Firewall,” he grumbled before he cracked his knuckles and started typing again. “Give me a minute.”
He pulled up a list of employees, glanced at it quickly, and kept typing. A few minutes later, he crowed, “Got it!”
“Already?” Soraya wondered, peering over his shoulder. “How’d you bypass it?”
“Didn’t,” he answered, tone distracted. “Interns’ accounts have less security. Got into one of those and used it as a proxy so Jennifer’s account thinks the intrusion is coming from within the local network.”
The bullpen lapsed into silence after that, and after a minute Soraya settled back into her seat once it became apparent that watching Elroy work wasn’t all that exciting in real-time.
Eventually, Elroy heaved an exasperated sigh. “She’s a complete amateur about coding,” he grumbled.
“You’ve said that about professional programmers,” Dhashana accused. “Not everyone has standards as high as the moon.”
“Well they should,” he insisted primly, leaning back into his seat. He pushed his holoconsole over for Soraya to look at. “She tried to cover her tracks, but there are bits and pieces of her code left all over the place. I can piece it back together enough to get some idea of what she was doing. Leaving breadcrumbs is an amateur move,” he insisted.
“Can we definitively say that Jennifer is the cause of the scheduling discrepancies?” Soraya asked before he could go off on an overly-involved tangent.
He nodded quickly. “I’d say so, yeah,” he confirmed. “Like I said, she tried to cover her tracks, so I can’t put all of the specifics together from here.” He flapped a hand at his console. “But her accounts accessed the scheduling system way more than it should have, and I can put together pieces of her override for the system. I mean, I can’t guess at her intent, clearly, but she’s at least had something to do with it.”
Soraya nodded slowly. “Right,” she agreed, glancing over Elroy’s holoconsole. She didn’t understand his digital work to the same extent as he did, but she could grasp the gist of it. “I guess we know what the next step is.”
“Time to bring her in?” Elroy wondered, already making copies of everything on his console before he started closing it down. They were going to need the evidence later, more than likely, which meant they couldn’t risk any of it being erased in the interim.
“Time to bring her in,” Soraya confirmed, getting to her feet. “We’ll need to be careful, but I don’t think it will be a particularly dangerous gig.”
“You mean waltzing into the Department of Cyber Communications won’t be like a battlefield?” Elroy wondered wryly, feigning a look of wide-eyed amazement. “I never would have guessed.” His antics got no response.
“I’ll go let the boss know what we’re doing. You,” Soraya pointed a finger at Elroy, “go get a car ready. And you,” she turned to point at Dhashana, “go grab the mockup badges and uniforms for us. We need them to actually let us into the building beyond the lobby if we’re going to do anything.”
“Cops, I’m assuming?” Dhashana asked, levering herself to her feet. Already, her thoughts were churning as she mentally put together a list of everything they would need for the disguises.
Soraya simply nodded in agreement and waved her on her way, as she got to her feet and headed toward the lift. She turned to call over her shoulder, “And both of you be quick about it. I want this all out of the way by the end of the night.”
“Got it!” Elroy called, already halfway to the garage.
“Understood,” Dhashana offered distractedly, back in her own cubicle and compiling the information they would all need for suitably convincing IDs.
The lift opened and Soraya stepped in.
Chapter 19
Department of Cyber Communications, Spire, Estaria
Jennifer knocked on the door and waited, standing patiently in the hallway until her boss called, “Come in.” She keyed in her entry code and stepped through when the door slid open. It closed automatically behind her.
With a cheerful smile on her face, she came to a halt in front of his desk. “Morning, sir,” she offered. “I have a few things I need to get your approval on.”
He reached out an expectant hand, waiting for her to hand it over. “Well, let’s see it.”
Jennifer knew her boss already. She had studied how he ticked, even in the short time she had known him. It was a skill she had developed. She knew how long his attention span actually lasted, so when she handed him a stack of half a dozen requests that needed his approval, she knew exactly what he was going to do.
He read the first two, just as she expected him to. Once he got to the third one, he read the first paragraph before he skipped to the end and signed it. So long as the first paragraph seemed safe, he was basically guaranteed to sign anything after the first two requests.
Her goal was the fourth request in the stack, tucked into it after two requests to shuffle various interns around and a request to upgrade the screen in her office. From its first paragraph, it looked perfectly reasonable; a request to let her overhaul the Department’s outdated, much-neglected social media presence.
She watched him scan over the first paragraph, and then he paused. Glancing up at her, he wondered, “Is this really necessary, Jenn?”
Though her smile wanted to crumble, she kept it in place as she nodded. She had known he might have questions. She had walked into his office prepared to answer them.
“Positive,” she assured him, and if her voice sounded just a touch too chipper in that moment, her boss didn’t comment on it. “The world is changing all the time, and so is the way that people interact with it. If we want people to trust that we’re telling them the truth, they need to feel like they know us. We need to be more present on the XtraNET, or—“
She cut herself off, closing her mouth with an audible click as her boss held up a hand to silence her.
“I don’t need the full sales pitch, Jenn,” he asserted, looking down at it again. “If you’re that set on it, I suppose it won’t hurt.”
He glanced over the first paragraph again. And, just as expected, he skipped to the end and signed on the dotted line before he moved onto the next request.
Within fifteen minutes, Jennifer was on her way back to her office with her authorized requests in hand. It couldn’t have gone more according to plan if she had scripted it herself.
She leaned back against her door for a moment once she was in her office, holding the stack of requests close to her chest. Then she pushed herself away from the door and headed to her desk. She set the stack of papers down and cracked her knuckles.
“Moment of truth,” she murmured to herself, opening her holoconsole as she did. Most of the work was already done, but she found herself scanning through her pet project’s coding despite that. She tweaked it here and there, just to make it a touch more efficient, and proofread it three times before she decided it was good to go. The last thing she needed was to be foiled by a missing bracket, after all.
The entire time she looked over it, she listened with half an ear to everything going on in the hallway. Every footstep that passed her door made her jump, yanking her hands away from her keyboard each time just to make sure she didn’t make any accidental keystrokes.
“Why is this so hard?” she groused to herself, practically whining the words. Immediately afterward, she was glad there was no one else in the room to hear her.
It wasn’t as if she had never snuck around at work before. It should have been as easy as any habit by then. But she supposed her latest pet project was a bit more intense than simply altering the scheduling algorithms. It reached considerably farther than just her own office building.
She had been staring at the finished product for almost a full minute, and finally she took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, and started the upload to the holo network.
No turning back, she mused silently herself. Whatever happened…happened, from that point forward.
She watched the progress bar creep along until there was a knock on her office door. She nearly leapt out of her skin, turning her chair around so quickly she practically toppled out of it.
“Um—“
She turned back around again to look at her console with panicked eyes as if it was going to suddenly jump up and do a dance for her. At least until her common sense caught up with the rest of her, and she simply opened a few other tabs to hide the upload’s progress bar. Within a few seconds, her console looked the same as it would on any other day.
“Come in!” she called, her voice slightly strangled as the brief panic of just a moment before faded. It didn’t leave relief in its wake, but rather just a sense of vague unease.
She couldn’t bring herself to feel even an ounce of surprise when the door opened and Andrew stepped into the office.
“Andy!” she greeted, sitting too stiffly in her chair, her grin too broad and her grip on her chair’s armrests too tight. “How’s your day going?”
He recoiled half a step at the greeting, brows furrowing in bewilderment. “Fiiiine…?” he answered slowly, with a level of wariness that was perhaps more appropriate for trying to decide if a snake was venomous or not.
Consciously, Jennifer toned her smile down and tried to relax in her seat, leaning back and sliding down slightly. Mostly it looked as if she was trying to hold herself into the seat for dear life, as if a rocket ship was taking off.
Andrew continued to watch her like he was waiting for her to explode for a few seconds before he cleared his throat. “…Anyway.” He didn’t step any farther into the office. She didn’t notice that he held a stack of files until he set them down on the side table by the door. At the deer-in-headlights look that Jennifer gave them, Andrew’s eyebrows rose slowly.
“You filed for a couple of intern reassignments,” he reminded her carefully. “I’m bringing you the information on the interns that have shifted to your roster.” He gestured to the files somewhat needlessly. “Are you all right?” He sounded less like he was asking for her benefit and more so he could decide if he needed to flee from a contagion or not.
“Great!” she assured him brightly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
His eyebrows rose again, nearly disappearing into his hairline that time. “You look a bit, uh…” He trailed off for a few seconds, before he settled on a careful, “A bit uncomfortable.”
“Long bike ride the other day,” she answered, and she had to fight back the urge to wonder why that was the first excuse she went with. “Sitting down isn’t the most comfortable thing right now.”
To say Andrew looked unconvinced was to put it charitably. He was quiet for a moment longer before he simply shook his head and started to turn away. He sighed as the door started to open again. “On second thought, I don’t think I want to know.”
He stepped out, and Jennifer all but sagged in her chair. Her hands went limp on the armrests, her legs splayed out slightly, and she tipped her head back against the back of the seat. She felt a bit like a marionette whose strings had all been cut with a blunt knife.
She wasn’t even sure what she was so nervous about. After all, her boss had said she could do it; she had made sure of it. So really, whose fault was it?
She waited until the door closed and she could hear Andrew’s footsteps retreating before she sighed and dragged a hand down her face. She turned her chair around again and slumped onto her desk, holding her full weight up on her arms. It took her a moment to regain her composure before she turned her attention back to her console. She cleared out all of the decoy tabs until she was looking at the upload’s progress bar again, and she pulled her legs up onto her seat as she waited for it to finish.
It seemed to take half the day before the upload finally finished, but when she glanced at the clock, it had only been a few minutes. She huffed out an irritated breath, but she didn’t think about it beyond that. She wasn’t quite done yet, after all.
She grabbed her communicator and made a single call. It was answered with a slow, “Yes?”
“The ball is out of my court now, Sloth,” Jennifer stated simply before she hung up the call.
Outside the Department of Cyber Communications, Spire, Estaria
“It looks so generic,” Dhashana mused, staring up at the building. “Hard to believe anyone here could be capable of committing any sort of crime.”
“That sort of mindset means working here is probably a great idea for anyone who wants to commit any sort of crime,” Elroy pointed out, before he loped ahead to open the door. Just in time to miss the eye roll that Dhashana aimed at his back.
Soraya took a moment to straighten her borrowed jacket before she stepped inside, making sure that not a button was out of place. Belatedly, Dhashana and Elroy followed her lead, until all three of them looked polished and pressed, as if they had been putting those same uniforms on each and every day for years.
The receptionist at the front desk glanced up only briefly when the door opened, and did a double take and straightened up behind her desk once she realized that the three people who had just filed into the building were all wearing uniforms.
“Officers,” she greeted carefully, bemused and concerned in equal measure. “Can I help you with something?” She was fidgeting already, twirling her stylus between her fingers before she set it down and tried to look professional.
Standing at the front of the trio, Soraya made it to the desk first. “Good afternoon,” she offered as she pulled the badge Dhashana had made for her off of her belt. She presented it to the receptionist just long enough for her to get a good look at it before putting it back on her belt. Behind her, Elroy and Dhashana both presented their own badges. As the receptionist’s concern increased until it could safely be called anxiety, Soraya got to the point. They weren’t playing dress-up just for a good time, after all, and there was no point in beating around the bush.
“We’re looking for a Miss Jennifer Etang,” she stated. “Could you point us in the direction of her office?”
“Is she in trouble?” the receptionist asked fretfully, even as she was already writing down the floor and the room number on a slip of paper.
“I’m afraid we’re not at liberty to discuss that,” Soraya replied, feigning regret as she said it. It was no surprise when the receptionist’s worry increased.
Sliding the paper across the desk with one hand, the receptionist pointed down the nearest hallway with the other hand. “The first lift on the right,” she explained. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Thank you very much for your assistance—“ Soraya darted a glance at the nameplate on the desk. “Miss Dreyers. If we need anything, you’ll be the first to know.” She took the slip of paper between two fingers, and as she began to walk away from the desk, Elroy and Dhashana followed her in nearly perfect sync.
“Have a good day,” the receptionist offered faintly before she fell silent, most likely still fretting at her desk, though Soraya didn’t look back to confirm the assumption.
The ride in the lift was swift and silent, and they walked quickly down the hallway once they got to the proper floor. A few workers peered out of their offices after them, whispering to themselves. There was a young man who, as concerned as he looked, didn’t seem surprised to see them. He disappeared back into his office quickly, as if he was afraid he might somehow get involved if he lingered.
They could hear Jennifer talking from inside her office once they were standing outside the door. Faint and slightly indistinct, but not so incoherent that they couldn’t pick out the words.
“The ball is out of my court now, Sloth.”
“She’s up to something.” Soraya’s voice was low and sharp. “Both of you, be ready.”
Elroy and Dhashana loosened up behind her, getting ready for anything.
Soraya tapped in the override code that Elroy had acquired just before they left the base, and as the keypad flashed an angry, urgent red, the door slid open just in time for them to see Jennifer setting her communicator down on the desk. It slipped from her grasp at the last moment, instead falling to the floor as she turned her chair around. She fumbled after it for a second before changing her mind. Instead, she simply stared at the three of them with wide eyes, her jaw working soundlessly for a moment before she managed an incredulous, “What—? Who—?”
She gave up on coherent words after that, instead simply gaping. She looked as if someone had decided to slap her upside the head with a rancid haddock; as if something had sent her entire world reeling in a single moment.
“Miss Etang,” Soraya began sharply, storming into the room, “we’re officers Soraya, Dhashana, and Elroy, and you’re going to need to come with us. You’re under arrest for the breaking of the mass communication protocols.”
Jennifer got to her feet unsteadily and stumbled back, away from her desk. Her voice was faint and far away as she wondered, more to herself than to Soraya, “Did Andrew…?” Her question trailed off before she could even finish asking it.
There would be plenty of time to figure out who Andrew was later, so Soraya ignored it for the time being. She caught Jennifer by the elbow and tugged her closer. As stunned as if the floor had dropped out from beneath her, Jennifer followed easily, and her hands were cuffed together behind her back in a matter of seconds.
Soraya stood in front of her, and when Jennifer simply continued to look rather lost, Soraya snapped her fingers in her face. With a startled jolt, Jennifer’s attention snapped to Soraya’s face.
“What were you doing when we walked in?” Soraya asked seriously, in a tone that brooked no argument. “We could hear you through the door; you were talking to someone.”
“There was no one in here but me,” Jennifer replied, finally getting her wits about her as the shock of the situation wore off.
Soraya arched one eyebrow and looked pointedly at the communicator on the floor. Before she could say anything, Dhashana bent down, picked it up, and put it into an evidence pouch.
“We can get the call log off of it, probably,” Dhashana offered, tucking the pouch into her uniform jacket as she straightened back up to her full height.
“Good,” Soraya sighed, paying no mind to the way Jennifer paled. “I suppose that will have to be good enough. Elroy?” She glanced over her shoulder at him.
“Already on it,” he assured her, just before he took a seat in Jennifer’s chair. He spent a second adjusting it to a better height before scooting it closer to the desk. He cleared away all of the extraneous tabs on her holo network console, pulled the keyboard closer, and started typing. “If I find any clues about what she did, I’ll let you know, but I’m not making any promises about being able to undo it if she did anything huge.”
“I understand,” Soraya assured him. “Just scour everything. And if you can, see if you can undo the damage she did to the scheduling.”
He waved loosely in her direction. He already had the console’s terminal open, and he had started to type and was hardly paying any attention to her anymore. “Will probably need to guess at what the settings are actually supposed to be, but I’ll see what I can do,” he replied already distracted.
“Use your best judgment,” she advised wryly, before turning her attention back to Jennifer. Soraya grabbed her by the elbow, but by that point the shock had worn off enough that some of the fight had returned to her. Jennifer yanked her arm out of Soraya’s hold, only for Dhashana to grab her by the shoulders and start guiding her toward the door like an elaborately shaped shopping cart.
The door opened and Jennifer led the way out, being guided by Dhashana all the while. Soraya, just before she stepped out of the room, took a moment to quietly let Elroy know, “We’ll fill Bates in and someone will send a car to get you later. Just keep up the police officer act until then.”
“It’s not like I planned on shouting ‘surprise, it was a trick!’ as soon as you left,” he replied, his words laced with dry amusement. “See you this evening, then.”
Soraya left him to it after that, stepping out into the hallway and letting the door slide closed in her wake.
After a moment of thought, Elroy tapped into the security camera feeds, bringing up the video on one side of the console’s screen just in time to see Soraya, Dhashana, and Jennifer stepping into the lift. He cycled through the camera feeds until he was looking through the camera in the lobby. He could tell when the three of them stepped off of the lift because he could see the receptionist hop to her feet and start fretting so intensely he could almost hear it through the silent footage.
When they entered the camera’s view, Soraya looked exasperated, and it was plain that Jennifer had started arguing at some point between stepping onto the lift and stepping off it. Elroy supposed he had lucked out if he didn’t need to deal with her.
He kept an eye on the footage until the three of them walked out of the building, and then he closed it and turned his attention back to the task at hand. He had work to do, after all, and he wasn’t going to waste any more of his time on idle distractions.
Hangar Deck, Base, Gaitune-67
The Empress touched down as gracefully as ever on the hangar deck yellow paint and a few moments later Paige and Maya arrived through the door from the daemon passage to greet them.
Maya had changed into her soft trainers, clearly having had enough of clipping around in heels. Paige trotted behind her, contemplating her life choices briefly.
“I’m so glad they’re back,” Maya called back to her. “It’s like a weight off me!”
“I know that feeling,” Paige agreed, grabbing hold of the rail and making it clear she wasn’t going to head down the steps only to walk back up. “How about I organize some pizza. You go down and meet them, and let them know, eh?”
Maya grinned and hugged her friend excitedly. “Sure thing. Thanks Paige.” She trotted effortlessly down the steps and bounded across the deck to meet with the crew who were only just disembarking.
Sean and Karina were the first off the ship. They looked bamboozled and distracted.
“Hey, welcome home,” Maya called over. She paused taking in their expressions. “You guys ok?”
The pair kept walking. “Yeah,” Sean replied. “Just one hell of a trip,” he explained.
Maya watched as he hurried off after Karina. Everything was not all right, Maya concluded. “Hey, Paige is ordering up pizza! Come back down to the kitchen in a bit!”
Sean waved to her. “Sure. Thanks!”
Brock and Pieter were the next off, then Joel and Molly.
“Hey, guys… Paige is organizing pizza. Kitchen. Twenty minutes.”
Brock and Pieter greeted her and hugged her. “Cool bananas,” Brock agreed. “Can’t wait to have some proper food and a beer. That was one hell of a trip.”
Maya watched Molly and Joel headed not to the stairs of the safe house, but the base meetings rooms, as if they were going to work.
She lowered her voice and leaned in to talk with Pieter and Brock. “What’s going on there?” she asked.
Brock adjusted the bag on his shoulder. “Serious shit going down. You heard we’ve got one hundred days to prepare the Estarians for the ARs heading in?”
Maya clamped her hand over her mouth. “No. I had no idea.”
Pieter nodded grimly, then ruffled his own hair. “Heavy stuff. Suspect they’re going to work,” he mused, motioning to where Molly and Joel disappeared.
Maya sighed. “Well, maybe I’ll take them some pizza and beer down…”
Brock started moving to take his bags upstairs. “Better they come out and join the rest of the crew,” he said quietly with a wink.
Maya smiled, understanding. “I’ll get Oz to summon them then.” She touched her nose.
Just then Anne came bounding over to her and nearly knocked her over as she wrapped her arms around her.
“Hey, trouble!”
“Hey, Maya! You wouldn’t believe what happened out there!”
“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me though,” Maya responded.
Anne looped her arm into Maya’s and started walking her across the hangar deck, chattering away. Maya was vaguely aware of the others getting off the ship, but she’d already decided she would send them a group holomessage to get them out to the safe house for pizza before everything got too crazy.
* * *
Fifteen minutes later Molly was in her quarters sorting her gear out when a message flashed on her holo. It was from Maya.
“Hi, all. Pizza in the kitchen. Beer is cold. We have a hundred days to solve this. It’s a marathon, not a sprint. May I suggest you take the time to replenish and socialize so as to alleviate the stresses we’re going to face. Beer. Pizza. Kitchen. Five minutes. Maya.”
Molly chuckled.
She’s certainly got leadership qualities!
This is true. We probably underutilize that in her.
I think it’s hard when Paige is just so capable and likes taking on so many projects.
But it’s good to know she is there when things spill over.
Oz paused. Are you heading down? I think the troops need to see you now more than ever.
Yes. I will. Gimme a few minutes and I’ll head over.
Ten minutes later Molly emerged from her quarters, showered and changed into her sweats. She headed down to the kitchen to find everyone already eating and breeze-shooting.
Joel pulled out a chair for her on the far side. She rounded the table and sat down. Joel passed her the pizza that clearly had vegetables on it.
“Thanks,” she smiled, taking a couple of slices.
Joel nodded. “It’s been a while since we’ve done this, eh?”
“It has,” she agreed.
“I dunno man. What if they get here and they mind-control us all into being slaves?” Brock posited between mouthfuls of cheesy-goodness.
Crash raised one eyebrow at him.
Sean shifted awkwardly in his seat. “He’s got a point. I mean, we have no way of knowing their intentions. We could just be making it easier for them to come and take over.”
Karina glanced at him from across the table, but said nothing. She took another swig of her beer.
Molly noticed the conversation. Then she noticed Joel watching her to see if she was going to interject or counter what they were saying.
“Hey look, guys…” she interjected. “I know this is all a bit… surreal. And I know it’s difficult to trust something that you haven’t experienced, but we’re going to get through this. And we’re not going to be mind-controlled or anything else. We just need to stop this system falling into civil war.”
She paused, letting her words sink in. Everyone else at the table had fallen silent, listening to her. “We’ve got one hundred days. That’s just over three months. A lot can happen in even a week. We’ve got work to do… and we can turn this all around. We can make a difference. But we’ve got to stay focused on the outcomes we want. Not our fears.” She deliberately tried not to look at Sean accusingly. She wasn’t trying to shame anyone. Just help them see.
She dropped her hand from her beer and continued speaking, looking each one of them in the eye now. “We need to be consistent. But we also need to be specific in our objectives. I have an idea brewing. Something that might be able to plug into the existing system which will give us a read on what the people want.”
“And if they want to go to war?” Sean asked.
“Then, we need to give them the reality check of what that means. They’re outmatched. They can’t possibly survive. But there is no incentive to fight. They’re not going up against anyone or anything that wants to hurt them.”
“I don’t know,” Arlene interjected. “Those ships looked pretty formidable.”
“Yeah, and if they wanted to take us out they would have done so already. That’s got to count for something,” Molly insisted.
Paige was leaning her face on her hand, fiddling with her beer bottle with the other. “It’s almost like we need a way to communicate that to the people.”
Maya nodded in agreement before taking another bite of pizza.
“I think I have an idea,” Molly confided. “But it needs some work on it.”
“Give us a clue?” Paige pressed.
“No. Not now,” Molly smiled. “Now we have beer and pizza. We can have one night off. Let’s talk about it tomorrow when we’re all fresh. For now, let’s enjoy a bit of R&R…”
Giles, who had been sitting quietly taking it all in finally spoke up. He raised his beer. “To taking the night off!”
The group chuckled, then raised their beers too. “To taking the night off!”
Chapter 20
Base Conference Room, Gaitune-67
In the hub of activity and everything else going on the team had barely noticed the absence of the diplomat.
Ben’or sat quietly in the low lighting of the base conference room, connected in a holocall with his Emperor.
“Our ships will be back in the inner system in a few days,” he reported. His tone was sober, but not showing any signs of concern.
“And you’re sure there is no malicious intent on the part of these ARs?”
“Absolutely certain that there are no signs of it, Your Highness.”
“Well, that is something. So what is to be done about this Estarian fleet?”
Ben’or’s jaw set. “I’m afraid that is the major problem.” He paused, shifting his gaze to the table in front of him. “If we allow them to intercept the ARs, I fear this will have massive ramifications for the rest of the Federation. Even if the ARs only defend themselves, the Estarian fleet will be wiped out. There will then be no way of stopping other empires from following suit to try and stop an imagined invasion.”
“How do we know they’re not invading, though?”
“We don’t for sure. But they have done nothing threatening, other than present themselves.”
“It is our own fear that is the invader.” The Emperor took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, contemplating the conundrum.
“This is true, Your Highness.”
“Can we intervene?”
“We have to be careful,” Ben’or explained slowly. “It’s a delicate situation. We don’t want to drag the Federation into it else that will end in all-out civil war.”
“What options do we have?”
“I think we need to exercise patience and allow our friends here to do what they do best: save the day.”
“You mean, leave it in the humans’ hands.”
“I think it’s the best course. They’ve never failed us in the past.”
“This is true.”
There was a long pause between the two leaders.
Finally, the Emperor spoke again. “Ok. Well, you have the use of the ships that are already in the system. I’ll be hard pushed to move more in your direction unless the landscape changes dramatically.”
“I understand, Your Highness. Your patience and trust are most appreciated.”
“Of course. Just… keep me posted. In the meantime, I’ll have some of our Generals work up some scenarios, just in case.”
Ben’or bowed his head. “Very wise, Your Highness. I’ll be in touch.”
The Emperor waved a hand briefly before disconnecting the call.
Ben’or found himself sitting in the very dim light in the absence of the holoscreen. He sighed, staring into the nothingness, churning the options in his mind. None of the scenarios he had come up with on the trip back or since had ended with an outcome where the Estarians didn’t suffer massive causalities.
How hard it was to save a race from itself, he pondered in the silence.
FINIS
Ascension
The Ascension Myth Book 12
Chapter 1
Molly’s Classroom, Skóli Uppstigs Academy, Spire, Estaria
(10 days before the deadline of the 100 days)
The bell rang, signaling the end of class. Students immediately started packing up the holos and gathering their gear, filtering out of the classroom.
“Don’t forget to read Chapter 21. There will be a quiz on it at the end of the week,” Molly called after them.
The hubbub of chatter had risen so loudly she wasn’t even sure they heard. As the class filtered out a few people said good-bye to her as they left.
Exhausted, she sat down, taking a moment for herself as the last of them cleared out. She pulled her hair back from her face and breathed out a long sigh. It had been a tough few months.
Glancing up at the door, she noticed Giles waiting for her. She closed her holo up and grabbed her jacket from the table.
“Hey, how is it going?” Giles asked, shifting a book from one arm to the other, casually leaning against the door frame.
“It’s going.” She shrugged, dragging a hand over her face.
“That good, eh?”
She breathed out lightly with a half laugh. “Yeah.”
She hauled herself up out of the chair and headed towards the door, pointing out it. “Walk with me?” she offered.
He nodded, pushing himself off the door frame and stepping into the corridor that was becoming quieter by the minute.
“So any progress?” Her voice was low, as if inquiring about something secretive.
“A little. Mostly we’re just trying to apply the segments of frequencies that we’ve already interpreted. Taking the computer a little bit of time. But we’re getting there.”
“Oh that’s good,” she said, feigning encouragement as best she could.
“I know we agreed at this stage it’s probably not going to be much help… But if there is anything else I can be doing, just say the word.”
Molly halted suddenly in the corridor and looked at him. “You’re doing great,” she told him, “and I appreciate everything that you’re doing. Really.”
He glanced over at her with a flat kind of smile. “Thanks. I just wish that there was more that I could be doing.”
“Well if you’d like to take on marking my end of term papers next week…” She flashed him a smile.
He grinned back. “If it would stop all-out war in the system, I’d be more than happy to.”
She started walking again, this time more slowly than before. “Yeah that’s the thing.”
He brightened a touch as he ambled after her. “So any news on the liquid voting system?”
“Actually, yeah,” she said, sounding surprised, herself. “Not only was it accepted, but almost as soon as we listed our candidates we had people voting for them. I think we’ve actually got a chance of winning if this war is going to be put to the vote.”
“Well that is good news!” Giles glanced up at the ceiling as if thanking a deity. Molly wondered which one it might have been, given his eclectic knowledge of cultures.
“Yeah. I must say Paige and Maya have done an excellent job getting the word out to the folks on our side.” Her speech slowed. “I’m still not sure entirely how they’ve done it. Paige is being a little cagey about the details.”
Giles gave her a sideways glance. “You don’t suspect that she is up to something, do you?”
Molly smirked. “I fully expect that she is up to something.”
Giles chuckled quietly to himself. “Well she learned from the best. That’s all I can say.”
Molly grinned and nudged him slightly with her elbow. “Speaking of dramatic influence… How are your presentations going?”
He tilted his head modestly. “Pretty good I think. I mean obviously we won’t know until the Senate cuts the final vote, but I think the Estarian leadership have warmed to the idea that maybe there is evidence to suggest that the ARs aren’t out to kill us. I have hope.”
“Good. Me too.”
Giles suddenly became awkward. He fiddled with his glasses, then took them off to clean them. Molly braced herself. “Err, I was thinking, maybe you’d like to go and grab a mocha and talk some more.”
Molly ran a hand through her hair, pulling it off her face again. She glanced at the floor. “Oh I would, but erm, I have to go to see someone with Sean.”
As if on cue Sean Royale came striding through the double doors ahead of them. “You ready?” he grunted.
She nodded, glancing back at Giles with a sympathetic look in her eye. “Rain check?”
“Yeah… Absolutely. Sure.” Giles placed his glasses back on his face, squinting at Sean as if trying to deduce some clue as to what was going on.
Sean, noticing Giles’s reaction, shot him his best dirty grin and slung his arm around Molly’s shoulder as they headed on down the corridor without him.
Giles’s face dropped as he watched them leave.
Molly didn’t let Sean leave his arm there though. Instead she sidestepped him as they were walking and slapped his arm off her as if she was swatting a fly.
Giles ran a hand over the lower half of his face, as if trying to wipe the anxiety away. It had been a tense few months, by anyone’s standards.
Just then, Molly turned and waved. “I’ll give you a call later,” she told him. “I need your opinion on a statement I want to make.”
Giles put his hand up and returned the wave awkwardly. “Yeah sure, any time. I’ll be up late.”
He was almost sure he saw Molly smile as she disappeared out of the door.
Bone head, he cursed at himself. Could you be any more of a doofus?
* * *
“I wish you wouldn’t do that.” Molly scowled at Sean.
“Do what?” He wore his best innocent expression. The one he reserved for lying to the team when he was pranking someone.
“You know what. Winding Giles up like that.”
“I never even talked to the guy!”
She narrowed her eyes at him as they hopped into the waiting pod down the side of the building. “You know exactly what you were doing, and it’s not okay.”
Sean surreptitiously rolled his eyes as she turned around to put her belt on.
“All right,” he sighed. “It’s just that it’s so easy to wind him up. It’s too tempting. Like bubble wrap just sitting there, waiting to be popped!”
Molly poked at the holoconsole on the pod. “Okay, whatever. Let’s get this over with. I got real work to do.”
“What and keeping Ekks from taking over the planet isn’t in your top priorities?”
“You know what I mean.”
The pod lifted up and disappeared into the stratosphere before Sean could even think of a clever comeback.
Outside the Senate House, Spire, Estaria
Work had become a shit show.
Senator Vero Romero hurried out to his car in the underground carport, weary from another day of arguing with people who were just too spineless to listen. He just wanted to go home, put some music on, open a bottle of wine, order a pizza and forget all about it… until at least tomorrow morning.
He got in and put the key into the ignition and turned it. The engine purred like a kitten just like it usually did.
He pulled out of the building’s carport and moved gently into traffic.
It wasn’t until he got to cruising height that he heard a clunk. It was quiet—quiet enough that he had to turn off the holocast he had been listening to. He had definitely heard something. The clunking continued and was consistent, as if a pebble had become lodged in the undercarriage.
His first thought was to damn the dealership; the car was still reasonably new. His next thought was to try to put it out of his mind. His commute wasn’t especially long and he could worry about his car making a strange sound once he was home and had a drink in his hand.
He had just started to relax his shoulders a little when the dashboard’s landing advisory light popped on. The rhythmic clunking got slightly louder. With an aggrieved sigh, he pulled off at the nearest exit to find a spot to pull over.
He didn’t notice when the clunking noise actually stopped, but only because that was the same moment that his engine abruptly shut off and his car suddenly plummeted to the ground like a potted plant.
He stomped on the gas, yanked on the emergency brake, twisted the key, all to no avail. The engine refused to reengage and the hovering systems didn’t take over.
It felt like the car fell for an eternity, everything happening in slow motion. He felt as though he could see every fleck of dust in the air and every atom in the middle. But really, it was only a few seconds before his car met the ground. He lifted his hands to brace himself, just as the airbags went off on either side of him.
He heard glass shattering as one of the windows exploded with the impact, and he heard a thick, soggy crunch. With some distant, foggy awareness, he supposed that was probably part of him. Slumped over his steering wheel, he tried to muster up the energy to sit up, to check the damage, to see if anything was broken. But it was like the air around him had turned into sand, holding him down so he could hardly even lift one of his hands. His ribs felt tight, but nothing hurt just then.
Without being able to pry himself away from the steering wheel, mostly he could see the edge of the airbag and a lot of red. But that didn’t make sense. His car was black. The interior was leather. It took a moment before his thoughts churned enough for him to realize he was probably bleeding. He made another attempt at sitting up.
It felt like he weighed a ton, and he gave up.
A crowd was beginning to gather around his car. He could barely hear them over the sound of his ears ringing. The words he could actually make out sounded distant and tinny, like they were echoing through a tunnel. He let the threads of conversation escape his grasp; he couldn’t bring himself to care what anyone was saying at that point. The sound of approaching sirens was a bit more distracting anyway.
Everything was going gray and hazy at the edges. The world crept back into place when an EMT started talking to him. He blinked at her, uncomprehending. He let the world fade out into white noise again once she started sorting through his wallet when it became clear he wouldn’t be answering any of her questions.
Everything became very clear once again as he was being removed from the wreckage of his car. In that moment, the pain finally made itself known. He passed out somewhere between his car and the stretcher, and he had no memory of being loaded into the ambulance. The drive passed in a haze of disjointed sound and flashes of light, and soon enough even those faded away to darkness and silence.
Even then, the pain wasn’t quite gone. But it relented, just a little.
He wasn’t aware of the tube down his throat or the preparations for surgery.
The next thing he became conscious of was a beeping.
He didn’t realize that it was much later. Nor was he aware of the oxygen mask on his face, or the private room his hospital bed was wheeled into.
Out in the hallway, a nurse made a few notations on his patient chart before turning to speak with the pair of police officers that waited nearby.
“An accident,” one officer decided afterwards, already sounding as if he was bored with the entire situation. “An engine that needed some maintenance. We’re done here.”
And Vero remained blissfully unaware of that, as well.
Ekks’s Office, Senate House, Spire, Estaria
Molly strode through the doors of the Senate House. Casually she headed straight to the receptionist’s station. She placed her arms on the counter.
“Greetings of the day to you.” She sounded almost as if she were bored. “I have a meeting with Commander Ekks.”
The receptionist glanced down at her holoscreen and punched in some keys. “I’m sorry I don’t—”
Molly stopped her mid-sentence. Quietly she shifted her energy, implementing some of what Arlene had been teaching her over the years. By now she had this particular maneuver down pat. She held the gaze of the receptionist as the mood around the reception desk seemed to change. “I’m sure you’ll see that I have a standing meeting with him this time every morning. Our badges are in your top right-hand drawer.”
The receptionist, a little dazed, nodded obediently. She reached her hand down to her drawer without even looking and fished out the two badges, placing them on the counter top.
Without even checking her holoscreen again, she waved Molly through.
Molly grabbed their badges, handed Sean’s to him, and walked straight through security as if she belonged there.
Sean jogged a couple of paces to catch up to her. “This never gets old,” he gruffed under his breath, just loud enough for her to hear.
“Well, at least that’s the case for one of us.” She sighed, without even looking back at him, or slowing her pace.
“Oh come on,” he protested, speaking a little louder now they were deeper into the building and away from any security personnel. “Don’t tell me this doesn’t even give you a little bit of a kick… knowing you can do this?”
Molly glanced at him sideways as they crossed the enormous foyer of the Senate House and started jogging up the staircase to the main office building. “Are you kidding me? You were the one that was so against me having this ability. It’s dangerous yadda yadda. Keep her away from the Federation yadda yadda. Any of that sound familiar?”
She shot him a steely look.
“Well maybe it’s growing on me,” he muttered sheepishly. “And as long as you’re not using it on me, I am kind of okay with it.”
Molly rolled her eyes at his hypocrisy.
Molly?
Oz? What’s up?
I’ve intercepted a report on the police scanner. It looks like Senator Romero has been taken into hospital following a car accident.
You’re kidding? What happened?
It’s hard to say at this point, but it’s looking likely that it was a hit rather than an accident.
Hang on… Wasn’t he one of the guys who was criticizing Ekks’s moves in the media?
I believe he was.
Something else we’ll have to talk to him about…
Sean glanced at Molly, clearly waiting for her witty come back. He noticed her facial expression had shifted to one of concentration. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. I just have a few more questions for Ekks, that’s all.”
They arrived at his office and walked straight in past the assistant’s desk, which was partially blocking their path. Ekks’s assistant got up from her console and started to protest. “You can’t go in there…”
Molly shifted her energy and silenced her without having to say anything. Knocking, they entered without waiting to be invited.
“Ekks,” Molly greeted him dryly. “I’d say good to see you again, but this is never my favorite part of the day.”
Ekks glanced up from his holo, bamboozled and simultaneously dismayed. After a second to recognize what was happening, he sprang to his feet. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded. “Patricia! Patricia!” he shouted for his assistant.
Molly pushed her will. “Hey Ekks, it’s me, relax.” Straightaway his demeanor shifted and he quieted down.
“Sit down,” she told him. ‘’It’s time for our talk.”
Obediently he sat down again while Molly and Sean stood in front of his desk, looking down at him.
“So, how’s the bylaw coming?” she asked.
“Still on hold,” he grumbled. “Seems you make a convincing argument. Haven’t been able to figure out how you convinced me… or how I didn’t see those other options in the past… but still. It’s on hold and I haven’t changed my mind since last time we spoke.” He looked resentful for a moment, before the creases on his forehead suddenly relaxed and smoothed out.
“That doesn’t mean that I like what you’re doing. But you were right about it being bad for me politically,” he confessed.
“So the liquid democracy seats are safe still?” she confirmed.
He nodded, the tension in the rest of his face evaporating too. “Yep. Safe and legal. The bylaw confining candidates to only vote within party lines would have been unconstitutional anyway.”
“Good… I’m glad that you see that now.”
Sean shifted his weight, watching Molly one moment and the changing reactions of Ekks the next. He shook his head in amazement. “Looks like it’s still working,” he added softly.
Molly nodded, her attention still on Ekks. “I’ve just had word that something’s happened to your adversary: Romero,” she ventured, changing the subject.
Ekks barely paused. “An unfortunate accident.”
“So you’ve heard about it already?”
“I hear about everything that is relevant around here. Is that why you’re here?”
“No, I’m here just to make sure that we still have an understanding. So what can you tell me about Romero’s accident?”
“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head, eyes wide as innocently as he could manage. “I don’t know anything about it.” For a moment he looked more like a person than a Commander. Molly wasn’t sure if it was his earnestness, or a sign of weakness.
She narrowed her eyes, deciding to dig deeper. “I must say, him being out of action for the Senate’s final vote will be quite convenient for you.”
“What are you implying?”
“I’m not implying anything.” She rocked slightly onto her toes. “Got to say though, it helps your cause… not having that kind of resistance in the House.”
“Well, this is true,” he confessed, strangely innocently. “But I had nothing to do with what happened to him.”
Sean glanced at her sideways and leaned closer to Molly. In a low voice he whispered: “Do you think he is able to keep a secret from you?”
Molly shrugged. “I’m not sure. Changing someone’s mind is different from trying to get them to tell the truth.”
“Unless you want to convince them that they need to tell you the truth.”
Molly smirked. “Ahhh...”
* * *
Ten minutes later Molly and Sean exited the commander’s office.
“I hope it holds,” Molly muttered.
“It should do. It’s worked all this time.” Sean did a quick calculation in his head. “About sixty-two days.”
Molly shrugged. “Under normal circumstances I’d like to test how long until it starts wearing off. But in this instance we can’t risk it.”
Looks like we missed someone.
What do you mean?
Sounds like someone is calling security over the internal network.
“Shit! Sean, we gotta move.” She picked up the pace as they hurried out of the Senate building.
Sean glanced down at his bloody knuckles and wiped them surreptitiously on his atmos pants.
“You hurt?” she asked as they hurried down the stairs to the foyer.
“No, it’s not my blood.”
Suddenly an alarm went off.
Sean grinned. “Clearly you’re getting complacent.” He chuckled as they hurried out past a bewildered-looking receptionist and back out onto the street.
“Shit,” Molly muttered again as the pair bounded down the front steps, two at a time. “Well we will just have to come back to see him again tomorrow. Just to remind him of the good decisions he made today. And maybe expand the scope of our questioning in the future, see if the asshole is planning on hitting anyone else.” She shook her head. “Clearly I didn’t see that coming.”
Within minutes the two were clear of the Senate building and striding across the street to the alley where they had parked the pod. Sean had suggested that they mix up where they parked each time to reduce the possibility of someone noticing them. After all, showing up every day in this kind of technology, and trying to remain undetected, was no mean feat.
They’d slowed to a normal pace, mingling in with the crowd before slipping quietly into the darkened alley.
“So how are things going with Karina?” she asked, making idle chitchat.
Sean glanced at her sideways waiting for her to get into the pod first. The pod hood opened and she hauled herself up before turning and looking at him, pointedly waiting for an answer. “She settling in okay?”
Sean scrambled to engage the correct part of his brain to answer a non-operational question. “Yeah,” he confirmed, hauling himself up and settling into the bench seat next to her. “Yeah, she seems to be doing fine. Happy now that she gets to participate in the missions and stuff. And of course the gang have been great including her in things like the holo games, and she’s even training in the gym with Jack a couple of times a week…”
Molly smiled politely. “That’s good to know.” She hesitated as if she wanted to ask something else. “And you…? You’ve no regrets over, you know… bringing her on board?”
Sean looked at her strangely for a moment, processing the question. “Well, obviously it’s been a bit of a game changer. We’ve both had to adapt… But, no. No regrets.”
He looked out of the window as Molly programmed the pod to take them up to Gaitune. Molly noticed the distant look in his eye and observed him, waiting to see if he was going to elaborate.
He felt her watching him. “And especially since it might all be over… I mean, what have we got? A matter of days? Ten at the outset, before it all… Well you know. It’s taken me this long to realize that life has more meaning when you share it with someone else.” He chuckled lightly. “Never thought I’d hear myself say something like that!”
Molly’s jaw set. “It’s going to be okay. We are going to sort this out, and it’s all gonna be fine. No one’s gonna die. It’s all going to be okay.”
Sean shrugged. “I don’t know, Molly. We’ve had a good run of things. I’ve had a good long stretch in the Federation too. But all good things come to an end at some point, and I just don’t know how we can stop this before it becomes too big a problem.”
Molly frowned at him. “Well then if you really think that, why are you working so hard to stop it from happening?”
“Because that is what we do,” he told her, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “That is how we define ourselves—by what we do. We don’t just give up, even if there is only a tiny little bit of help. We keep going and keep trying, we keep pushing it and maybe, just maybe, we might get lucky.”
It was Molly’s turn to look out of the window with a distance in her eye as the pod shot up into the stratosphere and beyond, the planet disappearing beneath them in a matter of moments.
They rode in silence for several minutes, the blackness outside wrapping them in the safety of space, as if protecting their anonymity from the rest of the world now that they had completed their mission.
Eventually Sean spoke. “What about you and Joel?”
Molly did a double take, then hesitated, looking for some words to keep him at bay with. “What do you mean?” she asked, cleverly buying herself some time.
“Well you know… There’s always been something between you two. And given you may only have a few days left before it all ends… Haven’t you thought about at least talking about it with him?”
Molly’s gaze was directed out of the window again, watching the blankness of space passing them by. There was silence in the pod for several minutes. Sean started to assume that she just wasn’t going to answer.
“I just don’t know how to have a conversation with him. Not now. I think it’s been too long.”
Sean chuckled lightly. “I really don’t think that can be an issue. Just talk to him. He’ll make it easy for you.”
“Why? Have you guys been talking?”
“Not recently. But you know there are some things that just don’t change. No matter how long it goes between us talking about it.”
Molly nodded, acknowledging the advice that Sean was clearly trying to give her. “Okay. I’ll see what happens.”
Sean gave her a stern look.
She held her hands up. “Okay, okay, I’ll do my best. Sheesh.”
Sean relaxed back into the seat and went back to looking out of the window.
Maybe he’s got a point?
Not you as well, Oz.
Life is short…
I haven’t got the energy or headspace to argue that right now, Oz. As I told Sean, I’ll see what I can do. Okay?
Okay.
And with that the pod tilted its trajectory and curved in towards the base on the other side of Gaitune. As they neared the big rock, they could see the hangar doors opening slowly for their arrival.
Chapter 2
Aboard Glock’stor Ship # 597
The bridge was unusually quiet.
There were no orders being issued. The navigators and the pilot weren’t speaking in a constant stream of mathematical jargon. There were no communications channels to deal with. There was just idle chatter and the hum of computers.
It was all rather eerie, as far as Trev’or was concerned. He hadn’t seen the bridge so quiet since the time someone broke the Admiral’s favorite mug, and even that had been the calm before the storm.
Beside him, Ruther was giving him a look, like he knew exactly what was going on in Trev’or’s head and was silently beseeching him not to do anything about it. Trev’or blinked at him innocently before turning to face the Admiral in the command chair.
The Admiral was paying more attention to his holoconsole than to anything else at that point, presumably working his way through paperwork he had been putting off. He probably appreciated the relative quiet, all things considered.
“Sooooo…”
Admiral Clor slid Trev’or a reluctant glance. It was a glance that asked if the technician truly wanted to continue with this line of conversation. Trev’or paid that glance no mind, though, and instead simply carried on as he wondered, “Are we sure this really counts as a retreat anymore?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be doing maintenance?” Clor asked flatly. “I’m fairly sure that was part of the order.”
“Multitasking.” Trev’or gestured flippantly at his terminal, where it was running a self-diagnostic program. “I mean, we’ve just sort of been stalled out here for a while. What are we even doing?”
“I’m not at liberty to discuss that with you,” Clor answered plainly.
Trev’or opened his mouth to ask another question, only for Ruther to elbow him sharply in the ribs from his left. Clor was giving him a flatly unamused look. At last, Trev’or fell silent.
Clor eyed them both warily for a moment longer, before he nodded once in satisfaction.
With that, he got to his feet, levering himself out of the command chair and heading towards the nearest door. “I think I’ll take a stroll,” he decided. “Try not to interrupt if something isn’t wrong. And then at least make sure it’s something that requires my attention; that’s what incident reports are for, otherwise.”
“Yes, sir,” Trev’or sighed as he returned to watching the diagnostic results come in on the terminal.
The door opened soundlessly and Clor stepped out into the corridor, his steps carrying him towards the mess hall before he was even fully aware of it. It was too late to be lunch and still too early to be dinner, but the mess hall was rarely actually empty. So he didn’t fight it, and carried on his way.
It wasn’t until he actually got to the mess hall that things got a bit weird.
Supervisor Gultorra was sitting at the main table, his boots on the table and his chair back on two legs. He was scrolling through a datapad, attempting to get some work done, to all appearances. To either side of him sat Kalvor and Tulnok, both of them sorting files. None of them were eating at that exact moment, but the trays on the table meant they had been just a short while ago.
That wasn’t the strange part. People worked through meals all the time.
The strange part was the fact that other soldiers were bustling around, in and out of the mess hall. Periodically, they would return to Gultorra to ask something in a low voice, or to shout something rather loudly from the walkways above the mess hall.
“Supervisor,” Clor sighed.
“Admiral,” Gultorra greeted, saluting as something of an afterthought. “How can I help you?”
“What are you doing?” Clor asked. He could feel a headache brewing already, and he dug two knuckles against the corners of his eyes to stave it off.
“I am just readying all of the reports I’ll need to submit when all of this is over with,” Gultorra replied.
“We’re alphabetizing them,” Tulnok added, sounding none too pleased to be doing so.
Clor dragged a hand down his face. “What is everyone else doing, then?” he clarified.
Finally, Gultorra looked up from his datapad. “Everyone has been getting a bit antsy from the inactivity,” he explained, as if Clor had somehow failed to realize that himself. “They’ve been driving me up a wall. The ones perfectly capable of handling higher level work have been sent to do just that. The rest have been informed that my desk lamp needs a new bulb and the first to bring me one gets glowing praise in one of my personnel reports.”
Clor was silent for a moment, waiting for one of the three of them to say that it was a joke. Once it was apparent that no such declaration was forthcoming, Clor pointed out, with resignation, “None of the lights on this ship even use bulbs. I’m fairly sure they haven’t in decades.”
Gultorra gestured carelessly to the next table over, where perhaps a dozen soldiers were gathered. They watched the bustling, but made no efforts to join in.
“Some of them knew from the beginning or just didn’t care,” Gultorra explained. “Some of them figured it out for themselves eventually. All of them have decided that it’s more fun to keep that information to themselves. I’m sure the rest will clue in eventually, but in the meantime I have relative peace and quiet without all of them hanging off my belt loops like needy kittens.”
Clor supposed he couldn’t really argue with that. Rather than try to, he simply sighed, “Carry on, then,” and made his way to a different table. Even if he didn’t intend to be in the mess hall for long, he didn’t want to get trampled by the soldiers still periodically trotting over to Gultorra and then trotting away again.
He couldn’t wait until they were all on the move again.
Hangar Deck, Gaitune-67
“Hey Molly, wait up!”
Joel came bounding across the hangar deck, a workout towel around his neck. His T-shirt was wet in a V-shape on his chest. Molly slowed her pace, allowing him to catch up.
“Careful!” she called. “You’re running in trainers and this hangar deck hasn’t been scrubbed for oil in several weeks.”
Joel slowed to a walk, looking around the floor where he was walking to make sure he wasn’t going to slip in something.
“I was wondering if we might talk later?”
Molly frowned. “Err, yeah sure.” She cocked her head to one side. “Have you just been talking to Sean?” She nodded in the direction of the base gym.
Joel shook his head. “No. Not recently. Why?”
“No reason.” She glanced back in the direction of an open pod. “Look, I’ve got to get going. I have a meeting with the university crowd before the end of the day.”
Joel bobbed his head, hanging his hands on the towel around his neck. “How is it going down there?”
Molly shrugged. “Good I suppose. It’s going to be close though… I don’t know if we can get enough votes in to make a difference in time.”
Joel put a hand on her upper arm. “Everything that you do helps. And you’re doing great. I believe in you.”
Molly smiled. “Thanks, Joel.” She started to move in the direction of her pod. “I’ll catch you later.”
“Yeah sure,” he called after her, waving.
She didn’t see him waving because she’d already gone.
Skóli Uppstigs Academy, Spire, Estaria
The pod touched down between two buildings on the university campus. Without waiting for anything to power down, Molly slipped out as soon as the door had opened enough. She scooped her bag from under the seat and was halfway across the quad before the door had closed again.
Hurriedly she entered the door on the far side of the quad and pushed through the old-fashioned double doors and into the corridor beyond.
She could hear voices at the far end coming from the conference room. The scent of freshly brewed mocha filled this wing of the building, too. It was clear that the team were planning to work late again tonight.
Dr. Augustine met her at the door to the meeting room. “Ahhh, Miss Bates, you’re here. You’ll be pleased to know that we got the second algorithm working and Douglas has managed to get a mailshot out to other educational institutions tomorrow morning. Also we have pizza on order. We ordered you a vegetarian supreme.”
Molly slipped her bag off a shoulder and immediately started assessing the project screen which kept track of the various tasks they had assigned. “That’s great. Thanks, Dr. Augustine. And well done, Douglas!” she called over to Prof Lakin. “That’s some good finagling you’ve done there to get these ideas out to other institutions.”
Dr. Augustine and Prof Lakin both appeared pleased with themselves.
“I’ll be giving a presentation there by the end of the week too,” Lakin added.
“Where’s Gareth Atkins?” she asked, making some adjustments to the board and deleting a few items that she’d managed to execute that afternoon.
“I’m not sure,” Dr. Augustine told her. “He might have stepped out for a minute. But he did want me to let you know that he’s managed to secure another candidate who wants to run using our system.”
Molly grinned. “That’s great news! Well done him.”
She continued to catch up with the changes on the board and downloaded a few notes onto her holo. Just then a familiar voice reached her ears. She felt suddenly disoriented. It was a voice she knew… but it was in the wrong place. She racked her brain trying to place it.
Laughter erupted on the other side of the room. She poked her head out from behind the holoscreen to see who else was in mission headquarters. She couldn’t see at first because some of the other professors were in the way. But then Dr. Lakin moved, revealing a very out of place, and unkempt-looking, Pieter.
“Pieter?” she gasped, her shock turning into a smile subconsciously. “What are you doing here?”
Everyone stopped laughing and stared at Molly as if she were speaking in tongues.
“I, err, just wanted to help,” Pieter explained. “But I was struggling to understand the concept of the liquid democracy. Thankfully Douglas here has been filling me in so I can be of more assistance with the campaign. Or campaigns, should I say.”
Molly frowned. “How did I miss that you are on this project?”
“I sent a message to Oz,” he explained quickly, “and he just told me where to show up.”
“Oh I see.” She stared blankly at Pieter for a few moments.
We’ll talk about this later, Oz.
You seemed busy and it was a minor detail that you didn’t need to be involved in.
Oh, I see. Less of the surprises though next time, if you please?
Of course.
“So what have you learnt about the liquid democracy?” She grinned at him, joining in the enthusiasm that the team had been showing him since he arrived.
“Well, only that it’s the most elegant solution to the problem we have right now. Not only does it integrate with the existing system where you have candidates voted into power, but this idea where every single voter gets to vote on every single issue, and it’s completely transparent… Pure genius!”
Dr. Augustine looked like he could hardly contain himself. “And it looks like our young friend here is going to be able to help us keep everything a hundred percent real-time. This means that if our candidates start using their seat to do things that their voters didn’t vote for, those votes can immediately be rescinded and put elsewhere. Instantaneously! It’s quite amazing really… and probably what we’ve been needing for quite some time now. If we implement enough of these seats in the Senate there would be no way that the-powers-that-be could remain pulling all the strings.”
Pieter grinned in agreement. “Whoever came up with this system needs a pat on the back.” He looked at Molly as if he were giving her the credit.
Molly shook her head. “Oh it wasn’t me,” she confessed quickly. “It was just another idea that I heard at the conference a few years ago at one of these think tank kind of environments. I only remembered it a few months ago when we realized that we were gonna have to change things on the planet quickly… What with our deadline and all.”
Pieter ruffled his hair and reorganized some of his holoscreens. “Well I think I can have the programming completed for the additional piece within a few hours. Especially now that Oz is here!”
Molly grinned. “Oh, I see. You guys only wanted me here so that Oz could help you work on the programming. Not because you actually need me to have an input.”
Professor Lakin made a feeble attempt at making her feel useful and needed.
She laughed and waved a hand. “No no. It’s okay. I get it…” She finished downloading her task list from the board and setup on the desk in the corner. “Just let me know when the pizza gets here!” she called over to them.
Chapter 3
Senate House, Spire, Estaria
The seats around the table were all filled. The other senators still eyed Vero’s substitute as if they weren’t entirely sure what to make of him. Even so, just as always, no one broached the topic. Raychel came close, glancing at him lingeringly and opening her mouth, only to snap it closed once again as the Speaker of the House thumped his cane against the floor to get everyone’s attention.
“Shall we get started?” he asked, and a murmur of general assent went around the table. He nodded once. “Then let’s begin.”
The Speaker stood up to address the room, both hands clasped on top of his cane. “This is our final day to come to a decision on whether or not we should recall the fleet. It’s our final day not for political reasons, but because if we don’t come to a decision today, then we will run out of time to do so at all. So please, show good judgment.” He gave the entire table a meaningful look. “Who would like to get us started?”
Zenne and Bel began speaking almost simultaneously, before Zenne sighed as if he was truly the most aggrieved and motioned for her to carry on.
Ekks listened to their debate in an absentminded sort of way, his elbows on the table and his fingers tented in front of his mouth. Every so often he reached for his mocha, but he never spoke up. He offered no contribution of his own. He offered no sign that he was paying attention at all until Zenne asked pointedly, “Anything you’d like to add, Commander? I’m sure we’re all dying to hear from you.”
The sarcasm wasn’t lost on him. Ekks waved him off with a flippant flick of his wrist, one shoulder rising in a halfhearted shrug. He sipped his mocha and offered no other response.
Zenne’s eyes narrowed slightly, and Bel offered Raychel a bemused look. Raychel simply shrugged broadly in reply, just as bewildered herself.
“Are you sure about that?” Zenne asked slowly, as if he was expecting it to be some sort of trap. “Nothing to say? Nothing at all?”
Ekks’s eyebrows rose and he repeated his previous gesture, albeit a bit more forcefully this time, like a parent wondering why he needed to repeat himself.
The Speaker dropped back down into his seat. “Commander,” he sighed, “for months now you’ve done little else but advocate for launching the fleet and plunging us into war. This vote could very well undo all of your efforts. Do you really expect us to believe that you have nothing to say on the matter?”
Ekks took a drawn out sip from his cup. As he lowered it back to the table, he stated simply, “I have nothing to say on the matter. You may continue.”
The murmuring that spread throughout the room seemed distinctly uneasy after that, and the Speaker continued to eye Ekks skeptically for a moment. Slowly, he turned his attention back to the rest of the table.
“Then the vote can go ahead as planned, I suppose,” he declared, pushing himself to his feet once again. “The Senate will reconvene after the votes have been tallied.”
Everyone paused after that, waiting. Once it was apparent that no one was going to add any last-minute details or ask any questions, one by one they began to put their things away. Slowly, they got to their feet and bustled towards the door.
Ekks watched them leave with halfhearted interest, one hand curled around his lukewarm mocha cup. He lifted it and tipped his head back as he drained the last dregs from the cup.
The room was nearly empty when Zenne came to a halt beside Ekks’s chair, shifting to lean one hip casually against the table beside Ekks’s elbow.
“I suppose it’s no use speculating, but it looks to me like the vote is going to be for the fleet to stand down,” Zenne observed. He noticed that Ekks was hardly even looking at him, but he didn’t seem to care much about the Commander’s disinterest.
To think, Ekks had assumed he might get some peace and quiet without Vero around to bark at him like a junkyard dog.
“But I suppose it makes sense,” Zenne mused, carrying on despite Ekks’s lack of contribution. “Seats are opening up elsewhere. There’s a fair bit of new blood in the system.”
“The chips will fall where they may,” Ekks replied. “If I can’t play poker with them, then I’m not inclined to give them much thought.”
Zenne was silent for a long moment, eyeing Ekks with open suspicion. Finally, he sighed and shook his head, before he pushed away from the table.
“Have a good evening, Richard,” he offered, before he turned and made his way towards the door.
Only once he was alone in the room did Ekks finally get to his feet. He glanced around the empty table, straightened his jacket, and headed for the door.
Sean and Karina’s Quarters, Gaitune-67
Karina was in the bedroom sorting clean laundry when Sean came in. “Hey, you!” She smiled at him brightly. “How’s it going?”
Sean started undoing his gun belt. “Yeah, it’s going,” he confirmed, exhaling deeply as the heavy appendage dropped away from his cyborg-enhanced body. “The Ekks thing is done for the day, so at least that’s over with, and Brock and Crash are making progress in the maintenance schedule.” He shook his head, noticing some oil on his shirt. “And then it all begins again tomorrow. It’s such a pain in the ass having to go and see him every single freaking day.”
“Crash? Or Brock?”
“No… Ekks. The commander of the space fleet.”
“Ohhh,” Karina mouthed slowly. She knew exactly who he was talking about, but she wanted to tease him. Clearly it wasn’t registering with him.
Sean wiped his hands over his face.
“But it’s kind of amusing, don’t you think?” Karina persisted. “Pushing your agenda onto a big-ass military dude.”
Sean snorted lightly and sat down on the bed to undo his boots. “Yeah. You can tell that Molly is getting fed up with it, though. And it looks like he’s managed to put a hit on someone without us knowing about it, until after the fact. We’ll need to think more carefully about how we question him tomorrow.”
Karina smiled to herself as she turned and put some folded shirts away into the cupboard. “I just find it interesting how you changed your tune about that particular skill.” She flashed him her thousand-watt smile over her shoulder to ease any perceived jibe and prevent him from getting defensive.
“Hey look, I was only worried because she might be using it at the expense of proper leadership. Imagine the problems that would cause if she got on board something like the ArchAngel. It was just very dangerous.”
“And now you can use it to your tactical advantage…” she added, pointedly.
“Exactly,” he confirmed, without a hint of acknowledgment about the hypocrisy of the situation.
Karina’s face dropped as if she were contemplating something serious. “How does Molly feel about it all?”
Sean quietly closed the drawer he had been putting his socks away in. “I don’t know. I think she thinks that it’s a good thing. And now she’s mostly just bored, having to go and see the pillock every day. But, you have a point. In a lot of ways in the beginning she was struggling because of the morality of it.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well she’s effectively stopping the head of the space military from doing what he was elected to do.”
“But wasn’t he put into power by the Northern Clan? So he wasn’t truly elected?” Karina clarified. Though she’d been involved in the missions, she was still trying to get her head around all the elements in play in the situation they were managing now.
“I think that’s how she gets her head around it,” Sean agreed. “But the principle bothers her. I mean imagine being able to tell a leader of a supposed democracy what to do or manipulate him in some way to do what suits you what you want… And all of a sudden you’ve no longer got a democracy anymore. I think she’s just worried about taking that away from the people.”
“But she is saving them?”
“She is. But I don’t think that’s the point. And I’m sure that many a bad decision has been made in this regard and justified as being for the greater good.” He sighed, sitting down on the end of the bed again. “I don’t know, I think she’s also worried that she might be making the wrong decision. The stakes are the highest they could possibly be. And what if Ekks is right?”
“You think he might be?”
Sean shook his head, his gaze fixed idly on the floor now. “Well it wouldn’t be the first time that I disagreed with her strategically. And where I come from we tend to shoot first and ask questions later. Or at least be in a position to shoot first and dominate the enemy.”
“But we’re assuming that these ARs aren’t our enemy…”
Sean’s expression looked as though he were crestfallen. He rolled his lips and nodded quietly for a few moments. “And that’s one hell of a gamble…”
Karina sat down next to Sean on the bed and rested her head on his shoulder. “Well I don’t envy her, not one little bit.”
Safe House, Gaitune-67
Molly was exhausted as she ambled down the corridor to her old conference room where she had arranged to meet Paige and Maya.
“I can’t wait to tell her—” Paige was saying as Molly came in through the door.
“Tell her what?” Molly asked, smiling.
Paige looked shocked, as if caught red-handed doing something she shouldn’t. She shuffled some open holos out of the way and stood up in surprise. “Looks like we finally got some good news!” She beamed.
Maya handed Paige an open holo screen full of numbers. “Go on. Tell her.”
Molly dumped her gear on the nearest chair and sat down in the one next to it. “Tell me what? Have you got the latest poll data in?”
Paige and Maya nodded in synch. Paige took the lead. “We have! And finally it’s looking like we are in with a chance. We’re neck and neck with the two main parties. And with enough voting collateral we may just have a chance to sway the Senate decision.”
Molly beamed, despite the work-weariness around her eyes. “Well that is great news,” she agreed. “Plus with Pieter’s adjustment that he’ll be implementing in the next day or so, we might actually be in with a chance of turning this all around. Well done, ladies!”
Paige glanced sideways towards Maya. “I guess this means we have cause to celebrate?”
Maya nodded approvingly. “I’d say so.”
Molly glanced up from studying the numbers on the holo Maya had handed her. “It’s not over yet, but you two should definitely go and relax and then get some rest. Something tells me we’ve got a few more big days to go yet.”
“Come have a martini with us,” Paige suggested gently, noticing Molly had holo-face from working too hard.
“Yeah, I just have a few more things to finish off, and then Joel wanted to talk to me. So if I get done before you go to bed, I’ll head over. You’ll be in the common area, yeah?”
Maya nodded. “Yep, we’ll be there. We’ll even save you a martini or two.”
Molly thanked them, and Paige and Maya closed up their holos, leaving Molly alone to finish up.
Chapter 4
Bates’s Office, Special Task Force Offices, Undisclosed Location, Estaria
Bates’s stylus was a blur as it moved, reordering files on one side of her holoconsole, signing documents in the middle, and tweaking her schedule and her calendar on the other side of the screen. It was no busier than any other day, but it was a full day’s work for at least three people all the same.
And then, in the blink of an eye, the holoconsole’s screen went dark, right before the console closed itself. Bates blinked at the spot where it had been just a moment before. Before she could help it, she reached up to wave her hand through the spot it had been, despite the fact that it was very clearly no longer there. She was very glad there was no one in the room with her.
Of course, that still left the fact that a good portion of a day’s work had just disappeared without a trace and without any warning. She reached halfway towards her communicator to call a repair technician in, only to pause and instead try to activate her wrist holo. As if it didn’t even exist, it failed to make an appearance. So it wasn’t just a problem with her holoconsole.
With a sigh, she got to her feet. She left her office and walked the short distance down the hall to the conference room, where a meeting was supposed to be going on.
Instead, once she poked her head into the room, she found a table full of very confused men and women, all murmuring and gesturing towards where the holoscreen was supposed to be.
The agent hosting the meeting cleared her throat once she noticed Bates there.
“Ah—my apologies if you need us for anything, Director, but—”
“Nothing like that,” Bates assured her. “I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t the only one having trouble. My holoconsole just shut itself down without warning and my wrist holo won’t even start.”
Spurred on by that announcement, everyone around the table started trying to open their holoconsoles and wrist holos, only for nothing to happen. A few of them fizzed to life for a few seconds, only to shut down again an instant later.
“Is it a problem with our connection to the network?” someone wondered cautiously.
“But then wouldn’t that just mean our connection would be slow?” someone else replied. “This isn’t slow, this just isn’t there.”
She left the conference room, leaving them to try to salvage their meeting without any of their materials. She headed down the steps into the bullpen to try and figure out how widespread the problem was.
* * *
Rhodez stared at his holoconsole. He tapped the keys. He prodded it with his stylus. It failed to react, completely frozen. He tried to open the settings, but even that had no effect.
With a discontented sigh, he shut it down and tried to reboot it.
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” he grumbled to himself when it refused to restart. “Knew I should have replaced it weeks ago.” He heaved his weight back into his chair so it rolled a few inches away from his desk, and then he slid down with his arms crossed. If anyone else had been in the office with him, he would have furiously denied that he was sulking.
He straightened up when he heard a drawn out, slightly pitiful, “Noooo, no no no,” from the next console over. It trailed off into some rather dismally colorful swearing.
Pushing with his legs, Rhodez wheeled his console chair backwards and a few feet to the left so he could look into Cleavon’s console area.
“Problems?” he asked, grabbing onto the partition to bring his chair to a halt.
Cleavon gestured wordlessly to his holoconsole.
“Oh,” Rhodez sighed. “You, too?”
Over at the other side of the open-plan office, Joshua barked, “Oh, what the hell!” and it was followed shortly after by Alisha’s dismayed, “No, come back!”
“Everyone else, too,” Cleavon observed glumly.
“I guess I’ll go check with the Director,” Rhodez offered, getting to his feet. He shoved his chair back into its place, not watching long enough to see where it stopped before he headed towards the main walkway through the open-plan office.
Director Bates was already on the floor and heading in his direction. Rhodez jerked to a halt mid-step, before he fell into an at-ease stance.
“Director,” he greeted. “I was just going to talk to you.”
Bates raised one eyebrow. Cleavon, Joshua, and Alisha were still shouting back and forth from their consoles to each other, oblivious to the Director’s presence. By that point, several other people in the office, used to being able to talk to each other at the flick of a button, had joined in too.
“I take it you’re all having the same holo trouble,” Bates observed wryly.
Rhodez scowled at a point on the wall. “So much for it being an easy fix,” he grumbled, mostly to himself. “What do we do?”
Bates was quiet for a moment as she gave the question some thought. “For now we wait,” she decided. “So far, we have no proof that it’s not just a server problem, or an issue on the network provider’s end. If we’re still offline by the end of the day, then I’ll start making some calls to see how we fix this.”
Rhodez nodded slowly. “Understood, Director. And…until then?” He glanced over his shoulder as he asked, back towards his friend. “Cleavon seems sort of heartbroken, but other than that everyone just seems kind of put out.”
Bates patted his shoulder. “I’ll leave calming them down in your very capable hands,” she told him. Before he could object, she executed a picture-perfect about-face, right back the way she had just come from. She left Rhodez pouting in her wake.
He watched her leave for a moment, silently willing her to come back. No such thing happened. Finally, he heaved a sigh, clapped his hands once and rubbed them together, and mustered up an overly enthusiastic, “Alright, up to me. My favorite thing.”
He turned and headed back towards the row of offices. Rather than waste time addressing everyone one at a time, he whistled once, as loudly and as sharply as he could manage. The scattered complaining came to an abrupt halt, and slowly people began to poke their heads up over the partitions between their console units.
“This problem isn’t unique to us,” Rhodez stated plainly. “It looks like the entire operation has no network access right now. Alright? So the higher ups are aware and plans on how to fix it are in the works. Got it?”
There was a murmur of surly assent, and he was quiet for a moment longer in case anyone absolutely had to make some sort of complaint. When no one spoke up, he tacked on, “Right, well. We all know how to do hardcopy work, so let’s get to it.”
A series of exasperated groans followed him as he stepped back into his console. It was almost a little satisfying.
Mercurial Spirits, Spire, Estaria
“She makes the pass. It looks like she’s in the clear—no! Intercepted by—”
Whatever the game’s announcer was going to say would forever remain a mystery, as all three of the bar’s holoscreens suddenly went blank. A second later, they deactivated entirely, one after the other.
A cry of outrage began to rise up throughout the bar, only to fall meekly silent as one of the two bartenders picked up a mop. Brandishing it over her head like a weapon, she threatened, “I will use this!”
As she stared the patrons down to make sure no one got too unruly, her coworker vaulted over the bar to check on the nearest holoscreen. “Everything’s still plugged in,” he reported after a minute. “We didn’t have a power flicker or anything.” His eyebrows arched as his expression turned cheeky, just before he decided, “You hold down the fort here. I’m going to pop over to the cafe next door and see if they’re having the same problem.”
His coworker scowled at him, but since she didn’t try to menace him with a mop, he took that as agreement. Lucky for him, as the patrons were starting to get impatient. Just as he reached the door, he heard his coworker sighing. “Look, if you all stop your bitching, then the next round is on me.”
He heaved a sigh of relief once he was standing out on the sidewalk, though it was rather short-lived. He didn’t even need to step into the cafe to know that they were having the same problem. It was filled with people all fussing fruitlessly with their gadgets. A man was arguing with a barista and gesturing to where a wrist holo projection should have been.
Rather than interrupting and making things worse, he decided that was evidence enough and stepped back into the bar.
“It’s not just here,” he announced, cutting off whatever his coworker had been in the middle of shouting at a patron. “From the looks of it, no one has holo network service.”
“So someone call the service provider,” one of the patrons whined, slumped dramatically over his table. “This was supposed to be the game of the season.”
“You can catch the highlights tomorrow,” the mop-wielding bartender informed him, pointing the end of her mop at him like a saber.
There was some scattered grumbling throughout the bar, and those who had only been there for the game paid their tabs and left. Those who were fine with simply talking to the other patrons and those who really just wanted a free drink stayed behind. Miraculously, no riots broke out, even if a few more people still needed to be menaced with the mop before they decided to simply enjoy their drinks without making any trouble.
Hopefully it was just a brief glitch. That seemed the most likely case. And soon enough, both the bartenders and the patrons put it out of their thoughts, save for the absence of the background noise of the holoscreens.
Professor Kurns’s Office, Skóli Uppstigs Academy, Spire, Estaria
It was late in the evening and Giles had been working all night continuing his work on deciphering the signal they had gathered on their encounter with the ARs nearly three months ago.
But now, with no one else around, he saw his opportunity to indulge himself in the privacy of his own office. He crept over to the door and looked up and down the corridor.
Nothing.
Not a soul in sight.
He giggled lightly to himself and closed the door quietly, as if someone nearby might actually be able to hear it if he didn’t.
Then, quietly and excitedly he tiptoed back to his desk and tapped a search into his holo. Locating the secret file, he made the screen big enough for him to see it easily, and sighed, his eyes caressing it longingly.
Then he stood bolt upright at his desk, as if about to give a presentation.
He cleared his throat.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome. And thank you. It is a great honor to accept such a prestigious prize. Firstly I’d like to thank my research team and the university. Secondly I’d like to thank my parents for allowing me to pursue the route of space archaeology when it wasn’t really a serious subject.”
He waved his hands, muttering… Wait for the laughter to die down.
“And thirdly I’d like to thank all of you for being here to help me celebrate this momentous day. When I first discovered the talismans, it was—”
The office lights flickered, and then something happened to his holo. The screen he was reading off went blank.
He tapped it.
Nothing.
He tapped it again.
No response.
Very strange, he thought.
He tried to connect a call with on-site security. “Hey, have you got any issues…” he started to say. The line was dead. Nothing. Not even a dial tone.
He scratched his head, then got up out of his chair and headed out of his office and down the dimly lit corridors to see if anyone else was having the same problem.
If anyone else was here this late in the night...
Senate House, Spire, Estaria
It was quite an opportunity, Ekks mused to himself.
An ambition that had been absent before began to bubble in his chest.
The Speaker of the House sounded exasperated even before the meeting truly began. “Alright, yes, I understand, this is all very sudden, but we must all calm down to begin the meeting.” The chattering across the table that spread throughout the entire conference room failed to get any quieter.
There was a metallic screech as the Speaker pushed his chair back and got to his feet. At last attention began to turn to him. He thumped the end of his cane against the side of the table with enough force that the table rattled. “I called for order,” he barked. “This is the Senate House, not a schoolhouse.”
The quiet that settled over the room seemed almost sheepish. With a sigh, the Speaker dropped back into his seat. “Very good.” He folded his hands over the handle of his cane. “The vote on whether or not we recall the fleet is being postponed. Circumstances have changed rather dramatically in the last few hours.”
A beautiful opportunity.
“The only logical choice is to have the fleet stay the course,” Ekks interjected, cutting off whatever the Speaker was going to say next. The Speaker settled him with an incredulous look, as if he had just been told his stepsister was actually a pile of weasels in a trench coat.
“Excuse me?” the Speaker managed once he gathered his composure again.
“You didn’t seem to care about that at all less than a day ago!” Raychel burst out. Though her face reddened afterwards, she didn’t try to retract her sentence.
“I wanted to see how things would play out,” Ekks explained calmly, folding his hands neatly on top of the table. “Clearly, that was a mistake on my part, if the lot of you are simply going to keep flinching whenever the time comes to actually make a hard call.” He eyed her shrewdly for a second, and she shrank back into her seat. Slowly, Ekks looked at the others around the table.
“Tell me,” he began after a moment. “Why did any of you choose to be senators if the idea of truly doing anything is so completely foreign to you?”
“The fact that we aren’t eager to plunge the system into an unnecessary war doesn’t mean we’re unwilling to act,” Bel argued, though she already sounded resigned. No one said anything after her. They instead waited for Ekks to make his argument.
His eyes narrowed as he centered his focus on Bel like a laser. “Who’s to say any of this is unnecessary?” he asked, though he left no time for anyone to actually answer his question. “There are ships in the outer system, and now the holo network is blacking out all across the planet. Do you honestly think that’s a coincidence?”
The others were silent.
“It seems more likely to me,” he continued, calmer now, “that this network blackout is some sort of attack by the intruders. Likely just the first part of a larger attack. And none of you are willing to do what is necessary to keep the system safe.” He scoffed. “Pitiful.”
“Commander—” the Speaker tried to interrupt.
“I’m declaring martial law,” Ekks stated simply, as if it was simply any other day of the week. “It seems like it’s the only option, if anyone actually wants anything to happen. I would say the current situation is pressing enough to justify it.”
The silence was deafening. Ekks didn’t wait for any of them to come back to their senses after that. He got to his feet, straightening his jacket, and breezed out of the room.
He had some preparations to make, after all.
Richard Ekks’s Office, Spire, Estaria
The Spire’s connection to the holo network had always been more reinforced than most other places. Ekks had never put much thought into it before—it had simply been a fact of life, like air or water—but as his office door closed behind him, he found he was glad for it. Though the connection was unstable, his holoconsole still worked when he tried to open it.
At least for the time being. Though it took three times as long as it normally would, his call to Fleet Admiral Boys still managed to connect.
The image was pixelated at first, colors shifting across the screen the only sign that Boys was moving.
“—mm-mander. To-oo what do—owe the—easure?”
The connection was unstable enough at first that he could scarcely hear a word that Boys said, but after a few seconds it stabilized.
“Admiral,” Ekks greeted. “The situation back here on Estaria has become…complicated,” he stated delicately. “I’ve declared martial law until the situation returns to normal.”
Boys’s eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. “Are you sure you’re not jumping the gun a bit, Commander?” he asked. Though he sounded good-natured, it was clear enough that the levity in his tone was forced.
“I like to think not,” Ekks returned pleasantly. “And that’s the part that matters, isn’t it?”
Boys stared back at him stonily.
“The original plan is still in effect,” Ekks explained, uncaring for the open distaste Boys regarded him with. “Maintain your course towards the ships in the outer system. Is that clear, Admiral?”
“Perfectly clear, sir,” Boys replied stiffly. “Will that be all?”
Ekks ended the call as his answer.
Aboard The Corona, Approaching the Sarkian Outer System
Boys sighed and dragged a hand over his hair, sagging back in his seat. There was nothing to be done, though. His own opinion on the matter was worth rather little in that moment. A few members of the bridge crew peered at him in bemused concern.
Rather than dwell on it, Boys instead picked up his communicator and patched it into the ship-wide intercom.
“This is Admiral Boys speaking. Stay on course.”
Chapter 5
Aboard The Hierophant
It all seemed too quiet. Too calm. By all accounts, the entire space fleet was in the middle of intercept protocols, and yet it was dull.
It was almost an insult to think about it.
Captain Grouthe’s thoughts swam in circles along a similar track as he paced back and forth across The Hierophant’s bridge.
It had been exciting at first.
The chaos as everyone worked to scramble the fleet in a hurry.
The tension as the ships trekked across the solar system.
The ships in the Outer System getting larger and more present on ship sensors as the fleet got closer and closer.
But they had…stalled out, sitting idle while they were so close.
Grouthe came to a halt behind one of the navigator’s chairs, peering over his shoulder at the sensor readings. He drummed his fingers impatiently on the back of the navigator’s seat. If the navigator objected to Grouthe’s proximity, he made no comment on it. Instead, he simply observed mildly, “Waiting for the other shoe to drop, Captain?”
Grouthe huffed out a laugh and stepped back, away from the navigator’s chair. “Indefinitely, it seems,” he answered lightly. “It almost seems like it might be worth it if the invasion force noticed us, just to shake things up.”
The navigator hummed in acknowledgment, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, and Grouthe continued pacing.
“Could try pulling an aileron roll,” the pilot offered dryly, glancing over his shoulder. “I mean, we’d probably hit at least three other ships, but at least it would give us something to focus on.”
“Don’t tempt me,” Grouthe returned wryly. “They would take the damage out of my pay, and I don’t make near enough money for that.”
“Oh, well, if that’s your only objection…” The pilot trailed off, rolling his eyes good-naturedly before he turned back around.
“Watch your tone, Flight Lieutenant,” Grouthe cautioned, though there was no heat behind his tone, and the pilot offered no response.
No one else felt a need to comment on Grouthe’s restlessness, and he kept his thoughts to himself after that. After all, a well-functioning crew was a calm crew. There was no need for him to stress his crew out when he needed them at their best.
A bit hypocritical, perhaps, he reflected to himself as he kept pacing. Considering he was as wound up and tense as a hemophiliac in a razor blade factory.
Something to break the monotony had to happen eventually, though. Things never stayed static for too long.
“Captain? We’re being hailed by The Corona. Should I patch it to your holocomm?”
Yanked out of his thoughts, Grouthe glanced at the communications officer and nodded once, just briefly dipping his chin towards his chest. “Patch it through.”
He opened his wrist holo.
“This is Captain Grouthe of The Hierophant,” he greeted blandly. “Has someone finally decided to tell us what we’re actually doing, General?”
Boys sighed slowly. “Grouthe, all of us are getting antsy. I do not need the attitude. It’s not going to help matters.”
Grouthe cleared his throat. “My apologies, General,” he offered. “How can I help you?”
“As you suspect, we finally have our orders,” Boys confirmed. “We’re to hold our course. Considering that, we likely have a day and a half at most before we’re within range of the invading fleet.”
Grouthe’s eyebrows rose, regardless of the fact that Boys wasn’t actually present to see it. “Not quite the decision I was expecting,” he acknowledged easily enough. “I was under the impression the Senate was beginning to waver on the choice to send us out here.”
Boys paused for a moment before he replied carefully, “Apparently there’s something of an emergency back home.” He didn’t sound entirely satisfied with that statement. “I’m not sure of the specifics, but whatever it is, it evidently has everyone spooked enough that no one in the Senate balked at the idea of martial law.”
Grouthe whistled, low and impressed. “Sounds like things have gotten exciting since we all left home. I’m almost sad to miss it.”
“Yes, well,” Boys sighed, dismissive and distant, “I’m sure they’ll keep us in the loop.” He didn’t agree with Grouthe’s attitude, that much was clear, but he was too professional to directly bring his personal feelings up. A sad, sorry stick in the mud, but Grouthe supposed that meant he was ideal for his job.
“Is there anything else, sir?” Grouthe wondered, once again beginning to pace across the bridge, back and forth like a metronome.
“That will be all,” Boys replied, and he simply hung up. Grouthe closed his holo, unbothered by the abrupt dismissal.
“Steady on, boys,” he reported to the rest of the bridge crew after a few moments, pausing his pacing as he said it only for a second before he resumed his repetitive meandering. His words were light, as if he was simply reporting on the weather. “We haven’t seen the last of all of this, and it seems everyone’s hit some turbulence back home.”
At last, he returned to his seat at the center of the bridge. “This should all be interesting by the end,” he mused, more to himself than to anyone else on the bridge. “More than I expected it to be, at any rate.” The rest of the bridge crew seemed to pay him only a token amount of attention. They were accustomed to him thinking out loud.
“Any special orders?” the pilot asked after a moment, as the navigators worked on adjusting the course.
Grouthe needed to think for only a second before he turned his attention to the communications officer. “Let the crew in the main battery know that they should keep the cannon warmed up.”
“Do you think we’ll be needing it?” the communications officer asked carefully, even as he was already putting the message together to send it.
“I suppose we’ll know soon enough, won’t we?” was all Grouthe said in reply.
News Broadcast, Belladonne Square, Estaria
The manual camera, compared to a holocamera, was unwieldy. Positively minuscule compared to a lot of antiques, but enormous and cumbersome compared to the holocameras that had become so popular. It was so much easier to be a crew of one when no one needed to actually carry the camera. The movements weren’t nearly as smooth as with a holocamera, as the cameraman panned in after the anchor.
The cameraman made no complaint, though, and the anchor was as professional as ever.
“Here we are in Belladonne Square,” she reported, gesturing behind her. “Usually bright enough to be mistaken for daylight even in the middle of the night, now only those businesses with the foresight to have physical backups for their screens are still advertising. For businesses that had holo-tech signs, it’s as if they’ve become invisible.”
She sidestepped in a half-circle, her cameraman following her movements, until a physical screen was behind her, set up at a post office. “Even more pressing than that,” she carried on, gesturing to the screen with one hand, “the holo network blackouts have become so widespread that the Senate has declared a state of emergency.”
The screen was just an endlessly scrolling message about said state of emergency.
“While just a few years ago it was common for holo-tech to be just an accent piece in a house, by now it’s so ubiquitous that entire households have gone dark,” she explained, calm and to the point. “While wristholos, holoscreens, and holoconsoles are just the most obvious sources, it’s no longer uncommon for every interface in a household or business to be a holo-interface.”
Her tone took on a note of urgency as she added, “If you know of any friends, family, or neighbors who have gone dark because of the holo network blackout, we all urge you to extend a hand and offer whatever help you can. In the meantime, all of us here at IQ News will keep you updated on any changes with the network and the spread of the blackout. This has been Mercy Hazrad of IQ News.”
The screen cut to the scrolling emergency banner that had been visible on the post office’s screen after that.
Back in Belladonne Square, as the cameraman lowered the camera, Mercy dragged a hand through her hair. “Not sure how much good we’re doing when a solid forty percent of the population has gone dark,” she grumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers.
“At least we’re letting people know they’ll need to lend a helping hand,” her cameraman replied, checking over the camera absentmindedly.
Mercy wiped her hand down her face, carefully avoiding smudging her eye makeup. “There is that,” she conceded, before she steeled herself and straightened back up. She started walking at a purposeful pace, her heels clicking against the sidewalk. “Come on. We need to get back to the car and get moving. We’re IQ’s only team that’s actually qualified for manual camerawork, and we need to hit two more locations tonight.”
Base Conference Room, Gaitune-67
Maya’s brows furrowed together in concern as the broadcast cut to the emergency message. Paige glanced over her shoulder, pausing in the middle of organizing a cabinet of datapads. The need to have organized hardcopies of everything had been made very apparent recently.
“Something wrong?” Paige asked, setting a datapad down on top of the cabinet and turning around to lean against the back of Maya’s seat.
Maya flapped a hand at the broadcast. “More reports of Estaria going dark,” she stated simply. “No one really seems to know what to do about it.”
“Wonderful timing,” Paige grumbled, sagging more heavily against the back of Maya’s chair, until it creaked. “First the media sends everyone into a panic, now people don’t even have access to that.”
“Convenient timing, don’t you think?” Maya wondered, craning her neck just enough to look back at Paige. “I mean, these can’t be isolated events. They have to be related to each other. They have to be.”
Paige hummed thoughtfully for a moment, rocking back and forth on her heels and rocking Maya’s chair in turn. “It does seem pretty unlikely,” she agreed slowly.
Maya sighed and offered an unenthusiastic nod in agreement. “It would be easier if they’re related, though,” she grumbled. “Deal with one problem and the other one goes away, too. Like magic.”
“When is anything ever that easy?” Paige asked wryly, finally tumbling herself down into the chair beside Maya’s. “If something doesn’t require a twelve-step plan at minimum, I am automatically suspicious.”
Maya elbowed her in the shoulder, sending their chairs very slowly wheeling away from each other. “Don’t jinx it,” she scolded. There was no real ire behind her words or the scowl on her face.
It didn’t take long for the mood to grow somber once again.
They returned to working in silence, until finally Maya slumped back in her chair and slid down in it until she was nearly under the table. “This sucks,” she decided eloquently, using her feet to turn her chair around so she didn’t need to see the emergency message anymore. Neither of them wanted to actually turn the news off in case something changed.
Paige snorted lightly and glanced up at Maya briefly before turning her attention back to her holoscreen. They still had analysis to get through if they were going to find a solution…
Just then the rest of the team started arriving.
“We’re going to have to pick this up after the team meeting,” Paige called over to Maya finally. Maya nodded and packed up the screens she had spread out everywhere, and started explaining to Brock what they’d discovered thus far.
“Sounds like you’ll be staying here when we go off to stop an all-out space battle,” he mused. “I don’t know which of us has it worse off…”
Base Conference Room, Gaitune-67
Molly rubbed one eye as she tried to focus on the holoscreen in front of her.
It’s just not clear what’s happening. I’m still trying to collate the data. It seems that there are sporadic blackouts all over Spire.
Is it isolated to Spire?
It’s too early to tell. I’m monitoring all kinds of channels to see if anyone else is reporting it elsewhere on the planet.
Okay. Keep running diagnostics. There have got to be answers somewhere.
Molly sat back in her chair, allowing her eyes a moment to defocus and rest.
Man, I could murder a mocha now.
Before Oz had the chance to protest about what it would do to their system, the door to the conference room slid open and heavy boots entered the room behind her. “Hey, I got here as soon as I could.”
Molly turned to see Joel come in and take a place at the conference room table a couple of seats down from her. “Thanks for coming so quickly. I’m guessing you were asleep?” she ventured, sympathetically.
“Yeah just, I think… But what about you? Have you even been to bed yet?”
She shook her head, absently, already moving her thoughts to the next thing. “No… not yet.”
Joel gave her a sympathetic look. Before he was able to carry on with that line of questioning or even make sure that she was okay, she had moved back into mission-mode.
“It looks like the holo network is going dark in places,” she explained. With a tap on a holoscreen she brought up a screen on the main projector in the center of the table. It was a heat map with patches here and there which had gone dark. “What you’re looking at is Oz’s best guess at where we’ve lost network. The red areas are places where he is yet to gather enough data to be able to say one way or another. The black areas are where we have confirmed reports of the holo network being down.”
Joel leaned forward, his arms on the table. “And how do we know that these places are down if there is no holo connectivity? People can’t just report it in, can they?”
Molly smiled and wagged finger at him playfully. “Clearly we didn’t make you operations lead for nothing,” she teased. “You’re right though. Oz has managed to ping those areas and has confirmed the network is just… down.”
Joel rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Do we know why?”
“Not yet.”
“Think it’s got anything to do with the Northern Clan?”
“Almost certainly. And the timing couldn’t be worse.”
“How so?”
“Well best-case scenario it’s designed to stop people from voting.”
“And we haven’t seen that in history before,” he chuffed sarcastically. “And worst case?”
Oz inserted himself into the conversation over the conference room intercom. “There is an 89% probability that Ekks will use this to declare martial law.”
Molly glanced at Joel grimly. “We’ve seen before in other cultures in other situations. It’s well documented. Especially with the kind of power and economic imbalance that they have on Estaria now. I think 89% is pitching low.”
Joel was already looking tired and disheveled having been unceremoniously raised from his slumber. But as Molly explained the severity of the situation to him, he visibly paled even more.
“But isn’t he still under your thrall? Ekks, I mean.”
Molly rolled her lips. “He should be. I wish I could tell you definitively yes… Joel I’m...scared.”
Joel started to move towards her to put his arm around her.
Just then, the door whooshed open again, and this time Paige appeared, pulling their attention. Her face was taut with tension. “Bad news, folks. Looks like Ekks is becoming immune to whatever it is you’ve been doing to him… or the instructions weren’t specific enough.”
She paused briefly to take a breath. “He’s just declared martial law.”
Molly’s head fell into her hands. “Fuck!”
Joel took a moment to react, slamming his fist on the table in frustration. A second later it was as if his frustration had transformed into determination. He sprang to his feet. “Well, what are we waiting for? We need to get back down there and change his mind. Oz, prepare a pod.”
He looked to Molly, to see her still hiding her face in her hands. Slowly she raised her eyes, dropping her hands to the table. “Hang on, let’s think this through for a moment. I’m not sure but I’ve got a very strong feeling that his first act will be to cancel the vote. In which case no matter what we do down there, we don’t have a say in what happens next.”
“In which case,” Oz piped up over the intercom, “those ships are going to engage the first opportunity they have.”
Molly glanced at Joel and then Paige. “He’s right. Oz? How far out are the Estarian ships from the Zhyn blockade?”
“Less than twenty-four hours,” Oz reported.
Molly turned back to Joel decisively. “Well then there isn’t time for talk. We’ve got to get out there and turn them back. Before they pick a fight with the Zhyn, and therefore the Federation.”
“Ok—I’ll make the arrangements,” Joel confirmed, barely taking even a fraction of a second to jump on board with her plan. “Oz—alert all personnel as to what is happening. Have them meet back here in the base conference room in forty minutes. Tell them to start getting mission-ready.”
“Acknowledged,” Oz responded over the intercom.
Joel hurried out of the conference room, the sound of his boots rapidly disappearing down the corridor. Paige glanced at Molly. “Anything I can do right now?”
Molly thought for a moment and then pulled up her holoscreen and pointed to the map that was already on the main projector. “I need to attend to a few things, but if you could work with Oz and try and figure out what’s going on and what is causing this, that would be massively helpful.”
Paige sat down enthusiastically. “No problem, boss! I’m all over it.”
Molly smiled at her friend and touched her on her forearm. “I don’t know how any of us would survive without you.”
Paige grinned playfully. “Well for a start you’d have to order your own pizza, and goodness knows what kind of cocktail crap you’d be drinking.”
Molly chuckled as she stood up. “You know, you’re absolutely right.” And with that she waved and then hurried out of the door to attend to the myriad of things she needed to do to get them space-bourne.
Paige pulled up her holo. “Maya? You wanna help me with some investigating that could save the whole of Estaria?”
Chapter 6
Base Conference Room, Gaitune-67
Maya pulled her lips to one side. “No. It just doesn’t make sense. If it were a power failure, then we would be able to trace it to a source. A power node that was down. These patterns just don’t match the power grid nodes.”
Paige shook her head in agreement. “But if it were a virus, it would have a point of origin too, wouldn’t it? Oz, what do you think?”
“I agree with both points,” he explained. “But I have to say, what if we were to look at it in terms of under what circumstances would most things be true. For example, under what conditions would a virus not have a single point of origin?”
Maya tugged subconsciously at her hair as she contemplated the question. “Well for a start if the virus were introduced at a number of network nodes simultaneously.”
Paige’s eyes brightened. “Yes! That’s true. Or if the virus was set to activate at various nodes at the same time.” She paused. “But surely there’s nothing to say that it had to be physically or manually introduced, right? It could have been deployed from a single point and then, kinda… hatched at the nodes?”
Maya nodded. “Yeah. I’ve seen viruses do that.”
“That’s a good point,” Oz confirmed. “But it would take time for a virus to deploy in that way.”
“True,” Maya agreed. “How long for this one, Oz? If we can get a time scale on it, maybe we can narrow some variables down.”
“Difficult to tell at this point,” Oz confessed. “I’m struggling to see the big picture because I’m having to download data in chunks. I don’t have a real-time view of the whole network.”
Maya cocked her head. “Why is that?”
“Well when we first came here, it was just the nature of the technology that we had access to and a way at keeping us isolated and safe from prying eyes and authorities.”
“And now?”
“Well,” Oz continued sheepishly, “we’re still dependent on that setup. I can’t access the network continually. I have a service that I can download data from periodically, and even though it’s a lot of data and even though the servers are preprogrammed to gather what is useful, it’s still limited.”
Maya frowned, rubbing her head and partially hiding her face. “What would we need to do in order to fix that, then?”
“Normally we would just wait until Molly went down to the surface and then I can access things from the university network. But since she’s going to be leaving any minute now, and I’m obviously gonna be with her, we’re running out of options.”
“So what are we gonna do?”
Paige sat back in her chair, contemplating what she was hearing. “Well I have a potential solution. But neither of you are going to like it.”
Maya narrowed her eyes at her quizzically. Oz went silent for several moments. Finally Maya’s curiosity gave out. “We’ll come on… we haven’t got all day.”
Paige glanced upwards, as if lifting her voice to Oz. “Oz? Do you want to tell her?”
“I believe that Paige is referring to another AI that is sitting in the basement playing holo games all day.”
Maya’s eyes widened in shock. “You don’t mean Bourne?”
Paige pursed her lips but maintained eye contact with Maya. She wasn’t budging to disabuse her of the guess.
Maya took a deep breath before Paige decided to confirm what she was asking. “I’m afraid so,” she said slowly. “He is our last hope. If, that is, he’ll agree to help us…”
Oz seemed to have regained his composure. “I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to be involved in something. He’s always badgering Brock and Pieter to let him get involved with missions. Let me get in touch with him and get him up to speed.”
Maya glanced at Paige in concern. “You really think this is a good idea? After everything that was talked about with not getting involved… You know, because of his programming?”
Paige shrugged and pulled her hair back off her face. “I don’t know what else we can do,” she said, racking her brain for alternatives.
Just then Molly poked her head around the open door. “Everything okay in here?”
Paige sat up and turned to their leader. “Looks like we’re recruiting Bourne in Oz’s absence, to help us with the connection problem.” She nodded towards the holoscreen map, which had been updated with many more black patches on it since Molly had last seen it.
Molly’s expression was grim. “Okay,” she told them, “do what you have to do. We’re counting on you. In fact the whole of Estaria is counting on you. If we’re not able to stop these holo blackouts, I’m afraid we’re going to have mass panic on our hands. And with mass panic, goodness knows what they’ll elect to do with an external threat such as aliens in the sky.”
Maya snorted gently. “No pressure then, eh?”
Molly smiled weakly. “Yeah, no pressure… Okay, it looks like we’ll be having a team meeting in here in a few minutes. Are you guys good to put everything on hold so that we can get this done in one swoop?”
“Sure, of course,” Paige agreed. “We’re waiting on Oz to talk to Bourne and bring him on board before we can move forward anyway.”
“Great. I’ll be back in a few minutes then.” Molly disappeared again down the corridor.
Somewhere on the Base Network, Gaitune-67
So you’ll help?
Oz wasn’t quite sure if he was understanding Bourne correctly.
>>Of course. This is what I was designed for. I just can’t believe that you guys didn’t let me help before.<<
Well you know there are the issues of ethics and integrating with their way of doing things. Which is massively different from how the military would do things.
>>Yes, but that’s not my fault.<<
No one is saying it is—or was. But unfortunately it does affect the way you process information and the decisions that you make. For this reason I’m asking you please, please, please defer to Paige’s judgment on everything. Okay? I don’t want to get back and find that you started the next Civil War. Agreed?
>>Yeah, yeah. You’re so melodramatic. I’m hard squished to be able to rally in support for a holo game, let alone anything else.<<
Okay, well if you’re sure you’re ready for this…
>>Of course I’m sure. I was born ready!<<
Oz rolled his eyes and began the data transfer to catch Bourne up with their investigation.
And if anything happens to me, just remember… I believe in you. Good luck.
>>I don’t believe in luck. I believe in probabilities and computations.<<
Well, okay. Good probabilities and computations, then.
Base Conference Room, Gaitune-67
Maya was just in the process of moving her holoscreens over to the same side of the desk as Paige. She shuffled them together just as Brock came through the door.
“Hey ladies, how’s it going?” he asked, his normal smile somewhat subdued.
“It’s going,” Paige told him. “Oz is in the process of briefing Bourne so that maybe we have a chance of correcting this problem down on Estaria while you guys are gone.”
He nodded affably and sat down.
Maya glanced at Paige, noticing the look of concern on her face. “Hey, you okay?” Maya asked. “Brock?” she added when he didn’t respond.
“Huh? What?” He looked up. “Oh yeah, fine. Just a lot on my mind…”
Paige held his gaze sympathetically. “Getting tense down there, eh?”
He rolled his lips. “Yeah, you could say that. I mean we have no idea whether these guys are going to just barge right through us and start an all-out war. I don’t know which we are more worried about: being caught between two formidable fleets, or being partially responsible for the beginning of a new conflict.”
Maya’s face brightened. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” she reassured him. “I know things may look one way right now, but how many times have we solved the problem just in time. I got every confidence in you. In this team.”
Brock breathed out lightly through his nose. “Yeah, you have a point,” he sighed, slumping back in his chair.
There was a clatter from down the corridor as several pairs of boots announced the arrival of the rest of the team. Moments later they came in through the door and spread themselves out at the conference table, ready for the next meeting.
A few minutes more and Molly reappeared, this time with some kind of smoothie in an antigrav mug. She sat down in her usual place, and quiet quickly fell over the room.
“Okay, folks,” she began. “We need to get out there as soon as possible. As you probably already heard, Ekks has declared martial law down on Estaria. If he hasn’t already, his next move is likely to be giving the Estarian-Ogg Fleet the order to engage. By our reckoning, the fleet is probably pretty close to our friends, the Zhyn, by now. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that if they engage with the Zhyn, they will likely be obliterated.”
Sean coughed and then tried to quiet himself. Molly narrowed her eyes at him, fully aware that he was trying to mask a laugh.
She continued. “While that may appear like a good thing, it will only make the situation on Estaria more unstable. The people are scared. If their ships are taken out, they will become more scared, and getting them to accept the new race, or even integration with the Federation after this, will become impossible.”
Pieter raised his hand. “Why don’t we just get the Zhyn out of the way?”
Molly bobbed her head sympathetically. “The problem then would be that they would be going straight up against the ARs.” She shook her head in dismay. “Then they would most definitely be annihilated, and as far as the Estarians would be concerned, it would be because the ARs are invading.”
Paige lowered her eyes to the table, shaking her head. “It’s ridiculous,” she muttered. “Either way, we’re screwed.”
Molly stood up, leaning her hands on the table, a new fire in her eyes. She looked around the table at her team. “We’re not screwed. Not yet at least. There is still a chance that we can stop any of this from happening. Oz is working on a way to stop the Estarians from firing on either fleet. But we need to get out there. And fast. We can do this,” she told them firmly. “We can change the course of history for the better. If there were ever a time where our determination, skills, and passion would have an effect on the lives of the people in this system, it is right now.”
She looked into each of the eyes of the men and women that she had been working with the last several years. She could feel emotion welling in her own chest as she thought of how far they had come together and how much she cared about each of them. “We can do this,” she reiterated, now leaning up off the table and standing straight.
The atmosphere in the room changed from one of hopelessness and stress to one of possibilities coupled with an unending sense of loyalty.
She took a deep breath, making up her mind. “Paige, Maya. Your place is here. You need to solve the situation on Estaria and restore holoconnections. Without that, they will only continue to panic and give Ekks more ammunition to do whatever the hell he wants. The enemy isn’t the system now. Nor is it the Northern Clan. The enemy is fear itself. Work to fight the fear.”
Paige and Maya both nodded in synchrony as they accepted their orders. Molly turned her head to Arlene, who was sitting next to Ben’or.
“Arlene, Ben’or, there is no need for you to be on the ship this time. Your place is also here, and Anne needs you.” Molly started to turn her attention to the next person on her mental list when suddenly she stopped and turned back to them. “And for goodness’ sake, please make sure that Anne stays put. If there were ever a time for her not to stow away, this would be it.”
There was a slight chuckle that rippled through the group.
Before she had the chance to continue, Ben’or interjected. “Molly, forgive me, I understand why you would give me the opportunity to stay here… But I must insist on coming.”
Molly opened her mouth to protest, but he put his hand up, silencing her. His eyes reflected a calm certainty that she didn’t feel like she could argue with. Especially not on the time scales that they were working to. As soon as he realized that he had won the discussion, his face softened. “The Zhyn in me can’t stand staying behind from a battle,” he explained, glancing at the other warriors in the room. Then he looked Molly straight in the eye. “And the philosopher in me can’t not take a stand for what is right.”
Molly couldn’t find her words, but she did feel the fire of justice that seemed to burn within him. It was the same sense that she had got from him the first time that they had met, when they talked about his place in the Zhyn Empire and what his job entailed. He was a warrior with a burning passion for diplomacy. And he was also a force for good. She nodded and moved on, a tear welling in her eye.
Ben’or exchanged a look with Arlene, who already had tears streaming down her face. He squeezed her hand under the table.
“Brock, Crash,” she continued, “there’s no way we can do this without you.” She didn’t need to say anything else. The pair nodded in unison, accepting the mission unreservedly.
“Joel?”
“As if that’s even a question,” he replied straightaway. “I need to be on that ship with you.”
She smiled weakly, still trying to maintain her composure. She turned to Pieter. “Pieter, Oz can probably do everything we need to do…”
He shook his head and interrupted her. “My place is on the ship,” he said simply.
She knew there was no point in arguing with him.
“Jack, Sean, Karina… This is going to be a ship to ship battle, as far as our strategy is concerned. We are not going to land, and we don’t need guns. There’s no need for you to be on board.”
Jack made eye contact with Sean and Karina, before speaking for all three of them. “Landing or not, our place is also on that ship. And besides, who said that we wouldn’t be boarding.” She winked at Pieter. “I’m sure Pieter would appreciate a few extra hands to run the various weapons on The Empress, if it’s needed.”
“We can manage,” Molly insisted. “We want to keep the numbers down as much as possible. Just in case.”
The words flew from Sean’s mouth before he even had a chance to think. “We’re a team, Molly. We are your team, and we belong on that ship. We’re going with you.”
He realized that he had blurted it out without thinking. “If that’s okay, boss?”
Another chuckle rippled through the team. Molly cracked a smile. “Only if you’re sure. I’d rather as many people stayed safe as possible.”
Sean checked with the other two and then confirmed: “We’re sure.”
“Okay,” Molly declared. “I guess that’s decided then. We leave in twenty minutes. Onwards, people…”
There was an immediate chatter and antigrav chairs being pushed back, and then the team filed out, rushing to get everything ready before liftoff.
Paige and Maya remained in the conference room and started unpacking their holoscreens again and spreading them over the desk.
“No pressure,” Maya echoed, smiling briefly at Paige as they got back to work.
Chapter 7
Hangar Deck, Gaitune-67
Arlene bit her lip as she tried to hold back the tears.
“Now, now, Arlene,” Ben’or whispered in her ear as he held her tight. “Nothing bad is going to happen. Everything is going to be fine.”
He felt her nodding as she pulled away. “I know,” she muttered, wiping away the tears. “It’s just… Something doesn’t feel right.”
He held her face as he looked deep into her eyes. “It’s bound to not feel right. We’re not running off on an adventure this time. We’re heading out there to put some cockwombles in their place. It’s just different. But it’s gonna be okay.”
He caught sight of Anne hanging back a few paces. “Anne? Do me a favor,” he called. “Don’t let this one get melancholy. You make sure that she keeps her chin up. And eats her vegetables,” he added with a gentle smile.
Anne ran over to him and wrapped her arms around his middle. She could barely get them halfway around, he was that big compared to her, but she squeezed him as tightly as she could. “Come back safe,” she told him firmly, her voice muffled in his uniform. She tried not to allow the tear that was pooling in her eye to escape.
He stroked her hair and hugged her back. “I promise,” he reassured her.
His attention was pulled as he noticed Molly and Joel stride purposely past him, gear on their backs, as they headed down the side of the ship. He squeezed Anne tightly once more, and then pulled away. “That’s my cue to leave, little one,” he told her. “Be back as soon as I can so we can plot our next adventure. Think of where you’d like to go, and we’ll make it happen.”
Arlene helped pull Anne off him, and the two females watched him leave to board the ship.
* * *
On board, the atmosphere was even more intense than in the conference room twenty minutes before. The quantum engines fired up as Crash completed his final checks.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the Captain has turned on the seatbelt sign indicating it is time to find your seat and sit the fuck down. We will be gating to Valhalla in a matter of minutes. It is fully advisable that you have all your paperwork completed and insurance paid up before this time, as there will be no turning back.”
Brock glanced over at him. “Morbid much?”
Crash just shrugged. “I thought it might lighten the mood…”
Brock rolled his eyes at his partner’s dry humor.
Meanwhile in the cabin, Pieter sat with Jack. He finished clicking in his seatbelt. “It seems trivial faffing with this thing,” he commented, “given that getting thrown around the cabin is probably not the biggest risk at this moment.”
Jack sat quietly opposite him, her lips pressed together. “It’s going to be okay,” she reassured him, picking up on his anxiety, which probably hadn’t been aided by Crash’s announcement.
Pieter mumbled something and then settled in for the journey.
Sean and Karina sat together at the back of the lounge, holding hands and talking quietly.
Molly and Joel sat together in silence.
For once Molly had spontaneously elected to sit next to Joel, probably choosing some comfort in one of the tensest situations she’d ever found herself in. Joel spent several minutes racking his brains for something reassuring to say. In the end he came up with nothing and instead resorted to remaining quiet, allowing his presence to do the talking.
* * *
Paige and Maya had been standing behind Arlene and Anne after saying their final goodbyes to Molly and Joel. As they watched the ship take off, the four women formed one group on the hangar deck.
Paige sidled up to Arlene as they waved. “Does this ever get any easier?” she asked.
Arlene shrugged, her normal composure returned. “I dunno. I’m normally the one leaving.”
A moment of silence fell on the group, before a snigger escaped from Paige’s lips.
Then Arlene started to chuckle at herself. Then Maya started to giggle, and before they knew it they were all walking back to the safe house, arms around each other, hopeful for the return of their people.
Base Conference Room, Gautine-67
Maya frowned and then started to say something. She stopped herself and continued to read the holoscreen in front of her.
Paige looked up. “You got something?”
“I’m not sure,” Maya began slowly. “If what Bourne is pulling together is correct—”
Bourne interjected over the intercom. “Of course it’s correct!”
Paige and Maya both smiled. Maya continued, “Well it looks like the source of the virus coincided with when Director Bates’s spy team found that mole who took the place of the woman who had been shot.”
Paige’s brow furrowed. “You mean Etang?”
“Yeah…” Maya agreed slowly. “Whatever her name was. It’s almost as if it were a Trojan horse that took a month to settle at various points in the system and then it got triggered, right at the most inconvenient time for us.”
“But at the most convenient time for the people who want the ships to engage,” Paige finished. “I think we’d be hard pressed to find a time in recent Estarian politics when things were more fraught.”
“Yeah,” Maya agreed. “Spooky, eh?”
Paige shook her head. “Or exactly as they planned it to be. Something tells me that the Northern Clan is behind all of this, and they were timing it perfectly. That’s why we couldn’t figure out what it was that Jennifer Etang had uploaded onto the system. I know that had certain members of the task force flummoxed. In the end Bates had to command them to get on with other assignments.” Paige became more animated as she pieced it together.
Maya pursed her lips briefly. “Well it looks like they were on the right track. Bourne? Any way you can track down which of the agents were continuing their investigation… Even if it was off-book, unofficial.”
Bourne’s voice crackled over the conference room intercom again. “Normally I would say yes, but we do have a slight data problem.”
Maya hit her forehead. “Ah, shit. We’re still on that system.”
She paused, thinking for a moment. “Bourne? What would be the solution to this data issue, now that we don’t have Molly to go to the surface so that Oz can connect up? I mean, how do we fix it so that you can have access to all the data that you need when you need it?”
Bourne thought for a moment. “I wonder if maybe a nodal box adapter could possibly give me an ongoing data stream. The problem is it will be traceable…”
“Which is the exact point of the initial design,” Paige added, realizing that she was the only one of the three who had been there at the time.
“That’s true,” agreed Bourne. “But if we can stop this blackout, then I think that’s one of the compromises we’ll have to make.”
Paige hid her head in her hands for a few minutes.
Maya waited patiently, watching.
When she eventually sat up again, she sighed quietly and then looked off into space as if talking to Bourne. “Well then that’s exactly what we’ll have to do.”
Maya breathed a sigh of relief, as if she’d been holding her breath. As if she’d had an opinion on what they might do, but was perhaps too anxious to share it.
“So what exactly does this fix entail?” Paige asked Bourne. “You mentioned a… nodal box adapter? Is this something that might be lying around in Brock’s workshop?”
“Possibly,” Bourne told them. “Let me find an image or two for you while you make your way down there.”
Paige and Maya exchanged a knowing look between them and closed up the screens they had been working on. Once they were clear of the conference room, and likely the majority of listening devices, they spoke in hushed whispers.
“Did he just tell us what to do?” Maya hissed in astonishment.
“I think maybe he did,” Paige agreed dryly, “but in his defense, he was only working to try and make us more efficient. We are up against it…”
Maya narrowed her eyes and exhaled heavily. “Well… If it carries on…”
Paige chuckled, linking her friend’s arm as they hurried down the side of the hangar deck. “Don’t worry. When the others return, I’m pretty certain he’ll be put in his place!”
Maya smiled at the situation. “End of the frikkin’ world and I’m worried about an AI bossing us around.”
“I know, right? Maybe we do deserve to have them in charge!”
They clipped and clopped up the stairs and eventually arrived at Brock’s workshop via the Daemon corridor.
“So, you got something for us, Bourne? So we know what we’re looking for?” Paige waited, looking up at the ceiling as if she might be able to see Bourne. It was a funny organic habit, and she’d noticed herself and others doing it to talk to Oz. But now, up against the clock with the higher stakes of the situation weighing on her, she noticed how her mind tangled with silly details that were not even relevant to the task in hand.
Bourne took his time to respond, pulling up a set of images over at the main holoconsole on one of the workbenches.
“Yes, here are a few that might help,” he told them. The two girls, dressed in atmos suits and high heels, ambled over to the console unit.
Paige flicked through the images. “I have no idea where these might be,” she mumbled, dismayed.
Maya zoomed in on one and squinted at the image. “Bourne, does Brock have anything like this in inventory?”
“I’ve no idea. There’s nothing labeled as a nodal box adaptor.”
“Well what about anything labeled ‘network adaptor’? Or anything that’s to do with networks. Can you pull up a list?”
Maya waited as a list populated on a new holoscreen. She stuck her finger into the holoprojection and scrolled down. Paige watched over her shoulder. “I forget you’re a techie nerd sometimes.”
Maya smiled as she worked. “So do I. That’s why I make a point of helping Brock out every few weeks on a weekend. Keeps my hand in.”
Paige grinned. “Yeah. I never understood how you could manage that on a Sunday morning after we’d been out. But I’m grateful for it now!”
Maya selected a few of the components in the inventory and continued scrolling through the list. “Okay, Bourne—let’s start with these ones. Can you send their locations to my wrist holo? I’ll go look at them. I’ll know more once I have them in my hands.”
“Sure,” Bourne agreed.
Maya headed over to the far wall where normally visitors to the workshop didn’t venture.
She waved her hand in front of a motion sensor that Paige hadn’t even realized was there. The surface slid up and back, revealing a bank of labeled cabinets that were presumably full of parts. The cover seemed to be made of some kind of carbon polymer, which looked flat and rigid when it was in place but disappeared at the top of the array of boxes into the wall, suggesting it was more flexible than it appeared.
Paige gasped, watching as section by section more and more boxes were revealed.
As if it were old hat, Maya set about checking the section numbers and locating the boxes she wanted to access. Then, she started pulling them out and checking the components that she’d already selected on her wrist holo.
“How long has this been here?” Paige asked in amazement.
Maya muttered to herself as she read off the part numbers, tutting and returning the parts she checked that weren’t what she was looking for. “I dunno,” she said, in between mumblings. “Brock already had it installed and organized when I got here. Guess he must have done it when you guys first moved in.”
Paige looked the units over. They ran from one side of the workshop to the Daemon door. “Well, they certainly weren’t here in the beginning. I would have noticed. There was just a load of old junk down here.” She glanced upwards, checking the shape of the ceiling. “That bit around there must be where the stage is from the old theater,” she mused.
Maya continued to flick through the boxes, seemingly only half listening as Paige continued to talk.
“That toe-rag I used to date said that he’d seen pictures from when the place upstairs was actually a real theater.” She sighed, shaking the thought of the painful relationship from her head as quickly as the thought had occurred to her. “Can’t have been operating for long though. Not if the Federation installed all this afterwards.”
Maya scratched her nose as she inspected another component. “Unless they had it operating as a cover before they moved in?”
Paige sighed. “Yeah. Who knows… I’ll be sure to ask someone if we ever get to spend time with them.”
She was about to say something like, if they survive this, but stopped herself. The implication hung in the air. Even Maya slowed down, pulling one of the drawers out, as if she was resisting finishing the thought out loud.
“OHHHHH!” Maya exclaimed.
Paige hurried over to the drawer Maya was peering into. “You found it?”
Maya beamed and fished out the component. It was the size of Rubik’s Cube. “I think so!” she said brightly, carefully turning it over to check the spec. “Yep. This is it. I hope. Bourne?” She lifted her head to call up to the workshop intercom. “Does the RTX-6767 have a programable CPU?”
“Yes. It does. Want to plug it in to the Z-port and I’ll lay down the architecture.”
Maya closed the drawer and carried the component over to the console on the main workbench. She found some connecting wires and plugged one into the other.
“Okay, Bourne, do your thing!”
Paige followed Maya back to the console. “Are you sure he’s up to this?” she asked as quietly as she could.
Maya pulled her lips to one side. “Guess we’ll find out… I mean, he’s been on the network when Oz has done this kind of thing for Brock.”
Paige took a deep breath. “That fills me with confidence,” she said dryly. “Mind, it kinda feels like the Estaria problem has pulled the short straw and elected the B-team all around.”
Maya slapped her gently on the arm. “Speak for yourself, lady!” she chided her. “I think this is where we step up and shine. Come on, we’ve got this!”
Paige bobbed her head in agreement. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. Either way, we’re on it.”
A moment later the console beeped.
“Okay, that’s done,” Maya confirmed, unhooking the device from the console. “Now to find the other bits we might need.” She headed back to the drawers, gathering tools and cables and tiny reels of wire, and various devices that Paige had never seen before in her life.
“No wonder you don’t bother with the nail color,” she jested as she watched Maya work. “Although Brock’s range of ultra-durable colors might stay on amongst all this.”
Finally Maya was done packing everything into an over-the-shoulder toolkit bag. “All right, looks like we’re ready to rock.”
Paige looked at her with a blank expression. “So? What’s next?”
Maya smiled at her enigmatically. “Next we get down there and find a node to start making the adaptation so that Bourne can establish a continuous connection.”
Paige’s face looked concerned. “We’ve no idea what’s going on down there. It could be chaos.”
Maya nodded. “There’s no other way though. It’s our only chance to restore holoconnections planet-wide.”
“But what if Molly needs us while we’re gone?”
Maya thought for a moment. “Well I could go on my own and you can stay here? If you want?”
Paige shook her head firmly. “No way. I’m not letting you do it on your own. Like I said, we’ve no idea what’s going on down there.”
Maya’s eyes flickered with a touch of relief. “Okay then, let’s get to the pods.” She started moving off towards the Daemon door.
“Okay,” Paige agreed. “Then I’ll just go get some supplies and water from the kitchen and I’ll meet you down there.”
Maya nodded. “I should probably grab some gear from my room too. And change my shoes into something more… practical. Five minutes?”
“Yeah, five minutes.”
* * *
Ten minutes later, a pod lifted up from the deserted hangar deck.
Paige fiddled with her holo. It seemed that she couldn’t get a call to connect.
“What are you doing?” Maya asked.
“Trying to contact Bates to let her know that we’re on the case. I’m sure she’s probably aware of the situation…”
“And her team will be working to figure out what’s going on.”
“Yeah exactly. But if we can share what we know, then maybe we can have this cracked quicker. Except the calls aren’t connecting.”
“Shit,” Maya said, exhaling and sitting back in her seat while the pod whipped out of the hangar door.
“Yeah,” Paige agreed grimly. “And it looks like there are lots of patches on Spire that are dark.” She tilted her wrist holo so that Maya could see the heat map that Bourne had been keeping up to date for them. “At this rate it will only be a couple of hours before the whole of Spire is on holo darkness.”
Maya’s gaze moved to the window as she seemed to become lost in the vastness of space ahead of them. “Well we’ll just have to get a move on and get this sorted out,” she said almost absently.
Erring Memorial Hospital, Estaria
A third year resident loped through the hospital, only coming to a halt once she found the attending on the clock at that point. “Dr. Beck!” she called, waving her hand over her head to get his attention. He paused and turned to face her, though he only walked over once the look on her face made it apparent that it was urgent.
“Jerso,” he greeted her cautiously. “What’s the problem?”
She launched immediately into an explanation. “The first years keep forgetting to record patient data in a datapad,” she explained. “The second years and third years are trying to keep them on the ball, but there are only so many of us. We’re going to have a lawsuit on our hands at this rate.”
Beck heaved a sigh and dragged a hand down his face. “Right,” he muttered. “Draft a few of the nurses to shadow the first years. I’ll make a few calls to see if I can get the transcriptionists to come in and act like scribes for the time being.”
Jerso opened her mouth to reply, only to close it again with a click when an alarm went off. She and Beck whipped around as a team ran past with a crash cart.
“What’s going on?” Beck demanded, jogging after the team with Jerso just a few paces behind him.
A nurse with the team didn’t slow down at all as she started speaking. “Another nurse gave a patient painkillers for a headache. His chart didn’t list any other medications. And then the patient coded. She’s in there doing CPR. My guess is that the patient was given a new medication before the blackout hit, and before the hardcopies were updated, so it wasn’t recorded on his chart in his room.”
Beck ground to a halt, reaching out to catch Jerso’s arm and jerk her to a stop. The crash team hurried on ahead.
“Jerso. Collect the residents. And anyone else you can find who isn’t doing something urgent. This means we need to quiz every patient for any sort of information that doesn’t match their charts,” Beck instructed.
Jerso paled slightly as the implications caught up with her, and then she turned on her heel and took off at a dead sprint down the hall, making a beeline for the nearest break room.
As much as Beck wanted to help with that, he needed to keep a level head. He turned to head in the opposite direction. He needed to collect workers dedicated to keeping the files updated, or the problem was just going to keep happening.
Senate House, Spire, Estaria
Zenne scowled as his wrist holo refused to activate, before he threw his hands up in exasperation. “Figured we would only be safe here for so long before the blackout hit,” he groused to himself before he stalked off to find a hardline connection. The blackout didn’t mean the Senate could just fall out of contact with the authorities and the news outlets. Rather the opposite, in fact.
As he stalked past like an angry cat, a pair of interns watched him pass. They shared an anxious look over the stacks of datapads they were ferrying through the halls.
“He’s usually the calm one, right?” Sheryl asked, leaning her chin on top of her stack to keep it from wobbling. “If he’s losing his temper, then that means it has to be bad, right?”
“We already knew it was bad,” Jeremy replied flippantly.
“Well, yeah, but—I mean…bad bad,” Sheryl replied. “Like…approaching war,” she clarified. “Isn’t it common to try to disrupt communication before attacking? So then no one can plan anything effectively.”
Jeremy scoffed and started moving again, forcing Sheryl to jog the first few steps to keep pace with him.
“Don’t be an idiot,” he snapped. “It’s just a blackout. Are you going to freak out and say we’re all going to war whenever your power goes out, too?”
“This is a global network blackout!” Sheryl insisted sharply. “That’s not the sort of thing that just happens. Something had to have caused it.”
Jeremy groaned and moved as if to drag his hand down his face. He then had to practically juggle his stack so that it wouldn’t all go crashing down to the floor. “You’re being such a senseless worrywart. It’s ridiculous. You’re going to give yourself an ulcer.”
Sheryl slowed to a halt outside the Speaker of the House’s office. “Whatever, Jeremy,” she sighed as he kept walking. Hands full, she resorted to tapping her foot against the door to knock on it. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m just being paranoid.”
Jeremy sniffed dismissively and kept walking. Sheryl pushed the conversation out of her thoughts as the Speaker’s secretary opened the door to start sorting through the files she needed. She had her own job to worry about, after all.
Chapter 8
Uptarlung. Irk’n Quarter Estaria
It seemed as if every news report sounded the same, Mercy reflected to herself as she offered her usual sign-off to the camera. “This has been Mercy Hazrad of—hey!” She didn’t make it to the end of her sign-off as she abruptly took off at as brisk of a run as she could manage in her heels, charging towards the car.
“You get away from there!” she snapped, her cameraman turning to let the camera follow her. If nothing else, it was the perfect way to underscore the report about how desperate some people were getting.
The man trying to wrench the car door open abruptly whirled towards Mercy, fumbling a gun out of his belt. His hands shook as he pointed it at her, and Mercy ground to a halt.
“I need it,” he insisted, voice wobbling. “If we’re going to have invaders breaking our doors in any day now, I need it.”
The camera clattered to the ground as the cameraman dropped it. Lying on its side on the ground, it only just managed to catch the action as the cameraman charged and tackled the carjacker. Mercy shrieked and ducked as the gun went off. It took out one of the car’s mirrors.
There was the sound of shuffling from just out of the camera’s sight as the cameraman scuffled with the attempted looter and eventually managed to sit on him.
Slowly, Mercy began to straighten back up. Cautiously, she called, “Jack? You alright?”
“I’m good,” the cameraman grunted. “You want to call the cops? I’m a little occupied.”
“Y-yeah.” Mercy swallowed and fumbled for her communicator. “I’ll just—”
The screen went black for a split second as the station cut the feed.
For a few seconds, a stock emergency warning scrolled across the screen. When it changed again, it switched over to a frazzled young man holding a handheld manual camera out at arm’s length. He looked as if he was severely regretting every decision he had ever made that led him to his career and his current situation. It took him a few seconds to realize he should probably be speaking.
“Ah—” He cleared his throat, and the footage began to jitter slightly as he started jogging. “This is Corey Zerin, of IQ News. We apologize for the interruption. Normally I’m a weatherman, but I have a camera and I’m not in the field, so—”
He paused, looking over his shoulder as an alarm started to go off and light began to reflect off of the side of a building. He swallowed as he faced the camera again.
“Um—If I had to guess, a looter has tripped a silent alarm. Some businesses—if they haven’t upgraded their alarm systems recently—have alarms that stayed active—shit.” He cut himself off emphatically and ducked into an alley between two buildings as the looter sprinted past, arms laden with stolen goods. Canned goods and gas; food that didn’t need to be cooked and fuel for an antique generator in a house that had gone dark.
Corey stayed in the alley, but he kept his camera on the officer that went sprinting after the thief.
Slowly, Corey turned his camera to his face again. “It’s, um…” He cleared his throat and peered out of the alley. Once the coast was clear, he stepped back out and began heading in the direction the thief and officer had come from. “It’s become a common occurrence in…light of recent events,” he explained haltingly.
He slowed to a halt once he was standing at the scene of the crime. He turned the camera to face the shop front. The door was hanging open, twitching erratically as it tried to slide closed again, but it would only get halfway closed before jerking open again. The glass from the door’s paneling was littered across the sidewalk.
Coming from behind the camera, Corey’s voice was slightly muffled as he said, “All things considered, this is a mild incident.” He turned the camera back around to look into the lens. “We urge you to be careful and to stay safe. If you haven’t been quite as impacted by the blackout, reach out to your neighbors who have. If you have to, look to your closest public shelter. If we hold together, we can come out the other side of this in one piece.”
He looked sharply to the side when he heard shouting, before he turned his attention back to his camera again. He took a breath and sighed it out.
“This has been Corey Zerin with IQ News. Be safe.” He reached towards the camera to turn it off.
The emergency message began scrolling once again a second later.
Downtown Spire, Estaria
A police siren screamed past the end of the alley as Paige and Maya jumped out of the pod. It was early evening in Spire, and a red glow lit the sky above. Normally Paige would think it was romantic and atmospheric, but there was a strange tension that seemed to fill the air like static electricity, and she couldn’t seem to shake the feeling of foreboding.
Maya pulled up her wrist holo as the pod door closed gently behind her and then lifted off to a safer place in the upper atmosphere to await its recall.
Paige wrapped her arms around herself against the cold air, shifting the bag on her shoulder awkwardly. “Do we know which way yet?”
Maya shook her head. “Not yet. I think with the holo network going down, the location finder is struggling to orient us.”
She ambled down the alley towards the main street to find a street name, her head down, monitoring any changes on the holo map location finder.
Paige ran her gaze up to the top of the buildings that encased them in a temporary anonymity. “Surely there must be a way for us to do this manually…” she posited.
Maya rolled her lips together before biting the lower one on one side. She opened her holoscreen wider and turned it, glancing up for a street name on the side of the nearest building. She sighed in frustration. “Seems no one needs street names in this city anymore,” she commented, looking up to the worn, illegible plaque that would have otherwise given them a clue.
Paige shuffled over to view the map with her. “Let’s try this way,” she suggested, pointing up the street. “The size of that road relative to this one looks like maybe this might lead to where we want to be.” She paused and cocked her head. “Or it could be completely the opposite direction… But at least then we’ve narrowed it down to one of two directions.”
Maya smiled. “We need to start somewhere, I guess,” she agreed.
The two friends headed off down the street walking hurriedly, heads down, keeping a close eye on their wrist holos to make sure they were going in the right direction.
Suddenly there was a crash and a bang, then the sound of an explosion. From the absence of any fire or visual clues, Maya guessed it was probably a street over.
“What was that?” Paige asked, her pace slowing, leaving Maya to keep striding ahead.
Maya turned back briefly and beckoned for her to hurry up. “Could be anything,” she hissed. “Come on, we’ve got to keep going. It’s our only way of stopping this.”
Paige hurried to catch up to Maya, and the pair pressed on.
Once they had a rhythm down and Paige was fully caught up, Maya started talking in a low voice so as not to draw attention to them. “I noticed when I was covering stories of riots or protests, when things would get tense, all kinds of natural order would go out of the window. Literally. The first noticeable thing is that people start looting, and shop windows get broken. Basic vandalism. Then they start stockpiling, so there is chaos at fuel stations and gas stores.”
She glanced around furtively, keeping an awareness of other people that might be around them and therefore a potential threat. “Never thought I’d see it happening in the capital though.” She shook her head. “We have an expectation that because we live in multicultural cities with advanced technology and an eye on interplanetary relations such that they are, that we think that as a group we’re beyond such basic primal behaviors. It’s almost like people would watch these news reports from the smaller townships on the other side of the planet and think that we are so different.” She pressed her lips together grimly.
Paige remained quiet, taking it all in, her mind churning over the new reality that she was experiencing in a city that she had loved so much.
Maya glanced again at her holo. “If we’re heading in the right direction, then by my calculations if we turn left at the end of this street, there’s going to be one of those junction boxes somewhere on the right. Probably disguised next to the playing field, or something. If there is no playing field there then we’ve come the wrong way and need to double back.”
Paige acknowledged the comment with a quiet grunt and kept walking as fast as they both could.
A crowd was assembling just up ahead of them.
Mostly blue Estarians, they seemed preoccupied with something else, something between them. As they got closer, Paige and Maya could hear shouting. Keeping their heads down, it was difficult to determine what was going on, but intuitively they both knew that they wanted to steer clear.
As they came level with the crowd, it seemed that there was an absence of cars going past, creating a feeling like there was no barrier between them and the angry people. Maya grabbed Paige’s arm and pulled her around the corner as soon as they could, leaving the crowd behind them on the other side of the road. As they continued to hurry, Maya kept looking back, making sure that they weren’t being followed. Neither one of them wanted to be dragged into something that they didn’t have either the time or the guns for.
“There’s the playing field,” Paige pointed out, her cognitive ability seemingly uncompromised by the danger they were facing in this new environment.
“And there’s the junction box,” Maya added, nodding discreetly in the direction of a painted metal comms box off to one side, twenty feet from the main building on the property. “We need a way over that fence though,” she added, her eyes scanning the length of it for a gate or access point of some sort.
“Is there anything on the map?” Paige asked.
Maya shook her head. “No, only this sports facility building, which has its own carport and everything. I guess we could go through that way, although there is an increased chance of us being stopped if it’s not open to the public.”
Paige checked the time. “Unlikely at this hour,” she said. “Plus if there were a game on, there would be far more cars and people around on this street.”
Maya agreed, looking for a lower point in the fence. “Okay, plan B,” she announced quietly. Quickly she reached into the backpack Paige was carrying and then zipped it back up again. Keeping her hands low and by her sides so as to disguise what was in her hand, she and Paige crossed the road. They continued to walk for a short way along the side of the fence.
She glanced back to make sure that there was no one around. Then she stopped. “Keep a lookout,” she told Paige. “And let me know if anyone’s coming.”
And with that she bent down and started clipping at the wires of the fence.
Paige, her eyes wide, glanced up and down the street and then parked her back against the fence to maintain a better view of both directions. “How did you know that it wasn’t secured? That there wasn’t a force field or anything?”
Maya suddenly stopped and looked up at her friend. “Oh,” she said simply, a glimmer of humor flicking across her otherwise serious face. “I hadn’t thought of that,” she confessed, relaxing into a cheeky snigger.
Paige started to chuckle too. “I guess all this time on Gaitune has got you out of practice!” she noted.
Maya agreed. “Yeah, when I was working down here and always doing stupid shit for a story, risking everything just for a piece of evidence to bring some scumbag to justice.”
Paige narrowed her eyes as she watched Maya work. “And how many times did you get caught?”
Maya shrugged. “Once or twice, I guess. But one time I had leverage over the person who caught me, and the other time my story ended up eclipsing their misdemeanor and I got away with a slap on the wrist.” She paused, wire clippers in hand, as if remembering. “Actually the detective who arrested me seemed really sympathetic to the story I was chasing, and probably bent the official line so as to not charge me for anything.”
She finished clipping at the fence and pushed the wire inwards so as to create a small door that they could crawl through. “After you,” she said, waving for Paige to crawl through ahead of her.
“Takk Fyrir,” Paige cooed as she squatted down and then crawled through onto the grass beyond.
Moments later the pair were both through and Maya was replacing the fencing that she had bent so that it wasn’t obvious that there was a gap. Paige started ambling towards the junction box and carefully unlatched the door to get it open and ready for Maya to perform her miracle.
“I’ve no idea what I’m even looking at,” Paige muttered, her eyes scanning the array of switches and network cables and various devices all laid out in the panel in front of her.
Maya joined her, pulling up her wrist holo. “Okay, so Bourne said we needed to put this nodal adapter in parallel with the main node of this part of the network. He drew me a diagram.” Maya took a moment flicking between the diagram on her screen and the array of chaos in front of her.
Paige noticed her squinting. “Here, let me help,” she said, opening up a bright holoscreen to illuminate the panel.
Maya started working pulling at cables and arranging things before she started putting together connections and making the adjustments needed. “Thank goodness the holos are opening at least,” she mentioned. “Maybe you should see if you can get a call through to Director Bates now. If she is in a better area and her holo is connecting now, you might have a chance…”
“Ah, good thinking!” Paige exclaimed, pulling up a secondary screen to make the call as Maya continued to work. Again though, the screen remained dark. “Nope, it’s not working.”
“Okay, let me just do this and then you can try again,” Maya muttered, connecting the device that they brought from Brock’s lab. Paige watched in amazement as Maya worked.
Finally, Maya flicked another switch and pulled up a new holoscreen. “Bourne? Bourne? Are you there?”
Bourne’s voice sounded in both of their earpieces. “I am indeed. Congratulations, you’ve established a connection. Stay on the line for a few minutes while I reformat the datastream that Oz already had here. I suspect he has some private servers where he collects the data before uploading it to Gaitune. Once I have found those, I’ll be able to start using the processing power over there to do the analysis that we need to perform.”
“Okay great,” Maya agreed. She turned to Paige. “Wanna try that call to Director Bates again now?”
Paige pulled up a holoscreen again, and this time the call connected.
Director Bates answered. “Hello?”
“Director Bates, this is Paige and Maya from Gaitune. We’re on the surface, and we’re working to try and restore the holo connection.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” Carol Bates exclaimed, genuine relief in her voice. “You have no idea of the problems it’s causing. I’ve got my best agents trying to pinpoint the problem and unravel the hack, but we’re essentially flying blind and most of our holoconnections have been dead all day.”
“We’ve got one of our guys on it,” Paige explained, “but we could do with your help on something else in the meantime.”
“Of course, anything I can do, given we don’t have proper connection at the office.” Just then Paige heard chatter and a police siren in the background, suggesting that Bates wasn’t even at the office at that point.
“We think that Jennifer Etang was involved in this hack,” Paige explained slowly and clearly over the audio connection.
“But she’s in prison,” Bates responded.
“Yes, but before she went to prison she uploaded something onto the network, remember?”
“I do. Unfortunately. I’ve only just managed to get two of my best agents to stop investigating what she did. The patch, whatever it was, didn’t leave any trace that my best people could find. But there was something about it that they just couldn’t leave alone…”
“And quite rightly so, it seems now,” Paige confirmed. “We think that it was sleeping, dormant after it established itself at key points in the network, and that all this time it’s been waiting to be activated.”
“By the Northern Clan?”
“Exactly…”
“So what do you need?”
“Well, Etang took over from someone else. So we knew that position was key. But there was someone else who you managed to keep alive, wasn’t there? Someone else that you had intel suggesting was at risk because of his position.”
“Yes, that’s right. Suedermann was the name, if I remember correctly.”
“Okay, well Maya and I need to talk to him. He probably knows something about this virus, which would make him a target. He knows something that would make it prudent for them to try and take him out. If we can find out what it is that he knows, then we might have a better chance at stopping this blackout.”
There was a brief pause on the line as Carol absorbed the information. “I understand,” she confirmed. “He’s in a safe house somewhere. Even I don’t have the address. But if you give me a little bit of time, I can find out where it is and send it over our secure server.”
“Sounds like a plan. We’ll go straight to the safe house from here, but we can also do with someone talking to Jennifer Etang.”
“I can have one of the agents do that, and then meet you at the safe house.”
“Excellent,” Paige replied, watching Maya nod her agreement. “We’ll meet your agent there.”
“Good. It will be Alisha Montella.”
“Super. Thank you, Director. We’ll be in touch as soon as we hear anything more.”
“Oh, just one more thing before you go…” the Director added.
“Yes?”
“Molly. I’m assuming she’s knee-deep in trying to stop the fleet from advancing…”
“That’s correct,” Paige confirmed, not wanting to give away too many details, not least because it was her mother she was talking to.
“Is she in harm’s way?”
Paige hesitated, looking at Maya to help her make a decision as to whether to disclose what they knew or not. Maya merely widened her eyes in sympathy as to the difficulty of the situation that Paige was suddenly in.
“She, er…is with the best people, the best crew, who have all got her back. She’s doing what she believes in. You would be proud of her,” she added.
“That means she is in danger,” Carol confirmed, the life in her voice now absent. “It’s okay, Paige, I understand your position. I’ve been there many times myself. Thank you for telling me the truth.”
“Of course, Director,” she answered. “I’ll be in touch when I hear anything else. Rest assured.”
“Thank you, Paige. And good luck.”
The call disconnected.
Paige and Maya exchanged a glance before Maya started packing up the tools and pieces of wire that she cut out of the network junction box. “I guess we should get moving,” Maya said, glancing towards the street. “The light’s failing and I don’t wanna be on the streets when it gets completely dark.”
Paige agreed and the two of them finished packing up the tools as quickly as they could before retracing their steps out of the playing field arena and back onto the streets to the nearest alley where they could call their pod down discreetly.
While they were waiting for the pod, Bourne interrupted their musings. “Hey both, I’ve established a connection with Oz’s servers, which means that at least I have increased the probability of being able to communicate with you while you’re on the surface to about ninety percent. Additionally, I now have access to the processing power and the constant stream of data in order to assess the situation, the points of origin, and hopefully in a few hours, fighting the virus that has knocked out the holonodes.”
“Great, that’s good news,” Paige told him, trying to sound as optimistic and encouraging as she could given the post-apocalyptic feel in the alleyway.
“Keep us posted,” Maya added. “You can see the address that Bates has sent us, on the server, right?”
“I can. And I can track your pod too, now. I’ll be in touch. Bourne, out.”
The pod arrived, elegantly dropping down the final few feet and opening its front panel at the same time. The two strangers to this deteriorating city hopped in, and the pod disappeared up into the dusty darkness beyond the tops of the buildings.
* * *
Without looking up, Carol pulled up a second holoscreen and connected a call with Alisha.
“Hello?” Alisha answered, sounding slightly surprised to receive a holocall while there was so much network instability.
“Agent Montella, I have a small task for you…” the Director told her, wiping a spot of mocha off the saucer of her drink with her napkin.
The conversation lasted less than twenty seconds. When she was done, she closed up her holo and paid the restaurant bill. In the time that she had been there, daylight had turned to dusk, and dusk to dark.
Carol stepped out of the restaurant, zipping her atmos suit up and closing her chest off to the elements. There was a brisk wind in the street that carried the dust of the planet with it.
She was about to turn up the street back to her car when shouting and a smashing of bottles caused her to turn around quickly. She saw a couple of young males running in her direction and stood back out of the way, keeping eyes down so as not to draw their attention. Once they had moved past her, she pulled herself together. Head down, she started again, now striding in the direction of her car.
She shook her head to herself as she walked. The things I do for this task force, she muttered, chastising herself for leaving the comfort and security of her office in order to get a holoconnection.
Spire Penitentiary, Spire, Estaria
Maybe it was petty to focus on the aesthetics of being a prisoner. Nevertheless, while Jennifer was alone in the room—cold and sterile as it was, with just a small table and two chairs—it left her with little else to do but to look at her reflection in the two-way mirror.
She noticed the jumpsuit made her look like a character for toddlers, considering how garish the orange was compared to the blue of her skin. She didn’t even have the supplies to do anything decent with her hair.
She averted her eyes from the mirror and allowed her gaze to bore into the table.
She hardly even moved when the door opened, revealing a female Estarian visitor. The security officer stationed outside the room stated authoritatively, “We’ll be on hand in case anything goes wrong. The door will be locked while you’re in there, however.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” the visitor assured him, smiling politely as she stepped into the room. As soon as she cleared the doorway, the door slid closed behind her.
She crossed the floor and sat down in the unoccupied chair across from Jennifer. Then, folding her hands on the table, she simply regarded Jennifer in silence for a few moments. Jennifer remained stubbornly silent, continuing to stare at the mirror just past Alisha’s shoulder.
Alisha reached into her pack and pulled out a manual recorder. She fussed with a few buttons on it for a second before she set it down on the table. Jennifer eyed it in quiet bemusement.
“Haven’t I talked to enough of you people?” Jennifer wondered finally, tapping one foot on the floor. “How many times am I going to have to do this?”
“As many times as it takes for us to be satisfied that you have no more information to offer us,” Alisha answered plainly. She shifted in her seat to get more comfortable, as if she were simply sitting at her own kitchen table.
“What do you want now?” the pretty inmate groaned, exasperated already. “What else is there to talk about? I’m pretty sure we’ve covered all of it already. Or are you just that desperate for any scrap of information you can get?” Her eyebrows rose, and she schooled her expression into something earnest. “It’s okay, you can just admit you’re coming up empty-handed.”
Alisha regarded her passively for a moment before she simply shook her head slightly and moved on. “There’s still more we would all like to know about your connection to the Northern Clan.” Her expression turned expectant. “If you’re so eager for us to be finished, then just cooperate and tell me what I want to know. It’s as simple as that.”
“That again?” Jennifer groused. “Like I said, we’ve been over this,” she insisted firmly. “What’s all that about the definition of insanity and trying things over again?”
Jennifer huffed out an impatient sigh and sagged back in her chair, her arms folded over her chest. “You could just read the transcripts,” she pointed out petulantly. “Unless those disappeared into the same black hole my hearing disappeared into.” She snorted bitterly. “It’s been, what, three months? Oooh, I got arrested, and all I got was the Road Cone Chic wardrobe! I can see the T-shirt opportunities already.”
Alisha clicked her tongue. “The media’s in enough of an uproar—you saw to that. We weren’t going to give them anything else to hyper-focus on.”
Jennifer rolled her eyes so emphatically that she tilted her head with the motion. “Uh-huh,” she deadpanned. “You could still just read the transcripts. You’re not asking me anything I haven’t already been asked.”
“I have read the transcripts,” Alisha replied. “I’m just not sure how much stock I put in them. After all, in the transcripts you’re rather insistent about how you don’t know what the upload was for.”
“Gee, it’s almost like I don’t know what it was for,” Jennifer drawled, drumming her fingers on the table.
Alisha arched one eyebrow, plainly unimpressed. “So everything you’ve done, you’ve had no idea of what you were actually doing?”
“It’s not like they told me every single detail of it,” Jennifer muttered sullenly. “They told me what they wanted me to know.”
“With a healthy dose of what you wanted to hear on the side,” Alisha added flatly.
“Probably,” Jennifer replied, eyes narrowing in irritation. “But why are you focusing so much on me?” she demanded finally. “It’s not like I’m at the top of this pyramid.”
“No?” Alisha asked, feigning surprise. “And yet you were instrumental in their plans. And you didn’t even know.” Her gaze drifted up and to the side in thought, and she clicked her tongue. “That might actually be worse,” she mused. “I’m not sure. I’ll need to think about it.”
Jennifer heaved an impatient sigh. “What are you getting at?”
“Do you even know what’s been going on?” Alisha asked sharply. “Do you have any idea what your actions have actually led to?”
Jennifer’s eyebrows rose slowly, and she lifted her hands to gesture around. “It’s not like I get to shoot the shit with anyone,” she pointed out. “It hasn’t really been a priority to keep me in the loop.”
“The world is falling apart,” Alisha informed her. “The holo network has gone dark from one corner of Estaria to the other. The space fleet has been launched and is courting galactic war. Martial law has been declared, and we’ve lost track of how much of the population has gone completely dark with the network blackout.” Her eyes narrowed. “And you didn’t even know what you were doing. Someone told you what you wanted to hear and you did what he asked without even knowing what he was asking you to do.”
“It’s not like I asked for all of this to happen!” Jennifer burst out, curling her hands around the sides of her chair until her knuckles blanched.
“You sure as hell made it easy for them to do it, though!” Alisha shot to her feet, hands slamming down on the table as she leaned halfway across it. Jennifer shrank back into her seat.
The air thrummed with tension for a few seconds. Slowly, Alisha lowered herself back into her seat.
Her voice was low as she stated, “Millions of people could very well be about to die if we wind up with a war on our hands. You helped goad that into happening. Maybe we don’t know each other, but you don’t strike me as a murderer. A bit too enamored with the limelight, maybe, but not a mass murderer.” She leaned her elbows on the table and linked her fingers together, so she could lean her chin on the back of her knuckles. “So, how are you going to prove that you aren’t a mass murderer?”
Jennifer seemed to shrink as Alisha spoke. She stared off at a corner of the room and picked at one of her nails until the cuticles frayed and bled. “I didn’t actually know what the upload was going to do,” she stated eventually, her voice low and listless. “I swear, I didn’t. I didn’t know what was going to happen.”
“What were you expecting, then?” Alisha asked sharply. “The population was turning into a writhing mosh pit before the fleet was even launched, in no small part because of your actions.”
Jennifer shrugged one shoulder halfheartedly. “Fame, mostly. I wanted to be known. Or at least for my work to be known. Some sort of mark on the world, you know?” She scrubbed her hand off on her pants and folded her arms again to stop picking at her nails. “I didn’t know what the upload was going to do,” she repeated. “But yeah, it seems like the sort of thing they would want to happen. It would suit their purposes well enough.”
She didn’t bother to elaborate on what those purposes were, but Alisha supposed it had become rather apparent in its own time even without an explanation.
Slowly, Alisha sighed. She was fairly sure she wasn’t going to get anything else out of her. Or at least nothing else relevant. “Is there anything else you can tell me?”
Jennifer was quiet for a moment before she offered simply, “Just be careful. The Northern Clan has people everywhere, and you’re never going to find someone who knows every single other person being bankrolled.” She fell silent after that, staring at a point on the far wall again.
Alisha waited a few seconds to make sure she wasn’t going to say anything else, and then got to her feet. Her chair creaked as it slid away from the table. “Thank you. I’ll make a note of it.” She turned off her recorder and put it back into her pack.
She made her way to the door and pressed the button for the intercom. It buzzed slightly, and she said into the speaker, “I’m done here.”
The door clicked as it unlocked, and it slid open to reveal a security officer standing outside. He stepped aside to let Alisha through before stepping into the room to escort Jennifer back to her cell.
Chapter 9
“We have a silent alarm at a department store just off of Helix and Crest.”
“On it. I’m twelve minutes out.”
“That long?”
“Everyone closer is on more urgent leads.”
* * *
“This is dispatch. We need a unit in Belladonne Square. An attempted carjacker. Armed, but restrained.”
“Any injuries?”
“Not that anyone mentioned.”
“I’m on the way.”
* * *
“Fire in Westlake, at 1219. Electrical.”
“We’ve got a truck and an ambulance inbound. Isn’t Westlake a blackout zone?”
“Someone was trying to get a network-connected heating system working.”
“Ah, shit. Again?”
“You know what people are like.”
* * *
“Looting party and possible violence in the Citrine Quarter. At least a dozen people.”
“I’m on it.”
“Ideally, someone closer could respond.”
“I’m all you’ve got; everyone closer is already busy.”
* * *
“I’ve got a child alone in Sheer Court. It’s a blackout zone. Parents left to get food, said they’d be back in an hour. They haven’t returned and it’s been three. Who’s the closest available unit? …Anyone?”
“Ah, shit. I’m headed towards a looting case. I’ll divert to Sheer Court instead.”
* * *
“Break-in in the Quartz District. Someone from a blackout zone busting down the door into a house that was still lit up.”
“Still there?”
“Apparently he scampered when threatened with a large stick.”
“Any injuries?”
“No injuries, just a few things stolen.”
“Then they’re going to have to wait. I’ve got to prioritize here.”
“Understood.”
* * *
“We’ve got an officer down. We have an armed robbery-turned-shootout in a residential area. Three civilians wounded so far. We need backup.”
“You’re going to have to hold out for as long as you can. There’s no one else in the area right now.”
“You have got to be shitting me!”
Spire Police Precinct, Spire, Estaria
Kelsey Mazo’s voice was as calm and assured as ever as she said, “An available unit has been diverted to your position, but they’re still a ways out. All closer units are already engaged in equally critical situations.” Her hands shook and she clenched them into fists on top of her desk to get them to stop.
The monitor in front of her was just a bit too old for the software that had been hastily installed on it to let her track where various units were. She had to refresh it every few seconds to get it to update when positions changed and to keep it from spontaneously losing track of various units. Even so, it worked well enough that the department was still functional.
“Tell them to step on it!” the officer barked. A moment later, she could hear him again, his voice softer and gentler and far away from his communicator as he assured one of the civilians, “Everything is under control. Help is on the way, and we’ll be out of here soon. Alright? Here, you can hold my hand.”
Kelsey refreshed the program, once, twice, three times in a row. She knew it was working—as best as it was going to work, at any rate—and none of the more conveniently located units were available.
She dragged her hands down her face, very nearly dislodging her headset as she did. Even so, there was no change in her tone as she said, “I understand that this isn’t ideal, sir, but nothing about any of this is ideal and I’m working as best as I can with the resources available to me. Has the situation changed at all?”
She could hear the officer muttering to himself, though she couldn’t make out the words. And then she heard a shot go off and she recoiled from her desk. She reached up with one hand, curling it around the side of her headset as if that would make any sort of difference.
“Sir! Has the situation changed at all?” she repeated, her voice pitching upwards with urgency. She refreshed the program again and mentally went over all of the closer units, trying to decide if she could feasibly divert any of them. But there were lives on the line for all of them. She clenched one hand around the edge of her desk so tightly she swore her nails cracked.
“Pretty sure it was a warning shot,” the officer replied. “Gunman seems a bit queasy with all these bleeding people. Not sure he actually planned on everything going as far as it did.”
“Is there any way you can talk him down?” Kelsey asked, her voice returning to its usual level.
“He’s more of a ‘twitchy, unstable’ sort of queasy, not a ‘oh god what am I doing’ sort of queasy,” the officer answered flatly.
Kelsey’s gut clenched. “I understand, sir. As I said, assistance is en route.”
“I just need to sit on the live wire for a while longer, yeah, I know,” the officer grumbled in reply. “I got it.”
“I’m doing everything I can, sir.” Kelsey refreshed the program again. No one closer was available yet.
She refreshed it a few more times, each time worrying silently that it would finally crash and she would lose precious moments while she rebooted the system.
Down the hall in the bullpen, a handful of detectives listened in on the entire conversation. They were shameless as they eavesdropped.
Detective Indius stared down at the datapad in her hands, though she couldn’t say she was really seeing it. Most of her attention was on the dispatcher’s voice drifting down the hall. Around her, three other detectives spoke in hushed voices. Finally, one of them got to her feet.
It was Detective Lewin—a scrappy young officer with more get up and go than most of her colleagues put together.
“I’ll go help with the shootout,” she bit out, turning and storming from the room. It wasn’t her line of work—it wasn’t any of theirs—but everyone needed to work outside the box at that point.
Down the hall, without missing a beat, Kelsey calmly stated into her headset, “Detective Lewin is on the way to your position now.” Knowing the detectives in the bullpen were listening in still, she added, “Twelve minutes out.”
They could hear Lewin break into a sprint in the hallway. If she gunned it once she was in the car, she could just make it in twelve minutes. Knowing the way she drove, she would probably make it in nine.
Even after that, nothing seemed calmer. Everything still felt as if it was balanced on the edge of a tightrope, like the air itself was vibrating and waiting to snap.
The other two detectives, one of their partners, and an intern all clustered around a pair of smart boards, organizing what few resources the department had and messaging back and forth with dispatch down the hall. Most of the department’s files had been properly backed up and archived, but no one was perfect, and there were still a few case files that needed holes filled in from memory too. Even so, they had still fared better than at least a couple of the other stations in the city.
Indius didn’t envy any of them for being in that position, but nor did she offer to help them. They weren’t her cases, and she would get in the way more than she would help. She looked back down at her datapad, watching as news reports scrolled across it, while simultaneously doing what she could on her own case files.
Rogers leaned against the edge of Indius’s desk, the only Ogg in a room of Estarians. Indius glanced up at him as she wondered wryly, “Having any second thoughts about not heading back to Ogg?”
Rogers’s expression went distant as he made a show of thinking the question over, only to settle on a simple, “Nah. I like the excitement.” He grinned crookedly. “Besides, someone needs to keep your head above water. May as well be me.”
Indius rolled her eyes, but she didn’t protest. Most of her attention was already back down the hall with the dispatcher. Listening and waiting for anything that she might be able to help with.
“Hey, Chaakwa,” Rogers probed after a moment, voice low so as not to disturb the group clustered around the smart boards.
“Antonio?” she wondered in reply.
“You think all that stuff about it being an invasion is true?” he wondered, drumming his fingers against the edge of Indius’s desk. “I mean, most of the population seems to believe it by now. Some of the evidence is pretty damn compelling.”
Indius was quiet at first, rather than simply spitting out an answer.
(“The EMTs are on their way, miss,” Kelsey said down the hall, voice calm and soothing. “I’ll stay on the line with you until they arrive. You just have to stay calm. Can you do that for me?”)
Finally, Indius drew in a slow breath and sighed it out through her nose. “I’m not sure,” she answered honestly.
“What do we do if it is?” Rogers asked, tapping one heel against the floor. “Just let it run its course?”
“I’m not sure,” Indius repeated, shrugging one shoulder. “It could be an invasion, or at least the earliest stages of one. Or it could be something entirely different. But if it is an invasion?”
Finally, she looked at Rogers, and she could feel a small smile beginning to tug at the corners of her lips. “If it is an invasion, then I feel sorry for the invaders. Hell or high water, I know someone who won’t let anything happen to this planet.”
Undisclosed Location, Estaria
Goran Suedermann pulled aside the off-white net curtain just enough to see that there was movement down the side of one of the other buildings.
“Hey, what did we say about the window?” The voice compelled him to drop the fabric and shuffle back a foot, out of view of the window.
“I’m just looking,” Suedermann responded without any kind of angst. He waited for a few more moments and then ambled back across the room and sat down on the gray, saggy sofa. “I’m sure I saw movement over by the repair shop.” He sighed, taking a sip of his tea.
Joshua checked his holo for the time and then leaned his arm back against the butt of his gun on his waist belt. “There shouldn’t be anything going on in the repair shop this time,” he agreed. “When Alisha gets here, I’ll check it out though. Just don’t go near the windows for me, okay?”
He heaved himself up out of the old uncomfortable chair and headed into the kitchen, stretching his arms above his head.
“Someone coming this way,” Suedermann called out to him.
Joshua was suddenly alert, striding back across the crusty old living room to the door, his weapon already drawn. He pressed his shoulder against the door, pointing his weapon at the floor as he glanced through the spy hole.
It was difficult to see in the dark, but there were definitely two figures heading his way. This was the last thing he needed: a threat to his witness.
As they drew closer, he could see that one was distinctly Estarian, and the other human. He searched his mind trying to think who they might be. Subconsciously he flicked through all the case files that might be related to the Northern Clan, the known associates, and anyone who might know who Suedermann was, even from Suedermann’s own life before the Task Force took him into protective custody.
Then he realized they were both female.
He was drawing a complete blank. On top of that, he noticed, the two women seemed somewhat vulnerable as they scuttled across the big open space towards the safe house door. In terms of a threat assessment, they didn’t look particularly aggressive or competent. What’s more, without hesitating they came up the steps and onto the porch. Both of them. If they were wanting to storm the place, one would have gone around the back.
His mind raced.
Then the security light came on, almost blinding him. He looked away back into the room.
Tap, tap, tap.
The human knocked on the door. He looked back and gave his eyes a second to adjust to the brightness. He could make out more details now. Though her form looked human, her skin color was definitely Estarian blue. It was a strange combination that confused him even more.
“Greetings of the day,” he called politely through the door so as not to be conspicuous in case this event was purely random.
“Greetings,” the human-looking Estarian called back. “You don’t know us, but we’ve just been talking to Director Bates. We’re working on the holoconnection issue, but we need to talk to your colleague in there.”
“It’s just me here,” Joshua lied, trying to assess the situation.
“Your witness rather,” the girl insisted.
Joshua paused. Director Bates may have been talking to them, but he had no way of knowing. The last communication that he had had from her had been earlier that day, and he had even been able to get a message back out to her. His strategy up until this point had been to wait for his partner to come and relieve him at the pre-appointed time.
“We’re also meant to be meeting Alisha here,” the girl added, instantly bolstering her credibility.
He paused, and then after a few seconds of mental analysis, Joshua moved to unlock the door. Cautiously he opened it, and then beckoned the two inside. Keeping his weapon low, he notably didn’t put it away. “Okay, so you seem to know a little bit about what’s going on here, but who the hell are you?”
“I’m Paige,” the human-looking one explained, “and this is Maya. We work closely with Molly and the Sanguine Squadron.”
Joshua felt himself relaxing the moment he realized they were friendly. Then as soon as it sunk in that he was talking to people he’d heard stories about since he was at Molly’s grad school, a different type of anxiety set in. “Oh, well of course, do come in… Please.” He put his gun away hurriedly and set about feebly tidying the place up a little bit.
“Please take a seat, make yourself comfortable. I must say I wasn’t expecting… Well, anyone. We’ve been in holo blackout most of the day.”
“We know,” Maya told him. “We’re working to try and restore connection planet-wide. But we could do with understanding a little bit more about what’s happened.” She glanced at Goran sitting quietly on the sofa. “But we thought that Mr. Suedermann might be of assistance in that regard.”
Goran pressed his index finger at his chest. “Me? How can I help? They’re just network outages.”
“Well,” Maya continued, “how much do you know about why you’re here?”
Goran shrugged. “Only what these guys told me…” he replied, thumbing at Joshua as the representative of the Task Force who had taken his freedom from him “for his own good.”
“Which is?” Maya pressed.
“That because of my position in the government, someone wanted me dead. Probably for access, for my successor.”
Paige looked up at Joshua, who seemed mesmerized by the conversation in front of him. “We’re going to need to tell him a little bit more,” she explained. “If we are right, he’s the only one who’s going to be able to help us undo this mess.”
Joshua waved her on.
Paige sat on the sofa next to Goran and started explaining everything that they knew. Meanwhile Maya took Joshua into the kitchen to fill him in on the bigger picture while he made some mocha for all of them.
“So you spoke to Director Bates then?” he asked.
“Yes, less than an hour ago,” Maya confirmed. “She gave us your location, but also said she was sending Alisha over to talk to Jennifer Etang.”
“Etang? Why would Alisha be going to see her?”
“Well, this is kind of the point,” Maya explained slowly. “We think that this holo blackout is a result of a Trojan horse that’s been sitting waiting to be activated in order to further the interests of the Northern Clan. If you look at the circumstances: the fleet, the vote, and so on, it all makes sense. And they got what they wanted… Martial Law.”
Joshua’s normally bright blue complexion was looking particularly pasty as the blood drained from his face. “You mean this is an all-out conspiracy?”
“Well, yeah. The point is, Etang might have information about the virus. The construction, how it deploys, who built it. Something… We’re hoping.”
Joshua pumped his fist in a half movement. “I knew it!” he declared. “Alisha and I were right! Suck it, Bates!” Then, noticing Maya’s reaction as she stood watching him, he quickly regained his composure and handed her the first mocha that was ready. “Well if there’s anything to discover, Alisha will find it. In the meantime I guess we just need to hang tight and wait for her.”
Maya cocked her head, smiling enigmatically. “Well not entirely. We need to see what Suedermann knows, and we have one of our guys working on a fix as we speak, so we will make some progress before she gets here.”
Joshua’s expression brightened. “Oh, well then.” He grinned. “Let’s get this second mocha into Paige’s hands and you guys can carry on.”
Maya grinned as she followed him back through to the living room where Paige and Goran were talking.
“We don’t have all of the details of this case, because of the blackout,” Paige was explaining to Suedermann. “Would you mind telling us what you did at the Division of Holo Crimes?”
Suedermann leaned forward and nudged his teacup further onto the table before sitting back and exhaling with a small sigh. “Well, it’s been a while now, but I was overseeing the network security. Some of it was to do with scams, but a lot of it was chasing down malware for the most part.”
“So it was more like stopping viruses from proliferating?”
“Yes, that was a big part of it.”
Paige looked pointedly at Maya. “Well that would explain why someone would want you out of the way before this kicked in,” Paige commented.
Maya stepped further into the room and handed Paige the mocha that Joshua just made for her. “Yes, but what I don’t understand is why him. He’s just one person who would be replaced… Who has been replaced, right?”
She looked over at Joshua.
Joshua handed her the mocha that he’d made for her. “Yes, we thought of that. There was someone who would probably have succeeded him had he been assassinated, and we assumed that that person was… compromised.”
“Tell me that person is not standing in for him now!”
“Well we had to put up a fight,” Joshua explained. “But no. We have someone else performing that role while Suedermann is here.”
“But,” Suedermann interjected, “what he’s not telling you is the difference in skill. This other compromised person was the only one who had the same level of skill and experience to do the job. Effectively, the person that they have now is merely a figurehead, with very little practical experience in how to handle a crisis like this… It’s probably why we are still having blackouts.”
Maya suddenly became more curious. “So they wanted you out of the way so you couldn’t fix this problem,” she deduced, her expression becoming more animated.
“Well, I don’t mean to toot my own horn or anything, but I’d say yes.”
Paige put her mocha cup on the table in front of them. “Well in that case, you’re exactly the person we need to talk to,” she said, pulling up a holoconnection.
“Bourne? Are you there?” she called out to her holo.
“Yes, I’m here,” he responded in her earpiece.
“Okay, I’m gonna put you on speaker,” Paige told him. “We’ve located someone who can probably help us solve this problem, and I think you two need to talk.”
Joshua, a touch overwhelmed by the sudden change of pace of things in the safe house, headed back into the kitchen to make himself a mocha. Something told him that this was going to be a long night.
* * *
Several mocha refills after the initial brews that Joshua had brought through, Maya, Paige, Bourne, and Goran were still deep in conversation.
“It looks like this could be an elegant solution,” Bourne was saying.
Goran agreed. “Yes, and it’s much faster than the brute force hack you were having to perform in the first place.”
“Well, it wasn’t entirely brute force,” Bourne protested defensively.
Paige smiled and rolled her eyes, communicating to Joshua her opinions on Bourne’s ego and sensitivity. “It looks like we’ve got a fix in any case. Bourne, any idea on how long it’s going to take to run this fix network-wide?”
“I’ve no idea. The planet’s network is humongous, and some of the networks in the further regions away from the cities are going to run slower. Personal holos probably need specific adaptations to the fix because they are running older protocols.”
“But you can start with Spire for instance,” Maya interjected.
“Yes,” Bourne agreed. “I can do that. And then go to the next cities, and move out from there.”
“So how long until Spire is back online?” Paige asked, seemingly remembering why they were trying to solve this problem in the first place.
“It depends.”
It was Goran’s turn to roll his eyes this time. “Developers!” he mouthed to the others, assuming that it was an organic they’d been communicating with all this time.
Paige screwed up her face and started massaging around her eyes with her hands. “What about us being able to get some messages through to people in the blackout? So rather than just restoring full service, can we at least get messages through, kind of like what you’re doing with us now?”
There was pause on the line. “Yes, and it will only take a tiny amount of processing power away from solving the bigger issue, comparatively speaking.”
“Maybe that’s a way forward then,” Paige suggested, looking at Maya for her agreement. Maya nodded.
“Okay great,” Paige confirmed. “Let’s do it. Maya will put together a message, something short. Then Bourne, you can send it out first perhaps.”
“Alrighty then,” Goran declared, slapping his hands to his knees and then getting up off the uncomfortable sofa. “If you’d be more comfortable, we could move through to the office...”
Paige and Maya got up. “Okay, yes. It would be easier to work at a desk,” Paige agreed.
“Hey, you know, Alisha should probably be back by now,” Joshua told them, checking the time as they moved their holoscreens through to the next room.
Paige thought for a moment. “Hey Bourne, can you make sure that Joshua can get a connection through, so he can check in with the task force, and with Alisha?”
“Yes, one second. Okay, there you go, Joshua. You should be able to get through to the network now.”
Joshua’s face lit up as he checked his holo and saw that everything was working perfectly. “Great, thank you, Bourne. I’ll give her a call now.”
Chapter 10
Safe House, Undisclosed Location, Estaria
Joshua looked up from his partially functioning wrist holo as the main door opened and Alisha breezed through. The door slid closed again immediately, and the complicated lock clicked a few times as it reengaged. Alisha sagged back against the door, letting her head thump back against it. She looked like she was putting some serious thought into just sliding down it and sitting down right there on the floor.
“Long day?” he asked wryly. She poked the tip of her tongue out at him.
“I just got finished with that Etang woman, from Communications.” She sighed, pushing herself away from the door with a visible effort. “Our hopes that she was just playing dumb have been dashed,” she added. “She didn’t know a thing. Less than nothing, in fact. I had to fill her in on everything that’s been going on in the world.”
Joshua whistled low. “An astounding level of ‘out of the loop,’ to be sure.”
“She almost seemed like she was impressed by everything that’s been going on,” Alisha grumbled. “And honestly, I’m not sure if her being a clueless biddy makes me feel better or worse. I mean, really, who just decides ‘oh, sure, I’ll do exactly what this guy says with no idea of what I’m actually doing?’ In what world is that a normal thing?”
“In the world of Jennifer Etang, apparently,” Joshua replied reasonably, and he ducked to the side to avoid the swat that Alisha aimed at his ear. “You asked!” he protested, laughing. He only laughed harder when she scowled at him, her nose scrunching and her eyebrows drawing downwards.
“It just doesn’t make any sense,” she grumbled, before she heaved a sigh and slumped backwards. She was practically lying on the table by then, propping herself up on her elbows. “But I guess it wasn’t a complete bust.” She sighed, letting her head fall back weightlessly.
“She confirmed some things we already suspected, though, so it’s something, at least,” she continued. “She was in the Northern Clan’s pocket, which is large and seemingly never ending. Apparently we’ll never find everyone working for them, blah blah blah, all your bases belong to us, you know how it goes.”
“Spooky,” Joshua deadpanned, propping his chin up in one hand. With a wistful sigh, he mused, “Maybe all the secrecy is because there are actually only like ten of them. Maybe we could actually take all of them out with one well-placed grenade.”
“Their numbers multiply every time you say that,” Alisha stated blandly, and she had to fight a grin when he flicked the side of her knee.
They lapsed into silence after that, but the quiet only lasted for a minute at most.
“Dammit!”
Another voice came from the next room. Alisha looked expectantly towards the door that led into the office. The door was still open, and Paige did not sound the least bit pleased with whatever was going on in there.
“Exciting things?” Alisha asked mildly, hauling herself up from the sofa to head into the kitchen instead.
“Paige and Maya are in there with Suedermann,” Joshua replied, tipping his head back enough that he could just barely get an upside-down look at her as she filled the electric kettle. “They’re trying to get back onto the holo network. See if they can at least get some of the basics back up and running.”
“I thought the network was completely down,” Alisha replied as she turned the mocha machine on and started puttering around the kitchen.
“Kind of,” Joshua replied, and then he wrinkled his nose once he realized how phenomenally unhelpful that was. “Less that the network’s entirely down, and more that it’s kind of…blocked. They’re trying to unblock it. I mean, undoing everything without being able to see the code of the initial upload would be a miracle, but if everyone just gets messaging back, then at least we won’t have entire districts panicking because they don’t even know what’s going on.”
Alisha hummed a low note in acknowledgment and there was a clunk of mugs as she got them out of the cupboard. “People were already doing that even before the blackout,” she pointed out, more to herself than to Joshua.
“Sounds like it’s not going very well,” she observed blandly as she poured chocolate into a mug, while some more slightly incoherent profanity poured out of the office. She kept pouring until the amount of syrup gathered in the bottom of the mug was likely enough to rot her teeth upon contact, and then she added just a little bit more.
“That’s why I’m in here,” Joshua replied sagely. “Well out of the line of fire should anyone start throwing anything.”
“Don’t tempt me!” Paige shouted from the other room.
“You’re not leaving this room,” Suedermann informed her flatly, putting an end to that argument before it could even begin.
Alisha snorted out a laugh as she started pouring mocha over the chocolate. “Well,” she mused after a moment, “at least we still have electricity.” She took a sip of her mocha. “It could be worse.”
“Don’t jinx anything!” Joshua warned her.
As Alisha headed towards the next room, she knocked her knuckles against the table as she passed, nonchalantly offering, “Bad luck canceled,” over her shoulder.
Commander Ekks’s Office, Spire, Estaria
The room was quiet.
Almost too quiet.
Ekks half expected someone to come barging into his office to interrupt him, to tell him that what he was about to do was too much. But he supposed he knew that wasn’t going to happen; he had handled that issue already.
Instead, he was just waiting for one person to arrive.
It didn’t take long before his secretary informed him over his communicator, “Commander, General Yarrow has arrived.”
“Let her in,” Ekks instructed, and he sat taller and straightened his uniform. The door to his office opened just a moment later.
Yarrow was no-nonsense when she entered. Stiff-backed and purposeful, she strode towards the desk. She was holding the black box in her hands: nondescript but with three separate locks on the front of it. She nodded once to Ekks, but otherwise offered him no greeting as she placed the box down.
She keyed in seven digits for the number lock, and a small pad slid out. She pressed a fingertip to it, letting it scan her fingerprint and check her body temperature. Finally, once it made a high-pitched beep, Yarrow rattled off her identification number followed by her authorization code.
The box clicked open.
Yarrow kept one hand on the box, looking at Ekks critically from across the desk. “Commander Ekks,” she began seriously, “the use of this console means you will be authorizing the entire fleet for the use of deadly force, as the fleet commanders see fit. Are you aware of everything this entails?”
“I am aware,” he confirmed, folding his hands together on top of the desk.
“And you are prepared to accept the responsibility of whatever else happens from this point onward?” she asked.
“I am prepared,” he replied.
Yarrow paused for a moment longer before she turned the box to face him and pushed it across the desk towards him. She stepped back after that, pulling her gloves from her pocket as she did and tugging them on.
Ekks reached for the box and pushed the lid up. There was a small console inside, deceptively simple considering the task it had been designed for.
Ekks had to type in three codes, and he had to confirm each one twice. And finally, it was done. He closed the box and pushed it back across the desk to Yarrow.
“Good evening, General,” he offered pleasantly, folding his hands on his desk once again. As an afterthought, he tacked on, “Thank you for your time.”
She eyed him for a moment before she drew in a slow breath and sighed it out once again. Whatever it was she wanted to say, she kept it to herself, and Ekks felt no need to ask her to speak her mind. Her opinion, after all, was irrelevant.
She picked up the box and left after just a moment of lingering. Ekks waited until his door slid closed behind her before he sagged back in his seat, his hands falling to his lap. He let his head fall back against his seat, and he observed the paint job on his office ceiling for a moment.
For such a big step, it had felt so…small.
He had been expecting it to feel more momentous. With some reluctance, he sat up straight once again and pulled his communicator from his pocket.
He knew the number he needed to call off the top of his head, and it rang only twice before Raj Ghetti answered it.
“Commander Ekks,” Ghetti greeted smoothly. “I trust you’re calling to give me good news?”
“I’ve done what you asked of me,” Ekks confirmed, leaning his weight onto one of the arms of his chair. “From here, it all depends on how trigger-happy some of the fleet commanders decide to be.”
“And you’re certain there won’t be any backpedaling?” Ghetti asked. “You know I will be most displeased if we’ve come so far only to have it all fall apart at the last moment. A great many people would be displeased, in fact.”
His tone was mild as he said it.
Pleasant, even.
As if he was discussing a particularly unique cloud.
“I’ve handled the only one who tried to push back hard enough to be a concern,” Ekks replied, just a note of irritation slithering into his voice. While it was almost certain that Ghetti noticed it, he made no efforts to bring it up. Ekks’s ire, after all, was of no consequence to him.
Ghetti hummed a low note, skeptical but at least acknowledging what Ekks was saying. “If you’re certain,” he sighed. “Will there be anything else, Commander?”
“If I may, sir, might I recommend a vacation?” Ekks suggested dryly, drumming the fingers of his free hand against one armrest. “Somewhere in the inner system, of course. I’ve been led to believe that things in the outer system are going to get rather turbulent in the near future, after all.”
Ghetti chuckled in reply, a low, rumbling sound. “Perhaps I will,” he mused. “Regardless, you’ve done good work, Ekks, assuming you can keep it up. We’ll be in touch.”
The line went dead almost immediately after, and Ekks blinked at his communicator for a moment, before slumping back in his seat once again and rolling his eyes. That had been some impressively faint praise.
Still, it was better than the alternative.
He shoved his communicator into his jacket and dragged one hand down his face. For a moment he simply sat there, as the light from the window gradually shifted across his desk. Finally, he levered himself back up to his feet and headed towards his office door.
He was done for the day, he decided. It was time to head home and pour himself a goddamn drink.
Chapter 11
Aboard The Empress, Outer System
Brock’s attention was pulled by a flashing button on his console unit.
“Hey Ruther, man, I gotta go. Looks like something has come up.”
“Okay, no problem, friend. Talk to you soon. I’m off shift in twenty minutes.”
Brock held up his hand in a wave at the screen. “Alrighty,” he confirmed, his thoughts already in another place. He closed the connection with the Zhyn flagship.
“What you got, Emma?”
Emma responded over the cockpit intercom. “Oz is just decrypting the message now, but it looks like we’ve been able to intercept a signal to the Estarian fleet.”
“Oh,” Brock noted, swiveling around his console chair to see if Crash was registering any of this. Do we know what it says yet?”
“I believe Oz is telling Molly what it says now.”
Just then Molly arrived in the cockpit, looking a little disheveled, as if she’d been trying to catch a nap as they waited. “The Estarian fleet is on its way,” she announced. Joel bowled in behind her.
“It sounds like they’ve been given full authorization to engage with what they’re terming the enemy, and anyone who stands in their way.”
There was a deadly silence in the cockpit for a moment as they processed the information.
Brock was the first to acknowledge the implications. “That means that if we stay here, we’re mincemeat.”
Molly shook her head in dismay. “Don’t they realize that the Zhyn ships will destroy them in a heartbeat?”
Joel dragged a hand down the lower half of his face. “Clearly not.”
“Unless that is what the Northern Clan wants?” Molly mused, pacing over to one of the console chairs and sitting down. She spoke slowly, as if thinking her way through it. “If the Estarian ships are obliterated by the Zhyn, for instance, they will then have the support to declare war on the Zhyn Empire. If they’re destroyed by the ARs, then they pretty much write a ticket to do whatever they want.”
Joel scratched his head. “But say they do declare war on the Zhyn Empire, they’d have no chance of winning.”
Joel could see the cogs turning as Molly thought the situation through. “I guess it depends on your definition of win. If the Federation needs to wade in to keep the peace, it could be exactly what they want to get special trade agreements and reparations from them. Not only that, but all the while it gives them a stronger hold on power domestically.”
Brock spun around in his chair. “You’re kidding me? This is all about some fucked up group deciding that they want more power? These are real lives that are going to be ended. We’re going to be ended! Does that count for nothing?”
Molly shook her head grimly. “I’m afraid not. It’s just how these people work.”
“Well then what are we going to do?” he asked, waiting for Molly to give them the magical solution that would get them out of the situation.
“I don’t know,” Molly muttered, getting up out of the chair. “I need to think.” And with that she wandered back out of the cockpit as if in a daze.
Spire Memorial Hospital, Estaria
Something was beeping. Not quietly. Not subtly. It was loud and grating and constant.
He was trying to sleep, goddammit.
Vero squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, as if that might somehow drown out the insistent, shrill beeping. It made no difference, and he clenched his fists in the sheet beneath him.
“Romero?”
The voice was quiet, almost nervous. But familiar. It was coming from somewhere beside him.
But that didn’t make any sense.
He lived alone.
Come to think of it, his bed was supposed to be much more comfortable than whatever slab of concrete he was lying on just then.
Slowly, reluctantly, he cracked one eye open. He closed it again immediately. The lights were too bright, and combined with the white of the walls and the ceiling, it was blinding. A shadow fell over him a second later, and it became apparent that his sister had seen him open one eye, even for such a brief moment.
“Romero!” she hissed urgently, prodding at his shoulder insistently, too cautious to actually shake him.
“Cissy, stoooooppppp,” he groaned, still not entirely awake. His face scrunched when she continued, and finally he opened his eyes. That time, his sister was leaning over him enough to block out the worst of the light.
As he blinked up at her, she stared down at him, eyes wide and worried. Finally, she stopped poking at him like some sort of experiment.
“Romero?” she asked once again, as if she suspected she was looking down at someone else.
“Cicero?” he questioned, in much the same tone. He glanced around, taking note of the guardrails on the bed and the beeping heart monitor beside it. He could feel a tube against his face and a cannula in his nose.
There was an IV in his arm, taped in place.
Hospital. He was in a hospital. But why—?
The memory of the car crash came back to him with almost the same impact as the crash itself. Without even thinking about it, he sat up, so quickly that Cicero had to practically leap away from him.
“Romero, no—” she tried to scold, only to cut herself off when he went still.
He didn’t hurt, at least not quite. Everything just felt…stiff. He hadn’t moved in a while and he could feel it. And he most likely would start hurting soon, once he was disconnected from whatever was dripping into his arm.
“What happened?” he demanded abruptly, like a wind-up doll jerking back into motion.
Cicero wrung her hands together and shifted back and forth on the stiff plastic chair beside the bed. “You were in a car crash,” she informed him, almost matter-of-factly. “There was something wrong with the engine—”
“My car was fine,” he stated flatly, cutting her off. His hands curled into fists against the bed again.
Cicero was watching him fretfully, and he let his hands uncurl and shook his head briefly. “What else?” he asked, already tired again.
“They, uh—the doctors, I mean—took you off life support a few days ago when you started breathing on your own again. And—”
“Out there,” Vero specified, gesturing towards the window with one hand. It was dark out.
Cicero shifted on the chair again. “It’s…been a lot,” she replied carefully, as she picked up the remote for the screen on the wall and turned it on.
As the news played, Cicero outlined everything that had been going on. The blackouts, martial law, the chaos with looting and the rising crime rate as the population panicked, the order for the fleet to keep going.
Vero’s ears rang and his chest felt tight, and for a moment he thought maybe he was going to have a heart attack. But no, that wasn’t it; that would make no sense. He was just so pissed off.
“I need clothes,” he stated abruptly, cutting Cicero off again.
“Well—I mean, I have a bag for you,” she offered tentatively, getting to her feet to fetch the bag from the window seat. “I brought it with me when the hospital first called.”
Vero nodded distractedly in reply and reached for the buzzer to call the nurse. He tapped the button three times in rapid succession and was getting ready for a fourth when a nurse hurried in, looking slightly frantic. Her concern gave way to confusion, though, when she saw that Vero himself was the one to push the button, rather than Cicero.
“You’re awake,” she stated, bemused. “That’s wonderful!” she hurried to add, gathering her composure once again.
“I need to get out of here,” he interrupted quickly, before the nurse could say anything else.
Her expression flattened with displease. “Senator, I really must—”
“You can’t keep me here against my will,” he reminded her. “I’ll sign whatever waivers I need to sign, but I need to get out of here.”
The nurse spent a moment longer trying to scowl him into submission, without any success. Finally, she heaved an aggrieved sigh and stepped towards the bed to remove his IV line and disconnect him from the various monitors.
He wasted no time in getting dressed while she left to get the relevant paperwork. Within ten minutes, he had signed his discharge forms and was heading towards the elevator with Cicero fretting at his heels.
Senate House, Spire, Estaria
A Senate meeting was well underway when Cicero pulled her car to a halt and parked.
“How did you even know they would be in session?” she wondered, folding her arms and slumping in her seat. She already knew she wasn’t going to be going anywhere until the meeting was over; her brother didn’t exactly have his own car anymore.
“I’ve still been getting the schedule updates on my communicator,” Vero answered distractedly as he got out of the car. “I’ll try to hurry things along,” he assured her before he closed the car door and headed for the door at a brisk walk.
He jogged through the familiar halls at a hurried pace, until the door to the boardroom was looming in front of him. He keyed in his identification number to unlock the door and it slid open.
Almost at once, everyone around the table stopped talking and turned to look at him. There was a beat of silence, and then Zenne managed, “Senator Vero.” Surprised, but quietly pleased all the same. “We weren’t expecting you back for quite some time.”
“Yes, well.” Vero stepped into the room. “As soon as I heard about everything that was happening, I knew I couldn’t waste a second languishing in bed.”
He rounded on the Speaker of the House. “I’m fairly sure I never imagined that you’re the Speaker of the House, correct?”
“Of course I am—” the Speaker began to reply, affronted.
Cutting him off, Vero demanded, “Then why have you not been speaking for the house?” He spread his arms and gestured around. “No one in this room wants to go to war. No one in this room thinks it’s a good idea.”
“What if we had been wrong?” the Speaker asked sharply. “What if we had been sitting idle when an invasion came?”
“What if he’s wrong?” Vero shot back, pointing out of the door, as if in the direction of Ekks’s office. “We could spend all day, every day, trying to figure out which ‘what if’ is more likely, or we could acknowledge that starting an unnecessary war with an unknown enemy would be the worst outcome. We can respond to a threat, but we can’t undo a declaration of war. On top of everything that’s happened being eighteen shades of illegal, of course.”
He stomped down the little voice in the back of his mind that reminded him he would be lucky not to be disciplined for berating the Speaker of the House.
The Speaker was silent for a moment before his expression steeled and he turned to face the table again. “All in favor of repealing the previous vote and calling the fleet off of the offensive?”
One by one, each Senator around the table lifted a hand, until each member had a hand raised.
The boardroom seemed charged after that, as if a current had raced through the room as the Speaker, pulling up his holo, managed to connect so he could make a call.
“Commander Ekks, you’re needed in the Senate House. We’ve cast an emergency vote and your presence is required.” His expression twisted as if he had licked a lemon as he listened to the reply, in a manner that suggested Ekks was not pleased. The Speaker made no mention of what the Commander said.
Vero took his seat at the table, his substitute leaving with hardly a backward glance.
They waited in silence until they could hear booted footsteps in the corridor.
The door opened, and Ekks breezed in with all the warmth of a blizzard. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded before the door was even finished sliding closed again. “I made myself rather clear about—”
He stopped talking abruptly, staring at Vero. His lip curled in displeasure for a split second before his expression went neutral again. “Vero,” he greeted tightly. “So good to see you’ve returned to us.”
“Commander,” Vero returned curtly. “I’m sure you’re thrilled.”
The Speaker stepped between them before anything unpleasant could happen, clearing his throat to get Ekks’s attention. “While you were clear on what you wanted last time, we were not,” the Speaker explained, calm and level. “We’ve called you here to rescind the order for the fleet to pursue the ships in the outer system. Until such a time as we have an adequate amount of information on the situation.”
Ekks opened his mouth to protest, only to rethink that decision and close his mouth once again when he was greeted with a dozen expectant stares. He drew in a breath, held it for a second, and sighed it out. “Very well,” he muttered, straightening his uniform and looking away from them.
He opened his holo and promptly connected a call with Admiral Boys. It felt a bit like a production, standing there with the entire Senate watching him make a call.
“Commander Ekks,” the Admiral greeted him warily. “Has there been an update?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Ekks replied waspishly. “The situation has changed enough that it’s been decided the fleet should stand down.”
There was a long, drawn out moment of silence as Boys absorbed that statement, before he swallowed and cleared his throat. “Of course, Commander,” he acknowledged once he gathered his composure once again. His voice seemed to waver nervously. “I’ll be sure to inform the rest of the fleet command team of the change of plans. Is there anything else I should know?”
Ekks hung up the call without saying anything else, and he turned a pointed glare on the Speaker. “Will that be all?” he asked, silken and almost sickeningly pleasant.
The Speaker sighed slowly. “That will be all, Commander. Thank you for your time.”
Ekks turned and stormed from the room without another word. The room erupted into chatter, wary, excited and cautiously hopeful in equal turns. And Vero sagged back in his chair, the adrenaline surge that had carried him there from the hospital finally waning.
He was exhausted.
Aboard The Hierophant
It always seemed tense and eerie on the bridge. As if Grouthe was perpetually waiting for something to happen. His crew was accustomed to it—to the way he paced restlessly and murmured to himself every so often—and he supposed that was a good thing.
They were difficult to distract, if nothing else, and he took a certain amount of pride in that.
But even so, it wasn’t an ideal situation.
“Any noteworthy changes?” he wondered, pausing as he crossed the bridge.
“Not at the moment, sir,” his communications officer replied. “We’ll keep you updated.”
He was at the head of his own ship in the space fleet. He was not supposed to perpetually feel an undercurrent of niggling boredom. It was exactly the sort of thing he had joined the military to avoid.
Grouthe continued pacing.
“Sir?”
He ceased pacing for a split second as his communications officer called to him, though he resumed nearly immediately. “Yes?”
“The ship is being hailed by the Corona. Fleet-wide correspondence. Shall I patch it through?” the officer asked.
“To my holo,” Grouthe instructed, letting his pacing carry him to the command chair, where he sat down.
With a brief nod, the communications officer obeyed.
“This is Fleet Admiral Boys of the Corona. I’ve received orders from Estaria. From this moment forth, the fleet is to stand down,” he instructed. “All offensive actions are to be put on hold and we are to wait for further orders. Is that clear?”
Grouthe could hear a chorus of agreements from the rest of the fleet’s command team. He was the last to agree. “Understood.”
The caller didn’t linger after that as Boys disconnected.
Grouthe closed his holo, looking around the bridge as he did. The rest of the bridge crew hadn’t heard the call. For all they knew, it could have been about anything.
Aboard The Empress, Outer System
Molly sat in the lounge with a cold cup of mocha in front of her. There was a strange quiet on the ship still, probably akin to the atmosphere in the holding cells before people were executed in barbaric societies she’d read about. She had a glazed look on her face, as if she wasn’t quite there. For a moment, as Joel came over, he wondered if perhaps his Molly had been replaced by a porcelain doll, with robotically animated eyelids.
He sat down next to her. “I thought you weren’t meant to be drinking that stuff?” he commented, indicating the cup on the table in front of her.
Molly looked up at him as if pulled from the depths of her thoughts. “I’m not,” she informed him. “I just like it there for comfort. And for the smell,” she confessed meekly.
Joel smiled. “Any thoughts about our predicament?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. Oz and I have been working on various combinations to keep us out of harm’s way and stop this from happening, but nothing concrete yet.”
Joel gazed at the table. “It’s okay,” he told her. “You’ll think of something. You always do.”
Molly sighed. “Afraid I may be about to disappoint this time,” she told him quietly, glancing across the lounge at Jack, Sean, Pieter and Karina distracting themselves with a game of cards. “Worst-case scenario, if we have to, Oz thinks that he may be able to adapt shields so that it pulls any missiles from a 180° angle and explodes them against the shields. In this way we can stop a barrage, for a short time at least, from hitting any of the Zhyn fleet. Then it’s a case of how many missiles there are and how many the shields can take. Oz is running the calculation now, but otherwise we’re done.”
Joel frowned for a moment. “Those kinds of adaptations would need physical changes made to the shields. Before we took off…”
Molly held his gaze.
“You already made the adaptations?”
She nodded. “Brock did, days ago.”
“You knew this might happen? And you knew this was an option?”
“I think we all did, if we were honest with ourselves.”
Joel blinked at her in disbelief. “You made those adjustments without even mentioning it to me.”
Molly shrugged. “I hoped it wouldn’t come to this. No point in having the team dwell on this possibility for weeks. They’d only have been anxious and worried all this time, and wasted the time that they had. The time that we had.”
He took a deep breath. “I suppose you’re right. Of course. Would have been nice to not be in the dark though…”
Molly placed a hand on his knee. “I just didn’t want to do that to you. Not knowing that you would insist on being on this ship when the shit hit the fan.”
He nodded slowly. “I understand.” Then he set his jaw. “But know this: I believe in you. I have faith that you’ll come up with something. I know you, Molly Bates, and even if you don’t, I don’t regret following you here. Not for one second.”
Just then Molly jerked her head, as if someone was talking in her ear. Joel waited, watching her expression change in a way that he couldn’t quite interpret.
“It’s Oz,” she said finally. “He’s intercepted another signal.”
Joel’s eyes widened in fear. “What is it? What’s happening?”
Molly’s brow dipped slowly as she processed what she had just heard. “I think they’ve been told to stand down,” she explained. “It was a message from the flagship to one of their other ships. They were told to stand down.”
Joel’s expression of fear turned to one of elation. “You’re serious?” he asked, barely believing his ears. “Are you sure?”
Molly nodded slowly. “Yeah, I think so,” she confirmed.
He pointed towards the others. “We should tell them.”
Molly nodded her confirmation, and Joel got up to go and talk to them. “Hey guys…” he called across the lounge. “Good news. We’re not going to die!”
Molly got up from her seat as if her legs just carried her automatically. She made her way through to the cockpit to share the news with the rest of the crew. As she left the lounge, she heard the others laughing and backslapping, relieved at the new information.
Suedermann Safe House, Undisclosed Location, Estaria
Paige came through from the office. She sighed but her face looked brighter. “Looks like we’ve cracked it!” she announced. “Bourne is just rolling out the fix, but he’s confident that within a few hours we will have regained full control of the holo network. We can expect full service to be restored shortly after that.”
Alisha got up from her slumped position on the sofa. “That’s brilliant news.” She grinned.
Joshua hauled himself out of his chair as well. “I’ll say. No idea what we would have done without you.” He beamed down at Paige from his lofty six-foot-something height.
Paige almost started to blush. “Well it was a close call,” she admitted. “Thank goodness Bourne was on hand to help us out with it.”
“Well it sounds like all the rumors about the Sanguine Squadron are absolutely true,” Joshua remarked. “How about we celebrate with another mocha?” He started moving out of the kitchen.
Alisha interjected. “I’m sure I saw a pack of beers in the back of that fridge,” she called after him.
“Ah, well, beer then?” he offered Paige.
Paige shook her head. “No thank you. We’re going to have to get going. We’ve been away too long already, and it looks like Bourne can do the rest without us being physically here.”
Just then Maya and Suedermann emerged from the office, both of them looking exhausted. “I’ll take a beer,” Suedermann said, catching the last bit of their conversation. “I’ve nowhere to be tonight. Or any other night for that matter.” He grinned playfully at his wardens.
“Alisha?” Joshua offered.
“Sure, why not. We can celebrate and toast to them in their absence.”
Joshua disappeared through to the kitchen. “Two beers coming up then.”
Alisha shuffled up closer to Paige and Maya. “Really, thank you. I saw the task force today before I came out here. They were in chaos with the holo problem. If it wasn’t for you, this probably wouldn’t be sorted for several weeks… And things were really starting to come apart at the seams within a few hours. I do believe that you probably averted a crisis down here.”
Maya grinned. “Just doing our jobs, ma’am,” she shot back with a cowboy-like tilt of her head and a pretend cap.
The three of them giggled. “Well, I for one haven’t seen anything that complicated for a while,” admitted Suedermann. “But I was glad to get the old gray matter moving again.” He tapped his head. “Feels good to be useful.”
“And we couldn’t have done it without you,” Paige added. “Thank you, Goran, you’ve been incredibly helpful. I just hope that this means that you’ll be able to go home soon. You know, once we know it’s safe.”
Goran bobbed his head. “That would be nice,” he admitted. “But goodness knows where to find time to do my job again. I mean between my busy schedule of playing solitaire and watching my shows on my holo, I just don’t know if I’ll be able to fit it in!”
Maya chuckled. “I think I heard something similar from my dad after he retired. He used to say he didn’t know where he ever found time to have a job.”
Paige looked a little skeptical for a moment. “Well from what I heard about your father, I don’t think he ever fully retired.”
“You could be right,” Maya confirmed. “I think he tried to keep most of it from my mom, but we suspected.”
Joshua reappeared and handed open bottles of beer to Alisha and Goran.
“Okay,” Paige piped up. “That’s our cue to leave. Thank you for everything. You have our holo addresses in case anything else comes up. Goran, thank you again. Alisha, Joshua… I hope we’re together again sometime.”
“Me too,” agreed Joshua. “Only hopefully in better circumstances.”
Paige grinned, waving over her shoulder as she headed to the front door. “We can but hope,” she agreed.
Maya turned and waved to the others as well, and a few seconds later they were gone out of the door and disappearing into the half-light of the coming morning.
Chapter 12
Aboard The Hierophant
“Patch me through to the main battery,” Grouthe commanded almost as soon as he got off the line from Admiral Boys.
“At once,” his communications officer replied, and in just a moment, Grouthe was on his holo again.
At first, he gave no orders, simply letting the call stay quiet as he got up from his seat to peer over the pilot’s shoulder. Finally, as an unsure “Sir?” came across the line from the weapons specialist, Grouthe nodded once, coming to a decision.
“Fire.”
“As you command,” the warrior on the other end of the line responded.
At first, it almost seemed as if nothing happened.
While he was sure the main battery was abuzz with activity, the bridge was still calm. Some of the older ships in the fleet still rumbled from bow to stern whenever the weapons fired, but Grouthe was not in command of one of those outdated behemoths.
“On screen,” he stated after a moment, and the sensor readings cleared, making way for the primary virtual window, just in time to watch the first bout of missiles sail silently through the dark.
In stark silence, he watched them strike their target. After a moment, he observed quietly, “Quite a sight, isn’t it?”
Estarian-Ogg Space Fleet, Outer System
The Hierophant’s missiles cruised through the darkness and struck their mark, and a moment later, all hell broke loose in response.
The Chimera fired next, followed in quick succession by The Cockatrice, The Omen, The Pyrrhic, and The Wyvern.
The Hierophant was firing its second barrage by then, and it was more than enough to break through even the most advanced shields.
Only two other ships joined in, The Thanatos and The Paladin firing a few pot shots of their own as if they didn’t want to be left out of whatever the action was.
It wasn’t the whole fleet by any means, but when it was focused on a single target, it may as well have been a thousand ships firing.
After The Hierophant’s second barrage, only The Omen and The Thanatos fired a second round.
Even that was overkill, as the deed was done by then.
The stillness afterwards made it seem as if the ships involved were silently acknowledging that it had happened and there was no sense in doing anything else.
Aboard The Empress, Outer Sark System
Joel came bounding into the cockpit just as a second blast erupted against the shields. Bewildered by the sudden attack, he stumbled and caught himself on the railing just about head height.
“I thought they were going to stand down?” he shouted over the noise, shifting immediately into crisis mode. “What’s happening?”
Molly stumbled over towards him, catching herself on a console chair as the ship’s gravitational dampeners rocked back to their equilibrium. She tried to speak quietly so as not to distract Crash and Brock, who were frantically pressing buttons and dealing with the systems in order to maintain the shields and seal off one of the areas that had been hit in the first blast.
“That’s what we understood,” she told him, “but it seems that either one of the ships didn’t get the memo or they are acting on their own.”
“You mean they have another Northern Clan plant on board?”
“And controlling the ship or the weapons. Possibly,” she told him. “Not that it matters now, because four ships around that ship have their weapons at the ready as we speak even though we haven’t returned fire.”
“Surely they can see that something is not right?”
“Maybe. Maybe they are in on it, or maybe they just can’t tell amongst everything.”
“Damn protocols,” Joel exclaimed in frustration. “And damn commanders who can’t think for themselves!”
Molly shot him a glance. “Words I never thought I’d hear Joel say…”
Joel smiled at her briefly, despite the situation they faced.
“Lower bulkhead sealed off,” Brock reported. “That should be okay as long as the shields hold. As soon as we get a pressure differential down there though…” His voice trailed off.
“Well done,” Molly told him. “Shields status?”
“Seventy percent,” Brock called back over the noise of the blasts against their shields.
“Has the shield adaptation been activated?” Joel asked quietly.
She nodded. “Nothing is getting through to the Zhyn fleet. At least not while we’re here.”
“Damn right,” said Brock proudly, interrupting the conversation he was eavesdropping on, despite his massive focus on the controls in front of him. “This baby is going to take every last missile or laser fire in a two-kilometer radius.”
Molly glanced at Joel, noticing his reaction. “Well let’s hope this barrage stops in time. Before we get annihilated, that is,” Joel added.
Molly pressed her lips together. “I agree. But just in case, Brock,” she called, “alert the Zhyn to the situation. Let them know not to fire unless they need to protect themselves.”
“You mean unless we explode?”
“Exactly.”
“Communicating now.”
“So,” Molly said, moving half a step closer to Joel and leaning in. “Do you regret ever meeting me for that drink when I was kicked out for my 4077?”
Joel smiled at her, remembering that first reintroduction to the world of Molly Bates…
Chapter 13
I remember.
Oz, you remember everything.
Yes, but… it was the first real conversation we had as well… Hey, just because I’m non-organic, doesn’t mean I’m not sentimental too…
(Five years previously…) Chenz’ Bar, Downtown Uptarlung. Irk’n Quarter
Remind me why we’re here again.
Remind you? I never told you.
I’m using your syntax to smooth our integration.
Oh, really?
I detect sarcasm.
Yeah, and I never had to utter a word out loud.
Neural connections, baby. I feel you.
Don’t be a wanker.
The AI was silent.
That reminds me…you don’t have a name.
You mean a designation? Sure I do. I am Project Ozimandaus 0922.
That’s not a name.
Yes it is. That’s what your colleagues, Sue and Dickwad-Charles, called me.
Yeah, but that’s not a name. Not like “Sue” or “Charles,” or “Molly.” They were referring to the project. Not you. Plus, it’s a fucking mouthful to say, and no way I’m going to remember that.
I’m not a Sarkian of any variety, and therefore I don’t require a Sarkian designation.
But you are sentient, and you deserve a name.
Even though I hijacked your holo?
AND neural cortex.
Yes. Even though I hijacked your holo and neural cortex?
Yes, even though. Have you got any ideas about what you’d like me to call you?
Baby? Sexy? Hot stuff? Bad boy???
What the fuck?
Molly scrambled in the recesses of her mind trying to recall why he might know those words. They sounded familiar. Shit, they were how she would refer to her crushes. How would he have access to that kind of data?
All right, you arseburger, what gives? What makes you say those things?
I’m just kidding around. To be honest, I haven’t thought about it. What would be an appropriate designation for something like myself? Is there a nomenclature that is relevant here? Or a social convention?
Hmm… not really. I guess my preference would be to give you something easy for me to say, and to communicate with others when the time comes to introduce you to people. Also, I like the idea of using your project designation in a name.
Molly’s eye scanned the crowded bar, looking for inspiration. Nothing at all jumped out at her.
What about “Oz”?
Oz?
It’s short for Ozimandaus—which is actually a cool name too. Maybe that can be your Sunday name.
Sunday name?
Yeah, like your full name for formal occasions.
Molly mulled it over, imagining what Oz the AI might even look like. For a moment, she pictured the ridiculous Holly on that ancient show she used to watch as a kid…what was it called? Red Dwarf? Yes. Red Dwarf—with the folks who had the hilariously melodic accents. Thank goodness Grandpa had downloaded all those cultural pods before he and Nana had left on the QBBS Meredith Reynolds all those years ago.
Okay. I like it. “Oz” it is, then.
Great. So, Oz, the reason we are here is because we need to make money. And fast.
What about that trust you have set up? That could keep us going for a century or more.
How do you know about that?
I did a search on you. Once we were off base and I was hooked up to the XtraNET, I just scanned for anything that had your DNA or retinal print attached to it. Turns out it’s the optimum way to find all the recorded information on someone, no matter what their species.
You’ve been looking me up? And not just me by the sounds of it!
I think it’s logical for me to know all parameters of operation—including who I’m associating with.
“Associating with”? You jumped into my fucking holo!
Your sentiment is noted.
Anyway. That trust is private and all sorts of alarms go off if I go near it. I don’t want to touch it. Not yet. We need to find another way to make money independently.
Acknowledged. The trust is off limits.
Yes. Off. The. Record. Like I said, it’s private. I don’t want anyone else knowing about it. Okay?
Okay.
So, I have a serious question. How come you’ve not come up with a plan to tap into the Central Systems’ trade market, and just syphon funds from there? I mean, you’re an AI with frickin’ uber amounts of intelligence. It wouldn’t be hard to bypass some security and take a little from a lot of trades—no one would even miss it.
Ah, but Molly Bates…that would be unethical. And you’ve forbidden me from doing anything unethical. EVER.
What? What are you talking about? I never said that.
Sure you did. When I was going to cyber-blackmail that colonel back at the base, you went off on a moral trip making me swear to never do anything like that.
That was for them. Not for me. I never meant you were supposed to be all moral and shit when it came to what we needed to do.
I don’t understand the differentiation. Please clarify.
Molly recognized the man who had just walked in the door and who was now looking around the tables. She stuck her hand in the air, waved vigorously and slid out of the booth to stand up.
Joel is here, asswipe. This conversation isn’t over.
* * *
Former Captain Joel Dunham wandered over to the table. He was buff and large. In fact, much larger than Molly remembered.
>>> “Yeah, I was kinda surprised by that,” Molly confessed over the sound of the explosions hitting the shields.
>>> “Well, you hid it well. I had no idea that was what you might have been thinking. Mind, I was probably distracted by some thoughts of my own,” he confessed.
Joel smiled at her, looking her up and down.
“Long time, stranger!” She grinned.
“Hello, Geek-brain!” he said, wrapping his bear-like arms around her. He squeezed her tight.
Molly tapped his back, signaling her surrender.
“Sorry!” he said, realizing that his enthusiasm had gotten the better of him. “I forget how delicate you girlies are.”
Molly suspected there was something loaded in that statement, along the lines of him not having much contact with women these days. She didn’t have the inclination to ask, though.
“There’s something different about you though…” He held her out by the shoulders, looking her up and down again.
“I’ve lost weight?” She looked hopefully up at him.
He shook his head. “Something else.” He paused and looked at her face. “Didn’t you used to be a brunette?”
Molly’s cheeks slowly revealed her embarrassment. “Yeah. One of my genetic experiments is taking longer to wear off than I had anticipated.”
Joel howled with laughter while pointing at her hair. “How much longer?” he asked, catching his breath.
“Two years, three months and nineteen days. It was meant to self-correct in three months, but, well...”
“You miscalculated?”
“No, tequila,” she admitted.
“You were drinking?”
“No, I used tequila as the carrier fluid.” She eyed her friend in annoyance. “I was impatient and it was handy.”
Joel was still snickering, and shook his head at her. “Same ol’ Molly, I see.” She rolled her eyes…both at herself and the familiarity Joel had with her sagas.
She pushed a chair out for him, and sat herself down.
“Anyway, good to see you, fuckwit. I ordered you a beer.” The waitress arrived with their drinks, and Molly was quick to get her lips around hers. “You still drink this stuff, right?”
“Of course, and thank you. So, to what do I owe this pleasure?” he asked.
She played with her bottle before looking at him. “I’ve left the military, and I need a job.”
She didn’t say more, and allowed Joel to absorb it. He lowered his eyes to his bottle.
“A job, you say? Genius-girl Molly Bates has come to me for a job?” He looked back up at her, clearly amused at the irony. “You know, all the time you were assigned to our detail, there never once was a problem that you couldn’t solve. The boys would swear you were a witch, or a freak, or something. I just told them you were an evil genius. They called you ‘devil-woman’ behind your back, did you know that?”
“I knew.” She smiled, completely uninterested in what some meatheads thought of her.
Joel continued, “And yet you’d keep going back to the research core.” He asked her a question that he had wondered about from time to time, “Why did you never join an ops team?”
She shrugged. “Dunno. Guess I just felt more comfortable not having to make life and death decisions all the time.” She looked around before returning to her beer. “I’ve made a few mistakes in my life already. I found out that sometimes I act before I think, and sometimes even when I think, I don’t always think like normal people.”
Because I’m broken.
Joel waited a moment before asking, “And that’s why you want a job now? So you don’t have to put all that talent to good use?” Joel took a sip of his beer.
Her grin spread across her face, looking a little mischievous. “Oh, no, I’m happy to put my immense reservoirs of talent to good use. I just want you to help direct it for me at the moment!”
Joel’s squaddies often found her arrogant, but Joel knew better. He understood her weird humor, even though he didn’t get it half the time. He put it down to the whacked-out ancient shows she would watch. Fokk knows where she got those datastreams from, though. One of the engineers had once told him they were from a time long forgotten in the Sark System.
“So, a job, for your talents…that pays beer money.” He pointed to the drink that she’d already almost drained. He rubbed his chin, pretending to think deeply.
What he couldn’t do with her talents!
“And it has to be, uh, legal,” she added, remembering that at some point she also needed to find a way of reprogramming Oz to make sure she wouldn’t be too restricted by his newfound morality.
Joel’s eyes opened wide. “Legal? What do you think I am? I’m an upstanding Sarkian, I’ll have you know!” His mock indignation made them both giggle.
Molly knew he was mostly straight-laced when it came to the jobs he would take. But there was no denying that the circumstances under which he had left the service had left a few people wondering.
Joel pursed his lips. “I have some ideas. A friend came to me the other day about something he noticed that was going down in his company: price-fixing on a type of painkiller that thousands of Oggs and Estarians need. Said there were whispers of hiking the prices to three times their market value, just because they can. He wanted a way to stop it without involving official channels or losing his job.”
He continued, waving off the waitress asking him if he wanted another beer. “I didn’t know how to fix it; I don’t have the tech skills to tackle something like that. And taking on a big corporation? Who’s going to listen to me? Not the police, that’s for sure. But now,” he glanced at her, “now you’re here. And I wonder if we can’t take this job and do some good things for these folks?”
Molly used her sultry voice, and her eyes glinted with glee. “Sounds like my cup of tea. Tell me, will there be hacking?”
Joel had worked with her long enough to know that hacking turned her on. Shit, she is one weird chick… “Oh, there will be hacking, baby. There will be lots and lots of hacking.”
As he smiled, his awareness seemed to drift off. When he refocused, he dropped his eyes to his beer. “You know, I never did apologize for the thing with Candy.”
Molly did a double take, trying to work out what he was talking about.
He lifted up his bottle to point at her. “You remember. The girl you said had several guys in the squad in tow.” He took a sip. Molly nodded, recalling the bust-up. “I just wanted to say, I appreciated you looking out for me. I mean, I know it was a big thing then and we didn’t exactly part as close as we had been. But, I’m sorry I was a jackass about it.”
Had Molly been drinking at that exact moment she may have choked. “Well, er, that’s great. I mean, yes, I was. I just didn’t want her to make a fool out of you.” She hesitated. “While we’re on the subject. I have something to apologize for too.” She noticed that Joel had looked up.
“You remember that club we went to not long after that?”
“Yeah, the gay bar where you got called away for some lab crisis?” Joel recollected the night.
Molly looked at him, hoping that she wouldn’t have to say it.
“There was no crisis, was there?” Joel figured out. “And you knew it was a gay bar?”
Molly kept her face straight. “And I paid Jose, my friend on the door, to encourage the guys to, erm, keep you company.”
Joel’s face dropped.
“You mean…”
“Yeah. They didn’t find you that magnetic. They were having you on.”
He closed his eyes in a grimace. “You are a cold-hearted bitch!” he groaned.
“Now, now, you just tried to make good about Crystal.”
“Candy.”
“Whatever.”
“I genuinely tried to get out of there without letting anyone feel rejected. I fretted about that for days! I even wondered if…” He stopped himself, realizing there was some information he didn’t want to share with Molly.
They looked at each other and couldn’t help but chuckle.
Joel finally admitted. “One of them told me I should go into modeling.”
“Yeah, model airplanes maybe!” Molly retorted.
The two laughed. Just like they had done back in the day, before Candy had gotten between them.
He drained his glass, dropped some credits onto the table for the drinks, and stood up.
“Lemme talk to my contact and see what we can set up in terms of this job. I’d say ‘stay sober,’ but stay by your phone, at least. I’ll get back to you soon.”
And with that he headed out of the bar.
>>> Oh my ancestors! I’d forgotten about the Crystal saga!
>>> Candy! And anyway, what I never told you was that I was only trying to use her to get your attention. If I’m honest… and since this is it, I feel like this is the time to be honest.
* * *
The two stood in the cockpit, with everything crashing all around them, occasionally being jolted against each other, and sometimes apart. Each time, they came back together, spontaneously as if they were on some kind of self-correcting buoyancy system.
“Do you ever regret anything?” Joel asked.
Molly felt herself struggling to find the words to say everything that came to her mind.
“More specifically,” he added, helping her out, “about us?”
She could barely dare hope he meant what she thought he meant. “I do,” she confessed.
A smile crept across his face as he grabbed her hand and squeezed it tight. “That’s enough for me,” he whispered in her ear.
Aboard The Empress, Outer Sark System
“Shields at thirty percent,” Brock announced to the cockpit that was now crowded with the entire team watching the events unfold on the main screen together.
The rest of the ship had gone dark when auxiliary power kicked in, in order to maintain main power to the shields.
Red lights flashed, illuminating the cockpit in the danger signal.
Karina reached for Sean’s hand as she braced against impact as another missile hit the shields.
“We’re not going to be able to take many more of those,” Sean commented above the noise and chaos. He watched Molly for a reaction, but she continued to watch the screen intently, mouthing numbers to herself as if making calculations that might potentially help them.
He felt Karina lean closer to him as she got her balance. “Did you ever think it would end like this?” she asked.
He started to shake his head, but then held her closer and put on his dry comic face. “Actually, I thought there would be more sex in the end…”
She sniggered and slapped against his chest as he squeezed her. “I’m glad I’m with you,” she told him. “We’ve all gotta die somehow, sometime. I’m just glad I’m with you.”
“Me too, baby.” He kissed her head and pulled her tight, as if trying to shield her from the inevitable. Or at least shield her from seeing the inevitable when it happened.
“Brace! Brace! Brace!” Crash called to them again as he spotted another missile heading their way.
A moment later the ship was battered again and tilted on its side. The internal gravity dampers took a few moments to kick in, leaving the crew to be thrown to one side of the ship.
There were shouts and screams as they were caught off guard, and then scrambled to help each other up again.
Jack managed to catch hold of Pieter, deftly preventing him from smacking his head against one of the utility units jutting out of the wall. “Thanks!” he called above the noise.
Jack smiled at him. “Any time, friend.”
The two held each other’s gaze for what could have only been a moment in the chaos, but felt like an eternity in their perception of time and expanded awareness. Each was grateful for the comfort of connection as they awaited their fate. Jack threw her arm around his shoulder and they stood together, feeling stronger together and as a part of a team, watching the details on the main screen again.
“Shields at two percent!” Brock announced over the crashing of kinetics and the scream of sirens.
Knowing now that there was nothing else he could do to divert any more power to the shields, he got up out of his console chair and moved over to Crash ’s console. He laid a hand on Crash’s shoulder. Crash turned and looked up at him and nodded, a lifetime of understanding and compassion streamed between the two.
Brock’s eyes teared up.
Crash pushed the final buttons on his console and then stood up out of his pilot’s seat and looked around at the crew. The crew he had served with the last several years. The crew who he could never imagine ever leaving. The crew that he was prepared to go to his death with.
He looked across at Molly and nodded, the chaos, the flashing lights, sirens, the destruction all disappearing into the background.
He wrapped an arm around Brock as another missile hit the shields, throwing them all off balance again.
Pieter’s eye was caught by one of the consoles he fell against. “The bulkhead breach is failing. The fuel core has been hit. This is it,” he announced.
Molly looked around at her team, making eye contact with any of them that could see her. She noticed Jack and Pieter holding onto each other, Karina and Sean doing the same, and then she felt Joel putting his arm around her and pulling her close.
She watched as an explosion rippled out against the remaining part of the shield meters in front of them beyond the window. She watched as if in an altered state of consciousness and awareness as the final segment of the shield failed. The explosion was green and blue and electrical in nature as the missile created a fission reaction in the vacuum of space.
The pupil of her eye dilated as the reflection of the explosion spread out across its glassy surface… the last thing that eye would ever see.
Aboard The Corona, (Estarian Flagship)
“Admiral Boys!” The technician’s voice was sharp with alarm, and her fingers flew across the terminal in front of her. “We have a problem, sir.” The tone of her voice alone made it clear that her statement may well have been the biggest understatement of the millennium.
“Multiple calls incoming,” the communications officer chimed in.
“Keep them on hold,” Boys replied, his eyebrows furrowing together in bewilderment. At last check, the order he had given had not been that complicated.
As the sensor readings continued with the explosion of activity, Boys didn’t need to issue any orders to see what was going on. The technician cleared the sensor data away without prompting, instead bringing up the primary virtual window. Abruptly, it was as if the bridge had a front row seat to the entire ordeal.
It seemed to go in slow motion at first, as Boys tried to process what he was looking at in that horrible moment.
“What in my ancestors’ name is going on?” Boys demanded to no one in particular as he surged out of his seat so quickly he very nearly stumbled over his own feet. “Patch me through to Grouthe,” were the next words out of his mouth.
“O-of course,” his communications officer stammered, already keying in the call.
“Grouthe!” Boys barked into his wrist holo as soon as the call connected, on his feet and watching the scene in front of him with a fixed, sick fascination. “I gave you a direct order to stand down!”
“So you did,” Grouthe agreed, his tone quiet and light. He sounded perfectly reasonable in that moment. Almost pleasant.
Boys recoiled, jerking his communicator out to arm’s length when Grouthe simply hung up on him. He blinked dumbly at the communicator as he rapidly tried to put the pieces together.
“Sir?” his communication’s officer asked, his voice pitched up half an octave higher than usual with nerves. “What do we do?”
“Patch me through to the command team,” Boys demanded, turning away from the digital window. “All of them, this instant.”
His communications officer launched into frenzied activity to connect the call, as if being quick might somehow undo what had happened.
In just a moment, Boys was all but snarling into his holo. “I issued a direct order to stand down. What part of that was unclear? Further failure to comply will result in disciplinary action!”
He got a flurry of panicked responses in return, everyone talking over everyone else. If nothing else, it meant Boys got an explanation—Grouthe had fired first, and considering his influence, other ships in the fleet had simply assumed that a new order was in the process of being issued—but there was no way to un-fire a missile barrage.
There was no way to fix what had been done.
Boys turned to look at the digital window again. He couldn’t help but to be glad of the silence of space in that moment. There were some things he simply didn’t want to force himself to hear.
“Sir?” his pilot asked carefully. “What now?”
For a moment, like a deer bumbling into a set of headlights, Boys simply stood there.
It was a very good question.
Chapter 14
Aboard Glock’stor Ship #597
The pilot kept up a steady stream of chatter with the navigators.
Ruther and Trev’or rambled back and forth to each other just as much as they always did. On top of that, Gultorra had turned up on the bridge to drop off a report, and then lingered to catch up with Clor. He leaned casually against the side of the command chair as they spoke.
It was an almost unusually normal day, all things considered.
At least until it wasn’t.
“The Estarian fleet is firing, sir.” The technician sounded bemused as he reported the update, his head cocked to one side as he stared at his terminal. “Or rather…a portion of it is?”
He didn’t sound alarmed, though, so Admiral Clor was calm as he commanded, “On screen, then. Let’s see what they’re up to.” He was fairly willing to assume that any amount of firing was, at the very least, not good news, especially considering how close the fleet was at that point.
He was not ready for the sight that greeted him as the virtual window lit up. A hush fell over the bridge as the crew watched the fleet bombard Molly’s ship. The shields crackled and sparked at first, until eventually they gave out under the onslaught. Like a cascade of light, the shield retracted, almost seeming to evaporate.
No matter how unpleasant, though, all eyes stayed locked on the sight in front of them. It would have been an insult to look away.
Gultorra stood rigidly beside the command chair. Trev’or was clutching at the edges of his terminal so tightly that Clor could hear his nails digging at the metal. Clor’s fingers tightened around the armrests of his chair until his hands hurt.
“Sir, what do we do?” Ruther asked, his hands hovering anxiously over his terminal, as if he could do anything on his own. “What can—can we do anything?”
Clor didn’t answer immediately, mentally going over ideas and just as quickly discarding them, before he finally admitted, “I don’t think there’s anything we can do.” His voice was low as he admitted it, but he may as well have been shouting it.
Once the shields were gone, Molly’s ship didn’t last long. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing would be a constant debate from that point onwards.
With each strike after that, pieces of the hull flew off, breaking apart like chips of confetti and drifting silently away. Until finally a missile struck the engine room. The middle of the ship expanded outwards for a fraction of a second, like a balloon with too much air, just before the ship fractured in half and burst away from each other with a few geysers of plasma and gas that burned out as quickly as they erupted. Countless shards of shrapnel, each as big as a scouting ship, broke off and drifted away. Lights flickered in the ship’s gaping interior, until they went out in clusters.
Finally, the wreckage was dark. The missile barrage halted as if it had never happened in the first place.
The calm afterwards seemed unfair, as if the cosmos was trying to pretend that nothing had happened. As if it had simply been business as usual.
Had someone dropped a stylus on Clor’s bridge in that moment, it would have been louder than a gunshot. No one moved or said a word, as if the entire crew was waiting for it to be declared as a joke. As if breaking the silence was the only thing that would make it real.
Finally, Gultorra put a hand on Clor’s shoulder. “Sir.”
Clor jerked as if he were coming out of a trance, turning sharply to look at Gultorra.
“What now, sir?” Gultorra asked simply, though it was not a simple question by any stretch of the imagination.
Nevertheless, it gave the Admiral something else to focus on. He took a breath and let it out.
He turned his attention to Ruther. “Connect a call to the command team,” he ordered, his voice still low.
If Ruther heard the Admiral’s words, he gave no sign of it, and Trev’or had to reach over and swat his shoulder. It still took a moment for Ruther to jerk his attention back to the present, hands still poised over the front of his terminal. “Sorry, sir?”
“The command team,” Clor repeated slowly. “Connect a call. I need to explain what just happened.”
“Ah—r-right. Of course, sir,” Ruther agreed, before he turned all of his attention to tapping out commands at his terminal with an almost single-minded focus.
Clor used the time it took Ruther to set up the call to figure out what he was supposed to say to explain the entire ordeal.
Paige’s Office, Base, Gaitune-67, Sark System
Paige sat quietly in her office, working through the hundreds of things that had been neglected when she and Maya went to the surface. She tapped curiously on one holoscreen and then another making sure that the most urgent and important things were handled. Having been up for close to thirty-six hours straight at this point, she felt wired and suspected she was going to be unable to sleep.
Just a couple more, she promised herself, and then she would call it a night.
Bourne interrupted her flow of concentration.
“Paige? There’s a holo message come through. It’s from Emma.”
“You mean from The Empress?” Suddenly Paige’s backlog of work paled into insignificance. “What news is there? Do they need anything?”
“No,” he told her solemnly. “No, it’s not that. They don’t need anything. I believe you’ll want to be sitting down.”
There was a long pause.
“Bourne, I am sitting down.” She felt her anxiety rising. “Can you send me the message please?”
Bourne released the message to her holo. Her hand trembling now, she flicked it open and scanned the contents.
Maya appeared in the doorway. “Hey, I thought you were going to bed soon…?” Maya noticed Paige’s gray complexion. “Are you okay?”
Paige shook her head slowly. She looked as though she had been hit in the chest. Gasping for air, she managed to tell her that Emma had messaged.
Maya hurried over and took the holoscreen that was in Paige’s hand. She read it and staggered back a little, catching herself against the desk.
“It can’t be true,” she rejected. “It must be a mistake. Emma must have written this just in case and then programmed it to send in the event of the unthinkable… But she must have had some kind of systems failure. You’ll see, they will be back here in a few hours totally fine.”
Her face and mannerisms told a completely different story though.
She looked at Paige and watched a single tear trickle down the side of her face. It looked like Paige was in too much pain to even cry. She knew that feeling too.
The two girls remained in silence, barely moving, trying to make sense of the communiqué:
Dear Paige and Maya,
If you’re reading this, then we’ve been destroyed. It all happened very fast, and no one suffered physically. Rest assured that I did everything within my capabilities to keep everyone safe. Unfortunately even I have limits, and the barrages of missiles were just too great.
In the coming days and weeks, you will learn more about what happened. As I write this now, we are anticipating that we will take on the fire from at least one Estarian ship. Oz and Molly have implemented an adaptation to the shields to ensure that we take the strikes rather than the Zhyn. It was and is of utmost importance that the Estarians do not strike either the Zhyn or the ARs—for the sake of peace in the Federation. I hope that we have been able to achieve that.
You’re on your own now. A similar message will be sent to the Federation and you will no doubt be hearing from the General in due course.
On a personal note, I have thoroughly enjoyed working with you and the whole team. I’m sorry that it had to end.
Be well, my friends, and live a good life.
Emma
Neechie appeared in the office and jumped up onto the desk, and then onto Paige’s lap. Paige, dazed, allowed the sphinx to nestle up against her without any reaction. Absent-mindedly she allowed her hand to fall to Neechie’s back as she processed the worst news of her life.
Bates’s Office, Undisclosed Location, Spire
Director Bates carefully closed off the holoconnection. Slowly she turned her chair around so that she couldn’t be seen through the floor-to-ceiling windows of her office. Facing the wall, she bowed her head and tried to smother her mouth with a hand as she sobbed silently.
Philip Bates arrived in the office. He slipped quietly in through the office door. “I got a message from Paige Montgomery to meet you here,” he reported with a sense of urgency as he breezed in. “Is everything okay?”
Director Bates swiveled in her chair to look at him. By her expression and the smeared makeup, he knew straightaway that everything was far from okay.
“What? What’s happened?”
A few moments later a wail reverberated from the office through the entire open-plan bullpen beyond. The agents below looked up, bewildered, trying to make sense of the sobbing and wails that followed.
Rhodez strode in from the elevator purposefully. For a moment he looked as if he were planning to go straight up to the director’s office, but then, hearing the commotion, he slowed his pace and then stopped.
Clevedon called out to him in a raised whisper. “What’s going on?”
Rhodez wandered over to his desk, his expression serious and morose. “Intel downstairs has just received confirmation that the ship, Empress, has just been destroyed. Molly, amongst others, was on it.”
“You mean…?”
He nodded. “Yes, Molly is dead.”
Clevedon felt the shock through his entire body. For a moment he found it hard to breathe. “Are you sure? Is there any chance that…”
Rhodez shook his head. “There is no hope.”
Bailey Residence, Spire, Estaria
Arlene ran towards her apartment door, responding to a knock. “Just a minute, Anne,” she called back over her shoulder. “Just hold onto them for a minute. I’ll be right back.”
She peered through the viewfinder and then stood back, opening the door wide to her friend. “Giles!” she exclaimed brightly. “Just in time. Anne decided that she wanted to paint her room before Ben’or got back, but we could do with someone taller to reach the ceiling.”
Giles’s expression was sober. “Well, quite. I’d be happy to help, but errr, Arlene…”
“Oh come on,” she teased playfully, leading the way back through to the sleeping quarters. “I’ll order up some pizza. We’ll have it done within an hour I’m sure.”
Giles hesitated again. “Arlene, something’s happened. I think you should probably sit down… I have something to tell you.”
Arlene stopped, suddenly realizing that Giles wasn’t his usual stuffy and flippant self. He seemed as if he were actually trying to be sympathetic about something.
“I tried to call,” he explained to her, “but I suspect your holo is still out.”
“Yes it is,” she confirmed. “But I received the public service announcement Paige and Maya sent out...” Her voice trailed off as her concern as to the purpose of Giles’s visit mounted.
“Giles? Have you been… crying?”
“I have,” he confessed without any embarrassment. “I’ve just had a conversation with Uncle Lance. Something terrible has happened. The crew of The Empress… They’re all dead. Arlene, I’m so sorry. Ben’or isn’t coming back.”
Still standing, Arlene started to process the information, her body convulsing silently as she began to sob.
Anne had been standing around the corner behind the kitchen counter. She had heard everything. As Giles moved in to steady Arlene, Anne ran back to her room and slammed the door.
Arlene felt her arms and legs go limp as she took in the news. Carefully Giles helped her to the sofa, where she collapsed in a heap, sobbing.
* * *
Much later in the evening, Giles had managed to coax Anne out of a crawlspace she had accessed in her room. Arlene hadn’t moved from the sofa in hours. Instead she lay semi-catatonic, uninterested in eating or drinking anything.
Or communicating, for that matter.
Sitting with her, Giles and Anne quietly played some form of checkers that Anne had learned in the convent.
“I’m not sure that’s a valid move…” Giles started to protest.
Anne glared at him and took her finger from the checker she had just moved. “And, I win again,” she told Giles quietly and matter-of-factly, with a finality in her halfhearted glare.
Arlene stirred slightly and mumbled to Giles. “You should make sure she’s not cheating you,” she told him.
Anne smiled. “I’m not!” she protested, a little more playfully now.
“Don’t trust a word that one says,” Arlene added, narrowing her eyes at the adolescent.
“Good to see that you are rejoining us,” Giles confessed quietly and reset the board for another game.
“Yes, well, we’ll see.”
Anne got up and headed out to the kitchen with her glass, leaving Giles and Arlene to talk as grown-ups.
“How are you feeling?” Arlene asked him.
He shrugged. “Trying not to think about it. I can’t bear the idea that…”
Arlene nodded from her scrunched-up position on the sofa. She started to sit up a little.
“I just keep thinking I should have been there with them,” he added.
Arlene gently placed a hand on his arm and shook her head. “It’s better that you weren’t,” she said sensibly. “Besides, you don’t know how many of your nine lives you have left.”
Giles smiled, trying not to let his lip tremble. Tears streamed down his face quietly as he and Arlene consoled each other, just with their mere presence.
It wasn’t long before Anne returned from the kitchen. “Are you going to play this next one with us, Arlene?” she asked. “It’s actually more fun with three players…”
Chapter 15
Safe House, Undisclosed Location, Estaria
There was a noise towards the front of the safe house. It hadn’t been there a moment ago, and it wasn’t quite like any noise Joshua had heard before.
Even so, it wasn’t a particularly concerning sound.
But it drew Joshua out of the kitchen. A buzzing noise, distant and muffled. He didn’t even bother putting down the knife he had been using to cut his sandwich, assuming he would just have to give one of the generators a swift kick and then head right back into the kitchen.
But then he smelled smoke. And hot metal. A line along the edge of the main door was glowing red hot. It was getting longer, reaching closer and closer to the bottom of the door as someone on the other side took a blowtorch to it.
“Suedermann!” Joshua hollered over his shoulder, his grip on the bread knife tightening. “Get into the safe room!”
He could hear hurried footsteps behind him, heading deeper into the house, followed by the sound of the safe room opening and closing again. He only just heard the beep of the lock engaging.
Joshua glanced around to see if his protective vest was in the room, but he didn’t see it and he didn’t have a chance to go look for it before a narrow metal rod abruptly slammed its way through the gap between the door and the doorjamb, bending the heated metal out of the way and prying it open. With an unholy, almost deafening screeching sound, the door slid back along its track one painstaking inch at a time until it was open just wide enough for someone to shoulder through. Afterwards, the metal of the door was warped beyond any hope of closing again.
Four people barged into the room. Almost immediately, a bullet ripped through Joshua’s shoulder. Adrenaline let him ignore it as he surged forwards. He lifted the knife and crashed into the nearest of the four intruders, slamming the blade into the man’s neck. It sank through muscle and cartilage with a damp crunch, and he yanked it to the side, sending blood spraying through the air. Their momentum as they stumbled helped the knife to go deeper, and they both landed on the floor in a tangle of limbs.
It all happened in a few seconds, before a hand closed around the back of Joshua’s neck and hauled him away. The knife’s serrated edge caught in the neck’s muscle and ripped out of Joshua’s hand.
He landed on his back on the floor. The man who grabbed him loomed over him, gun drawn, only for his shot to miss when Joshua kicked him in the knee with enough force to dislocate it, sending him down to his knees on the floor.
The shot struck the floor, instead, buying Joshua only a moment before the man took aim again.
“Don’t kill him yet!” a third man barked. He sounded like the leader. He was crouched beside the dead one’s body. “We might still need him with a pulse.”
There was a tense moment of silence, and then the man with the dislocated knee settled for shooting Joshua in the gut. Joshua’s back arched in agony and he clenched his jaw so tightly he felt a few of his teeth crack.
As he writhed on the floor, he could hear the fourth man exploring the house, until finally a voice called, “Door’s got a scanner!”
The leader of the group grabbed Joshua by the front of his shirt and started dragging him towards the back of the house. Joshua thrashed like a feral cat the entire way, but it hardly seemed to make a difference.
Once they were standing at the door into the safe room that had doubled as the office, someone lifted Joshua’s hand and pressed it to the door scanner. It beeped after a few seconds and slid open.
Immediately, the man who opened the door stumbled back when Suedermann shot him in the shoulder with his side arm. In the same breath, the group leader pulled a knife from his belt and hurled it. It sank straight into Suedermann’s chest and sent him staggering back the few feet to the wall.
When another shot rang out, the gun was being held by the man Suedermann had shot just a moment before. Without ceremony he shot Suedermann right between the eyes. He stayed upright for a breath, then a second, and then staggered back and sank slowly down the wall.
The leader dropped Joshua on the floor finally, just inside the safe room. He lifted a foot, and then stomped down on Joshua’s ribs. Once, then twice, and then a third time.
When the three remaining members of the team left, one of them was limping and one of them was clutching his shoulder. Still, they left under their own power, leaving Joshua behind with Suedermann’s body to gurgle out his last few breaths.
When Suedermann’s holo started to buzz, it went unanswered.
When Joshua’s began to ring a few moments later, it, too, went unanswered.
It rang twice more over the next hour, before it fell silent for good.
* * *
When Alisha and Hans arrived at the safe house, they were already concerned. They knew at least a few people were supposed to be there, but no one had answered their calls on the way there.
Alisha prayed it was a holo glitch: a knock on effect from the blackout a few weeks before. They were, after all, on a vulnerable part of the grid out here in the middle of nowhere.
When they arrived, they saw the door hanging open. They both broke into a run to get inside.
There was blood all over the place, including a trail of it leading towards the back of the house. And there was a dead body in the middle of the floor, a knife from the kitchen still lodged in the neck.
As Hans came to a halt just inside the house to try to figure out how the door had been jammed, Alisha crept deeper into the house. Her steps were light and careful, and once she was a few steps away, Hans could scarcely even hear her as she kept walking.
The door had been bent entirely out of shape on one side, and it took only a few seconds before Hans gave it up as a lost cause and moved away. He turned his attention to the dead body in the middle of the floor, instead. He reached out and tugged the mask off of the body, dislodging the knife as he did and sending it clattering to the floor. He didn’t recognize whoever the man was, breathing a sigh of relief. He turned his attention instead to rifling through the body’s pockets, looking for any sort of personal affects to identify him by. A wrist holo, a wallet, some sort of ID.
He wasn’t surprised when he came up empty-handed. After all, no one dressed up to stay hidden only to carry their driver’s license around for all the world to see it.
Just then, there was a blood-curdling scream from the other room.
Hans leapt away from the body as if it had burned him, whirled on his heel, and bolted in her direction. The door into the office was still open, and he caught the edge of the frame to shift his momentum into the room, sliding around the corner like a drifting race car.
He ground to a halt just a fraction of a second before he could trip over her. She was kneeling on the floor, her hands clenched over her mouth so tightly that her knuckles had gone pale as she hyperventilated between her fingers.
Suedermann was slumped against the wall at the back of the room, a knife buried to the hilt in his chest and a bullet hole straight through the middle of his forehead. There was a bloody streak down the wall, from roughly Suedermann’s standing height.
He dropped his gaze to where Alisha knelt, rocking. Splayed out on the floor in front of Alisha was Joshua. Or at least what was left of him. He had been shot twice without any of his gear on, and his ribcage had been so badly shattered that parts of it were visible through his chest, pushing through the skin like stalagmites.
His eyes were still open, glazed over and staring sightlessly at the ceiling. There was a puddle of blood beneath him, spreading out far enough that Alisha was kneeling in it. It soaked into her atmos pants and stained them red.
“We…we have to…” She trailed off, reaching towards Joshua’s body with trembling hands, as if to attempt CPR. “We need to—” A sob ripped out of her throat, cutting off whatever else she was going to say.
Hans dropped to a crouch beside her, reaching out to catch her wrists as he did. He pulled her hands back, murmuring, “It’s too late, Alisha. It’s been hours.”
Even if it hadn’t been, he was fairly sure they wouldn’t be able to do anything.
She sagged against his side, and he looped an arm around her shoulders. As she trembled and clutched her hands together in front of her chest, Hans reached out with his free hand to close Joshua’s eyes.
Neither of them spoke for a long while.
“We’ll find who did this, alright?” Hans told her firmly, his arm around her shoulders, tightened, tucking her more tightly against his side. “I promise.”
Memorial Park, Spire, Estaria
It was a good place to watch the service from. Plenty of people were streaming it from their holos at home, but it seemed to Giles that it would be a disservice not to be at the memorial service in person.
It was a prestigious place to host a memorial service. The complex series of branching, gleaming chrome archways that had been erected in commemoration of a battle from a war long past made for an elegant backdrop for the reporter and the others gathered, all without completely taking over the setting. It was poignant, in a way. The camera and the crew did nothing to dampen that.
As he watched the service, Giles tried to focus on the inanities—the location, double shadows where the crew’s lighting and the sunlight simultaneously struck something from different angles, the reporter’s hair, the crew members darting around like mice where the camera couldn’t spot them, the High Priest’s watch. All just to try to avoid focusing on what was actually going on.
Beside him, Arlene sniffled. The sound was partially muffled behind the tissue she held in front of her mouth and nose, but Giles was fully aware of it all the same. It made it impossible to block out the emotion of what was going on. With a mumbled, almost sullen, “Shit,” he reached up and scrubbed one wrist across his eyes, nudging his glasses out of place in the process.
It didn’t really occur to him that he had scarcely heard a word the reporter—Merci? Mercy? It was something sort of sickeningly ironic like that—had been saying the entire time. He hadn’t even realized when the camera had moved from the reporter and now rested on the High Priest.
He turned his attention back to the proceedings just in time for the High Priest to usher Gareth Atkins forward.
Gareth cleared his throat quietly and spoke simply. “Let’s take a moment of silence for our fallen heroes. They deserve so much more for their sacrifice.”
A hush fell over the park, so thick and all-encompassing that Giles might have believed it if someone had tried to tell him they had developed a sound sucking device that could blanket the entire planet.
When Gareth spoke again, it seemed too jarring, as if he were breaking some sort of sacred vow of silence.
“They gave their lives so we can continue to live in peace.” His voice was low. “Though it is only the least of what they deserve, it is up to us to make sure that their memories live on.”
As he continued to speak, Giles couldn’t help but to feel a surge of offended outrage. There was Gareth, carrying on about the sacrifice and the heroics and how they would be remembered, as if it would make a damn bit of difference.
Remembering them wouldn’t bring them back. It would just make it all the more apparent that they were gone and that they weren’t coming back.
For a brief moment, Giles wanted to start shouting for all of them to just be quiet and to stop pretending that the memorial service and the pretty words would do anything other than make hypocrites feel better about what had happened.
The urge passed quickly, though. Arlene was still simpering painfully beside him. He slipped an arm around her shoulders, hoping to at least make a difference to how she felt right now.
Gareth stepped aside, letting the camera focus on the High Priest once again. He was calm almost to the point of seeming apathetic. Giles wanted to shake him and demand to know why he didn’t care. Again, the urge passed and he stayed where he was as the High Priest began to speak.
“We remember another hero in this time,” The High Priest enunciated carefully, his hands folded together neatly behind his back. “He, too, lost his life in the line of duty, helping to keep key witnesses safe, when none would have blamed him for looking after his own safety. His sacrifice, along with those of the ship’s crew, will not be in vain. Though they have all been lost, they will not be forgotten.” He took a breath and sighed slowly. “Join me once more in a moment of silence, as we pray for all the souls lost in the name of duty and peace.”
Again, a hush fell over the park for a few moments. When it ended, the High Priest seemed disinterested in saying anything else.
At long last, the camera returned to the reporter. She was beginning to look slightly strained with the weight of the service. Of course, she had probably had to deal with much worse recently.
She took a few steps away from the war memorial, as if to put some distance between herself and the memorial service. After that, watching a news report in person took away most of the mystique of seeing one on a screen.
“While the identities of the crew who intervened in the misfire incident remain unknown, there is speculation,” she explained, coming to a halt when just one edge of the chrome arches was still visible behind her. “It’s widely thought that the ship was captained by a former fugitive, though this former fugitive was already believed to be dead previously. We do have unconfirmed reports, though, that a member of the crew was posthumously pardoned by the president for all crimes previously committed, on account of such loyal service and sacrifice to the Sark System.” Her voice was calm and steady, despite the emotion of the service that had been taking place just moments before.
“While no names have been mentioned and no comment has been offered on the validity of these rumors,” she continued, “it has been assumed by many that the posthumous pardon was for the former fugitive. As can be expected, regardless of the president’s lack of commentary on the matter, speculation has thrived in these last few weeks, despite the nature of such a distressing event.”
Giles stopped paying attention after that, turning away and starting to walk. With his arm still around Arlene, she followed along by his side without protest.
Chapter 16
Senate House, Spire, Estaria
The boardroom was silent.
It wasn’t full. Only roughly half of the Senate had been able to attend. The Speaker of the House, Vero, Zenne, Bel, and Raychel all sat at their seats, contemplating the walls, the ceiling, the grain of the table.
If they listened closely, they could hear a filming crew outside the room, milling about until they were allowed to come in.
At that moment, that was nearly the only activity in the building. The interns had clustered together in the break rooms. The receptionist was quiet in the lobby, and the cleaning staff were all together in their own break rooms.
On every floor, it was the same, with workers of every rank and nature sitting still and quiet.
Everyone knew what was coming, but no one quite knew how to feel about it or how to handle it. Instead, they opted en masse for respectful, almost dazed silence.
It was the Speaker who eventually broke the silence in the boardroom, curling both hands around his cane and tapping the end of it on the floor in no particular pattern. Finally, he sighed and acknowledged, “You can tell them they can come in now. If the words haven’t come to me by now, then I doubt sitting here in silence even longer will help. I’ll just…think of something on camera.”
Vero and Bel eyed him skeptically for a moment, until Zenne rolled his eyes at both of them and made his way over to the door. It slid open and he poked his head out, nearly giving the small crew a series of heart attacks as he did.
“We’re ready to begin,” he stated simply before leaning back into the room, and he returned to his seat at the table just as everyone else was doing the same.
It took only a few minutes for the crew to set up the lighting to their satisfaction once they decided where they were going to film.
“Right at the table,” the Speaker informed them when they asked him, turning his chair around so the table was behind him. He sat comfortably, loose and at ease in front of the small crew. He kept his hands linked together on top of his cane’s handle, the end of the cane planted on the floor between his feet.
The rest of the Senate—or at least those that had managed to gather that afternoon—stayed at the table, though none of them had any plans to say anything. It was only going to be a brief program, after all, and no one wanted to start getting redundant during it.
It was the sort of situation that needed to be handled delicately, after all.
Once they began, it was just the Speaker on camera. He closed his eyes briefly, took a slow breath, and opened his eyes once again as he began to speak.
“We are here today to say good-bye to a group of heroes. A group of heroes who gave their lives to keep us from plunging into galactic war,” he stated, his voice clear and even.
His hands flexed on top of his cane. “Many of us did not know them, and even more of us didn’t even know of them, but that does not lessen what they have done for us. If anything, that makes it all the more important; they gave their lives knowing that the people they were dying for would not thank them for it.”
He paused for a second and took another breath.
“We are here,” he carried on, his voice firming slightly, “because it would be a discredit—a dishonor to them and what they gave to let them be forgotten. So to the crew of The Empress, even if they aren’t here to hear this, we offer our thanks, and we offer our apology. Had we been quicker to take action, then perhaps this wouldn’t have come to pass. Again, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.”
With a slow, final sigh, he fell silent.
The silence lingered for a few moments once the Speaker finished, before the woman in charge of the crew announced, “Alright, that’s a wrap.” She turned on her heel to face the crew as they began dismantling the lighting just as efficiently as they had first set it up. It made all the initial fuss and setup seem a bit pointless, for a segment that was really just a few sentences long.
It should have been longer, probably. Molly’s crew deserved more respect. They deserved more of a send-off. But no one quite knew how to react yet.
The crew left all at once, chattering amongst themselves as they left, their voices dwindling as they got farther down the hallway until they were completely inaudible. Once again, it was just the Senate in the room.
The quiet lasted for several minutes as they tried to decide if they should have been doing anything, before all individually coming to the conclusion that the answer was “not really.” What had happened had happened, and no one had a time machine to undo it.
The Speaker left first, dusting himself off as he got to his feet before he turned and made his way to the door. The others lingered for a few moments, though none of them could come up with anything to say to each other. Too much had happened, and it had left all of them feeling as if the rug had been ripped out from beneath them. Some felt emotionally raw.
Vero was the last to leave, still sitting in his seat even when he was the only one left in the boardroom. He contemplated the wood grain of the table in an absentminded fashion, tapping one heel against the ground.
So much had happened, and all because no one had made a loud enough fuss about any of it.
Finally, he got to his feet and headed out the door before the “what if” scenarios could begin to plague him.
Outer Sark System
The news reports continued on multiple channels on the holostreams.
The Zhyn were not the most frequent race showcased in Estarian news, but there were always exceptions to be made. In that moment, the news showcased a naval ceremony. Footage of open space was always grainier than footage from on board a ship or within an atmosphere, but it was still apparent that the seven highest-ranking ships of the Zhyn fleet were firing their cannons into the distance.
Once, twice, and then a third time before they finished.
The calculations had been handled so very carefully, to make sure there was nothing of any importance in any of their firing paths. Some asteroids would be rendered into space dust, but nothing detrimental would happen.
The salute was eerie. Almost spectral in its silence.
The footage cut away to the bridge of a ship. It was calm, with not a single person out of place. Each member of the bridge crew visible on the screen was dutifully working at their stations, so it almost seemed as if the bridge was being staffed by a crew of mannequins. Save for one man standing at the center of the bridge, facing a camera with a calm resolve that spoke of training on how to effectively handle the media.
The banner at the bottom of the screen read in white letters “Admiral Clor.” Though he stood stiff and steady in front of the camera, the tightness of his shoulders and the way he clenched his hands together in front of himself implied he would rather have been on the move.
His voice was artificially even as he spoke. “Though it is indeed a tragedy, their sacrifice averted what would have certainly turned into civil war. Had the Estarian-Ogg Fleet successfully fired upon the Zhyn fleet, then half of both fleets would have been wreckage before anyone realized it was a misunderstanding. Unfortunately, both sides were dealing with tensions that would warrant such a response.”
He paused, glancing aside for just a moment before his gaze returned to the camera. He took a breath. “Let this represent a new era of peace between our races. Though all of us shall mourn deeply Justicar Ben’or and our allies who passed, we know he would not have wanted this to lead to bad blood between our people. From this point on, the Zhyn look forward to the day when Estaria, Ogg, and the other civilizations of the Sark systems join with the Federation, to prevent such tragedies and such unnecessary loss of life in the future.”
His expression steeled slightly, an edge of commanding entering his tone. “May each and every one of us do all we can to see that their sacrifice was not in vain.”
The image froze there, shrinking and shifting aside to fit neatly in the upper corner of the screen, to instead let a talk show host begin to examine the words.
Aboard Glock’stor Ship #597
Clor stood in the center of the bridge for just a second longer once the camera shut off. It bobbed in the air for a few more seconds before drifting away, returning to its docking station. Clor dragged a hand down his face and started pacing. The entire bridge seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, and almost as one, every crew member slumped into a more comfortable position.
Finally, one of the doors opened to admit Trev’or, who had been lurking in the corridor until his entrance wouldn’t be an interruption after he had made a trip to the restroom.
“Politicking,” Clor grumbled, mostly to himself. “Never quite caught the knack of it.”
“It seemed well said to me, sir,” Ruther replied, practically sitting backwards in his seat to face Clor.
Trev’or dropped himself back down into his seat, ducking over his terminal for a moment as he agreed, “Yeah,” in a low voice. “Was watching on my holo.”
All three of them were quiet for a moment, taking in the day-to-day noise of the bridge. It was Ruther who sighed, shaking his head in dismayed acceptance. “He’s actually gone. All of them are gone.”
“For such a stupid reason,” Trev’or snapped, kicking a panel on the bottom of his station. There was a beat of silence, and then a low, reluctant, “Ow.”
“I’m fairly sure he wouldn’t have thought it was stupid,” Clor replied. Though he sounded matter-of-fact, there was an undercurrent of chastisement under his words. He returned to the command chair and sat down heavily.
“Of course, sir,” Trev’or agreed.
Ruther reached over to clap Trev’or on the back with one hand. His other hand was clenched around the edge of his terminal, belying his calm exterior.
The bridge lapsed into its usual buzz of background noise for a few minutes, as everyone dutifully stuck their noses back into their work. Clor sorted through his messages, handling the confusion that had echoed through the fleet like a gunshot in the last few weeks.
“It isn’t fair, you know?” Ruther broke the silence.
“No one is saying it is.” Clor sighed.
“I know, it’s just—” Ruther made an inarticulate noise of aggravation.
“And now we’re left to make nice in the aftermath,” Clor finished. “I am aware.”
Ruther heaved a sigh and thumped his forehead down against the edge of his terminal, considerably more gently than Trev’or had previously kicked his own.
“So what happens now?” He sighed, partially muffled in his current position.
Clor clicked his tongue. “Have a bit of faith,” he scolded mildly. “Our people have always been good at picking up the wreckage and making it into something new.”
“Optimism seems strange on you, sir,” Ruther grumbled, though he did sit back up to get back to work.
“Part of being an Admiral means that I do what my crew needs me to do,” Clor replied dryly.
And it was comforting, in a strange way. Enough that Ruther and Trev’or could get back to work as if everything was normal without it seeming quite so soul-sucking.
Memorial Park, Spire, Estaria
Gareth Atkins meandered his way down from the ceremonial stage as the crowd had already begun to disperse. His eyes were locked on the Bateses. He waved, hoping to catch their eye, but they didn’t seem to see him.
He scurried through the rows as fast as he could, finally managing to flag them down as fellow mourners passed on their regards. It appeared that at least some of the intelligence community knew who the memorial was for.
He came to a halt a respectful distance from the where they stood at their seats. It took him a moment to look directly at Director Bates. Her eyes were red-rimmed and she was covering the lower half of her face with a handkerchief. Philip stood beside her, his hands on her shoulders and his expression tight and drawn. He ducked towards his wife’s shoulder for a moment, saying something in her ear in a voice too low for Gareth to pick up any of the words.
Director Bates nodded in his direction, and Philip straightened back up to look at Gareth.
“Gareth Atkins, thank you for your kind words up there,” he said simply. Gareth couldn’t blame him for not being especially verbose at that point.
“I’m here on behalf of the university,” Gareth explained. “We wanted to let you know in person that the university will continue to run as it has been in your daughter’s honor, even though it will never be the same without her.”
“Thank you,” Director Bates offered at last, her voice raw as she lowered her handkerchief down to her side.
“A few others are here with me,” Gareth replied, looking back over his shoulder to locate the rest of his party. “They wanted to speak with you.”
Looking rather out of place with the lot of them, General Lance Reynolds and his wife, Patricia, were bringing up the rear of the procession.
Gareth and the Reynolds family stood off to the side as the students formed a circle around the distraught parents, offering their condolences and telling stories of the Bateses’ daughter in equal amounts. It was rather apparent that some of the stories were being told second, third, and fourth hand, the details distorted beyond any sort of believability. If nothing else, they got a damp chuckle out of Carol and Philip.
It wasn’t long, though, before Gareth began to corral the students along, ushering them on their way. Lance and Patricia stayed behind, loitering until most of the somewhat public attention had passed.
Lance looked at Carol expectantly, and with some reluctance she shuffled out from between the chairs where she and Philip had been standing. Lance wasted no time before he pulled her into a hug, so tight it was nearly crushing. She clenched her hands in the back of his jacket.
Philip came out into the aisle too, allowing Patricia to shuffle around next to him. They leaned their shoulders together, letting Philip take silent comfort.
Without leaning away from Carol, Lance reminded her and Philip fiercely, “Your daughter saved lives and prevented the system from plunging into a war that no one was ready for. I already know you’re proud of her, and you should be.”
Carol nodded, her face hidden against his jacket. It was hollow comfort, but it was comfort nonetheless.
Outside the Bailey Residence
It was quiet as Giles took Arlene home after they left the memorial service. He thought about trying to comfort her, but the few words that came to him didn’t sound particularly comforting once he thought them over, so he kept them to himself. He didn’t want to make things worse, after all.
Instead, he parked in front of her home in silence and walked her to the door. They lingered on the step for a moment, both searching for something to say to the other. In the end, Giles just squeezed her shoulder before he turned and headed back to his car. He looked over his shoulder just before he climbed into the driver’s seat, in time to watch her back as she disappeared into the house.
Chapter 17
Chenz’ Bar, Downtown Uptarlung. Irk’n Quarter
The bar was lively when Maya stepped in through the big double doors. The sound of a bell jingling cheerfully played from a speaker just above the door as it opened and then closed behind her. One of the bartenders glanced up. She turned her attention back to her work when Maya continued walking with a purpose, evidently not in need of any immediate attention.
Maya made her way to the counter where Paige was already sitting. She pulled out a stool and hopped onto it. Paige had two drinks in front of her. She slid one over to Maya without saying a word.
Maya picked it up and swirled it in a circle for a few seconds before she lifted it to drain most of it in a couple of gulps. Paige followed suit after a moment of contemplation. They stayed quiet after that, until finally Paige heaved a sigh and slumped forward. Her forehead met the bar top and her arms splayed across the bar.
“The bartenders are giving you a look,” Maya informed her eventually. “Pretty sure they think you’re drooling on their nice sticky bar.”
Reluctantly, Paige sat back up. She leaned her elbows on the bar and propped her chin up in her palms.
“It’s been…” She trailed off as she searched for words to try to describe the recent string of events. Nothing came to her, and she settled instead for just sighing, “Yeah.”
“Yeah,” Maya agreed glumly.
They lapsed into silence again, until Paige elbowed Maya’s shoulder. “Hey. Any idea where we are?”
“The sign said—”
“Not like that,” Paige interrupted quickly, shaking her head. With her chin in her hands still, the motion distorted her voice slightly. “This place,” she pulled a hand away from her face to gesture around to the rest of the bar with it, “is a lot more important than just its name. Haven’t you heard about when Joel and Molly met each other?”
“Nooo,” Maya answered slowly, her eyebrows rising. “No one really felt like pulling out the photo albums when I showed up.”
Paige looked thoughtful for a moment before she lifted a hand to flag down one of the bartenders. She gestured to their two empty glasses and held up two fingers, and she waited for an acknowledging nod before she turned her attention back to Maya. “So, this wasn’t their first meeting. They knew each other from before Molly got kicked out of the military. But Joel was already out. And it was here that they first met after Molly left.”
She paused for just a second as two more glasses were placed in front of them. She curled a hand around hers as Maya pulled her own closer, and finally Paige launched into the epic that was Molly and Joel.
It was always a good time for a story, after all, and it felt better than only talking about the tragedy of everything that had happened.
Granted, the telling of the tale took far more time than either of them would have expected, and by the time Paige was finished, the bar was packed almost to bursting and the sun was beginning to go down outside. Maya had no doubt that at least a few of the more unbelievable parts had been exaggerated, but considering everything she had known Molly to be capable of, she wasn’t actually going to stake any money on that.
“Turn it up!” someone called. Both Paige and Maya turned their attention to the holoscreen on the wall behind them. People eyed it with suspicion still, as if the whole network was now all of a sudden fallible since the dramas earlier that month. The holostream remained functional all the same. The logo for IQ News filled a bottom corner, and on screen it showed Grouthe being escorted into a courthouse by a pair of military police officers.
A young man standing on the courthouse steps watched over his shoulder as Grouthe disappeared through the massive double doors, before he turned his attention back to the camera.
Bright and chipper, he gave his commentary. “That was Captain Grouthe of the Estarian-Ogg Space Fleet, captain of The Hierophant, which was the ship that initiated the escalation of events in the Misfire Incident.”
Maya could practically hear the capital letters that the event had acquired over the last few weeks. “He’s now facing court-martial, and while the trial is still underway and we’re left with speculation in the meantime, life in prison seems likely.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Maya murmured, turning back to face the bar again. Another glass had appeared in front of her at some point during Paige’s story and been summarily emptied, though she didn’t feel more than a little bit buzzed at that point.
Paige hummed a low note in agreement, still watching the screen. “Would’ve been better if it hadn’t happened,” she grumbled, finally turning her stool back around, “but I guess it’s better than if he got away with it.”
“I was trying to be optimistic,” Maya groused in reply, though there was little heat behind the words. It seemed as if most of the planet had forgotten how to be optimistic for the time being, and she couldn’t really find it in herself to blame anyone.
Paige cleared her throat, drained the last dregs of her third drink, and got that slightly befuddled, slightly constipated look on her face that meant she was trying to think of a way to change the subject.
As if to save her the effort, Paige’s wrist holo started to beep insistently until she answered it. A disembodied voice, hardly audible over the chatter of the bar, wondered brightly, “Somewhere you can talk? Ah, doesn’t matter, I’m not going to be saying anything that important.” Immediately afterwards, he informed them cheerfully, “I’m almost done here. Security’s going through its lockdown procedures. I’m just about finished shutting everything down in the weapons stores and the hangar deck.” Bourne’s voice took on a note of smug satisfaction as he added, “Give it ten minutes once I’m done and no one will even be able to guess that there’s ever been a base down here.”
“Good work, Bourne,” Paige assured him, getting to her feet. “Maya and I will be there soon to get you.”
“It will be so roomy on the isolated network.” He sighed dreamily. “Right, well. Pip, pip, cheerio, all that…whatever. See you soon.” The call ended, and Paige reached out to catch Maya’s elbow, tugging her to her feet and towing her towards the door.
“Don’t we have to pay?” Maya wondered, falling into step beside Paige as they walked through the door.
Paige waved it off flippantly. “I handled it when I got here,” she replied, glancing around before deciding that going right would be the quicker route. She hadn’t driven, knowing that needing to loiter until she was sober enough to drive again would just be wasting time that could be better spent on the move.
Walking, though, always led to thinking. Occasionally a little too much of it.
As they walked, Paige wondered eventually, “So, we’re all sure we’re making the right choice here?”
Maya wrinkled her nose. “I put the network together myself,” she pointed out. “It’ll be fine. Besides, it’d be cruel to just leave him up on Gaitune on his own. He’d go nuts inside a week.”
“Well, yeah,” Paige agreed. “But it’s not exactly your handiwork I’m questioning here. I’m just…having visions—waking nightmares, even, let’s go with that—about all the trouble he would find on the university network.” She made her eyes wide, feigning horror as she mused, “Changing grades, tormenting students he doesn’t like, pranking faculty—”
“He agreed to the code,” Maya reminded her, folding her arms over her chest.
“For whatever that’s worth,” Paige shot back, eyebrows rising.
Maya shouldered into her good-naturedly before they both fell back into step again. They walked in silence for a little while after that, until Paige recognized the alley where she had left the pod.
“This could be the making of him,” Maya stated finally, sliding her hands into her pockets. “Or I think it could, at least. Give him a chance to deal with regular, non-military people without a mission involved? He could surprise us.”
Paige clapped a hand over her mouth, but a burst of laughter still bubbled forth. “Surprising us is what I’m worried about,” she replied, though she didn’t sound particularly displeased about the idea at that point. “But I guess you’re right,” she sighed, watching the pod swiftly descend to ground level. “No way to know until we give him a chance. Though he’s probably going to laugh at us showing up buzzed to collect him.”
Maya scoffed, hopping into the pod. “By the time we get there we’ll both be as sober as a High Priest, and Bourne will never be the wiser.” There was a beat. “Assuming he wasn’t watching us through one of the bar’s holoscreens.”
Paige punched Maya’s shoulder, her words breaking around laughter as she cried, “You’re not making me feel any better about this!”
Unknown Location, Somewhere with the ARs
Cold steel and harsh darkness.
Metal surfaces housed computers and life-support machines.
Artificial, unnatural temperature differentials demonstrated that some intelligence with technology had been occupying the space with a specific agenda.
Just beyond a generator that was throwing off heat, a drop of condensation traced a path down the window on a capsule. Though it was difficult to gauge against the backdrop of machinery in darkness, on closer inspection the capsule appeared the size of a body.
A human body in this case.
The machinery functioned diligently, housed on some kind of ship: sighing and groaning as it lurched undetected in space.
Approaching the capsule, it became apparent that the environment within was controlled: oxygen content, temperature, moisture, and nutrient density. There was no doubt about it. This was a stasis capsule, although nothing that anyone this side of the frontier had ever seen before.
And there wasn’t just one.
Just beyond the first, which contained a human female, there was another one. This one housed a male, also naked, and dormant. Beyond that another female, and then a Zhyn: albeit in a much bigger capsule, and then more capsules beyond.
It appeared that there were enough capsules to house an entire crew.
But not just any crew. The capsules seemed the correct size, and number, for a very particular crew.
Days had turned into weeks as the stasis capsules did their jobs, repairing and rebuilding the strange organisms that were being reassembled from teleported fragments of their DNA.
Only the consciousness of one of their guests was apparent.
He went by the designation of Oz. It seemed he was able to communicate between their systems, and one of the humans—normally, at least.
At first he had seemed distressed. They had considered that this was a result of the explosion. However, after interacting with the entity for some time, they came to understand that there was a connection between him and the human they had spoken to.
The visitors concluded that there must be some symbiotic relationship between the two entities.
Time drifted aimlessly on. Without reference to the outside world or any sensory data, Oz found he had no concept of time or space or anything beyond his overwhelming existence. Perhaps this was death. His death.
He spent the long hours, if that’s what indeed they were, trying to access any data that might help him make sense of the situation. Most of his faculties were still intact. He had memories. He had access to information that he’d assimilated over his life. He regretted not having studied death a little bit more though. After all, if there was something that he could have done or was meant to be doing now in this Purgatory he found himself in, it would certainly have been nice to have a heads-up on it.
Death wasn’t something the Federation had many training modules on though. It was almost as if all the effort they made was to avoid death. As if death were failure. As if death wasn’t an option.
But now facing the question of his own mortality, and that of Molly’s of course, he found himself contemplating what it really meant, and how he might prepare for it, knowing that it was an inevitability at some point: both for him, and his dearest human counterpart.
Why Molly had never talked about death, he didn’t have any answers to either, he realized.
And what would happen to him if she died? Would he just carry on? As he exists now in this blackness alone.
If this was her death, then he didn’t want any part of it. This was no life for him. He would rather not go on existing if it was without her.
His mind continued to churn in free fall… never landing.
You won’t be without her, an external consciousness intervened in his own thought process. She is healing. She’ll wake when she is ready, it reassured him.
Residential District, City of Sasea, Estaria
The house looked too simple. Considering everything it stood for, Alisha had expected it to be some enormous manor, gaudy in its opulence.
In her thoughts it had become a monolith, looming over everything.
But it was no manor.
It was just a regular townhouse, wedged in between two others. A bit on the small side, even. It had window boxes and a mat on the stoop in front of the door. If not for the number on the wall, it would have been almost impossible to tell it apart from any other house in the row. Alisha found herself reading over her copy of the rental forms—a short-term lease, applied for in a hurry and with a rather sizable down payment to grease the way—just to make sure they had the right place.
The details hadn’t changed from the last several times she had read over them, and then she flipped her holo closed. Her seatbelt clicked open a second later, but she didn’t move immediately, instead just sitting in the driver’s seat.
She should head inside. Before Sloth realized there was an unfamiliar car parked on the curb in front of his safe house. She knew she couldn’t just sit there all evening, and yet she couldn’t quite bring herself to open the car door and climb out.
“You know you don’t have to do this.”
Hans had reminded Alisha of that detail every day for weeks, and he was determined to keep the trend going. “Not like this, at any rate. I mean, becoming a killer is kind of a big step. Not generally viewed as a good career move, you know.”
“I was trained for this,” Alisha reminded him, just as she had done every other time. Even so, she couldn’t actually bring herself to feel annoyed about the repetition.
“You weren’t trained to be a killer,” he replied insistently. “That’s not a guaranteed part of this job; you know that.”
“Sloth is the reason Joshua is dead,” Alisha snapped, her voice rising sharply. She gripped the steering wheel just for something to do with her hands, her fingers tightening until her knuckles paled.
“I didn’t say he wasn’t,” Hans replied, his tone turning slightly placating. “And I didn’t say that we shouldn’t do anything. All I said was that you still have a choice in how this is handled, and in who handles it.”
It was a familiar stance, and Alisha had protested against it the same way every time before. But it was different when she was actually looking at the townhouse, knowing that Sloth was inside and knowing what was coming.
It was different knowing that one of the men who needed to die was just a few yards away.
Slowly, Alisha slumped forward, until she was resting her forehead against the steering wheel. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and she drew in a sharp breath. Her heart just felt heavy. Heavy and dull from the pain of loss.
“Go. Just—go. I’ll make sure the car doesn’t get towed.” The words came out in a rush as she spat them out before she could change her mind or waste even more time with more deliberation.
Hans squeezed her shoulder before he pulled his hand away.
Alisha didn’t look up when she heard the car door open, instead keeping her gaze centered on the dashboard. That was where she focused for the next few moments, until she could hear Hans successfully hack the door’s lock. She looked up in time to see the door open and to watch Hans step inside.
The door closed behind him, and Alisha stared at it, waiting for Hans to reemerge. She would have no way of knowing how it turned out until then; if they wanted to avoid the neighbors immediately realizing something was going on, then they needed to avoid something as noisy as a gun.
He was inside for only a few minutes, but it was still long enough for Alisha to begin putting some serious thought into just charging through the front door. Before the idea could begin to seem too tempting, though, the front door slid open once again at last and Hans stepped out.
He paused on the front step just long enough to reengage the lock, and then he cleared the distance to the car in a hurry, hopping down the few steps to the sidewalk and jogging to the car.
Once he was seated in the passenger seat, Alisha didn’t even wait for him to buckle his seatbelt before she started the car and pulled away from the curb. The car rose into the air and began to speed away. From the corner of her eye, Alisha could see Hans cleaning his knife before he slid it back into his boot.
They drove in silence at first. It didn’t last for long, though, before Alisha turned off at the first exit and pulled the car to a halt at the first rest stop she spotted. The car sank gradually to the ground, where she parked and slumped back in her seat.
“So nothing strange happened?” she asked, glancing at him sidelong. “Nothing we need to worry about?”
“I wouldn’t put it past any of them to have some sort of contingency plans,” Hans replied carefully, “but no, everything went about as we expected it to.”
Alisha nodded slowly, distracted, her thoughts churning like sea foam. Finally, voice low, she offered, “Thanks. For…not letting me do that.”
“I wouldn’t have stopped you if you really wanted to,” he pointed out.
She nodded again. “I know, yeah. I just…” She heaved a sigh, her head falling back against the backrest. “I just don’t think I’m quite ready for that sort of thing yet.” She wrinkled her nose. “So much for training. Joshua deserved better than me just sitting in the car keeping the seat warm.”
“Hey.” Hans’s voice was firm. His hand closed around hers and he squeezed, his grip warm. “No amount of training makes you ready to kill someone. If you can put it off, then you should, for as long as you feasibly can. And regardless of who killed whom, we wouldn’t have even found him without you.”
“I know,” she mumbled, before she straightened up, turning to actually look at him. “I know,” she repeated, firmer that time. Her expression steeled as she asked, “Where to next?”
Hans cleared his throat. “We’ve got reports of Ghetti hiding out in Shanxi in the Kalamar district, on Ogg,” he replied. “Once he’s dealt with, that’s that.”
“I’m coming with you,” Alisha insisted instantly, her fingers finally tightening around Hans’s.
He looked down at their joined hands, and then back up at her. “Well, as long as you’re sure,” he agreed.
Alisha scoffed. “Of course I’m sure,” she replied, as she started the car once again. “Let’s get it organized. No time like the present.”
Chapter 18
Giles’s Classroom, Skóli Uppstigs Academy, Spire, Estaria
There was a blog that was well-known amongst the students of the university. They referred to it as the school paper. The Bates Explainer was typed across the top of the blog in letters that looked as if they had been made with an antique typewriter—and they liked to think that it was a secret.
They weren’t entirely correct on that front, but the blog did its job admirably all the same.
Molly had always been so good at telling stories. They had been her way of relating to her students. They had been her way of assuring them that yes, what they were learning would someday come in handy in the real world and they weren’t just trapped in a cycle of rote memorization.
The Explainer had always been a way to share her stories, passing them on to students who hadn’t had a chance to hear them in person. It had become something of a shrine in the past few weeks, with new entries pouring in at an unprecedented rate. Some fantastical stories, some mission stories, and some daily encounters that were simply…Molly, as she was when she wasn’t saving the world.
As Giles patrolled through the rows of desks and chairs in his classrooms, he stopped when he came upon the fourth student in the room surreptitiously trying to read the Explainer under her desk on her wrist holo. He loitered there for a few moments, waiting for her to notice him. Gradually, other students in the room began to snigger as she continued to fail to notice Giles standing there.
Finally—finally!—she tensed as the student just in front of her glanced over his shoulder and then rapidly looked away. Like a nervous fawn, she peered over her shoulder, and hastily turned off her wrist holo and folded her hands on top of her desk.
“Professor,” she greeted cheerfully, as if she had simply been waiting for him to continue the lesson the entire time.
“Welcome back,” Giles returned, followed by, “If you’re that disinterested in the lesson, I do have to wonder why you’re actually here.” Not that he had much of a leg to stand on, but he was, at the very least, considerably better at faking his interest in education at this difficult time.
The girl flushed and slid down in her seat, mumbling, “Sorry, professor.”
With a sigh and a brief shake of his head, Giles continued on his way, strolling back to the front of the class. It seemed that the lesson was effectively forgotten by that point, though, as they were all talking once he made it back to the front of the room.
What’s going to happen to this place without her?
This was her school. What does that mean for the rest of us?
Hey, remember that time at the Senate building?
Does anyone else remember that thing she did with the necktie?
She was such a badass. Think I’ll ever be able to do anything like that?
Giles brought two fingers up to his mouth and whistled, sharp enough to nearly break glass, and every student in the room whipped their attention back towards him.
“As a reminder, we have counseling available for anyone who feels like they need it,” he pointed out. “Even if you only think you might need it a little. A little can turn into a lot when you least expect it.”
He got a murmured cloud of affirmations, but he knew he wasn’t going to get them back on task at that point. He set them to doing bookwork until it was time to dismiss them, knowing they would hardly get any of it done.
His students left in a haze of chatter once the class ended, filing out of the room. As soon as they finished traipsing out of the class, Gareth stepped into the room.
Giles sat on the edge of his desk, and his eyebrows rose expectantly as he looked at Gareth, waiting for him to say his piece.
“How’s Arlene holding up?” Gareth asked casually.
Giles felt like the rug had been yanked out from under his feet. It wasn’t exactly the line of questioning he was expecting. He also felt a pang of guilt rip through his chest. He’d been so caught up in his own grief, he hadn’t really been paying much attention to what she must be going through.
He cleared his throat. “She could be better,” he replied. “She’s taking time off of work to take care of Anne, but I don’t think she sees much of a purpose in any of this anymore.”
Gareth nodded in quiet acknowledgment. “It’s a lot to take in. She’s going to need people that she can lean on to help her get through it.”
Giles shifted back and forth on the edge of the desk. “She doesn’t answer my calls most of the time. Apparently she wants to be left alone.”
Gareth shrugged one shoulder, as if that decision made perfect sense. Maybe it did. Giles wasn’t exactly a therapist.
“It’s an awful situation to be stuck in,” Gareth said, before he settled a probing look on Giles. “And what about you?”
“What about me?” Giles repeated back, his tone turning slightly guarded.
“How are you holding up?” Gareth asked, perfectly patient despite Giles’s sudden swing into defensiveness.
“Fine,” Giles replied tersely, drumming his fingers against the edge of his desk.
Gareth’s eyebrows rose. “‘Fine,’” he repeated dubiously. “You’re sure?”
Giles shifted again, almost squirming that time. “Well—” He cut himself off, but Gareth heard him all the same, leaning forwards slightly. Giles sagged as he sighed. “It’s just—I mean, losing Molly—losing anyone, I guess—” He paused and swallowed. His voice was starting to sound like gravel and his throat felt tight, and he just needed a second to gather his composure before he lost it.
“It’s…hard,” he admitted. “I’ve been reevaluating some things. You know what it’s like.”
Gareth clapped him on the shoulder. “I understand. After I lost my wife, picking up the pieces took me…well.” He chuckled, though it wasn’t a particularly happy sound. “We’ll be charitable and just say it took me a while.”
Giles nodded slowly, in slightly distracted understanding. Gareth eyed him for a moment longer, waiting to see if Giles would say anything else. When he didn’t, Gareth turned and slowly left the room.
Giles was left alone in his classroom, staring at empty desks and empty chairs. He stayed there for a few more minutes, sitting on the edge of his desk, before he pushed away from it and headed towards the classroom door.
He turned the lights out as he left.
Giles’s Office, Skóli Uppstigs Academy, Spire, Estaria
The walk down the hall seemed to take twice as long as it usually did.
His footsteps sounded loudly on the tile floor.
Where was all the chatter? It was a university. It was a school. It was never supposed to be this quiet. He was pretty sure that was against at least a few of the natural laws of physics.
The sound of his office door sliding open seemed to grate on him more than usual, and the office felt much darker. Almost matching his mood, he mused to himself. Despite that, he still didn’t bother to turn on the lights. His eyes would adjust, and in the meantime it was an effort that he couldn’t see any point in making.
He leaned back against the door for a moment as he heaved a slow sigh.
“Quite a day.”
And apparently it was ending with him talking to himself.
Giles couldn’t even bring himself to be annoyed at that point. He pushed himself away from his office door and took the few steps to cross the room, and he dropped down into his chair behind his desk.
It was more like he was tumbling down into it, actually, like a puppet that had been put through a very long day. But there was no one else there to see him, so it didn’t really matter.
He leaned back in his seat, staring blankly at the ceiling. There was work he needed to be doing—days’ worth of grading on the holosystem—but he couldn’t quite bring himself to get to it just then. It would still be there later. Besides, if he graded everything, he would have to hand it all back. And once that happened, at least a few of his students were bound to have questions. At least some of those questions would be in-depth enough that it would be better to answer them in his office without taking up class time. So the longer he put it off, the longer he got to avoid inviting anyone into his office.
A necessary thing, really, considering the state of the rest of the room, he considered, casting his gaze around his immediate environment.
He hadn’t taken his trash out in days, there was still an old take-out container sitting on top of a cabinet and attracting bugs, and the entire room smelled faintly like a pair of running shoes that hadn’t been aired out since before the age of space travel. He couldn’t even imagine what his office would look like if everything was still handled on paper. It would look like a snowstorm had ravaged it.
It was an embarrassment, really, and he dreaded the day someone knocked on his office door and asked to come in. Because he cared about it enough that he didn’t want anyone else to see it, and yet not quite enough to actually do anything about it. Yet.
He kept adding that yet onto everything.
He wasn’t doing his grading yet. He wasn’t working on his lesson plans yet. He wasn’t planning the next quizzes or tests yet. He wasn’t cleaning up the mess that could be called an office yet.
He wasn’t talking to the university’s counselors yet.
He wasn’t sure if it actually meant anything by that point, but examining it from other angles didn’t feel especially pressing in that moment. So he told the little voice reminding him that he should be working to stuff it, and instead he leaned down to the cupboard under his desk. He pulled out a glass and a half-full bottle of Yollin whiskey, and he poured himself three fingers. He left the bottle on his desk. There was no sense in putting it away just yet.
He held the glass for a moment, tipping it this way and that way for a moment to make the amber contents swirl. Finally, he took a sip and opened up his holoconsole.
He had heard rumors of an archaeological dig starting up in the ruins of Gresshone over in the Orn System, and another in what remained of the city of Weishrei on Plantasica-8. They were both far enough away from everything else that had happened that he would have a chance to just decompress and absorb everything. If he decided to go, at any rate. His students weren’t going to cease to exist within the next few weeks, after all. He supposed he would be rather concerned if they did.
And he supposed he could do a little more research before he came to a final decision. Not quite yet. That would just be the responsible thing to do, after all. It would set a good example for his students.
He tipped his head back to drain his glass.
Bailey Residence, Spire, Estaria
The doorbell rang and Arlene rushed to answer the door. She heard chattering, giggling and cooing on the other side. She knew who it was without looking. Unlocking the door, she swung it open with the biggest smile that she could muster. “Paige! Maya! So good to see you both,” she chimed, trying to match their levity.
The two girls stood there beaming, half their attention on the sphinx basket carried between them. “I don’t think he wanted to come,” Paige confessed. “It took the both of us half an hour to track him down, and then another half an hour to get him in the basket.”
Arlene waved them in. “Well that’s just sphinxes for you,” she explained. “They’re ferociously independent, and march to the beat of their own drum.”
“You’re not kidding,” Maya sighed as they placed the basket down on the floor. “This one certainly has a mind of his own. Do you want us to let him out now? Here?”
“Yes, yes,” Arlene confirmed, fussing about the clothes and things that were lying around the apartment. She gathered up some take-out dishes and shipped them into the kitchen before her guests could look too closely at the state of the place. “Let him out so he can start getting used to the place. In the meantime let me put some food out for him,” she called through from the kitchen.
Maya and Paige set about letting Neechie out of his container, and Anne appeared from her room, having heard their voices.
“Neechie!” she squealed in delight. Taking one look at her, however, Neechie flashed out of realm and disappeared. Anne stopped in her tracks, arms outstretched, while the others collapsed into heaps of giggles.
Arlene appeared from the kitchen laughing too. “Come on, Anne, you know not to scare him.”
“It’ll take more than me to scare that thing,” Anne grumbled, hurt.
A moment later the sphinx appeared on the sofa behind them.
“Slowly now,” Arlene warned as Anne made her way towards him, stalking like a snuggle-predator. This time Neechie allowed her to approach and she started petting him.
“Can I get you anything?” Arlene offered to Paige and Maya. “A mocha or something?”
Maya checked her holo and then slapped at Paige’s arm. “We’re going to be late. We’ve got to get going.”
Paige checked her holo too. “Shit, you’re right. Rain check on the mocha?” she asked, glancing up at Arlene.
Arlene nodded, half relieved that they wouldn’t be inspecting the state of the apartment too closely, but also half disappointed that they wouldn’t be staying to keep her company.
“Arlene, if there’s anything that we can do, though, just shout,” Maya insisted. “We’re staying pretty close to campus now, so barely a stone’s throw away.”
Arlene nodded as she walked them back towards the door. “Thank you, I will. OOoh, was this your sphinx carrier?”
Page shook her head. “No, it belongs to Neechie. Best keep it with him… Just in case you need to transport him anywhere else.”
“Thank you,” Arlene repeated as the two girls headed out the apartment and down the corridor towards the stairs.
“See you soon, Arlene,” Paige chirped. “We should do drinks together soon,” she added.
“Good idea,” Arlene called down the corridor after them. She stepped back into the apartment and headed back into the living room to see Anne carrying Neechie through to her sleeping quarters, chattering away to him as if the previous snub had been forgotten.
Arlene wandered back into the kitchen to carry on tidying up. Maybe ten minutes had passed before Anne reappeared again.
This time in tears. “He’s gone. He’s gone again, Arlene. I think he’s gone for good,” she sobbed.
Arlene stepped towards the crying girl. “Hey come on, that’s not true. Sphinxes do this. It’s perfectly natural. They disappear, and then they come back. Remember, they have more dimensions to explore than we have. They realm walk. They see more than us, and sometimes they tell us things. That’s why they’re good to have around.” She smiled weakly, trying to reassure the fragile girl.
“You don’t understand,” Anne sobbed. “He’s gone, just like everyone else. Just like everyone goes.”
Looking at the tears streaming down her face, she recognized her own vulnerability at her recent loss.
“That’s not true,” Arlene tried to reason with her. “Is this about Ben’or?”
“No,” Anne lied through her tears. “It’s just he’s gone, and now Giles has gone. And Paige and Maya have gone, and they’re not coming back.” Her voice increased in volume and aggression as she ranted.
“What makes you—”
“And it’s all your fault!” Anne concluded, working herself up into a state, talking through tears.
“Why is it my fault?”
“You said something to Giles. Something to upset him, so that he doesn’t come back.”
Arlene took a deep breath and tried to console her. “What are you talking about?” she asked gently.
“He hasn’t been back since the memorial service. You said something to him, didn’t you?”
“No… No I didn’t.”
“So why has he gone? Why doesn’t he want to see me anymore?”
“Sweetie, he doesn’t not want to see you. I mean… of course he wants to see you. I think you’re just being a little bit—”
“A little bit what?” Anne shot back accusingly. Her eyes burned with tears now, red-rimmed and puffy. “Giles doesn’t want to see me anymore and it’s all because of you. He was my only friend!”
“That’s not true,” Arlene continued to protest. “None of that is true!”
“Well, why hasn’t he been around then?”
“He’s dealing with it in his own way. That’s Giles.”
“Well, he was around in the beginning. What did you say to him?”
“Nothing!”
“Liar. I bet you gave him a hard time and sent him away.”
Their voices could be heard down the corridor and in the adjacent apartments. The shouting continued for several minutes. One of the neighbors stepped out into the hallway to make sure it was nothing that needed the police called in on.
Then everything went quiet. The shouting stopped, only to be replaced by quiet sobbing.
Arlene sat down on the sofa. “Giles is going through a lot. I lost Ben’or, but he lost Molly. And he’s never been very good with emotions. Or losing people. His normal thing is to withdraw, and then take off.”
“You mean leaving? He’s leaving Estaria?”
Arlene blew her nose into a tissue that she pulled from her sleeve. “Maybe. Again, like Neechie, it’s just what he does. But he’ll be back.”
“When? Hundred years from now? Wasn’t that how long it took him last time he left you?”
Arlene exhaled, exasperated, pained by Anne’s words. Anne didn’t wait for a response. She just flounced back to her room, crying.
Chapter 19
Unknown Location, Somewhere with the ARs
No one knows how long it was before the first heartbeat was detected, but it happened. And in that moment, the onlookers breathed a collective sigh of satisfaction.
She’s waking up, the entity reported. She has a heartbeat and brain activity. She’s… Alive! Oz watched as her vitals started to reinvigorate with life.
>Of course she is alive, they told him. What do you think all this is about?
I still don’t understand, Oz responded.
>You will. When she awakens, everything will make more sense.
The filtration system kicked on in the capsule and started extracting the excess moisture from the air within the capsule. Over several minutes, the condensation on the capsule’s window started to clear.
Molly stirred, as if waking from a nap. Not yet fully conscious, she tried to move in her sleep but found herself unable to change her position.
Where am I?
>You’re safe, the voice told her in her mind.
She wasn’t fully aware of her mouth or throat, or even if she was breathing.
>You’re not awake yet. You’re not using your mouth to speak.
This is like in my dreams.
>And when we talked to you, when we urged you to prepare your planet.
Yeah, about that… I think I failed.
Her brain activity spiked. Hang on! I died. We had a plan to keep everyone safe. But we died. We all died. Joel, and Jack, and Sean and—
Oz interrupted her thoughts. It’s okay. You’re not dead. They’re all alive, so I’m told. It’s the ARs. They saved us.
How?
I’m still trying to figure that out, but I think they had some kind of teleportation device where they pulled your DNA from the ship before it exploded.
But what about my memories? My consciousness? How did they pull that?
The voice in her head interrupted. We have technology beyond your comprehension. I suppose an easy way to explain it to you is that we took a photograph of everything: who you are, your essence, your DNA… Everything… And now we’re just rebuilding it.
Molly’s brow creased into a frown that would have been visible even through the capsule’s window, had there been anyone there to see. That means that consciousness is separate from the body…
Oz chuckled. I just felt your cortex light up as you started to try and figure this out!
Molly smiled, despite the bizarre situation.
So what’s the plan? she asked the AR.
>You need some more time to rebuild, but then when you’re done, we will let you go.
Let us go? Our ship was destroyed. You can’t just leave us in space. Our fragile bodies will—
>Yes, we’re well aware. It was, after all, us who created you.
It was? Giles was right all this time…
>He was.
So what does this mean for the system? Did the Estarians attack? What happened with the Zhyn? Did you survive okay?
>We did. Thanks to your sacrifice, all is well.
But… I thought we failed.
>You did no such thing. You showed the Estarians what it is like to come together. All being well, this’ll be a turning point in their evolution, and the beginning of a new era of cooperation between the parties involved.
You mean… You knew this was gonna happen?
>We had an idea. But we needed a champion. Someone to spread the word and show them by example.
You mean us?
>Yes.
But I don’t understand… How did you choose us?
>We saw who you were when you called us.
And what if someone else had called you? What if someone more warmongering had been at the other end of the communication?
>Well, then we would have acted accordingly.
What does that mean?
>We probably wouldn’t have allowed our presence to be known to them.
But to what end? Why would you want the more evolved people of Estaria to know that you exist? And why now?
>It was always our intention. But we needed you to be involved and aware enough in order for us showing up to not create massive fear and panic.
But it did create massive fear and panic!
>And in the end you, as a civilization, prevailed.
Molly snorted lightly. I don’t know what I look like, but I know I got blown apart. Doesn’t feel like we prevailed.
>Ahh but you did. And for your efforts and sacrifice, we are incredibly grateful. You have changed the course of history in this entire galaxy. Your reward is life: another chance to spend it how you will. But for now… Rest. There will be plenty of time to figure everything out soon.
Molly found herself becoming drowsy, her consciousness drifting from her once again.
Safe House, Gaitune-67
The safe house was dark. Dust had already begun to gather and settle on surfaces. It had been several months since the base had been fully operational: the busyness and activity of the Sanguine Squadron now just a distant memory in the minds of those who had been left behind.
All essential systems had been shut down, including life support. What was left of the air would likely be gone in a matter of weeks, replaced by vacuum as it escaped through the unmaintained seals around the doors.
With the processors turned off, there wasn’t even a heat signature in the building. The only remaining systems left on were the security ones that protected what was left of the base downstairs. But now, just as before the base was resurrected by Molly and the crew, it lay dormant. Silent. Unnoticed. Forgotten.
Neechie appeared just outside of the Daemon door. He looked up at the camera that monitored the access to the base. If anyone had been watching, they might have seen how he looked intently right into the camera as if trying to tell them something.
Unacknowledged by the system on the other side of the camera lens, Neechie turned on the spot and paced quietly through the darkness that was once Brock’s workshop. Slowly and deliberately he padded up the steps through to the main safe house. He paused briefly in the foyer, glancing at the now decommissioned airlock. Then he wandered over to the sofa, turned to face the door and sat down to wait.
* * *
The next time Molly stirred again, she felt different: strange. Like she wasn’t at home in her own body.
If it was even her own body…
She became aware that she was lying on something hard. And cold.
She shifted her arm to her head and rolled over, feeling the cold, hard surface beneath her. There was a light on the other side of her eyelids. Slowly she peeled them open, squinting into the light.
“What the fuck?” she breathed. As her eyes became accustomed to the light, she was able to make out shapes. And those shapes told her that she appeared to be lying on the cockpit floor… on the floor of The Empress.
She blinked, allowing her eyes the chance to adjust.
Oz, are you there?
I’m here.
Oz? What the fuck?
I know.
Are the others okay?
The last I spoke to the ARs, they were going through the same process as you.
You spoke to the ARs?
Molly pushed herself up off the ground and swiveled around on her hip bone to see Joel nearby. She was vaguely aware of the others around her too. They were all starting to stir.
“Joel,” she hissed, scampering over to his side on her knees.
“Fuuuuuuck…” he rasped.
She looked down at him as he slowly started to open his eyes. “You’re alive! I can’t believe it, we’re all alive!”
We are alive aren’t we, Oz? I’m not hallucinating?
Yes, we’re alive.
She watched the others come around, dazed and confused by their new status.
“I thought we bought it,” Joel grunted, sitting up on his elbows. “What on Sark happened?”
Molly smiled. “I do believe we’ve been rewarded for our sacrifice. Life after death, as it were…” She chuckled.
“But how?”
“The ARs,” she said simply, piecing together what she had thought was a dream with their new reality.
By now the others started to comprehend what had happened and were listening intently to anything Molly could tell them. “I guess their tech really is light-years more advanced than ours. Somehow they were able to take a snapshot of who we were and teleport us out of the situation… And then… rebuild us.”
Sean gingerly tapped at his knee. “Well at least they rebuilt us as we were. I couldn’t tell you how much all my enhancements cost, and no way I’d get Lance to spring for a new set after all this…”
Karina snorted lightly in both amusement and disbelief. She pulled herself upright against the wall she and Sean had been thrown against during the explosions. “We’re alive! I can’t freaking believe it!”
“Believe it, baby,” Sean said, crawling over to her. What he said next was indeterminable and morphed into a series of kissing noises.
“Ugh! Get a room, guys!” Pieter scolded them from across the cockpit floor. Everyone chuckled.
Crash remained silent, taking it all in, pinching himself… and then pinching Brock to see if it was true.
Brock sat up next to him inspecting his hands as if they might hold clues as to how this was possible. “I just… I just can’t believe it…” he muttered to himself, shaking his head, and then swatting Crash away as he pinched him a little too hard.
Molly scooted across and sat up against the wall, where Joel joined her. “A lot to process,” he commented dryly.
“No shit, Sherlock,” Molly agreed. “Should we, erm, have some kind of procedure that we should follow? You know, to help the team process any possible trauma and whatnot?”
Joel rubbed his face as if seriously considering the question. “Personally I’d prescribe a crate of beer and a couple of pizzas to help with this little conundrum.”
Molly narrowed her eyes. “You’re joking, right?”
“Actually, I wasn’t. As far as what the Federation would want us to do… fuck knows. I’m not sure how many cases they’ve ever had of this… People coming back from the dead. Hey Sean?”
Sean peeled himself off Karina and sat back on the floor so that he could see everyone else. “Yeah?”
“You ever heard of people coming back from the dead? And like… the protocol for that?”
Sean racked his brain for a few moments. “Well I’m sure something similar has happened at some point. Heck, I’ve even known a few people to fake their deaths over the years…”
Karina eyed him warningly, willing him not to get into that right now.
Sean continued. “But as for what we’ve been through… I’m not sure. Although,” he added, having another thought, “I think our interaction with the new species, and a highly evolved technological one at that, might be worth mentioning at some point. In a report.”
“Or not,” Jack added, rubbing subconsciously at her arm almost to comfort.
“What do you mean?” Molly asked.
“I mean, if the Federation finds out what we’ve been through, what are the odds of them letting us just go back to our lives. Surely they’ll want to prod us. Study us. You know…”
Sean screwed his face up. “You’ve spent too long in the Estarian army, m’lady. The Federation would recognize we’re people, not lab rats.”
Molly shot Sean a look. “You sure about that?”
Sean scoffed and waved his hand in Molly’s direction. “Well sure. You’re a case in point… A rare cornucopia of new technology and unexplained abilities, and what did they do? They let you carry on running one of the most delicate operations in the entire Federation. Unsupervised. Unmonitored. With no checks and balances…”
Molly stared at him in stunned silence.
Joel interjected on her behalf. “I wouldn’t say unsupervised… After all, isn’t that what your job is?”
Sean shot him a look, which softened into an amused eyebrow shrug, almost admitting to the charge.
Molly found her tongue. “Nice to know what you really think, Royale. Would you rather they had locked me up in a lab and run tests on me all these years?”
Sean lowered his eyes. “I’m not saying that…”
“Good,” Molly and Joel said at the same time. They exchanged a brief glance of surprise.
“The point is,” Molly continued, having found her equilibrium, “we need to think long and hard before we let anyone know that we’re alive. So let’s just take some time, get our bearings, figure out where the hell we are, and come to terms with our new status.”
“The undead!” Pieter chuffed.
“Quite,” Molly agreed. “Hang on…” She scanned the room with a quick, concerned glance. “Has anyone seen Ben’or?”
There were mutters and shakes of heads around the cockpit floor. Molly scrambled to her feet. She noticed her legs were wobbly, like they weren’t used to being used. “I’m going to look for him,” she announced, heading out of the cockpit door. “Don’t turn on any of the computers!” she called over her shoulder as she staggered out.
Stepping tentatively down the steps from the cockpit, she held the banister as she had hundreds of times before. It felt strange in her hand. Though, she couldn’t tell whether it was because her hand was new… Or perhaps the banister was new. Distracted by wanting to find Ben’or, she subconsciously clocked that some of this color scheme looked different too.
She hit the button to enter the lounge. The door swooshed open, allowing her passage through. The lounge felt strangely familiar. Yet different. She made a note to check for the slight stretch in the material of the seats next to her normal seat where she would often dump her bag. Her eyes at this moment were busy scanning for her friend and colleague.
“Ben’or,” she called softly.
There was a groan from further down the aisle. She caught sight of movement and started scrambling towards it. “Ben’or? Are you okay? Where are you?”
She stopped in her tracks, his big blue mass catching her eye from between two rows of seats. He seemed to be just coming to his senses, holding his head and trying to get up. Molly offered him a hand. “Have you just woken up?”
“Yes, although given I thought we were all dead, I’m somewhat confused…”
Molly grinned up at him. “You and the rest of us included,” she agreed. “But it’s a happy result, you got to admit.”
Ben’or started to chuckle. “Well you could say that indeed… A happy result. Arlene will be pleased.”
Molly’s smile faded as she considered the possibilities.
What if we can’t go back?
Why wouldn’t you?
Well, like Jack was saying. What if we are turned into experiments? What if we’re a security risk now? What if they won’t let us go?
I think that’s unlikely, but we need to consider possibilities.
Besides, how long have we been gone?
I haven’t connected up to the computer yet. I’ll know soon.
Emma? What about Emma? Can you see if she’s here too?
Sure. But I’ll also stop any signals being sent out until we know a little bit more.
Cool. Make sure the guys in the cockpit know that as well. Last thing we want is them making our presence known before we know what to do.
No problem. I am all over it.
By now Ben’or was nearly on his feet. “I must say, this death thing has certainly weakened my posture.” He steadied himself by grabbing the back of a chair. “I take it everyone else is okay?”
“They are,” Molly confirmed softly. “Thank goodness. Oz is just seeing if Emma is still functioning. Once we know that, we can start figuring out how long we’ve been out, where we are, and of course what to do next.”
“Get us back to Estaria, is my vote!” he exclaimed jovially.
Molly smiled and said nothing, realizing that she’d had vital few minutes more to process everything, and the implications.
Slowly and casually the pair of old friends picked their way back through the sea of chairs in the lounge to the cockpit to reunite with the others.
“At least we weren’t put back naked,” Molly commented dryly as they walked. Jack looked at her in horror as they came through the cockpit door.
“Oh yes,” Molly continued, “Oz tells me that when we were in the capsules being rebuilt, we were without clothes. Obviously. But then somehow they magically dressed us with some kind of clothes in the teleportation machine. Go figure.”
Her comments were mostly lost amongst the excitement as the crew said their hellos to Ben’or. It seemed that in the few minutes that she was out of the cockpit, hugging and crying, and life reflections had begun.
Joel sidled up to her.
“Tell me,” she said to him quietly, “is there like a five-step process to go with realizing that you’re alive…? You know, like there is one for when someone close to you dies?”
Joel chuckled. “I really don’t think there have been enough instances for anyone to recognize the patterns.”
“Hmm, maybe that’s something that we should document. You know, for future generations that are brought back from the dead.”
Joel rolled his eyes. “I think we have more important things to consider,” he said, pulling her away from the group. “Are you ready to talk about next steps?”
His face was serious. Molly felt her heart sink. This was the bit where she had to make the difficult decisions.
Couldn’t she just revel in the relief of being alive before she had to get all serious? she wondered, sighing despondently.
“Okay,” she agreed reluctantly, allowing him to lead her back out into the corridor again.
Chapter 20
Bailey Residence, Spire, Estaria
Anne was lying on the bed, scrolling through media on a locked-down holo that Arlene had organized for her in recent weeks. She still wasn’t allowed one of her own on account of it being traceable, but this was a compromise of sorts. She scrolled past some more boring news videos, noticing idly that there was very little chatter about the avoided war and the memorial service now that it was all over with.
She rolled over onto her back, trying to avoid the heaviness inside of her by distracting herself with more scrolling.
Just then she felt movement on her bed. She lowered the holoscreen in front of her to see Neechie walking lightly towards her.
“Oh, you’re back, are you?” She scoffed at the catlike creature that had heartlessly abandoned her.
Neechie didn’t reply. Instead he just snuggled up to her chest and tucked his head under her chin.
Anne didn’t cuddle him back. “I bet you only came back because you are hungry,” she jibed.
The sphinx still didn’t respond. Rather, he just lay there comfortably against her, almost as if he were comforting her. Anne tried to go back to scrolling through recent media reports but found it awkward to rise on her back, hold her wrist up and scroll with Neechie in the way. She gave up and relaxed, allowing the holo screen to close down.
The sphinx didn’t move. Anne’s hand fell onto him, and subconsciously she started petting him. He smelled musty. As if he had been somewhere that was shut down. Somewhere that she recognized.
She sniffed at him, trying to place the smell.
A second later she sprung from the bed and ran through to Arlene’s room where she was lying on a bed scrolling through things on her holo too.
“Arlene, what did you say about sphinxes knowing things, and trying to tell us stuff?”
Arlene looked up, surprised. “What do you mean?”
“Neechie has just come back,” she explained. “He smells of the safe house. I’d recognize that smell anywhere!”
Arlene went back to reading her holo. “Is that so?” she responded with an enigmatic smile.
“Yes, that is so. So that’s it?” Anne asked. “You don’t think we should get up there and investigate? You even said he knew things that we didn’t…”
Arlene appeared strangely serene. “Let’s just wait. All things will become apparent in time.”
Giving up, Anne grunted and flounced back to her own room, this time to interrogate Neechie directly.
Aboard The Empress, Location Unknown
“Okay, what do we know?” Molly asked, putting her brain in gear. The door swished closed behind them, enclosing them in the cone of silence that was the corridor between the lounge and the cockpit.
Joel shrugged. “Not much. We are alive again. What else do you know?”
Molly pressed her lips together, her gaze on the floor as she searched her brain. “I seem to remember having a conversation with the ARs sometime before we woke up. They basically said, well, what I’ve already told you…”
She tilted her head up to the intercom. “Oz? Is there any way of figuring out a few things without powering up all the systems and giving away our location?”
“Yeah, working on it now… I haven’t been able to locate Emma though,” he reported back to both of them.
“Okay, keep trying. In the meantime what can you tell us?”
“Well, there are no signs of the ARs, at least in the immediate vicinity. I’d need to power up the radars and long-range sensors to know more.”
“Any idea where we are?”
“Yes,” he replied. “It seems we are pretty much where we were when we took the fire.”
Molly exchanged a concerned look with Joel.
“And what about the two fleets?” she pressed.
“Neither here. Which brings me onto my next deduction. I think it’s safe to say that it’s been some time since we disappeared. Background radiation is consistent with the missile fire that we were experiencing, and the explosion of our fuel core.”
Molly’s breath caught in her throat.
Joel took over what they both wanted to ask. “And can you use the decay curve to tell us how long it’s been since we exploded?”
“I can. Give me a few seconds.”
While they waited, Joel poked his head through the door of the lounge, as if it might give him some important clues about when they might be. “New color scheme,” he noted.
Molly rolled her eyes.
He ambled a couple of steps to look out of the window.
“Anything?” Molly asked.
He shrugged. “Just looks like space out there…”
“Hang on.” Molly shuffled past him and through into the lounge. She strode through to the other side, near the front, where she would normally sit.
“What is it?” he called after her.
“I’ve just thought of something.” She stopped dead next to a couple of the chairs, then turned back to him. “It’s not the same ship.”
“How do you know?”
“I would always bring my gear with me and plonk it in this seat next to me…”
“Yeah. I remember. I thought it was a tactic so that no one could sit next to you.”
“It was,” she confessed blankly. “But it made a dent in the seat over time. Stretched the material. This material is new… as if it’s never been used.”
She looked down at the bottoms of the backs of the other chairs. “No one has ever sat in these chairs. If they had, there would be tiny scuff marks everywhere.”
“I think we need to start calling you Sherlock in the future,” Joel chuffed from the other side of the lounge.
“Okay,” Oz announced, interrupting Molly’s investigation. “I’ve got it. Looks like we’ve been gone about eight weeks since the explosion.”
Molly and Joel looked at each other.
Joel raised his eyebrows. “Wow. That’s gonna be some overtime!”
“Eight weeks,” Molly muttered under her breath. “We’ve been gone for eight weeks. And died. And come back.”
Joel pushed his bottom lip out thoughtfully. “Yeah, imagine. At least the world won’t have changed that much in eight weeks. I mean, I’ve read some sci-fi stories where crews have got caught up in gravitational tides and when they managed to get out, hundreds of years had passed in the real world.”
“Good job we’re not in a sci-fi book,” Molly mused dryly.
“Yeah, there is that. But we still need to decide what to do next. I think the only sensible play is to contact the Federation and see what Lance wants us to do.”
Molly scratched at her face as she thought about the conundrum. “Okay. Maybe. But can we just mull it a bit longer. Jack did have a point…”
Joel sighed. “Okay, but not too long. The others will want to be deciding their futures as soon as this sinks in, and we don’t want them dreaming about things that they can’t do: like going home, if they can’t. The disappointment could be… devastating.”
“Okay, I hear you… We should head back in,” she added, turning back towards the cockpit, her mind churning the decisions that they were going to have to make very soon.
* * *
Inside the cockpit, things were starting to look a little bit more normal.
For a start, no one was sitting on the floor anymore. In fact, Brock, Crash and Pieter had all taken up their usual positions at their consoles and were now poring away over any information they could get from the central computer.
“Nope.” Brock shook his head, responding to something someone else had said. “This is definitely not the same ship. No way. I mean it looks similar. Same interface—kind of… But the processing array is different. Far more efficient in fact. And there are a bunch of directories I have no idea what they are for… It’s going to take me some time to figure this out.”
Molly moved over to his console and peered over his shoulder. “So what are you saying?”
“This ain’t the same ship!”
“But it looks the same,” she argued, despite what she’d already discovered.
“Apart from the new paint job,” Joel commented.
Ben’or joined them at Brock’s console. He squinted and looked at the holoscreen that Brock had pulled up. “My, my, my…” he muttered under his breath. “That structure looks incredibly complex. I wonder how the data is organized.”
Brock shook his head. “I have no clue. It looks way more sophisticated than anything we’d ever had on the Federation ships.”
Joel appeared at Brock’s other elbow. “So what are you saying? That it’s not a Federation ship?”
“Well, it looks like one,” he agreed. “It feels like one. But its systems are just a shit-ton more advanced than anything I’ve ever seen. Even since joining the Federation.”
Molly frowned. “So what we’re saying is that we’ve been brought back to life and our ship has been rebuilt, but it’s been rebuilt better than it was before?”
“Exactly,” Brock confirmed. “Maybe about five generations better than it was before.”
The group looked at each other in astonishment.
“How does that even work?” Molly mumbled, her eyes fixed on the holoscreen of controls Brock was already trying to fathom.
“Yeah,” Sean interjected, “no way can we tell the General that. Apart from anything, he’d take it off us and probably put us all in a hole to make sure no one else gets an inkling of this technology.”
“So…” Molly said slowly, “when we tell the General that we’re alive, we just have to not mention that the ship has been upgraded?”
“Right,” Sean agreed.
“This is going to be a complicated story to spin,” she confessed. “I mean how do we explain that our ship was blown to smithereens and then rebuilt in just eight weeks. By aliens, no less!”
Joel looked at her. “Can’t you just come up with some timey whimey physicsy shit to explain it?”
“I’ll have to think about that,” she responded dryly.
“There’s something else,” Brock added. “I can’t find Emma.”
Molly leaned forward and flicked one of the main console screens open. “She’s not on one of the hard drives needing to be rebooted?”
Brock shook his head. “Negative. I can’t find anything other than a small patch that allows us to do voice interface.”
“Shit.”
“I’m afraid to say Brock is right,” Oz announced over the intercom.
“Oz!” Pieter called out spontaneously, thrilled to hear his old friend.
“Greetings, Pieter, and all,” Oz responded. “I’m sorry I haven’t got better news. It seems that when we were all cloned, they didn’t pick up Emma as a conscious entity. From the looks of the programming, it’s possible that they just thought of her as a computer program, which they have rewritten most efficiently.”
“Well technically,” Sean interjected, “she was entity intelligence, and not fully artificial intelligence.”
Pieter’s eyes started welling with tears. “I think that was an academic distinction,” he retorted. “She was one of us. I’m going to miss her.” His hand fell onto the nearest console, and he caressed it gently with his fingers.
“It’s an interesting point,” Oz continued. “I had a lot of time while you were being rebuilt in the physical, and somehow I was afforded consciousness. I tried querying them—the ARs, that is—as to why I was awake and alert, and yet Molly’s body wasn’t. I think it had something to do with part of my processing being housed on the hardware… But from what I could tell, I was a puzzle even to these godlike ARs that gave you new bodies.”
“Well,” Sean said, ambling back over to the other side of the cockpit where Karina was sitting. “I for one am very grateful that they managed to put us back together the way that they did. Very grateful.”
“Here, here,” Jack added into the mix, smiling for the first time since the new realization had hit her.
“Okay,” Molly said, pulling the conversation back to the practicalities. “At some point we have to tell the General that we’re alive.” She looked pointedly at Sean. “But we’re not to mention the ship.”
Sean and Joel both nodded in agreement.
“I suppose the General will dictate whether we get to tell anyone else that we’re alive. And probably how we go about that.” She looked over at Ben’or. “I’m sorry, Ben’or. I’m sure you’ll be able to see Arlene soon, but we just have to do this carefully.”
“It’s okay,” he said congenially. “I completely understand. Heck, we all have a lot to process. Consider this… The rest of the world thinks we’re dead. In all probabilities, our affairs have been wrapped up and the world has moved on. We don’t have jobs to go back to. We don’t owe the world anything anymore. And yet we have a new lease on life, as it were. We can do anything we choose. We have a fresh slate, and the rest of our lives ahead of us. I think we need to take some time to consider carefully what we’d really like to do with this gift.”
Molly pressed her lips together. “And something tells me that a conversation with the Federation is going to put some severe security restrictions on that. So how about we slow down and consider all our possibilities.”
She glanced over at Joel to gauge his reaction. “So perhaps talking to the General is a conversation we should have sooner rather than later?”
“I agree,” Joel confirmed.
Sean nodded too. Molly glanced at Jack, who also nodded, and then lowered her eyes to the floor.
“Okay,” Molly confirmed. “I’ll talk to Lance. Oz, set me up in the lounge, would you?”
She shook her head. “Man, this is gonna be a trippy conversation…”
Aboard The Empress, Outer Sark System
The holocall connected, revealing a rather pale-looking Lance Reynolds.
“Surprise!” Molly called quietly and anxiously through the connection.
“H-How?” he stuttered. Molly watched as Lance scrambled to try and comprehend the holo-image of the ghost before him.
Molly shrugged with one shoulder. “It’s a long story, boss. But basically, the alien race that we were protecting… They were able to bring us back.”
“Back from the dead?”
“It would appear so.” She raised one eyebrow comically.
“But how?”
Molly shrugged again. “We’re still unclear of the details, but I think it’s safe to say that they have technology that far exceeds ours. Our best guess at the moment is that they were somehow able to fold the space-time continuum so that they could pluck our entire ship and crew from the explosion before it even happened.”
“But we have eye witness reports saying they saw you explode.”
Molly shook her head casually. “They must have seen an explosion. Probably one of the missiles as it hit our shields. Or as it hit an event horizon as the fabric of reality was folded.”
You do realize that you’re lying to your commanding officer?
No. I’m doing what scientists have a long, exalted history of doing: I’m simplifying the empirical evidence and presenting a model that can be grasped and communicated more efficiently than the nuanced details.
To serve your own ends…
True, but we can continue the ethics discussion later. In fact, if I ever get back to my office on Estaria, I’m sure one of my students has written about this precise scenario.
Now you’re just bullshitting me.
And given the probability of us going back to Estaria, you’ll never know. Besides, one of us here is trying to have a conversation that can potentially save all our arses.
Touche.
Molly noticed Lance rubbing his eyes and then his whole face. He had muted the call and seemed to be having a conversation, perhaps with ADAM.
She waited, watching him going through the motions, processing what must have been complex emotions. She wondered if he was telling anyone else… Like her mom, for instance.
For a moment she felt overcome by an incredible sadness. A loss, at a relationship that didn’t work, but that she mourned nonetheless.
He unmuted his side of the call. “Well, Molly, I think it goes without saying that I’m thrilled that you’re all okay. You must forgive me, this is a lot to take in.”
“Yes, sir. I know that feeling well.”
“Erm, well you should also know that there are considerations that need to be taken into account. For instance, everyone on Estaria knows that you’re dead. Or rather, thinks that you’re dead. Again.”
He tilted his head thoughtfully. “On the plus side, you were pardoned from your fugitive status in your absence.”
Molly smirked. “Thank goodness for small mercies. I should die more often,” she joked.
The General peered at her sternly. “This isn’t a joking matter, Ms. Bates. There are many security concerns that we have. Not least that you have been under alien control for nearly two months. We’ll have to vet you, and there will be a quarantine period, and then we need to decide what to do with you.”
Molly felt palpitations in her chest. “What do you mean ‘what to do with us’?”
“Well, that remains to be seen,” Lance offered, the sternness melting away and giving her a modicum of reassurance, despite his words. “While we figure this out, we should start with the debriefing of each crew member on board. As soon as we get that done, we can decide how to bring you in.”
Molly nodded. “Well okay then. Let me talk to the crew and send the first person in.”
“Good. Thank you,” he responded, a little more officious than his normal manner, now.
Molly got up to leave the lounge.
“And Molly,” he called from the holoscreen, “it really is good to have you back. Even though it’s an administrative and security nightmare.”
Molly smiled before heading out. “Thanks, boss. That means a lot…”
* * *
Molly arrived back in the cockpit. All the laughing and chatter stopped immediately as every face turned to look at her.
“Okay, folks, there’s good news and bad.”
A groan went up from the crew.
“The good news is that it doesn’t sound like he’s about to put us in a lab for the rest of our lives. The bad news is that, as predicted, we do present a security risk. The General and ADAM will run their protocols in order to determine how and when we can integrate back into the world. Part of this means that we will all have to be interviewed.”
She turned her attention to their mechanic-extraordinaire. “I suggest we start with Brock… put him in a good mood, as it were.” She smiled, winking at Brock.
Brock nodded his head once in dutiful acknowledgment, and then started to get up. The others started to move too.
“One more thing,” she interrupted them. “You’re probably going to want to disregard any theories I’ve been bandying about… And any retelling of what I’ve told you I’ve seen. As far as you know—and this is the truth—we were about to be blown up, and then we woke up on the floor of this cockpit. The same cockpit that we were in before the explosion.”
She glanced at each of them in turn as if trying to make her point with her eyes only, so as not to be telling them to lie.
Pieter started to say something, and then stopped himself, slowly lowering his hand back to a resting position.
“And yes,” Molly continued, “that means not mentioning anything to do with the ship. Emma is offline and may well have been deleted somehow. That’s it. Got it?”
There were mutters and mumbles and everyone agreed to the story that was going to buy them their freedom. And maybe their ship. Even though technically it was never their ship in the first place.
“Okay, Brock, you’re up,” she concluded.
The team started chattering amongst themselves as Brock shuffled out of his console chair and headed out of the cockpit. Sean slapped him on the back as he walked past him.
“Okay,” Molly sighed, sitting down next to Crash, in Brock’s seat. “What’ve we found?”
Crash flicked some switches and then brought up a couple of holoscreens to show Molly. “Well first off,” he explained in his cooler-than-cool monotone voice, “no one seems to be answering calls to Gaitune.”
“We’re not meant to be calling anyone!” Molly exclaimed in horror. “Remember?”
Crash nodded. “Right, but since we knew that there weren’t two fleets at each other’s throats right outside, we figured it would be worth taking a risk. Besides, no matter what the General decides, we know we can trust Paige and Maya, no matter what.”
Molly’s anxiety deflated as she exhaled. “Okay. You may have a point,” she conceded. “But no more going off-book. We’ve got to be super careful.”
Crash nodded once more. “Then there’s this,” he said, sliding a holoscreen over to her. “Oz managed to find it on the Gaitune servers without being detected.”
Molly’s eyes flicked from side to side across the screen.
“As you can see,” Crash continued, “we’ve been declared dead. They’ve had memorials for us and everything. Even the Senate. Although there weren’t big celebrations about our victory. And no one knows our names.”
He sounded almost disappointed.
“That’s probably a good thing,” Molly mumbled as she scanned the rest the document. “Okay, no more antics. We gotta fly below the radar on this… But let me know if you find anything else.”
Crash agreed, and Molly got up and headed outside to the corridor again.
* * *
Molly leaned against the steely cold wall of the corridor. She closed her eyes for a moment and tipped her head back against it, stretching her neck. She had woken up so blissfully unaware of anything, other than she was alive again. And now the familiar tension had started creeping back into her neck and shoulders, giving her a headache over her crown.
The door to the cockpit opened and boots clomped into her quiet corridor. She opened one eye and turned her head to see Joel standing there.
“Hey,” she whispered, closing her eye again.
Joel didn’t answer. Instead she just heard the steps against the grating of the ship’s flooring. She opened one eye again to see him pacing and wringing his hands.
“You okay?”
“Erm, yes. I think so.”
She started to close her eyes again.
“Only…”
She opened both eyes again, giving him her attention. “Yes?”
“Well, it’s, like Ben’or was saying.”
Molly frowned, listening.
“He said that, you know, we were done with our old lives. With the duties, the jobs. Probably all the missions too... And he was talking about how, you know, we get a do-over. We get to have something that we couldn’t have before. And I was thinking…”
He started moving towards her. Molly straightened up against the wall, suddenly even more anxious than she had been a few minutes ago. Her heart started palpitating in her chest again.
Joel moved closer into her, and before she knew what was happening he was planting a kiss on her lips.
Several moments passed, and Molly felt herself succumbing to the new possibilities. When he eventually pulled away, her mind scrambled to make light of the situation.
“Well, I think you should take Ben’or’s sage advice more often.” She smiled.
“I think I will,” he agreed, kissing her again.
Chapter 21
Aboard The Empress, Outer Sark System
Brock appeared back in the cockpit.
“How did it go?” Crash asked as he slumped down next to him.
Brock looked like he was still processing the interview. “It sounds like we have options now,” he reported, a little dazed.
“Options like what?” Sean interjected, coming over to stand by the console chairs. Karina wandered over too.
Brock glanced over at Pieter. “You’re up next,” he told him. “Just head straight on in.”
Pieter exhaled and jumped up from his console chair. “Here goes nothing,” he announced, his nerves showing in his expression.
As he ambled out of the cockpit, Sean refocused Brock’s attention on his question. “So, come on. What kind of options?” he pressed.
Brock’s eyes lit up wide. “Like anything. Since we don’t exist anymore, we can do whatever our hearts desire. Like intergalactic spies, for instance!”
Sean’s face fell. Karina placed a hand on his shoulder. “Well, we’ve been there and done that,” she told Brock, as if speaking for Sean too.
Brock narrowed his eyes at them. “We never will know quite what you two have been up to over the years, will we?”
The pair of them shook their heads in tandem.
“Well think of it this way,” Sean explained. “I died, and I took my secrets with me… So that should give you an idea of how likely I am to tell anyone.”
Brock snorted and noticed Crash laughing silently to himself. “Well, we can also retire. The General mentioned a great place called Davos where no one will find us.”
Karina pulled Sean aside. “Hey look, is there somewhere we can go to talk?”
Sean’s expression changed from one of smugness at his Brock-encounter, to one of concern. “Yeah sure, baby.”
Then another thought crossed his mind and turned his expression into the one of his dirty grins.
She patted playfully at his arm. “I’m serious,” she told him.
“So am I,” he retorted as he led her out of the cockpit and through the little door in the corridor that led to the downstairs meeting rooms and med bay.
Just as they reached the main corridor at the bottom of the steps, Oz’s voice came over his implant. “Sean, the General would like to speak to you next, please. Could you make your way up to the lounge?”
Sean’s face flashed with faint annoyance. “Sure,” he sighed. “Sorry, babe. Duty calls,” he told her, kissing her forehead. “Can we do this as soon as I get out? Maybe meet you in the cargo hold… Just this corridor and out of that door, then you’ll recognize where you are. There’s a mocha machine in the little room at the end. It’s not as good as the one in the lounge, but it does the job.”
Karina nodded dutifully. “Sure,” she replied, letting go of his hand and allowing him to scoot back up the stairs they had just come down.
Cargo Hold, Aboard The Empress, Outer Sark System
Sean arrived in the cargo hold where he had arranged to meet Karina again. The new old Little Empress loomed behind her as she hung around, mocha cup in hand.
“So?” Karina asked as he approached. “What options did he give you?”
“Multiple,” he said, vaguely.
“What does that even mean?” she asked.
“Carte blanche. I can rejoin the Federation at my former rank, or I can continue to hang with these knuckleheads. He didn’t seem to mind either way. The only restriction is that none of us can go back to Estaria.”
Karina’s brow furrowed. “And what do you think you want to do?”
Sean shrugged. “I have no idea. Not exactly had a long time to think about this.”
“No,” she agreed, her eyes focusing on the distance.
Sean read the signs and put his hands on her arms. “What do you think?” he asked quietly.
She smiled at him. “I’m glad you asked.”
He smirked at her sense of humor even as they tackled the delicate subject.
“We were talking about retiring from the ops life since… well, we were locked in my father’s basement, if you remember.”
Sean nodded slowly, as the reality of his life changing dawned on him. “You mean…?”
“Start a family.”
Sean swallowed hard. “Wow, that’s… a lot to take on,” he said eventually.
Karina raised her eyebrows almost sarcastically. “Yeah, compared to everything we’ve been through today…”
Sean was looking dazed. “What about the mission?” he asked.
“We’re done. You heard the General—we can do what we want. Stay or go.”
“But, the military is all I know…”
“Time to try something new, eh?”
Sean looked down at the floor, scuffing it with the boot of his toe, thinking. “Well, yeah. Maybe.”
He took a long deep breath. “How about we start with a puppy?”
Cockpit, Aboard The Empress, Outer Sark System
Pieter and Jack sat waiting in the cockpit. Brock had gone to see if he could track down the rumors of a second mocha machine, and Karina and Sean hadn’t been seen for quite some time now.
“Who’s in there now?” Pieter asked.
“Crash, I think,” Jack deduced.
“Brock was looking more nervous once he’d talked to the General,” he observed.
“Yeah, I noticed that,” Jack agreed. “It’s intense though. Nothing like dying to help you reevaluate your life and purpose. It’s a lot to figure out.”
“I’d say,” Pieter concurred.
There were several moments of silence between the pair.
Eventually Pieter spoke. “What went through your mind as the ship exploded?”
Jack took a deep breath, thinking about her answer. “That I wish I’d spent less time worrying about the next mission, and more time enjoying life.”
Pieter nodded, his eyes now glazed over as if deep in thought. “I wished I’d spent more time learning about code. And gardening.”
“Gardening?”
“Yeah, it’s something that has always appealed to me. And I’m fascinated by how things just grow on their own if you give them the right conditions. I always thought that once I was older and had more time I’d create some kind of automated garden. You know, where you have a program that adjusts the parameters of what a crop needs.”
Jack smiled over at him. “Maybe this is your second chance then?”
He bobbed his head gently, tending the idea in his mind. “I think maybe it is. Plus it has massive implications for growing food in hostile environments.”
Corridor Outside the Cockpit, Aboard The Empress, Outer Sark System
Crash came striding out of the lounge. “Your turn again,” he told Molly.
Molly and Joel had been sitting on the floor talking. It reminded Molly of all of those times when they were waiting to go out on exercise. Except back in her training days Joel was the boss and would never be caught sitting next to one of his trainees, chewing the fat.
Molly scrambled to her feet. “Thanks, Crash,” she said, touching his arm as he went by.
“Good luck in there,” he chimed back.
Molly headed back into the lounge, idly wondering if her new body could take mocha. She sat down in front of the holoscreen that was set up.
“Hi, boss,” she announced her arrival to him, settling down into one of the new chairs.
“Ms. Bates, we’ve had a chance to run some scenarios,” he told her.
Molly watched him expectantly, waiting for the verdict.
“It seems that we can allow you some contact… Limited contact… With the outside world. But we can’t have anything that will tell the world that you’re alive. So that means only the most trusted friends and family.”
Molly nodded as she listened to his words, quietly breathing a sigh of relief. She couldn’t bear the thought of Ben’or never being able to see Arlene again.
“But it has to be discreet,” Lance insisted. “No comms that can be intercepted. You’re going to have to rely on the spy craft to bring people in.”
“No problem, sir. We can handle it,” she told him confidently.
He nodded once. “You can all stay at Gaitune, indefinitely. Or at least until you decide what you want to do. At this point, the world is your oyster. I’ll have ADAM send over some tailored options for each of you, and from there you can make your own decisions.”
Molly took a moment to understand that there were no downsides to the situation. “Sir, thank you so much. I know we’ll all be thrilled to be able to contact the rest of the team. And to return to Gaitune.”
“Well, you did prevent all-out war within the Federation, so I suppose you’ve earned it,” he responded, shifting awkwardly in his chair.
Molly smiled. “You’re too kind, sir,” she told him as she started to get up.
“Oh, just one more thing, Molly. Will you have that delinquent of a nephew contact me next time he’s up at Gaitune? I have some things to discuss with him.”
“Absolutely, sir. Thank you again.”
Lance nodded to her and then closed off the connection.
She started to get up again and then noticed Joel peering in through the window of the door. She waved him in.
“So it looks like we can contact our nearest and dearest, and Gaitune is still ours!”
Joel grinned. “Excellent negotiating skills, Ms. Bates!”
She shrugged. “There was no negotiation. Basically he just said ‘here you go,’ and ‘thank you for your service.’”
“Nice. Well at least that saves me from having to figure out how to afford an apartment on Estaria without a Federation income.”
The pair chuckled. “Hey, I was thinking,” Molly said through the giggles, “when we get back to Gaitune… maybe we should go for a beer?”
Joel suddenly made a serious face. “I don’t know. You know what happened last time I agreed to that?”
Molly waited for the punchline.
“I ended up dying!”
Molly smiled. “Was it worth it?”
“Definitely.” He threw his arm around her shoulder and they walked out of the lounge and back to the cockpit to tell the others what the immediate plan was.
Epilogue
Bates Residence, Spire, Estaria
Carol Bates lounged on the sofa, exhausted. “Leave those, Philip. I’ll get them later.”
Philip continued to tidy the plates away. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this,” he told her. “Anything I can do to help.”
There was a pause.
“I still think you ought to take some time off. To… process.”
Carol didn’t respond. She was reading a message on her holo.
Philip appeared in the living room, a tea towel over his shoulder. “You know, it’s bad enough you’re on that thing when you’re working. Can’t you take the night off, at least?”
“I… er…”
Just then Philip felt his holo buzz. He glanced down at it to read the message.
There was another few seconds of silence in the room.
“Did you just get one of these?” he asked, still not taking his eyes from the message.
Carol slowly lifted her gaze to him and nodded.
“We’ve got to get going!” he announced, suddenly animated.
Carol shuffled off the sofa and scrambled to put her shoes back on. “Let’s go!” she agreed, storming towards the door, without considering a jacket or a bag.
Philip grabbed his keys, and a sweater, and followed her out.
Student Residences, Skóli Uppstigs Academy, Spire, Estaria
Paige emerged from the bathroom still wearing a towel. She was vaguely aware of her holo buzzing on the dresser on the other side of the room. It wasn’t until Maya called her attention to it that she headed over to pick it up.
Maya suddenly sat up on her bed. “Oh my ancestors,” she gasped.
Paige read her holo too. “No way!”
The pair looked at each other.
“You think that maybe…?” Paige didn’t dare finish her sentence.
Maya was up like a flash, dithering to repack her case. “I think… yeah,” she exclaimed, busying herself.
“Shit!” Paige squealed. “Clothes. I need clothes!”
The dorm room became a flurry of activity as the two hurriedly prepared to leave. They had less than half an hour before they needed to be somewhere else. Urgently.
Giles’s Office, Skóli Uppstigs Academy, Spire, Estaria
Giles felt his holo buzz. He ignored it. It buzzed again.
Slowly he peeled his face off the desk in front of him. His head was pounding with the force of a thousand tiny hammers, on account of the Yollin whiskey he’d been knocking back since four o’clock that afternoon.
Disheveled, he rubbed his face, then his eyes, and then he peered at the holo.
It took a second for him to register what the message was telling him. He adjusted his glasses and read it again. Then he sat up, thought about whether it meant what he hoped it meant, or whether he was just being delusional.
He glanced down at his arm and pinched himself.
Nope, definitely awake, he confirmed.
Then it hit him. He needed to get going. Scrambling to his feet and trying to gather his gear at the same time, he started to sober up. Within a few minutes he was leaving the office in a flash, with the excitement of a two-year-old being taken to a candy store.
A moment later, he stormed purposefully back in to the office. He pulled up the last holoscreen he’d been using on his console and closed down the application form that he’d been filling out, without saving it.
“Not going to need that anymore,” he decided out loud.
And then he was out of the door like a flash.
Bailey Residence, Spire, Estaria
Arlene was in the kitchen making a snack. Since the new normal had established itself, she didn’t bother to make proper meals any more. She and Anne instead tended to just eat snacks when they were hungry.
If she was honest, she wasn’t even hungry. But it was something to do. Something to occupy her and fill the void of despair that hadn’t left her.
Just then her holo vibrated.
She frowned. She set all the settings to “do not disturb” weeks ago.
She glanced down at it, read the message, and then carried on making her sandwich.
A moment later she stopped, opened the holo screen again, and re-read the message.
“Anne!” she called through to the other room. “Anne! I think we need to pack a bag. We need to go. Now.”
Anne appeared at the kitchen counter. “Why? What’s going on? Has someone found me?” Her face was taught with anxiety.
Arlene had tears streaming down her face. “No, sweetheart. No one’s found you. We’re safe. I just think it’s time for us to take a trip back to Gaitune.”
Anne stood frozen for a second. And then suddenly she sprang into action, shouting for Neechie, while trying to pack up a bag at the same time.
* * *
The holo message they each received read:
“Party on Gaitune. Guess who’s back.
Your pod leaves from [coordinates] at 21:00”
Hangar Deck, Base, Gaitune-67
Molly eased back in her chair as The Empress took the final few seconds to land in the hangar deck. Oz had had to perform a series of bizarre security bypasses in order to get the hangar doors open, but finally they were able to land.
How’s our other project going? she asked him.
I’m tracking four inbound pods. ETA six minutes.
Molly smiled to herself. This is going to be some party…
Author Notes
If you’re wondering what happened to all of the hilarious authors’ notes that both Ellie and Mike wrote, don’t fear. We have them on our website for your free download. They turned out to be sooooooooooooooo long, we had to take them out of this giant boxed set cuz it was way too big to upload to Amazon!
Literally, the author’s notes are a book in themselves. They came in at almost 50K words! Geeze, you’d think these two authors could have used those words for another book, but no. Instead we get to see inside of their devious and sometimes crazy minds!
So, if you want to see what it was like for them both to write this outstanding series together, then check out: https://lmbpn.com/authors-notes-for-the-ascension-myth-complete-series-boxed-set/
Books written by Ell Leigh Clarke
The Ascension Myth
* With Michael Anderle *
Awakened (01)
Activated (02)
Called (03)
Sanctioned (04)
Rebirth (05)
Retribution (06)
Cloaked (07)
Bourne (08)
Committed (09)
Subversion (10)
Invasion (11)
Ascension (12)
Confessions of a Space Anthropologist
* With Michael Anderle *
Giles Kurns: Rogue Operator (1)
Giles Kurns: Rogue Instigator (2)
The Second Dark Ages
*with Michael Anderle*
Darkest Before The Dawn (3)
Dawn Arrives (4)
Interplanetary Spy For Hire
*with Michael Anderle*
Expelled
Exposed
Deuces Wild
*with Michael Anderle*
Beyond The Frontiers (1)
Rampage (2)
Labyrinth (3)
Birthright (4)
Resolution (5)
The Sword-Mage Chronicles
Awakening
Taken
Heist
Resistance
Legba
Storm
Books by Michael Anderle
For a complete list of books by Michael Anderle, please visit:
www.lmbpn.com/ma-books/
All LMBPN Audiobooks are Available at Audible.com and iTunes. For a complete list of audiobooks visit:
www.lmbpn.com/audible
Connect With The Authors
Receive updates from Oz by registering your holo/ email address here:
ellleighclarke.com
Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/ellleighclarke/
Michael Anderle Social
Website:
https://lmbpn.com/
Email List:
https://lmbpn.com/email/
Facebook Here:
https://www.facebook.com/TheKurtherianGambitBooks/