by Sean Platt
“Not with that fucking troll’s papery snatch under me.”
Green sighed. “So. No mature, genuine thoughts?”
“I gave you some earlier. I insighted that this process is pointless. You can tell I’m of sound mind.”
“Have it your way. No matter what your words say, I’m getting the data I need from…”
Green stopped. Doc tried turning to see the man better, but his head was gripped in the sphere. Something in its heart flashed. Lines, like circuits, lit and crawled around him like the tunnels of fast-burrowing worms.
At the desk, Green was tapping his controls as if trying to chase something down.
“Mr. Stahl? Are you all right over there?”
Lights inside the sensor flashed faster. More circuit lines were forming.
“Why wouldn’t I be fine?” But now that Green had asked, Doc didn’t feel fine at all. Because until whatever it was that had just started, he’d been watching the room through the big globe…but now that things seemed to be going amiss, he saw it only as confinement. It didn’t matter that he could see through the insight sensor; it was a small box and his head was trapped inside it.
“I’m sorry. Hold on.”
“What are you sorry for? What’s going on?”
“It’s…I’ve never seen these particular insights before. Stand by.”
“‘Stand by’? I’m not Ground Control waiting for Major Tom!”
“Hang on. Just a minute.”
Lights slowed. Flashing stopped. Then there was a heave, and as the giant sphere vanished, Doc flopped back like a rag doll. He didn’t realize how hard he’d been breathing.
Green came in front of him, alternating his gaze between Doc and his rapidly streaming handheld.
“Mr. Stahl, have you ever worked for an NAU government agency?”
“No. Why?”
“Have you traveled to anywhere in Europe? Australia? Any of the Wild East at all?”
“No. What’s going on?”
“The insight sensor measures your aptitudes. It tells us, based on neural development, genetics, and flags associated with your ID, what you’re likely to be best at. Its insights are important to the assessment, but only above the line of responsibility. In other words, few Enterprise citizens are truly found unfit, and as you suggested, it’s obvious just from meeting you that you’re plenty fit. Insights comprise a kind of personality test, used in aggregate policy making, to determine the temperature’ of Enterprise as a whole. Yours is a self-deterministic party, but Directorate is not. Both parties are insighted, both subtly and in overt tests like this. It’s important data. In your case, you seem…different.”
Doc sat up. Something was strange, beyond the recent malfunction.
“Why are you being polite to me?” Doc asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re being almost respectful.”
“I should hope so,” he said, flustered.
“But you weren’t before. Just another job. Just another old lady fucker, right?”
“I didn’t say that. I just misunderstood what — ”
Doc nodded along, but Green was covering his tracks. He had the look of a man who’d gone in to speak to a high-roller, but hadn’t realized who he was talking to until his grave was dug.
“Whatever.” Doc nodded toward the handheld. “So do I pass?”
“Of course.”
“What about my insights? What does your gizmo say I’m good at?”
Green glanced down then up. “I’m afraid I can’t share that, sir.”
Sir.
“Why not?”
“It’s confidential data.”
“But it’s my data. About me. How can that be confidential?”
“The law is the law, I’m afraid.”
But The Beam wasn’t the only one in the room that could tell lies from truth. Green was holding something back. Something that had put that big, stupid holo-afro on high alert.
The tester began stuffing objects into a bag as if preparing to leave. He hit something on the desk, and a small printer rose from its surface, creating a chip from resin. Ten seconds later, Green was planting the still-warm chip into Doc’s hand. The thing wasn’t flat; it looked a bit like a miniature puzzle. Probably designed to be printed that way for security, hard to counterfeit.
“When you get home, feed that into any Beam port. You won’t get it back. It will authenticate your system anew and keep us off your back for another twenty years, until your next test.”
Doc pocketed the chip. Then he looked up and saw it: what was different, what the tester was lying about.
“I won’t have another test, will I?”
“What? Oh, yes. Of course you will, in twenty years.”
“You don’t think I will. Something gave me a pass, didn’t it? That’s what you didn’t expect.”
“No, no, of course not.”
But Doc was still watching the man. Still trying to see what else he had to offer. Something in Doc’s guess wasn’t quite right, but it was close.
Green leaned close to grab something from the coffee table, and when he did, Doc snatched his handheld. The screen blanked almost immediately, probably unlocked only when being held by its owner. But the flash was long enough for Doc to see something interesting.
He gave the handheld back to Green.
“What’s ‘Sector aptitude’?”
“It’s what the system calls a passing score.”
“No, it’s not. I could see the testing date field. There wasn’t one. I don’t have a next testing date. So don’t give me bullshit about pass not just being called pass. So what’s that mean, about my aptitude? And why don’t I need to be tested again?”
“Testing dates aren’t determined until I sync the data.”
“The test uses live Beam. Why would it need to sync?”
Doc didn’t realize he’d taken hold of Green’s sleeve. The tester yanked away, indignant or maybe afraid.
“This session is concluded, Mr. Stahl. I will show you out.”
Doc stood, watching Green as he made his way to the door. When they reached the apartment’s exit, Doc turned one final time.
“What does your test say I’m good at?”
“Lying,” Green snapped. Then he slammed the antique door in Doc’s face.
“I am good at lying,” Doc told the empty hallway. “But you’re not.”
After Dominic was halfway across the DZPD bullpen and duly distracted by pressing cop business, Kate turned and walked back to his office. She avoided eye contact with other officers and avoided the louder sectors where Quark PD was still putting on its publicity display. Cops were human, Directorate, and mostly poor. They were adequate investigators, but if they were inquisitive or daring outside their line of work, they’d be Enterprise. They wouldn’t ask when the tall blonde who’d been with the captain retraced a few steps…as long as she acted confident, like she had every right to do it. As to the Quark officers? Well, any clerics among them might see things differently.
Kate scanned the room as she walked, watching for turned heads. Thanks to the tumult (Dominic had run off to handle yet another riot, getting distracted midway by a ping, muttering about Organas of all things), few heads turned. She timed her arrival at Dominic’s door to coincide with when the few who’d noticed her of-course-I’m-allowed-to-be-here strut were looking down or away.
Dominic’s door was still ajar. The thumbtack Kate had pressed into the old wood a half second before Dominic, distracted, had yanked at the door behind them was in place.
Wooden fucking doors, she thought with disbelief. Thank West for police getting the shit end of the stick.
And thank West that Captain Long clearly wanted to get in her panties. Thank West that he’d been so interested in ogling her tits that she’d been able to pry open what should have been more guarded lips.
Our security is a tenth of what Quark gives itself in the Quark PD wing, he’d complained to her
a few days back. Why, not long ago we had a simple outage — hackers stormed right in and thumbed through my files.
Doc Stahl had known hackers. Not amazing hackers, but hackers who were decent enough to cause an outage and plant a new set of permissions. Not for someone living, of course, because that would be an unforgivable breach of security. But permissions for a missing person — like Doc himself, say — would pass just fine. Permissions accessible not by an ID scan, but by a neural fingerprint.
Kate slipped into the office and closed the door, tossing the thumbtack into the trashcan.
Once in, she activated Dominic’s console — which, bless the police, seemed about as secure as a lockbox held fast with a twig. She removed her handheld, scanned her blonde head, and used the custom algorithm to create the fingerprint. Then she sent the authorization to the canvas and activated her permissions. Kate couldn’t browse department files or access Dominic’s personal files, of course, but she didn’t want or need to. She, like cliché criminals from generations of films, needed only one call.
She keyed around, accessed her buffer memory, and painstakingly made the secure connection. She didn’t trust the department’s protocols in and of themselves after the ease of this infiltration, so she sent the call she meant to make through two Beam proxies before sending it out on its AI-driven leash to sniff for her contact. Then she waited. And while waiting, Kate marveled at Dominic’s setup. His console was just that: an on-desk console, boxy and awkward. No holos, or immersion. It would be voice only, and she’d be speaking to something that seemed two hundred years old.
Fortunately, voice was all she wanted.
Kate popped a piece of gum into her mouth. Then, before the recipient could answer, she pulled the pink wad from between her full lips and pressed it against the cam, blocking its view.
“Yes?” said Nicolai’s voice.
“Do you know who this is?”
“Um…Capt. Dominic Long.’” He sounded like he was reading off a display. He also sounded like he didn’t think Dominic was a good name for a girl.
“It’s Kate.”
“Kate who?”
“Kate who used to be someone you knew well enough to not ask stupid questions.”
“I don’t think I know any Kate. Want to go visual?”
“This ain’t a peep show, Nicolai. My tits are fine, but you can’t see ’em.”
Pause. Then: “Um. Okay, Captain Long.”
“I’m just using Long’s connection. Look. It’s Kate. Kate. Think hard, asshole.”
“Hang on. You aren’t…”
“Kate.”
“Kate who?” But he knew. He knew, now.
“Kate whose dick your girlfriend used to ride when she wasn’t on yours.”
Nicolai ignored the insult. Apparently, jealousy didn’t matter when your old stallion of an upgrades dealer called you as a woman.
“Doc?”
“Kate!” Kate hissed.
“You’re calling? Why the hell are you calling me? You’re supposed to keep low!”
“Why do you think I broke into a police captain’s office to make this call? It’s as secure as I can make it. But thanks for going ahead and giving anyone listing the big spoiler anyway. That’s helpful. Look, I need you to do something for me.”
Another pause.
“Um, I think you’ve used up all your favors from me, Kate.”
“Your neck was in the noose when all that went down, too. Don’t act like this is my fault. Don’t act like I wanted this!”
“Well, now you’re risking it all. Including me. Thanks for that.”
“Cop connection to Micah Ryan’s stooge’s connection. Through two proxies. Yeah, I think we’ll be okay.”
“You, maybe. But Micah already knows I’m up to something. I can tell. You saw the kind of shit the Beau Monde has access to. Micah might be listening to this right now. You think he can’t find you? You think he won’t have a problem with me for my part? Or with Kai? You’re risking all of us!”
“Shut up, Nicolai. I called, so the fuck what. Die is cast. Either we’re busted or we ain’t, so we might as well make the most of it. I wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t important.”
Nicolai sighed on the other end of the connection. “Okay, fine. What is it?”
“Do you know Captain Long?”
“I’ve heard Isaac talk about him. I know who he is. But not personally, no.”
“What about Omar Jones?”
“No. Should I know him?”
“Craig Braemon. You know him?”
“Banker. Yes, I know who he is.”
“How well do you know him?”
“Not at all. I know he’s powerful. Doesn’t have a fantastic reputation, but maybe I’m being unfair. Why?”
“Because Long and Omar have something brewing around Braemon,” Kate said.
“Brewing how? They’re all working together?”
“Yeah. And me. To do something with Braemon. To…get some shit out of him.”
“What kind of shit?”
“I’m not sure. Omar is a sneaky little fucker. And this Long? He might be stupid. Omar knows who I used to be, but the cop thinks I’m just a smuggler. I’m going along with their plan, but I don’t trust Omar one bit. I need leverage.”
Kate broke the next pause before Nicolai could.
“You hearing me, Nicolai?”
“I’m sorry. It’s just hard to take you seriously when you sound like a girl.”
“That’s sexist.”
Nicolai laughed. Kate was sure the laugh was at Doc’s expense. Not Kate’s. Doc’s.
“Look. I’m kind of up to my pits here. I don’t have much as Kate, but I still want what’s mine. Omar seems to be claiming he can make Beau Monde happen. I plan to hedge my bets because you can’t trust Omar worth dick, but it’s possible he’s right. Braemon seems connected. And I know Beau Monde is on your bucket list, too. And our lady friend’s.”
“Okay.” Nicolai sounded suspicious.
“I’m all alone. It’s me, Omar, and Long. And — ”
“I don’t mean to point out the obvious,” Nicolai said, “but the whole point was for you to be alone.”
“Sure, but — ”
“You know, so you could stay alive. Accepting existential loneliness as the price of continued living.”
“Dammit, Nicolai, Omar has me by the balls!”
Nicolai laughed again.
Kate barged on, ignoring the bait. “Supposed to be a threeway deal. Omar gets money, Long gets…well, I guess he’s in some drug shit and needs to get out. I get Beau Monde. So, fine. And I’d accept it if I didn’t know Omar better, but I do. And now, this cop, Long? I was just talking to him, and he can’t keep his mouth shut because he wants to fuck me.”
Another bark of laughter.
“Suffice to say he don’t trust Omar neither. Nobody who knows Omar trusts him worth shit. So Long is blabbing on about things he suspects — ways he thinks Omar might be planning to screw us at this Braemon event.”
“Wait…the Violet James Foundation benefit?”
“Yeah. Why?”
Nicolai sounded baffled. “I’m going to that,” he said.
“That’s why I’m calling,” Kate snapped. “Long told me. He’s got his deductions all wrong because he don’t know who I used to be, but he’s a cop, all right. And even though he’s drawing the wrong conclusions, his reasoning seems spot on. The way he figures it, it’s awfully coincidental that Omar has set up our little caper to happen at the same party where you’re in attendance, along with the Ryans.”
“Why do I matter?”
“He knows we’re connected.” Kate waved at the empty room and corrected herself. “Not me. Doc.”
“So he does know about Doc. Long, I mean.”
“No. Doc is…involved in this. It’s tricky. I don’t feel like trying to explain that now. Doc doesn’t matter. Long thinks he does, but he’s wrong because I’ve got the inside track
with Doc, and I know he’ll do what I say. Me and that motherfucker go way back. Point is, I agree. Omar doesn’t do coincidence. He’s got a connection to Braemon. I knew something of it before. He says he’s got a grudge, but he also says Braemon knows stuff and can do stuff. But Long? He says Braemon was accused of Shift tampering back in ’91. Never convicted. But you ask me, messing with Shift for personal gain — and maybe not caring which partners you fuck along the way? That sounds a lot like Omar Jones.”
“So what do you want from me?”
“Another inside track. Omar knows shit I don’t. He’s up to something. I need a counterweight.”
“But you know about Doc.”
“Omar knows about Doc. It’s Long that doesn’t know. But as far as I can guess from knowing your Citizen Scout ass all these years and hearing that goody-two-shoes story from Kai about the two of you, I don’t think you’d go on Omar’s side and lie to my face. Not with our history. Not after helping me pull off my magical disappearing act.”
“And?”
“Long may think Omar’s got you figured out, but I don’t think so. I want you on my side.”
Nicolai sighed. “I’m through taking sides.”
“You can’t not take sides!” Kate blurted. “You ain’t stupid, Nicolai! You know Micah Ryan was behind what happened to us. You saw it! You know about Beau Monde; you’re just as pissed about it all as I am. You don’t take a side, you get squashed in the middle when Micah tries slamming his balls against whatever they’re doing to screw Directorate. Omar and Micah. Now, you’ve never liked Micah, though you like his party. Are you spineless? You want Omar to use your ass and toss it aside? Or are you going to be a fucking man?”
Nicolai was silent again. Finally, he said, “Fine. You want to tell me what to do?”
“For now, just know. And check out Braemon if you can, and anything about Shift, the Ryans, their mother — ”
“Their mother?”
“Long said something about their mother. I didn’t ask much, but I guess he suspects she’s involved somehow, too.”
Nicolai took a thoughtful moment then said, “Okay. What else?”
“I don’t know much more, and the rest you won’t care about. I can’t get in touch between now and Braemon’s thing, so we’ll talk then. You see me at the party, hit on me and act like you’re picking me up. I’m the super-tall blonde with giant humps. Nobody will blame you for trying to get some of my fine ass. We’ll sneak off and touch base then. Just watch for Omar. He’s a thin black guy, always wears — ”