by S. H. Jucha
Alex was sure that the offer to the Council to participate in the conclave would rankle Lemoyne, Teressi, and their supporters. He wondered what action the Leaders might initiate. The thought crossed his mind to check with Gino on the status of the two Leaders and see if they still held their seats. However, when plates of warm food and hot thé were placed in front of him, the thought was placed on hold.
When the meal ended, Alex prepared to return Gino’s call, but Julien intercepted him.
“You’ve a lengthy message from Mickey and friends,” Julien said. “Might I suggest you and Ser make yourself comfortable in the salon, and you invite some guests?”
Alex smiled at his friends and nodded. There was no need to ask more or who should be invited. Julien would arrange those things and probably better and quicker than he could.
When a collection of close associates arrived at the owner’s suite, Julien activated the holo-vid in the central table. Then he relayed Mickey’s message from the controller, where it had been spooling.
Alex saw Renée’s frown. It was aimed his way.
At this time, a vid insert arrived, and the holo-vid displayed a view from Luther of the console sliding rearward to open a section of the deck.
Jess continued,
An image of a tool appeared in the holo-vid. Its small size was evident by the gloved hand that held it.
Mickey laughed.
The trio watched a compressed time vid of the Re-Gen dome’s relocation.
The audience heard Mickey’s generous laughter.
The scene shifted to the firing of plasma rifles into the regolith, and the flashes of light, billowing clouds of dust, and noise caused the humans in Alex’s audience to furrow brows or tweak lips in confused smiles.
Alex sensed Mickey’s contrition. He wished he was there to lay a hand on his friend’s shoulder and tell him that the mistake was easily forgivable.
The audience watched the dome take shape within several minutes. Then the moment that they had been waiting for unfolded.
Then the platform deck was obscured by swirling dust.
Mickey chuckled.
Alex felt regret for the monumental task he’d asked Mickey to accomplish, and his face displayed his sadness. When he heard Miriam’s voice, he glanced up.
While Alex and company considered the outpost’s news, Miranda and Z connected to Winston, the SADE who led the Confederation’s SADEs and maintained the Council’s records.
A controller’s voice was heard within the Council chamber, and it announced the votes for Leader Lemoyne’s dismissal.
When Darse heard that he’d been thrown out of the powerful Confederation Council, he rose in anger. His face was apoplectic, and he pointed an accusing finger at Gino, who stood before the tiers of Leaders.
“You’ll bring ruin on the Confederation by your liaison with that renegade Alex Racine,” Darse shouted. Then he swung his attention to the rows of Leaders, knowing many who had voted against him. “If you are too frightened to abort this disastrous alliance, then it’s left to those of us to have the courage to do something about it to save our society.”
With those words, Darse Lemoyne shoved his way out of his row, up the steps, and out of the Council chamber.
There was a silence that extended much longer than SADEs would normally have allowed. Z signaled Miranda to wait. Finally, Winston must have come to a conclusion. He sent,
After the conversation with Winston, Z and Miranda retired to an engineering lab to make modifications to their Cedric and Frederica avatars.
In the owner’s salon, Alex finished the discussion with his audience. His final words were, “Mickey and many individuals have given us a wonderful opportunity.” His thought was that the discovery would allow him to tempt the Council to join the conclave and send an appropriate number of Leaders.
The audience, except for Julien, left the salon. Then Alex requested a link to Gino, but it was intercepted again.
“Your pardon, Alex, but we’ve a need to discuss information gleaned from Winston,” Julien explained. Then he shared the conversation.
Renée regarded Alex. She kept her eyes locked on him and waited for his reaction.
Alex turned to Julien and said, “We need the Confederation Council at the conclave. The only way to accomplish that is to make a personal appeal to the Leaders.”
“Agreed,” Julien replied.
“Then there’s nothing else to be done,” Alex said resignedly. He looked at Renée, who swiftly retorted, “Don’t even think it. If anything, you’re the target. You should remain aboard the Freedom, and I’ll make the presentation to the Council.”
“I would advise that both of you stay extremely close to Miranda and Z. Never leave their sides,” Julien said.
If Julien had his way, the Freedom would sail from Confederation space, and Alex and Renée would never return.
“Speaking of Winston, I’d like to talk to him,” Alex said.
Alex grinned at Julien.
23: Assassins
A Confederation class one freighter entered New Terran space, and the controller searched for a digital drop box. When it was located, a message was sent, and then the link was truncated.
Rafe, which wasn’t the man’s real name, finished his workout, used the refresher, and checked his drop box. It contained two messages. He read the first and deleted it. Then he opened the second one, read it, and reread it. After thinking the sender’s proposal was worth considering, he sent a short signal.
A quarter hour later, a grav cycle dropped onto Rafe’s roof. The man, who went by the name of Bryce, entered a code into a panel beside a trapdoor laid into the roof. He levered the door up, climbed down a few stairs, and closed the door. He heard the snicks of significant bolts sliding home.
“Opportunity?” Bryce asked. That was the usual reason for the signal he received.
Rafe grunted and pointed to the monitor.
Bryce read the message three times. “Legit?” he inquired.
“Tracked it back to a Confederation freighter that entered our space,” Rafe replied. “The message had to have been a priority. It was sent shortly after the freighter exited transit.”
“Nice bunch of credits,” Bryce commented. “That much sounds like a political target. That makes it dangerous.”
Rafe grunted again. His mind was already made up. Bryce was the careful one of the assassin pair, and Rafe had to let him dwell on the few details offered before he would reach his own conclusion.
“Fairly vague on the timing, the opportunity, and security,” Bryce said.
“Yeah, but a hundred thousand for showing up and listening to the offer,” Rafe said. Then he handed a spiced stim drink to his partner.
Bryce tipped his head and accepted the drink. They’d be packing and booking passage on a liner for Méridien.
Nearly a week later, the pair of men met a figure on a dark evening. The conversation was terse, as each side attempted to determine the other’s reliability.
“Transfer the one hundred thousand. We’re out of here,” Rafe growled. “You’re not the primary, and we don’t deal with intermediaries.”
The assassins slowly backed away from the figure, who had remained in the dark, with his face cloaked by a hood.
“Wait,” a woman said from the shadows. She stepped forward until a shaft of light fell across her face. “You’re dealing with me.”
“Who are you?” Bryce asked. His slate vibrated, a
nd he checked it. Then he showed it to Rafe. The one hundred thousand credits had been sent and received.
“Okay, you’re bona fide. You control the credits. What’s the job?” Rafe asked.
“There are three targets: a primary, a secondary, and a tertiary,” the woman said. “They will always be together. Bonuses are offered for the secondary and the tertiary. However, if the primary is not eliminated, then there will be no payments for any of them.”
“Where are these opportunities to take place?” Bryce asked.
“You’ll be given a set of film sheets with the details,” the woman replied. “The opportunities, as you call them, will take place on Méridien in two possible locations and one guaranteed place.”
“When?” Bryce requested.
“Unknown,” the woman replied. “The targets are on their way here. We expect them in about four to five cycles.”
“Are the targets human?” Rafe asked. He was starting to have a nagging feeling about the job.
“The primary and secondary are human, but the tertiary is a SADE,” the woman replied.
“Security?” Rafe inquired. He was sure he knew what the woman would say.
“Two SADEs housed in considerable avatars,” the woman responded.
Rafe and Bryce shared knowing glances.
“You’re targeting Alex Racine,” Bryce said.
“Yes. Is that a problem?” the woman asked, as if it should be of no great concern.
“Depends,” Rafe replied calmly. “What are you offering?”
Daphne Lemoyne reeled off amounts for each target. She intended to start low to see if the New Terrans would be foolish enough to accept.
“No,” Rafe said, slashing his hand to emphasize his rejection. “It doesn’t matter whether we’re successful or not in taking out Alex Racine. When we attempt it, that will be our final job. We’ll be going into hiding for the rest of our lives, and you had better make it worth our while.”
Certainly not idiots, Daphne thought, which made her feel better about her selection. She tried again by tripling the offer and was met by the harsh laughter of both men.