by M. D. Cooper
“You’d understand if you had to deal with Danny,” Petra replied as she turned away from the window and sat in one of the steel chairs next to the small table. “OK. Get ‘em off me.”
The agent looked down at the two spikes, one of which had a sizable hole through it. “I’m surprised you could even walk with one of the a-gravs blown out. These things look like torture devices.”
Petra only nodded silently as the other agent slid her chair over and pulled one of the long spikes onto her lap to remove it.
It came off a minute later, and Petra pulled her foot across her opposite thigh, sucking in a long breath as she massaged its arch, carefully bending it back into its normal position.
“Stars…it was fine while in there, but I’m pretty sure my achilles tendon shrank by a few centimeters.”
Danielle shook her head as she lifted Petra’s other foot and released it from its confines as well. “Let me.” She gestured for both feet, and Petra obliged, sighing as the other woman gently massaged her feet.
“Now that looks great! Danielle, I’ve been on my feet all night. Can I get one of those too?”
She didn’t break eye contact with Petra’s feet, but her lips twisted into a smirk. “Did you get shot?”
“No, but if that’ll get your hands on me, I’ll put a hole in my leg right now.”
“Maybe put one in your—”
“Danielle,” Petra cautioned. “Be nice, he brought food.”
“Fine, but I’m still not touching your nasty feet, Mains.”
The man set one of the cases he carried on the floor and the other on the table. “Nasty? Legions of adoring lovers have told me I have amazing feet.”
Petra tilted her head, meeting the man’s eyes. “I—no, nevermind, I don’t want to know. Did you get it all?”
“What do you take me for, Director? Of course I got it all.” He opened the case on the table and pulled out an unmarked cylinder. “ISF flow armor.” Another cylinder settled beside it, looking very much like the first. “And flowmetal.”
“Excellent,” Petra nodded with satisfaction. “But I was more concerned with the food. Did you get my BLT with the bread toasted? The field marshal turned me on to that, and now it’s no good any other way.”
“Who would ever have a BLT not with toasted bread?” Danielle asked, finally stopping her massage and setting Petra’s feet on the floor before she rose and walked to the sink.
“Barbarians, that’s who,” Mains replied, pulling a bag out of the case and then extracting a wrapped sandwich. “Here you are, Director. Toasted, of course.”
Petra smiled as she unwrapped the BLT and took a bite. “Stars…so much better than that pretentious restaurant’s fare. Next time Diana and I go out to eat, I’m going to introduce her to real food.”
“Next time?” Danielle asked as she finished washing her hands. “Do you really think there will be one of those?”
Petra shrugged. “Well, maybe not a dinner out, but I’m confident we can smooth this over. We just need to find the perpetrator and get proof that we’re the wronged party.”
“Well, that starts with our friend, the head.” Mains nodded to the severed head that sat wrapped in plas on the counter.
“So you got the other thing?” Petra asked.
Alastar commented.
“You stabilized his mods, but to do this properly, it’s better to hook him up to the machine. Besides, I don’t want to waste flowmetal building all the interfaces.”
As they’d spoken, Mains opened the second case and placed a machine on the table. It would interface with the Impera Protego captain’s mods and attempt to ascertain what, if anything, he knew about the person who had perpetrated the attack on Petra.
Danielle grabbed her sandwich from the bag and settled into a seat by the window. “I’m not going to watch that while I eat.”
“I didn’t think you were squeamish,” Petra said as she took another bite of her BLT.
“I’m not, but there’s enjoying a good ruben, and then there’s watching someone connect a severed head to an interrogator while you eat a ruben. I’ll go with the former.”
Mains laughed as he grabbed the head and set it on the machine. “I can appreciate that. This isn’t my favorite pastime, either, but our great leader is besmirched, so do it I must.”
“Speaking of besmirching,” Petra said around a mouthful of BLT. “How’s Harold doing?”
“Hating life,” Mains replied. “The Impera Protego are all over the spire, but we kept most of the important Hand data offsite, of course. We’re also a lot better at scrubbing things than the Scipians are at searching for them. Honestly, the fact that the empress’s guard detail is spearheading the investigation is rather odd. If her cadre of spies had been sent in, it would be a different ballgame.”
“Of course Diana’s spies were sent in,” Danielle said. “They’re just disguised as guards.”
Mains snorted. “Well yeah, but it’s just a few of them. Harold has it handled. Don’t worry.”
“What about Admiral Malachi?” Petra asked. “Hopefully he’s not fretting too much.”
The agent nodded as he fussed over the machine and then the head, connecting a series of probes to it.
“Well, he’s not happy. He’s shut everything down for now. General Farah wants to land another platoon on the planet to search for you, but the empress’s people aren’t having it. She’s not weighed in herself—probably doesn’t know about that part of things.”
“I wouldn’t count on that,” Petra said. “She has a lot of eyes.”
“A lot of eyes that funnel through Chimellia,” Danielle qualified.
Petra pursed her lips and nodded. “She’s mixed up in all of this, that’s for sure. No way the empress’s guards got sucked into a plot to kill and/or frame us and she didn’t catch wind of it.”
“I still think it’s the prelates,” Mains said then glanced down at the severed head. “OK, here we go. Looks like things are still in relatively good condition. Mods are intact, though most began self-deletion routines as soon as you severed his head—”
“Expected,” Petra interjected.
“Yeah,” Mains nodded. “But there will be something in here. There always is.”
A PAIR OF CONVERSATIONS
STELLAR DATE: 10.07.8948 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Imperial Palace
REGION: Alexandria, Bosporus System, Scipio Empire
Chimellia saw Doctor Corbin out of Diana’s office and then turned back to face the empress.
“I didn’t think he would know anything,” she said. “And it would have been better if I’d investigated him without him realizing he was under suspicion.”
“No.” Diana shook her head. “I wanted to look into his eyes, Chimellia—which did not fully convince me. Ensure that he examines the surviving Protegos from the dock. I want to know if their loyalty was compromised in any way. I expect a personal report.”
“Of course,” Chimellia nodded soberly, watching as the empress paced across her office’s opal floor. “I think you should rest, My Empress. You’ve been awake for over a day.”
“I have mods,” Diana snapped. “They can keep me awake for a week.”
“Your body, yes, but what of your mind?” the sum adjut asked. “You need to process this. Petra has—”
“Done nothing wrong that we know of. All we know is that she was in a fight with the Impera Protego on the dock, but we don’t know why.” The woman spun, taking a step toward Chimellia. “I want to know why!”
The head of the palace drew a slow, measured breath, not backing away, though her gaze slid down from the empress’s eyes. “I do too, Diana. Truly. But you have to be willing to accept that Petra—”
“I will accept evidence,
” she spat angrily. “That is it. Nothing less.”
“Of course,” Chimellia replied with a deferential nod. “I need to go check on things and ensure the doctor does as he’s told. I think he should re-evaluate the rest of your guards as well.”
“See to it.” Diana gave an imperious wave and turned back to the window, the tilt of her head giving away a conversation with the AI that rested between her ears.
Not waiting for some other whim to come over the empress, the sum adjut beat a hasty retreat. Once out of the imperial offices, she stalked through the palace’s wide corridors, barely noticing those she passed; though to a person, they all gave the scowling woman a wide berth.
After fifteen minutes, Chimellia finally reached her destination, a small comm relay and monitoring station that was both well-shielded and rarely used. It was one of the locations she used to manage her network of informants and contacts.
Once certain that the equipment had not been tampered with, the sum adjut activated one of the consoles to see a dozen alerts vying for her attention. She gave them a cursory review and then activated a secondary interface and tunneled her connection through a chain of relays before finally reaching the man with whom she wished to speak.
“Shadow,” she said aloud. “What have you found?”
Though she knew he had received her message, he didn’t respond for almost a minute. “OK, our connection is secure.”
“I know that,” Chimellia retorted. “I’ve been at this for decades. Now. Have you found her?”
“She’s elusive. I’ve spotted some movement amongst the Hand’s informants in the city, but her agents are good. Very good.”
The sum adjut nodded in annoyance. “I imagine so, they’ve been operating under our noses for ages. But now that we know about them, they shouldn’t be able to hide so well.”
“You’d think.” Shadow gave a rueful laugh. “I have a few leads, though, and good people working on them. I’ll know more soon.”
“And what of the attack…. Has anything new been learned?”
“Whatever is to be known is in that head Petra took. If she can plumb its depths, then she’ll learn who was really behind the attempt on her life.”
“Then we must find her and that head!” Chimellia snapped. “And what of Prelate Fiona? Has she given any indication of a shift?”
“Not yet. I’m going to visit her once all my contacts searching for Petra check in. It may be that she knows something, or has a resource I can tap. She may not appear to have her eye on the throne anymore, but she’s still one of the most connected women in the city.”
“Understood. Just keep your interest separate from the empress’s. We can’t have anyone connecting this.”
“Chimellia. I’ve been doing this for a long time, too. What about the empress?”
“She’s safe for now, though I’m growing more and more displeased with that thing in her head. I’m beginning to believe it exerts more control than it should.”
“Supplanting you?” Shadow asked in a carefully measured tone, though something in his voice suggested that he didn’t think Tenna was a problem that could be easily dismissed.
“Not supplanting, just interfering. I might have to do something about that.”
“Like what?” Shadow asked.
Chimellia wondered at the question. Shadow had never before shown great interest in Tenna—though she’d never expressed so much ire in regard to the AI before.
“Leave that to me. You just find Petra. First.”
“Of course, you have nothing to worry about.”
Instead of uttering one of the less-than-kind responses that came to mind, Chimellia cut the connection and leant against the console. Putting Petra from her mind, she instead considered her options for dealing with Tenna. She knew that there was really only one way to handle the AI, and that involved staying the course.
Don’t worry, Diana. I’ll keep you safe, even if you don’t understand what that entails.
FURTHER INVESTIGATION
STELLAR DATE: 10.08.8948 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Kapalicarsi Station
REGION: Alexandria, Bosporus System, Scipio Empire
Ryse exited the dockcar and stepped onto the private concourse that led to his shuttle. An urge rose up in him to run down the deck and dive through the airlock, and he gave a soft, self-mocking laugh, forcing each of his steps to be slow and stately.
Just a few more minutes and you’ll be free of this viper’s nest.
After the statement the empress had forced him to make, he’d been pulled into other matters and hadn’t managed to leave Alexandria before the events surrounding Petra’s disappearance. As such, he’d still been at the palace when she shot up the dock on Delorum and fled to the planet’s surface.
That dustup had started a chain reaction of delays that had culminated in the prelate answering a number of pointed questions from General Corpus, the head of Diana’s guard. To be under suspicion for involvement in Petra’s mess had been mildly insulting, but he’d borne it with as much grace as possible.
And now, nearly a day later, he was finally gone from Alexandria and about to be on his way out of the Bosporus System.
“Prelate Ryse!” a voice called out from behind him.
Core help me….
He turned to see the last person he would have expected.
“Admiral Malachi?”
The Transcend admiral was flanked by two of his officers as he strode across the concourse. “I’m surprised you’re leaving, Prelate, what with things in such turmoil.”
Ryse felt a moment of concern for his personal safety, and confirmed that his own guards were nearby. He was satisfied to see that they outnumbered the admiral’s two companions.
“Admiral, I really must be going. I have a shuttle to catch.”
The other man’s expression hardened. “Prelate, it’s your own shuttle. It can wait a minute.”
“Very well, what did you want to discuss that required chasing me down in person?”
“Well….” The admiral paused as he reached Ryse, and drew himself up. “I was to be departing for Spica in a few days, but that has been put on hold now, what with Petra’s disappearance.”
“I suppose that’s understandable,” the prelate said equably. “I still don’t know why that information necessitated this interruption. You could have sent me a message.”
“Because the other half of the message,” Admiral Malachi’s voice lowered, “would be the part when I look into your eyes and ask you if you had anything to do with the attack on our ambassador.”
“Me?” Ryse didn’t have to feign indignation. “Why would you even suggest such a thing? I harbor Ambassador Petra no ill will and hope that she is innocent of any wrongdoing and found unharmed.”
The admiral shook his head. “It’s almost as though you’ve rehearsed those words, Prelate.”
“Truth rolls off the tongue easily,” he countered.
“Then you must realize that after your attempts to pull out of supporting the war, followed by the ambassador’s disappearance, you running off seems very suspicious.”
Ryse glared at the Transcend’s admiral, attempting to intimidate the man, though he was the taller and thicker of the two. “Sir, I strongly resent that implication. My issues with the offense against the Hegemony had nothing to do with the Transcend, be that its military or ambassador. They were internal political matters that I resolved with the empress.”
“Matters like your fear of Prelates Bella and Fiona?” Malachi pressed. “I know that the pressure from their camps didn’t decrease, the empress just made you grow a spine…but maybe you figured that abducting Petra could change things.”
“Are you insin—”
“I’m not insinuating anything, Prelate,” the admiral interrupted. “I’m a man of action. I’m asking you straight-up if you understand what this looks like to me.”
R
yse felt his shoulders slump a hair, knowing there was no way to cow the admiral. “I know what it looks like. But I fear I’ll be in dire straits myself if I stay in the Bosporus System.”
“Oh?” Malachi cocked an eyebrow. “Would the other prelates be so bold?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Ryse muttered.
“Well,” the admiral said after a moment. “I know you were hoping to use the jump gates to get back to Spica, but until we learn where the ambassador is, all the gates are closed.”
“Admiral! You can’t be serious!”
“I am, but don’t worry. I understand your fear of retribution from the other prelates. I’ll have a ship escort you to Spica.”
Ryse knew that meant one of the Transcend’s stasis shield ships. Such a vessel could effectively blockade a planet. Returning home would be exchanging a threat for a prison. Even so, the prelate was not about to let a foreigner dictate terms to him.
He gave a brief nod before turning away and calling over his shoulder, “You do what you must, Admiral.”
“Don’t worry,” the other man said in a quiet voice that sent chills up Ryse’s spine. “I will.”
DECISIONS
STELLAR DATE: 10.08.8948 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Hand safehouse
REGION: Alexandria, Bosporus System, Scipio Empire
Petra paced across the safehouse’s mainspace for what she estimated to be the thousandth time as she waited for Mains to return.
“Stars, I hate being cut off like this,” she muttered.
“You know how it is in this job.” Danielle shrugged as she reviewed the data extracted from the guard captain’s mods. “Waiting with a side of waiting.”
Petra had been over the data as well, and likely would examine it again. However, at the moment, she needed to clear her head as much as possible given the circumstances—which was more than a little difficult, considering that so far as they could tell, the Impera Protego had been acting under orders…orders sanctioned by the empress herself.