Spaceside

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Spaceside Page 18

by Michael Mammay


  “And?”

  “And we’re cooperating with Omicron in every way possible. That includes you, Carl. As to the file, I’ll take care of that.”

  “Thank you, Javier.” She powered the screen down. “You see, we’re not really all that greedy, Carl. We’re more than willing to cut in another company when it makes sense.”

  I stood there, stunned. What a dumbass I’d been. I’d had my suspicions about Javier and I knew he’d been in contact with Omicron, but I hadn’t realized the scope. I wondered at what point he’d started colluding with them, and if it was before or after Gylika died. I couldn’t think about that now. I had to focus. But I couldn’t let it go. “How long have you been working together?”

  “Long enough,” she said. “That reminds me. I should thank you for finding our leak.”

  It hit me like a punch in the gut. Gylika. If I hadn’t met with him, he’d still be alive. And the worst part was that he wasn’t even a leak. The first time I met him, he didn’t know anything. I’d set him into motion. “I need to sit.”

  She gestured to a cushioned chair. “We think our best option is to go to their new planet and take the information physically.”

  “You’re planning a combat mission,” I said. My eyes had to be wide. My heart raced, and I couldn’t control it, though more from the implications about Gylika than the Cappans.

  “Combat is an ugly word. They’re not humans. There’s no law against killing them, as you surely know. It’s more like . . . hunting. You’ll have the best equipment and the best team money can buy.”

  I shook my head. “That’s sick.”

  “I find that a bit disingenuous coming from you.”

  “Fuck you. It’s not even close to the same thing.”

  “I suppose if I were in your position, I’d say that too.” She kept her face neutral, not letting smugness touch it, despite the words. It didn’t keep me from wanting to smack her. There wasn’t any visible security, and I have to admit that for a second I considered it.

  “You’re not going to goad me into it,” I said.

  “I’m not planning on it. You’re going to go, you’re going to get me that technology back, and that’s that.”

  I stared at her, unable to come up with adequate words. The arrogance of this lady blew me away. But going along might be my best chance to still negotiate something, which is what the Cappans had asked me to do. Assuming there were any Cappans left alive once the Omicron mercenaries got done. “I’ll consider it.”

  “Well your other option is that we prosecute you for breaking into our system.”

  I flinched but didn’t speak.

  “What, you didn’t think we knew about that? Did you not expect that we’d be paying closer attention after a massive security incident? I’m disappointed.”

  “I don’t care. Prosecute me.”

  “I figured you might say that. I doubt you’ll say the same about your accomplice, Ms. Ganos.”

  “Who?”

  “Please. We have facial recognition in our security system.”

  “You’re going to prosecute her?”

  “Oh, no. While my legal people think she’d get six to ten years, she’s much too valuable to waste in a cell. At least not a jail cell. No, we’ll pick her up and use what we have on her to sell her to the highest bidder. She’ll spend the rest of her probably short life working for us, or someone like us, until she’s used up. Then we’ll turn her in. She won’t serve much time, though. She’ll turn up dead in her cell. Suicide, probably. Tragic.”

  “You asshole.” It was all I could come up with at the moment. I hoped that Ganos had made it off the planet, but if they went the legal route, that wouldn’t help her for very long.

  “Indeed. I’ll take that as a yes?”

  I looked away from her.

  “I’m going to need to hear it,” she said. “I need a yes.”

  “Fine. Yes.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  While I didn’t know exactly what they expected from me, one thing became readily apparent: They didn’t trust me. They confiscated my electronics and bundled me off from the Omicron building via a back exit into a private vehicle. A driver and two guards whisked me away from the arching skyscrapers of the center city to the outskirts, an industrial area with old three- and four-story buildings, all rectangles and straight lines. We stopped outside one without any signs, and they led me up to a set of double doors. The high-tech identification scanner clashed with the worn façade of the building, which had to be at least seventy-five years old.

  I stepped through the door and bright light blinded me for a moment until my eyes adjusted. The cement floor in the large room, painted gray in that way of most military facilities, looked clean enough to eat off of and reflected the glare from the lights that hung from the high ceiling. A bank of monitors lined the near wall, all dark save one, which showed the news. I recognized the hardware as military. It reminded me of any number of rooms where I’d observed troops conducting tech training in the past.

  A few men and women bustled about, intent on various tasks, and though they weren’t in uniform, they carried themselves like soldiers. Their posture, the way they walked, everything about them screamed military. Or ex-military, more likely, though not too far removed in most cases, given the relatively young ages.

  “Colonel Butler, welcome to the east campus.” A tall man of about thirty-five with a square jaw, almost-short-enough-to-be-military hair, and a lanky build walked across the room to greet me and the two goons who’d escorted me. “I have to say, sir, it’s an honor to be working with you.” He turned to one of my captors. “I’ve got him from here. Thanks.”

  I sized him up. Whoever he was, he had me at a disadvantage, as clearly he’d been briefed about me joining the team and I had no clue about him. Ex-military, of course. Probably Special Ops, if I had to guess. I pegged him as someone who got out of the service as a captain after serving a couple tours. The age would work for that, anyway. I took the easy way out and didn’t speak, which forced him to carry the conversation or stand there awkwardly.

  “I’m Eric Tanaka.” He held out a hand and I took it. “I’m the team lead for the mission.”

  “Good to know.” I was being an asshole, but the crap that had gone down with Haverty entitled me to it. From the little I’d gleaned, we’d be going off planet. I’d have plenty of time to make it up to Tanaka, if I needed to. I thought about escalating it by challenging him, asking him to prove his bona fides in the classic military alpha-type way, but I decided a softer approach might get me further. “What is this place?”

  “The east campus? On paper it’s a testing facility. High-tech stuff, weapons. Our team puts Omicron’s ideas in the hands of ex-soldiers and gives the developers feedback. But it’s also outfitted for training. I do a lot of work here, preparing the team for different missions. We’ve got a full simulator suite in the back and a full set of firing ranges. It’s a great environment for training. I’ll show you around in a bit.”

  He said missions, which I took to mean that he led a standing force. I wondered what the government would think of a corporation having their own army. They probably knew and just as probably didn’t care. “How big is the team?”

  “It varies with the need. For this mission? About two hundred.”

  The size surprised me, but I didn’t let it show. I’d expected a small team, an infiltration scenario. This was more of an assault force, though maybe not big enough if we ran into serious resistance. “Seems like an odd size.”

  “We can discuss that later. Our intel is lacking on the enemy disposition, so for the time being I decided not to risk a small team. If we need anything bigger, we can use our space-based assets. Maybe you can help fill in some of the intel gaps.”

  “Maybe.” Space-based assets. That was a euphemism for high-yield weapons. “How many of the two hundred fight?”

  “Most,” he said. “About a hundred and sixty will hit the gro
und. The rest will crew the ship we take, as well as the smaller assault craft.”

  I nodded slightly to show approval, though I had no real basis to judge without more information. It felt like he wanted my concurrence, so I gave it. Somewhere in the past minute I’d decided to put the asshole thing to rest and play nice for a bit, see where that got me. I hadn’t resigned myself to going on the mission. Sasha and Riku were still out there, they’d know I was missing, and they’d shown themselves to be rather capable. I was behind in the game, but I still had moves. “So tell me—you’re the team leader. What’s my role in this thing?”

  He rubbed his hands together, glanced away. “Well, sir . . . your official title is advisor, but I’m not arrogant enough to tell you what that means. Somebody thinks you can help. I’m sure they’re right, and I’m glad to have you. But as far as what you do? I thought I’d leave that up to you. I’m sure you’ll know best where you can add value.”

  I held back a chuckle. That was military speak for “they stuck me with you, and I have no fucking idea.” I have to admit, he communicated it kindly. “Sure. Let’s play it by ear. Once I see what we’re doing and what we’re up against, I’ll see where I fit. Don’t worry, Tanaka. I won’t try to take over your show.” I said we on purpose. It seemed best to let him think I was on board. For now.

  “Roger, sir. We’ll kit you out for ground operations, just in case. If you decide to stay spaceside, that’s fine too, but we want to be prepared. Besides, you’re going to love the gear.”

  Tanaka spent the rest of the afternoon showing me around the facility, which spanned almost half a city block, as far as I could figure. It almost seemed as if he wanted to impress me. I played along—and honestly, I was impressed. They had a lot going on, and some things I’d never seen. At any other time, I would have loved the tour and enjoyed playing with some of the tech on display. But my role as a forced guest tempered any excitement I might have felt.

  They never left Tanaka and me alone, as two or three people at a time rotated through our little company, providing some piece of information or another about various aspects of the base. I did my best to memorize the layout, but I’ve never been particularly good with spatial awareness inside a building, especially without windows. I did note that the building had exactly six doors that led outside, three in the front plus two and a loading bay in the back. Most of the doors, both internal and external, had scan pads. Nobody had access cards, which indicated a biometric security system.

  At some point a big man with jet-black hair and a brownish complexion joined us and stayed on as part of our group. His easy posture and wary gaze marked him as some sort of security, but I didn’t know if he was Tanaka’s bodyguard or my jailer. The man didn’t speak, and I didn’t ask, as the distinction didn’t matter much.

  We ate a late dinner in a well-appointed dining hall. It seated about a hundred and fifty at long, rectangular tables, though half the seats were unfilled and our table remained empty save for me, Tanaka, and the big corporal. They served a military menu, filling and probably nutritious, but nothing special. At least a few people recognized me, since I got the kinds of looks I’d grown accustomed to in public, but nobody approached. More important, I didn’t recognize any of them. It was a long shot, but with enough ex-soldiers in one place, there was always a chance that I’d served with one. That could have proved useful.

  After we finished, my two escorts took me to my room, a three meter by three meter square, with one corner cut out for a tiny bathroom, complete with shower, toilet, and sink. A small desk, a chair, a bed, and a wall locker made up the only other features of the room. “Sorry about the sparse accommodations,” said Tanaka. “We’ll only be here a couple of days.”

  “I’ve been in worse,” I said. My room looked a bit like a cell, but then so did a lot of military rooms. I didn’t ask him about restrictions because I didn’t want him to tell me to stay put. That way when I tried to get out, I could always tell him that I didn’t know I wasn’t allowed to leave. He’d know it for a lie, of course, but we could at least both pretend and save face. That assumed I’d be able to open the door after they left.

  “If you need anything, Corporal Matua here is your man.” Tanaka indicated the soldier who had been with us all day, and the big man smiled.

  After they departed, I gave it maybe thirty minutes before I tested the door. I couldn’t wait any longer, alone with nothing but my thoughts. Not a great place for me to be on a good day, let alone after everything I’d absorbed recently. Surely they didn’t expect me to sit here in an empty room with nothing to occupy myself. To my surprise, when I placed my hand against the pad by the door, it whooshed open.

  I poked my head into the hall, expecting to find Matua or another guard waiting, but it was empty. Barely wide enough for two people to pass without touching, the passage had white walls, a gray floor, and doors at regular intervals along both sides. I expected that they led to more lodging, though I didn’t know how much of the force stayed on site and how much commuted. They might also be cells, if this was a detention area. It seemed unlikely. The walls met the floor in metal tracks, which probably meant they could reconfigure the building for other purposes, depending on the mission.

  I randomly chose to go left and wandered down the hall that direction. I’d marked some key points in my mind during my earlier tour, and once I found them I could hopefully orient myself in the confusing maze of sameness. I pressed my palm against the pad next to the door of what looked to be a supply closet and then tried one that looked like some sort of workshop. Neither door opened. Two soldiers passed me in the hall, chatting with each other about a beta-ball match they’d apparently just watched. They both acknowledged me with a nod and kept walking. That meant one of two things: I was allowed to be out and about, or not everybody knew my status. Either worked for me. I made my way through a large, open training area that I recognized from my tour. Four soldiers played two-on-two soccer using nets that anchored to the floor in preset tracks. They all wore some sort of high-tech equipment that allowed them to jump and run at superhuman speeds, which led to an impossibly acrobatic goal that drew a whoop from all four players.

  I followed a passage that led to the big room that I’d entered through when I first arrived. Two soldiers walked toward me, probably coming from outside.

  “Hey, is there somewhere in this place to get a drink?” I asked.

  They stopped a few paces from me. “No, sir.” The tall woman smiled, as if I’d asked a silly question. “Most of us bring it in.”

  “I didn’t get a chance. I think I’m going to go out and find something.”

  “Around here, sir?” asked a man, who stood a couple centimeters shorter than his companion. “There’s not a bar for at least five klicks in this part of town.”

  “I can use the exercise. And I really need that drink.” I put on as friendly a face as I could. Nothing to see here. Just an old soldier who needs his booze. I didn’t really need the drink, but it made a convenient excuse. And, of course, I wouldn’t turn one down. “I’m sure I can get a car to bring me back.”

  If they cared, they didn’t let it show, and we all resumed walking in our respective directions. I had no idea if I could get outside, but Omicron had gone to the trouble of keeping me alive, so they probably weren’t going to shoot me for testing my limits. I thought about how I could possibly get to a communication device and contact somebody, let them know where I was. I’d lost the contact information I had for Sasha and Riku when they’d confiscated my device, but I felt like they’d be looking for me, so I believed if I got anything out into the world, they’d find me. If not, I still had the message I’d programmed to Plazz that would go out in about two days. Hopefully, I’d still be around for that.

  I reached the outside door and put my hand against the pad. Nothing. It didn’t surprise me. I called to the two soldiers I’d passed, who hadn’t quite cleared the room. “Hey, I just got here and they don’t have me in
the system yet. Do you mind?”

  They came partway back across the room so we wouldn’t have to shout, whispering to each other along the way, doubtless deciding what they’d do. The woman spoke. “Sir, we’re not allowed to key somebody through a door they don’t have access to. They’re pretty strict about that here.”

  “I’m sure I’ll have access as soon as they get caught up. I just want to get a drink.” I could hear the desperation creeping into my voice, which meant she could, too. I was screwed.

  “Sorry, sir.”

  “No problem,” I said. “I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble.”

  I made my way around to all the other external doors on the off chance that one of them would open for me, but had no success. I found another group of three soldiers and tried my sob story on them, but ended with the same result as the first attempt. They appeared genuinely sorry, but they couldn’t help me. As I headed back to my room, I worried for a moment that I wouldn’t be able to get back in, but I turned the corner to find Corporal Matua waiting for me outside the door. He held a bottle of whiskey in one hand, a glass and a small bucket of ice in the other.

  I laughed. “I guess you guys were watching me after all.”

  He shrugged. “I’m your security. It’s my job to pay attention.”

  “Are you security as in protecting me, or security as in making sure I don’t escape?”

  He gave me a big smile that lit his whole face. “It’s my job to make sure nothing happens to you.”

  He hadn’t answered the question, but at the same time, he pretty much had. I didn’t push it. It was the least I could do since he hadn’t made a big deal of the fact that I’d tried to escape. Plus he had a bottle. I took it gratefully. It wasn’t Ferra Three whiskey by any stretch, but it wasn’t swill, either. He left, and I went inside and poured myself three fingers.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  After a shitty night’s sleep made somewhat better by breakfast and coffee with Matua, we went to the armory to get my equipment. Tanaka didn’t lie about me loving the gear. It took four hours for two techs to fit me for body armor and a helmet, but once they did, I almost wanted to dance. The full-body suit was like being encased in a robot shell, with every action triggered by my natural movements, except enhanced. They started me out slow, teaching me to walk and how to use my eyes to trigger all the helmet functions, calibrating them to my exact measurements. After about five minutes I got tired of their teaching pace and did a standing front flip, landing on my high-tech boots, which thudded on the cement floor. I let out a whoop, and Matua laughed from his spot leaning against the wall.

 

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