by Rob Howell
“Did they alter it?”
“Not that I can tell. It looks like whoever gave it to you wanted you to find that server.”
“That’s what I was afraid of, Heidi.”
She finished her donut. “There’s another thing. Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“It’s almost like that directory is haunted. I found something like a ghost.”
“What?”
“It looks like someone had previously used the drive Tlanit made available to you and traces of old data remained after it was erased. But whoever set this up knows what they’re doing, and they wouldn’t use a mediocre deletion system.”
“Show me.”
“There are some random bytes hidden here and there on the drive. We scooped them up, but they don’t say much.”
“Line them up.”
She did so. “The characters are a random sequence consisting of sixteen different alphabets and a dozen numeric symbol sets.”
“Which alphabets?”
“Human ones? Roman, Cyrillic, and Devanagari.”
“Show me the others, by race. And the number sets.”
She tapped her keyboard. “Here you go.”
I looked at them. “That sneaky bastard.”
“What?”
“Were the characters in any special order on the drive?”
“I suppose they were, if you’re looking at normal track order.”
“Arrange them like that and send them to my sweeper.”
“Okay.”
I smiled when they popped up on my screen.
“You know what these ghosts are, don’t you?”
“I think so.”
“How?”
I pondered that for a moment. “Heidi, you’ve done great work, but I can’t tell you.” I held up a hand. “Seriously, I’m really impressed, but…”
“Opsec?”
“Yeah. And I’m not even sure I need to know.” I paused. “Don’t put this in your report.”
“I’ve already noted the ghost characters.”
“That’s fine. But don’t let anyone know I have a theory unless you don’t want me to live to bring you donuts again.”
She blinked. “Yes, sir.”
“Like I said, you did good. Real good.” I tapped my sweeper. “And what do you get for doing something well?”
“More effing work!” She chuckled.
“Yep.” I dumped the data I had pulled from the van in February into her system. “I’ve been looking at this. I can only find Human markers, but they had a Zuul with them.”
“I’ll see what I can find.”
“I’ll be around, checking in.” I smiled. “With donuts.”
She giggled and turned back to her monitor.
I returned to the boss’s office. When I opened the door, Bullitt was snapping at Moneypenny. He turned like a shoulder-mounted MAC and demanded, “What do you want?”
“Maybe for you to treat the two best employees you have with a little respect.” I smiled at Moneypenny, who grinned back. “Or two of the best three. Heidi knows what she’s doing.”
He shut his mouth and glanced at both of us. “Yeah, she does. Damned eager young puppy.”
Moneypenny, still smiling, released the door lock, and we went into Bullitt’s office.
As we sat down, I added, “Yeah, she’s young and eager, but she’s good. I even gave her the data I got from the van.”
“You were impressed. That data’s been your pet.”
“I was.” I grinned. “And it was nice to be treated with some respect.”
He sighed. “Sorry. HR is still after me about you and that damned power spike. They told some of our investors, and now they’re snapping at my heels. And this damn Binnig thing is turning into a huge mess.”
“Investors? I thought you owned this operation outright.”
He waved off the question and grabbed some pecans. He chomped them savagely. Finally, he asked, “Did Heidi find anything in the video?”
“Not much, but she did find Zuparti anti-malware markers. And maybe Veetanho.”
“The Zuparti again,” he mused.
“See if you can find out anything about what Kukuluki’s doing right now. And see if the Stalkers in the Stars are available.”
He cocked his head for a moment. “Right. Maybe he hired the Zuul to take out the Binnig convoy.”
“Yeah…”
“You don’t think so?” He cocked his head toward me.
“I think it’s a possibility. But whoever orchestrated the Binnig attack knew an awful lot about Humans. The Zuul are too insular.”
“They could have great intel.”
“Who is more likely to penetrate Binnig, the Zuul or Kukuluki?”
“Kukuluki.”
“Exactly. He might have hired the Stalkers for the dirty stuff, but Kukuluki is involved somehow.”
“I bet you’re right.” He popped a couple of pecans into his mouth while he thought. “What now?”
“I think I need to get Edmonds to send me to Maquon.”
“Oh?”
“There’s nothing about the massacre on the servers here. But maybe there’s something there.”
“That’s a good point. What are you going to do while you’re waiting for an excuse?”
“I need to go to the Lyon’s Den.”
He contemplated that. “You think the Lyon knows anything useful?”
“He might. It’s worth a shot. Besides, you’re the one who tells me I need to relax every once in a while.”
He snorted. “Fine. And after that?”
I grimaced. “I think there’s a mole in the Foresters. I suppose I need to find it since I think Tlanit wants me to.”
“Damn. Better to know than not.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Heidi can show you our library of Maquonese data protocols and languages. Once you’ve got those, work with her for a couple of days. See if you can find the mole, and get what you can at the Lyon’s Den.” His face twisted.
“What?”
He shook his head. “Never mind. Take what you find to the Lyon’s Den. Give the Lyon the hints of Zuul comm protocols, too. He has his own ELINT connections, and the Zuul bother me.”
“That’s a good idea.”
He looked at me suspiciously. “You’re agreeing? With no arguments?”
“Maybe I’m not feeling well.”
He snorted. “Go do something that doesn’t piss off HR.”
“Yes, sir! Anything you say, sir!” I snapped to attention and saluted.
“Stop giving me that bullshit and get the fuck outta here!”
I got the fuck outta there.
* * * * *
Chapter 17 – Rick Blaine
The Lyon’s Den
Houston, Texas
The Lyon noticed me immediately. “Come to the back.”
I followed him to his office, pulled out my sweeper, and activated the security programs.
He snorted. I didn’t blame him. His security rivaled any I had ever seen.
“Can’t be too careful,” I muttered.
The Lyon cocked his head. “You’re awfully tetchy.”
“This Foresters’ thing has me worried. And, Bullitt almost fired me.”
“What?” He chuckled. “He’s not known for leaving loose ends.”
“Yeah, that’s why I ran until his temper cooled.”
“I told you the Foresters are my business.”
“That’s fine. They’re mine, too. And Bullitt’s.”
“Oh?” He cocked his head.
“Binnig hired us.”
“Okay.” He sighed. “How the hell did they hit Binnig?”
“They got Binnig’s security key and crashed their defense network.”
“I heard that, but I find it hard to believe.”
“I’m starting to wonder about their tech security.”
“Binnig’s? They’ve got the best damn security I’ve ever seen.”
<
br /> “We’ve had a damn good tech working for nearly two months to find out what happened with the convoy. She’s made so little progress I’m surprised she hasn’t sacrificed someone to Baal. I’m down to two thoughts. One, it was an inside job.”
“That’s gotta be it.”
“I’m not so sure. Binnig has to be tearing the company apart bit by bit to find that person. As far as I know, they haven’t found anyone.”
“They wouldn’t tell us.”
“No, but someone would’ve had a car wreck or a heart attack or committed suicide or something. People have been let go before, but I can’t imagine they’d just fire someone who killed a bunch of their people. They’re a business, not a merc unit, but still…”
“Yeah, but they probably have more muckety-mucks who drove CASPers at some point than any other company. You’re right.”
“Exactly. I’ve been watching, and I haven’t heard about anything along those lines.”
“And the second thing?”
“What if their tech was compromised? We all know it’s the best around. Where did they get it? What if the issue was in the code or the hardware all along?”
“That’s insane.”
“True. But it fits what we know. Eliminate the impossible—”
“Yeah, yeah. I read the Sherlock Holmes stuff, too. We’re not at that point yet.”
“Not yet, but I am questioning my original assumptions.” I pulled out a data chip. “I’ve also been working on the data retrieved from the van used in the attack here.”
“What’d you find?”
“Nothing too surprising, I suppose. Their security was almost exclusively Human-designed. The comm protocols were also Human…except…”
“You look like Cartwright with a case of Coke.”
I smiled. “We think we might have found a Zuul comm protocol.” I handed him the chip. “Bullitt told me to give this to you. It’s the detailed ELINT from the attack.”
“Why is he giving me this?” Suspicion shone in his eyes. “He’s not terribly fond of me.”
“No, he’s not. But he hasn’t completely forgotten what it means to be a merc.” I paused.
“What?”
“And he’s been out of sorts lately. Something’s bothering him.”
“About the Binnig attack?”
“Not entirely. It’s a job, and he likes getting paid.”
“He’s richer than Croesus,” snorted the Lyon.
“Yeah, but cash is just markers in a game for him, and he loves playing the game.”
“True that. And this includes the Zuul comm protocol?”
“Yes. The doggies are too damn secretive for our liking.”
“They’re too secretive for you? Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?”
“Damn right.” I hesitated.
“What?”
“Secrets are a wonderful thing. But…”
“Spit it out, you goddamned spook.”
“He gave me something else. One of his treasures.”
“One of his legendary treasures?”
“Yeah. I need to trade, and I’m willing to bargain.”
“With one of his treasures? What the fuck do you want?”
I pulled up a list of every person who worked at West Rocks Training Center over the last three years. “I need to know about all of these people.”
The Lyon shook his head. “You know I don’t talk about troopers.”
“I do. But I think one of them is a mole.” I showed him the metadata tag report. “That server has been in existence for two and a half years. If the metadata is right, the leak had to be arranged within that time frame.”
His lips tightened. “Damn. That would explain some things.”
“I know your rules, and I respect them, but here’s what I need. I trust you to filter through the data. I don’t need to know stuff about all these people, because I bet all but a few are damn good troopers. However, I need help finding the mole.”
“You looked through their personnel records, I presume?”
“Yeah. And their bank accounts. Civvie records. Nothing obvious jumped out. That’s why I’m asking you. You have access to all the scuttlebutt, all the things that don’t get into official records.”
“Most of it, I suppose.”
“Exactly.”
He pondered my request. “And if I give you data on someone who turns out to be innocent?”
“I won’t forward anything you give me. Not to the firm. Not to anyone. If there’s a need, I’ll ask you, but hopefully, there won’t be a need.”
He rubbed his forehead. “You know what you’re asking.”
I said nothing.
“But you wouldn’t have asked if you didn’t think it meant the lives of other troopers.”
The Lyon continued convincing himself. “And that metadata report sure makes it seem probable there’s a mole.”
Saying nothing still seemed to be my best option.
“Yeah, I’ll do it,” he finally muttered.
“Good.” I pulled out the data chip with a smile. “And there’s this. If you think I’ve not lived up to my end of the bargain, you can let Bullitt know I gave you this.”
He snorted. “What’s the treasure?”
“My notes.”
“He won’t kill you for that.”
“And a copy of a bunch of Zuul personnel records. They’re a few years out of date, but still interesting.”
The Lyon looked at me for a long time. “This is crazy.”
“Maybe. I’d like to be alive after all of this, but…”
“Yeah. I get that.”
“Now it’s time for a Ragnar’s or eight.”
He nodded, and we went to the bar. I spent a pleasant evening drinking my share. The Lyon made me stay in one of his spare rooms.
At 0827 the next morning my sweeper buzzed and a message appeared on my pinplant:
Colonel Edmonds requests you follow up with the software installation on Maquon. He wants you there ASAP.
Allnut waited for me in the African Queen’s shuttle bay. “I was told to get you to Maquon yesterday.”
“Yeah.”
On the trip to the stargate, I reviewed every note I had, but found nothing more than I already knew. Once in hyperspace, I exercised, ate, and slept. I also cleaned my GP-90 three times and ran every diagnostic and malware check on my sweeper every day.
And I worried.
One hundred and seventy hours was a long time to worry.
* * * * *
Part IV
A Man Sentenced to Life Can
Always Spare a Few Moments
—We’re No Angels
Chapter 18 – Kal’shin Tahnerif
Forward Base Maquon
Jeriasker, Maquon
Kal’shin Tahnerif crawled up to the ridge where Akuwin looked out over the Foresters’ base on Maquon.
“Good, you finally made it,” muttered the rei’shin.
“I hate having to deal with Zuparti, especially for something like this. They kept refusing to launch our shuttle, not to mention all that moving from ship to ship.”
“Ah, yes. Our client. I wonder if our success is as important to him as it is to us.”
The kal’shin bared his fangs. “Indeed. Have you found the prey he hunts for yet?”
“No.” Akuwin’s ears flicked. “But…”
“But what?”
“Something about the way Kukuluki talks to us bothers me.”
“In what way?”
“I don’t know, sir. He said something like ‘you’re all the same’ in one conversation.”
“What was the conversation about?”
“Fulfilling the contract. I was pressing him about shuttle schedules.”
“Was he referring to me?”
“It didn’t seem like it. It seemed like he was talking about all Zuul.”
“He doesn’t understand our honor.”
“No, he doesn’t.”
Tahnerif thought for a long moment. “I’ll remember this, Rei’shin. You have perhaps scented a long ignored trail.”
“Perhaps.” Akuwin turned and stared at her commander. “Are we sure we want to work with this client? We’re only in the observation portion of the contract. We can refuse to attack when the time comes.”
“No, we’re not sure.” Tahnerif grimaced. “But Kukuluki sent me a message just before I came down. He wishes us to attack as soon as is convenient, so I have to make a decision now.”
“What’ll your decision be?”
Tahnerif held his paw out for the binoculars. “Tell me what we’ve got.”
“As you command. I assume you’ve seen the map we made when we first arrived? The one that clarified a number of interesting questions we had based on the information the Zuparti gave us?”
“Yes.”
“Good. The Foresters laid out their base well. We’d’ve done much the same. They have a perimeter road with routes leading out from the gaps that you can see. Each gate has a reinforced guard post manned by two Human fire teams, one at the gate and the other in support.”
“They’re still using four-man fire teams?”
“Yes.”
“With armor?”
“Two of each fire team wear powered armor. The other two only have light weapons.”
“So. A full squad, half in armor, at each gate.”
“Yes.” Akuwin pointed at a building. “We think they have a reaction unit in there. We aren’t positive, but every time the guards change at the gates, a fully-armored squad goes into that building and one leaves it to go back to their barracks.”
“A full squad on three gates. A full squad in reserve. If I’m counting right, that’s what they call a platoon.”
“Yes.” Akuwin grimaced. “The same as we faced on Cimaron 283133-6A.”
“You’re probably right. We have to plan for it, even if you’re not. I’d guess they have four of these security platoons. That’s what we’d do, to make sure the troops got proper rest and had time for weapons maintenance.”
“Agreed, Kal’shin.”
“How many other troops do they have here?”
Akuwin flicked her paw from side to side. “It varies, and it’s hard to keep track. Every time a shuttle arrives, some come down and some leave. Once they’re in their barracks, they have little need to walk around. We know they have food preparation facilities in each, and they probably have entertainment and exercise equipment in them as well.”