Against That Time

by Edward McKeown

  “No.”

  “That is good, it means likely the summons is no more than business or she would not have left you.” Without diverting my attention from her, I raise a hand to interrupt Wrik, who immediately sets down his coffee, concern clouding his face as I relate the contact.

  “Where is she?” he demands.

  “On her way to see Hartain. Do not be concerned, I judge this to be merely a meeting.”

  “I’d be happier if you were with her.”

  “On what pretext?” I respond. “Honestly Wrik while I can carry on two conversations simultaneously, I cannot be two places at once. You should have bought a second android.”

  He laughs raggedly. “Hey I didn’t buy you, you were salvage.”

  “Too true. Anyway, finish your meal and dress. We have our work to do. I will monitor Jaelle.”

  He follows my suggestion while I divert him with inconsequential matters. Meanwhile I discuss the situation with Jaelle. “I believe that letting it slip that Wrik is a Confed Intelligence Operative is worthwhile. It is doubtless suspected already by the authorities here so he will eventually learn of those suspicions.”

  “Agreed,” Jaelle sends as she snakes through alleys of the floating city. “It will demonstrate my usefulness. But I plan to embellish it with some references to Wrik’s looking forTelberd’s sister, Diralia Shon. I can spread some credits around to support my telling Hartain that Wrik paid to have my ship available in case he needs to move about outside the city without being followed.

  “Risky, but sensible,” I concur. “I’m going to bring Dusko on line with us.”

  “He will doubtless be thrilled,” Jaelle says. The almost metallic taste of the Due-Denlenn’s mind flows into our link. Quickly I fill him in on developments.

  Jaelle reaches Hartain’s storefront. She passes in through the outer layer of security to be greeted, if a grunt and an unwinking stare are greeting, by the female Dua-Denlenn bodyguard who delivered the invitation earlier. I scan for a name in databanks to find only, Sheskaya, no last name given, as is common with her kind. Hartain must have brought her in recently, as there is so little on her locally. I tell none of this to Jaelle so she cannot make a slip. The bodyguard admits her to Hartain’s inner sanctum.

  “Good day, Minogue,” Hartain says.

  “Good day, Guildmaster.”

  “How did your evening with the young officer go?”

  “The officer is what you feared, an intelligence operative passing as a common line officer. He is here to investigate the disappearance of personnel in the UDEXCO joint-venture and what that venture was about.”

  Hartain gave her a suspicious look. “An intelligence officer and he reveals so much in one night in bed?”

  “Careful,” Dusko says in her mind.

  “While my skills might cause you to rethink that assessment, truth was the pillow talk was minimal. I told him that I didn’t believe he was merely a scoutship captain. I hinted at my own connections. He cultivated me as an intelligence source. The fact that he put 10,000 credits in my account shows that he is both serious and short of time. “

  “Ah, I knew it,” Hartain said, slapping his hands together, “but how to make use of it?”

  I feel Jaelle smile her most feral smile. “I took the initiative there. He is searching for a woman named Diralia Shon. Her brother appealed to Confed authorities with enough effect to get Fels sent here. It’s a good pretext. He has not mentioned the name to the TAM authorities for fear that if she is here she might disappear in a more permanent fashion. He thought, with my Guild connections, I might turn her up where the local authority has not. He suspects that if found, she can lead him to see—”

  “To see what?” Hartain’s red eyes glow with greed.

  Jaelle shrugs. “I’m good, but he is an intelligence officer. Human males seem to think exclusively with their sexual equipment, but this one has had training.”

  Hartain laughs. “Yes, they know no seasons for sex. It seems to be a constant distraction. How did they ever get to prominence in the Confederacy? Hard to top them for organizing to kill things though: Conchirri, Evolvers, the thing on Enshar, let’s hope they find something else to practice on before they get twitchy again.

  “So he knows you are Guild…” Hartain adds.

  “Now would be a good time to throw some credits in front of him,” Dusko whispers across the link.

  “He knows I am an independent, he suspects I am Guild. Relax, it plays to our advantage,” she soothes. Jaelle draws a 5,000-credit chit from her jacket and slides it across to the Morok who scoops it up with commendable speed.

  “More good faith money,” Jaelle adds. “He’s promised me ten times as much for my aid if he needs to get off Tir-a-Mar. Shon may not be on the floating city and he suspects that there are other installations. He might need to get out under fire, possibly with prisoners. So my job is to arrange for a ship and get them back here.”

  “Where we learn what the young officer has discovered,” Hartain interjects

  Jaelle nods. “One way or the other; likely he will cooperate when he sees the situation. He is intelligent and flexible, I judge.”

  “If not, he might find himself in for a long fall. We do not even have to cover our tracks – he will have done that for us.”

  “Jaelle,” I whisper in her mind. “Retract your claws before he notices.”

  She makes a conscious effort to relax, but I feel her rage at the casual plan to dispose of Wrik simmering below the surface. I share it in my cooler fashion. Hartain is now marked for elimination at my first opportunity. I neither tolerate nor forgive threats to my network.

  Jaelle makes to rise, but Hartain motions her back down.

  “I have disposed of some of the cargo that you brought. However I have run into a little problem with the shipment of drugs and weapons that represents the major profit.”

  “That being?” Jaelle says, her tone strictly neutral.

  Hartain waved a hand. “No need to prick your ears at me, Young One. There is nothing wrong with your goods. Indeed, profits off a single load are quite impressive so far. The problem is that the Witch of Cimer, one Olivia Croyzer, Chief of the TAMPD, is on a tear. She is locking up Guilders on any pretext because of the attempt on Fel’s life. Showy bit of nonsense, as if the Guild would ever do something so random and sloppy.

  “In any event, with the Witch knocking down so many of my people and with you proving so adept at handling Fels, I wondered if you would take another small job for me here while we are gathering a return cargo for you?”

  “Tell me more,” Jaelle returns.

  “As I said, I am short-handed, particularly in operatives who have the nerve and skills to handle an exchange. I need someone to oversee the transfer and payment of one of your cargo lots to some asteroid runners from the outer system. The man in charge is named Kesphan.”

  “What about Ms. Cold Eyes, in the corridor?”

  Hartain grimaces. “Sheskaya, like you, is unknown here, but I brought her in at fabulous expense as a bodyguard, in which case she has already proven quite useful, even killing one of Croyzer’s and making it look like an accident. I prefer that she stays both close to me and as invisible as possible.”

  “Ah, so I am expendable?”

  “Only by comparison, my dear girl, but I judge you tough, smart and apt with weapons. Not that I anticipate trouble. Sheskaya’s reputation does precede her, in a very real sense she will be with you in menacing spirit.”

  “Seems to be how everyone travels with me these days,” Jaelle sends in nervous amusement

  “Bargain for an increased cut,” Dusko throws in.

  “Jaelle,” I interrupt. “I am concerned that this could be very dangerous and I will not be able to provide you with a sufficient level of security to satisfy either Wrik or myself.”

 
; “If we are to find out what is going on here before some trap closes on us,” Jaelle sends while throwing out an outrageous percent for the Guildmaster to reject, “we need to access every source we can, especially Guild sources. You and Wrik cannot get this access, I have to do it.”

  I am displeased that I cannot fault her logic and I can only imagine what Wrik’s reaction will be.

  “Is this Kesphan a threat?” Jaelle asks in response to Hartain’s inadequate counteroffer.

  “No. He would not make an enemy of his main provider. He is not toothless, as you Nekoans would say, but he would only be tempted by someone weak. You are clearly not weak. Which is good, as I cannot provide you with any backup, at least, no one useful in a fight.”

  “I have a Confed All Outer Systems license for the laser I pack,” Jaelle says. “They won’t want to tangle with that much coherent light.”

  “Well said.”

  “And let’s make that 12.5%.”

  “You wound me, Child. A cake run such as this shouldn’t cost me anything. Ah, whatever became of courtesy? Let us say 5% for the inconvenience.”

  “Such a cake walk could doubtless be used for training your junior members I shouldn’t deprive you of the chance. Unless perhaps for 9%.”

  Hartain chuckled. “Let’s say 7.8% and you pick your weapon at the front.”

  As I predicted, Wrik’s reaction to Jaelle’s plan was angry rejection. Yet he had no more success in faulting her logic, or talking her out of her course of action then I did. So we were forced to accept it. Hartain had the cargo moved to a warehouse by robots and servers, with Jaelle riding herd on everything. The drop was scheduled for late in the evening shift.

  It is only with difficulty that I restrain Wrik from heading out to join Jaelle at the warehouse near the docks where he first landed. He has a dinner meeting with Mysol and Fenster and there is no chance to get out of it. Nor can I attend with him; there would be no reason for Estrella Lostly to be in such elevated company, so I remain at our hotel. However it allows me to concentrate my attention on Jaelle and to more thoroughly infiltrate the net at Tir-a-Mar at a higher level of saturation then I dared before as Jaelle makes her way to the appointed rendezvous.

  Jaelle stands next to two loaders filled with containers of arms and illicit materials, all of course real. There was no way to fake such things with the Guild. The warehouse is small and old, filled with stacks of metal shelving holding crates and boxes that stretch toward the track lights above. There is a section facing a rollup door and the street beyond. The warehouse is totally automated. I infiltrate the city systems and find a fire surveillance sensor that covers the inside, so I am able to see both through Jaelle’s eyes and the city system. The scanner is poor quality equipment compared to my own optics, but it is all I can use remotely. It does allow to me to pick up some heat signatures. Company is approaching the front door.

  “Be alert, Jaelle. Six are coming in by the small door next to the rollup.”

  “Thanks,” she loosens her laser in her holster.

  The door opens and three men step in quickly. They spot her, say nothing and scan the shadows and the aisles of the warehouse. A human female, a Morok and another human male enter. The last is Kesphan, from the information and holos that Hartain provided.

  “I don’t know you,” he calls.

  “Hartain sent me,” Jaelle says, then adds the Guild code word. Kesphan visibly relaxes. The two guards continue to watch the dark reaches of the warehouse.

  Kesphan, a sharply dressed human, walks forward. The Morok and the female follow on his heels. He is giving Jaelle a speculative look, a common reaction to her from human males. I wonder about this, not recalling having made this observation before. I realize it comes from my link from Jaelle. As usual I am feeling more from her than from the others. She knows and expects this reaction from most males and in fact seems pleased by it.

  “Is that all of it?” Kesphan asks, gesturing at the loaders. His companions walk past him and begin examining the cases and the goods within. They have test instruments of a various sorts.

  Jaelle nods. “How come you didn’t do this all in one transaction?”

  The human shrugs. “We couldn’t get all the stash together quickly enough and Hartain rarely gives credit. Most of this load is going off-world anyway; it took time to get in touch with buyers in the asteroid belt.

  “So, Catgirl,” he says with a grin. “How come Hartain is using you? You’re the one who brought the load in.”

  Jaelle gives him a frown. “Word gets around quickly.”

  “It’s a small city in a system that’s mostly gas and rock. And back to my question.”

  “Personnel shortages,” Jaelle says easily. “Gives me a chance to move about, make connections and show my value to the local Guildmaster.” She remains unbothered by the man’s frankly sexual regard. She is beautiful and confident, but her hand does not stray from the laser on her belt.

  “Yeah,” the human female says, “that bitch Croyzer is clamping down hard.”

  “Don’t be too impressed with Hartain,” Kesphan continues as if the other had not spoken. “He’s pretty small time, Tir-a-Mar is the back end of forever. He’s not like a real Guild boss.”

  Jaelle raises an eyebrow. “He has some rather formidable operatives.”

  “Some,” he concedes. “But there might be alternatives for an enterprising young lady like you.” The men make a signal to Kesphan and begin loading the containers on electric carts. “You could do better,” he finishes.

  “Well, a girl has to keep her ears up,” Jaelle says then demonstrates by wiggling hers.

  Kesphan grins. “Don’t suppose I could talk you into coming along for the ride.”

  “Don’t suppose you could,” she returns.

  Kesphan steps forward and places the small silver metal case on the deck between them, then steps back. “Delivery accepted, Fellow Guilder. Profit to you,” he says, using the ancient formula that concludes the deal.

  Jaelle nods again, picking up the case. “Payment accepted and profit to you as well.”

  The humans back away from her as she does. As soon as she is near the doorway she spins on her heel in relief and ducks out of sight of the Guilders. She is now in a service corridor outside the warehouse, but still in from the streets. A pair of female Moroks walk by paying no attention to her.

  I detect coded activity. A microburst that is not standard. There is a military feel to it. The code draws an audio response, a short wordless sound as of a thumb being run over a microphone.

  “Jaelle,” I begin. “Be alert, I believe TAM police are closing in on your location.”

  Her body reacts with elevated pulse and respiration, but I can feel her face remain smooth. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I cannot crack the code quickly but its architecture is similar to random Confed military ones. I am getting short bursts of code now with multiple response points.”

  “What now?”

  I am infiltrating TAMPD databases and communications at attack speed. Their barriers cannot stop me but I will not be invisible due to the force and speed with which I must hack. I burst through the outer barriers and shred the virus protections in full intruder mode.

  “TAM police,” I report, “were tipped by an informant in Kesphan’s organization.”

  “Damn!”

  “Jaelle, that was aloud.”

  “I’m trapped.”

  “Not so. Follow my instructions without hesitation.” I analyze the police ambush. Not only is it the work of Croyzer, but she is present directing the op. I see her Marine training in the placement of her ambush and blocking forces. But her aggressive instincts may provide a way out. She is not waiting for the prey to come to her. Her forces are moving in.

  “Ahead left, there is a janitorial closet. Go in. Close the door. Conce
al yourself within. I am masking the signals of your Nekoan body from any life monitor or scanner, you are invisible electronically.”

  Inside Jaelle finds lockers and fits herself into one. Just in time.

  “Remain motionless; SWAT is passing your door. One is checking.”

  The door is opened and two SWAT officers peer in, covering each other, but do not enter. As they continue advancing down the hallway, the door swings closed. Over the TAM tacnet I hear the whispered, “Clear” by the team leader. I wait for them to exit the hallway.

  “Out, turn left. Proceed at your best speed.”

  Jaelle, suitcase in hand dashes out the door. Her faith in me is such that she does not even check before running down the corridor.

  “Turn right. Slow down now. Approach the spiral staircase, go down one level and wait. There are officers too close to the level below but they are moving inwards.”

  “What’s happening behind me?” she asks. “I think I just heard shots.”

  “The TAMPD have ambushed and stunned two of the other Guilders. The others are trading fire with the TAMPD. Kesphan has a needle gun and has wounded an officer—”

  “Freeze!” I order.

  A voice sounds in my head and I arrange so Jaelle can hear. “This is Croyzer. We have five in custody and one bottled up but there was a seventh life signal that is not showing now. They may be cloaked somehow. Check the other exits. “

  The officers below begin to backtrack. I realize that Croyzer is above Jaelle with her sergeant on the next level. I spot her on a surveillance camera from the building security system. Even without knowing it, they have boxed Jaelle in. I must take a more active role.

  I slam into the TAMPD network and seize control of it fully, cutting Croyzer and her sergeant off from the rest of her forces. “This is Croyzer,” I shout in her own voice, “ambush on radial C 2B. Guilders with needle guns. Officers down. We need help!”

  “What the hell?” Croyzer snaps. She looks up at her hulking sergeant in shock. “Belay that order.”

  No one hears her. The officers below Jaelle are racing to the front of the building. The tacnet is full of calls for information. Even with well-trained troops communications discipline can be difficult.