by Nathan Pedde
Elsie walked over to the bench, and she sat on the very right side. She squeezed the signaling device lightly until it made a clicking noise and a green light appeared.
Beside either side of the bench was a flower pot filled with sunflowers. Elsie reached into the flower pot and pulled out a phone in a clear plastic bag.
She pulled the phone out as it began to ring.
Elsie jumped and looked at the display. It said, ‘Unknown.’
She answered it.
“Hello,” Elsie said.
“This is Alpha Omega,” a Woman’s Voice said over the phone.
Elsie knew it was her older sister, but she was supposed to use code words just in case someone was listening in. However, Elsie knew people were listening in. She thought of at least three agents from Jovian Intelligence who heard every word Elsie said on the phone.
“Zero-three-eight-Delta-Gamma,” Elsie said her check in code, “Confirm.”
“Eight-niner-Kilo-Charlie,” the woman known as Alpha Omega replied.
“What do you want?” Elsie said.
“I want a status report, Agent.”
“My status is, I’m no longer in service. Remember,” Elsie said.
“Negative on the non-status. You’ve been re-confirmed as active and in service,” Alpha Omega said.
“Active?”
“Information sources say the target, while not the suspected one, is from your school. You may know him personally. You’re to use your current position in Station Intelligence to your advantage to find him. Don’t blow cover again.”
Elsie rolled her eyes.
“Confirm acceptance,” Alpha Omega said.
Elsie hated that it all made her sound like she had a choice.
“Confirm?” her Sister repeated.
“Confirm,” Elsie said.
“A confirm has been entered, and you’re to burn all used phones. New ones will be sent to you by normal means.”
Her sister, Alpha Omega, had hung up without another word.
“I guess I wasn’t fired after all,” Elsie muttered herself.
Chapter 20
The next day after finishing his regular high school for the day, Des had been ordered to go to the safehouse. Nothing had changed in it besides some of the clutter in the apartment.
Des was amazed most people didn’t even know the neighborhood existed. It was squirreled away seemingly in plain sight underneath the elevated roadway which snaked its way around the station. Most people drove over the community without realizing people lived there. If they did know it existed, most people didn't enter the neighborhood to explore it.
Des sat at a collapsible fold-up chair next to the card table. Des wasn’t wearing any disguises or uniforms again. He was merely Des, and he had a slightly bored look on his face.
Cooley sat across from him. A couple of tablets lay on the table, their screens were open to different pages.
Sitting in the middle of the table was a large handheld devise which was made out of altered pieces of remote controls. The gadget looked like a homemade toy which had mismatched parts and buttons. Dials with handwritten numbers, which seemed to Des they were in no foreseeable pattern.
“Are you understanding?” Cooley asked for the umpteenth time.
“Not really,” Des said, “This is very advanced stuff.”
“Can you please try and repeat what I’ve been saying to you?” Cooley said.
“The scanner monitors communications between different points of the station,” Des said, “and we’re trying to use it to find out who made those communications when they were trying to blow up the station with missiles.”
“Yes, but not only that, the scanner monitors all of the communications of the entire station, at once.”
“Then shouldn’t we be looking at more data?” Des asked.
“No. It sorts through the data like how an intel-artificial intelligence will sort through information on the web, but more basic. It’ll only sort through the information we’ll need for the project at hand.”
“And that’s a good thing?”
“Yes,” Cooley said, “Sheemo did some amazing work. I can set a few parameters and then it’ll alter the data collected.”
“So can we change the settings so it’ll tell us what we need to know about the missile attack? Like who and where the other worker is?”
“It can’t find what was never there or never stored,” Cooley said, “It can’t go back into the past or into the future.”
Des picked the scanner up off of the table.
“It’s very heavy,” Des commented.
“That’s something I don’t understand. I have opened it up, and there are some weights in it to make it heavier. I don’t know enough about it to fiddle with the thing too much, or I’d remove the unnecessary pieces.”
“Unnecessary?”
“Yes, they’re pieces of metal at the bottom of the stupid thing.”
“Could it be important?” Des asked.
“Maybe, I don’t know. I don’t have a lot of time with the thing, and I keep figuring out how to do more things with it.”
“So you don’t know everything there is to know about the scanner yet?”
Cooley hesitated, “Well…”
“Cryslis did ask you become an expert on it.”
“I know…” Cooley said, “How long did Sheemo work on this thing?”
“Sheemo had a team of six, and they have been working on it all year.”
“Exactly. I’ve been looking at for a complete total of six hours.”
“Haven’t you had this all week?”
“I also have a large list of other things you three want and need, as well as a daily cover life I must make appearances in, like you do.”
“Sorry for the criticism,” Des said, “I didn’t mean it like that…”
“Of course you didn’t, but I’m one guy. Give a man a break.”
“What about the signaling device?” Des asked, “Any leads?”
Cooley slid over a tablet.
“Jovian Intelligence sent over a list of all those people who could be behind that list. I managed to go through it. You’re on the list.”
“What? They still think I’m a suspect?”
“I’m also on the list,” Cooley said, “Cryslis and Elsie aren’t on the list though.”
“Do you trust it?” Des asked as he looked at the list.
“Not one bit of it.”
“Why?” Des asked.
“How was it compiled? Who compiled it? Could it be missing some information?”
“We can start to go through the list. Use the device to cross-reference the names. If we know someone wasn’t near any of the problem signals, then we can cross them off? Right?”
“That’s a tall order on top of all of the other tasks I currently have.”
“Why don’t we bring in Sheemo?” Des asked.
“What?”
“He knows the devise more than anyone. He can do that sort of thing in a fraction of the time it’ll take you or me.”
“Are you joking?”
“Why not,” Des said, “Give me two good reasons why not and I won’t go to Cryslis with the requests.”
The door to the safehouse closed with a click.
“You two aren’t very observant,” Cryslis said, “I managed to get in here while you two were arguing.”
“My optical implant lets me see things, remember?” Cooley said, “I saw you approach. The same guy in the red hat walked down the street after you.”
Cryslis walked into the room. She was wearing a light dress and top which went down to her knees. She wouldn’t look out of place at the mall with the girls. Des couldn’t help but look, for a brief moment.
“You sure it was the same guy?”
“Eighty percent positive,” Cooley said, “He only walks by the moments after you arrive at the safehouse.”
“Jupiter save us,” Cryslis said, “start a standard wipe of
the safehouse and initiate a move. Let's not take any chances. But first, what were you two talking about?”
Des gave her a shortened version of the discussion.
“So we have a complicated scanner we don’t fully understand yet, and Des wants to bring in an expert?” Cryslis asked.
“Yes. Except the expert is a non-agent who’s also his brother. The agency frowns upon family bringing in other family members into the organization.”
“Bring him in as an informant.” Cryslis said, “Any communication with him is to be done using a holo-suit disguise with an altered voice. And rent a small warehouse space. Something small.”
“Okay,” Cooley said, “Consider it done.”
Cryslis turned to Des, “While I’m wiping and moving the safehouse, I need you to go to work and cover for me for a bit. It’s a light day anyway.”
“Sounds good,” Des said as he sat up off of the chair, “Let me know if there is anything else I can help you with.”
***
Des went to work as instructed. The trip was uneventful, not that he expected anything to happen, but part of him expected things to happen.
When he arrived at work, he changed into his work uniform. Des headed towards the bag room, where his bag of parcels waited for him.
Waiting in the hallway was Diplin. He had a sneer and a grin on his face.
“Lovely to see you today,” Diplin said, “I see you’re working instead of Cryslis today.”
Des didn’t say anything. He wanted to, but couldn’t trust he could keep his mouth shut.
“Oh by the way,” Diplin said, “My dad wants to see you.”
“Sure he does,” Des said.
There was no way he was going to fall for that trick. He had deliveries to make.
He entered the bag room where a hundred bags were filled with parcels for around the station. It was usually a busy place, but all of the deliveries had already left for the day. He would be the last one out.
Des walked up and grabbed his bag, which was light, like Cryslis told him it would.
A moment later, his phone buzzed. It was a message from Mr. Anderson.
Get up here now, the message said.
Des hung up his bag back on the hook and headed back up to the third floor.
The floor was the same as he remembered it. He walked along the hallway to Mr. Anderson’s office.
“Sit,” Mr. Anderson growled.
Des did so.
“This feud has gone on long enough,” Mr. Anderson said.
“What feud?” Des said.
“Between you and Diplin.”
“I have no feud with him,” Des said.
“You don’t?”
“Not at all,” Des said, “I have no interest in fighting with him. If he does nothing else to me, then that’ll be the end of it.”
“And the disciplinary committee?”
“That has nothing to do with me,” Des said, “That’s Cryslis. She feels that him hitting a kid is against a law of the station and needs to be looked at.”
“And what do you think?”
“I think she’s correct,” Des said.
“You’re putting me in a hard place,” Mr. Anderson said, “Do you know that?”
“I do.” Des said, “But it’s nothing I started, but you can finish it.”
“How do you think I can finish it?” Mr. Anderson said.
“Fire Diplin,” Des said, “You have just cause. I’m sure Station Administration will love giving him a job in sanitation.”
“Now I know why Diplin hates you so much.”
Des was silent for a moment, unsure what to say, “Can I go now? Those parcels won’t deliver themselves.”
Mr. Anderson waved him away, and Des made a hasty retreat. He didn’t want to exchange words with him anymore. Des was worried, but knew Mr. Anderson couldn’t fire him. He would need to go to Station Administration, which would refer to Captain Kusheeno, who would put his foot down and Des would stay.
Des returned to the bag room. A single packer was in the room, and Des’s bag was stuffed full.
“Who touched my bag?” Des said.
The packer shook his head and quickly left the room.
Des knew Diplin was setting him up. He pulled out his tablet and scanned the barcode on the bag. All of the parcels in the bag were supposed to be there.
He rubbed his forehead and grabbed the bag, it was going to be a long day.
***
Hours later, Des wandered down the sidewalk in the middle of the Grey Sector in an attempt to deliver all of the packages and get back home to do his homework. He hated the red from the uniform made him stand out in the middle of a crowd. The red color made him think he had a target plastered on his back.
The sectors electrically powered factories and processing plants ran all day and all night. The multiple buildings were built close to each other to save space. The windowless concrete and metal buildings gave the area an enclosed, claustrophobic feeling made Des feel uneasy.
The sidewalk was reasonably sparse with people. At the time of the day, most people would be busy working. Only a small handful walked along the pavement. It made it easy to spot anyone following him, but harder to lose them as there was no crowd. Of course, his bright uniform made losing anyone difficult.
Des stared at a small tablet in his hands. The tablet had a red Courier One protective case which protected it from Des dropping the device or throwing it against the nearest wall. Des was having troubles with the tablet. He was hunting for an address so he could deliver a small letter-sized package. He had been searching for at least fifteen minutes. He was sure it was a fake package which was meant to either get Des to waste time or worse.
Des thought Diplin had attempted to force him to quit his job. The method was as old as work itself, make the hated coworker's life a living hell and he would resign on his own. However, Des knew he wouldn’t be allowed to get a new job. The answer would be that there was a war on, and the Captain would force him to stay, no matter what Diplin did to him.
He looked at the map on his tablet. He looked up at the landmarks along the street and nothing matched up. The route was loaded up on the tablet must be wrong. Des knew it was Diplin and his boss, Mr. Anderson wanting to mess with Des. He knew it had to be.
In the middle of the industrial Grey Sector, was some small shopping stores. It allowed the workers of this sector to buy a hot lunch once in a while. In the corner of an intersection, was a coffee shop. The coffee shop had a large glass window with a row of tall bar seating. Des saw a line of patrons sitting at the window bar.
Sitting together next in the middle of the window was Veer and Diplin. They grinned at Des and held their coffee cups up in a mock salute.
“Cryslis,” Des said over the neuronet, “I’ve sighted Veer and Diplin in the Grey Sector.”
“Roger that,” Cryslis said, “Are you still working?”
“I’ve been set up with an over-stuffed bag and a mock package."
"Are you sure?"
"It has a non-existent address.”
“Then they’re setting you up,” Cryslis said, "You need to deliver the package somewhere and get out."
"If I deliver it to the wrong address Diplin will use it against me," Des said.
"I can’t do anything about that," Cryslis said.
"Nothing good can come from this,” Des said.
Des walked down the street and left the coffee shop behind. He walked across the street and dodged a cube van as he did.
He knew he had to get himself to his hover-scooter to get out of the situation. He would drive the scooter back to the closest place he saw and deliver the package there. He would figure out the consequences of delivering it wrong later, somehow.
Des looked over his shoulder and saw Veer and Diplin walking along the sidewalk the same way he was walking. They grinned and waved at Des.
“They’re now following me,” Des said to Cryslis over the Neuronet.
>
“Are you sure?” Cryslis asked.
“Yes. They’re being very obvious about it. The jerks are waving at me.”
“Get out,” Cryslis said, “Abandon the delivery and go.”
Des looked down the street and sitting where he left it was his hover-scooter. The bright red paint made it very easy to spot at a distance.
Des looked down a small dead-ended alleyway. A small doorway with some brass numbers screwed to the top of the door. There was the address he was hunting for.
Maybe it isn’t a mock address, Des thought.
“I see the package location.” Des said to Cryslis, “I’ll deliver it and get out.”
“Roger that,” Cryslis replied.
Des walked up to the door and knocked on it. A few moments later, the door opened up to reveal a small, slender man.
“Are you Roy G. Butters?” Des asked the man.
“Yes, I am,” Roy answered.
Des slapped the letter onto his chest. The man instinctively grabbed the package.
“You’ve been served,” Des said.
Des walked away from the doorway, leaving the man bewildered and confused. He didn’t look back but heard the door close after a moment.
As Des reached the mouth of the alley, Diplin and Veer stood in Des’s path.
“Why have you been avoiding us?” Diplin asked.
“Why would I do that?” Des asked, “I simply have learned to ignore stupid.”
“Are you calling me…” Diplin replied.
“Yes,” Des said.
Des pulled out pin shooter from the sleeve to his jacket as it was shaped to be easily concealed and hidden. He aimed the pin shooter at Diplin.
“I’ve had enough of this,” Des said, “Let me do my job.”
Chapter 21
Diplin took a step forward and Des shot the pin shooter. The pin hit Diplin square in the chest. Des watched Diplin stiffen and fall over into Veer. The electric shocks rocked through them both for a moment.
Des jumped over Diplin and raced towards his hover-scooter.
“A little something I got to deal with criminals, dogs, and nasty people,” Des said.