by S. H. Jucha
“Good! Don’t ever do it,” Harbour said. “That’s evidence of what you’re doing.”
“If my father found out, he’d be furious,” Imian admitted, “but he’d cover for me. I’d have to promise to stop, but I’d be okay.”
Jessie and Harbour exchanged pained expressions. Imian’s privileged life was hampering his realization of the dangerous game he was playing.
“Imian, listen to me carefully,” Jessie said. “The woman who attacked us is believed to be the same person who executed the ex-commandant and the man who attacked the present one. Furthermore, Sasha and you are right. The attacker is a downsider.”
“What Jessie is saying, Imian, is that there are family heads who are willing to kill stationers if they feel threatened,” Harbour explained.
“You’ve probably met the types we’re talking about, Imian … Lise Panoy, Dorelyn Gaylan, and Rufus Stewart,” Jessie added. “Your father might not have an opportunity to protect you before some of their security personnel snatched you to extract information.”
“In that case, I’d be just another disappeared,” Imian muttered.
“What did you say?” Harbour asked in alarm.
“Do our deaths get reported topside?” Imian asked.
“I don’t think so,” Jessie replied. “That’s one of the problems of our present political structure. The families have jurisdiction over the domes.”
“We have deaths from natural causes and accidents,” Imian explained. “Then we have disappearances.”
“Disappear to where?” Jessie asked in confusion.
“Most of us, meaning the families’ children, believe they’re buried outside the domes,” Imian replied.
“Are you sure that’s what’s happening?” Harbour asked.
“There are enough stories and partial sightings that most of us believe it to be true,” Imian said. “If it weren’t for Commandant Finian’s timely raid on Markos Andropov’s house, Sasha and her family would have ended outside the domes.”
Sasha’s wide-eyed stare at Harbour necessitated the envoy calm the teenager. Thankfully, Sasha didn’t resist by closing her gates.
“How many people are we talking about?” Harbour asked.
“I’ve no idea,” Imian replied.
“In a year, Imian, would it be more or less than ten?” Harbour pursued.
“Ten?” Imian repeated in surprise. “Certainly not. It’s probably more like fifty to a hundred.”
“Buried outside the domes,” Jessie said, seeking confirmation.
“When I was young, my teacher taught me about the make-up of Pyre’s surface,” Imian said. “Later, I was showing off to one of my father’s security agents and telling him what I’d learned about the surface’s heat and the acidic gases and soil. He laughed, and said they were good for dissolving bodies. It wasn’t until years later that I understood that he wasn’t making a facetious remark.”
Imian waited. The silence on the call stretched out.
“Envoy, now maybe you can understand why I’m anxious to help you,” Imian said. “Downsiders have to stop disappearing.”
“If you think you’re in trouble, Imian, you come topside. Do you hear me?” Sasha asked forcefully.
Imian chuckled. “I remember the warning,” he said. “If something happens to me, you’re going to come down here and melt people’s brains.”
Sasha glanced guiltily at Harbour, who frowned at the teenager.
“Sasha has a point, Imian,” Jessie interjected. “If you suspect you’re being followed or your room has been searched or anything like that, you should notify Sasha and catch the next El lift.”
“I understand,” Imian said, which to the topsiders didn’t sound like a promise to follow the suggestion.
“One more thing, Imian,” Jessie said. “Were you given anything to hand to the recycling group?”
“Yes, it’s a tiny chip that will enable the recyclers to communicate with the fruit factory group via the e-trans vehicles,” Imian replied.
“Are you carrying it on you?” Jessie asked.
“Oops,” Imian replied, realizing his mistake.
“Before you go into the meeting tonight, hide it somewhere nearby,” Jessie said. “Make it someplace that’s easy to describe to your contact.”
“Then I tell them where it is, but I don’t take them there,” Imian said excitedly, catching on to the precaution.
“And in the future, Imian, you make Noel or someone from his group deliver the new chip to you near the next contact. Then you immediately hide it,” Jessie said.
“Good ideas. Don’t record conversations. Don’t make notes. Don’t handle evidence any longer than I must, and don’t carry the chip into meetings,” Imian recited.
“Imian, how are you supposed to convince these new groups of your good intentions?” Harbour asked. “I mean you are Idrian Tuttle’s son.”
“Noel told me that I did a good job convincing his group because I sounded honest about what had happened to me and how it had changed me,” Imian said proudly.
“Did you know Noel before a couple of days ago?” Jessie asked.
“Oh, yes,” Imian said, and he related the story of how they’d met and the time they’d spent together.
“But the recyclers are strangers, and you don’t know the leader,” Harbour sought to confirm.
“Yeah, that’s about it,” Imian agreed.
“Does anyone know your comm ID?” Jessie asked.
“Just Sasha, JOS security, and maybe you two,” Imian replied. “Why?”
“Keep it that way,” Jessie replied. “If your device is ever out of your sight or taken from you, stop everything you’re doing and make for the El. Someone will have become suspicious of your activities.”
“I’ve an idea,” Harbour said suddenly. “Take your comm unit with you to the meeting tonight.”
“I’m supposed to leave it behind, like I did for the meeting with Noel’s people,” Imian objected.
“Not anymore,” Harbour replied forcefully. “You’re the one risking your neck. You do what you need to do to protect yourself. Take your device with you and talk to this new group. When you’re ready, take it out, and call Sasha. Jessie and I’ll be ready to convince them of your value.”
“Wow,” Imian breathed quietly into his comm unit.
“Be safe,” Harbour said, indicating to Sasha that she could take the call.
When Sasha left the room, chattering with her friend, Jessie said, “And I thought the effects from Aurelia and you were powerful.”
Harbour smiled. “Powerful, trained empaths have a great degree of control and usually develop the type of personality that seeks to practice that control. On the other hand, Sasha erupts when she feels like it. The rest of us, empaths I mean, are always narrowing our gates around her. Normals will just have to suffer until she chooses to manage her sendings more judiciously.”
* * * *
Caitie closed their comm unit. Noel and she had listened to Imian’s latest call.
“Okay, I’ll say it,” Caitie replied to Noel’s fixed stare. “Perhaps, I underestimated Imian’s value to us.”
“Perhaps?” Noel retorted.
“I was being careful. That’s my job, in case you forgot,” Caitie shot back.
“And I gave you my opinion about the boy, and it was ignored,” Noel riposted.
“So, what changes?” Caitie asked.
“Nothing for this meeting. It’s too late,” Noel said. “But we’ll follow the envoy and advisor’s suggestions to protect Imian. From now on, I’ll set the parameters for how we treat Imian, agreed?”
Caitie stared quietly at her husband. In matters concerning their organization, she led and Noel followed. That’s the way it had been without exception until now.
Yet, Caitie knew her husband well. He was a quiet and thoughtful man until he wasn’t. Noel was adamant about Imian, and Caitie couldn’t find a logical reason to object. She got up from the table, kis
sed Noel on the top of his head, and said, “You can handle Imian, but he doesn’t come to another of our meetings.”
-31-
If We Win
While Imian met with Noel in the agri-done, Liam held one of his own meetings. Cecilia and Miguel sat in Liam’s office with the door closed.
“Everything I’m about to tell you is based on the outcome of the presidential election,” Liam said. “If a topsider wins, we must be ready.”
“Do you know something about who might win?” Miguel asked. When Liam stared quietly at him, Miguel nodded his acceptance of the silent rebuke.
“I’ve drafted a plan, which I’ll submit to the president on his or her election,” Liam continued. “If accepted, each of you will be promoted to major. One of you will be stationed on the JOS. The other will travel downside with me.”
“Do you know which one of us will accompany you downside?” Cecilia asked. She was thinking of her family, but she had to acknowledge that Miguel had one of his own.
“I’ll transfer the entire family downside of whichever one of you I station below,” Liam replied. “There’s always the chance that the downsiders win it all.”
“What if that does happen?” Miguel asked.
Liam thought for a moment, and his face twisted in a wry smile. “Then the three of us will probably lose our jobs, and I would suggest we apply for positions aboard the Belle. Moreover, I suggest you take your families with you.”
“To do what?” Miguel asked. “It’s not like the colony ship needs security.”
Cecilia chuckled. She understood Liam’s message. “I’ve always wanted to work with green things,” she said. “Maybe I could get a job in the hydroponics gardens. My family would get more fresh food, and with my code training, I could work to update and maintain the ship’s systems.”
Liam regarded Miguel with a lift of an eyebrow.
“I’ll have to think on this,” Miguel replied sourly. “Right now, the only thing I can think of is janitorial service.”
Liam and Cecilia briefly laughed. Then Liam’s smile faded and he brooded for a moment. He wondered what skills he had to offer Dingles. It might be time to get retrained, he thought.
Dismissing that direction of thought, Liam said, “Let’s think positively. We win, and then we’ve got work to do. You need to focus on your picks for lieutenants and sergeants.”
“We’re going to be prematurely promoting a lot of officers,” Miguel warned.
“It can’t be helped,” Liam said. “Emerson let this department drift toward understaffing for years. I believe it was deliberate not incompetence. To compensate, I’ve tasked admissions with hiring sixty new recruits.”
“Sixty newbies?” Cecilia asked in surprise. “In what fields?”
“Primarily as patrolling officers,” Liam replied. “They’ll be the majority of the force who descends downside.”
“Liam, you can’t throw newbies into a potentially adverse situation like the domes,” Cecilia protested.
“I agree,” Miguel added strenuously.
Liam smiled and leaned back in his chair.
“What don’t we know?” Miguel inquired curiously.
“You know the forty who Harbour repaired,” Liam hinted. “Most of them were spacers, who were permanently disabled. I had admissions contact them and offer signing bonuses. We’ve twenty-nine new recruits. I interviewed each and every one. Tough group, those spacers.”
“Could they be promoted to sergeants and corporals after passing their training?” Cecilia asked.
“What position would you give a first mate, who was an eleven-year veteran of a mining ship and walked on surfaces that we can’t imagine?” Liam asked.
“Probably my job,” Miguel replied in awe.
“How many held officer status?” Cecilia asked.
“Most of them were either ship’s officers or leads of prospecting teams or ships’ operations,” Liam replied.
“And Harbour is looking to repair every Pyrean,” Miguel mused.
“And a downside president can’t do anything about that,” Liam pointed out.
“Why not?” Cecilia queried.
“I’ve learned from Harbour and Jessie that the Tsargit council couldn’t care less about these construction projects,” Liam replied. “Apparently, the coin to build them is a miniscule amount to the alliance. What the council wants is contained in the heads of two Pyreans.”
“Devon and Aurelia,” Miguel supplied.
“Correct,” Liam replied. “In the meeting with the Tsargit council, Harbour and Jessie won a critical point. The projects must be completed before Aurelia and Devon share their secrets.”
“That means the council won’t tolerate any interference in pursuit of its prize,” Cecilia reasoned. She leaned back in her chair, and her grin matched Liam’s.
“Wow,” Miguel breathed. “We’re going to have a couple of thousand spacers and stationers returned to full functionality.”
“Just in time,” Liam added. “Someone has to run Triton dome, pilot and maintain the alien’s twin shuttles, service the new medical station, and operate the launch platform.”
“How do we handle alliance funds?” Cecilia asked. “I’m presuming that they’ll come into play sometime.”
“I wanted to know the very same thing,” Liam remarked. “I was told by Jessie that I should assemble some bright minds and figure it out, and I’m doing just that.”
“How?” Cecilia asked.
Liam’s comm unit buzzed, and he glanced at it. “I’ve sent the new recruit list to your devices,” he said. “Look the people over and start organizing. Miguel, you’re excused. Cecilia, you stay.” Then he got up and followed Miguel out of the office.
When Liam returned, he said, “Lieutenant Lindstrom, I’d like you to meet Delegate Dottie Franks.”
“Ex-delegate,” Dottie replied, holding out her hand to Cecilia, who stood and shook it warmly.
Liam resumed his seat. “I’ve a challenge for the two of you,” he said. “Dottie, you’ve journeyed with the envoy. You’ve met our neighbors, and you’re an investor. Lieutenant Lindstrom is one of our most knowledgeable security personnel when it comes to our server operations. I’d like the two of you to submit a proposal to me about what it would take to implement a financial exchange system.”
“What are we exchanging?” Dottie asked.
“Alien funds,” Cecilia supplied.
Dottie stared at her and then Liam, who nodded seriously.
“What do they use?” Dottie asked.
Liam shrugged, but Cecilia replied, “We can presume it’s digital and a unit that’s common to the alliance races.”
“I wouldn’t know where to start,” Dottie complained.
“The first thing I’d suggest would be to contact the Belle,” Cecilia offered. “The ship has a means of signaling the Triton dome. We send a bunch of questions to Aurelia and Devon, and they ask the aliens.”
Dottie eyed Cecilia. She evaluated the lieutenant as a sharp and competent officer. “Basic questions, like what?” Dottie asked, suddenly intrigued.
“I can think of several,” Cecilia replied. “What’s the unit called? Is it counted in base ten? What are common values of its worth, such as how much for an engineer or tech’s daily wages? You can probably garner a set of questions from your associates.”
“I know I can,” Dottie replied enthusiastically. “Are you acquainted with the Starlight cantina?”
“I’ve never been inside,” Cecilia replied. “Too pricey for me.”
“Dress civilian. Be there after this evening’s meal. I’ve some friends I want you to meet,” Dottie said with a smile.
“Then I can leave this project in your hands?” Liam asked.
“Will your office be implementing this system?” Dottie asked instead.
“Only on approval of the new president and the Assembly,” Liam replied.
“Yes, the referendum was approved,” Dottie commented. “Your
request’s timing couldn’t be better, Commandant. I’ll be announcing my candidacy for representative after Captain Bassiter publishes the details. I’ll expect to hear you make an announcement for me.”
“I won’t be endorsing candidates,” Liam said sternly. “That’s something that Emerson would have done.”
“You mistake me, Commandant,” Dottie said pleasantly. “I only want you to announce that the lieutenant and I are heading a research project for you to design a system to integrate alien funds in exchange for Pyrean coin. That should give my candidacy some nice credentials. Are we in agreement?”
“We are,” Liam said, hiding his reluctance.
“Good,” Dottie replied briskly. She stood, shook Liam’s hand, and said to Cecilia, “See you this evening about nineteen hours. You can keep your coin in your account. You’ll be my guest.”
After Dottie left, Liam regarded Cecilia, and asked, “Did I mistake that woman’s first request?”
“I don’t believe you did, sir,” Cecilia replied. “I think a businessperson probably starts the offer high and always has a fallback price. You bought the latter.”
“Do you think you can work with her?” Liam asked.
“Sure,” Cecilia replied. “I’m handling the implementation side, the tech details. As long as I don’t have to make deals with her, I’ll be fine.”
Cecilia ended her remarks with a grin, and Liam frowned. He had a feeling that he was going to learn more about making deals than he ever wanted to know. Maybe it would be better for the downsiders to win, he thought briefly, and then he quickly dismissed the idea.
* * * *
Aboard the Belle, Dingles formed a committee. It consisted of officers, empaths, artists, and engineers. He ensured that Makana was included. The artist had been despondent after the exposure of Luna. She felt personally responsible for the attack on Harbour and Jessie. The empaths continually supported her, and Dingles thought the committee work would help her focus on the future, not the past.
Committee members were required to read through the Belle’s documents concerning the captain’s requirements upon making planetfall.