Veklocks

by S. H. Jucha

  Imian had proposed his idea of regular downsiders as candidates to his father, who lauded the concept. Moreover, the council accepted it over Dorelyn’s objections.

  However, the leaders of the underground refused to add their names, as Imian had hoped. Instead, the seconds- and thirds-in-command became the candidates. It was the likes of Noel Gunderson and Gerry Grayson who stepped forward to assume the responsibility.

  Dingles and his committee worked out a schedule. The candidates for president and the Assembly received access to Pyrean-wide broadcasts, which allowed them to present their messages to every citizen.

  By now, Imian had contacted his eleventh organization, and there were more to go.

  Dorelyn had a rare meeting in her office with Rufus, Idrian, and their three security chiefs.

  “Where do we stand?” Dorelyn requested.

  The security chiefs delivered similar reports. They were less than glowing.

  “How is it that with all the coin we’re spending that we’re not receiving more promises of bought votes?” Rufus fumed.

  “The coin is being distributed to our contacts on the JOS and the YIPS,” Eaton said, “but it’s not being spent.”

  “Why not?” Idrian asked.

  Idrian’s security chief shrugged. “Not many takers,” he said.

  “What are you hearing?” Dorelyn asked Eaton.

  “Topsiders are watching the Triton dome’s output,” Eaton replied. “The activities are the talk of the station. Were you aware that the empath and her partner discovered how to shift the dome’s vid output to an external one?”

  “Topsiders can see the access tunnels and the shuttle tubes,” Rufus’s security chief added. “They’re watching the shuttle bodies growing out of the tubes. It’s actually pretty exciting.”

  Rufus winced and marked his security chief for a reprimand, demotion, or worse. In front of Dorelyn, the man sounded like he favored the topsiders and the aliens.

  “So, the topsiders like the way things are going,” Dorelyn mused. “I assume that attitude reflects opinions about Pyre’s surface.”

  “It does,” Eaton replied. “Before the envoy made her deal with the Veklocks, most stationers perceived the development of the surface as a generational project. That’s all changed. The pace of alien construction is nothing short of amazing, and stationers see that. Now it’s believed that Pyre’s surface will be reclaimed in our lifetimes.”

  “And they’ll credit Harbour and Jessie for that,” Idrian surmised.

  “Which means they’ll support Henry Stamerson and the station’s Assembly candidates,” Dorelyn concluded.

  “Do we still have the numbers?” Rufus demanded.

  “Yes,” his head of security replied, “but not by much.”

  “I thought our population was ahead by a significant margin,” Dorelyn queried. She was annoyed that she was just learning this now.

  “Several reasons for only lately discovering this,” Eaton replied. “We don’t report our population count to the JOS, and they don’t share their numbers with us. It was decades ago when we last received any definitive count. We projected present-day topsider numbers based on historic trends. Obviously, we’re in error. The JOS is nearly at capacity, which is why excitement about the surface opening is so high.”

  “Then we’re working with estimates, but really don’t know if we have the edge in population?” Idrian asked.

  The faces of the security chiefs displayed different opinions. That there wasn’t consensus bothered the family heads.

  “That’s wonderful,” Rufus groused when he scanned the men facing him.

  “Excuse us,” Dorelyn said.

  The security chiefs knew who Dorelyn meant, and they left the office.

  “If these elections are going to be close, we’ll need to inform the council,” Dorelyn said. “Every family must redouble its efforts to ensure that every eligible downsider votes.”

  “There is a strategic approach available to us,” Idrian said. “We need control of the Assembly. That’s twenty-one of the forty representatives. We should have our citizens target those candidates who we need.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Rufus said excitedly. “We have a few more families than that number. Assign each family to gather votes for just one candidate.”

  Dorelyn hesitated, which was a mistake in front of Idrian and Rufus. The men knew it was a good play, and Dorelyn’s unwillingness to immediately say so meant she had some machination at work.

  “Dorelyn, the council overruled your objection against the workers running their candidacies,” Rufus warned. “What are you planning that would mess with them?”

  Dorelyn had counted the downside workers who had announced their candidacies. At the time, she’d found only fourteen, and she’d moved to ensure an additional twelve downsiders signed up. However, to ensure those twelve were elected, she needed to secure their votes. Unfortunately, Dorelyn miscalculated. The rate of downsider candidate signups was accelerating. Soon, there would be too many downsider candidates for the families to be assigned to cover one of them and ensure the families won the Assembly’s majority.

  “Well?” Idrian prompted Dorelyn.

  “I’ve added some of my people to the candidate’s list,” Dorelyn admitted.

  “How many?” Idrian pressed.

  “Too many,” Dorelyn said.

  “Oh, for the love of Pyre,” Rufus wailed. “I thought you were supposed to be the clever one. We come up with a good idea to secure the Assembly, and we find out you’re trying to crack our dome.”

  Dorelyn’s jaw clamped shut. That she’d been placed in this ignominious position threatened a colossal loss of temper. Ironically, in this case, she was the one in the wrong.

  “You’ll need to direct your nominees to withdraw their candidacies,” Idrian said quietly. “Do that, and we won’t need to inform the council.”

  Idrian saw Rufus’s head jerk in his direction. He knew how badly Rufus wanted Dorelyn to drop her run for the presidency, and Rufus had thought he’d found the perfect lever to unseat her. However, Rufus was often shortsighted, and Idrian recognized that. The families needed to retain control. Dorelyn wasn’t the perfect choice, but she held the council’s majority. Accepting that, it was critical to win the Assembly and consolidate their power over the topsiders. Everything else was secondary.

  Dorelyn regarded Rufus and waited. She watched various emotions flit across his face.

  “Rufus,” Idrian prompted softly, breaking the silence.

  Rufus stared at Idrian. He knew Idrian was right. Nevertheless, it hurt to say so. “Agreed,” he allowed through gritted teeth.

  “They’ll withdraw their names over a period of days,” Dorelyn said. “It’ll raise too many questions from Captain Bassiter if they drop off at the same time.”

  Dorelyn’s reminder that the Belle’s captain controlled the election process and the potential fate of the families’ power had a chilling effect.

  * * * *

  Caitie arrived home from work one evening to find Noel engrossed in a conversation with Thomas, the brilliant young man who headed the domes’ electric vehicle programming.

  “Hello, Thomas,” Caitie said cheerfully before she recognized the somber mood of both men. “Problem?” she asked, suddenly on the alert.

  “Possibly,” Noel replied.

  Caitie took a seat at the table, and said, “Bring me up-to-date.”

  “I’ve asked Thomas to track Imian’s travels by e-trans,” Noel said.

  “We can do that?” Caitie asked.

  “Not in general,” Thomas said, “but Noel provided me with Imian’s voiceprint. That’s how we track him. He speaks the destination. If the vehicle determines there’s a match, it signals the servers.”

  “Okay, I’m following you, so far,” Caitie said.

  “The next step was to overlay vehicle traffic on top of Imian’s trips,” Thomas explained.

  “Why?” Caitie asked. />
  “My request,” Noel said. “I’m keeping an eye on Imian.”

  Caitie didn’t respond to her husband, but she did nod at Thomas to continue.

  “The idea was to look for similarities between Imian’s route and other vehicle traffic,” Thomas explained.

  “The vehicles are programmed to follow set paths,” Caitie pointed out. “Why wouldn’t most of them appear to follow Imian?”

  “I filter out the e-carts,” Thomas replied. “They’re for cargo, and I filter out the e-trans that aren’t directed to destinations. Then the remaining vehicles have to be individually analyzed. Unfortunately, the data’s amount and complexity prevented me from providing Noel an answer until he provided an idea.”

  When Caitie regarded Noel, he explained. “It occurred to me that anyone following Imian wouldn’t know where the boy was going. They would have had to continually provide the e-trans with incremental directions.”

  “With that piece of information, it was easy,” Thomas declared.

  “What was the result?” Caitie asked.

  “Imian was first followed on the day he visited the fourth group for us,” Noel replied, “and every day and night since then.”

  Caitie’s heart lurched and her face hardened. “They could be collecting his contacts,” she declared, “and they’ll know he’s visited you each time before he’s made contact. This is a disaster.”

  “We’ve been discussing what the data show,” Noel said calmly. “Listen to what we surmise.”

  Caitie brought her bout of anxiety under control. “Go ahead,” she said.

  “We discovered every e-trans that follows Imian received its first directive from Dorelyn Gaylan’s house,” Thomas said.

  “Each time, there’s a single individual in the vehicle,” Noel added.

  Caitie frowned, and Thomas supplied, “Sensors in the seats communicate the numbers of passengers. It helps us predict passenger traffic loads.”

  “So, one individual from Dorelyn’s security team follows Imian on each visit to another group,” Caitie summarized. “But how do they know when he’s leaving the house?”

  “They don’t, Caitie,” Noel said, slightly exasperated. His wife had a habit of interrupting speakers with questions instead of waiting to hear the complete report.

  “One of Dorelyn’s security people takes an e-trans to a point near the Tuttle house. Then that individual waits until Imian leaves and follows him or until his replacement arrives and relieves him,” Thomas said.

  “Are they following Imian to Noel’s agri-dome?” Caitie asked.

  “When Imian enters my agri-dome, the tailing e-trans halts on the other side of the interconnector and waits until Imian leaves the agri-dome,” Noel said. “They know there’s no other interconnector to my dome, and they probably believe they’ll be spotted if they come inside.”

  Caitie started to ask another question, and Noel held up a hand. “Here’s the best part,” he said. “When Imian arrives at his contact’s destination, the security person remains in the vehicle.”

  “How do you know …” Caitie managed to say before she realized her error. “Oh, right, the seat sensors.”

  Noel nodded. Then he added, “The entire routine appears to be a cursory tail of Imian. He’s suspected by Dorelyn because of his time on the Belle and his relationship with Sasha. Add to that Imian’s change in dress and habit, mix it with Dorelyn’s paranoia, and you have a simple assignment to her security.”

  “If I could add an opinion?” Thomas asked. He waited for Caitie’s approval before he said, “There are more efficient ways to use an e-trans to tail someone. It looks like Dorelyn told her security chief to check Imian out. Then the task was assigned to low-level agents, who’ve limited imagination.”

  “The reports the agents deliver up the line have to be fairly thin,” Noel hypothesized. “They don’t know where Imian’s going. They follow him to a destination, but they don’t investigate the buildings he enters, which means they don’t know who he’s meeting.”

  “Is Imian following your suggestions about doing small things before he makes contact?” Caitie asked with concern.

  Noel chuckled, which irked Caitie, but he couldn’t help it. He was enjoying relating his story. “Imian’s not taking my advice,” Noel said. “He’s been listening to the envoy and the advisor. He not only makes stops before he makes contact. He makes stops afterwards.”

  “When Imian intends to make contact, his travel logs indicate that he’s gone from his house for a period of six to eight hours,” Thomas added with a grin.

  “I can hear the reports to the security chief now,” Noel said. “Well, sir, we followed him for most of the day. We stopped at this clothing store, this associate’s house, this food stop, this place of business, this —” Noel had quickly halted when Caitie’s eyes narrowed at him.

  “Does Imian know or suspect he’s being followed?” Caitie asked.

  “He hasn’t said anything to me,” Noel replied, “and we’ve just come to that conclusion ourselves.”

  “We should immediately end contact with Imian,” Caitie said with emphasis.

  “Thank you, Thomas,” Noel said graciously. “You’ve done a wonderful job. Keep an eye on Imian for me.”

  “I will,” Thomas replied. After a quick glance at Caitie, he hurried out of the apartment. He had no desire to stay for the argument that was sure to come.

  “We end it,” Caitie repeated fiercely.

  “We had an agreement,” Noel retorted. “He didn’t come to another meeting, and he hasn’t. For which you allowed that I would handle the contact with him.”

  “The tailing of Dorelyn’s security changes everything,” Caitie said. “I’m canceling our agreement. In your next contact, tell Imian not to come to the agri-dome anymore.”

  “That’s a mistake,” Noel snapped back. He’d raised his voice for the first time in a long while. “Security has seen him come to the agri-dome every day. If he suddenly changes his routine, they might investigate.”

  “It’s a chance we’ll have to take. End it,” Caitie pronounced with finality and left the table.

  “No,” Noel replied hotly.

  Her husband’s denial halted Caitie in her tracks, and she spun around to stare at him. “I lead our group,” she declared.

  “And I’m the Assembly candidate,” Noel reminded Caitie. “You had an opportunity to embrace the future, but you chose not to. Imian’s risking his life for us, and he’s a teenager. I’m not going to cut him loose when he most needs us. If you want your declaration to stand, then I’ll not attend any more meetings, and you can relocate the group. Furthermore, I’ll find another apartment. If I’m taken, I can say we’ve been separated for a while.”

  Caitie was stunned. She couldn’t believe Noel was choosing a family’s son over her and the group’s safety. Without a word, she turned and exited the apartment.

  “Nicely done,” Noel muttered, resting his head in his hands. He couldn’t remember the last time he shared such harsh words with Caitie. He believed in what he said. He just wished he’d found a better and less combative way to say it.

  -36-

  Target

  In the morning, Dorelyn delivered her third Pyre-wide address concerning her candidacy. Reports from the other family heads said that she came across as cool and business-like. She interpreted their criticism as she lacked warmth and personality. It made her think that Idrian might have been a better choice.

  The election was three days away, and Dorelyn couldn’t shake the feeling that Sika needed to be dealt with sooner than later. The assassin could be a huge detriment to her reputation if she fell into the hands of JOS security and the young woman chose to out their relationship.

  While Dorelyn sat brooding at her desk, Eaton tapped at her door. She half-listened, while he updated her on several ongoing projects. Nothing needed her immediate attention, and when he finished, she waved him away.

  Dorelyn returned to think
ing about Sika. Then something Eaton had said clicked. During one of his reports, he’d said there was nothing new to communicate about Imian.

  “Who said so?” Dorelyn whispered softly.

  Imian would make a significant target for Sika, Dorelyn thought. She examined the timeline until the election. She’d have to move quickly, which would fit with the story she’d have to sell. When she’d completed the framework of her plan, she called Eaton to her office.

  “You’ve seen the young woman, the prim and proper one, who occasionally visits my office,” Dorelyn said.

  Eaton wanted to say, “Yes, the woman who you never cared to introduce to me.” Instead, he settled for, “Yes.”

  “I want her eliminated,” Dorelyn said. “It’ll have to be a trap. I’m the bait, and it must be sprung in my office.”

  Eaton frowned. “I assume she’s a downsider,” he said.

  “She is,” Dorelyn replied. “She’s been working for me as an assassin.”

  “Her?” Eaton asked dubiously.

  Dorelyn ran down a list of six successful high-profile murders on the JOS, which included Roby and Emerson. “Those were Sika’s work,” she said in conclusion.

  Eaton stood still. He sought a chair without being told he could sit. His mind grappled to make sense of the image of the slight, demure woman he’d seen and the deadly acts she’d committed.

  “You trying to figure out how Sika could take out those people I mentioned and more?” Dorelyn asked. Despite briefly sympathizing with Eaton, she brusquely said, “Don’t try. She doesn’t think and feel like us. She’s a cold, impersonal machine when it comes to planning her work. The only time she’s missed her target was the recent time on the JOS.”

  “Harbour and Cinders,” Eaton said in surprise,

  “Yes, and that failure and Sika’s subsequent capture means she’s no longer of value to me,” Dorelyn stated unequivocally. “She’s become a liability, a risk I can’t afford.”

  “It would be safer to eliminate her at her residence,” Eaton offered. “Where does she live?”

  “I don’t know,” Dorelyn replied. “When I need her services, I drop a message.”