by J. F. Holmes
“I thought Sherry broke her leg?”
“Nah! She just hit a nerve bundle behind her knee. It worked itself out. She’s sore, but back to full function.” Saully rose up from his seat. “I’m heading back to help out. Later.”
“We’re all kinda busy and tired I guess.” She stretched and got up herself. “I’m hitting the head then getting back upstairs in case the UN actually hurries up.”
Rosia made it into the head and finished her business quickly, as there were probably a half dozen people waiting outside. She washed her hands under the sonics and opened the door. The face waiting outside her door nearly made her jump out of her skin. PRATT! She just paused a second, staring at the man waiting to get in, then excused herself as she went forward to the common area. The man went in and closed the door. Her heart, on the other hand, was nearly beating out of her well-formed chest. The adrenaline was coursing, and she actually started shaking. Whether from being so tired, or seeing a man they were wont to kill right on board her ship, her nerves wouldn’t settle.
“What!” Jack whispered back to Rosia after she told him Pratt was aboard.
“He’s in the toilet!” she whispered back nervously. “I’m telling you, Pratt is here! On this ship! Right fucking here!” Rosia had her hand on the old, loaded .357 revolver. Jack stopped her cold by grabbing her hand.
“Wait a minute. Until we verify it’s Pratt, no one is going to take any action, got it?” He held her hand firm.
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and released her hold on the gun. “And when we do ID him, I want to make a chair out of his hide.”
Rosia made her way back to the bridge, and the three men watched her go up the ladder.
“She’s certain it’s him, and she’s pissed as hell,” Saully observed. “Lousy material for a chair, though.”
“Thanks, Captain Obvious. We can handle it from here,” Tito cracked as he took a seat. “ We went through all their IDs, and there is no Pratt among them.”
“I’d know him,” Jack affirmed. “Saully, care to take a walk with me? I think I need to double check the ID of that guy.”
Jack and Saully relieved Sherry as she was finishing up helping an elderly gentleman with a wound he’d received at the station. Jack checked the crowd for anyone he’d recognize as Pratt, but for the life of him, they all looked innocuous. One man looked to be about the right height and size, but the face wasn’t quite right. He had Saully snap a pic on the security monitor to show Rosia before they walked up to the man. He was sitting along the wall, alone, in the back. Well, as alone as you could get with several hundred refugees and their children aboard. Rosia confirmed it was him. Jack and Saully walked up.
“Hey, bud. I’m Jack, this is Saully. We’re asking for volunteers, and wanted to see if you could help us out?”
“Sure,” the man replied, offering a hand. “I’m David Bell, UN power systems consultant contracted from Monomere. I just arrived a few hours before the station was attacked. Thanks for saving everyone.”
Jack shook the man’s hand firmly. “No problem. Glad to do it.” He tried to look at the man’s face, but he seemed to be avoiding direct eye contact. He was looking at their bellies or chests, even beyond them, but not directly at their eyes. “Hey, I was thinking!” The man instinctively darted his eyes just for a second to meet Jack’s. It was him. No doubt about it. He’d had his face changed, but the eyes...the eyes never changed from their deep, cold-hearted seed of evil. “Wanna help out some kids over there with playing fraggie ball?”
“Pardon?”
“Fraggie ball. It’s like playing soccer, but in a circle, and you take turns kicking it to the other person across from you.”
“I really don’t like games, er…Jack is it?” Jack nodded yes. “I’m never really good at them.”
“Listen, Dave,” Saully said in his smooth sales voice. “I understand, trust me. But we need to keep the kids busy, or they’ll be under foot and into every nook on this ship. It keeps them out of trouble until the UN can allow us to put them off on the station here.”
“Well, I suppose I could give it a try,” Dave said reluctantly.
‘Dave’ followed them over to an area where the kids were acting bored and the parents were going nuts about the whining. Jack grabbed a soccer ball he’d brought down from stores and started kicking it back and forth between he, Saully, and Dave. Soon a teenager joined them, then a few others, then even more kids, as the game started to go a little faster. Jack dropped out, stating he needed to get back upstairs and check on things. He promised the kids and adults he’d be back.
“What’s that?” Sherry asked but already knew the answer.
“That, my dear people, is a picture of an A Number One, Genuine Fake ID,” Saully said after he’d copied the ID data into his slate.
“How can you tell if it’s fake or real?” Phil asked as he wiped a dish with a towel.
“Oh, it’s real,” Saully said.
“Oh. Then what’s the fuss about?” Phil replied.
“It’s fake.”
“But you –” Phil started to say.
“Phil, it’s made for someone who doesn’t want to be discovered among a crowd. It’s probably got a perfectly explainable history, and other verifiable data, as well, but it’s too new, too perfect, and it’s only been scanned about ten times.” Saully turned his slate toward Phil and explained. “Every ID gets processed pretty much the same way. We use it for everything, from business transactions, to transport, to doctor’s visits. But what everyone doesn’t know is that the ID database tells a story. It tells you many things, but it specifically says how many times that particular ID has been scanned directly.”
“So maybe he lost his old one and this was just issued?”
“Eleven scans in the past six months?” Saully asked rhetorically.
“Well…”
“Its issue date was seven standard years ago, Phil.”
“Oooooooh!” Phil finally got it.
“So what do we do with Dave now?” Sherry asked as she looked at the slate. “We already reported them all to the UN, so we can’t just space his sorry ass without a lot of questions and investigation.” She reached down and rubbed her left leg, where the nerves were still aggravated. Even sitting, they twinged. “And don’t forget jail time or death for killing a citizen.”
“Could claim a batch of bad rations, you know?” Phil said matter-of-factly. Sherry and Saully looked at him as if he were drunk. “What? It could happen.”
“Don’t forget that there may be more citizens among the crowd,” Tito said as he came into the common area. “Them bastards don’t usually travel alone. I think there may be more of them.”
“Good point, Tito. Very good point.” Saully looked like he was busy trying to crack a physics equation. “I’m going to see if any other ships can share some data and see what I can find.”
Less than a few hours later, the Merlin’s Ghost was suddenly bumped to the head of the line and ordered to debark her evacuees at bay six as soon as possible. The maneuvering took some time, with so many ships trying to disgorge their bounties of human tragedy. It was a tight fit, but Rosia pulled it off, and soon the cargo bay was being emptied of its refugees. Everyone was glad they’d made it, and none too soon, as the water reclamation equipment for the cargo area broke down again. Amazingly enough, the station’s engineering team was able to find suitable parts, and the equipment was fixed in hardly no time at all.
Phil, Sherry, and Jack went onto the station to see what else they could help with, as Rosia, Tito, and Saully undocked the ship and took it out to an authorized parking area, so the remaining ships could unload. Though Rosia wasn’t happy with letting Dave go, Saully reminded her that Dave was being tracked, in a fashion, by that ID he carried. Using a portable device he had for such occasions, Saully said he could find Dave in short order, if necessary.
Rosia and Tito turned their efforts to cleaning up days of evacuee messes and g
etting the ship back into a state of repair. Saully kept up with the news and other data about the incident at Indera. He was getting worried, as almost no news was available, other than mentions that ships coming into the station were to report all individuals for processing after the “Rebel’s” offensive. Saully got that uneasy feeling deep in his gut that urged a quick retreat to somewhere other than a UN military station. But they were stuck until further notice. No one was allowed to jump out until the UN was finished.
Chapter 7
EVAC Point Charlie, Gruilla Military Station, Day 2, 2237 hrs
Jack, Phil, and Sherry had gone onto the station and helped process the evacuees earlier, including “Dave”, and gave the UN personnel all of their pertinent information as to the ‘where’s, ‘when’s, ‘how’s, and ‘why’s. Enough questions to choke an advocate twice over. The security was, according to Phil, “Tighter than a Nun on Sunday”, figuratively speaking. As part of the rescue vessel’s crew, the three were given some creds to spend, care of the UN military. They purchased what items were available for the ship. Mostly spare parts and supplies they’d need later, if they could return home. Food was limited to various rations and some freeze-dried fruits and vegetables.
The station itself was typical of UN design, being functional rather than aesthetically pleasing. Gray on charcoal gray, enhanced by even more gray. Markings for the station were colored, of course, as well as the levels and areas used by station personnel. Armed guards were everywhere, and sensor drones were floating about in a flurry of scanning. Their IDs checked out, so it was mostly annoying. Whatever had caused the shooting war meant someone had pulled the trigger, and the UN was most likely the culprit.
The trio found a secluded corner near the balcony of the station’s main viewing area. The ships were parked in staggered rows, where control had placed them for safekeeping. Though without good optics, you just saw lines of different shapes at this distance. Military craft that had made it back were sequestered at the shipyard, some twenty kilometers in the opposite direction from the station.
The unofficial count of refugees was around 4,200, give or take, from all the returning vessels. Minus the armed forces, of course. Relaxing, enjoying the chance to just rest, listening to the people, noting the rather interesting conversations, or obvious lack thereof. People were being quiet about the disaster.
“Hmmm…” Sherry scribbled on her slate with a virtual stylus. “Seems there was no disaster.”
“What?” Phil chuckled. “No mention on the logs or station news feeds? Why, that would be absolutely conspiratorial.” They weren’t surprised that the suppression and coverup was now in full active mode. “Wonder why?” he asked with a smile, as the people wandered around waiting for the UN to allow them passage off station to anywhere.
“I’ve got some checking to do, so you kids behave for a few,” Jack said as he wondered over to the data board at the main area of the platform. A small list was available for people to check on others who might have made it out alive.
The board had a few queries on it from previous people, and Jack cleared it to enter his own search for Donna. The query came back, and Jack’s heart sank. She was dead. The UN data confirmed her death during the attack. Not missing, but dead. No other data came up. He punched the wall beside the terminal and anger filled his soul. Sherry came up to him and tapped his shoulder. “What?” he said, harsher than he’d intended. He’d entered the name of their mark, Dominic Cray. Alive, but not on station. Damn, it just got better and better.
“Looks like we’re being called by Rosia.”
Jack hit the comm on his wrist. “Jack, here.”
“Just letting you know your cat pissed himself,” Rosia reported. It was code for them to switch comms to encrypt on a preset channel. Saully had made the mods himself, so Jack could trust the level of fuckery his systems could dish out to anyone listening in.
“I’d better clean him up when we get back. Thanks.” He switched the channel and activated the scrambled sync to Rosia’s comm. “What’s up?”
“Getting some chatter from a few of the other ships, and a few station transmissions we can read.” Saully replied. “Someone is wiping logs and making people nervous.”
“Doesn’t surprise me. Better make encrypted copies of everything and hide them. We’ll finish up here, and be back shortly when the shuttle comes around.”
“Better hurry, not sure it’s the UN’s doing. The smell of Pratt is all over this.” Rosia ended the comm on her end.
“What’s up, Boss?” Phil asked.
“The word is Diarrhea. Looks like we have some people with a bug going around.” Jack stood and walked toward the shuttle bays. He was in no hurry to be in a hurry, but they needed to get off the station.
“Well, hello, Jack!” the familiar voice of Pratt came from nearby.
“Dave, isn’t it?” Jack slowly turned to view Pratt, who had a small cadre of six undercover types with him. Figures, he snorted in his mind. “Nice to see you’re recovering from the Fraggie-ball game. Come to visit with us?” Jack knew he was up to something.
The trace outlines of weapons holsters and ready hands were evident among the six beasts who hovered around Dave, Pratt, whoever he was today. Even Sherry noticed the weapons and had a grip on a composite-blade machete tucked in behind her bra. Her body language said she was relaxed, but her eyes said someone could die soon. Phil just stood up, tall and lean, with his hands in his jacket pockets. He was probably fingering one of the small lasguns and probably a crushable bi-chemical explosive they’d made. His smile was creepy.
“Oh, I’m fine. Thank you. I’d like to hire your ship and crew to take us on a trip.” He smiled. Then added, “Quietly.”
“You’ll have to check with the captain. She’s in charge, not us. We were just a makeshift crew until we got to Indera Prime Station for work,” Sherry answered. “But if you have the creds?”
“Well, I’m willing to pay rather handsomely for a trip that should only take a week. Three days out, one day for business, then three days back.” He handed Jack a data chip.
“We’ll see.” Jack scanned it, and the money was considerable. “Let me check with the boss.” Jack flicked his comm to Rosia’s open frequency and called, “Captain, Jack here.”
“What’s up?”
“Dave wants to hire us for a side trip. Week tops. Lot of creds. Sending the data now.” He transmitted the chip data.
“Looks good. Could use the extra creds. I’ll pay you each double shares if you stick around. Got those supplies I asked for?” Rosia asked about the supplies to confirm it was legit. Another layer of Saully security.
“Yep. Everything we asked for.” Jack was telling the truth, of course. “There’ll be seven passengers. We’ll have to pick up extra foodstuffs.”
“No need. We have all the supplies and then some for the trip. Including crew necessities, as well.” Dave handed Jack another chip. “That first chip was a down payment, for insurance purposes, of course. I’ve put a rough schedule on this chip so you can plan, and paid half for now, and the other half when we get back. We plan to leave in the morning at 0900, if that’s fine with you?”
“Sure. See you on the ship.” Jack watched the group shift, surround Dave, and escort him away to the lifts.
“Well, shit. Did we just make a deal with the Devil?” Phil said, to no one in particular.
“Keep your friends close,” Jack said.
“And your enemies closer,” Sherry replied.
Chapter 8
Gruilla Military Station, Day 3, Merlin’s Ghost, 0857 hrs
With the entire night to prepare, everyone was a little tired, but ready by morning. The crew knew what was expected; the ship was spotless, organized, and no one would suspect a thing out of the ordinary. The acceptance of the job was a non-issue. Besides, it was easy credits. A boatload of easy credits, and with the bonus of possibly killing Pratt. Jack had also informed everyone about Donna’s death and t
he still-living, but untraceable for now, Dominic Cray. So far, the trip’s only plus was the credits and Pratt’s presence.
It was agreed they’d make the trip to the location marked in the itinerary, which was a small helium-3 mining facility just a few days fold away. It had a decent station and a respectable set of quarters for the employees. The only hab area was on the mining station’s dark side, but hey, you couldn’t be picky when it was the only game in town.
Dave arrived on time with his entourage of bodyguards. This was a different group altogether. Three men, two women. Smaller in number and size than the first group, but these seemed more capable. Not as stocky or cocky, and definitely more refined. The group was given Rosia’s briefing on safety and how things were run. They were familiar enough with the ship’s design to know where their cabins were, so no hand-holding was needed.
Saully kept an eye on the ship’s systems and the comms, with Rosia’s help. Sherry and Tito kept busy with maintenance around the ship, at least enough to make sure the group didn’t wander around too much. Jack and Phil kept busy with the kitchen duties and supply. Rosia, of course, kept them flying. The run up to fold was seamless, and after transition the first meal of the trip was lunch. Phil outdid himself with the food their guests had supplied. Roast beef in gravy, potatoes au gratin, steamed veggies in a garlic butter sauce, fresh baked bread, and pumpkin pie for desert. At least they wouldn’t get bored on ration packs and dried fruit.
Several hours after the first transition, while the system built up for the next fold, the games began. Rosia’s built-in network security discovered a “Test Bore” program AI. Saully took notice and started capturing everything it was doing, and specifically, what it was not doing. In the meantime, he started looking for other indicators that the system was being hacked and cracked. It didn’t take long before he saw a pattern. Their guests were being subtle, sneaky, very smart, and knew exactly what they were doing. Except he was better at it.