by Piers Platt
This is your last trip to this creep-show, she reassured herself. And you don’t have to drink anything this time.
She waited patiently, following Turpin’s lead as the ceremony progressed. The priest read from Simi Quorn’s teachings and welcomed more new recruits. After he barked his sermon at them, the acolytes filled the trough with lifewater from the ceremonial well. Dasi stood and followed Turpin down the center aisle toward the altar. He paid with his holophone, for both of them, and then they climbed the short steps to the altar.
Okay, here we go.
Dasi had practiced removing the vial from her dress a hundred times over the last day, but she could feel her fingers trembling with anxiety. As she knelt, she dipped two fingers into the pocket, pulled out the vial, and palmed it, removing the rubber stopper at the top.
So far, so good.
As Turpin stooped to drink beside her, Dasi bent over the lifewater and dunked both hands into the cold stream, submerging the vial. Then she brought the water to her lips, using her thumb to push the stopper back into place, and seal the vial. Movement caught her eye: an acolyte near the well was touching his ear, frowning. Her enhanced cybernetic vision allowed her to see that he was wearing an ear-piece: some kind of radio. He locked eyes with her, scowling, and then started toward her, moving fast.
Uh oh. Dasi let the remaining lifewater spill back into the trough, closing her fist around the vial. She stood up hurriedly.
>>>There are surveillance cameras above the altar, Six noted. I believe they have observed you obtaining the sample.
“Show me your hands,” the acolyte demanded.
“What? Why?” she asked. Turpin turned to look up at her, fear and concern on his face.
“Show me your hands!” the acolyte yelled, reaching for her.
Dasi dodged his grasp and jumped backward, nearly tripping on the velvet cushions at her feet. The acolyte grabbed for her again, clumsily, but he was on the opposite side of the trough, and could not reach her. Dasi saw more acolytes heading her way, and the priest, as well. She glanced back to see most of the congregation watching her, and several ushers closing in on her, too.
>>>There is a door to the left of the altar, set into the wall. You will have to get past the acolyte in front of you.
Dasi turned and vaulted over the trough, closing with the closest acolyte. He was surprised enough by her sudden reversal that he took a step backward, but then recovered and made as if to wrap his arms around her. Dasi took him by the shoulders and brought her knee up swiftly into his groin. He crumpled with a pained groan, and Dasi dashed across to the door, yanking it open.
She heard shouts behind her back in the sanctuary as she shut the door, but there was no one in the corridor when she turned.
>>>Lock the door, Six urged her.
Dasi did so, and a second later, she saw the handle turn, but the door did not budge. Someone pounded angrily on the door from the far side.
Gotta get out of here, Six.
>>>I am attempting to locate a building blueprint.
Dasi glanced down at the sample vial in her hand, ensuring it was still stoppered. I need to hide this. She reached for the hidden pocket on her dress, then stopped, remembering her Academy classes on searching perpetrators for hidden items. Thinking quickly, she hiked her dress up, winced for a second, and then it was done. She heard a key in the lock behind her, and jogged down the corridor, stopping at the end.
>>>Left for the main exit, Six said.
The main exit? With the armed guards? Dasi asked, sprinting down the hall.
>>>Yes. Trust me.
She emerged into the main entrance hall, and saw two guards blocking the exit, auto-pistols in hand. Behind them, the thick metal portcullis had been lowered, blocking the entrance. An acolyte burst through the curtain from the sanctuary hall behind her a moment later. The guards raised their pistols.
Six?
>>>I have nearly cracked their local network’s encryption.
Dasi raised her hands.
“I don’t have anything,” she told the guards as they approached. One of them pushed her face-first against the stone wall of the entrance, and then pawed at her, frisking her thoroughly. He turned and looked at the nearest acolyte.
“Nothing.”
“What did you do with it?” the acolyte asked her, red-faced and sweating.
“With what?” Dasi asked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. That other acolyte attacked me for no reason, so I panicked and ran out. I’m sorry.”
Down the hall, she saw Turpin emerge from the curtains, held between two acolytes. The priest followed them out.
“Do you have it?” the priest demanded.
“No, sir,” the first acolyte replied. “She must have dropped it.”
“What has your woman done?” the priest demanded of Turpin.
“I don’t know,” he sobbed. “Honestly! We just started dating a couple days ago, I barely know her.”
The priest turned to Dasi, studying her. “Who do you work for?”
“Nobody,” Dasi said.
“We’ll see,” the priest replied. He turned to the guards. “Put them in one of the empty acolyte cells. I’ll deal with them when the ceremony is over.” The guard turned Dasi around, holding her by the elbow.
Six!
>>>Be prepared to run in three … two … one …
The room went quiet, and Dasi realized that Six had muted her cybernetic ears. In the same instant, the NeoPuritans around her screamed in silent anguish, clawing at their radio ear-pieces.
>>>I am broadcasting a high-pitched signal to their communication devices at maximum volume. Go, now!
Dasi tore free of the guard at her side, grabbed Turpin’s hand, and dashed for the entrance, pulling him along behind her. Ahead down the hall, the great portcullis was rising smoothly upward, and Dasi could see the open plaza beyond. She ducked under the grate, and was free. A quick glance behind her showed that Six was lowering the portcullis again behind them, cutting off any potential pursuit. Dasi broke into a run, heading down the street for the nearest monorail station, still yanking Turpin along beside her.
“Where are we going?” he asked after a moment, still in shock from the events inside the church.
“The train station.”
Turpin pulled his arm away from Dasi, stopping in his tracks. “What? No. I need to go back.”
“We need to get out of here,” Dasi told him. “They think I stole lifewater from them.”
“You did what?” he asked her, suddenly aghast. “By Simi, I’ll be banned for life!”
“In a few weeks, when all this goes public, you’ll be thanking me,” she assured him, turning to continue down the street.
“What are you talking about?” Turpin demanded, following her. His face was screwed up with rage. “Answer me, you bitch! You’ve ruined my life!”
He lunged forward, grabbing her by the shoulder. Dasi reacted instinctively, grasping his wrist and twisting it with a jerk, bringing the taller man to his knees in front of her, his arm immobilized in a vice-like hold.
“Ahh!” Turpin yelled, wincing in pain.
“Don’t … ever … touch me,” Dasi said, standing over him. “You’re going to go home. Stay away from the Church. And start treating women with some respect, or I’ll come find you and kick your ass myself. Clear?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Yes, what?” she asked, one eyebrow arched.
“Yes … ma’am?”
Dasi released him, and turned her back on him. She could see him still kneeling in the street, rubbing his sore arm, as she made her way up the stairs to the monorail platform. She boarded the train a minute later, and sent a message to Hawken via her neural interface.
Can’t come to the apartment, my cover is definitely blown now. Meet you back at the office.
p.s. – I got it.
18
Beauceron ducked down, taking cover beneath a large bush with grey-gr
een leaves. Atalia joined him, and a second later, the rumbling they had heard in the distance revealed itself as two large tanks, tracks spinning as they sped along the forest trail. Beauceron held his breath as a Jokuan soldier in the turret of the lead vehicle looked in their direction, but the vehicles continued on without stopping.
“Awful lot of military activity out here,” Atalia commented.
“Especially for a planet that’s supposedly at peace,” Beauceron said.
Atalia rolled onto her side, looking at Beauceron appraisingly. “You look good in camouflage,” she told him.
“I don’t think we should stay out here much longer,” Beauceron said, by way of reply.
“Yeah, I’m starting to agree with you,” Atalia said, turning serious. “We’ve had too many close calls. Starting to feel like our luck is going to run out if we push it much farther.”
She looked both ways down the forest trail, and then crawled forward. She stood up slowly, then turned and helped Beauceron to his feet. “But this is the last numbered area on Paisen’s map. We’ve nearly covered it – let’s make a sweep through and then bust out of here.”
“A quick sweep,” Beauceron said. “I think even if the contractors are out here, we’d be lucky to spot them. I suspect their training was fairly thorough in terms of how to hide in the woods.”
“Fieldcraft,” Atalia corrected him. “Cover and concealment, it’s called. But, yeah – I’m sure they’re good at it.” She checked the map on her holophone quickly. “Let’s stay away from that airfield to our left, and skirt the wood line over that way.”
Beauceron followed as she jogged across the trail, and they disappeared into the woods on the far side. They covered another half mile before the trees began to thin out – Atalia dropped to a knee next to a tree trunk, and pulled out her binoculars.
“We’re getting a bit exposed here,” she said, scanning the forest ahead.
“Yes,” Beauceron said, catching his breath. Through the trees, he saw the sun dipping toward the horizon. “It’ll be dark soon.”
Atalia passed him the binoculars. “Some kind of military vehicle parked ahead, tell me what you think.”
Beauceron took them wordlessly, and then focused in on the distant object. “An off-road vehicle,” he said. “I don’t see anyone nearby, but there could be passengers inside.”
“It’s not moving,” Atalia said. “Look at the left rear wheel.”
“Ah, it’s disabled,” Beauceron said. “The wheel looks damaged. You think it was abandoned?”
“Maybe,” Atalia said, taking the binoculars back. She pointed them at the jeep again, surveying it, and then sucked in air through her teeth. “There’s a body.”
The two detectives drew their service weapons, and covered the last few hundred yards to the truck in silence. As they neared the truck, they crossed several other sets of wheel tracks. Atalia pointed to them wordlessly, and Beauceron nodded. The truck appeared abandoned, with the driver’s door ajar. Atalia covered Beauceron while he approached the vehicle from the rear, and then peered inside. He shook his head, and they walked over to the body.
“Bullet holes all over the back of the truck,” Beauceron noted, keeping his voice low. “I bet we’d find a few bullets in that blown tire if we looked.”
Atalia nodded, kneeling by the body. “Vehicle pursuit, ends with a shootout?”
“Mm-hm,” Beauceron agreed. He searched the ground near the body. “But no sign of a weapon near the victim.”
“Maybe they took it,” Atalia said. “Male, mid-twenties, in good physical condition. A deserter from the Jokuan army?”
Beauceron searched the man’s pockets, then carefully unbuttoned his shirt. “Could be. No wallet, no ID, no dog tags.”
Atalia caught sight of something, and lifted up the man’s arm, pulling the sleeve back. “He’s got some kind of bracelet.”
Beauceron raised an eyebrow. “That’s not just any bracelet,” he said. “That’s a Guild counter bracelet.” The detective reached across the body and touched the button on the bracelet, and a spinning golden 11 appeared in the air. “This is a guildsman.”
Atalia watched as the holographic symbol disappeared. She set the arm back down. “They toss Paisen’s safe house, and then chase down one of her buddies out in the woods, and kill him. What the hell is going on here, Martin?”
“I don’t know.”
“None of this is making any sense,” she pointed out, standing up. “Paisen brings a team of guildsmen here. They split up and start hanging out in the woods. Apparently the locals don’t take too kindly to them. Meanwhile someone – Paisen or back-from-the-dead Ricken – busts Rath out of jail on Scapa. With a doomsday device installed on an ancient ship …” She broke off, and they both looked up at the darkening sky, hearing the roar of deep-space engines. A massive black craft passed overhead, flying toward the nearby landing zone. It disappeared behind the trees a moment later.
The two detectives stared at each other, stunned.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Atalia said. “That was the Rampart Guardian.”
19
The cabin’s intercom warbled insistently, waking Rath. He rubbed at his eyes, then reached across Jaymy’s sleeping form and touched the intercom’s Answer button.
“Yeah,” he said. Jaymy rolled over, her eyes fluttering open, and Rath smiled at her.
“It’s Lonergan,” the intercom announced. “We’re arriving in an hour. Anders would like you two on the bridge in thirty.”
“Got it,” Rath said. “Thanks.” He shut the intercom back off.
“Where are we landing?” Jaymy asked, sitting up.
Rath stood and started pulling on a jump-suit Ricken’s crew had given him. “I’m not sure,” he replied.
“Not Tarkis, right?”
“No, not yet,” Rath agreed.
Jaymy dressed, and then followed Rath through the Rampart Guardian’s crew quarters, taking a narrow flight of stairs up two levels. Rath nodded at the two guards stationed outside the hatch to the bridge – one of them was the woman who had rescued him in the van, back on Scapa.
“Hey,” he said, awkwardly.
“Sir,” she replied, nodding.
“Thanks for the help, back on Scapa,” Rath said.
“Just doing my job, sir.”
“Okay,” Rath said. “Well, thanks anyway.”
The large hatch swung open, and Rath and Jaymy stepped through to the bridge. Ricken and Lonergan sat in two of the command chairs at the center of the room, while half a dozen crew members manned various stations below them. At the front of the bridge, a large viewscreen showed their progress on a map, with a countdown timer displaying their estimated arrival time.
“Where did they get people to crew this ship, while Ricken and his lieutenants were in cryosleep?” Jaymy wondered out loud.
Rath shrugged. “Mercenaries,” he guessed. “Well paid ones. I imagine they’ve had to recruit several different crews over the years. This is just the latest batch.”
Ricken and Lonergan broke off their conversation, and Ricken gestured to Rath and Jaymy to join them.
“Take a seat,” he said, pointing at a pair of swivel chairs next to him. “Rath, are you comfortable playing security for us at our next stop?”
“Sure,” Rath said. “Where are we going?”
“A planet in the Territories,” Ricken told him. “We simply don’t have the resources to insert drones simultaneously into every major star system in the Federacy – that would take us months. We need a fleet to do it for us.”
“So you’re buying one?” Rath guessed.
“Renting one,” Ricken corrected him. “And it will use up the very last of our funds. I’m not a big fan of relying on a third party to do this, especially given the sensitivity of the cargo they’ll be delivering, but I’ve been assured that they won’t be able to steal our drones.”
“They won’t know what they’re transporting,” Lonerg
an reminded Ricken. “And the control link to all the drones is encrypted – they’ll only respond to the command ship.”
“It still bothers me,” Ricken said. “But I don’t think there’s any other way.” He turned to Rath. “When we arrive, we have a meeting planet-side with the fleet’s commanding officer to hammer out the final details. We’ll give him a down-payment, along with the depot locations where the drones are stored, for his fleet to make pickups. Then they’ll proceed to individual planets in the Federacy, and drop the drones into orbit. He’s going to review the sequencing plan with us today – I want to make sure those drones are all delivered nearly simultaneously.”
“Okay,” Rath said. “Sounds simple enough. You sure you need me?”
“I don’t anticipate any trouble,” Ricken said. “But I’d like you by my side if anything goes amiss. This planet’s military is a bit over-zealous, by all accounts.”
“You better stay on board the Guardian,” Rath told Jaymy.
She shook her head. “No. I’m staying by you.”
“Jaymy, if something goes wrong—” Rath began.
“I want to be near you,” she interrupted, taking his hand in hers.
Rath sighed, but decided to drop it. “What did you say the planet was called?” he asked Ricken.
A proximity warning flashed on the viewscreen, and the four of them looked up.
“Jokuan,” Ricken said, absentmindedly. “It looks like we’ve just arrived.”
“Fuck me,” Rath said.
“What? You know it?” Lonergan asked.
“Yeah,” Rath said. “Unfortunately. Anders, is there no other fleet you could contract with?”
“Why?” Ricken asked him, frowning.
“I don’t like these guys,” Rath said. “Unless things have changed radically in the past few years, they’re a bunch of posturing assholes in uniform, with more bravado than sense. I don’t think you can trust them.”