Labyrinth of Night

by Allen Steele

  Boggs straightened and, with scarcely a look back at her, tromped through the passageway toward the gondola, ignoring Verduin’s laughter and Kawakami’s diplomatic cough into his hand. ‘After all these years, the same bitching and whining,’ he grumbled. ‘Okay, Nash…I mean, Andy…get out there and untie us. We’re outta here in five minutes.’

  He glanced back once before he stepped down the gangway. ‘We’ve got a rendezvous to keep with the head dude, if y’know what I mean.’

  15. Blown

  RIGGING THE OPPOSITION for electronic surveillance is a fairly routine part of the espionage trade. If telephones are to be miked, then all it takes is a few minutes to plant infinity bugs or induction taps, thereby transforming the phones themselves into eavesdropping devices even when they are on the hook. Concealing electret mikes, such as the ones supplied to Nash for this assignment, under or inside furniture, is mainly a matter of penetrating the target area and having a few unobserved moments to do the dirty work. This can be accomplished by posing as a repairman, bribing a custodian or watchman, or (in the worst case) breaking and entering.

  In his career as a private spy, Nash had done all of the above at one time or another, to listen in on everyone from corporate research assistants to multinational CEOs to the crown prince of a certain Middle Eastern sheikdom. Yet bugging Cydonia Base was much more difficult than miking a home or office on Earth. Not counting Module Eleven—the Ambient Environment Lab, which was permanently unpressurised and thereby unbuggable by the voice-activated electret mikes—there were ten modules in the habitat, evenly arranged along a central access tunnel, including Module One, the main airlock and vehicle garage, located on the opposite side of the habitat from the Module Ten auxiliary airlock and the AEL.

  Module One was a principal target; the payload which had been dropped from orbit was stored in the base garage, and Nash supposed that the garage would be depressurized when secret work was being done in there, if only for the convenience of working in a shirtsleeve environment. In view of what Kawakami had told him about its being sealed off by L’Enfant, however, it was unlikely that Nash would be able to get into the main airlock from inside the habitat. He was forced to improvise.

  After the arrival of the Akron at the base, where they were met by L’Enfant’s three ‘observers,’ Lieutenant Akers escorted Nash, Sasaki, Verduin and Kawakami from the landing pad to the habitat; Marks and Swigart, who had made their first appearance at the pad, stayed behind to shepherd Boggs and unload the remaining cargo from the airship. Like a guard marching prisoners into a POW compound, Akers strode behind the four of them as they walked toward the habitat. Just before they reached the auxiliary airlock, Nash contrived to pause by a rover which was parked nearby. After dropping his duffel bag on the vehicle’s seat and while pretending to adjust the boot lining on his skinsuit’s outergarment, he furtively slid one of the wireless mikes under the chassis.

  There were fresh tire-tracks leading to and from Module One’s large double-doors. With any luck, the rover would be moved inside before nightfall as standard procedure; barring misfortune, the bug’s adhesive backing would not be scoured by the dust and the tiny mike would not drop into the sand, where it would not only be useless but also a possible giveaway. It was risky, but it was the best he could manage. It was important that he had a way of knowing what was going on in Module One.

  Unforeseen good fortune, though, came a couple of minutes later when they reached the auxiliary airlock. Despite its label, Module Ten was not a full-sized Skycorp Type-B module, but rather a small geodesic dome not much larger than the Akron’s airlock. It had been intended mainly as an interconnect between the AEL and the rest of the habitat, and therefore could only accommodate two persons at a time. Once they had arrived at the auxiliary airlock, Akers unwittingly made a miscalculation: he allowed Sasaki and Nash to enter the airlock by themselves, leaving him outside with Kawakami and Verduin.

  As soon as the airlock was sealed and the repressurization sequence initiated, Nash carefully examined the ceiling and walls. No TV cameras were visible, but since he was still using an open comlink frequency, he dared not say anything conspicuous. Even after recompression, when their helmets would be off, there was no guarantee that the airlock itself wasn’t bugged; Kawakami had already cautioned them to that effect.

  ‘How long does this usually take?’ he casually asked Sasaki.

  She glanced at him through her helmet faceplate. ‘About five minutes, including decontamination.’ Her eyes followed him as Nash quickly opened his right thigh pocket. ‘It will be hard for us to talk once the electromagnetic scrub begins. We better talk now.’

  Nash winced. Not good; if someone was indeed listening to them over the comlink, then that remark could arouse suspicion. He scowled at her and shook his head. ‘Look, Miho, I didn’t mean to get…y’know, frisky last night, but it’s been a long time since I’ve had anything.’

  Her eyes widened in shocked surprise, but his words were not so startling as the sight of the pistol he pulled from his right thigh pocket and carefully placed on the gridded floor between his feet. ‘Maybe you were right for slapping me,’ he continued, giving her a wink and a grin, ‘but I hope that it doesn’t mean that we can’t still be friends.’

  She nodded quickly; she comprehended the double-talk. ‘Sure. I understand.’ Already static was breaking up her voice; red dust rose around them as electromagnetic scrubbers began to whisk their suits clean, the dirt falling into vents beneath the gridwork. ‘But if you need to talk about it, I can…’

  The rest was lost in electronic fuzz-out. Nash unzipped his left thigh pocket and pulled out the rest of the electret mikes. He switched off the comlink and signaled her to do the same, then he grabbed her right hand and carefully dropped half of them into her palm. At the same time, he leaned forward and firmly touched the faceplate of his helmet to hers. ‘Bugs!’ he said loudly. ‘Put these wherever you can!’

  It took three attempts for him to get the message across to her; touching helmets as a means of communication was not everything that popular fiction claimed it to be. Once she got the idea, though, Sasaki nodded her head and transferred the bugs into her pocket.

  A couple of minutes later the green light above the inside door flashed on, signaling that the airlock was depressurized. Without speaking to each other, they began zipping out of their skinsuits, stowing the helmets, the overgarments and the Mylar pressure-suits in the recessed lockers. Aboard the Akron they had given each other exclusive use of the airlock for suit-up, but in this situation such privacy was out of the question. It was the first time during the long journey that Nash had the opportunity to observe Miho undressed; for the few moments in which she was wearing only a bikini bra and panties, he had a chance to regret the vow of celibacy he had made to her. Sasaki glanced at him, blushed deeply, then turned her back to him as she removed a standard-issue cotton jumpsuit from her locker. Nash deliberately closed his mind to Sasaki; this wasn’t the time or the place.

  He quickly tucked the SIG/Sauer into the calf-holster above his right ankle, then climbed into his own jumpsuit, carefully pulling the elastic cuff over the holster to conceal the gun. As he stood up, he caught a glimpse of Miho pulling a small flat plastic case out of her skinsuit’s cargo pocket and shoving it into a thigh pocket of her jumpsuit. It seemed to be an electronic device of some sort. She looked at him, noticed his inquisitive expression, and gave a serious nod of her head as she zipped up the front of her suit.

  This woman apparently had a few secret tricks of her own; somehow, Nash was not surprised. He was already getting used to the notion that Sasaki was a partner in this operation. Were it not for the possibility that the airlock could be miked, he might have said something to that effect.

  They quickly transferred the electret mikes into their breast pockets; Nash was careful to keep his pocket unflapped and hand-signaled Sasaki to do the same. They picked up their duffel bags and took a moment to give each other the
once-over, making certain that everything was well-hidden.

  ‘Ready?’ he asked. She nodded nervously, then Nash grabbed the latch and twisted it upward. There was a slight hiss of air and their ears popped; Nash pushed the heavy airlock hatch open.

  Together, they stepped into Cydonia Base.

  The access corridor was deserted; from where they stood they could see that all the module hatches were shut. A swift glance down the long tunnel didn’t reveal any TV cameras, although that still didn’t rule out bugging devices. They had the base to themselves for at least five minutes until the next two people cycled through the airlock—ten minutes, if they allowed for desuiting.

  Yet L’Enfant himself was still unaccounted for; they had not seen him since their arrival at the base. Kawakami had told them that someone was always on duty in the command center; Nash had to guess that he was in Module Two, at the opposite end of the corridor. Ten minutes wasn’t much time, but by planting as many bugs as possible in the modules before the next group came into the base, they might be able to steal an advantage.

  ‘Which way?’ he asked, keeping his tone casual for the benefit of any listening devices in the corridor.

  ‘Down here,’ Sasaki said. ‘I’ll show you to our quarters.’ She stepped around him and began carrying her duffel bag down the corridor, passing the first two hatches: Modules Eight and Nine, respectively marked Monitor Center and Lab A. He wanted to stop to conceal mikes in both of them, but she strode ahead of him before he could stop her, walking to the next two modules in the row.

  The hatch to Module Six, on the right, was unlocked; she pushed it open and brazenly stepped inside. He followed her through the door, scanning the compartment. Four bunks, each with their sheets and blankets neatly tucked in to military-regulation precision, spare sneakers standing in orderly rows next to the lockers, the walls unadorned with any posters or snapshots. One bunk near the rear had a makeshift curtain around it.

  ‘Wrong one, I think,’ she said softly as she jabbed a finger toward the nearest bunk.

  Nash understood immediately. Sasaki had led him to the bunk-house used by L’Enfant and his aides. He quickly knelt next to the bunk; while she watched the door, he pulled an electret mike out of his pocket and pasted it underneath the edge of the bunk, safely out of both sight and of easy reach of exploring hands. A tap of his index finger against the bug’s side activated it; the mike was now good for the next seventy-two hours, so long as regular voice-vibrations recharged its friction battery.

  So far, so good. Nash stood up again and followed Miho out of the module.

  Directly across the corridor was Module Seven; Sasaki pushed open the hatch and led him into it. As much as Module Six was spotless and pin-neat, this bunkhouse was in disarray: the two bunks at the front were carelessly made, stray bits of clothing lay on the floor, posters of Earth scenes and snapshots of unfamiliar people were taped to the walls. Two bunks at the end of the module were unsheeted.

  ‘That’s yours,’ she said, pointing to the bare mattress on the left. ‘Paul and Shin-ichi use the other beds. I suppose Waylon gets the one on the right. I’ll be with Tamara, at the other end of the corridor.’ She made a hasty motion with her hand, gesturing to the hatch; Nash dropped his duffel bag on the floor next to his bunk. ‘This is getting heavy,’ she added.

  ‘Need some help?’ he asked. He glanced at his watch. They had a minimum of two and a half minutes left before the airlock recycled. Maybe more, but he wasn’t going to count on it. Maybe he could make it back to the lab or the monitor center…

  ‘Yes. Thanks.’ Sasaki unshouldered her bag and handed it to him, then they exited from the bunkhouse and walked further down the corridor. The wardroom was in Module Four, on the right, but Miho pushed open the hatch to Module Five. Tamara Isralilova’s immaculate bunk was obviously the only one occupied in the compartment; Lieutenant Swigart apparently had no compunction about sharing Module Six with three men. Nash remembered the curtained bunk in Module Six and smiled. Military field discipline.

  Sasaki motioned for Nash to drop her duffel bag on the opposite bunk, then said loudly, ‘Let me show you the wardroom.’ Before Nash could reply, she bent close to him and urgently whispered in his ear: ‘Follow me to the main airlock! Quick, we don’t have much time!’

  She started to head out of the module, but Nash grabbed her forearm and yanked her back; she winced from his tight grasp and began to struggle. ‘No, dammit!’ he hissed. ‘We can’t do it in time…and how do you expect to get in there, anyway?’

  Sasaki angrily pulled her arm out of his hand. ‘Keycard decoder,’ she whispered. ‘Hurry, while we’ve got the chance!’

  A keycard decoder: now Nash understood the purpose of the small plastic case he had glimpsed in the airlock. It was an electronic skeleton key which could be slipped into a keycard slot to decipher the code-sequence and unlock any given door. A rather sophisticated piece of spy technology; JETRO must have anticipated a few difficulties and equipped her with one in advance. He only wished SA’s armory had had the same forethought.

  It was tempting, yet…‘We’re flat out of time,’ he whispered. ‘Look, even if we can get the hatch open before someone cycles through Module Ten, we’re not going to be able to do much before…’

  They heard footsteps in the corridor, just beyond the open hatch.

  Without thinking twice, Nash grabbed Sasaki by the waist, hauled her toward him, and planted his lips on hers. For a second she squirmed against his rough embrace, making him feel like a rapist, before her intelligence won out over her instincts. She slid her arms around his neck and reluctantly surrendered herself; for a moment he actually began to enjoy her kiss before someone outside the doorway cleared his throat.

  ‘If you’re going to do this in my base,’ Terrance L’Enfant said softly, ‘you might have the common decency to close the hatch first.’

  Nash quickly looked up, pretending to be startled, as Sasaki uncurled her arms from his neck; she didn’t have to pretend her embarrassment. L’Enfant stood in the corridor with his hands clasped behind his back, a vaguely bemused smile on his lean face. He wore a khaki jumpsuit, identical to theirs except for the pair of captain’s bars which were pinned to each collar. L’Enfant studied them both with unblinking eyes, and Nash realized that he was waiting for them to speak.

  ‘Sorry, Commander,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid we…uh, got a little carried away there.’ He could feel Sasaki trembling in his arms. ‘The next time we’ll…’

  The smile faded from L’Enfant’s face; he closed his eyes briefly and shook his head. ‘Not here, no, there won’t be a next time, Mr Donaldson. We’ve had to made several sacrifices of personal liberty to get our work done, and this is one of them.’

  He paused for a moment. ‘You are both visitors here for the next couple of days,’ he continued in a condescending tone, ‘so I expect you to restrain your sexual impulses until you’ve left this base.’ He looked directly at Miho. ‘I also expect you to keep your boyfriend out of the female quarters, Dr. Sasaki,’ he said stiffly. ‘I think Ms. Isralilova would appreciate the courtesy. This isn’t a college dorm. We don’t have any doorknobs for you to hang a towel upon.’

  He glanced at Nash again and added to her, ‘But if you had to find someone to have a fling with, you could have done better than choosing some blimp jockey. Sleeping with him won’t advance your sterling career, hmm?’

  The redness in Sasaki’s face was now more from repressed anger than embarrassment. She stepped back out of Nash’s arms and looked down at the floor, silently nodding her head once. L’Enfant hadn’t realized how much of a verbal knife he had shoved into her with that last offhand remark; Nash admired her self-possession for not lashing back at him. Yet, more immediately, he recognized that his suspicions had been correct; judging from L’Enfant’s choice of words, he must have been party to their fabricated conversation in the auxiliary airlock. Kawakami was right—the entire base was bugged, with the primary listening po
st being the command module.

  From the far end of the corridor, they heard the clank and hiss of the Module Ten airlock opening again. L’Enfant glanced in that direction, then looked back at Nash. He unexpectedly smiled and crooked a finger at him.

  ‘Now, Mr Donaldson, if you’ll come this way, I have something to show you.’ His voice had lightened almost to the point of breeziness. ‘You might find it interesting. And Dr. Sasaki…I have a small task for you.’

  Kawakami and Verduin were the next two persons to cycle through the auxiliary airlock; they stood hesitantly at the opposite end of the corridor, quietly watching as L’Enfant led Nash and Sasaki out of Module Five. L’Enfant casually waved to them before turning to face Sasaki. ‘I’m sure you’ll want more time to become reacquainted with them,’ he said, ‘so why don’t you escort them into the wardroom for lunch? Mr Donaldson and I will be joining you shortly.’

  At that moment, the Module One hatch opened behind them and Charlie Akers and Megan Swigart entered the habitat; Nash noticed that they both wore single-bar insignia pins on the collars of their jumpsuits. They didn’t salute nor did they snap to attention when they saw the commander, yet their martial deference to L’Enfant was obvious nonetheless.

  L’Enfant nodded to them as Akers closed the hatch. ‘Mr Marks has Mr Boggs well in hand, I assume?’

  ‘Yes sir,’ Swigart replied crisply. ‘They’re unloading the Akron now and they’ll be in as soon as the job’s finished.’

  ‘Very good.’ L’Enfant stepped aside, extending a gracious hand toward Miho. ‘You may join Dr. Sasaki for lunch with Shin-ichi and Paul. They’ll probably welcome your company.’ His tone was polite, yet his words left no room for refusal by anyone, least of all Miho. As Swigart walked past him, L’Enfant added, ‘And set an extra place for Tamara, she’ll be joining you soon.’

  He then turned to Akers; the lieutenant was wiping sweat off his balding pate, but snapped into parade rest as L’Enfant faced him. ‘Charlie, if you’ll come with me and Mr Donaldson into the command center, we can finish the rest of our business.’