Mirage

Home > Other > Mirage > Page 16
Mirage Page 16

by Mark W. Tiedemann


  Mia pressed the contact on the remote, shutting off the subetheric. After going from one newsnet to another in between other tasks she felt nervous and edgy. None of the news reassured her, almost all of it had raised more questions, and she should have stopped listening. She especially should not have watched this ‘cast.

  Dal Kammer, one of the top-rated newscasters on subetheric, implying that Mia and her teammates had been involved in the conspiracy to kill Eliton and Humadros, made her cringe. If it had been any of a dozen other newsnet people she might have shrugged it off--there was more detritus on the subetheric than legitimate data--but Kammer was prominent, reputable. That did not mean he would not twist, color, alter, or fabricate his facts. But it meant that to get him to do so was expensive.

  Or he was being led to believe the reports...

  Mia lay her head back against the pillow. The medical robot had left over six hours ago, giving her a pain blocker along with a tissue accelerant and instructions to move around as little as possible until its next visit. She wondered if squirming counted.

  Her datum lay on the table beside her. She had spent most of the day sending queries through Ariel’s com system, using a pair of alternate electronic personas working in tandem, so if any back traces were attempted they would lead into blind alleys, to see if any of her passwords worked anywhere. Nothing. The Service had shut her out of everything, which puzzled her. If they thought she was dead, why be so thorough so fast in blocking her access? Unless they really did think she had been part of a conspiracy. Then it made sense--they would suspect someone else possessed her codes.

  A few names appeared on the small screen, possible contacts she might yet be able to trust: a newsnet reporter named Holis, her old instructor at the academy, and Coren Lanra, the ex-Service agent she had seen at the gallery, now working for DyNan Manual Industries. Holis would help her in return for an exclusive, which meant that she needed something with which to bargain. So far, except for the fact that she was alive, she had nothing solid. She was uncertain how much trouble she might cause for her old instructor. As for Lanra, she did not know where he stood, except that he had no loyalty anymore to the Service. She had contacted none of them.

  What had gone wrong?

  Mia glanced over at Bogard, standing against the wall between where she lay and the door, still and solemn. Two hours ago, after its own datum search, it had reported on the type of weapon used at Union Station. No direct match, but it bore similarity to a twenty-first century Staros, nine-millimeter automatic. Modifications had been made, altering them enough to call a direct match into question. But that meant they had probably been manufactured exclusively for this strike, which reinforced Mia’s opinion that Kynig Parapoyos had provided them.

  The other name on her screen tended to confirm that. Bok Vin Golner. It was the likeliest match she had come up with from the name Bok, given the other parameters she had attached to the search. Retired Terran military, Captain, a veteran of two campaigns, including the Ganymede Suppression, and, since leaving the army, an irregularly employed security specialist. He had been arrested once for civic disturbance during a Terran First rally and another time for trafficking in unlicensed merchandise, black market. In both instances he had been represented by a lawyer he could not reasonably afford and the charges had been dropped. He was listed as an affiliate to a couple of anti-Spacer groups.

  If you want to set up a military assault, Mia thought, use someone who knows how and can follow through...

  Bogard shifted the three meters to the door. Mia blinked. A few seconds later, R. Jennie trundled into the room, but stopped upon seeing Bogard blocking the entrance.

  “Avernus in Perihelion,” came Ariel’s voice over the intercom.

  “Accepted,” Bogard announced and opened the door.

  Ariel stepped past the robot with a wary look, followed by a man Mia did not know. Only slightly taller than Ariel, he wore his pale hair short, and a black jacket over a dark blue one-piece.

  “Hello, Bogard,” he said, his expression openly surprised.

  “Hello, Derec,” the robot replied. “It is good to see you, again.”

  Derec gave Ariel a skeptical look. “Avernus in Perihelion?”

  “Would anyone you know guess that as a password?” Ariel asked.

  Derec shook his head. “No, I suppose not.” He looked at Bogard again. “Don’t take this wrong, Bogard, but I thought you were dead.”

  “No, sir,” Bogard said. “Although your misapprehension is understandable.”

  “Welcome home, Ariel,” R. Jennie said, accepting Ariel’s jacket. “Welcome, sir.”

  Derec shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to R. Jennie. “Thank you.” He stepped into the living room and looked at Mia with the same expression of amazement. “And you. You’re--”

  “Dead, yes,” Mia said. “Officially, at least. Do I know you?”

  “No. The last time I saw you was in the hospital. You were quite unconscious. The next time I saw that room, though...”

  “Bogard performed its function admirably,” Mia said.

  Derec gave the robot another look, this time with an unmistakable expression of pride.

  “Apparently,” he said.

  “Mia Daventri,” Ariel said then, “this is Derec Avery, of the Phylaxis Group. Derec--my friend, Mia Daventri.”

  Derec came up to her and extended his hand. “I’m not sure I even want to know how you ended up here. But I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  Mia took his hand. Dry, warm. “I’ve heard interesting things about you, Mr. Avery.”

  “Derec, please.” He glanced at Ariel. “From Ariel?”

  “No.”

  “How do you feel?” Ariel asked.

  “Better. A little pain block does wonders for my disposition.”

  “Good. We have work to do.”

  “‘We’?” Mia asked.

  Ariel smiled. “You wanted me to trust you, you have to trust me. I wouldn’t bring just anyone in here now. Derec is the other positronic expert on Earth.”

  Derec grinned. “The other best one, that is.” He looked at Ariel. “Who’s the first one?”

  Ariel aimed a finger at him. “Don’t start.”

  Derec raised his hands in mock surrender. ”Somebody should start, though. Why not Ms. Daventri?”

  “Mia. Unless I’m mad at you, then it’s Special Agent Daventri.” She liked his smile, she decided. But it was obvious Ariel did not. “Start where? With what?”

  “First, I suppose, how did you get out of that hospital alive?”

  Mia sighed and started talking.

  “You saw two people?” Derec asked again.

  “There might easily have been more. Bogard, how many intruders entered the hospital?”

  “I registered five presences in the building,” Bogard said. “One was the agent left as guard. One was the physician on duty sleeping in the doctor’s lounge. Three intruders entered. Two conducted the assault on your room while the third remained at the entrance.”

  “How many were involved in the assault at Union Station?” Ariel asked. “Several got away.”

  “Bogard,” Derec asked, “how many assailants did you count at Union Station?”

  “A visual count of twenty-one.”

  “That seems right,” Mia said.

  Derec was frowning at the robot. “Why the qualification, Bogard?”

  “I am not sure, Derec, but I have a firm count of the visual only. Infrared suggests eighteen, radar only nine. I cannot explain the discrepancy.”

  “We need recordings from the assault,” Derec said.

  Ariel crossed the room to her com. “We have two newsnet downloads.”

  “Only two?”

  Ariel gave Derec a mock scowl. “To start.” She worked at the com for a minute, then gestured to the subetheric. The broad space filled with the image of Union Station’s gallery, filled with spectators awaiting the arrival.

  “Thi
s is Seath Callon for GVS--”

  “We don’t need sound,” Derec said. “I think(we’ve all heard enough. Just visual.”

  The voice-over died and they watched in silence the events unfold. The entrance of the Eliton party, the gathering on the platform, the arrival of the Spacer legations, the explosions. The recorder shifted abruptly, then, the operator apparently unsure where to concentrate attention. Finally, the image closed on the platform and the area immediately surrounding it as the black-clad figures crowded against the base, firing into the panicked delegates. Mia noticed that Derec A very watched Bogard as much as the vid.

  “Looks like twenty-one to me,” Ariel said.

  “Back it up slowly,” Mia said. “Bogard, track the assailants.”

  The robot moved closer to the screen.

  The camera withdrew, the action flowing languidly in reverse until a point just before the explosions.

  “Stop,” Mia said. “Bogard?”

  “There is a discrepancy,” the robot said. “I counted twenty-one assailants at the edge of the platform. Twelve of them are absent from the crowd at this point.”

  “What--?” Ariel started. She glared at the robot.

  “Wait,” Derec said. “The vid I saw at the station from the RI surveillance, just prior to it going off-line, showed people in the crowd vanishing. Now you’re telling us that several of these figures appeared during the initial attack? They weren’t already present?”

  “That is what I am seeing, Derec.”

  Ariel’s skeptical look slowly changed to apprehension. “Mia, do you remember what you saw?”

  “Not that well. Our first concern was the explosions. Then the gunfire.”

  “Bogard,” Derec said, “we’ll advance the scene now. Tell us when those missing figures first appear.”

  The scene once more ran its course, in slow motion. The crowd seemed to undulate under the sound of the blasts, like anemone waving in an ocean current.

  “Stop,” Bogard said.

  Derec leaned forward, then grabbed the subetheric control. “Where?” he asked, handing the device to Bogard.

  The robot narrowed the view to a patch of people about four meters from the base of the platform. It was a variegated collection of onlookers, mostly well-off, dressed fashionably in brightly-colored jackets over more muted single-pieces, hair streaked and coifed in pastels. Now, panicked, their faces were drawn into macabre parodies of themselves, eyes wide, mouths gaping, and their bodies crouched in preparation to run. But they were trapped in a larger crowd with no room.

  In the very midst of the twenty or so spectators, three people stood dressed all in black. Even their heads were covered by pullovers. There was something not right about two of them, though, the two following a third who shoved a path through the crowd.

  “They don’t fit,” Mia said. “Look at the people immediately around them, especially that man in bright red. Beside him is a woman in orange? They’re standing right next to each other. In fact--Bogard, can you give us more mag? Thank you--in fact, they’re holding hands.”

  “So?” Ariel asked.

  “Their arms are joined right through that assailant’s stomach,” Mia pointed out. “Look at the other one... the shoulder is passing through that woman’s breasts.”

  “Images,” Derec said. “Projections. Bogard, follow those two, continue scan.”

  The scene began to move again. The two black-clad figures stepped quickly through--through, not around--the intervening people, following a leader, to emerge into the space now at the foot of the platform. Others joined them. They seemed to lean their elbows on the edge of the plat form, rifles in hand, and commence firing.

  “Bogard, see if the other sudden appearances come grouped in twos or threes.”

  The robot advanced and backed up the images, shifting from one part of the crowd to the next, so quickly Mia had trouble following the scene. She had to close her eyes when vertigo threatened to make her nauseated.

  “There is always one in the lead,” the robot said finally, “and two who appear behind. ”

  “Military,” Mia said. “A holographic generator worn by a soldier projects an image of two or three more. An enemy targeting system can be confused, just like Bogard was, giving multiple counts.”

  “Bogard,” Derec said, “do a projected trace on one of their shots and see where it goes.”

  There was a moment’s pause, then one of the shadow rifles fired. The scene jerked forward then, into the frightened delegates, and stopped on an Auroran woman trying to turn and flee back into the debarkation umbilical. She looked unhurt and continued her attempted flight.

  “Bogard, according to your trajectory plot she should have been hit?”

  “Yes, Derec. “

  “Wouldn’t the newsnets have figured this out already?” Ariel asked.

  “Probably not,” Mia said. “They got their recordings, they put them on subetheric, they did their duty. I doubt anyone gave it a second look.” She thought for a few seconds. “On the other hand, maybe they have and they don’t know what to do with it. It doesn’t change the results, does it?”

  “All right,” Derec said, “this would confirm your suspicion that Kynig Parapoyos at least supplied the weapons and that an ex-military man like this Bok Golner conducted the actual assault. What do we do next?”

  Mia cleared her throat, then, and looked at Derec and Ariel.

  “Before we go any further,” she said, “I need to make it clear that once we start, it gets dangerous. I can’t trust my own people and they control the security network for the planet, or at least a good portion of it. If we go probing we could get hurt. If you don’t want to risk that, tell me now and we stop it here.”

  Ariel pursed her lips and made a show of thinking it over. “There’s no option for me. I have to know. But Derec--”

  “No option for me, either,” he said. “I’m involved already through Bogard. No matter how this comes out, what I’ve built here is at risk. The only way I can protect any of it is to see this through. We’re in.”

  Mia studied them both, then nodded. “All right, then. First we need to find out where the guns came from and where Bok Golner trained his team. The attack took expertise. You don’t just get up one day and do something like this without practice. Where would they train?”

  “Kynig Parapoyos bothers me,” Ariel said. “Why would he do this? Or his organization? I don’t recall ever seeing or hearing anything about him conducting assassinations.”

  “Not like this, no,” Mia said. “But I don’t think he’s entirely behind it. Someone had to subvert the RI, someone had to subvert Special Service agents, someone had to be on the inside. Parapoyos could provide the weapons, but all the rest?”

  Ariel was nodding. “He’s the main supplier for the Settler colonies. Do you think they had anything to do with it?”

  “Why would they?” Derec asked.

  “The piracies,” Mia answered. “One of the primary suspects is the Settler worlds. One or more of them may be harboring the pirate bases.”

  “And robotic inspections could affect that relationship,” Derec said, nodding. “But all of them? As a matter of policy? Isn’t that a stretch?”

  “Of course,” Ariel said, “but the Settlers aren’t a monolith, no more than the Spacers are. It’s a possibility.”

  “It would be a good idea for you to buy some guns, Ariel,” Mia said.

  Ariel’s eyebrows went up.

  “It would be a way to get to Parapoyos. You go to the Settler Coalition and talk to them. If they’re buying through Parapoyos here, Riansa Visher was involved. Her successor will know about it. They can put you in contact.”

  “Why me?”

  “Because this little incident could mean war,” Mia explained. “Aurora may need weapons.”

  Ariel did not look comfortable, but she nodded.

  After an awkward silence, Derec waved a hand at the subetheric. “With this and the recordings from th
e RI--”

  “Assuming anyone but you and the RI staff saw those particular records,” Ariel said. “By now, Special Service may have confiscated or destroyed them.”

  Derec frowned and stared at the subetheric.

  “Bogard,” Mia said, glad for the change of subject. “Find the actual casualties and trace the shots back to source. Determine how many live assailants were present.”

  For a few painful minutes the view shifted from victim to attacker, victim to attacker, several times. Each instance startled and saddened Mia. What struck her most consistently was the expression of surprise each wounded person wore upon being hit, followed sometimes by a rictus of pain, but only if that person had survived the injury. Death left the last expression stamped on each face: bafflement, confusion, amazement, in one instance a look of betrayal.

  “Nine,” Bogard announced finally. “There are twenty-one images and nine actual assailants.”

  “Nine,” Mia mused. “That tends to validate the idea that they were after only a few individuals.”

  “Bogard, can you identify the individuals killed?” Ariel asked.

  “Yes, Ms. Burgess.” Bogard began displaying the names of the delegates as they appeared on the screen.

  “You captured three of the assailants,” Derec said to Mia. “Didn’t you?”

 

‹ Prev