Never Surrender (The Empire's Corps Book 10)
Page 28
She shrugged. Gary understood and he was sure Jasmine did too. The children must be their sons and daughters ... and they were running around, nearly-naked, in front of intruding customs officers, one of whom had grabbed Kailee’s butt during his inspection. Who knew what atrocities would be committed on a defenceless mining platform? He could see the value of not bothering to get dressed, when there was no reason to wear anything, but he wouldn't do it on Earth. It would leave him utterly defenceless.
“Then we have an offer for you,” Frazier said. He leaned forward. “We can take you out of this system, in exchange for a service.”
Pete and Andor exchanged glances. “And take us where?” Pete asked. “We have little interest in going somewhere we would be separated. Or regarded as deviant.”
“The Commonwealth,” Jasmine said. “Or the Trade Federation, if you wish. You would be rewarded with enough money to buy a whole new asteroid miner, or a starship, or even a small fleet of starships. But we will expect you to work for us until we leave.”
“We need to talk.” Pete said. He pulled his wife into the corner of the room, then looked back at them. “And I may need to run it past the others.”
Gary looked up at Jasmine, who looked unconcerned. It had to be an act, he was sure, yet he couldn't see any cracks in it. This was the one moment when they risked total exposure; too deep in the system to escape, too far from the shipyard or anywhere else to do any real damage before they were killed. And yet Jasmine looked completely calm. What did she know he didn’t? Or was it merely an act?
“They’re not monsters,” he muttered. “Why would anyone see them as deviant?”
“They’re a group-marriage,” Frazier explained. “Pete is married to four other men and five women. The children they have are a mixed group; some of them are biologically Pete’s, but he’s one of the fathers of all of them. Even the Rim has problems accepting such an arrangement, son. It tangles up the normal inheritance and breeding standards something awful.”
He sighed. “The Trade Federation would probably be happy to have them,” he added, “but there would still be issues. It wouldn't be a pleasant problem to resolve.”
Pete stamped back over to face them. “You’ve put me and my family in awful danger,” he snarled. “I assume you have a plan to keep us under control?”
“It will look as though we have occupied your asteroid,” Jasmine said. She held up one hand before he could say a word. “I apologise for the necessity of our actions, but ...”
“My family could be slaughtered if this goes wrong,” Pete snapped. “And you haven't given us much of a choice, have you? How are you any better than the bastards holding Jim’s daughters as hostages?”
Gary saw Jasmine’s eyes flicker, just for a second. It wasn't a pleasant thought. He'd learned, at school, that the abusers were often people who had been abused themselves. It had given him some pleasure to think that Barry or Moe might have been beaten by their parents, but he hadn't really believed it. How could he think otherwise? Big strong assholes like them couldn't be beaten to within an inch of their lives by anyone. And yet ...
Jasmine had been a prisoner. And she had taken hostages herself. Had she crossed the line already, assuming there was a line for the marines ... or was she worried about crossing the line. He wondered, absently, if there was anything he could do, but he couldn’t think of any options. Everything she’d done could be justified far too easily.
And perhaps that’s the problem, he thought. We rationalise everything we do far too easily.
“Wolfbane has to be stopped,” Jasmine said, finally. “You want to leave this system, with enough money to ensure you don't ever have to split up. The Commonwealth will grant you that, if you assist us; even if you want to be treated as prisoners, we will still pay you. But we cannot leave, or go elsewhere. There’s no other way to get into the system.”
Pete bunched his fists, as if he intended to take a swing at Jasmine. Gary hoped - prayed - he wouldn't do anything of the sort. Jasmine was probably faster than him, perhaps stronger ... and she had armed men within five minutes of the asteroid colony. She didn't want a fight, but she could win one if she had no choice.
That’s why she’s confident, Gary realised. She’s covered all the bases in advance.
“You’d better make damn sure we get the family out before the shit hits the fan,” Pete growled. “And that you pay us enough to make it worth our while.”
“We will,” Jasmine promised. “Now, call in your crew and I’ll call in my people, then we can sit down and have a long chat.”
It took longer than Gary had expected for the asteroid miners to finally come to terms with the unexpected visitors. They were a diverse lot - at least one of them sounded as though she was from Earth - and not all of them liked the idea of taking sides. The more he thought about it, the less Gary blamed them. They’d been dragged into the middle of a war that could easily cost them everything.
“Make sure everything is secured,” Jasmine ordered, once the asteroid miners had finally surrendered to the inevitable. “I want all weapons and long-range communications gear rounded up, then stored on the freighter. Once that’s done, we can start preparing to take the children out of the system.”
“Of course,” Stewart said.
Jasmine looked at Kailee, who had accompanied the troops to the asteroid. “Get a list of everyone on the asteroid, but make sure you write it on disposable paper,” Jasmine added, firmly. “I don't want anything on the datacores if it can be avoided. Data-miners can dig up just about anything these days.”
Pete sneered at them both. “And just how do you intend to account for keeping the freighter here for a couple of days?”
“We will see if they even notice,” Jasmine said.
“They saw us arrive,” Gary objected. “They searched us for contraband.”
Jasmine smirked. “You’re thinking of government as brutally efficient,” she said. “I rather doubt anyone cares about one old freighter staying near an isolated asteroid-mining station. We might well have dropped off their sensors completely.”
“You don’t know that,” Pete said. “They do take security seriously.”
“I don’t plan to stay long,” Jasmine said. “Now ...”
She looked at Gary. “Help Kailee with the list, then go back to the freighter and perform your regular exercises,” she ordered. “It may interest you to know that we will be adding another five push-ups tomorrow, so leaving them undone today will come back to haunt you in the very near future.”
“I won’t let him slack,” Kailee promised.
Gary blushed. Every day, after their exercises, Kailee made love to him. It was a fantastic incentive, as far as he could see. If someone had offered him the same, back on Earth, he would have worked out until he had as many muscles as Darrin. Jasmine laughed, then dismissed them both with a wave. Kailee caught his arm and dragged him away before anything else could happen.
“The children are gathered in the playroom,” she said, as they walked through the corridor and down towards yet another airlock. The bulkheads were decorated with childish pictures, suggesting that at least some of the children had artistic talents. He’d never seen anything like it on Earth, where displaying one child’s work would either be deemed elitist or discriminatory. “They looked a cute bunch.”
Gary kept his opinion to himself as they stepped into the playroom. There weren't many toys, merely a handful of teaching machines and a set of stuffed animals. Thankfully, someone had dressed the children ... but they looked almost disconcertingly calm. A kindergarten on Earth would have been the scene of a riot by now, with the bigger children picking on the smaller children and the supervisor crying in the background. The children before him just watched him calmly and waited.
“Hi,” Kailee said. The children smiled at her, then snapped back to wary attention. “I need a list of your names, if you don’t mind.”
The kids obeyed, one by one. Gary rapidl
y lost track of their forenames, while they all shared the same surname. It was clear there would be issues in the future, unless they all regarded each other as family ... but they probably did, he reasoned. The issues that ripped apart families on Earth simply didn't exist here.
“Done,” Kailee said, finally. She paused. “Can the children be left here?”
“Of course we can, silly grounder,” one of the older children said. He had a light voice that didn't seem to square with his words. Grounder wasn't exactly Dirty Earther or Groundhog, but it wasn't pleasant. “We’re not babies.”
Gary shrugged, then led the way out of the room. “How does that work?”
“I saw kids with small injuries on Meridian,” Kailee commented. “They were allowed to keep pushing the limits until they hurt themselves, then they learned from the experiences and went onwards. I guess these children learned the dangers of space pretty quickly.”
“I suppose,” Gary said. Austin had once pointed out that anything that didn't kill someone made them stronger. “But those who didn't learn the dangers would have ended up dead.”
He shook his head in disbelief. On Earth, leaving children unsupervised would be grounds for immediate dismissal, if not criminal charges. Children under sixteen were assumed to be eternally incompetent to look after themselves. But the supervisors weren't allowed to do anything that might damage their children’s self-esteem, let alone keep them from playing as they saw fit. The contradiction had led to a great many ruined lives.
“Ah, Kailee,” Jasmine called. She was standing by a processor, studying the station’s diagrams. “Do you have the list?”
“Yes, I do,” Kailee said. “There’s nineteen children in all, ranging from three to nine years old. Anyone older seems to be already part of the workforce.”
“Probably,” Jasmine said. She didn't seem surprised by the discovery, but then she had grown up on a farm. Gary had seen children on Meridian working with their parents as soon as they could, even though it was technically against Imperial Law. “They could do some things to help by then, I imagine.”
She seemed distracted, but smiled at them both. “Go back to the freighter and do your exercises,” she added. She turned her attention back to the display, her voice fading slightly as she called up more files. “I should have a plan of attack within a few hours. By then ...”
Gary felt his blood run cold. It was easy to forget where they were, but now ... now he felt it, all too clearly. They could be discovered at any moment ...
... And if they were, there was no hope of escape.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The Empire could not, openly, accept any other independent state. If it had done so, it would have raised the issue of why other worlds couldn’t be independent, worlds that were restless under the Empire’s control. Therefore, the Empire could not grant any legitimate status to POWs.
- Professor Leo Caesius. The Empire and its Prisoners of War.
Avalon, Year 5 (PE)
Kitty couldn't help a feeling of ... concern, if not nervousness, as she stepped into Colonel Stalker’s office. The last week had been spent watching the suspects and silently cataloguing their movements in order to build up a case against them, but Kitty was grimly aware that the case was far from perfect. They had a link between Hannalore, Gaston and Wolfbane, yet she had no idea if others were also involved. There were two staff members at the Governor’s Mansion who might well have assisted with bugging the entire building.
But the case was conclusive enough to justify action, she was sure. All that remained was to convince the colonel to agree.
“Colonel,” she said, as she closed the door. “I believe we have a suitable case.”
Colonel Stalker nodded, curtly. He was studying a starchart showing Wolfbane’s advance into the Commonwealth, an advance that might well have been aided and abetted by the information obtained at the Governor’s Mansion. Hannalore - or her husband, if he was involved - had focused on the political side of things, but there were some military titbits included in the DataStream. One of them might have made life easier for the advancing forces.
Kitty sat down, then rested her hands in her lap. “Hannalore, the Governor’s wife, appears to be the prime spy,” she said. “It was her idea to host the parties, which she apparently funded by selling her jewels. I have checked with the markets and confirmed that she only raised a couple of thousand credits, not enough to pay for one party let alone several. Logic suggests she must have found the money elsewhere.”
The colonel frowned. “Didn't her husband notice?”
“He would have bought the jewels for a minimum of two million imperial credits,” Kitty said, flatly. “I don't think he would have realised just how much their value had fallen, after the collapse of the Empire. Few of the richer men on Avalon care to spend their money on adorning their wives. Why spend a million credits when a thousand credits can be almost as good?”
“They might have been purchased by a wealthy woman,” Colonel Stalker pointed out.
“Same psychology,” Kitty said. “A wealthy man who buys jewels for a million credits apiece makes himself look like a fool. A wealthy woman who does the same makes herself look like a spendthrift. There’s a difference between conspicuous consumption and being a greedy asshole - or being married to one. In both cases, it weakens their claim to be responsible businesspeople.”
She shrugged. “In any case, most of the jewels are currently listed at two to three hundred credits each,” she added. “I think the vast majority were actually picked up by the museum for later display. Jewels worn by the last Governor’s Wife or something along those lines.”
The Colonel held up his hand. “Very well,” he said. “Can you prove your case?”
Kitty ticked off points on her fingers. “Hannalore has a source of money we cannot identify,” she said. “The mansion is bugged - and bugged in a manner that suggests it was the owner who did it. Said bugs picked up both false information intended to catch a spy and later snatches of false information we used to prove the bugs and the spies were linked.”
She paused for effect. “Hannalore goes to visit the same orphanage the day after each party; Garson visits the same orphanage at the same time. Garson uses one of the computers at the datanet cafe to upload a series of files onto the datanet, which are shifted through a network of automated programs until they finally end up in the out-planet datacore and get transmitted to a remote asteroid station. If all of that is a coincidence, Colonel, I would happily resign on the spot and go to work in a brothel.”
The Colonel’s lips twitched. “You probably won’t have to,” he said, dryly. “And Gaston himself?”
“Multiple anger issues,” Kitty said. “I had a psychologist do a work-up of him, now we have him under constant surveillance. His conclusion is that Gaston will snap, sooner rather than later, and when he does, the results will not be pleasant. The only mercy is that his plan to build home-made bombs seems to have been derailed.”
“Wolfbane wouldn't want him blowing up buildings when spying is much more harmful,” the Colonel agreed.
“He may restart,” Kitty said. “I don’t think he has the personality to handle the task indefinitely. Sooner or later, he will grow tired of not seeing any evidence of his success and start plotting something himself.”
The Colonel frowned. “Then why would Wolfbane rely on him?”
“Hannalore has a decent motive to visit the orphanage,” Kitty admitted. “I checked; she’s a known benefactor, even to the point of giving the children clothes and supplies from the Governor’s Mansion. She’s even been donating money recently. Gaston, too, has a good reason to visit. They may not have been able to set up a better link before we started running more counter-spy operations.”
“Or they don’t want to risk someone more competent, if Gaston is a disaster waiting to happen,” the Colonel said. He sighed. “And what about the Governor himself?”
“I don’t think he’s inv
olved,” Kitty said. “But he’s going to be shocked when he finds out.”
She shook her head. It wouldn't be the first time that a spy had embedded so thoroughly into an enemy state that he’d married and had children, developing emotional ties that would shatter when - if - the truth came out. But Hannalore hadn’t been a spy when she’d married the Governor, or when she’d come to Avalon. Unless she’d always been an embedded spy and her contact information had ended up on Wolfbane ... she sighed, then dismissed the thought. No one in their right mind would consider the Governor’s wife a reliable long-term agent.
“Shocked is one word for it,” the Colonel said. “And while he has no political power, he does have influence. Those parties gave him a lot of contacts.”
“Shit,” Kitty said.
She met the Colonel’s eyes. “I don’t think she’s a professional spy, sir,” she said. “There would be nothing to gain by leaving her where she is, without interference. We can take advantage of her without leaving her alone, I think.”