by Cary Caffrey
So, the merchantman had told her the truth. But now Sigrid knew, even that truth was a lie.
"It wasn't only your names, Sigrid," Hitomi said. "Look."
Hitomi tapped at the image. There was information: detailed profiles on all of them; their parents, families, their medical histories, school records.
Sigrid felt her heart racing. There was a connection. They knew. Wereme's presence on the station, on Bellatrix, it wasn't a coincidence.
"Then I didn't imagine it."
"No, dear. I hope this means you'll be more trusting of your instincts in the future."
"Yes, Mistress," Sigrid said, relieved.
"You cannot afford to doubt yourself, Sigrid. Not with what is to come."
Sigrid looked up at Hitomi, not certain of what she meant.
"I know what it is you intend to do, Sigrid. And I know why you want to go."
"Mistress, if you're going to try to talk me out of it—"
Hitomi shook her head. "No. Quite the opposite. I believe it is imperative that you go. That is why I have sanctioned this operation. But there is something that disturbs me about all this. I'm concerned."
"I'll be careful. I know the danger."
"That's just it, dear. I'm not sure you do. You are a dear girl—the brightest and bravest I have ever met. But, Sigrid, you're eighteen. There is much you need to learn, much I have not had the chance to teach you. I have failed you in this."
"Failed? No, Mistress, you haven't failed any of us. You've trained us, given us a chance. You've given us a home!"
"And you are kind for saying so. But, fear not, I may yet be of some help. Mr. Wereme's notes did reveal one last thing. Your names were not the only ones on that list. There was another." Hitomi keyed the display, altering the image. Sigrid saw the profile, not of a woman, not a girl like her, but a man.
Sigrid reached out, touching the three-dimensional image, turning it to better study the man's face. She didn't know him, she'd never seen him, and yet this man's name was on the list next to hers. He was older than she, perhaps by fifteen years or so. His hair was cropped short, and his face had a hardness to it, more serious than threatening.
"His name is John Mirren," Hitomi said. "And he is on Bellatrix."
Bellatrix. There it was again, that distant factory world. What was it about that place?
"Is it him—is he the one? Shall I kill him, Mistress?"
The question, asked so innocently, caused Hitomi to smile. "If you mean, was he behind the attacks on Alcyone? No, I doubt that very much. I can't see John wanting to involve himself in such an affair. It would also be well beyond his means. As for killing him…"
John. Sigrid caught the familiar use of the man's name. "Do you know him? Is he a friend?"
"Friend? No, my dear. I would not go so far as that. John Mirren was a mercenary once, as was I. We have been colleagues, compatriots, other times adversaries. But friends? I wouldn't presume such a thing."
Sigrid shook her head, even more confused. "But his name is on the list. If he's not a friend, if he's not the one responsible—"
"He may not be responsible, Sigrid, but he is involved. John Mirren… He is a broker, of sorts. He deals in information."
"Information?"
"Yes. And he is very good at what he does. He helped me find you!"
"Me?"
"Finding you was not an easy thing, Sigrid. You can't imagine what a difficult task that was. If not for him, if not for John Mirren, we might never have found you at all." Hitomi turned back to face the display. "There can be only one reason why his name is on this list. Someone is sending us a message—me a message. This Bernat Wereme has gone through a great deal of trouble to let us know that he is aware of Mirren's involvement. Whoever he is, he knows about John. And…John Mirren knows of us. You must seek him out, Sigrid."
Seek him. That's what Hitomi had said. But Sigrid sensed something more behind the simple command. If this man, this broker, if he really did know of their existence…
"To warn him, Mistress, or to kill him?"
"I'm afraid you will have to make that determination. Seek him out. Tell him you work for me. He will understand."
"And you think he'll help us?"
"My dear, I think he'll take every opportunity to lie to you, cheat you, fleece you blind! But he knows the system. He knows Bellatrix. He can provide you with introductions. You'll need his contacts if you wish to make any progress there. But, Sigrid, you must be mindful of him. I would not trust him farther than you can throw him. No. Wait. Less. I imagine you might be able to toss him quite far."
"Mistress?"
"Nothing. It's nothing." Hitomi sighed, shaking her head. "You must promise me you'll take care on this mission, Sigrid. Take care of yourself. Take care of your friends. Find our enemies. Find them, and do what you must. And come home, above all else. Don't let anyone sway you from that path."
"Don't worry. I won't fail you. I won't fail you again."
"My dear girl, you never could. But this business we're mixed up in, I fear it can only mean one thing. This list is a message—it's a warning."
But Sigrid had another thought entirely.
"No, Mistress, it's an invitation."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Freelancer
With Bernat Wereme's message uncovered, planning for the mission began in earnest. The lady's attendants brought sandwiches and tea. Sigrid ate heartily, famished after all Dr. Garrett's tinkering.
Finishing off the last of the sandwiches, Sigrid sat back, resting her hands on her stomach.
"Shall I send for more?" Hitomi asked.
To her horror, Sigrid realized that she'd eaten everything, leaving none for Hitomi. "No—I'm quite full, thank you."
"Very well, then. Perhaps we might turn our attention to the task at hand."
"Yes, Mistress."
"I've been considering our first hurdle. You're going to need a way into Bellatrix."
"A way in?" Sigrid asked. "But I thought—"
Hitomi chuckled. "Yes, I'm sure you thought to simply barge your way through security, but I don't believe you will find travel to Bellatrix such an easy thing. Bellatrix is a Council-controlled world. It is a major center for commerce. People do not simply go to such a place without good reason. CTF Security will want to know why you're there. They will be watching for you, Sigrid. After what happened on Scorpii, and now on Konoe, security is certain to be heightened. You will need a cover, a reason for being there. Something convincing—something security won't think twice about."
Hitomi looked her up and over; Sigrid sank lower in her chair under the scrutiny. "I think you're a little young to be posing as a woman of industry. We'll have to come up with something more plausible, something that makes sense for a woman your age. And, no, I will not have any of my girls posing as flesh traders. We're not that desperate yet."
Sigrid thought back to Konoe Station and how the captain and his crew had tried to disguise her as one of them. Corbin Price had seen through that ruse all too easily. Sigrid realized that there was little point in posing as anything other than what she was.
But what was she? She was no mercenary—not technically. The Council had seen to stripping Lady Hitomi of her status, banishing them from the Federation. That left few options. Save for one.
"Freelancer," Sigrid said.
Hitomi looked up at her with interest, but there was a note of caution in her voice when she spoke. "Freelancer? An interesting choice. But you do realize the implications?"
"I know, Mistress."
Sigrid knew what Hitomi must think. Freelancers were not looked upon kindly, especially amongst mercenaries. The Kimurans would not approve. Freelancers were little more than outcasts and pirates, murderers and thieves. They were loyal to no one, bound by no laws. They were ronin. As far as mercenaries were concerned, freelancers were scum.
But Sigrid knew it was the perfect cover. Unhindered by the modern bureaucracies, freelancers moved free
ly between the Federated and nonaligned worlds. They answered to neither the Mercenary Guild nor the Council. If authorities bothered to take notice of her, it would only be to look upon her with pity, with scorn, and even contempt.
Hitomi chuckled. "Captain Trybuszkiewicz will think us quite mad."
Sigrid felt her cheeks flush. She could only imagine what the captain would think. "I know. But it's perfect."
"You'll need permits, Sigrid. Letters of transit. We should probably arrange a contract. Something simple. We can't afford security having too close a look at you."
Sigrid looked up in surprise. She'd expected her mistress to dissuade her, tell her how foolish it was. "Then—then, you agree? Do you really think it will work?"
"The Council already regards us as a band of criminals. I suppose there's no harm in playing the part. It will take me some time to make the arrangements."
"If there's anything I can do—"
Hitomi smiled. "My dear, I've had a lifetime of falsifying permits. It's nothing I'm proud of—no, wait, actually, I'm quite proud of that. But don't worry yourself. This is my domain. I will take care of it. Have you given any thought to your crew?"
"Yes, Mistress, I think I know just the girls for the job."
*
"Me?" Trudy said. "You want me to come?"
"Don't look at me," Suko said, pointing her thumb at Sigrid. "She picked you."
Leaning against the small desk in Trudy's quarters, Sigrid stood facing her. She couldn't help but smile at the girl's bewilderment.
"Yes, Trudy," Sigrid said, "I want you to come. I need you."
Her name was Trudy Majumdar. Sigrid couldn't blame her for being shocked. Trudy had never taken to the recombinant as had so many of her sisters, never quite blossoming to the same genetically-enhanced degree. Short and very slight, she practically swam in her uniform. The young Indian girl was hardly known for her prowess in physical combat; there were bound to be questions regarding her selection, but Sigrid knew Trudy had other skills, ones that could prove far more valuable on her mission than a raised fist or wielded weapon.
Trudy continued to blink back at her, mystified. "I'm not sure how to put this, but…um, why me?"
"Because, Trudy, you're the most highly-skilled decryption specialist we have. No one knows networks better than you."
"But Lady Hitomi—"
"Lady Hitomi will not be accompanying us on this mission. We can't risk her presence on Bellatrix."
Trudy nodded pensively. "But you can risk me."
Sigrid shifted uneasily. "Well, I can't command you to come, Trudy. If you're not sure—"
"What? Oh…no, I didn't mean…" Trudy leapt to her feet, grasping Sigrid's hands, her shock over the selection giving way to excitement. "Sigrid, of course I'll come! I'm dying to come! I'm just not used to being picked, is all. No one ever picks me. And I mean, no one picks me. Ever."
"She's right," Suko said with a wink to Sigrid. "It's never happened. Not once."
"Well, I'm picking you, Trudy," Sigrid said. "I'm going to need the very best on this mission. And right now, that's you."
"The best?" Trudy beamed. "I don't know if I'd go that far. Though it's very kind of you to say—"
"It's not kindness, Trudy. It's the truth. You might be the most important person on this mission."
"Careful," Suko cautioned. "I think her head just grew three hat sizes."
Trudy threw her arms around Sigrid, ecstatic. "Thank you, Sigrid. Oh, thank you, thank you!"
"Don't thank me yet, Trudy. You haven't even heard where we're going."
"I don't care! We all heard what happened on Konoe Station. We know what you're planning."
"Trudy, I'm not sure what you've heard—"
"I've heard all I need. Sigrid, if you're going after those bastards, then I'm your girl."
Sigrid couldn't help but smile. "Trudy, we don't even know who those bastards are."
"Then we best go find out."
*
Suko closed the door behind them as they left. They paused, listening, hearing the excited sounds of Trudy packing hurriedly, the squeals of glee.
"Does she know we're not leaving for a week?" Suko asked.
"Goodness. I didn't think to tell her."
"But we are leaving," a voice said from ahead on the path.
Sigrid looked up to see Leta approaching. The tall redhead was flanked by Khepri and Christian. They came to a stop at the base of the steps. Leta scowled up at her, Khepri at her side, arms folded.
Sigrid sighed. "Does everyone know about this? I thought this was a secret mission?"
"Don't look at me!" Suko said. "I never said a word."
"We heard," Christian said. "And don't think you're leaving without us."
Sigrid held up her hands in surrender. "Now, wait. I was just coming to talk to the three of you."
"Well," Leta said, "here we are. What's the mission?"
Sigrid scratched at her head. It was a dreadful feeling, knowing she had to disappoint her friends, but there was nothing for it. "Look, nothing would make me happier than to have you all along, but I can't. It's impossible."
"The only thing that's impossible," Khepri said, "is you leaving without us."
"Khepri—all of you. You know we can't go leaving the island unprotected. It's too much to risk—there's too much at stake! Khepri, I'm sorry, but with Suko gone, I'm going to need you here. I can't afford to have both of you away. Not at the same time. I need you to stay and take care of the girls' training. Especially the young ones. No one knows them better. No one cares for them more than you."
Khepri stood, hands on her hips; Sigrid could tell she was struggling, searching for something to counter Sigrid's argument.
"This is important, Khepri," Sigrid persisted. "They must continue their training—and their treatments. They have to be cared for. Otherwise…well, none of this matters."
"Is that an order?" Khepri asked.
"It's a request. They need you, Khepri. I need you."
Khepri sighed, but she nodded, if reluctantly.
Leta looked less convinced. She crossed her arms defiantly. Even standing where she was on the lower step—all six foot three of her—she still managed to look down at Sigrid.
"Don't even think it," Leta cautioned. "I'm no instructor. My only duties these days seem to be peeling potatoes in the mess, and frankly, I've had just about enough of that."
Sigrid smiled. She knew as well as Leta that the peeling of potatoes—when they had them—was entirely automated. "No. No potato peeling for you. In fact, Selene has asked me for a qualified copilot. I'll need you to help her with operations on the Morrigan. If you're up to the task.
"If?" Leta said. "You are joking."
"Although, we could probably still use you in the ship's mess. That is, if you're willing."
As answer, Leta grabbed Sigrid around the waist, sweeping her into her arms and lifting her in a rib-crushing hug.
"I'll take that as a yes," Sigrid wheezed.
"Sorry," Leta said, putting her down.
"You can report to Selene directly. I've given her command of the Morrigan for this mission. She'll want to brief you on ship's operations."
"Don't worry," Christian said. "I can show her the ropes. I'm still your tactical officer."
Sigrid winced. "I'm sorry, Christian." She wrung her hands together; she still wasn't sure how Christian would react to what she was about to say. "But I'm afraid I have a different mission for you. One that is of far greater importance to New Alcyone. And…well, I think one that may prove far more dangerous."
"Dangerous? If you're just saying that to get me to—"
"I'm not joking, Christian. And don't say yes. Not until you hear what it is."
"All right. Now I am curious. What's this all about?"
"Well, I suppose you'll all know soon enough. Come on. It might be best if I show you."
Leaving Khepri and Leta to their tasks, Sigrid led Christian and Suko do
wn the path toward the collection of modular prefab structures. Most of the Kimuran expats made their homes here, away from the Academy grounds. Sigrid walked amongst the plasteel buildings until she found the one she sought. Mounting the steps, she knocked at the door. It swung open instantly. Captain Trybuszkiewicz smiled in greeting.
"Captain," Sigrid said, "thank you for seeing us."
"Not at all, Ms. Novak, Ms. Tansho. Please come in." Seeing Christian standing behind them, he paused. "Mr…"
"Lieutenant Lopez," Christian said, snapping a salute. "I was the tactical officer aboard the Agatsuma."
"A brave ship," the captain said, impressed. "Captain Maalouf is a fine officer."
"He is, sir. He spoke highly of you as well."
"Did he now? I wasn't aware that—"
"Captain—sir," Sigrid cut in. "If you please…?"
"Oh, yes, of course."
Captain Trybuszkiewicz stepped away from the door, inviting them into his small bungalow. Sigrid removed her boots, bowed, and made her way inside. The captain moved toward the small bar set up on a side table. On it sat a half-filled carafe with a clear liquid Sigrid scanned as vodka.
"I was just making myself a drink. May I get you one?"
"No, thank you," Sigrid said. Christian also declined.
Suko nudged past her, taking the offered glass from the captain. "Speak for yourself." She drained it, tossing it back with a tip of her elbow. She held out the empty glass for more, which seemed to please the captain immensely. The alcohol would have no effect on her, of course; the billions of nanomites coursing through her bloodstream would make certain of that. Whether or not the captain knew this, Sigrid wasn't sure, though she noted the second pour was much more generous, if enthusiastic. Suko raised her glass to him in thanks.
The captain indicated the sofa and the two girls took their seats, Christian in a small wooden chair across from them.
"I'm glad you stopped by," the captain said. "I've heard of the operation you are planning. I can't help but notice you have no assignment for my ships and crews. I would like to offer you the service of both. I think you will need support on this mission. We can lend that."