by Britt Ringel
“Maybe not as much as you might think,” Covington admitted.
Wills smiled disarmingly. “That’s why you’re a striker first.” He reached for his drink and took a long pull before explaining, “Aoife, this is no different than your aikido.” He looked deeply into her eyes. “How do you bring an opponent into submission?”
A server dropped off a cup of tea. Covington thanked her before returning to Wills. “That’s simple. I let them attack and then deflect their attack away from me while using their own momentum against them.”
“And that wrist lock you used so well against Joab?”
“You were watching?” Covington asked.
“Isn’t that obvious by now?” Wills redirected. “So was Inn. She’s rooting hard for you, by the way. It’s strange because she’s normally quite cynical.” He grunted lightly at the implication and a faint smile traced over his mouth before he shook his head to clear his thoughts. “Nevertheless, what’s the secret of your wrist locks?”
“It’s not a secret. It’s just the proper amount of pressure applied to the proper place.”
Wills gestured casually to himself. “What I do is as simple as that.” He looked toward the large bar several meters from them. It was half-filled in the early afternoon. “There. That man in the red shirt. Get me the account number to his financial institution.”
Covington gawked openly. “I can’t do that! How can you possibly expect me to get that?”
Wills shrugged, possibly apologetically. “Because your position on the team depends upon it.” He gauged the woman’s posture and expression and saw her doubt. “Aoife,” he said as he reached across the table and touched her wrist comfortingly. “You can do this. Think about what we’ve talked about.” He looked at his datapad. “Your time starts now.”
Covington groaned in exasperation as she rose from the booth. “Going to make a damned fool of myself…”
* * *
Wills’ eyes followed Covington. “You watching this?” he asked the empty booth.
The response came from the earbud in his left ear. It was Kyle Danzy’s voice. “Yes.”
Soto chimed in. “You could have made it a little easier, you know. Even if she can lift his datapad, the account number will be buried and encrypted.”
“Can you crack it, Inn?” Danzy asked.
Soto’s snort carried easily over Wills’ earbud. “In my sleep,” she replied.
“Then have faith.”
Covington reached the bar and stood next to the target. Wills watched her wobble slightly, coming close to lightly brushing her shoulder against the mark without actually touching. The professional smiled to himself. Her technique was already leaps and bounds subtler than Marka’s had been.
Counting the seconds, Wills accurately predicted how long it took the man to notice the attractive woman centimeters from him, when she could have stood anywhere.
“Hello,” the man greeted Covington. He nodded toward the nearest bartender and noted, “They’re not busy at all and the service is still terrible.”
Covington’s laugh was pleasing even from a distance.
Encouraged, the man leaned even closer to her. Most of his words were lost on Wills but he was certain that she had just been offered a free drink.
In response, Covington stepped back and slapped the man hard across the face. “How dare you!” she cried out.
All activity in the bar stopped and silence pervaded, except for a muffled snicker from Wills.
“This man has insulted me,” Covington thundered with an unparalleled umbrage.
Two bartenders scrambled toward her. Wills noticed the young hostess and a woman who could only be the restaurant’s manager rushing her way as well.
“What is the problem, Miss…” the manager asked in a tone designed to defuse the tense situation.
“LADY,” Covington corrected loudly. “Lady Aoife Covington.” She palmed her datapad and swung it around to show her credentials to the manager.
Wills nearly burst out laughing at the manager’s reaction. What had started as a routine, barroom incident was devolving into a real crisis.
“I didn’t do anything!” the man in the red shirt vowed. “I, I just offered to buy her a drink!”
“He insinuated I was a prostitute!” Covington asserted loudly. The anger in her face made her complexion match her hair. “I come to this restaurant expecting fine food and service and I get propositioned like an alley strumpet!” She turned away from the bewildered mark to glare at the manager. “I want this man’s name and corporate identity number.”
Fair Trade’s manager and the man in the red shirt tripped over themselves trying to fish out his datapad. He presented it to the irate noble. “Lady Covington,” the man sputtered, “please accept my apology. I truly only offered to buy you a drink. I didn’t mean any insult. I’m terribly sorry.”
Covington tapped the corner of her datapad to the man’s, capturing the presented data. Her volume lowered several decibels as she said, “Well, it’s possible this may have been a misunderstanding.” She stared hard into the man’s eyes and emphasized, “On your part.”
“Please, Lady Covington, let the restaurant pick up your tab by way of apology,” the manager offered. “We greatly value your patronage and I won’t get a moment of sleep tonight if I think you’ve left my restaurant with bitter feelings.”
“That’s very generous of you,” Covington said. “Let’s just agree to call this a misunderstanding and a lesson learned.” She looked across the room directly at Wills and added, “For both of us.”
A minute later she had returned to the booth. She was smiling now, bouncing up and down slightly from the afterglow. “Okay, that was kind of fun,” she admitted.
Wills battled the urge to return her enthusiasm. He was still on the clock. “You haven’t given me what I asked for yet, Aoife.”
Covington grinned at her evaluator. “Oh, I won’t be the one giving you that.” She leaned over the table and spoke loudly. “Can you hear me, Inn? I saw you and Kyle when I first came in.” She leaned to either side, inspecting Wills’ ears. “I assume the communication bud is in your ear and not implanted?”
Wills let himself smile this time. “Inn hears you.”
“Great.” Covington placed her datapad onto the table. “I assume that since you knew my password that you have access to my datapad. Inn, I need you to hack into a Mr. Theo Orson’s datapad, corporate ID Gato Viticulture 9812 and retrieve Mr. Orson’s FINN number, please.”
There was a pause before Wills chuckled. “She just asked Kyle if she’s allowed to help. She also wants you to know the last ‘N’ already stands for ‘number.’”
“Of course she’s allowed to help,” Covington declared. “You told me as much five minutes ago. That was the purpose behind the teamwork, ‘everyone works together to solve the problem’ speech, wasn’t it?”
“You’re going to fit in quite nicely, Lady Covington,” Wills predicted.
* * *
“My friends won’t understand. If I told them, they’d insist on complete transparency but if this becomes public knowledge…” Councilman Dunn hesitated before admitting, “There’s just no one else I can turn to.”
Adira Fane’s soulless expression offered not a trace of sympathy. “When people are in trouble they rely on one of two groups.” The rhythmic sway of her upper body marked time with her words. “First, they turn to their friends but if their friends cannot help them, they then seek out their enemies.”
“I never thought of you as my enemy, Madam Minister,” Dunn lied. “I’ve always admired your reputation as a problem solver.”
Fane inhaled slowly before saying, “And you have quite a problem.” Her eyes darted to the top of her desk. “Michael Dunn Junior, arrested for possession of euphoria, a Class Three offense.” Her eyes swept upward. “Among other, more provocative crimes.”
“It’s that bitch of a wife of his,” Dunn cursed. “She corrupted him all t
hrough university and it’s only getting worse.” He shook his head. “High school sweethearts or not, I should never have consented to the marriage.” He closed his eyes and wished, “If only they had never met.”
Fane’s delicate hand brushed silver hair off her shoulder. “Councilman, I don’t know what you expect. Contrary to rumors, I do not have a league of assassins under my employ.”
Dunn held his hands up. “I’ve never believed those outrageous rumors but we both know you have a talent for removing obstacles and making complications go away. You’ve held onto your ministry far longer than any minister in government. You’ve even refused promotion to the General Council to keep your station.”
“I am,” Fane’s words came as rasps, “but a humble servant of the Republic.”
“So is my son,” Dunn said strenuously. Fane noted tears forming in the man’s eyes. His head dropped to his chest. “This information cannot be released to the public,” he restated desperately. “If it were, he’d be devastated professionally and socially. He just needs a second chance.”
“Such chances are difficult to obtain in the Republic,” Fane stated. She tilted her head slightly askew, giving the impression of someone intensely studying something unfamiliar. “And word of this would not only destroy your son but the entire Dunn family reputation, wouldn’t it?”
Still unable to look up, Dunn bit down hard before confessing, “Yes. We’d lose everything. My entire life’s work.”
“You ask me to risk my own reputation by helping you.”
“I know, Adira.” Dunn finally looked up into unfeeling eyes. “If you help my son, I’ll do anything.”
The private meeting concluded three minutes later. After Dunn left, cowed and conquered, Fane ensured the recording of the meeting was secure on her private server before sitting in silent deliberation.
Titan now joined Lysithea as both system’s highest political figure was firmly under her thumb. Soon, Trevor Matthews would be elected as the President of the General Council, in no small part due to her efforts. His gratitude, though limited, would guarantee a vote when the Council hosted its annual budgetary meeting in two months.
The Parasite Initiative had reached critical mass and her schedule was condensing as multiple deadlines approached. The timing dictated that this was the year. Her precariously balanced machine would certainly not hold up for another. Fane thought about New London and Ariel. Two more dominoes remained and neither had fallen. She required only one.
* * *
Lieutenant Commander Caden Twist watched the city structures fly past him in little more than blurs of alloy and quickcrete. His taxi streaked in the airway’s dense traffic through the tight confines of Hemera. Home, Twist sighed as he watched the capital city flash by his windows.
“Are you from Hemera?” asked the taxi driver from the front of the aircar.
“Yes,” Twist answered, “although I haven’t been in Thalassa in many years.”
“A lot’s changed,” noted the driver. “Ever since the end of the war, we’ve seen a drop in investment from Bree. Not as bad as the district systems but it’s hurt growth. You still have family here?”
Twist nodded absent-mindedly while noticing just how much the cityscape had changed since he left his home for OTS. “Mom and Dad, sort of. Dad has a business here but Mom works mostly outside the system.”
The taxi cut away from the travel lanes and began a rapid descent. The rumble and vibrations inside the cab gave testimony to the power hidden under the aircar’s sleek frame. The vehicle yawed sharply to align with an actual ground street. Twist could hear the hushed alarms from the driver’s controls protesting the reckless maneuver. He reflected upon the etiquette of Hemera’s drivers. Some things never change.
After the cab dropped to the ground, the driver pointed at the central screen in eyeshot of Twist. “Two Fifty-five. No bad considering the time of day,” he stated proudly.
Twist inputted commands into his datapad to release the funds. He added gratuity and thanked the driver on his way out of the cab. The driver waved but anxiously revved the throttle while waiting for Twist to extract his bags from the backseat.
The roar of vectored thrust swirled around Twist as the taxi shot skyward. After the dust settled, he swiveled away from the street. Next to the two-story building, a colossal holo-board displayed the startling video of a half-eaten Republic carrier from the last Hollaran-Brevic conflict. The twin top-decks of the vessel had been ripped upward and the superstructure was little more than twisted mayhem. Jets of flame and debris poured into space as the vessel convulsed into her death throes. Only the front of the carrier remained clean and the name, BRS Vindicator, was clearly emblazoned on her graceful bow. Above the incredible image were the words, “Never Forget.”
Twist shivered at the spectacle before turning to face the building. The “Twist Construction” logo atop the office warmed his heart and he looked at the second-story window of his former office with nostalgia. That was a different lifetime, he thought with a touch of remorse.
His attention returned to the clear, double doors on the ground floor. Behind them, two figures waved fondly to each other while the shorter of the two retreated deeper inside the building. The office doors retracted to reveal an older version of himself. The near match smiled widely and began to jog toward him. The elder’s gait showed signs of age. “Caden!” the man exclaimed as he took his son into a fatherly embrace. “What a surprise! It’s wonderful to see you, my boy.”
Caden hugged his father fiercely. “Thanks for having me, Dad. When I found out I had almost a month before reporting to Shrike, I figured I finally had the time to come home.”
The elder Twist looked into Caden’s eyes. “A below-the-zone promotion and now a starship command. I’m so proud of you. When will you have to leave?”
“Shrike is in Ariel so it’ll only take me four or five days to get there. I have almost three weeks on Thalassa. Are you sure you have room for me and my friends?”
Father took his son into another embrace. He spoke softly. “There is always room for you here, Caden. Always.”
“I’ve missed you, Dad,” Caden said while stepping back. He looked, hesitantly, behind his father. “No Mom?”
The man’s eyes looked to the floor. “She’s busy in Bree,” he assuaged. “You know how crazy it is this time of year for her.”
Caden sighed. “Of course.”
“So tell me about your friends!”
“You actually saw one of them way back at OTS graduation. The other one was another weapons officer I met on my first ship,” Caden explained. “Vix is on his way to Boxer and will pass close by here. Lucy is finishing up Sensor Tech School on Titan.”
“I’m happy to host them. When will they arrive?”
“Vix is coming in Thursday,” Caden answered. “Lucy, next week.” He saw his father smile at the news.
“Great! I get you all to myself for a few days! I’ve already scheduled a trip to the lake and we can fly out to the trails at Brimbian Point.”
Chapter 35
The dark room held but a single table in its center. A wide wall screen in standby mode hung on the front wall. Upon first look, the room reminded Covington of the interrogation room she had been held in after her arrest at Port Crown years ago, albeit this was a much more sophisticated version. Back then, the local authority had quickly isolated her once her identity had been confirmed and the police had been unable to interview her until her counsel and a parent arrived. She had been very nervous at the time, and scared. Walking into the ATAC briefing room rekindled those feelings.
Covington stood by the table and deliberately waited until her teammates sat to avoid taking anyone’s chair. As she predicted, Wills sat in front of the wall screen controls inlaid into the table’s surface. Next to him, Danzy sat at the center with Joab seated to his right. Soto sat on the other side of Wills, leaving the chair at the end next to Joab vacant. As unsettling as Joab was to Covington
, she believed she detected an undercurrent of fraternity from the menacing giant. Despite his perpetually angry tone, a playful light in his eyes reinforced her belief.
“Okay, Alden, start it up,” Danzy ordered.
The lights dimmed even further and the wall screen flashed to life. A map of the Lesser Magellanic Arm appeared. The LMA held nine separate star systems, including Seshafi, that were owned by one of four major corporations. The star chart zoomed in on a two-system corporation before the view transitioned to a group of buildings dominated by a tall skyscraper at the center. A corporate logo was prominent along the top of the screen.
Wills cleared his throat and gestured to the screen. “These are the operating facilities of Toland Malatech, a corporation headquartered in the city of Orleans on the primary planet inside the Ardea system. Now, Ardea is dominated by Abstract Unitecs Enterprise but AUE has hundreds of subsidiaries operating across its two star systems.”
“Just like AmyraCorp, IaCom or any of the major corporations,” Joab grumbled. “Can you not waste our time and skip to the important stuff, Alden?”
“Malatech, despite its scary sounding name,” Wills continued, “doesn’t research weapons technology anymore.” He leaned forward to look down the length of the table as he explained, “You see, the company was founded in Nine Twenty-Two when the worst of the corporate fighting was taking place. That’s when they developed weapons but in Nine Thirty-Four, they switched focus to the more lucrative fields of propulsion and navigation systems. It was a smart move because of the changes in how corporate conflicts are fought.”
“Alden,” Joab growled.
“Which brings us to this,” Wills said while pecking at the table’s controls. The view on the screen focused on the large building that towered over its brethren. “This is Malatech’s main facility. Somewhere inside it is the research for one of their projects called Project Oris Spatium. That’s the codename for their work regarding ephemeral tunnel point nascency.”