Planetside

by Michael Mammay

  We sat in silence for at least a few moments. I had enough of a buzz to lose sense of time, and to not care about awkward silence.

  “Thanks for the drinks,” Stirling said, finally.

  “Anytime.” I didn’t get up as he left.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I woke up the next morning with more of a hangover than normal and a new clarity on how derailed my investigation had become. My best hope rested on the possibility that someone who had lied to me, and very possibly covered up evidence, would come through . . . that made for a steaming pile of crap. I couldn’t deny it any longer. I needed help. Unfortunately the nearest person I could completely trust other than Mac sat several months of deep space travel away.

  After I showered a little longer than necessary, Parker showed up and hunched over my terminal to do some sort of computer magic. I wanted a few extra levels of encryption on my system.

  “You’re set up for level-five encryption, now, sir,” said the big man.

  “So it’s secure?”

  “Pretty damn secure, sir. We don’t usually send anything out beyond level four, and that’s only for the serious intel stuff.”

  “So on the other end, nobody can get it but Serata?”

  “That’s right, sir. Level five is double bio-encrypted at both ends. Nobody can open it but the recipient.”

  I knew that, but I wanted to hear him say it. “It can’t be hacked?”

  “Sir . . . anything can be hacked with enough resources.”

  “Like the type of resources it would take to erase flight tracks from the computers here?”

  Parker smiled. “No, sir. That stuff was level-three encryption, this is level five.”

  “So more secure.”

  “Yes, sir. Level three is encrypted at 2048 bit—”

  I cut him off. “Normal person words, Parker.”

  “Level three is protected against outside the network, but once you’re in, it’s fairly accessible. Level five is protected even from within.” He paused, probably dumbing down what he needed to say next. “Basically, only you can access it, sir.”

  To log into the secure connection, I had to do a thumbprint and a retinal scan. I guess it needed two biometric cues in case someone stole my thumb, although if someone was willing to take my thumb, they probably wouldn’t be squeamish about my eye. But that line of thinking seemed somewhat counterproductive. Parker assured me that once I logged out, nobody could read what I wrote, not even him. I couldn’t control who saw it on the far end, but Serata would have to log in himself to receive it. I rarely use a keyboard, usually opting for voice recognition, but I didn’t want to chance anyone overhearing me, so I sat back down at the terminal.

  Sir—Eyes only—reached multiple dead ends in the investigation. Don’t trust anyone here to help me out. Hardy got blown up in an ambush. He’s fine, but he’ll be laid up for a couple of weeks. Shattered hip. Sorry about that. Someone is contaminating the investigation. Maybe more than one entity. Can’t be sure. All the radar tracks from the day of Mallot’s disappearance have been erased. Signs point to a hack from inside Cappa Base, but outside of Stirling’s HQ.

  Zero cooperation from the hospital, still. Will re-look that angle later today. Tried to get to Karikov, but got ambushed on the way. Possibility that it was an inside job. I know that sounds ridiculous, but there are too many coincidences.

  I don’t trust Stirling. I don’t think he was involved in the ambush, but he’s hiding something. I know he’s got a good record, but he’s covering up. I don’t know what. Just gut instinct at this point. But I’d put a lot of money on it. Not sure I can get this thing closed out with him in charge here. Openly, he’s cooperating. But he’s keeping tabs on everything (as we all would) and I’m not sure what happens if something points to one of his guys.

  Need someone to run a check on a sergeant named Caena. Alfred P. Caena. In theory, he was redeployed for psych. Need to know where he is, and if we can get to him. He saw something. Cappans being loaded into one of our MEDEVACs, and taken off planet. I know that’s outside my investigation, but it’s huge. And the MEDEVAC he saw them on was the same one they put Mallot on. So there might be a connection.

  I’d tell you to send help, but there’s no way it gets here in time to do me any good.

  Respectfully, Carl

  I read it over one time to make sure I didn’t have any glaring mistakes, then hit send and cleared the screen before calling Parker back over to make sure I logged out correctly. “You’re sure nobody can get back into this?”

  He looked at me with the look that technical types give when you ask a stupid question. “I’m sure, sir.”

  “It would help me out if you didn’t talk about it.”

  He nodded. “Sure, sir. I’ll tell them it was a routine tech issue.”

  I held out my hand, and he engulfed it in his. “Thanks.”

  I couldn’t stand sitting in my room, looking at the screen and waiting for a message to come in, so I started to wander without really thinking too hard about direction. I ended up over near the hospital. I’m sure someone who evaluated things in people’s minds would make something of that, but I took it for random chance and went in.

  I hadn’t been there for even a minute when a tall doctor walked up to me. He had short-cropped hair, which made him unusual for the hospital. I decided I didn’t like him before he even spoke. Instinct.

  “Sir, you’re not supposed to be here.” He confirmed my initial thought. I didn’t like him.

  “Who are you?” I didn’t stop walking, which forced him to scramble to match my pace.

  “I’m Lieutenant Colonel Wilson, the deputy commander of the hospital,” he said.

  My mistake. Not a doctor. If he was a doctor, he’d have used that for a title. Probably an administrator. Maybe a nurse. “That’s great. Go get your boss. She can throw me out herself.”

  “She’s off base, which makes me the acting commander.”

  “Huh. Isn’t that nice.” Off base. What was the hospital commander doing off base? “I’ll just wait for her to get back, then.”

  “I’m afraid that’s not possible, sir. She won’t be back today.” He had a weird voice that pissed me off. He probably didn’t really have a weird voice. But he did piss me off.

  “Really?” I looked over at him, but I didn’t slow down. “I’ve never heard of a hospital commander leaving base before. Is she just saying that so she doesn’t have to talk to me?”

  “No, sir.” He sounded offended, but it was nothing personal. More like a vague dislike of his entire profession. He might have picked up on that.

  “Then where is she?” I asked.

  “She’s touring the forward medical stations planetside.”

  I stopped walking. I’d never seen a hospital officer of any grade go to a forward med station. I didn’t know if I should be impressed or suspicious. Given everything else going on, I went with the latter. “She do that often?”

  “Once a quarter,” said Wilson.

  “Good for her. Well you can relax, Wilson. I’m not here to take over the hospital. I just want to see my boy. So if you’ll point me toward Lieutenant Hardy, I’ll be out of your hair. Maybe you could ring up his doc, too. I’ll want to talk to him or her.”

  He thought for a moment. “Hardy. Hip injury?”

  “That’s him.” I started walking again, mostly because I didn’t want Wilson to get the idea I might be leaving.

  “I think they still have him under, sir. You won’t be able to talk to him.”

  “Humor me, Wilson. I want to see him. It’s either that or you’re going to have to try to physically throw me out. I’m an old man, so I’m sure you’ve got some orderlies who can do it. But do you really want to go down that path?”

  Wilson paused, and I had a feeling he was actually considering it. He probably wondered if he could get away with having me roughed up. “Wait here, sir. I’m serious. Right here. I’ll get his doctor.”

&nbs
p; “I won’t move. I promise.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  I didn’t get to see Hardy. Not awake, anyway. They let me look at his unconscious, wired-up body in order to appease me. As if seeing my man laid up like this could do such a thing. His doctor said they wouldn’t know anything more for a couple days. That didn’t help my mood. I sat around for the better part of the next two days, letting my lack of progress fuel my natural inclination to do nothing. I knew I should move forward, but without somewhere to go I couldn’t muster the energy.

  The fact that I hadn’t heard back from General Serata might have had something to do with my malaise. He’d answered my other communiqués immediately. But I’d sent the most recent more than thirty-six hours ago and hadn’t heard a word, despite checking in at the commo shop three times to make sure there were no problems with the networks. I didn’t know if he had read it and chosen not to respond, or simply hadn’t seen it.

  I didn’t know which bothered me more.

  Plazz’s story ran in the Talcan Times, far removed from the splash page. The only reason I even found it is she referenced my name, which triggered an alert I’d set. The whole piece ran barely two paragraphs, and basically said that while they’d sent a decorated veteran out to investigate (me), that we had nothing new to report. She’d stuck to our agreement. Whether that had been out of loyalty or because she had no better options, I couldn’t say. I assumed the latter. I had no illusions. She’d run whatever she had if it made a good story. We all had jobs to do.

  I’d almost convinced myself to move forward with my own job when the alarm sounded on my terminal for a new message. I hurried over, cursed myself for hurrying, then scanned in and touched the screen to display it.

  Carl—Not the progress I’d hoped for. I’m sure you’ll get there. Sorry for the delay. Some of what you wanted took time. Got you some limited authorities in the hospital. Took a LOT of doing, so don’t waste it. Be as discreet and easy to work with as you can. And yes, I know who I’m talking to.

  I chuckled. He really did know. But since he directly said so, I’d tone it down with the hospital. He knew that, too.

  I’ve got you a contact with special ops. A major named Chu. She was one of mine back in the day. Good woman. Karikov is well connected in his community, though, and will be hard to touch no matter what.

  Acknowledged on the potential breach of protocols on alien life. Keep it quiet until you can show definitive proof. If you get evidence, that’s critical information, eyes only, to me immediately. If it’s true, it’s going to cause a wave of crap, so I want you to be sure. What I really want is for you to be wrong about it.

  You’re going to have to figure out how to work with Stirling. I’m not pulling him out without something really solid. He rotates out in a few months, and doing something sooner than that wouldn’t accomplish much. It might make things worse rather than better. If you want, I’ll send him a note and tell him to help you out more. I’ll do it subtly, but I’ll make sure he gets the message. Just let me know.

  Checking into Caena. Had the HR folks do a search. He didn’t show up in any transfer records. In fact, they couldn’t find anything beyond his assignment to Cappa. Something is off there, if he’s left his unit. Will work it from this end.

  Saw you in the news. Avoid that. Give my best to Hardy. Try not to get blown up.

  Serata

  I read it through twice, then deleted the message. I had no idea where stuff like this got stored, or who could access it down the road, but it seemed prudent. Even at that point I guess I thought about covering my tracks. Maybe it was just my nature. I opened a new document instead of responding to his.

  Sir—Acknowledge all. Go ahead and contact Stirling, but don’t scare him. Tell him that I’m failing, and that you need him to pick up my slack. Imply lack of confidence that I’ll get it done while impressing that it has to get done. Weird on Caena. Will dig into it here, too. Respectfully, Carl.

  The next morning I headed off to the Special Ops wing on foot, going up three decks and down a series of passages heading toward the center of the station. I didn’t wait for Mac because I didn’t really know where I was going, and security felt like a waste of time. Spec Ops didn’t mark any of the hatches or corridors in their area, so I walked around staring at a bunch of similar off-white walls and started opening doors at random. Not all of them functioned for me, but I had enough authorization in the base system that some of them did, and eventually I found a few operators staring at screens and listening to communications. They didn’t stop when I walked in, though one of them looked up.

  “I’m looking for Major Chu,” I announced.

  “She’s not here,” called someone from behind a monitor. He looked up and saw me. “Sir,” he added. Still, the skinny, olive-skinned man took his time getting out of his seat. He wore uniform pants and a T-shirt that had neither name nor rank on it, and more than a day’s growth of scraggly beard decorated his face.

  “Where is she?” I asked without inflection.

  “I’m Captain Patel, sir.” He waited, as if expecting me to introduce myself as well.

  “Nice to meet you, Patel. Where can I find Chu?” I wasn’t really in the mood for games, but I knew Patel’s type. He wanted me to respond to him, so that he could steer the tenor of the conversation. Not happening. I’m fluent in asshole and all of its dialects.

  “She’s down, sir. Most of our folks work nights.” Night and day were nebulous concepts on a space station, but in this case Patel likely meant how it synched to the planet, which happened to roughly line up with standard time this week. A day on Cappa Three took slightly less than the galactic standard, so over time it would fall back out of synch and repeat on its own cycle.

  “I can wait while you get her up,” I said.

  Patel waited, maybe expecting an explanation, maybe an excuse why I needed to see her now. Since I didn’t offer one, he said, “Can I tell her what this is in reference to?”

  “Sure. Tell her Colonel Butler wants to talk to her.”

  Patel apparently realized he wouldn’t win the pissing contest he’d started, and after a moment he shuffled out the door. The two other people working in the room kept doing whatever it was they were doing, glancing up at me occasionally while they did it. I smiled at one of the guys, and he immediately looked away.

  We continued that game for maybe five minutes before Patel came back in, trailed by someone I assumed was Chu, though dressed in gym clothes and slippers I couldn’t be sure.

  “I’m Major Chu, sir. Captain Patel said you wanted to see me? Sorry for my appearance.” Her short hair had matted on one side.

  “No problem. I know you were asleep,” I said. “I apologize for waking you up.”

  “No worries, sir. I’m always on call.” She yawned.

  “Is there some place we can talk?”

  “Yes, sir. We can use my office.” She started walking through the room to a hatch on the opposite side, and I followed her.

  The door zipped open and lights came on as we entered an office barely big enough to earn the title. It contained a desk, three chairs, and a small bookshelf, all cluttered with disposable tablets, maps, and various other junk. Chu stopped and cleared the stuff off of one of the chairs so I could sit down. She stacked it onto the other chair, increasing the pile there until it looked perilously close to tumbling over. “Sorry about the mess.”

  “Whatever works for you.” I took the seat and waited for Chu to get behind the desk before I continued. “General Serata told me I could count on you.”

  Chu’s face lit up, the corners of her mouth turning upward in a slight smile. “How is the general?” Her voice held genuine affection.

  “He’s well. At least he was when I saw him six months ago. He wanted me to pass on his regards.”

  “Thanks, sir. When you talk to him again, I’d appreciate it if you’d thank him for me. He released me early from an assignment so that I could take the qualification te
st for Special Ops. Right after he told me that he felt it was a waste of a perfectly good infantry officer.” She smiled.

  I smiled back. “Yeah, that sounds like him. Where’d you serve with him?”

  “Polla Five.”

  “Really? I was there. When?” I asked.

  She scrunched her face a little. “Like seven years ago? It was near the end of General Serata’s tour there. After the big stuff was done. My company transferred in as replacements.”

  “I wonder if you and I overlapped. I deployed with him, but I left early.” I left out the reason why I’d left. Another story I never tell sober.

  “I remember your name, sir. I think you’d just left when I arrived, but people talked about you.”

  “Don’t believe any of it.” I smiled.

  Chu chuckled. “Nah, sir. It was good stuff. Mostly.”

  I laughed. “That sounds about right.”

  “You mentioned that the general said you could count on me, sir. For what?”

  I blew air out through my mouth. “I need to get in touch with Colonel Karikov.”

  Chu paused. “The colonel keeps a weird schedule down on the planet, but I’m sure I can get him on the comm if it’s important.”

  “I need to see him face-to-face,” I said.

  “Oh.” Chu frowned. “That’s harder.”

  I nodded. “If it was easy, I wouldn’t need your help.”

  “Roger that, sir. I can see about putting you on a bird the next time we send one down.” She didn’t sound hopeful, almost like she wanted to discourage me.

  “I’d like to see him up here.” I knew the reaction I’d get before I said it, but I had to try.

  Chu nodded. “Sir . . . Colonel Karikov . . . he doesn’t come spaceside.”

  “I’ve heard that. But a councilor’s kid disappeared. It’s a sensitive situation, and I’m just looking to tie up the loose ends.”