by Clay Moore
The Eridani were rightly proud of their medical infrastructure. Ask an Eridani to prove that he or she was not currently fertile and they proudly would show you the red mark that Ameurgen made on the arm. She asked one proud Ameurgen user if the red dot was painful. They responded with a negative. Perhaps the mark was there while the drug was being delivered over time. She thought about getting ameurgen while on Eridani.
Her mark was a new kind of agent, one called a Special Agent. She pulled out her slate while she waited for the customs and immigration agents to rifle through women’s panties looking for illicit goods. She was clean, but once inside Eridani she would have to gather the tools of her trade. To get those supplies, she would have to use tradecraft.
She chuckled at having to use tradecraft, but Andrea used her personal assassins for political gain within Planetary Interests. This was the first time she had been sent from Alphacent. She spent a lot of time in her house reading about Eridani from a library app. That was not enough. She thought that she should make an assessment document for Andrea’s other agents. She was bound to make mistakes.
Her turn came up in the inspection. She pointed to the brown leather suitcase with a bright pink bungee cord around. She opened the bag for them. She was traveling as herself. The only time that she did not go as herself was if the targets knew that she was coming. Pris had a cover identification if someone found out who she was. It was her escape identity.
The amazingly trim official that had her suitcase went through her things. He was making an effort not to knock things about. He suddenly stiffened when his hand felt something rounded and about six inches in length. Flustered he tried to turn it off, but only managed to put it on the next speed setting.
Pris took pity on him. She reached over and turned off the vibrator.
“That’s Reginald. I always take him when I go off the planet.”
The Inspector had seen enough of her suitcase. He zipped it close. He put on a Green tag which was to say she was green to go. She carried her bag to just out of the custom’s area. Then she activated the null grav unit. The suitcase floated about six inches from the floor. She pulled it to the taxi stand at the main entrance of Central spaceport. She said her destination at the Shangri’la hotel. She paid the fare and tipped the cabbie generously.
Like almost every hotel in the human part of the galaxy, there was a check-in kiosk. Pris entered her reservation code. The booth discharged a band that you wear. The band was the key to your room. She put the band in her pocket. Wearing it around your wrist was a beacon to the criminals that you were a tourist, and you might be carrying a surfeit of cash. Pris did not want to meet any of the Eridani underworlds. By the law of the survival the fittest, the Eridani underworld, or what’s left of it would make anyone blanch.
Pris pulled her floaty suitcase to her room on the third floor. The door opened for her and she walked into Middle-class vacation style room. The door shut behind her. She pulled out the dildo from the suitcase. She turned the switch opposite, and the covering for the dildo unscrewed. When it came off a PC-1 personal satellite dish was revealed. She gathered the legs of the tripod and assembled the base. Then she opened the fabric collector. She dialed in the satellite that she wanted to hear. It was a worthless trid channel that originated from Alphacent. She was going to send and receive voice messages to Alphacent. This way they did not have to pay Hypercom’s exorbitant rates.
Then she took the clothing from her suitcase. She would put them back just before she left. She made sure that she had her room wristband on her, and not worn on the wrist. She left the Hotel and walked the three blocks to a left luggage service.
Left Luggage services have been around for centuries. Pris tried to remember. The Inns on the carriage highways held luggage if someone needed a secure place to store them. Now they are a convenience for tourists who did a little bit more shopping than was prudent.
Spies and other clandestine Operatives love left luggage storefronts. The one she was looking at was particularly great for her friends and colleagues.
The Left Luggage storefront calling itself Locker rentals had no attendant. Everything was mechanical or computer driven. She took out a mechanical key sent to her. She found her locker among the long lockers. She inserted her key and twisted the key. The door popped open. She reached in and just about had a heart attack when she did not find it. She did not feel the case at first. Something had made the case lean against the metal sidewall. She retrieved her case.
The case looked like a more substantial than the ordinary briefcase. Pris picked it up and wondered if she had the right case. This was not the massive case with which she was familiar with. This is what happens when there are useful border customs and immigration. It is harder for a sniper to get her equipment through. In the case of Eridani, a local man under the pay of Andrea Martin was ordered to get a sniper rifle. He went to a gunsmith. She was holding the fruits of that labor. She walked back to her hotel with the case carrying her new Sniper rifle.
When she got to her room, the first thing she did was open the case. This sniper rifle was broken into four sections. She put it all together. Her instruction was her experience with these kinds of weapons. In short order she was holding a short barrel, gas operated sniper rifle. Cradled in a foam filled box was the sniper scope. She put the scope on the gun. The last thing in the case was a box of fifty rounds for the rifle. These were standard darts.
While she was playing with the rifle, the room com went off. She found her self looking through the sniper rifle at the common com. She got up and picked up the com.
“Yes?”
“Casovedes, this is Turkey Shoot.”
“Go.”
“Did you get the tool?”
“Yes.”
“Do you like it?”
“Yes.”
“Did you read the package I sent you.”
“Yes.
“The Pendit building is, in fact, the Eridani Secret Service building. Daniel Owen’s office is on the sixth floor, fourth window pane from the right.”
“You sure that Daniel Owen is one of these super Agents.”
“They call them Special Agents.”
“Thank you. This is your last contact.
MARKING TIME
Even though the Eridani Marines did their jobs inside of metal skin, they still had to learn the the skill of marching. The first Sergeant had taken his lack of coordination in hand. By the end of boot camp Brian was the Recruit first sergeant. One of the first evolutions in marching was so easy it was used to give the Marines confidence. The step was called Marking Time. Brian never knew that you could make love while the both of you marked time.
He wondered how the First Sergeant was doing. The last he looked She was on a farm with a Former Marine. She had five children about her. Brian left her alone when he saw the wide smile plastered on her face when the youngest ran into her arms.
It seemed rather unfair. It seemed that she got more out of having the child than the man. The bond between mother and child was so profound. The bond between father and child could not compete with it, but he would like to know what it entailed.
Looking at the idyllic life his First Sergeant had was the closest he came to finding a wife and farming for the rest of his life. He would not trade his current position for that other life.
He was in the lobby of Hotel Clement marking time. He did not want to be in his suite without someone. He did not want that someone to be just anyone. Then he saw her.
She was an olive skinned, statuesque beauty. He stood stock still looking at the woman. She noticed him staring at her. She stopped and stepped over to Brian.
“Do I know you?”
“No, mademoiselle. If I knew you, I would prize that friendship.”
She turned to the Bellhops that were taking her bags with her.
“May I offer you dinner? Or Caviar and Champagne?”
“I’ve already ate. Let’s have Caviar and Champagne
in your room.”
“Let’s go.”
It started bothering him that he thought he knew this woman, but nothing was coming through. They went up to his floor and entered his suite.
The woman walked into his suite. She took off her wrap. She walked to the window that looked on Touchdown.
“My name is Vangloria Simpson. My husband is unable to perform his manly function. He allows me to seek out trysts as long as I am discreet. I never am discreet. Let’s have that caviar and Champagne.
Brian called down and ordered the caviar and Champagne. They told him ten minutes. They were there in six. Brian opened the bottle and poured a couple of flutes of Champagne. Then he opened the tin of caviar. She knew how to eat caviar. He had a spread of caviar on the toast
“Mister—”
“Butler. Brian Butler.
“In the lobby you had the look of someone who was looking for companionship tonight.”
“Yes, I was marking time. I have something to do in the morning.”
“Then can I have the night?”
She stood up from the small breakfast table. She turned away and opened the dress. The dress was a wrap. She lowered the wrap to just to the top of her buttocks. Her back looked like she worked out. She took down her hair. It fell in waves of blue-black hair down her back. Then she let her wrap fall to the floor.
Now he saw her butt. It was just as athletic as her back. Brian stood up and walked to her.
“What are you really?”
She turned and undid his belt. She undid his pants. She grabbed his manhood. She stroked it and touched it keeping it alive.
“I thought I could get away with it. What gave me away?”
Brian rubbed her back and squeezed her butt cheeks. Brian stood closer to allow her to remove the other clothes.
“You are much too trim and muscular to be an upper. When you do that you lose some of the breast. An upper woman has as big a bosom as she can grow.”
He reached for this woman’s breast. He squeezed it and rubbed it.
“You tell me what I am, and if you are right, you can do me all night.”
“You are a Stella. Quite probably an Agent of Stella Intelligence.”
She completed his unclothing. She took his hand and led him into the bedroom.
FLIGHTS OF FANCY
In the morning Brian had woken up with her scent everywhere. He did not mean her perfume. He meant the more animal scent that women produce in the heart of passion. The encounter he had last night was the most enigmatic. He had heard rumors of Stella, but he had attributed those to Alcohol.
Brian got up. He took a shower. He put on His gray ship’s work uniform. He did not put on the pull over mask. He put the pull over mask into the duffel bag along with the pistol given to him.
In another duffel he put in the remaining money. The duffels he set beside the door. He packed the suitcase. He left one thing out of the suitcase, and that was the Eliminator. He moved an end table taking off the lamp. He placed the dispenser can on the end table. He popped the top off of the can. He moved the suitcase over to the door. Then he depressed the spray top of Eliminator. He gathered his bags and stepped out of the suite.
If any police come to get evidence, they would get none, no blood, no fingerprints, no residue from sex. The can would not even be worthwhile. There was a real Eliminator pest control product. That was called a cold escape. He could not be ascertained from any evidence.
He walked through the lobby. He checked his bag for transport to his ship. Then with the remaining duffels he left the Hotel Clement.
SMELTER
Brian had Manolito drive over to the Smelter. The parking area was separated by a causeway. The causeway connected to the smelter building itself. The door looked flimsy. He continued walking down the causeway. Dag, his slave, and a couple of his paid guards came through the door. They walked toward Brian. He stopped short of them.
“That’s good enough. What’s with the Muscle Brains?”
Dag looked to his two paid guards. He smiled a toothless smile at Brian. “I feel so secure with them.”
“Really?” Brian did a snap kick to the man’s groin. The other guard tried to draw his weapon. Brian put a foot spear through that guard’s Left knee. Brian pulled out the Alphacent's pistol. He put a dart through each guard’s heart. Brian ran to the door that lead to ’the smelter.'
He came to the door. He had visions of trying to break down a security door and breaking something important. He decided to try the obvious. He turned the Knob, and it opened. Dag was only worried about his personal security. What could someone steal in a smelter? All gold ingots are put in the warehouse, which is five miles up the road. He walked into the Smelter. He saw three large ladles. Each one was parked against the wall which supported this walkway. He walked a little further on and saw the office. That was enough. He took a burner. He activated it and threw it through the offices' glass window. He left there as fast as he could
. He then dropped a burner into each ladle as he ran past. He ran to the center of the causeway. He ignited a burner and placed it on the pavement. Then he ran like the dickens.
Manolito was watching what heat softened metal and plascrete can do. As he heard the metal ladles drop he lifted his hands and put them on his head.”
Brian slid into the back seat. Manolito had to know if the plan had changed.
“Going to the basic car?”
“Yep. My report so far is that The truckers have three quarters of the gold already loaded.”
He put the pullover mask on his head. By the time they came to the generic blue car he was dressed entirely as a scout.
Brian moved from the limo to the generic blue car. Manolito occupied the driver's position. The car started, and Manolito put the Blue into the sky.
“You should talk to the Eridani Secret Service. We require ordinary looking cars that are not ordinary in reality.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“You take this one home. After all, you own it.”
“I cannot be caught with it. You know the places to destroy it.”
“To bad The Smelter is all gone.”
“That actually would’ve been convenient. Wait—I think we can get the same effect. How many Gallons of Radamite on this tub.“
“Tub, indeed. 12 Gallons.”
Was that a roll of telignite I saw in the trunk?”
“Yes.”
“Then I have a way of destroying this car. Let’s pay a visit on Dag before he runs.”
THE CURIOUS CONDITION OF JULIE BRIO
Julie Brio came back from lunch that day thoroughly convinced that she had been approached to give information by a spy. Everything that happened was on the Vid about how to recognize an attempt to suborn her. Then she realized that the man must have thought of himself as a Casanova. It might work on other worlds, but not here. She put her purse into the tall drawer in her desk.
She had to see someone about this. It needed someone who knew her and so would not throw out her fears. Rather than trust the intercom. She opened the communication door with Pam, Dan’s Personal Assistant.
“Pam, Is Dan in?”
“Yes.”
“Could I please see him?”
“Let me find out.” Pam picked up the desk com. She asked Dan a Few questions. Then the answer came by Dan opening his door. Julie entered his office. He invited her to sit on his one and only guest chair. Julie understood the difference between the two men in her life. To Brian, the job was all he wanted. For Dan, it was a step up the chain.
Julie sat in the guest chair.
“What can I do for you, Julie?”
“I want to run something by you. Brian isn’t…”
“He isn’t here. I heard you asking for his advice, and I heard him give you good advice. I will do the same thing for you. What is it?”
“I think I have been approached.”
“Approached to give secrets?”
/> “Yes.”
Dan asked no further questions. If he had a credible subject, he was supposed to get counterintelligence involved. Dan had a reliable subject. He heard her laugh at the scenarios that were for them to illustrate some techniques. She and Pam had gone through those scenarios. It could be that humor which rang Julie’s warning bells.
Dan picked up his intercom he pushed Pam’s button.
“Sir?”
“My compliments to Richard Rigoli I need to see him in my office now. Use the Special Agent Authority.”
Five minutes later Richard Rigoli was in Dan’s office. Richard saw Julie sitting in the only guest chair. “They tried the romance gambit?”
“I stopped asking questions when I realized what was going on.”
“Did he give you a name?”
“Harminio Andrews.”
Richard pulled out his Slate. He ran queries on the ID databases of the Allied Planets. Harminio Andrews simply did not exist. It merely meant he never used the name here before.
“Well that name does not ring a bell to my computers,” said Richard.
“I swear that is what he called himself. I have his business card.”
“Business card?” Richard acted weird.
“Yes,” said Julie.
“Do you still have it?”
“Yes.”
“That’s fantastic. How did Harminio react when you asked him for a business card,” asked Richard.
“At first he was not pleased.”
“He underestimated you, Julie. I think he thinks women are a useless bit of fluff. Well, Miss Brio. Let’s go. The director will want to get this information so she can make a decision.”
“I’ll make one for her.” Dan pushed a button which put the Secret Service Headquarters on lockdown. “Now let’s go to the Director.”
The two men and one woman walked to the elevators. They went to the top floor. They stepped inside the office suite of the Director of the Eridani Secret Service. The Director’s personal assistant was pointing to the door as they walked in. They entered the Director’s office directly. Carla looked at Dan and smiled.