by Paul Collins
‘I promise to be well-behaved,’ he said.
There was a sudden hammering on the door. Anneke opened it and a flunky rushed in. ‘Sir,’ he started, ‘there’s –’
‘Yes, I know. A Myotan attack.’
The flunky stared first at Maximus, then the ruined desk.
‘Security check,’ explained Anneke, her voice oozing alien tones.
‘About the Myotan attack?’ prompted Maximus.
‘Myotan? No, sir. There are no Myotans.’
Maximus frowned and turned to Anneke. ‘Then what’s going on?’
‘Sentinels, sir,’ the flunky answered. ‘Sentinels! They’ve blockaded Arcadia. And they’re going through the whole city, building by building, room by room.’
MAXIMUS had to play his cards exactly right. If he screwed up, one of two things could happen. First, Anneke Longshadow might escape with the e-pad that contained the first set of lost coordinates. For security reasons, he had not duplicated them. Secondly, he might get his head blown off by the explosive pendant Longshadow had hung around his neck.
Worse still, both things might happen.
Anneke, in her brilliant disguise as the Envoy, forced Maximus to stay two paces in front of her. Who else but the Envoy could have waltzed into Quesada’s headquarters, virtually unchallenged? Maximus made a mental note to remember what made the Envoy so powerful, his spookily alien mystique. Anneke had enveloped Maximus in a low-level shackle-field, which she could activate with a word. Right now he could walk and move fairly naturally, occasioning no suspicion in those they met. Indeed, one look at who was coming down the passage was enough for most of his Quesadan employees to find a detour.
Dammit. Are they going to let her walk out of the building with me? Where’s the Envoy? What’s holding him up? Maximus silently fumed.
Anneke, to her credit, kept to the main ramps. Nothing surreptitious or sneaky. Bold and in your face. Always the best way, though there was the risk of meeting the real Envoy.
As they descended, Maximus’s brain went into hyperdrive.
He faced several problems. Apart from staying alive, avoiding incarceration by Anneke and getting the e-pad back, he also had to deflect any search by RIM agents or that quasi-religious bunch of galactic vigilantes, the Sentinels. Their interfering and mysterious agenda would brook no delaying tactics on his part. Known for their absolute indifference to rank or authority, they would push and pry into every aspect of his operations since coming to Arcadia. And Maximus’s dealings could not withstand intense scrutiny.
He had to get off Arcadia. First, he had to break out of the Sentinels’ interdiction. Right now undoubtedly a dozen or so Sentinel vessels were surrounding Arcadia, permitting no ship to leave or arrive. Things would stay like that until they had satisfied themselves that all was above suspicion or found what they were looking for, whatever that was. Maximus had a nasty feeling that he was it.
Ah, the Myotans, another gambit on their part. Set the Sentinels on him and see what happens. He admired the sheer bravado of it. Of course, if the Sentinels didn’t find anything the Myotans would have to pay an exorbitant loser’s fee, but the boldness of their move would endear lesser Clans and Companies to them. Perhaps they were planning to form a splinter cartel.
Anneke jabbed Maximus in the back. ‘Stop daydreaming and watch where you’re going,’ she hissed under her breath. ‘The main entrance is that way.’
‘So it is.’ He hadn’t been daydreaming, just hoping she might be. He veered left, taking the main thoroughfare, passing confused employees and detachments of guards that moved at the double, saluting him as they passed. He nodded back, hoping, despite his short time here, they might puzzle over the fact that he never acknowledged salutes.
Probably too much to expect from the kind of blockheads Quesada enlisted as cannon fodder.
Then his heart leapt. He had caught sight of something two levels down, climbing the spiralling central ramp. He moved slightly, blocking Anneke’s view of the ascending Envoy.
Okay. This was it. Time for a brilliant ploy. One that left him in possession of the e-pad, terminated the accursed Rimmer once and for all, and allowed him to keep his head. Of course if he had to choose, one and three were more important than two.
‘So what are you going to do with me when you get me out of here?’ Maximus asked, adding verbal distraction.
‘Shut up and keep moving,’ said Anneke.
‘Just curious as to my fate,’ he countered.
Anneke did not reply. As they moved Maximus manoeuvred his body so that it was between her and the ramp railing. He wanted the Envoy to have the element of surprise, not that such a deadly killer needed it, but it meant there was more chance that Maximus would survive the encounter. He was capo of Quesada and did not want to become de capo.
As he was doing this Maximus registered the ornamental projections lining the balustrade. They were miniature pirang-pikes, weapons used by ancient Quesadan pirates.
Without moving his head, Maximus glanced over the railing. Another half turn and the Envoy would come into view. Meaning he needed to create a distraction, however slight, and soon. He prayed Long-shadow would fail to see the Envoy for a moment longer.
He stumbled, lost balance, and fell against the railing. As he did so, two things happened. One, the pendant chain caught on one of the curled hooks of the pirang-pikes and two, Anneke muttered the activating word of the shackle-field.
Instantly, Maximus went rigid, unable to move a muscle other than breathing. As he fell he heard a satisfying snip as the pendant chain parted.
Then all hell broke loose.
Maximus could not see the action. He heard the Envoy’s sudden deadly hiss, heard Anneke’s muttered curse and the sound of her gun being lifted and loosing off a hiss of compressed spray. She muttered more slang. Spiffle? The thinsword flashed in a blur. There was a clambering noise and silence, followed by a blinding flash. Luckily for Maximus, the shackle-field blocked the debris from the exploding pendant chain.
Almost immediately he was turned over and found himself gazing into the inscrutable alien face of the Envoy. Yellow insect eyes stared back, devoid of any human-like emotion. Bits of foam adhered to its mandibles. The Envoy was not as full of oxygen as a human, but was not immune to a thinsword. How lucky could Longshadow get?
Sensation and movement returned to Maximus’s limbs. Longshadow and her field generator must now be out of range. Damn.
As soon as his vocal cords were under his control Maximus shouted, ‘Get her! I’m fine. Get the e-pad!’
The Envoy was gone in a breathtaking blur of movement. Solicitous flunkies surrounded Maximus, helping him to his feet, supporting him till full neuro-muscular control returned. When it did he flung off his helpers with a scowl.
‘Seal the building! No one gets in, no one gets out! Move it!’
They scrambled to obey, or to get away from him and his towering rage.
Back in his office, Maximus brought himself up to date on the situation. As he suspected, the Sentinels had surrounded Arcadia. Not even a one-man flier could run their blockade. He would have to come up with a diversion.
But he had no maze of blind alleys, bureaucratic and electronic that he normally used to obscure his activities. He was too new here, too preoccupied with finding the lost coordinates. Apart from that, a routine examination would reveal he had been recently renovated, which would lead to an inevitable and immediate search for his true identity.
He was not ready to reveal to the galaxy that sub-lieutenant Maximus was now the official head of Quesada and the Cartel. No, he still had plans for Maximus, dedicated and rising RIM agent, and unofficial protégé of the recently murdered Commander Viktus.
An urgent banging made Maximus jump. He ordered the doors open. A flunky burst in, breathless.
‘Sir. RIM agents. They’re coming up!’
Maximus leapt to his feet. ‘I left orders that nobody was to get into this building!’
The flunky cowered beneath Maximus’s fury, averting his gaze. ‘Sir, they had search warrants.’
‘Warrants?’
His brain whirled. Warrants! Unheard of that an agency could secure warrants against the Five Companies. What did this mean? Did RIM have evidence or had they paid an almost defunct Trade and Securities Commission to obtain a warrant?
Or had Myoto done the unconscionable? Had they deeded RIM temporary auditing rights on a fellow Company? Compulsive auditing rights came with an automatic right to search and seize relevant documents.
Damn Myoto to hell! By the Galactic gods, he would see them ruined and in penury, if it was the last thing he did!
‘How long?’ he snapped at the sweating flunky.
‘How long w-w-what, sir?’
Maximus controlled his temper. The man had barely enough brain cells to be human.
‘How long till they get here? Into this office?’
‘Um … two minutes, maybe three.’ The man swallowed.
‘Thank you. Now get out.’
The flunky propelled himself out of Maximus’s office. Maximus ordered the doors shut and locked. He needed every precious second he could get, and he needed vital information. He contacted the Envoy, using their private and secure link.
‘Have you got the e-pad?’
‘Negative,’ came the flat response.
Damn the alien creature. Could it not at least pretend to be remorseful?
‘Call me as soon as you have it.’
He cut the connection. It was a pity he had had General Constantine’s neutronium document defaced with a molecular. It meant the e-pad Anneke had stolen contained the only known copy of the first set of lost coordinates. Otherwise, he would have remotely destroyed it, hopefully along with Anneke Longshadow.
So for now he would have to bluff the RIM agents. Not an easy thing to do, especially if Arvakur was in charge. A real by-the-numbers agent, that one.
Knowing he had less than ninety seconds left, Maximus hurried to his computer console to run a file deletion program, at the same time he activated a special virus designed to remove data from the hard drive. Then he scoured the room for evidence that would allow the agents to connect him to his other activities.
In a way, Anneke had done him a favour by stealing the e-pad. With it safely out of the building, the most incriminating piece of evidence was beyond the reach of his visitors.
He almost wished he could thank her personally, but expected that by now she was dead. He hoped so. A pounding on the doors told him the RIM agents had arrived.
He left them standing outside for a minute while he set up a neuron disruptor field from which he made himself immune. He would detonate it as a last resort – these things could go horribly wrong. He then told the super-tefloned diamandoid doors to open. Arvakur marched in, followed by three RIM agents and a Myotan Auditor General.
Maximus was outraged. He pointed a quivering finger at the Myotan. ‘What is he doing here?’
Arvakur shrugged, sitting down in a plush chair across from Maximus. He glanced down at the ruined desk, but didn’t comment on it. ‘It seems your books are not in order. I believe Cartel members have auditing rights?’
‘If the fee is paid,’ Maximus said cautiously.
The Myotan held out a document. Maximus glanced at it, realising it was an official auditing warrant. He glared at Arvakur. ‘That must have set you back a pretty penny.’
Arvakur nodded good-naturedly. ‘Money well spent. And if nothing comes of this then I will be looking for employment elsewhere soon.’
Maximus snorted. He almost liked the engaging young captain. Not that that would stop him from doing what he had to.
‘You will see, if you care to peruse the document, that we have full access rights to current and recent accounts.’
‘How recent?’
‘Two weeks.’
‘This is an outrage.’
‘Nevertheless,’ said Arvakur, sitting forward, ‘legalities must be observed.’
Maximus slumped back in his chair. Let them think he had bowed to the inevitable. He gestured his consent to Arvakur. The captain nodded to his team and they went to work, tapping into a Quesadan control panel set flush in one wall.
‘Does this search have anything to do with the sudden arrival of the Sentinels?’
Arvakur smiled. ‘Who can tell? The Sentinels move in mysterious ways, or so they say.’
One of the RIM agents was standing back. With a start Maximus realised he was conducting scans of the office. He suddenly came forward, whispering in Arvakur’s ear.
Frowning, Arvakur turned a flinty eye on Maximus. ‘You’ve been renovated in the last two weeks.’
‘Is that a crime?’
‘It might be an indication of one,’ said Arvakur, staring hard at Maximus, as if trying to divine Maximus’s original appearance.
And who knew? Maybe he could. Some people had built-in facial recognition wetware. Maximus shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.
‘You remind me of somebody. Somebody on Lykis Integer.’
‘Never been there,’ said Maximus, hoping he was not sweating.
‘Are you aware that renovation is considered sufficient prima facie evidence for temporary detention?’
‘Surely that ruling is out of date by at least two centuries?’
‘I believe it is still on the statute books.’
The scanning agent continued his passes on Maximus. RIM’s detection technology was second to none. By now he would have his height, build, dental workup and a rudimentary map of his neuro profile. There was no way Maximus could allow that sort of information to leave the building.
‘Would you be kind enough to supply me with some DNA? There are hairs and skin flakes on this beautiful carpet – Exorian, by the look of it – but the analysis will be more precise if we get it directly from the source.’
Maximus waved his hand casually. ‘As you wish. I have nothing to hide.’
‘Commendable attitude, Mr Brown.’
He motioned the scanning agent forward to collect a sample. The man reached into his tunic and brought out a small device that would take a microscopic drop of Maximus’s blood, by forced osmosis, without breaking the skin.
Time for desperate measures, thought Maximus as he braced himself.
He detonated the neuron disruptor. Arvakur sensed something. He screamed ‘Down!’ and threw himself to the floor, but the energy field was already fuzzing the room. Even though Maximus was ready, the wave sent him flying, too. Being prepared however meant that he recovered first.
His five visitors were lying on the floor, dead or dying. The scanning device, along with its memory, was slag. He wasted no time on his victims. He had come up with an escape plan, a way to elude the Sentinels’ spatial interdiction of Arcadia. A daring plan always meant danger, but danger was his lifestyle statement.
All he needed was the e-pad, and molecular solvent.
His private comm link, buried in the flesh behind his left ear, buzzed, and the Envoy’s hissing voice came on line. ‘I have it.’
Maximus felt a wave of relief flood through him. He did not bother to ask for details of Anneke’s long overdue demise. He would save that till he was off world and safe.
‘Meet me at Code Location fourteen.’
He switched off the connection. Only now did he survey his handiwork. Maximus felt no remorse, just a faint misgiving about the repercussions of killing RIM agents. If anyone wanted to stir up a hornet’s nest, this was the way to do it. He might come to regret this action, but history was full of regrettable actions, by those strong and daring enough to grab the reins of history and drive. Well I, Maximus Black, am one such person.
He stepped over the bodies of the RIM agents on his way out, closing the door behind him.
ANNEKE voice-activated the shackle field on the mole and opened up with her spray gun weapon as soon as she spotted the Envoy. Unbelievably, the creature slewed off the spray.
Aliens!
As her captive hit the floor she heard shouts and running footsteps behind her. Time to cut and run. On pure instinct, she vaulted over the spiked railing, noting that the explosive pendant was now attached to one of the spikes. Pity about that.
She triggered it anyway, still mid-air when it exploded.
The spiralling ramp encircled her, blurring as she fell. She had fifteen storeys to drop, seven-tenths of Earth-standard gravity – half the strength of her home. Unfortunately, it was still too much for her to survive a fall from that height.
She dumped the Envoy persona and activated the sticky fields, forcing them into the side of each ramp she fell past, dragging her hand and foot fields through the denser static fields that constituted solid matter.
Meanwhile, Quesadan troopers dotted around the great spiral ramp took shots at her. Anneke couldn’t return fire – she needed as much frictional interference as possible. Pity she didn’t have an inertial dampening field; then she could have dropped and fired a few return shots!
At least the speed of her fall made her a difficult target. It also made the floor rushing towards her look pretty deadly.
Anneke braced herself for impact, relaxing her legs muscles and preparing to tense at the same time. Then – BAM! – she hit, slumping straight into a falling roll. She was on her feet in seconds, though the impact jarred every bone in her body. But she was still breathing – a bonus.
Not pausing to congratulate herself, she continued on using the translated momentum from the fall and roll to launch herself into a high velocity sprint towards the main entrance. She sent off several pulse shots as she ran, scattering mystified guards. Orders to seal the building hadn’t arrived as yet. All the guards knew was a crazy woman like a missile on legs was bearing down on them, shooting as she approached.
Moments later Anneke shot through the entrance to the outside. Soon she was a block away, then two blocks, hugging shadows, activating her cloak’s background camouflage, piling on more distance. Whatever else happened she needed to download the contents of the e-pad. After that, she was, technically, expendable.