The Intruder Mandate: The Farthest Star from Home: a military sci-fi suspense novel

by William Cray

  “You did this?” He asked.

  Duran nodded then walked over to the vanity that Asa Rachenko had watched her husband cut up her face on. Sitting on top was a collection of decorative dolls and other antique trinkets that held some unknown sentimental value to the Rachenkos. The gathering of tiny cherubs and delicate little girls smiled on through the blood and skull fragments spattering them and interspersed between them.

  A casually discarded ID was on top of the vanity. Duran picked it up, examining the red and black logo above a holo-image of Daren Rachenko. With his thumb he wiped away the blood spattered logo revealing the lettering of its issuing entity, Triton Mechanics.

  Duran looked over the ID carefully, then called out to Floss. “We’re leaving.”

  “What about the crime scene? This is your investigation, Agent Duran.”

  Duran snarled, and Floss took a half a step back. “There’s nothing we can do for these people. I have what I need. Let’s go.”

  Delk looked on incredulously as the two walked out. “You son of a bitch Duran,” he called out. “I’m filling a formal on this. This is bullshit.”

  12

  New Meridian City

  Hebes Chasma Trench, Mars

  Floss’s car zoomed across the travelway, along the north side trench, towards the city’s industrial sector. Floss had commandeered a new Constabulary car from two responding officers at the Rachenko apartment. After transferring their collection of odds and ends into the new car he sent the mangled old one back to headquarters along the travelway on auto-drive. The other officers were put off, but Duran had pressed the urgency and the pressure had won over.

  The horror of Daren Rachenko’s residence wasn’t far from Triton Mechanics, taking just a few minutes to reach the conglomerate’s main complex imbedded along the trench wall. Duran removed the red spattered vest and pulled on his redcoat over the remnants of his torn clothing and bloody rags, straightening his appearance. He looked in the car mirror to ensure he was less soiled than he felt but for an instant Daren Rachenko stared back at him.

  Rachenko’s skull had fractured into a hundred shards and fleshy lumps. His wife had looked on as her husband’s face disintegrated and his body collapsed. She couldn’t understand what had happened to her husband, and no one would ever fully explain it too her. Why he turned into a murderer in the span of a night. No one could.

  Duran could have tried to bring her a shallow reasoning, but she would never see the truth from him. She would only see the man who pulled the trigger and shattered her husband. The car slowed, and Duran leaned back reasserting himself against the doubts. There was still hard work ahead, and no one else would pick up the guidon if he left it on the blood stained floor of Daren Rachenko’s apartment. Duran closed the mirror.

  The significance of the connection between Daren Rachenko, Triton Mechanics and the Intruder was not lost on Duran. Triton was a consortium of companies that held many of the Emperor’s technological secrets. Seeing the warehouse manifest two nights ago, then the Intruder interest in Daren Rachenko could be a huge break. What he didn’t know was if Rachenko knew the top-secret conversion process that transformed the materials on the warehouse’s manifest into the pliable luminous tritanium and the complex nano-coil structure that could create a cloaking field. If the Intruder had penetrated Triton, it would have access to an advanced engineering firm capable of building virtually anything. Even if the Intruder had learned the secret of the tritanium transformation process, he could plate the exterior of a mind control array, making it invisible to the naked eye and almost impossible to find without specialized equipment.

  Duran scanned the Chasm, lit by the exterior reflectors angling the thin rays of distant Sol into the trench interior. Constructing a full mind control array inside the city by one single Intruder would be almost impossible. But the complex superstructure of beams and girders bracing the city created a myriad pattern of suspended buildings and travelways interlocking the city together. It would make finding an antenna nest with luminous tritanium plating highly improbable. That antenna could be hanging anywhere within the city right now, and Duran wouldn’t know any better until the surge of power blanketed the city and drowned its residents in the will of the Intruder.

  Duran carried a small hand held Alpha-wave detection device in addition to his ability to sense the Intruder influence, but he didn’t have any equipment for detecting an active cloaking field. He knew someone who might, but first things first though.

  The requisitioned police cruiser pulled up to the front of the Triton Mechanics building, embedded in the trench walls. As they climbed out of the car Duran glanced over at his new ‘partner’.

  Floss had remained silent during the journey to Triton. They had left only moments after finding the Triton ID. Captain Delk fumed as Duran bolted for the car without so much as giving an explanation. Pulling rank and abandoning the mess obviously rankled Floss, but it was just one more thing he would have to live with today as long as the two were paired together.

  They entered the front of the Triton building with its large clear plaz angled architecture. Two Triton model P-Tek’s hunkered at each corner of the room, sweeping the lobby with electronic eyes and scanners. The security presence was standard for most Imperial high security buildings but most of the systems had been emplaced after construction, giving it the feel of guns bolted onto a battleship. The P-Teks were such an overt sign of an aggressive posture that they almost seemed rude. The long security corridor, while inviting and aesthetically pleasing, was a choke point. A kill zone lined with murder holes. Duran was sure even more complex security devices lurked within the walls.

  Duran walked directly to a terminal mounted near the security desk. A stylish, automated assistant evolved in front of them in a silent swirl of light and the image of the perfect receptionist formed to greet them in a smooth electronic voice. “Good morning gentlemen. I’m Hanna. Welcome to Triton Mechanics.” The image turned its head towards Duran. “Major Duran, it is good to see you again.” The image smiled warmly then turned to face Floss. “How may I help you today?”

  Floss looked at Duran. “Major Duran? You’ve been here before?”

  Duran shook his head. “No. Not here. But it seems to know me from a previous life.” He held up his ID towards the optical scanner behind the image of Hanna. “Does Daren Albert Rachenko office out of this building?”

  The image made a face of examining the ID then replied, “Is this part of an investigation Special Agent Duran?”

  “Yes. All I need to know is if he works here?”

  “Thank you for presenting your ID. Yes, Daren Rachenko is employed here, but he is not in yet this morning. I do not show you with a scheduled appointment for today. Would you like me to schedule one for you with Mr. Rachenko?”

  “No thank you…” Duran said before she finished. “I would like to speak with his supervisor immediately.”

  The image was polite, but a stubborn slave to her programming. “Is this part of an official investigation?”

  “Yes. And if you ask me again I will say yes. This is an urgent matter.”

  Still smiling like someone had just given her a kitten on a warm summer day at the beach, she replied. “Thank you. I will contact Mr. Rachenko’s immediate supervisor, Mr. Boloat Ting, and let him know you wish to speak to him.”

  A moment later, still utterly pleased with her evident ability to satisfy everyone that came before her whether they were grateful or not, the automated receptionist intoned, “Mr. Ting will see you. Please wait here Special Agent Duran and Mr. Ting will arrive momentarily. Thank you.” The receptionist faded, still displaying the evident glee of her usefulness.

  Floss reached into his redcoat, pulling out his percom, checking it as it hummed. “Its Cole. Word’s out. He wants us back at the Constabulary, trip.”

  Duran nodded.

  They waited in the foyer until a very tall thin boned man, surrounded by a full body powered micro-skeleto
n arrived through the security corridor. The micro-skeleton conveyed him across the lobby with a long limbed swing of legs and arms, approaching with an exaggerated gait. The man inside was imbedded with diodes and sensors piercing his skin in places with a thin vein like structure of the powered mechanism lining his delicate exterior. The skin was stretched and blotched with analgesics in some places. The micro-skeleton looked like a medieval torture device stretching the man to the breaking point, but the ambling creature came right up to Duran and Floss with no apparent physical discomfort.

  The sight could have been disturbing if one had never seen a human born and raised in a near-zero G environment, then transplanted to a planetoid with much higher relative gravity. Most humans raised in a low gravity threshold, such as a small planetoid or an Emperor class superlight, would spend their entire lives in the comfort of their low stress environment. If one were changing gravity wells, it was best to go from high to low, rather than what this Mr. Ting had done, by going from almost zero to medium level gravities. Such a transition was stressful on the body and required significant assistance such as the micro-skeleton, to function normally. It was such a commitment that every part of their life had to be regulated and monitored. Duran identified with the man and his commitment. No one else in the universe did this on his or her own accord. Only in the service of the Emperor would men and women consent to such burdens.

  The rickety man grimaced with a dour expression and said through a modulated voice, “I’m Boloat Ting. I just heard about Daren. I’m as shocked as anyone. Forgive me for not extending my hand.”

  Duran nodded. “Of course Mr. Ting, I understand... I hope you could answer some questions for us.”

  Tings encompassed head made an exaggerated forward and back movement in agreement and modulated, “I will tell you what I can, but I did not really know him well. I only came here a few months ago from Emperor Tybus and knew him only professionally. There was no indication of any trouble or personal problems in his records. Perhaps you should speak to other employees who knew him for longer than I. All will be made available to you of course.”

  Duran nodded, “Thank you Mr. Ting, perhaps later. But I would like to inquire about his work.”

  “Oh. I am not sure of the relevance but, of course. I will tell you what I can within security. Do you believe Triton Mechanics was related somehow? We have tightened our security due to the increased threats, but we thought it was only a precaution.”

  “What threats Mr. Ting?” Floss asked.

  “We received a directive from our Corporate Headquarters ordering an increase of our security protocols for our facility here. The threat was not specific to us, but a general warning of possible terrorist activity.”

  Floss looked at Duran with an accusatory expression but Duran resumed the questioning.

  “Mr. Ting, what was Daren Rachenko’s job title?”

  “Daren was our Chief Design Engineer for Propulsion-Safety for our shipbuilding division here on Mars. His employment records indicate he had been in that position for almost two years. I’m sorry…Daren’s wife… Asa I believe. She seemed like such a kind woman, very pretty. I met her at the Cannis Day party. Is she all right? We haven’t heard.”

  Floss looked at Duran as he spoke. “Mrs. Rachenko has been through a lot this morning and she is in the best of hands.”

  “Oh dear…please tell her we are thinking about her if you speak to her. We are a family here and the company takes care of its own.”

  Floss nodded.

  “Mr. Ting…” Duran interrupted. “What project was Daren working on?”

  Ting raised one micro skeleton hand to his chin rest. “Well several actually, but I’m afraid I’m not sure that I am authorized to give out that information without approval. You understand don’t you?”

  Duran placed his hands on his hips, pulling open his redcoat as he did. Tings eyes went wide at the thin stain of blood on Duran’s chest. Duran looked back up at him with the piercing blue of his enhanced eyes. “Perhaps we could discuss this someplace else, your office, or at M.C.E. maybe. Time is a factor here.”

  “My office is perhaps the more convenient option, yes. Please… follow me.” The rickety man invited them through the corridor.

  After following the great striding mechanism that conveyed Mr. Ting, they arrived in his office. It was an unconventional office with large spaces, and a series of articulated aids to compensate for his lack of gravity acclimation. His workspace and desk were angled and he sat behind it by resting on the haunches of his micro-skeleton. He took several quick breaths from a machine set up below his desk, then shuffled some data aside on his desk. The angle of the desk prevented Duran from seeing what was being displayed. Ting scanned the information, begging a moment from Duran.

  Finally Ting, replied. “Before I say anything, may I ask a question?”

  Duran responded. “If it will speed the process.”

  “Special Agent Duran, I have a listing in our security clearances for a Major Rory Duran, Imperial Special Studies Group. Are you one in the same?”

  Duran said nothing only nodding, seeing Floss look in his direction through the corner of his eye.

  “Your security clearance with our firm was updated less than a year ago and does not come up for review for another three years. Your association with the Commonwealth Ministry of Codes and Enforcement confuses me.”

  Duran replied, “I’m currently detached to a counter-terrorism task force within M.C.E.”

  Floss finally turned away from Duran as Ting continued to review his data.

  Ting nodded. “Oh…of course I see. Terrorism. Is this related to the recent threats? Something my company should know about to protect our employees from another tragedy? Goodness, was Daren a victim of the threats?”

  Duran interjected. “I am trying to determine the threat and my security information is in the strictest confidence Mr. Ting.”

  “Yes, yes…I understand. We both work for the same boss. We are on the same team. What are your questions?”

  “The projects Mr. Ting. What projects was Mr. Rachenko working on?”

  “Daren was working on design changes for the Emperor Phannis repair. Power transformers for the ships Transference drives, the couplings mostly. Nothing highly technical or dangerous.”

  “The Emperor Phannis?” Floss asked.

  “We do remote operations here Lieutenant Floss. Our redesign work is mimicked at our actual repair facilities elsewhere within in the Empire… well the Commonwealth I guess is more appropriate. The Emperor Phannis will arrive out of Transference in Epsilon Eradani in a few months. Our repair techniques are recorded here and transmitted where they will be implemented at our remote dry docks around Eridani-Terra. The project will take around six months to complete. We are nearing the final stages. It is quite amazing to watch, although without the proper enhancements our virtual dry dock here is merely a gaggle of men waving their hands in the air in a vast empty room.”

  Duran cut off the banalities. “I'm sure the scope of your company’s operations are impressive Mister Ting, but was your firm doing any work with luminous tritanium that Daren Rachenko would have been involved with?”

  Boloat Ting became quiet with the mentioning of the secretive material, “Not currently.”

  “Not currently, but in the past?” Duran replied.

  “Yes. In his previous position with Triton.” Ting said secretively. “Our firm has done much work with luminous tritanium for military applications as I am sure you are aware in your previous association with us.”

  Duran nodded, “Did Daren Rachenko know the conversion process to activate the luminous properties?”

  Ting fidgeted with his desk, taking in another breathing treatment before standing up from his haunches, rising behind his desk, stalling for time. “Can I see your identifications again gentlemen?”

  Floss and Duran both produced them. Ting looked them over carefully, even though Duran was convinced he coul
dn’t tell the difference between a bad fake and a good one.

  Floss reassured him. “Mister Ting, this information is very important to our investigation. We will keep anything you tell us in the strictest of confidence. This is part of an ongoing investigation.”

  Duran waited in silence, already knowing the answer from Tings expression.

  Ting nodded. “Yes he knew.”

  Within a few minutes the car sped out of the Triton garage, Floss’s percom still humming in agitation. Floss pressed the router and the car headed off to headquarters, accelerating in the sparse traffic.

  “Imperial Special Studies Group, Duran? You work for the Emperor?”

  Duran was about to blow off the question, but there was sincerity in Floss. He seemed to be a good cop and was just doing his job. Duran had not been truthful, but it was necessary. Floss would have to live with the answers he got.

  “Listen Lieutenant, who I work for isn’t important.”

  “The Emperor isn’t popular around here in case you didn’t know.” Floss replied. “What about M.C.E.? You don’t work for them do you? Is this a military op?”

  “What I do has been mandated by the Commonwealth.” Duran turned to Floss, the two men now facing. “I know you don’t like my methods, but I am uniquely suited to find who we are all looking for. What is happening here has happened before in other places and I am trying to stop it before it gets much much worse. I am sorry about what happened at the apartment. It was a tragedy.”

  Floss nodded. “I don’t understand any of this, maybe I’m not supposed to.” He hesitated. “But I think you saved that woman.”

  Duran said nothing, only looking away into the chasm.