Mindguard

by Andrei Cherascu

  “You know, Tammy, if you’d just use perfume like a normal girl every once in a while, it would really help me more easily know it’s you when you’re sneaking up on me.” Villo had been the first who had called her Tammy and, much to her dismay, everyone else followed; everyone except the commander, who still called her Ms. Faber.

  “You don’t seem to be having any problems with that anyway. How’d you know it was me?”

  “I recognized you by your huffing and puffing.”

  He got up from his Lotus position, turned around and smiled. “Don’t tell me you’ve even washed that thing,” he said, pointing at her head of curly hair.

  “What can I say, it’s a special day.” She rolled her eyes. “If the commander wants girly, I’ll give him girly.”

  Villo laughed and Tamisa was overjoyed. She loved making him laugh.

  “Boy, you really took it to heart, didn’t you?” Villo said.

  “It cost me six months on the bench. I’ve got a good mind to punch him in the face when I see him.”

  “Yeah, don’t do that.” He chuckled. “So, when is he expecting you?” he asked.

  “Well, he sort of is already.”

  “And you’ve come to me for a last minute pep talk?”

  “Well, you’re the fountain of wisdom around here.”

  “Take a deep breath,” he said, mocking a didactic tone, “think of the distance between what is you and what is your mind…and then try not to punch our commander in the face.”

  “That’s why I always come to you,” she said, smiling. He responded with a wink, one of his familiar gestures.

  “Seriously though,” she said, staring off into the endlessness of the sea, “what do you think he’ll tell me?”

  Villo shrugged. “I don’t think he’ll tell you anything, I’ll think he’ll just assign you to a team and a mission. You’ll probably be in action the day after tomorrow.”

  “I can never really tell what he thinks of me,” she said.

  “Well, that’s sort of the point. Ideally, he shouldn’t be able to tell what you think of him either. But we all know you like to wear your heart on your sleeve.” She didn’t answer, she just stared at the ground, lost in thought. “Oh come on, Tammy, I’m just teasing you. You know I love that about you. It’s your charm. It’s what makes you stand out among these robots. If anything, I’m willing to bet the commander likes that about you too.”

  “You think?”

  “It would explain why he still keeps you around in spite of yourself.” She smiled. “Plus, you’re eye candy,” he added, grinning like the big bad wolf from an old children’s story. She threw a punch his way, aiming straight for his face which was there one second and gone the next in a lightning-fast movement. She followed it up with two more hooks, both missing their mark.

  “Still faster,” he teased. It was a game they always played. In truth, they were equally fast but they had gotten so used to each other’s reactions that one could always anticipate the other’s attack.

  “If you children are done playing I would appreciate if Ms. Faber would grace me with her company.” The holosense image of their commander was standing right beside them in full size.

  “Well, sir, I’m doing impromptu psychological therapy just to prepare her for her meeting with you. You have a way of bringing that out in people.” As usual, Commander Anderson had no reaction to Villo’s humor, though he had admirable patience with it. He didn’t even look at the instructor, but continued to stare at Tamisa. His blue eyes always seemed sad. Somehow, that didn’t make him any less intimidating.

  “I’ll be right there sir,” she said and his holosense image disappeared into thin air without answering.

  Tamisa gave Villo a look that said ‘Ouch, I really screwed up this time’ but he just winked and, with a sign of the head, told her to get going.

  ●

  The commander’s office was almost empty. It was furnished only with a desk and two chairs, proof of the little time he spent in it. A very active man, he preferred the confines of the training rooms and he very much enjoyed the company of his men. Whenever he did use his office it was always for private conversations with one of his men. These conversations were always brief and to the point. Thus, he was in no need of additional furniture or decorations. Tamisa wished there were at least a vase or a painting on the wall, anything to lessen the anxiety she was feeling standing in front of her leader, waiting for him to speak.

  “I’m glad you finally made it, Ms Faber,“ he said coldly.

  “I am sorry for the delay, sir. It won’t happen again!”

  “That’s fine, cadet,” he said, his voice gentle all of a sudden. “You were wise to compose yourself before coming to talk to me. I would have been disappointed if you hadn’t.”

  He sounded like he knew exactly how angry and frustrated she had been before Villo helped her overcome that barrier. How could he know? she thought, but then immediately answered her own question: Because in spite of appearances the man is centuries old and has probably been in a similar situation hundreds of times before. She wondered how often he might have called a woman to this office to tell her to pack her bags. That thought made her knees get weak and she almost fell down right in front of him. When he smiled, like a loving grandfather, she nearly let out a sigh of relief. She was glad she didn’t. It would have been very embarrassing.

  “See, that’s what I meant,” he said, pointing to a rebellious strand of hair which had fallen on her face during her play fight with Villo. “Your hair is lovely, it was stupid of you to cut it off.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, only to please him.

  “All right,” he said abruptly. “As of right now you are on active duty, congratulations!” He shook her hand and his handshake fit his personality: firm but gentle.

  “Thank you, sir!” she said, still in awe of the very informal nature of the entire meeting. A handshake, and you’re off to the trenches, she thought. She wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

  “I will assign you to a team and a first mission. Meet me in two hours in the debriefing room.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “That will be all,” he said, but his posture and his attitude suggested he was expecting her to say something. It was like he knew that she was still trying to work up the courage to ask him one single question.

  “Sir?”

  “Mm hmm…”

  “I was wondering if I might ask you something.”

  “The reason I grounded you for six months is simple,” he said, anticipating her question. “You are not a man, you are a woman. You came here with a lovely head of hair and then you foolishly shaved it off. You are a girl, not a boy so you must look like a girl and not a boy. Simple, isn’t it?” He saw that she was not entirely convinced. “Ms. Faber, if you want to be like the male cadets you are to match them in discipline, skill and intelligence, not looks.”

  “I just thought, sir, that having no hair is going to prove more useful in hand-to-hand combat.”

  “If you are ever in a situation of hand-to-hand combat where you allow your hair to become a disadvantage, then we have an entirely different problem. Understand?”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “Now, go!”

  “Yes, sir!”

  ●

  “He’s right, you know, once you are an Enforcer on active duty, you should be able to be completely naked, with your hair down to your waist, and still be more dangerous than your enemy.”

  To Tamisa’s comfort, she found Villo in the briefing room, apparently also part of her team. She assumed he was most likely leading it and wondered if he had already known they would be partnering up when she had spoken to him outside.

  “Do you often imagine me naked, with my hair flowing down to my waist?” she whispered in his ear. Villo was the only man in the world with whom she could ever feel comfortable kidding around this way. She knew he would never think of it as a weakness.

  “I was trying
to make a point,” he said, acting exasperated. Tamisa took a seat next to him at the big oak table. Usually, the academies used furniture made from a synthetic material called Moradium, produced on three planets within the IFCO. It imitated oak from Old Earth. Since this academy was situated on Old Earth, they had the luxury of using the real thing. She looked around to see who else was on her team. There were seven others there; six of them she didn’t know very well, but the seventh was a former cadet she had trained with, named Akio Tahara. They had initially been called up to active duty together, before Tamisa had been sent back to the proverbial showers.

  Akio welcomed her on the team. There was no time to catch up, though. Thomas Anderson quickly made his appearance, joined by his brother. The Anderson brothers were known to almost never brief the teams personally, which meant the mission was going to be important.

  “Good day, gentlemen,” said the commander. He paused for a few seconds. Then, looking at Tamisa: ”Lady.”

  Tamisa wondered if that had been a sample of the commander’s rarely witnessed sense of humor. She was not amused. Before the commander or his brother even said anything, everyone’s retinal insertions displayed a life-size, three-dimensional image of Educator Horatio Miller, dressed in an elaborate custom-made suit, his smile as confident as it was static. No one said anything. Tamisa was sure that the others were equally surprised. They waited for their commander to speak.

  “You should all be familiar with this man but, just to refresh your memories, this is Educator Horatio Miller: scientist, businessman, adventurer. Take a long hard look at him. He is the enemy!”

  “If I may, Commander, since when do we get involved in affairs of the private sector?”

  The voice belonged to a young soldier who appeared to be only about six or seven years older than Tamisa. His face was hidden behind a bushy brown beard which emphasized his sapphire blue eyes. Tamisa found out that he was the mission’s timekeeper, in charge with planning and producing mission strategies and timelines. Timekeepers were an integral part of every unit. These non-combatant enforcers were effectively the brains behind every mission. They collected data, planned the strategies, directed operations and coordinated the team’s movements from the field bases.

  “We don’t,” the commander answered.

  “Sir?” The timekeeper was twirling his beard as his mind frantically worked to analyze the situation. “Educator Miller’s involvement in political affairs is strictly confined to financial support of the Freethink Party.”

  “Indeed, his involvement so far has been minimal. However -”

  “He is carrying information outside the confines of the IFCO,” the timekeeper guessed. The commander nodded, satisfied with the young man’s deduction. “We have reason to believe he is preparing to cross an information package outside the Federation.”

  “So what do we care what he does with his private information?” Akio Tahara asked. “As a businessman, he probably often employs thoughtprotection agencies to help him cross sensitive data securely.”

  Within the Federation, planets were protected by neurocodecs, devices that guarded the brain against telepathic aggression. They were basically simpler versions of mindguards. Though most places benefitted from such technology, there were still plenty of areas which were exposed to telepathic aggressions. Such aggression was rare due to the severe punishments connected with it, but a man like Horatio Miller had to take extra precautions. Businessmen of his caliber often employed the mindguards provided by neurological data protection agencies in order to compensate for the lack of complete neurocodec coverage.

  “Perhaps you should brush up on your neurological data transportation law, Tahara,” Martin Anderson said sharply. He was displeased, but the timekeeper quickly came to his colleague’s aid: “According to Paragraph 7, Chapter 29 of the Transportation Law of 2321, only government-approved information may be crossed beyond the borders of the IFCO, into the desert. No man may cross private information. Any information package which leaves the confines of the IFCO is considered political and thus relevant to the government and the Council of Presidents.”

  “So,“ Thomas Anderson added, “in effect, Educator Miller is crossing unauthorized political information. That makes him a threat to interstellar security.”

  “Sir, you can’t honestly believe Educator Miller is working with desert dwellers?!”

  “And why should he be above suspicion, Mr. Tahara?” Receiving no answer the commander continued: “It has come to our attention that Educator Miller is planning to cross an information package across the Djago Desert.” The group let out a collective gasp. The Djago Desert was notorious for being one of the most dangerous regions of space in the man-inhabited Universe. “Our sources inform us that Educator Miller has purchased the services of the Ayers-Ross Thoughtprotection Agency for this particular venture.”

  “Never heard of’em,” said an older Enforcer with a bald head and an impressive goatee, whose name Tamisa couldn’t recall.

  “As in Kinsey Ayers?” the timekeeper asked.

  “No, his grandson Sheldon,” Martin answered.

  “So what do we know about him?” the man with the goatee asked.

  “Well,“ Martin said, “He’s considered the best mindguard in the world. He’s not very active, however, and he rarely accepts missions anymore. We should consider his involvement in this a sign that it is a very delicate affair. In recent years he has spent most of his time doing independent research in various topics, most notably the history of Old Earth.”

  “His grandfather was also a historian,” the timekeeper said.

  “Correct. After retiring as a mindguard.”

  “Oh, ok,” the goateed man said, “runs in the family then. What about the company? If they use the best mindguard in the world why haven’t I heard of’em?”

  “Well, they are a very small company. Their services are restrictively expensive and they make a rigorous selection of the cases they accept. Ayers-Ross is also one of the few companies in the world that doesn’t employ artificial mindguards at all. Strictly human.”

  “If they are so careful with the cases they accept, why are they getting involved in something that’s illegal? Villo asked.

  “Good question,“ Martin said. “That has yet to be determined. We must assume that they are aware they will be aiding the Educator in criminal activity. These companies usually have at least one employee who is responsible with analyzing the legal implications of the missions.”

  “We have information that suggests they will be exiting IFCO borders in a little over two weeks,” the commander said. “This gives us ample time to intercept them. We will attempt a diplomatic approach first. I have scheduled a meeting with Educator Miller, where I will personally discuss the matter with him.”

  The whole team had a look of surprise. If the commander himself gets involved then there must be more to this story than he is telling us,” Tamisa though.

  She remembered the man’s quick execution of Kaye Wright more than a decade ago. He had chosen to kill him personally, with his own bare hands. That too had been a message, and the population of Aanadya had understood it. This memory made her realize how much time had passed and how far she had come.

  “So what if he denies everything?” the timekeeper asked.

  “It doesn’t matter, we have solid information that confirms the transportation.”

  “May I ask the source?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  The timekeeper was stunned, almost offended. Information was never classified in the Enforcement Unit. With the exception of cadets, everyone had equal access to information, from the high commander and his lieutenant to the field unit commanders, the timekeepers and soldiers. It was considered an important factor in the Unit’s success.

  The process of becoming an Enforcer was so difficult that those who succeeded were deemed completely trustworthy. Their full knowledge of any situation was vital to their cohesive functioning. In i
ts more than two centuries of existence, there had never been an act of betrayal. This loyalty stemmed, in great part, from the respect and the trust Commander Anderson inspired to his troops. That was why it was so shocking for the team when he refused to divulge his source.

  Villo was the only one who dared to ask for an explanation. “Why not, sir?”

  “I’m sorry, Mr Kantil,” the commander said, “I’m afraid this particular information is under ‘exclusive classification’.” The team stared at each other in disbelief. Only Villo held the commander’s gaze, before turning to look at Martin Anderson. “Yes, sir,” he said coldly, for nothing else could be said in the situation.

  ‘Exclusive Classification’ meant that a certain piece of information could be known by no one other than the commander and his first lieutenant. It was a part of protocol established at the formation of the Enforcement Unit, back when it was still called the United Earth Army. It had been largely forgotten due to the policy of shared access to information. Villo later told Tamisa that ‘exclusive classification’ had, to his knowledge, never been used before.

  “Should I prove unsuccessful in convincing Educator Miller to abandon this information transport,” the commander continued, “then you need to prepare to go into action in two weeks. Timekeeper Kernis will set up a timeline. Use these two weeks for intense training. With the exception of Mr. Muench - he pointed at the man with the goatee - none of you have been to the Djago Desert. It is a difficult place. Field Unit commander will be Ms. Tamisa Faber.”

  Tamisa almost fell off her chair. The other team members were speechless. Only Villo didn’t seem surprised.

  “Sir, with all due respect,” said a large man with a shaved scalp, “she is on her first mission, she -”

  “Do you have an objection against my order, Mr. Calladan?” The enforcer looked away. He was obviously displeased but he didn’t want to anger the commander. “No, sir.”