Sungrazer

by Jay Posey

  Lincoln tried not to panic. The only devices they couldn’t disassemble were the skeeters, and they were both hidden in the gift. The present had been carefully chosen, and wrapped identically to one Elliot had given her before. Elliot’s expectation was that, given their relationship and Selah’s familiarity with the package, it would escape further scrutiny. It was why he’d made a point to present the gift to her in the lobby, knowing that she wouldn’t pass through the checkpoint. Apparently he had either underestimated her zealousness for her job, or overestimated the level of trust he’d developed with her.

  The devices were Martian-manufactured, supplied by Elliot, modified to suit Thumper’s purposes. Elliot swore they were as good as the Outriders’ usual gear, and safer on the remote chance they should happen to be discovered. It looked likely they were about to test that theory. The skeeters were small, deactivated, and shielded against most standard spectra, but they weren’t invisible. About the only hope they had now was that the original social engineering plan would still work on the security guards, that maybe they’d run only a cursory scan, expecting that any personal friends of the Chief of Security would assuredly be trustworthy.

  At least, that’s what Lincoln had assumed. Apparently Elliot had other plans.

  “Well, can you at least let me take the microdrone out of it before you scan it then?” Elliot said.

  Selah laughed, but Elliot held out his hand and motioned for her to hand it over. The Chief of Security’s humor drained away, and she held her place. Lincoln had no idea what to do.

  The two security guards exchanged a look, like they had no idea what to do either. Elliot was the only one who seemed unconcerned.

  “Give it here,” he said.

  Selah walked over slowly and handed him the box, the look on her face unreadable.

  “I told you she was top notch,” Elliot said, to Lincoln and Thumper as he opened the gift. It was a twenty year-old Scotch, one that Selah had a special love for. Elliot removed the bottle from the container. Lincoln still didn’t know what the play here was.

  “Hold this,” he said, handing Selah the black box. Sure enough, to Lincoln’s surprise and Thumper’s obvious discomfort, he casually removed the false bottom from the bottle that they had so painstakingly prepared the night before, and then drew out the two flat disks hidden inside. They were each about the size of a large coin.

  Elliot held them up between thumb and forefinger. But no, Lincoln saw now, not two. Only one. He had no idea where the second one had gone, even though he’d been watching Elliot the whole time. The man had a magician’s hands.

  “Sorry, it was probably a stupid idea,” Elliot said. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

  He flipped the disk to her, and she snatched it out of the air one-handed.

  “It was a stupid idea,” Selah said. “That’s not funny, Elliot.”

  “I know, Selah, I’m sorry. It didn’t even occur to me what that might look like… I just thought you’d like to check one out, and thought I was being clever.”

  She held the disk flat on her palm and studied it briefly.

  “How does it work?” she asked.

  “That one won’t,” Elliot said. “It’s a demo model, not a live one. I’m not that stupid.”

  Selah looked up at him, and studied him for a moment, and then shifted her eyes over to Lincoln and Thumper. Judging them. Lincoln stood very, very still. In this case, he didn’t have to feign the shock he was feeling. He still couldn’t believe Elliot had blown the whole op before it’d even started.

  “I’m sorry, Mr Kim,” Elliot said. “I should’ve told you.”

  “Or,” Lincoln said, picking up the cue, “not have done such a thing at all.”

  Selah watched them for a span longer. Finally, she shook her head and took the box and the skeeter to the security guards and had them scan both. Fortunately in its deactivated state, the microdrone wouldn’t give off a signal of any kind that might alert them to the fact it was anything other than the demo model Elliot had claimed.

  “Bottle too,” she said.

  Elliot sheepishly relinquished the bottle.

  “Now you see why I don’t make any exceptions,” Selah said to the guards at the station. They both nodded dutifully. But then she chuckled and shook her head again, and the tension broke. She turned around while the guards finished the scan and looked at Lincoln and Thumper. “This guy,” she said, pointing at Elliot. “I don’t know that I’d trust him, if he wasn’t so easy to read. I don’t suppose he told you about how we met?”

  “A little,” Thumper said. “Mostly that you’d had his intentions identified well in advance of the execution of his plans.”

  “Exactly,” Selah said. “Surprised he admitted to it. With him, it was even easier than usual.” She and Thumper shared a knowing look that made Lincoln feel like he’d just missed some subtle joke. And the feeling that he’d missed the joke enlightened him to the fact that he was part of the punchline.

  “We are a generally oblivious animal,” he said, and Selah’s eyes flicked to his, amused.

  “In general, yes,” she said. And then added with a quick wink. “Perhaps not in every specific.”

  “What are you guys even talking about?” Elliot said.

  “All clean, Ms Coulibaly,” one of the guards said, handing the box, the skeeter, and the bottle back.

  “Thank you, Douglas,” she answered, accepting them. But she stopped mid-motion, and examined the bottle. “Elliot,” she said. “You didn’t.”

  “No I did not,” he said. “Mr Kim did.”

  She looked at Lincoln, stunned.

  “Mr Kim, I can’t accept this. This is too much.”

  Lincoln didn’t know anything about Scotch, so the force of her reaction was lost on him. He hadn’t even paid for the bottle. Elliot had given it to him from some secret stash.

  “I must confess Ms Coulibaly, I’m not sure I understand the significance,” Lincoln said. “I asked Elliot for a recommendation. He said you were fond of that particular brand?”

  She nodded and motioned for them to follow her as she led them towards a short corridor.

  “I used to think there was nothing on Earth we couldn’t make better here on Mars,” she said. “But Scotch…”

  There were three lifts on the left side of the hall, and a fourth at the end. Selah escorted them to the fourth, and ran her credentials through the interface. The door slid open, and she ushered the three of them in.

  “And this in particular,” she continued, holding the bottle up again. “Well, it almost makes up for Elliot’s ridiculous stunt.”

  “Then I wish I’d brought one more bottle,” Lincoln said. “Or perhaps, one less Elliot.”

  Selah laughed aloud then, and whatever remaining cloud had been hovering over them seemed blown away by her laughter.

  “I’m sorry to admit I hadn’t heard of Ready Vector Solutions until last evening,” Selah said, as they rode up to the eleventh floor. “But I did a little homework. I had no idea how many different industries used your hardware.”

  Lincoln dipped his head. “We’ve been very fortunate.”

  “And Elliot tells me you’re exploring expansion?”

  Thumper took over. “Exploring, yes ma’am. I’m not sure it’s a good direction for us.”

  “Ma’am,” Selah said, laughing. “That makes me sound old.”

  “Sorry, it’s a habit,” Thumper said.

  “I think it makes you sound distinguished,” Elliot added.

  “Mm, yes,” Selah said. “A fine euphemism for old. Very good, Elliot.”

  They exited the lift and walked down a quiet hall to a small, corner office.

  “What may I offer you to drink?” Selah said, as they entered. “Water? Coffee? Tea?”

  “Why don’t you crack open that 20?” Elliot said.

  “I shouldn’t,” she replied. “Not so early.”

  “I’ll pour,” he said, holding out a hand for the bottle.
Selah smiled and though she didn’t exactly give him the bottle, she didn’t resist when he gently took it from her. He walked over to a small bar and poured out four drams. Selah took a seat behind her desk, and motioned for Lincoln and Thumper to sit in the two chairs facing her. As they sat, she held up and examined the disk Elliot had given her.

  “I’m not sure I see how this is supposed to work,” she said.

  Elliot returned and handed drinks to Lincoln and Thumper, but held on to Selah’s, an unspoken demand that she exchange the deactivated microdrone. She handed him the disk and accepted the glass in return.

  “This is why I wanted it to be a surprise,” he said. He set his drink down on the corner of her desk, and then flexed the disk and shook it. The intelligent material awoke, and assumed its functional form; vaguely insect-like, roughly the size of a wasp. He handed it back to her.

  “That’s remarkable,” she said, examining it again. “Where did you get this?”

  “One of the manufacturers I work with,” Elliot said. “It’s a first run, not widely available yet. I thought you might find it interesting.”

  “And what does it do?”

  “Depends on the model,” he answered. “Though I believe that one is just a sensor for hazardous materials. Buzzes around sniffing for radiation, that sort of thing.”

  “So why sneak it in?”

  “To impress you. I was planning to do a magic trick.”

  “I’m not sure magic tricks have the effect on the ladies that you think they do, Elliot,” she said. “And as fond as I am of you, the answer is still no.”

  “I know. I’ve almost given up hope,” Elliot said with a chuckle. He picked up his glass and raised it in a toast. “To good health, great friends, and the absolute, very best of security.”

  “Cheers,” Lincoln said.

  “Cheers,” Selah said. They each sipped, and she closed her eyes, holding the amber liquid in her mouth for a time, savoring. Then she added, “Elliot, you really are an idiot.”

  “I really am, Selah. But at least I’m handsome.”

  “In your own way,” she said.

  Lincoln had never been much of one for whisky of any sort, but he had to admit that this particular Scotch was smooth enough to make him reconsider. Of course, he could never afford it at the market rate, even at home. He could only guess what Elliot had paid for it here on Mars. Then again, given what he’d learned of Elliot so far, it seemed likely that the man had a connection somewhere that made it all a bargain.

  “OK, so to business,” Selah said. “Elliot was vague on details.”

  “That would be my fault,” Lincoln said. “I’ve not provided many. But he has spoken very highly of Manes-King in general, and of you in particular. When he said he thought he might be able to arrange a meeting, I couldn’t turn down the opportunity.”

  They spent the next hour or so chatting, weaving through their cover story. Thumper took over the technical side of the discussion, but part of the brilliance of the cover was the fact that by design, neither party wanted to get too deep into the specifics, each honoring the other’s sensitive corporate position. Every so often, Elliot inserted a personal detail or worked in some industry connection so expertly that even knowing it was all false, Lincoln found it convincing.

  Though it was never explicitly stated, Elliot steered the conversation in such a way as to imply that Ready Vector Solutions might be considering partnering with Manes-King, rather than establishing their own center. Assuming, of course, that they felt confident in Manes-King’s ability to handle highly-sensitive traffic. He never mentioned the communications array farm, but somehow Selah suggested giving them a tour of the facility anyway. By the end of the conversation, Lincoln understood how Elliot had managed to operate in the area for so long.

  When Selah stepped out briefly to make quick arrangements, Elliot took advantage of the moment.

  “I hope you can make it work with one,” Elliot said to Thumper.

  “Me too,” she answered. “Link, I need the bits,” she said, motioning for him to hand over the two components to the controller he was carrying.

  “What about the skeeter?” he said.

  “In my pocket,” Thumper said.

  Lincoln’s eyes flicked from Thumper to Elliot to Thumper again.

  “When he handed me my drink,” she said. Lincoln had completely missed the exchange. Elliot was good.

  They got everything transferred to Thumper, and not a moment too soon.

  “We’re all set,” Selah said, poking her head back in the office. “I can’t take you all the way down to the actual array of course, but I can give you a good overview.”

  “That’s more than we expected, Ms Coulibaly,” Lincoln said. “Thank you again.”

  Selah took them down a couple of floors, and spoke in high-level terms about the systems they ran and how they ensured the security of the traffic they moved all over known space. Thumper was truly in her element here. The depth and insight of her questions apparently impressed Selah enough that at one point she asked Thumper whether or not she’d ever consider leaving Ready Vector. After twenty minutes or so of the behind-the-scenes tour, Lincoln surreptitiously keyed the comm unit in his pocket, sending a one-pulse signal out to Wright, wherever she was on the perimeter. Less than a minute later, Thumper received an incoming call.

  “I’m sorry, excuse me, I need to check this,” she said. She answered, and stepped off to one side of the hall, and held a quiet but increasingly animated conversation. After a minute or two, she said, “Look, I’ll have to call you back in a few minutes, I can’t discuss this openly.”

  She returned to the group, but pulled Lincoln close and they held a low, rehearsed conversation.

  “It’s the Archive,” she said.

  Lincoln grunted. “How bad?”

  “They don’t know yet, but Aoki is already gone, managing a different issue. I’m going to have to talk the tech through the process.”

  “Can it wait?”

  “Not long.”

  They stood silent for a moment, doing their best to look concerned.

  “Is everything all right?” Elliot asked, on cue.

  “Minor crisis,” Thumper said. “But escalating.”

  Lincoln flashed him a quick smile. “Which is to say, business as usual. These things only happen when we’re off site.”

  “If you need some privacy, we can get you a guest office,” Selah said. “If that would help.”

  “Thank you, but no,” Thumper answered. “It’s a fairly sensitive situation.”

  “Oh, we have several secure rooms here, if that’s the concern,” Selah said. “As I mentioned, we have clients across a broad spectrum. Governmental, military, financial. This sort of thing happens more frequently than you might think. Or, perhaps, as frequently as you might think.”

  “Well,” Thumper said, deferring to Lincoln and looking convincingly torn. “If you think it’s all right…?”

  “I’d rather you handle it as soon as possible,” Lincoln said, and he turned to Selah. “If it’s not too much trouble for you? I feel like we’ve already taken too much of your time.”

  “Not at all,” Selah said. “Just down two floors, we’ll get you set up.”

  Selah escorted them to another long, quiet hallway, and let Thumper into a nicely-appointed secure facility. Though the floor was isolated from the communications systems they needed to access, the two sections of the facility shared internal support structure. As long as Thumper could find a way to get the skeeter through the wall or ceiling, there were support beams she could follow to reach the target.

  “There’s a terminal in the desk, if you should need it,” Selah said. “Thumbprint to access a new profile, thumbprint again to log out. All traffic will be scrubbed when you log out.”

  “What about the thumbprint?” Thumper asked.

  Selah smiled. “Also scrubbed.”

  “How long do you think it will be?” Lincoln asked.
r />   “If it’s what I think it is, it should be half an hour maybe? If not… well, if it’s not, I should probably book a flight out immediately.”

  “Keep me posted.”

  Thumper nodded, and then called Wright back. They left her to her work, closing the door behind them. Before they’d closed the door completely, Thumper was already unleashing a tirade that made Elliot’s eyebrows go up.

  “User error would be my guess,” Lincoln said. “Ms Cooper doesn’t have a great deal of patience for self-inflicted wounds.”

  Lincoln had no doubt that Thumper could make the conversation work from her side; she already had a tendency to talk too much anyway, and he didn’t know anyone with a more extensive technical vocabulary. He couldn’t help but feel sorry for Wright on the other end of the line, though, and could picture her gritting her teeth through the whole deception.

  Though Selah mentioned that she didn’t mind waiting for Thumper to finish, Lincoln assured her that it would be better to complete the tour, knowing that he might also have to leave in a hurry, depending on the outcome of the call. With Thumper’s absence, he took the lead in keeping up the ruse, asking questions related more to operations and logistics. He’d never thought about it all that much before, but the more they talked, the more he got the feeling that there wasn’t as much difference between the civilian corporate world and the military life as he had expected. Maybe one day he’d go into business.

  It was about forty minutes later that Thumper contacted him and relayed that she’d gotten the issue resolved. By that time, they’d been headed back up to Selah’s office anyway, having toured as much of the facility as she was comfortable allowing. They redirected and met Thumper.

  “Everything taken care of?” Lincoln asked.

  Thumper nodded. “Best I could do from here, anyway,” she said. “Thank you for your understanding, Selah.”

  “As I said,” Selah answered, “it happens all the time.”

  She escorted them back to the lobby and they said their goodbyes amidst assurances of keeping in touch about their potential future partnership. They were only a few steps away from the door and freedom when Selah called after them.