by Smith, S. E.
The interior perimeter path and lights shared an AI that reported a litany of complaints about mold and mud interfering with its sensors and ignored all nonhuman signatures.
All in all, it wasn’t how he would have configured the security systems, but as Argint d’Apa’s security chief had reminded—
“Subcaptain?”
He looked up to find Barray in front of him. The look on her face said she’d been waiting for him to respond. The downside to listening to machines is that he forgot to listen to people. “Yes?”
“Permission to use that chair to stand on?” She pointed to the chair next to him.
“Of course.”
As she leaned over to pull the chair out, she dropped a small piece of paper in his lap. A flick of her eyes told him she’d done it on purpose.
It appeared to be a random list of locations throughout the complex. He used his percomp to take a quick flat image, then held up the list. “I think you dropped this.”
She smiled ruefully. “Yep.” She crossed from the large wallcomp to take it from him. “Sorry.” She stuffed it in her vest pocket, then went back to climb on the chair and open the wallcomp’s service door.
“No problem.” He hoped that sounded casual enough. He’d become hyper-aware of his actions, knowing he might be watched. He hoped his inherent stiffness would cover any gaffes.
On Barray’s list, more than half had extra marks next to them. All had lines through them, except the bottom few, all in the CRIO office. The item at the top, his office, had the most extra marks. She’d said his office had a lot of surveillance tech. If she’d found more tech in the locations on the list, that meant that the majority of the company and government staff areas where tech could be found also had covert eyes and ears.
That gave a whole new dimension to his investigation. He’d been thinking small, like the company vice president negotiating the government contract renewal, or Lambru, who needed to know if the government had discovered his activities. Installing tech throughout the facility and having the time—or a sophisticated AI—to sift through the results, took considerably more resources. No fact had yet jumped out and tripped his finder sense as significant. He needed more data.
Barray pulled an instrument from her bag. “All right with you if I set up a tech suppressor for a few minutes?” She pointed toward his gauntlet. “You’ll lose comms.”
“Okay.”
She touched the controls.
Silence reigned, except phantom echoes from his military-grade comms wire and the three office fans.
“Two minutes.” She circled a finger. “Extras all around. Not like your office, but bad enough. This wallcomp is a mess.” She smiled crookedly. “Even the fans have cameras.”
“Any commonalities? The locations on your list seem random.”
“Could be selection bias—I looked for trouble tickets like yours because I get a bonus for clearing them. The biggest commonality is the same model of camera. I’ve counted at least a dozen. The rest are incompatible and wrong-sized components, and they were spliced in wherever they’d fit. Whoever installed them knows even less about hardware tech than I do.”
He frowned. “You are very knowledgeable.”
“That’s kind of you to say.” She waved off his statement. “I know Argint d’Apa systems. I like reading, and taught myself the basics, because I didn’t have anything better to do with my time.” She pointed a thumb toward the wallcomp behind her. “Whoever did this is the kind of amateur you read about in the newstrends. ‘Inventor Accidentally Flatlines Planetary Traffic Control System.’”
“Hmmm.” Pesky facts didn’t fit any of his theories.
“Since you didn’t want me to remove the extras in your office, I’ve been fixing the trouble but leaving the tech in place, unless it caused the break.” She shook her head. “It still could be two different watchers, because some of the tech is done right.”
She stepped off the chair to fish in her bag for a small multitool. “Before I kill the tech suppressor, this is for you.” She slid it across the small conference table toward him. “Press the blue and red together twice and the light will blink if you’re within a couple of meters of the surveillance cameras.”
“Thank you.” He pocketed it. He was touched by her thoughtfulness. He spoke on impulse. “If you ever need help with a rescue, let me know.” She was taking a lot of chances for him, so he could take one for her.
She blinked in surprise, then gave him a blinding smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She turned off the tech suppressor, closed up the wallcomp, and dragged the chair back into place. “I’m done in here. Where to next?”
It wasn’t hard to pretend boredom as he followed her from room to room and finished up in the hallway. Barray hardly said a word, though her expressive face suggested she was still having running conversations with the tech she evaluated.
He hadn’t allowed himself to watch Barray very much, because then he’d have wanted to talk to her. The woman in her written record didn’t sync with the woman in person. Blame it on his finder talent, but he loved solving mysteries, and she definitely was an intriguing one. And, as he’d had to repeatedly remind himself, completely off-limits.
At the end of three hours, she slung her heavy tech bag over her shoulder. “My supervisor will send you the report.”
“Any particular issues for upgrades?” That should be vague enough for the watchers.
He escorted her to the guard checkpoint.
She shrugged. “Humidity, mold, behind on service. Like everything else in the plant.” She snapped her fingers. “I forgot to mention, I found an old surplus fan, if the plant hasn’t replaced yours.”
“They haven’t. I’ll come get it tomorrow.”
“I’ll leave it in the lab with your name on it, if I’m not around.” She walked away, and he returned to the CRIO office to make sure he hadn’t left a mess, then went to his quarters.
He wanted to try out the camera detector immediately, but he made himself wait until he could think of a way to disguise both it and his actions. The frustrating part was, even if it came up negative, that just meant no cameras. Barray had mentioned a half-dozen types of surveillance she’d found. Suddenly, sleeping in his military high-low flitter seemed very attractive. Unless one of the watchers was the military, in which case, he may as well sleep in his comfortable bed.
9
Ferra hoped Tauceti got the message she’d sent, and more importantly, figured out the hidden meaning. Otherwise, loitering after hours in the hallway near the government wing would be a magnet for guard suspicion, even though she was on official business. She didn’t want to be memorable.
Her quiet indenturee routine had become significantly more exciting since she’d rescued Novo and Boz.
She’d fallen in love with the cats when they’d cuddled and comforted her that first night. In her twilight dreams, the cats told her how they’d arrived on her proverbial doorstep. Their handler had been the dead man from the swamp. They’d all been undercover with an interstellar jack crew. After a betrayal, they’d barely made it out in an escape pod. Knowing he was dying, the handler released the cats and sent them to look for someone who could hear and help them. They’d found Ferra.
They’d nearly scared the life out of her the next morning when she could feel them in her head but couldn’t find them. They’d appeared before her eyes in the pile of blankets, by way of demonstrating that they put chameleons to shame. They could blend in with practically anything.
She’d since learned more of what cats of war could do. For one, they’d figured out how to get into the air-handling ducts in the facility, and into the garages intended for the maintenance bots. She made tiny tokens for them to wear so any bot garage door would open for them. For another, they’d told her where more small bots could be found so she could turn them in for the bounty. She was both amused and worried when she started hearing rumors of the facility being overrun with giant blood-suckin
g bats or invaded by carnivorous miniature dinosaurs.
She’d worried about feeding the cats, because she couldn’t keep buying extra mealpacks without causing comment. She’d been relieved when they’d discovered the kitchen on their own and had been helping themselves to meal scraps ever since, but now, she worried they’d be caught. They were insulted by her worry.
Ferra lucked out in not having to hide or explain net searches for veterinary medicine. Argint d’Apa had an entire hypercube of regular and pet-trade reference material in the huge indenturee library, in the “career rehabilitation” section.
The most astonishing discovery she made was that she might have another minder talent besides telekinesis. According to the reference, a lot of vet meds in the pet-trade business were animal-affinity minders. Most were genera or species-specific, such as horses or dogs. The best of them could mentally connect with and heal anything in a given class, such as mammals. A very useful talent, considering the ethically challenged pet trade bred pretty much any fantasy animal they could sell—miniature dragons, hellhounds, or flying cats. Novo and Boz were likely experimental, or special order.
The best news was that, while the Citizen Protection Service’s Minder Corps aggressively recruited telepaths, telekinetics, healers, and sifters, they didn’t have much use for animal-affinity minders. Not that she planned to march into the CPS office and ask to be tested. The Criminal Restitution and Indenture Obligation system reflected galactic society’s suspicion of any minder, and enforced stricter security and harsher justice for them.
Being an animal-affinity minder with a feline-family specialty explained why she could hear Novo and Boz so well, but had no connection to other animals, such as the guard dogs or young muskrats. It also explained why, when she touched Boz, she could sense the extent of his injury and his pain. Based on comparing anatomy images with what she could feel, he had sore and inflamed muscles, and maybe torn ligaments at the wing-shoulder joint. Easily repairable if she could sneak him into the veterinary medic autodoc in the dog kennel area, but she might as well wish for wings of her own.
She glanced at the large clock display on the wall behind the guard station. None of the clocks showed the whole planet, probably to avoid reminding indenturees and staff of anything outside Argint d’Apa. The staff turnover rate was almost on par with how often indenturees cycled in and out of the system.
The government wing door irised open to reveal Tauceti. She kept her expression bored, but she couldn’t help but notice his body-skimming exercise clothes that fired her imagination. She didn’t blame the guard for giving him a lingering, appreciative once-over.
Tauceti waved her through. “The force exerciser won’t move at all.”
The wing door irised closed behind them as they walked down the hall. She smiled a little at his explanation. Force exercisers weren’t supposed to move. Credible lying wasn’t in his wheelhouse, apparently. A nice change from the indenturee company she currently kept, and her brother’s buddies.
She followed him into the military gym, where she set her bag on the force exerciser’s seat.
The small gym had little surveillance tech, and at his request, she’d disabled all of it. She couldn’t blame him for wanting one safe place to himself. She’d done similar work on her cell, leaving only the emergency audio monitor in place. Argint d’Apa security couldn’t very well ask the repair office to fix spy eyes that weren’t supposed to be there in the first place.
He sat on a bench and looked up at her expectantly.
“I’ll get straight to the point. I have a massive favor to ask.”
Warmth drained from his expression as he stiffened. “What favor?”
She’d been so wrapped up in the needs of the cats that she’d forgotten her place, and his. Stupidity like that could destroy them both. “I’m sorry. Never mind.”
She reached for the bag’s strap. She’d find another—
“What favor?”
His bleak expression wasn’t encouraging, but she’d already come this far. “I heard the military is sending you early to your new post, and that you’re leaving in five days.”
He looked startled, then shook his head. “I only got the orders this morning.” Exasperation laced his tone.
“Once you notified the front office, everyone knew.” It’s what had given her the idea, in fact. “The favor is to take some animals away with you.”
His eyes widened. “This is about a rescue? I suppose I could make a stop in the swamp on my flight out.”
She shook her head. “No, I want you to take them with you to Merganukhan. You need to meet them to see why.”
“I do?” Now he just looked perplexed.
She pulled her multitool out of her pocket and opened the wallcomp. After a moment, she used telekinesis to slide open the air handling grid in the ceiling.
She turned around in time to see Novo poke her head out. Her fur had taken on the mottled dull brown of the duct tubing but was already turning beige to match the ceiling by the time Tauceti followed her gaze.
Novo oozed out like an extrusion, then jumped to the ground with barely a thud. Boz followed, landing less gracefully. Both cats eyed Tauceti with keen interest.
For his part, Tauceti froze, then began shaking his head. “No, slow down. Wait. One at a time.”
Ferra’s jaw dropped. She could feel the cats talking to Tauceti, but not with the mind speech they used with her. It felt weird.
Novo sat in front of Tauceti and stared unblinkingly into his eyes.
Boz limped over to Ferra and rubbed his head on her knee. He is a military controller. Our controllers sync with him.
She crouched to rub Boz’s rounded, mobile ears, which he liked. Controllers? She’d gotten better at talking with her mind instead of her mouth.
The tech in our heads. Ask Novo. Boz padded over to sit in front of Tauceti.
Novo began investigating the equipment in the room, looking and sniffing. We have military computers in our brains. You do not. He does. We can report to him, but he can’t feel us like you do.
Ferra looked at Tauceti and remembered his question about a skulljack, and how he rubbed behind his left ear when thinking. It made sense that not all military personnel with skulljacks would wear tattoos that lit up and pointed to them, like elite forces Jumpers did.
Tauceti looked up to meet her gaze. “You bonded with them.” His neutral tone gave nothing away as far as his feelings.
She shrugged. “They needed my help.”
“Their former handler, Galagade, the pilot who died, worked for the Minder Corps as a covert operative. The cats’ comps say they are stealth weapons and think I’m their new handler. The comps think I’m the animal-affinity minder who bonded with them. The cats say otherwise.”
She appreciated that he’d avoided accusing her of being a minder, but it didn’t solve the problem.
“I can’t be a handler. I’m an indenturee. I’ve got another two or three months to go, depending on how many extra shifts I work.” She made an exasperated noise. “They’re not safe here, despite their chameleon skin and skulking skills. The guards would love to throw them to the hellhounds.”
Novo circled back to rub against Ferra’s leg. We can fight.
Ferra shied away from the image. She’d seen what the hellhounds could do. “You’re their only hope for getting out of here, especially since you can hear them. I was hoping you could board them someplace on Merganukhan until I can come for them. I can pay.”
He shook his head. “Pets are forbidden on Space Div military transports.” Boz, the petting junkie, had already wedged his muzzle into Tauceti’s hand. “Besides, Minder Corps probably wants them returned.”
Ferra shuddered. “I’ll turn them loose in the swamp before I’ll send them back there. Once they’d connected with Galagade, the researchers experimented on all three of them, trying to break the bond, and it hurt. They’d probably still be in the labs, except Galagade had family in high pla
ces and they transferred him to the sneaky spying and theft division.” She waved toward the cat currently perched on top of the free-weight stacker. “At least, that’s my interpretation of Novo’s story.”
He shrugged a shoulder apologetically. “Even if I was a subgeneral instead of a subcaptain, Space Div wouldn’t let me bring them on board.”
“What if you were a courier for a top-secret project?” She shoved her hands in her pockets and rocked on her heels. “I can make it so in the records. I can say they’re lethal or communicable, so no one wants to get within five meters of them.”
He raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
Time to do what was right for the cats. “That’s how I sent myself here.”
His eyes widened. “You came here on purpose?”
“I needed to vanish, fast. I know it sounds crazy, but the CRIO system seemed the safer alternative at the time.” She blew out a noisy sigh. “I’m a… I was a top-level financial systems integrator, working for one of the big galactic information exchanges. I refused to bail my brother out of trouble for the umpteenth time. He lured me to a meeting. Turned out he’d sold me like I was fresh fruit to the big, powerful crew he owed a lot of money to.” Chaos, but that final betrayal still hurt. “The crew needed someone with my skills to move their money and hide their trail. I convinced them I’d signed on willingly, so they didn’t watch me like they should have. I escaped, but they were hot on my afterburner, so I couldn’t go anywhere near my former life. I used my data manipulation skills to steal pieces of records to make a new identity, insert me into the CRIO system, and vanish.” She blinked to keep the tears from falling. “I can do the same for the cats.”
“Why didn’t you go to the planetary police, or the CGC military detectives?”