“Commander Kraus?” Hailey asked at the open door of the office at the end of the hall.
“Yes? Oh, SWORD. Good. We’ve been expecting you. I’m Lydia Kraus,” the commander said, extending a hand.
“Agent Hailey Ramirez,” Hailey supplied.
“Great. Have a seat. Let me tell you what’s happening here,” Kraus began. Hailey already liked this commander. She didn’t waste time on unnecessary jabber about how her flight was or did she need anything to drink. Hailey understood that was how normal people greeted each other, but she was not a normal person. The commander continued, “Have you been given the specs of the colony?”
“Yes.” On the trip over, Hailey had incorporated all the intel Lucky had provided using her temporal data node so that she knew the population of the colony to be five hundred and sixty-three thousand, seven hundred and nineteen people, of whom fifty-one percent were miners, twenty-one percent were business owners or employees, eight percent were government and sector security, and twenty percent were children. She also knew that the colony only inhabited one percent of the surface of the planet on the west side of the only continent that existed there. Most of the uninhabited space was ocean and ice, with just a few other island mountains poking up through the endless expanse of frozen and nearly frozen water.
“Then you know that the mines are the heart of the economy. Everything else is support infrastructure. There have been several attempts by rebels coming from Fansha to infiltrate the mining workforce and stir them up, but the miners have a good contract with the mine owners, and the owners have a good relationship with the UOE. Everyone makes money. No one wants trouble.”
“I’m glad to hear that. It’s when they get a foothold that the real trouble starts.”
“You’ve dealt with rebels before, I take it.”
“Many times. You say they come from Fansha.”
“That’s what we’ve gathered from the people who have reported rebel contacts. Apparently, there’s a conglomerate there that isn’t satisfied with the power and wealth they currently possess.”
Hailey could not imagine who on Fansha would act this way. She had grown up there, but as a homeless child in a small city, struggling to clothe and to feed herself each day was the beginning and end of her societal awareness. She knew which stores were easy to steal clothes from, and which cafes were slow to clear the plates off their sidewalk tables. She knew which markets handed out expired milk and stale bread to anyone who knocked on the back door. And she knew which apartment building basements were rarely visited by their superintendents. Back then, she couldn’t fathom that there was anything beyond her little world. When Mango offered her a place to live and a purpose to fulfil, Hailey’s eyes were opened to the immensity of the Orion arm of the Milky Way spiral galaxy, and the need for someone to solve the problems in the United Orion Empire.
And that was why she was there, on Sigmatál: to solve a problem. “I assume you’ve put extra troops on arrivals from Fansha. They must be coming in through the spaceport.”
“Indeed. But, as I’m sure you know, rebels are very good at passing themselves off as harmless civilians until they strike. My forces have not been able to weed out the scum. I’m sorry to bother SWORD with such a request; I’m sure you have bigger problems to solve. But I’m at my wit’s end for what to do about this. The governor is breathing down my neck to stop the rebels from entering the colony.”
“No need to apologize. It is my honor to serve the citizens in every corner of the Empire.”
“Thank you, Agent Ramirez. Tell me what you need to do your job.”
“For now, cooperation from all of your troops.”
“They’ve all been informed to assist you in any way you require.”
“Thank you, Commander Kraus,” Hailey said, standing. The commander also stood. “Uh, Commander, are you sure that none of your troops are assisting the rebels?”
The commander blinked several times. “I never suspected my own forces to be complicit. I suppose anything is possible.”
“When is the next transport due at the spaceport?”
“This afternoon, from Desh.”
“Thank you,” Hailey said, then turned and left the commander’s office.
At the spaceport, Hailey made herself as inconspicuous as possible, wearing civilian clothes and milling around as if waiting to meet someone due on the transport. She listened to sector security officers who patrolled the port, civilians waiting in the arrivals wing, port employees who did their daily jobs of selling tickets, cleaning floors, and maintaining the facility.
She listened to several conversations at once, including the news feed that constantly played on the vid screens located at various locations around the port. At the same time, she analyzed the pattern of assignments of the sector security forces. There was one name that appeared suspicious: Corporal Karl Lipton was on duty every time a transport arrived from Fansha. She decided to interview all the officers who were on duty the last time a Fanshan transport landed.
Hailey’s interviews were not interviews from the officers’ points of view. To them, Hailey appeared to be a busybody colonist, unable to pass the time without talking to somebody nearby. As she found each target, she positioned herself next to the officer and struck up a conversation. Sector Security were uniformed police officers in the eyes of most colonists, and uniformed police officers always made people a little nervous. Commander Kraus had ordered all forces to be polite and helpful to the people of Sigmatál in an attempt to build a good relationship with the community. Thanks to this order, each officer Hailey engaged in conversation politely responded to her questions and remarks while their eyes continued to patrol the area.
“So, I said to Blanche – she’s my next-door neighbor – if Mitch ever takes up with those Fanshan troublemakers, then I’m leaving him!”
“Yes, ma’am,” Corporal Lipton replied, his eyes focusing on Hailey’s face for the first time.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Hailey asked defensively.
“Has, uh, Mitch, ever met one of the troublemakers,” he asked.
“Well, Mitch is a bit of a story teller. Never really know which ones are fact and which ones are fantasy. He’d think it was glamorous or something to be ‘in the know’ about rebels,” Hailey invented.
“Please think, ma’am. Do you believe your husband has met a rebel?”
“He said he did, in a tavern by the mine. He stops in there most nights after his shift.”
“What did the rebel say to him?”
“Oh, you know, some bull story about how a Sector Security officer helped him get through inspections. You guys’d never do something like that, would you?” A fire ignited in Lipton’s eyes. Hailey studied his reaction. “What’s wrong?” she asked him.
“Did he describe the SS officer?” Lipton asked.
“No. I mean, why would he?”
“I guess you’re right,” Lipton said disappointedly.
Hailey had suspected Lipton of taking bribes to look the other way, but Lipton should’ve been glad he had not been described by the supposed rebel. “What’s got you so down all of a sudden?” Hailey asked.
Lipton looked around the area, then focused on Hailey again. “I’ve made sure to be on duty for every arrival from Fansha. I want to nail those scum rebels once and for all. If one of my colleagues is helping them, I’ll…”
Hailey believed him. All his bio signs matched his language. “You’ll… what?”
“I’ll nail him, too!” Lipton blurted.
“You got some reason to get all hot under the collar about this?”
Lipton looked around again but didn’t make eye contact with Hailey after his scan of the area. “My father was killed by rebels on Torra.” Recollection of the event on Torra was perfectly recorded in Hailey’s brain and TDN. She studied the man’s face, trying to match him to any of the miners she had seen fall when all hell broke loose. “I was just a kid,” Lipton
continued. “Rebels tried to take over the mine. He was just trying to go home after work, minding his own business, you know?” Hailey nodded at the corporal. She remembered the gourd-shaped Maxemeelin standing atop a work truck, ordering everyone to choose a side: join the rebellion or die on the spot.
Hailey’s reminiscing lasted only a second, though in that second, she had replayed the whole battle at the mine. She returned her mind to the present. First Fansha, now Torra. Was this mission destined to be a journey down memory lane for Hailey?
“Corporal,” she said, dropping the busybody persona, “I’m sorry for your loss.” Hailey tried very hard to make her sympathy sound as genuine as it was, despite her LM keeping her nearly emotion-free. “I’m not a resident here. I’m from SWORD, here to stop the rebels from infiltrating this community.” She showed her ID.
“SWORD?” Lipton lowered his volume. “Are you a Wraith?”
“Yes.”
A smile grew on the corporal’s face. “Now they’ll be stopped. Thank you for coming to help us!”
“Corporal, on Torra, how old were you?” Hailey asked.
“Fourteen. Had to take a job in the mine to replace my father’s income, but when I was old enough to join Sector Security, I signed up.”
“Is your family OK?”
“They left Torra when I did. They’re doing all right.”
“Corporal Lipton, I’m glad you’ve joined Sector Security to uphold the law, but may I give you some advice?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered.
“Stopping the rebels is a good goal – and I’ll do it. But don’t obsess about them. That would only hurt you. Take it from someone who’s been screwed over more than once: a grudge will torture you and no one else.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Lipton appeared disappointed. Hailey replayed the last piece of dialog and noticed that his face began to fall when she said she’d stop the rebels. She could understand why he wanted to help, but what others considered help was usually just a distraction for Hailey. More often than not, she had to pull someone’s ass out of the fire because they were not up for the job. They thought they were going on an adventure with the Wraith, but Hailey’s adventures were fatally dangerous. She looked at the corporal’s face. He didn’t crave adventure. He just wanted to prevent some other boy from losing his father.
Despite her disinclination to take tag-alongs along, she made Lipton an offer. “That being said, how would you like to help me knab the troublemakers?”
“Yes, ma’am!” Lipton answered enthusiastically.
Hailey sent a message to Commander Kraus saying she required Corporal Lipton’s assistance for the next few days, and to please excuse him from other duties. “OK, you’re my deputy until we root ‘em out.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
Corporal Lipton
“Tell me the pattern. You’ve been on duty for all Fanshan transports. How many lead to rebel activity in the city?”
“All of them, Agent Ramirez.”
Hailey raised her eyebrows. “They try to get a foothold every time the shuttle runs between there and here?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Lipton answered.
“How do you know?”
“Citizens complain. First it was miners, then small business owners, then teachers at the schools.”
“No one’s interested, huh?” Hailey asked.
“No. Yet they keep trying. What do we have that they want?” Lipton asked, not expecting Hailey to know the answer.
“Usually, it’s just about power.”
“What’s so great about power? Being in charge of things is a massive responsibility.”
“I think it has to do with having a feeling of superiority over everyone else.” Hailey checked herself. What was that feeling? she thought. The feeling came and went in a fraction of a second, suppressed by the limbic monitor so she could concentrate on her mission. I’ll figure that out later. “Lipton, have you ever performed before a live audience?”
“Yes, ma’am. In third grade.”
Hailey smiled. “How did you feel when the audience applauded you?”
“I dunno. Pretty good, I guess.”
“Most people like praise. Some people crave it. They have to have it or they don’t feel good about themselves.”
“But plenty of people in power are not loved by the people below them.”
“I’m sure they believe that the people are simply not smart enough to understand their greatness,” Hailey guessed. Again, that foreign feeling slapped her micromomentarily. “They always have ‘yes men’ nearby to stroke their –”
“Egos,” Lipton summarized.
“Yeah,” Hailey agreed half-heartedly. She shook her head to throw off her discomfort and resumed her meeting with the corporal. “OK. Right. So, the citizens complain about the agitators to… Sector Security?”
“Usually. Sometimes people go to the government, but we seem to resolve the immediate problem right away, while the government forms committees to discuss the problem.”
Hailey chuckled. “You chase ‘em away? You must know who they are, then.”
“No such luck. We make our presence known in the neighborhood they’re harassing, and they move on to some other place until their shuttle leaves. The descriptions provided by the citizens are contradictory, useless.”
“Human perception, evaluation, and data storage are notoriously unreliable.” Except mine. Hailey was grateful that her eyes, ears, brain, and memory worked perfectly together to provide her with flawless recollection. Then she felt uncomfortable again. She cursed the disquiet internally and refocused her attention on Lipton. “What do you do next?”
“We supervise the departure of the transport and monitor citizen complaints. When the Fanshan ship is gone, so are the complaints. But, Agent Ramirez, that isn’t a long-term solution to the problem. We can keep scaring them off, but if they keep coming, they might succeed one day. Meanwhile, our people are very disturbed by the things they say.”
“Why? What do they say?” Hailey asked.
“They try to rile them up against whomever is above them, accusing their employers and political representatives of cheating them or trying to exert more control over them. The people here, they’re happy enough with their employers and reps. And they’re not easily swayed when someone tries to seduce them away, especially off-worlders.”
“Do you believe the same people are coming on the Fansha shuttles, or is it a different crew every time?”
“There are several people who are on the shuttle every time. I watch ‘em when they come in. I’ve even questioned them about their plans while on Sigmatál. I’ve got nothing to hold ‘em on, and they go about their business.”
“Ever follow them?”
“My sergeant says we have to let ‘em be.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I follow orders.”
“Right.” Hailey pondered the information she had so far. “Can you introduce me to your sergeant?”
“Sure, Agent Ramirez. But if you think he’s in on it, I can assure you he’s clean.”
“How do you know?”
“Because… he’s been my sergeant since I was stationed here. I know him.”
“You think you know him. People can have hidden, ugly sides to their personalities.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Lipton said lowly. “He’s at the station.”
“Can you comm him to meet us at a diner or something?”
“I can ask him, but he’s my superior.”
“I understand.”
Hailey chose a booth in the diner that gave her complete visual access to every person who came in. “When he gets here, tell him I’m a citizen with information. I’ll take it from there.”
“Yes, ma’am. Oh, there he is. Sergeant Landry, over here, please,” Lipton called.
“What’s so important that I have to come out here to meet you?” Landry asked impatiently.
“This woman, sir, she has informat
ion about the Fanshan rebels I thought you should hear, but she wouldn’t come in to the station.”
“The nice officer bought me a chaiko,” Hailey defended the corporal to his superior.
“Ma’am, can you please tell the sergeant what you told me?” Lipton played along.
Hailey address the sergeant. “I told him that my husband, Mitch – did I ever tell you his name?” she asked Lipton. The corporal nodded, gazing in fascination at the Wraith’s ability to switch personalities, accents, and patterns of speech to become a completely different person. “Yes, well, Mitch,” she refocused on the sergeant, “came home from the tavern one night saying some people from Fansha were talkin’ to him about stirrin’ up a bit of … excitement, shall we say?”
“Is that what he said?” Landry asked. “Excitement?”
“Well, he said it was them rebels, but you don’t know my Mitch. He’s something of a yarn-spinner, if you know what I mean.”
“I’d like to talk to Mitch. Where is he?”
“He’s at work. At the mine,” Hailey said, looking confused. “You don’t think he actually met real rebels. I mean, no rebel would take a look at him and say, ‘Yeah, we need that guy on our team,’” Hailey laughed and looked at Lipton. “Y’know?”
“Ma’am, did your husband describe the alleged rebels?”
“No, but he did say they were getting through security at the spaceport because they had a hold on someone in Sector Security.”
Landry reacted visibly to the statement. Hailey needed to determine if he felt threatened, indignant, or worried about the accusation. “I assure you, madam, that no one in Sector Security is helping the rebels of Fansha.”
The statement is indignant, but the physiology says worried. But worried about finding the traitor, or worried about being found out? Hailey continued the ruse. “Well, you may think so, but that’s what he said they said.”
“Corporal, this is third person testimony. Hardly reliable. You need to question the husband right away.”
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