Conflict: The Pythan War, Invasion

by DK Williamson

  Kurt banged his fist twice against the side of the truck and glanced at the driver in the rear view mirror. As the truck pulled away, the pair walked toward a doorway into the building where their office used to exist, the last evidence of it rolling away on the truck.

  “Wrong, on both counts. There will be numerous assets left groundside. We intend to group most of you into small, loose cells, so you will not be entirely alone and can provide support to one another if necessary. As far as the intel you gather, much of what we want you to concentrate on will be useful later.”

  Gabby nodded. “Later, as in when the Coalition returns.”

  “That’s right. If this system is secured by the Pythans, that might be awhile. If the system stays in dispute, there will be Space Forces vehicles that will attempt contact. You’ll be provided gear for that purpose.”

  “How am I supposed to get myself into a position to be able to gather intel?”

  “We have something in mind. We’ll place you in a position, and hopefully, your natural attributes will keep you there.”

  She gave him a questioning look as they stepped into an elevator.

  Kurt smiled. “You are not an unattractive woman, Gabby. That will not be lost on the Pythans.”

  “I’m to rely solely on my looks?”

  He chuckled. “No, but it might just help, trust me. I’ll explain….”

  -(o)-

  Eighteen hours later, the last space vehicles from the surface of the planet Elspeth were gone, en route to larger vehicles ready to depart the Regent system as soon as possible.

  Gabby entered an apartment, one she’d never seen before, but one the records indicated she had resided in for the last five years.

  She kicked the entry door closed and dropped her baggage two steps farther in as she went to the kitchen. She opened cabinet doors until she discovered where the drinking glasses were stored, then removed one and filled it from the sink faucet. She downed the water in a few thirsty gulps, refilled the glass, then walked to the kitchen table and took a seat.

  She put her forehead on the tabletop and thought, What are you doing? You could have been a software engineer, but no, you wanted to be a spy. Next time follow your mother’s advice.

  Gabby’s old identity was gone, a few keystrokes saw to that. The Gabrielle Roth who worked for Coalition Intelligence Services was now Gabrielle Roth, Executive Housekeeper, Elspeth Administration Center. Gabby’s Space Forces service and university degree were now just memories residing in her own head, expunged from the official records. Gabby was also now a widow, her nonexistent emergency medical technician husband having died in a jump-ambulance crash five years earlier.

  All of these things were put in place because Gabby’s now non-existent boss, Kurt, had gauged the Pythans would keep her in her position at the admin center. He was sure the Pythans would use the building for the same purpose as the original planetary administrators did, allowing her access to information.

  “They’ll allow you to work,” Kurt had said to her. “You have experience and are a widow. They’ll respect that if their administrator is a follower of Turog, and there’s a better than even chance that will happen.”

  “I told you before, I’m not a Pythan specialist,” she had replied.

  “I know. That’s to your advantage. Your lack of knowledge will serve you well. When you begin the conversion process they will require of you, there won’t be any worries of compromising yourself by showing too much knowledge of their beliefs.”

  A fake housekeeper, a fake Pythan, but a real spy. That’s what I am to be.

  Gabby sat up and shook her head. She drank the water from the glass, then stood and walked to the counter and placed the glass there. As she looked up, she saw her reflection in the front panel of the cooking console. “You wanted adventure, you got it. Another fine mess…,” she muttered to the reflection before she turned and went to view the rest of the apartment.

  -(o)-

  The noise of an amplified voice awoke most of the residents of Laurel, the capital city of Elspeth. The last traces of night were disappearing from the sky.

  “Citizens of Elspeth. Stay in your domiciles. Anyone seen outside will be destroyed or arrested. This is by order of Pythan command. Message repeats. Citizens of Elspeth…”

  Residents across the planet discovered the same broadcast on all forms of media and communications systems.

  The planetary government had decided there would be no official resistance to the invasion, feeling any such action was doomed to fail. This decision was not universally accepted. Some residents of the planet felt otherwise, and when Pythan landing craft began setting down they were met by pockets of resistance.

  In Laurel, this was confined to the southeastern corner of the city, which was largely industrial. Two days of fighting ended in Pythan victory.

  Despite the fighting within the industrial area, occupation forces made their way into the rest of the city.

  Over the next two weeks Pythan forces conducted sweeps and confiscation operations, securing government buildings, seizing arms caches and privately owned weapons, confiscating public and private communication devices, and a myriad of other items they deemed capable of supporting resistance.

  During this period, Pythan authorities began calling in certain residents for interviews: local and planetary government officials; law enforcement personnel; waste and water management workers along with others who worked with infrastructure; plus other citizens they felt might aid in their administration of the newest addition to the Pythan system.

  The reason for this was two-fold: to identify and weed out potential troublemakers, and to identify those that might assist in the transition to Pythan rule and maintain order.

  One of those people called in was Gabrielle Roth, ordered to report to the Pythan Administration building, formerly known as the Elspeth Administration Center.

  Gabby stood in a long line of people that slowly but steadily snaked its way into the five-story building. Eventually she made her way to the desk that was the end of the line.

  “Identity,” the uniformed man seated behind the desk said gruffly. His accent was heavy.

  “Gabrielle Roth,” she replied.

  “Papers. Identity papers,” he said holding out an open hand.

  Gabby placed her identity card on the man’s palm.

  The man squinted at the card, then looked at Gabby, then back to the card. “Gabreelee?” he said.

  “Gabrielle,” she replied slowly.

  The man grunted and entered her name into a console. After reading from the screen, he looked up at her.

  “You see Vashnik. Office. Top floor. Go now,” he said thrusting the identity card at Gabby.

  A few minutes later she stepped from the elevator and after asking for Vashnik’s location, she learned he was the Pythan planetary administrator. She walked down the hall and entered the office.

  Gabby found the reception desk was unoccupied, in fact the entire outer office was empty.

  She walked to the administrator’s office and paused at the open door. She sighed, then knocked on the trim edging the doorway.

  “Come in,” said a man’s clear voice. Gabby could discern only a trace of accent.

  She walked into the office and saw a slender and handsome man seated behind the large desk. The man glanced at Gabby, then back to his console, then immediately back to Gabby.

  He stood, tall and well postured, and gracefully gestured to a pair of chairs in front of the desk.

  “Please, have a seat,” he said.

  “Thank you,” Gabby replied.

  As she sat, the man opened a folder that was on his desktop.

  “Would you be Gabrielle Roth?” he said, managing to pronounce it correctly.

  “That’s right,” she said with a demure smile. “Are you Mr. Vashnik?”

  “Yes. Hiro Vashnik, Planetary Administrator.” He sat in his chair and leaned back. “You were in charge of housekeeping
under the previous government?”

  “Only in this center, Mr. Vashnik,” she replied.

  He opened his mouth to reply, then burst into laughter.

  He’s quick, she thought. Has a sense of humor and doesn’t seem offended that a jest came from a woman.

  “My Coalition Standard is a bit stale,” he said when he stopped laughing. “Yes, I meant you were in charge of housekeeping in this building.”

  “Yes, Mr. Vashnik.”

  “Are you amendable to continue your duties under Pythan rule?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  Hiro leaned forward and looked at the folder once more. “You are a widow? So young to be a widow for… five of your years. Is that why you were employed here?”

  “Yes, Mr. Vashnik.”

  “No children,” he said with a glance at the folder once again.

  “No.”

  “Your husband was… medical. A doctor?”

  “No. He rescued people. He stabilized injured and sick people for travel to a hospital. That sort of thing.”

  Hiro nodded. “I see. He was a man of service.”

  “Yes, Mr. Vashnik. He died during a rescue.”

  “Most admirable. May Khygon welcome him.”

  Gabby looked at Hiro with a perplexed look.

  “I am sorry,” he said. “Khygon is the Healing Hand aspect of the god Pyth, who is Creator and Ruler of All. You could not know that, and I apologize for the confusion.”

  “No apology necessary, Mr. Vashnik. I think it will take some time for us to learn to understand each other.”

  Gabby was right. There was a great deal to learn.

  Two days later, she resumed the job she had—at least according to the records—held for five years. Her first task was to hire new employees, a tricky situation for a couple of reasons.

  Vashnik had given her guidelines she was to follow: no married women, no able-bodied men of military age, and no members of an established religion but the Pythan faith. She also faced the hazard of a former member of the housekeeping or custodial staff questioning her position prior to the Pythan occupation. Fortunately, for Gabby, no previous employee even applied, something Gabby suspected might have been Kurt’s doing.

  Two of the people she did hire were already know to her, Neil Levine and Carla Suzuki, both middle aged, and both with manufactured backgrounds created by Kurt. These two people were the supporting members of her spy cell. While neither Levine or Suzuki were intelligence professionals, they each had skills that would enhance Gabby’s efforts to glean information from the Pythans.

  Suzuki was a fake widow like Gabby, but she still had an actual husband who was evacuated before the Pythans arrived. Levine was a Land Forces veteran who lost a leg in service more than a decade before. That fact and his training as a locksmith were wiped away in the same manner as Gabby’s past.

  -(o)-

  As she walked up the steps to the administration building on her first morning, a voice called out from behind.

  “Good morning, pretty lady!”

  Gabby turned and saw a man in his late thirties trotting toward her. His predatory eyes looked her up and down as he approached.

  “I’m Harold Beemer, I’ll be maintaining data devices for our new bosses.” He stopped beside Gabby. “What do you do?”

  “I am the executive housekeeper. I oversee—”

  “Roth, yeah, I saw your name on the list. Five years here? I figured you to be much older,” he said as his eyes roamed over Gabby’s form once again. “I used to be in here all the time, but I don’t remember you,” he said.

  “Do you remember every employee of every building you’ve ever visited?” Gabby replied.

  “No, of course not. Unless they looked like you,” he said with a wolfish grin. “Maybe I just had the misfortune of not crossing paths with you.”

  “Mr. Beemer, let’s keep this on a professional level.”

  Beemer rolled his eyes. “Fine. You know, we’re the smart ones.”

  They made their way into the building.

  “How’s that?”

  “We’re in on the ground floor, Baby-cakes.”

  Gabby gave a hint of a sneer, only a slight wrinkling of her nose and curl of her lip showing her irritation.

  “Ground floor?” she said.

  “That’s right. Once most of the idiots figure out the Coalition is done for, we’ll be firmly in place. We’ve got a leg up.”

  “I hadn’t really thought about it that way.”

  “Don’t know about you, but I’m going places. The Pythans are running the show now, and those that get on board first get to pick their seat.”

  “And what if the Coalition returns?”

  “I’ll tell’em I had no choice. Work for the Pythans or get a bullet to the head. That ain’t gonna happen though, they swept our guys away like flies.”

  -(o)-

  The first couple of weeks were very stressful for Gabby. She was doing a job she had little knowledge of, but she learned quickly, applied common sense, and was able to explain away any miscues on her part as problems with a new housekeeping and janitorial staff.

  For most citizens on Elspeth, conversion to the Pythan faith and learning the Pythan language and law began immediately. Most people attended classes at night or on weekends. Those that refused were taken to conversion centers. Administrator Vashnik was a follower of the aspect Turog, just as Kurt thought might be the case. Gabby learned most administrators and diplomats followed Turog, which was considered a moderate form of the Pythan faith. Vashnik believed former Coalition citizens should be given ample time to adjust to the new way.

  Gabby, being in charge of a section of employees at the administration center, answered to Vashnik and spent considerable time in his presence. She found him to be a fair, intelligent, respectful, and kind man, but she kept in mind that he was also the enemy.

  Gabby, Neil Levine, and Carla Suzuki did little but try to fit into their new roles for the first few weeks of the occupation. They did watch and learn the routine of the administration center. Where did the Pythans keep secure documents, where were troops deployed or bivouacked, who ran or worked in sections that might have information worth acquiring, these were some of the questions they sought to answer.

  Gabby knew a great deal could be learned through seemingly normal and innocuous conversations, quick glances at data screens or papers left within eyesight, overhearing office chatter, and similar opportunities.

  Gaining access to hard data would require more work, and greater risk. Suzuki was a computer and communications expert, Levine a locksmith who was technically adept. Their skills could compliment Gabby’s own abilities and allow her to access systems, devices, and places she could not gain on her own.

  Suzuki provided logging devices that Gabby was able to place in specific computers within the admin center. These devices allowed Suzuki to gather information that allowed her to access various computer systems without detection. “The Pythan unfamiliarity with our computer systems is a huge advantage to us,” she said.

  Levine provided Gabby with small flat polymer blocks she could imprint with keys she came across in the offices within the center which he could use to fashion duplicate keys. The various safes and locked cabinets that had no keys were a different matter, Levine would need to crack those himself. Levine also built hiding places in the administration center for hiding items such as communication devices, stolen documents, and whatever might incriminate one of them should they be caught with such things on their person.

  Levine gave Gabby a gift of sorts one day. “It’s an imitation Akadoni hairpin I made, with a variation,” he said. Authentic Akadoni hairpins were fairly rare and quite expensive. Made from the exceptionally light and strong wood of dusk trees and uniquely hand-carved, they were popular throughout Coalition space.

  Gabby was unsure why Levine made such a thing, but was flattered. “It’s beautiful. It’s almost too lovely to wear.”

&nb
sp; “You’ll wear it,” Levine said. “Every day you’ll wear it. The variation I mentioned?” Gabby nodded. “There is a polycarb spike inside.” He pointed at a spot on the hairpin. “Press the catch, rotate three-quarters of a turn, and pull. It’s not the best weapon you could have, but it beats nothing at all. If the Pythans were to scan for metallic objects, that will breeze right past.”

  -(o)-

  Gabby became a fixture in the Pythan Administration building, a common sight. Common enough that she was often taken for granted or overlooked as one might view a filing cabinet along a wall, or a potted plant in the corner. This was an advantage for her.

  Carla and Neil ensconced themselves as well, as data processor and maintenance worker respectively.

  Beemer also became something of a fixture, or perhaps malignancy would be a better term. He was more than happy to inform on coworkers and neighbors, report conversations he overheard, and, as he did on more than one occasion, tell outright lies about people. These actions resulted in many arrests and detentions.

  Beemer also continued to show interest in Gabby. He would stop her in the halls when they passed and speak with her, visit her in her office, or sit next to her at lunch. While she found this distasteful and unpleasant, she was able to learn some things about how the Pythan security forces on Elspeth functioned.

  “You have to go with current, Gabs,” Beemer said once during a conversation in the cafeteria. “Nobody gave a damn what anyone believed before, but these Pythans do. So what. They want to hear us say we believe in Pyth with all our heart and soul, want us to pick an aspect to follow, then do it.” He shook his head. “These people that are bucking the system are idiots, especially the atheists. They don’t believe in anything, and they’re willing to get fucked up over nothing. If they’d just clam up about their non-belief and become pretend Pythans they’d be sitting pretty, but no. Fucking idiots. Nobody would know.”

  Beemer laughed. “Now the religious folks, they’re easy. There’s a lot of Bible-thumpers that won’t give up their shit, Gabs. Bibles, crosses, crucifixes, fishes, that kind of crap. You see somebody like that, you tell ol’ Beemer. The Pythans will bend those kinds over and give it to them up the ass. They’ll give me a pat on the back for the help. You help me, and I can help you. Hell, I’ll pat you wherever you want.”