“Name?”
“Agilyar. Teressa Agilyar.” The young woman held out her passport and the policewoman took it.
“Planet of origin and province?”
“Estradeh, Nuvo Colombyen Provensa,” the applicant answered.
The Customs officer typed this in on her holoboard and almost immediately looked back up at the girl.
“Step over there,” she instructed, indicating the same area where the bearded man had been sent. “Someone will be with you shortly.” A slight tension in her voice, and a change in her aura told Sarah that something serious had cropped up.
Using her special access, she received a copy of the message that the Customs Officer had just received. It said, ‘Hold for further investigation; subject is a former member of the 14th Fleet, assigned RNS La Varenza.’
This was the very fleet that had gone renegade and threatened to attack the Sisterhood with biological weapons. It had eventually been located and captured, and no bio-weapons had been found, but this didn’t change the fact that the woman’s loyalties were extremely questionable.
Still, she could be used, she thought, if only as an unwitting double agent. Everyone had their potential value, even males and rebels like this woman.
She inclined her head for Maya to follow and they walked over to the desk. “Officer? I am Sarah n’Jan with the RSE”, she said quietly. “Who do you have in holding right now?”
The officer brought up her holojector and turned the imaging pedestal around so that she could read the names, and their sexes. There were two men—including the bearded creature, two ‘women’ who were actually transgendered males, several real women and a pair of men who were still in the process of changing their sex.
And it was only 02:91 in the morning. According to the list, they had received over a hundred applicants a day and had nearly a thousand that were pending further investigation.
She looked up at the policewoman. “I’d like everyone in your holding area, and any others who are waiting, transferred to the custody of the military police detachment at Claire d’Layne Naval Base,” she instructed. “Our agency will conduct the follow-up investigations. Please tell all the applicants that they will be going through additional screening interviews if they ask you why this is being done. The same goes for anyone else that you decide to hold from now on.”
The officer knew better than to salute her when she was in plain-clothes, and only inclined her head in assent. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Thank you for your cooperation,” Sarah added.
What are we going to do with them? Maya thought as they walked away.
Give them over to the professionals, Sarah replied, and then, depending on their actual loyalties, either enlist their services, or release them and track them straight back to the renegades—like that woman with the 14th Fleet.
They also represent an important lesson to apply to your training. Even those who hate us, or who would otherwise prove unsuitable as citizens, might have potential intelligence value. In our line of work, no resource should ever be allowed to go to waste.
Maya immediately appreciated the wisdom of this, and after a glance back over her shoulder at the people in the holding area, quietly indicated her agreement as they took the lift upstairs.
Once they arrived at Sarah’s office, Sarah paused and took stock of the room’s contents, sighing in contentment. The space was decorated in exactly the same manner as her apartment in Thermadon; everything was plain and functional.
The only ornaments were a portrait of Anne Marie Rensolear, the first Chairwoman of the Sisterhood, and the two flags that flanked it. One was the blue and white national banner, and the other, the somber black standard of the RSE.
The entire space was a homage, not to Sarah’s Nyxian ancestry, which inclined towards the more elaborate, but to her minimalistic Aran side. The women who looked back to ancient Asia for their heritage tended towards the Spartan, and in this case, Sarah was definitely no exception.
It was hard for Maya not to laugh knowingly at the message that this sent any visitor. Beyond dealing with an implacable agent of the State, a newcomer would receive no clues about whom they were dealing with, and have no preparation for whatever Sarah intended for them.
Still, Maya held her mirth in check. She knew that what she was seeing was not pretentiousness by any means. It was just as real, and as serious as its owner.
If Sarah sensed any of her amusement, she chose to ignore it, and strode up to the desk instead, pausing only to pick up a silver data stylus before returning it to precisely the same spot. Next, she turned her attention to a pair of plastic packages that were sitting off to one side.
She examined the topmost one, and her smile widened when she confirmed its contents. “I see that my delivery has arrived ahead of us. Pardon me for a moment, Maya.”
Taking the parcel with her, she went to a spot on the wall which opened up to reveal a small, private bathroom.
When she returned a few minutes later, Maya did a double take. Her hair was done up in a severe military style bun, and she was wearing what at first glance, seemed like a naval uniform.
Looking more closely however, she realized that the insignia over the left breast was the Agency’s Black Rose, and although she was no expert in military garments, Sarah’s rank didn’t seem like anything the Star Service used. Accessing the Embassy’s omni through her psiever, she found its equivalent in Marine-style ranks instead. Apparently, Sarah was a Colonel.
“Well,” Sarah inquired. “Do you like it?”
The black tunic and pants, knee length boots, and Sarah’s ever-present Carrissa dagger riding on her heavy belt, made her look like a villain from an adventure realie. Which, knowing her nature as well as Maya did, suited her perfectly.
As Sarah turned to her desk and picked up the second package, Maya also noticed that she was wearing her needlegun openly, in a black leather holster. This final touch only completed her sinister image.
“It’s very…um…nice, Sarah. Severe…but nice,” Maya answered reservedly. ‘Severe’ was definitely the best descriptor, if ‘official-and–really-scary-looking’ hadn’t already been taken by someone else.
“Good,” Sarah replied with satisfaction. “Then you should be quite happy with yours.” She held out the second package. “Go ahead. Get dressed.”
Maya was incredulous. “I’m sorry--what?!”
“Get dressed, Maya. This is your new uniform.”
Maya backed away from the bundle as if it were a venomous snake, waving her hands in refusal. “Ohh no I won’t! That comerci you made me put on was bad enough!”
“Yes, you will,” Sarah said, pushing the package into her arms. “This is part of the new Agency regulations. Don’t you recall the Chairwoman’s announcement? We’re not in the OAE anymore. Now we’re the Regila da Securité par Estat, the State Security Service, and we must dress accordingly for formal occasions. So, go get into your nice new uniform. We have a date with the President and the Director of the ESN in an hour.”
“Give me a fekking break, Sarah!” Maya protested. “I’m not going to dress up in that stupid thing and play soldier!”
“For one thing Maya, you’re not playing, and for two, you are not exactly a soldier,” Sarah said with a smug grin. “Actually Lieutenant, you’re probably closer to being a policewoman than anything else.”
“A fekking kaaper?!!” Maya spluttered in disbelief. “Me? You--you’re joking!”
“I am not jesting,” she returned. “Among other things, our new Agency now has full police powers. So, it appears that your worst nightmare has finally come to fruition. Whether you like it or not, you are now part of the forces of good and justice. Please--try not to faint.”
Maya didn’t swoon, but she did regard the parcel with a mixture of disbelief and outrage.
“Besides which,” Sarah added with an evil expression, “It has often been said that the best policewoman is the one who can think like a cr
iminal. I am certain that we can both agree that you are well developed in that particular department. Now, off with you!”
Maya didn’t share in her amusement. Instead she trudged into the bathroom like a convict on her way to execution. A few minutes later, and after uttering a number of colorful profanities, she reemerged.
Seeing her, Sarah shook her head, looking pointedly at Mayas shoulder length hair. She had kept it unbound.
“Maya,” she said reprovingly. “Your hair.”
“What?! What’s wrong with my hair?” Maya demanded.
“It simply won’t do,” Sarah explained. “Not if you are to wear your cap properly.” She turned to another box that Maya hadn’t noticed, and opened it, producing a peaked cap. It was black like the rest of the uniform, with white piping, and it sported the Sisterhood Mirror of Venus on its crest, and just beneath this, on the band, a black enameled rose with two crossed swords.
“You’re kidding right?” the young woman asked in total disbelief. “I have to wear that?!”
“Yes,” Sarah answered with a malicious grin, “you do--whenever you are in public and unless you are indoors. You will also have to wear it properly; so, as they say in the Star Service, ‘Bun up, sailor!’”
“Oooo!” the girl huffed in exasperation. “Great goddess!” She stamped her foot petulantly and returned to the bathroom.
When she returned, Sarah nodded approvingly and handed her the cap. Maya took it, and put it on with an expression that was the very epitome of distaste.
“Much better,” Sarah said. “Now you look every centimeter the proper officer.”
“I feel like a stupid smoof,” Maya answered sullenly. “So, should I salute you now General?”
“That can wait,” Sarah returned, completely unfazed by her sarcasm. ”We will however make a point of adding basic military protocol to your lessons, as well as a PTS lesson feed to supply you the basic police academy curriculum. Here is your first nugget of wisdom however; my correct title is Colonel, not General, Lieutenant.”
Maya glared hatefully at her, but Sarah ignored this, donned her own cap and gathered up a valise from her desk. She left without even checking to see if Maya was following.
Trailing behind, Maya felt truly preposterous, but as they reached the hoverlimo--this time one bearing official seals, she did have to privately admit that there were a few positive things about her ridiculous costume. Like the protective body suit that she wore on their missions, all the black in the uniform did do nice things for her hair, and the boots at least, were quite sexy. Creepy, but definitely sexy.
The Ambassador was already inside the vehicle, and Sarah greeted the woman politely as they took their own seats. She even allowed Maya to remove her headgear--for the ride only--and then sent a message to her by psiever so that the Ambassador could not overhear their conversation. The Sisterhood’s official emissary had to be able to maintain deniability, after all.
I need to brief you about your role in this meeting, Sarah thought to her. While the Ambassador speaks with the President and her staff, I want you to practice your skills reading them. I will expect you to inform me about every direction that their thoughts take.
Maya wasn’t entirely certain that she was ready for such an assignment. She had trained with Lady Ananzi, and they had practiced often enough on field trips into Nocturne, choosing subjects out of the crowds at random, but this was much different. She shared these doubts with Sarah.
Sarah, however, felt differently.
You are ready and you will certainly not be the only one doing any reading, she assured her. I will also be doing so. Think of this more as an opportunity for further practice and the chance to strengthen your abilities. I am certain that between the two of us, we will manage to gather a great deal of valuable information.
Is that it then? Maya inquired.
No, Sarah thought back. During the break I will need you to help me identify individuals who might be suited to work for us. As assets.
Why? Maya asked.
Sarah responded with the mental equivalent of a patient, but long suffering sigh. Finding the right people working in key positions will help us to accomplish our goal to destabilize the Ernan regime. When the Rightists come to power, some of those assets will survive the change and transition over to serve in the new government. They will be able to assist us in maintaining control over our allies. We are not about to let our new friends stray from the path like Ernan has.
Left with no alternative, Maya did her best to simply enjoy the ride. Their meeting was being held at the headquarters for the ESN, rather than the Presidential Palace, and when they arrived, she saw that the building stood in sharp contrast to the Embassy. It was a hypermodern structure, by ETR standards at least.
Maya knew exactly why this location had been selected. The ETR was trying to overawe them. And the tactic didn’t work; she had seen more imposing structures on backwater worlds in the Sisterhood.
Although it was obvious that the security personnel were unhappy with the needleguns that they were carrying, they were waved past the checkpoints. Their uniforms, and the presence of the Ambassador, stifled any objections and they were quickly escorted to the chamber that had been set aside for the conference.
The President and the rest of her senior advisors were waiting there, ranged around a large “O” shaped table, along with the Director of the ESN and a small army of assistants and security personnel. Their own places, as it turned out, were directly opposite Sanda Ernan.
After exchanging the customary pleasantries, the Ambassador went straight to work, and Maya decided it was time to start with her assignment. She already knew Ernan, although not well. Isabaal Castraa, the ESN Director, was a complete mystery however, and she quickly decided to focus her attention on the President first. She was certain that she would have better luck if she began her reading with someone who was reasonably familiar.
The actual process of reading always began as a general impression, a ‘taste’ of the target’s energy, followed by a deeper sense of the state of their overall being. This, Lady Ananzi had told her, was something that everyone, whether they were a ‘Talenti’, a psi, or a ‘Normali’, an ungifted person, could and did do, on a regular basis.
Everyone had the latent ability to gather a basic intuitive sense of another person and their emotional state. The difference between this, and what she had been taught, was that a psi knew that she was doing it, and could go much deeper, penetrating to the very heart of the other person’s true feelings.
Mindful of her training, Maya took a moment to feel everyone around her, and could tell that as a group, none of the ETR officials were happy to see them, and some of them were even hostile. It was a vast change from the time when the Ernan government had still been new. Back then, the men and women in the room would have been evenly divided; between those who supported the Sisterhood, those who didn’t, and those who were still undecided.
Now, everyone on the other side of the table seemed to be at odds with her nation, especially Ernan.
This also tallied with what her eyes were telling her. Just as Sarah had claimed, Ernan no longer wore a comerci. Today, she was dressed in an ETR-styled business suit, and its muted colors reflected those of her nation’s flag. Maya wasn’t certain if this was intentional, or an unconscious betrayal of her stance, but either way the message was abundantly clear.
Ernan had definitely changed. She had gone from being a friend to an unwilling ally waiting for any chance to betray them. Outwardly, she was pleasant enough, and even smiling at the Ambassador as they spoke, but her friendliness was wooden, and there was no warmth whatsoever in her eyes.
She reported this to Sarah and her companion merely gave her a subtle nod, indicating that she had already perceived the same thing. Maya knew that it was time to go deeper, and she opened her mind to Ernan’s thoughts.
Instead of gaining a deeper sense of the woman’s emotions, and then accessing her thoughts
themselves, all that she was able to gather was a muddy, incoherent impression. Surprised by this, Maya tried harder, and only managed to achieve the same dismal results.
Her inner consternation must have been obvious to Sarah because she sent her a message. Forget Ernan, she thought to her. Try the Director of the ESN instead.
Maya did so, and promptly ran into the same psychic wall. I can’t get anything from her either, she informed her. Am I doing something wrong?
No, Sarah replied. You are performing all of the steps properly. What you are experiencing is merely another fine example of the damage that Dr. Martana and his little School did to us.
Maya gave her a quizzical expression and Sarah explained. Thanks to him and his study of the Atalanta’s crew, the ETR is fully aware of our psi’s, but not the full extent of their abilities, nor who among us possesses talents.
So they have taken a simple, yet effective step to attempt to confound us. You cannot see them, but Ernan and her senior staff are all wearing special wire meshes embedded under their scalps.
They are? Maya asked. She tried looking more closely, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.
You won’t detect them visually, so don’t bother, Sarah advised her, Trust me though, they are there. Do you remember the period when Ernan appeared in public wearing a hat or a scarf?
Yes, Maya answered, recalling the footage. I do. It had occurred six months after Ernan had taken office, and at the time, while it had seemed a bit odd, she had simply assumed that it was a local fashion and had let it go at that.
She was growing her hair back, Sarah informed her. According to our agents, the process involves the surgical implantation of a wire mesh which is composed of special alloys, and the head must be shaved as part of the operation. Hence the use of wigs, which Ernan tends to eschew, or hats or scarves to conceal the doctor’s handiwork.
Granted, it is a rather primitive solution, but still reasonably effective against all but the most forceful forms of reading. I could have simply told you about it, but I thought it better that you experience it for yourself. A clever little people, aren’t they?
Sisterhood of Suns: Daughters of Eve Page 7