Sisterhood of Suns: Daughters of Eve

by Martin Schiller

  She closed her eyes, and once again, her captive began to writhe in agony.

  “Don’t worry, she’ll rip out whatever they implanted in him,” a voice behind Kaly said. It was Cabo Vasquaaz. “Lieutenant sa’Tela always does. Amandra knows how to peel their heads open like a little tin can. We’ll have what we want soon enough.”

  Grateful for the excuse to look away, Kaly turned to her. “What’s going to happen to him after this?” She had to know, but she was also afraid hear the answer.

  “That’s not a question you really need to worry about, chica,” Vasquaaz grinned. “But since you’re new, I’ll tell you. We’ll turn him over to the Regular Army.” Several of the Specia men standing next to her seemed to be amused by this statement and smiled wolfishly.

  “And then?”

  “Depends on who picks him up,” Vasquaaz answered casually, “If they’re Loyalistas, he’ll go to prison for a little while, and they’ll try to warn their friends. If they’re Dereyhiya, Rightists, he’ll be da una deysaparce.”

  Kaly understood the term. “Disappeared?”

  Vasquaaz drew a finger across her throat. “Si’a, deysaparce. One of the disappeared.” She laughed at this, and her men laughed with her.

  Kaly didn’t join in, and she also didn’t press for any additional details. Instead, she did her best not to think about any of it, and settled her gaze on a blank spot on the opposite wall. It was much better than watching the interrogation, or speculating about their prisoner’s ultimate fate.

  Vasquaaz wasn’t exaggerating about Sa’Tela’s abilities. Less than ten more minutes passed before the Kalian stepped away from the prostrate figure and the MP’s came in to drag him out. She gave her invisible audience a curt nod and met them out in the hall.

  “I have his handler’s name and address,” she told them. “Along with the message that he was supposed to deliver. We’ll analyze the data and get a report over to Major ebed Karri once we have something firm.”

  Thanking her, Ben Di escorted them back to their barracks. It had been a long night, and in all likelihood, they would have another mission waiting for them the next day. As soon as they had cared for their weapons, everyone headed for their racks.

  Kaly wasn’t surprised at all by the dreams that she had that night. They alternated between the enigmatic red-head who still haunted her, and terrifying images of a huge black insect that kept trying to touch her face and invade her mind. The insect had Sa’Tela’s face.

  ***

  Located deep in its sub-basement, the Embassy’s COMINT center served as Sarah’s second workplace. It was staffed with the majority of the station’s personnel, who were not agents, but rather, specialists and technicians.

  To protect against eavesdropping, and any form of attack, it was heavily armored and shielded, and proof against the best that the ETR, or any of the other enemies of the Sisterhood could ever hope to field against it. A dark and windowless place, it always felt to Maya like she was journeying into some mythical underworld.

  As usual, Sarah occupied her seat in the cubicle in the very center of the chamber, looking like a starship commander in charge of a great warship. Which in a sense, she was. The COMINT center offered her as much information as a fleet of Isis Class ships could provide, and many such vessels did just that.

  In cooperation with the RSE, every Sisterhood spacecraft that parked itself over Nuvo Bolivar lent its surveillance services to the center, feeding it on a round the clock basis. Their combined data stream managed to capture almost every signal that the governmental machine of the Esteral Terrana Rapabla created, including many that the Republic erroneously believed were too well encrypted to be overheard.

  At that precise instant, the USSNS Elizabeth C. Howland was overhead, sending a data stream downside on multiple Com bands. This was being displayed on one of the center’s large vid screens.

  It concerned activity at the Rabertio Gonzaala National Armory, and as Maya crossed the COMINT center, she watched as several ETR officers walked together across a quad, completely unaware that their activities were being monitored from hundreds of kilometers overhead. Thanks to the considerable computer power being brought to bear, all extraneous noise had been filtered out and the clarity and quality of their words was as sharp and clear as if someone had been standing right next to them with the microphone. Maybe clearer, she mused; even the little sounds that the wind made, or the intermittent buzzing of insects were completely absent.

  On another screen, a less sophisticated but equally important surveillance operation was under way. A map of the capitol and its surrounding communities was on display, with red dots flashing at various points. Each of these dots had a number next to it, and those with the higher values flashed imperatively. These were Loyalista spotters, broadcasting their observations back to their handlers. The numbers next to each position represented the probability of capture.

  There were several spotters stationed in and around Claire d’Layne, and two had been assigned confidence figures higher than 100. Green triangles, representing RSE strike teams, or military police units, were moving towards those points at top speed. With luck, and the Goddesses’ blessings, the rebels at each location would be caught alive and become Amandra Sa’Tela’s guests.

  Leaving the outcome to powers much higher than herself, she stopped watching the map and approached Sarah to see what tasks she had in store for her that day. It was a given that the woman would have something in mind, and she earnestly hoped that it wouldn’t turn out to be another grueling session with a stack of intel files. Or even worse, confinement in a chair alongside one of the COMINT techs. That was boring duty.

  Sarah addressed her as she came near. “Maya, I feel that it is time that we switch the emphasis of your training from machine-based information gathering methods to a more old fashioned, yet equally reliable source of data; humint, or human intelligence.’

  “I am going to partner you with one of our field assets. Agent Saantoz is quite talented, and you are to follow her lead. She will give you the chance to observe what the Agency does in the field and also give you the opportunity to carry out your own specific mission.”

  “Okay,” Maya answered, folding her arms. “What’s that?”

  “It will be to gather more intelligence on Isabaal Castraa’s assistant. Do you recall the woman? She was the one that you thought could not be ‘turned’ by us.”

  Maya frowned. She remembered her.

  “I am giving her to you as a special project and you are going to help us to make her into an asset. Think of it as an extra credit project just like the ones that you received in primary.”

  “Lovely,” Maya retorted. “Any hints on just exactly how I am to accomplish my mission, oh Mighty and Omnipotent One?”

  Sarah ignored her sarcasm with the ease of long practice, “Only this; after we identified her, we did a little checking. She has no criminal associations, and neither do any of her relatives. She has no known vices, and has never been in trouble for anything, with anyone. As for her politics, they are conservative, but not excessively so, and she is well trusted by her superiors. In fact, they consider her to be above reproach. Naturally, she also has a high level security clearance.”

  “This is a joke, right?” Maya asked disbelievingly.

  “No,” Sarah replied. “Not in the least. I told you the truth when I said that anyone can be turned. You are a bright girl. I’m sure you’ll find a way to manage the task, and you can call on Agent Saantoz for suggestions. Listen to her. A ‘lectri is waiting for you up in the garage.”

  Maya rewarded her with a scowl, and left the COMINT center.

  The vehicle that was standing by for her was the usual plain, unmarked version, and the driver was a non-descript woman who could have fit in anywhere in Nuvo Bolivar. Maya said nothing to her as she got in, and they drove out through one of the multiple exits underneath the embassy.

  When it had functioned as the Treasury building, the
se secure passages had afforded couriers the ability to come and go in anonymity. Their particular exit ended at a false wall which opened and admitted them into a car-sized elevator. The moment that the ‘lectri was inside of it, it rose, and delivered them to the lower floor of a public parking structure. This in turn emptied out onto a busy downtown street.

  After merging into traffic, Maya’s driver took them several blocks before pulling over and parking. “Go inside that shopping center,” she told her.

  Maya looked beyond her and saw a sign proclaiming the existence of a large mall just down the street.

  “Go to ‘La Rozza can Miya Corazan’ and browse the clothing there,” the driver added. “Select a red blouse and a green skirt. After that, ask the clerk to use their restrooms.”

  Maya made no comment. She fully understood the need for such elaborate steps. The ESN knew all about the secret exits from the Embassy and they watched the comings and goings of the staff quite closely. It was also a certainty that their ‘lectri had been followed.

  Sweeping the street with her eyes, she got out and walked to the mall. She also ‘felt’ around her for any telltale signs that she was being shadowed. The fact that neither action produced anything noteworthy didn’t assure her however, and she kept her senses open all the way to the entrance.

  Once inside, she quickly located the store on an interactive map kiosk and began to make her way towards it. Almost immediately, she ‘felt’ someone following her, and did her best to seem as if she hadn’t noticed.

  ‘La Rozza’ proved to be a high-end establishment, and as soon as she entered it, a saleswoman came forwards to assist her. In short order, she found the blouse and skirt she had been sent for, and then asked after the restroom.

  As the clerk pointed the way, Maya saw a woman entering the store, and guessed that she was her ‘tail’. A quick read produced nothing except a jumbled impression of the woman’s thoughts—and in the process, positively identified her. The new arrival was with the ESN, and wearing one of their primitive meshes under her scalp. This made Maya smile to herself; although the mesh masked the agent’s thoughts, it also worked against her simply by being there.

  Passing a display, she caught the woman’s reflection in it. The agent was pretending to browse a rack of coats, which also put her in a position to enjoy a clear view of the rear of the store and the restrooms. It was a classic surveillance maneuver, straight out of Maya’s studies, and her own street experience as a shoplifter.

  Borrowing on this, she briefly evaluated the emergency exit at the very back. A good thief always had a way out for themselves, but when she saw that it was rigged with an alarm, she abandoned the idea. It wasn’t a viable escape route. Even had it been unwired, it was also highly likely that the ESN would have other people in the mall, and that they would be watching the service passage behind the store like aerhawks. The only choice was to proceed, and discover what the restroom had to offer.

  Just as she reached the door, another patron exited, and they briefly made eye contact. To her surprise, she heard the other woman thinking to her over her psiever.

  Dress in the uniform inside the bathroom and use your symbiote to exit the store. Take the first service corridor to your right and go out into the truck court. I’ll delay your friend.

  Chuckling, Maya entered the tiny space. A jumpsuit was resting on the toilet along with a matching hat and a locking courier’s bag.

  “It always pays to accessorize,” she said to herself.

  Unfolding the jumpsuit, she saw that it proclaimed to the entire universe that she was an employee of ‘Rapaddia Serversa Carrio’, Rapid Courier Service, and that her name was Maaria. She shed her clothing immediately, stuffing it into the courier’s bag and donned the uniform, making certain to tuck her hair under the hat. A thought from the agent outside reached her as she completed her transformation.

  Time to go.

  The sound of a commotion followed right on the heels of this, and just before she embraced her symbiote she heard the agent yelling.

  “Hey bitch! You just stole something right out of my purse! No you don’t—you’re waiting right here for the police!”

  The rest of the fracas was lost in the droning roar that the Drow’voi device converted every conversation into, but as she came out, the frozen tableau of the two figures struggling, and the worried saleswoman trying to intervene, met her eyes and brought another smile to her face. To the best of her knowledge, the ESN still didn’t know anything about the symbiotes and they would have a deuce of a time figuring out how she had managed to evade them. It was all in a day’s fun, and now she was looking forwards to whatever else was in store for her.

  Just to add to her cheer, she also made the point of stealing the ESN agent’s pocketbook from her purse and exchanging it with some of the friendly agent’s valuables. Not only would the woman be missing her identification, but the presence of items that were clearly not hers would cause a whole galaxy of problems when the police or security arrived. As Maya saw it, this not only helped with the diversion, but paid her back for all of her inconvenience with some lunch money, courtesy of the ESN.

  Ten seconds later, she was well away from the store and entering the service passage. When she was out of the public view, she released her symbiote and returned to normal time. It took her a few more seconds to banish the nauseating effects of the device, but then she was ready and headed off in the direction of the dock.

  There were several vehicles parked there, although only one of them belonged to the courier service. A woman wearing a uniform just like hers was sitting inside of it, hands on the wheel. It took Maya a moment to place her, and then she recognized her from the operation at the Lida Biolabs more than two years earlier.

  At the time, Agent Saantoz had been a member of La Ermanyaa. The radical feminist group had taken over the town of Alquibar in the early days of the alliance with the Sisterhood. They had subsequently been extracted by a Marine Marauder Team to be trained by the Agency for ‘black’ operations, including the Lida mission. Although Sanda Ernan had been placed in power since then, and many of the key posts in her government were now held by women, it was clear by Saantoz’s presence alone, that she and her sisters were still actively serving the interests of the Sisterhood.

  “N’Kaaryn?” Saantoz asked. “You ready? We have a long day ahead of us.”

  Maya got into the vehicle. “What’s up first?” she asked.

  “Breakfast,” the agent told her.

  “Oh, that’s good. I was getting hungry. There’s a little place that I know--“

  Saantoz cut her off. “Forget it. We’re going to Fondaa Comdidanda. When we get there, we’ll order coffee and some fruit. Nothing else.”

  “Okay…fine,” Maya agreed. “Coffee and fruit it is.”

  The Fondaa Comdidanda was only a few minutes away and turned out to be an inexpensive and unexceptional little restaurant. Its customers were mainly workers like themselves and a few businesspeople from the downtown offices, and because it was getting late in the morning, they were able to get a booth without waiting. When the waitress arrived to serve them, Maya placed her order exactly as Saantoz had instructed her to.

  Presently, the waitress returned with their order, but instead of bringing it right to their table, she stopped for a moment to refill the coffee cup of another customer. The pair chatted briefly, and then the man drained his cup, paid his bill and left. This wasn’t anything remarkable and the only reason that Maya had even noticed it was that it had caused a delay in receiving their own order.

  She also observed that when their food reached them, Saantoz only sipped at her coffee, and completely ignored the fruit. It was obvious that this was some kind of signal to whoever was observing them, and Maya carefully copied her.

  Even so, she regretted the fact that their covert message hadn’t also involved consuming their meal. She really was famished and as soon as their exciting day of high-level cloak and dagger work
allowed it, she was going to demand that they stop off somewhere and get themselves a real breakfast. Being a spy was proving to be hungry work.

  Finally, Saantoz put down her cup and signaled the waitress for the bill. When it arrived, she indicated Maya. “She’ll be paying.”

  The waitress smiled and handed Maya the paper, and as she took it, she realized that there were actually two bills. One listed their order, and the other was blank except for two handwritten messages.

  They read “1,000,000 P” and “50,000 P for T. V.”

  “Keep the bill,” Saantoz said in a low voice. “Put it away in your courier bag.”

  Maya did so, and as soon as the waitress had returned with her change, they left.

  Once again, their journey was a short one, and it ended at the curb in front of an office building. “Go to the second floor,” Saantoz told her. “You want the offices of the Mercantal Finansa Colectavo. Tell the receptionist that you have a delivery for Ms. Rabartya Vaasco. Hand Ms. Vaasco the bill and wait for her to give you some packages.”

  “Sure thing,” Maya replied. It was becoming patently clear that in addition to enduring starvation, the job of a field agent involved a lot of mysterious errands with little, if any, explanation to accompany them. Even Sarah, for all her shadows and cobwebs, was proving to be more garrulous than Agent Saantoz.

  This time, Maya reached the offices of the Mercantal without any sense that she was being followed. The establishment itself proved to be quite modern by local standards. It also lacked anything that offered a visitor a single clue about what the firm actually did. Even the name, Commercial Finance Group, was fuzzy. The entire office seemed to say to the passersby, “There’s nothing interesting happening here. Go back to sleep and move on.”

  And most people probably did that very thing, Maya reasoned. She, however, was not as gullible, and came to the conclusion that she was standing in the lobby of one of the many front companies that the Agency used. Sarah had mentioned their existence to her, and their function. Such firms conducted the business end of the Sisterhood’s espionage operations, and laundered its money. They were also sources of additional cash. When she was escorted to Ms. Vaasco’s private office, her conclusion was confirmed by the woman herself.