Sirius Academy (Jezebel's Ladder)

by Scott Rhine

  “One of the people we flagged for manual checking. He stowed away on the mail boat just after he made the drop,” Zeiss said, showing her a diagram of the island and the routes the man took.

  “How did you make this map?”

  “I described the tool I needed at the club last weekend, and Sojiro had it built by class on Monday. It’s a little CPU-intensive but it does a great job tracking one person’s movements by image and badge recognition. It uses an algorithm—”

  “Save the geek talk for Daniel, sweetie; I don’t care. I go by results. Just send me a copy.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Conrad, you exceed expectations.”

  “Thank you, sir. I hear a but?”

  “They’ll switch to an easier target for the bombs. We can’t even hold assemblies in the main amphitheater because it’s too tempting a target.” As she fretted and planned, she told him, “Don’t mention to anyone how you did this.”

  “As usual, sir. But Sojiro will figure it out.”

  “Swear him to secrecy, too. That reminds me: no meetings of the supper club until we find the explosives. Too many of you are on the enemy watch list.”

  “Red isn’t going to like that.”

  “That’s why it’s coming from you.”

  “My reward for a job well done?”

  ****

  Sojiro drew a new character for Zeiss in his manga, a man who clung to the shadows but wore a fedora straight out of a black-and-white spy movie. The TA hung the sketch in his office for everyone to see.

  On Sundays, Zeiss wrote lesson plans and letters to his mother and sister while watching Sojiro paint a mural on the flight deck. The weather cooperated, raining hard only in the evening. Starting at the place where he’d been beaten and tortured, the artist decorated the gray place with an ever-expanding spiral of color and life. The friends wouldn’t talk, except for when Zeiss stopped Sojiro to take a drink or eat. Soon Dr. Marsh joined them, playing classical music on his radio as he observed. The Japanese student didn’t sketch on paper or draw chalk outlines on the walls and tarmac; rather, he sprayed bold arcs that evolved into amazing pictures. His depiction of the closest colonizable planet to Earth stopped all work on the flight deck for hours. Before long, several art fans camped out beside them to witness the impromptu scenes unfold. His portrait of Quan’s sacrifice in orbit brought tears to many eyes. Daniel approved decoration for the jogging path that would delineate a circuit exactly one kilometer long around the island. The complete loop was projected to take three years.

  On every night except Sundays, Zeiss went back to the sublevel after his normal duties. He stayed so late that he brought a cot down. He was staring at a diagram on the wall and straining the Academy computer system to come up with a pattern when he began to lose compute cycles to a newer task. The growing job had no name or owner and couldn’t be viewed directly as it kept mutating to avoid detection. However, he did find the files it accessed and what the search program was interested in. A bug in the code left distinctive footprints on the mainframe.

  Zeiss phoned Risa. She removed the pillow that covered her ears to answer. “Z, it’s midnight, what do you need?”

  “Red has her phone and messaging off. Could I get your help with an intervention?”

  “Dios mio, yes. She’s fixated on this program. Tip, tap, tip, tap all night.”

  “Punch the upper right-hand corner of her screen to accept my remote control after you hand her the phone. Then we can all get some sleep.”

  “I hear that,” she agreed.

  “What?” Red demanded, as she took the phone.

  “How’re you enjoying the semester?” He typed frantically while she was distracted.

  “Oceanography sucks. It’s nothing like what I signed up for. I learned more watching Finding Nemo. It’s boring.”

  “Gut it out. Suffering is good for the soul.”

  “What are you . . .? Hey, I’m locked out!”

  “This is an intervention, Red.”

  “But I need that data.”

  “You need sleep.”

  “I have to build an interaction chart of everybody on the island so I can decide who will make the best team and how I can recruit the people I want more easily.”

  “If you had that chart, would you go to bed at eleven?”

  “You’re not my parent!”

  “You’re right. I’m the security specialist who’s blocked off the receptor sites for a known breach.”

  “Rrr. Eleven thirty, and I get access back.”

  “Limited to one-tenth the island’s computer power,” he insisted.

  After a few choice swear words, she agreed. He mailed a file to her and pulled it up remotely on her screen. She gasped. “How did you manage the diagram so quickly? Are you sure you’re a nat?”

  “I’ve been running the same algorithm covertly for the last week. We have the same supplier, but my version has some fixes. Yours is a bull in a china shop that will get us both busted.”

  “Point made. What are the speckles to the side?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to analyze,” he admitted. “Places where people who don’t know each other cross paths, with some small time delay. I’m searching the security logs for agents doing dead drops. Maybe I can find other message sites, or other contacts for our bomber.”

  She shook her head, even though he couldn’t see her. “It won’t work. Every city in Europe has a fountain where, if you wait long enough, the entire town will walk by. You’ll get too many false hits.”

  He sighed. “Right, I just wasted a week.”

  “No, this is good analysis, Z. You’re great at finding patterns and inconsistencies in them. Trina can still use this diagram for a wide variety of security applications.”

  “So you’ll sleep?”

  “Yeah. Good night.”

  “Gracias, Z!” shouted Risa.

  ****

  That night, Zeiss summarized and mailed off his failure to Trina. Then, he saw the pile of essays he had yet to grade. His eyes began to flag while reading the first one. Remembering Daniel’s stash of drinks in the refrigerator, he indulged in one. It worked great. He was able to mail the grades to Professor Sorenson before sleep caught him again. Four hours later, he decided another beverage would be necessary to get his weary body through the morning.

  On his way into his first class, Taggart met him with a green slip of paper. “Random drug test over lunch. I know you’re clean, but Horvath says the staff has to set an example for the kids.”

  Zeiss accepted it cheerfully. “Not a problem. You have to do it every month. This is my first test since I got here.”

  At the clinic, the young nurse weighed him first. “Mr. Zeiss, you’ve lost ten pounds since your last visit.”

  He shrugged. “Sometimes when I’m busy, I forget to eat.”

  “I wish I had that problem,” the pretty brunette said, fishing for a compliment from the tall bachelor. The name tag on her chest read Betsy, and she leaned forward to make it easier for him to read.

  As he held out his arm for the blood-pressure cuff, he noticed a new poster naming the forbidden substances they screened for. “Hah. Looks like a typo. I think that should be cocaine and methamphetamine.”

  “No, it’s caffeine,” the nurse insisted. His blood pressure spiked. “Are you okay?” she asked putting a hand on his arm.

  “Sorry, I saw the needle and panicked,” he lied. “I hate needles.”

  She softened. “Since you just have the base screening, you can fill this instead,” the brunette said, handing him a plastic cup. “Use that bathroom.”

  Eyes wide, he staggered to the appointed bathroom. When he opened the door, Red was standing at the sink scrubbing sticky tape marks off her forehead. Zeiss hopped inside and closed the door behind him. Holding the cup out, he hissed, “Quick, pee in this.”

  She giggled. “Okay, turn around.”

  He faced the door. “Don’t you want to know why?”<
br />
  “No. If you’re breaking a rule, I’m in.” After she handed him the filled cup, she asked, “You know that martial arts tournament I’m in next week?”

  “I’ll be in the front row cheering. I’m one of the judges.”

  She smiled. “I know. I was hoping . . .” His face fell as he handed the cup back. “Hey, no. I wouldn’t ask you to cheat; I just wanted you to fill me in on the loopholes. I want to take all three tests the same day.”

  “They have to be done in order. The green belt is the kata plus board breaking.”

  “I’ve been practicing the kata to music.”

  “For brown, what’s your weapon?”

  “Bamboo sword from Kendo?”

  “I can drag our tests out a little and apply for your waiver because we’re using all the shinai until lunchtime. And for black belt, the teachers won’t be available until all the other belt tests are done.”

  “Sweet, thanks.”

  “Now, I have to get this sample back before she comes looking for me.”

  ****

  Three days later, Zeiss was working out with Daniel when his boss said, “You passed your surprise drug test.”

  “Good.”

  “But your glucose is high and you’re on day ten of your cycle,” the billionaire chuckled.

  “In a moment of weakness, I drank from your stash.”

  “Damn. Trina saw the late email and guessed. She’s going to pressure you to tell where the bottles are hidden.”

  “So our menstrual cycles are in sync. We share the same problem.”

  “I’ll tell Marsh it was a mix-up at the lab and to retest you.”

  “And bring Red in for her glucose levels,” Zeiss added. “That’s an advanced indicator of brain problems.”

  ****

  Red met Zeiss as he was setting up the martial arts testing arena. “More tests and supplements?” she hissed. “You owe me.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Let the supper club meet again.” When someone else passed nearby, she asked Zeiss loudly, “Did you get my music file?”

  “The instrumental? Yeah, why?”

  “I’m doing my kata like a gymnastics routine.”

  “Didn’t Professor Horvath compete in gymnastics?” he asked. Red stretched and feigned surprise. “Fine. I’ll try to convince Trina to allow the meetings again. I’ll have Alistair lay the groundwork this morning.”

  “Who?”

  “Grunt-Monkey, the Canadian military TA doing a thesis on zero-g combat. Then we convince Daniel to mention that your routine is an homage to her career. I’ll hit her with the request after you get your belt. She’ll be so happy I’ll be able to ask her for anything.”

  “Wait. You plan for stuff like that?”

  “I have a plan for everything. Most things don’t take my whole concentration, so I run disaster scenarios.”

  “That explains the survival class and a few other weird suggestions. Why would you waste a favor that powerful?”

  “Your milestone; your reward.”

  “You have a highly developed sense of fair play. I like that about you—some days.” She spun and did a few quick practice punches.

  “How’s the search going?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

  “We need twelve more team members. I have four almost-certain choices, seven coin flips, and one three-way tie.”

  Zeiss shook his head. “Better meet them in person. Math modeling only gets you so close. When the club meets next, have each member take about three candidates to research for the next week. Find out what’s not in the paperwork.”

  “Yes, Daniel complains that even if he has perspective employees followed by detectives for a month, he still has to meet them to make sure they’re not assholes.”

  “How’d I get through?” joked Zeiss.

  “You follow rules too much, but there’s no stick up your butt.”

  “Thanks. I’ll have to put that on my next T-shirt.” Zeiss tapped his tablet and nodded. “Speaking of clothing, I noticed that you’re showing a scandalous amount of ankle in that uniform.”

  She got a little flustered by the comment. “Marsh says I’ve been growing a lot.”

  “The measuring tape says the same.”

  “Some of it may be my inexpert laundering.”

  “Either way, can the club get you a new uniform for your belt celebration?”

  “Yes. Thank you for your vote of confidence.”

  He snorted. “Watching you practice, you clearly have more skill than your cover identity. Your biggest challenge will be getting the black belt without using things you aren’t supposed to know.”

  Red said, “Now if you don’t mind, I can’t get in the right mindset with boys commenting on my form.”

  He held up his hands. “All professional, no harassment.” He left her with a smile.

  Zeiss made a list of every background anomaly he’d ever found and would apply those checks to the rest of the people on the island. He discussed the toolkit with Trina as they waited. As she watched Red warm up, the anti-terrorist professor said, “She still has the cutest little monkey feet.”

  When the TA cleared his throat, she put on a serious mask and added, “I mean the monkey claw style she’s using. It’s what short people use against taller opponents.”

  Red was the last person through the last two exams but tested successfully for all three belts.

  The team carried her to the cafeteria afterward for a celebration. They gave her a paper crown with the caption, ‘Reinita Monita’—the cute little monkey queen. Zeiss didn’t have to ask the question about reinstating the club; he just raised his eyebrows and she said, “Go play with your friends.”

  Chapter 21 – Advanced Seminar

  Zeiss ran the new background filter on the entire island with only two hits. One was a maintenance worker who had lied on his resume; he was summarily dismissed. The other was a professor guilty of bigamy; he was using the island’s remote location to hide from both spouses. The dean retained the bigamist, deciding that this piece of information, given the proper supervision, made him a more loyal employee.

  On the last day of Red’s second semester, Zeiss chatted with the men of the club on the flight deck while they watched the Mori executive craft hover in for a landing. Since the Half-Pint was unveiled, hybrid alien-tech VTOs were all the rage. “How’s the team shaping up?”

  Auckland said, “About a third of the people we investigated got blackballed. The psychiatrist was particularly annoying. Back to the drawing board for several of the slots, but we’ve started recruiting operations on a Korean propulsion specialist—Park.”

  Zeiss nodded. “I’ve seen his papers on the ion drive—good choice. Wasn’t Red going to approach Llewellyn next to be copilot?”

  “She couldn’t get on the same training runs as Lou,” Auckland explained. “She switched her flights to Sundays next semester so she can bump into him more. It means our club meetings change to Saturday.”

  Sojiro asked, “Any more luck on the spy front, Señor Fedora?”

  “Nothing official.”

  “Unofficially?” asked the artist.

  “I ran the filter on Daddy Mori’s flight crew that’s coming to pick up our pop queen,” Zeiss whispered.

  The Japanese student winced on his left side, as if he’d heard a random note from the brass section of an orchestra. “That would be an insult if Mori found out. Daniel-san recently referred to him as a valued partner.”

  Zeiss glared at him to shut up. No one else knew Daniel’s true identity or that he sent out routine press releases about corporate events. “I’m 98 percent sure that one of those guys is really Omar, an Azerbaijani member of a known terrorist group.”

  “Having his daughter kidnapped or killed on our island would be an even bigger insult,” admitted Sojiro.

  “So you see my dilemma. I need you guys for the extra 2 percent,” the large, blond TA said looking at each man for confirmati
on.

  Toby summarized, “Z, after all the times you came through for us, we’ve got your back.”

  “Why isn’t Red here?” asked Sojiro.

  “We need to be subtle,” Zeiss replied. “Herk, do you know Russian?”

  “Well enough. But someone knowing Russian wouldn’t be enough proof.”

  The TA weighed alternatives and told him part of the truth. “Let’s say there are divergent identity trails. The nasty one applied for a license to work an oil rig in Kuwait, had a tattoo visible on his neck, and spoke Russian. The rig blew up before he was officially hired.”

  “So we err on the side of caution,” decided Herk.

  “Good man,” said Zeiss. “Sojiro, do you still have the Taser that Horvath gave you?”

  The artist nodded and took a device the size of a pack of cards out of his backpack.

  “They’re not supposed to see me or anyone in security for this to work. Walk past like you’re heading to the Half-Pint.” Zeiss then whispered the rest of the plan. “I’ll get Horvath to stay at the gate unless there’s an incident. The shack is eight meters away. Because of Sojiro’s medical history, she has a group of very fast medics standing by. They’ll check Omar’s neck for a pulse and any other evidence.”

  The men nodded as Zeiss left the deck. In the office, Trina listened to his plan and asked, “Why you?”

  “My way nobody gets hurt,” explained the TA. “I’ve checked your record, ma’am. You’re effective, but leave scorched earth. I was Solomon’s friend, whatever atrocities he committed. I don’t want someone else’s blood on my hands.”

  “Conrad, I’m letting you do this as a personal favor. If you botch this in front of Mori . . .”

  “I’ll fall on my sword, and you had no idea.”

  Fortunately, the execution of the plan went better than anyone could’ve imagined. After most of the foreign crew unloaded and dispersed to grab fresh supplies, their suspect attached an RV-style utility umbilical to the craft. In blue worker fatigues, Herkemer wandered by. In Russian, he said, “Omar, your fly’s unzipped.”

  The suspect immediately checked it.

  Sojiro zapped him at range, and the other two team members helped the medics drag the terrorist suspect to the guard shack.