On The Imperium’s Secret Service (Imperium Cicernus)

by Christopher Nuttall

  “They’re backing off,” Mai said. “And they’ve dumped us one hell of a lot of forms they expect us to fill in before we can land on the planet.”

  “Typical,” Fitz said. He picked up a datapad and downloaded the forms to it. “I’ll read through them, fill them out and then upload them for their attention.”

  “If any of them pay any attention to them at all,” Mai muttered. She had less patience with officialdom than Mariko. “Do you think they’ll just throw them in the electronic shredder and forget about them?”

  “Of course not,” Fitz said. “They will have the papers scanned by an expert program, which will blink up an alert if there’s anything wrong with them.” He smiled. “Now do you see why someone in Richardson’s place is so dangerous?”

  ***

  Sumter had only been settled for three hundred years, but it was already the most densely-populated planet in the sector, according to the welcome pack transmitted by the gunboats. Five million humans – there were no figures on alien settlers – had moved to Sumter to enjoy the greatest economic opportunities since the first expansion into space, a claim that had Mariko shaking her head in disbelief. As the Sector Capital, Sumter was assured of a great deal of development, but there was so much paperwork that it was hard to imagine that anything actually got done. A semi-autonomous world like Karats would be more likely to enjoy unbridled economic growth, assuming it discarded most of the red tape that kept the Imperium from developing too quickly.

  The planet was orbited by a dozen orbital stations, a medium-sized shipyard and a single, brooding orbital fortress. A quick check revealed that the Sector Governor and the Sector Admiral, the man charged with defending the entire sector against secessionists, alien rebels and outside threats, made their homes on the fortress. Perhaps they had good reason to fear that Sumter wasn't as safe as the welcome pack claimed.

  Mariko worked her way through the paperwork with a sigh, even though she was mainly checking Fitz’s work. The bureaucrats wanted to know everything about the Wally West, starting with her last five ports of call and her crew’s medical records. There was a danger that a cross-species infection could spread from world to world on starships, but the threat was vastly overstated, providing nothing more than an excuse to harass shippers until they agreed to pay a bribe. Fitz had filled in most of the sections by citing Interstellar Couriers’ specific shipping regulations, which asserted that all security precautions had been taken without actually providing any details. It was something that would probably annoy the paper-pushers on the ground, but it wouldn't actually give them an excuse to deny them entry. The last thing the Governor would want was someone with as many connections as Interstellar Couriers yanking on his chain, demanding that the bureaucrats be unceremoniously removed from office.

  Even posing as Interstellar Couriers, they hadn't been given a low planetary orbit, but a high one well outside weapons range. That wasn't too surprising, she had to admit; any naval commander worth his rank would hesitate to allow an unchecked ship anywhere near vulnerable installations in orbit around the planet.

  “Done,” she said, finally. “You think they’ll let us land without further ado?”

  “I think they’ll insist on checking us thoroughly,” Fitz said. “It would probably be quicker to get a smuggler to slip us down to the surface, but there’s no need to be covert just yet.”

  Mariko nodded and headed off to prepare the shuttle. Fitz had warned her to be careful what she packed outside the concealed compartments, noting that the shuttle was almost certain to be searched by the locals before they were allowed to leave the spaceport. Even Interstellar Couriers wouldn't be allowed too many liberties. The guns and a handful of tools Fitz had insisted on bringing with him should be well hidden. Their clothing included some of the sexy underwear that they’d picked up on Dorado, in the hopes that it would distract the searchers. Mariko remembered watching customs officers pawing through her bags on her first port of call and suspected that they would do the same thing here.

  Twenty minutes later, once the autopilot had been brought online and carefully checked, she took the helm of the standard shuttle and steered it down towards the planet. Sumter’s OTC was paranoid, compared to Dorado or Greenland, as they sent her a single course and warned that any deviation would result in weapons being locked on her shuttle; if she then did not resume the stated course, they would immediately destroy the shuttle. It seemed far too paranoid of a policy, although Fitz seemed to take it in stride. A single shuttle that crashed in the wrong place could do a great deal of damage.

  Terrorists were very fond of that tactic.

  Sumter City was a giant domed edifice, a reminder that even after three hundred years the planet hadn't been fully terraformed. Mariko couldn't understand why the Imperium hadn't chosen a more habitable world – like Karats – before realising that all of those worlds would have had settlers who had fled the Imperium in the past in the hopes of escaping its grip. The Sector Capital couldn't be allowed a resentful and bitter underclass, although as they flew over smaller domes surrounding the city dome she realised that one had developed anyway. There would be thousands of aliens who had come in search of a new life, only to discover that they were – at best – second-class citizens of Sumter. And there must be plenty of humans who felt the same way.

  The spaceport came into view and she guided the shuttle towards the landing pad that had been specifically earmarked for them. Mai rolled her eyes as the intercom suddenly barked out a series of orders and threats from OTC, ordering them to move to a different pad and land within two minutes. Mariko ignored the threats and did her best to follow orders, although she couldn’t see any reason for the change. Maybe they were just trying to annoy the Interstellar Couriers. It was as good a theory as any other.

  The moment they touched down, the landing pad started to rotate before sliding down a long shaft. Mariko looked up as a solid hatch closed high overhead, blocking their escape back to the ship. They were trapped.

  “They’ll move the shuttle into a private compartment,” Fitz said. He didn't seem surprised. “They don’t let people stay in their own shuttles overnight. Officially, it’s for security reasons, but I suspect that they probably get kickbacks from the local hotel managers. Even if your business can be concluded within a day, they still expect you to book lodging in the city overnight.”

  “Money talks, common sense walks,” Mariko said.

  “Exactly,” Fitz agreed. The shuttle came to a halt facing what looked like a secured airlock, with an access tube that reached out towards them. “We’ll have to leave most of our tools in the secure compartment for the moment. Depending on the situation on the surface, we may have to come back and pay extra for access to our shuttle.”

  “Bastards,” Mai commented. “Do they want to convince people not to visit Sumter?”

  “The juniors see the seniors profiting from corruption on a much greater scale and wonder why they should bother following the rules,” Fitz said. “Shoot a few thousand corrupt officials and they would be replaced within the day. Even E Branch has problems tracking everyone who might be corrupt. Outside the Marines and a handful of other elite units, corruption is a major problem – and one that is rarely acknowledged, let alone challenged.”

  He stood up as the access tube mated with the shuttle’s airlock. “We’ll go to the hotel directly after this,” he added. “You’ll want a shower after they finish pawing you.”

  Mariko looked over at him as she picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder. How bad could it be?

  ***

  The answer turned out to be pretty bad.

  As soon as they stepped off the shuttle, they were separated by sex, leaving Fitz striding off down a separate corridor with a jaunty air. Mariko and Mai looked at each other and then walked down the female corridor, into a room with four female officers with bored expressions. Their bags were scanned, searched and then passed through a secure barrier, leaving the girl
s separated from their bags. A moment later, they were urged into a scanner which seemed to leave their teeth vibrating in their mouths, before their prints were checked against the planet’s records of wanted criminals. It was several minutes before the guards reluctantly conceded that they weren't on the list of people to be arrested on sight, or transferred to the next starship leaving the planet for another world.

  That would have been enough on any other world, but Sumter clearly operated under different rules.

  The guards bounced questions off them quickly, demanding to know where they’d been last and where they were going, leaving Mariko to fall back on the reminder that Interstellar Couriers had special dispensation to keep their shipping destinations secret. They didn't seem to like that reminder, but didn't press it too far, something that puzzled her until she realised that they knew just how much clout Interstellar Couriers had. The guards could lose their posts, or be automatically reclassified as Indents, if they pushed hard enough for Interstellar Couriers to make an official complaint.

  Finally, they waved a paper under Mariko’s nose and insisted that she sign it. It confirmed that they hadn't visited any world under Imperial Quarantine within the last six months and acknowledged that they would be held personally responsible if they lied and disease spread into Sumter’s ecosystem. Mariko signed with a flourish and marched through the gates as if she owned the building, Mai following behind in her wake. They probably couldn't see the sweat on the back of her neck, she hoped. Fitz had once told her that the secret to dealing with minor functionalities was never to let them think that they had the upper hand.

  Fitz was waiting outside with a droll smile on his face, consulting a datapad someone had given to him. “You’ll be pleased to know that they have recommended a number of very expensive hotels,” he said, with a wink.

  Mariko rolled her eyes. She would have bet good money that most of those hotels were heavily bugged too.

  “I’ve ordered a taxi to take us to the Sumter Ritz,” he told them. “It seems to be the best of a bad bunch.”

  Mariko said nothing as they took an elevator to the surface and looked out over Sumter City. For a Sector Capital, there was something oddly depressing about it: a mixture of cheap buildings under the dome, along with a handful of more permanent edifices. Most of the buildings lacked any sense of elegance, being nothing more than reinforced concrete blocks. A number of humans and aliens lived beside them, on the streets. Mariko realised, with a shock of horror, that they didn't have anywhere else to go.

  The taxi ride only added to the sense of desolation. Few building seemed to be more than temporary measures, illuminated only by the pale light that shone down from the dome high overhead. It would have been simple enough to expand the dome or provide limited adjustment so that humans could survive in the outside environment, but the Imperium hadn't bothered. Sumter’s real wealth lay in the wormhole junction and the excessive fees that they charged for transit. There was no incentive to improve conditions on the planet itself.

  Fitz tapped his lips as they finally reached the hotel. Given what they were paying, it should have been luxury personified – and they did try. But there was something sad about it, as if the owners no longer really cared about trying to make a profit. Mariko took one look at the menu and rolled her eyes. The owners would have gone out of business on Edo long ago.

  “We start work tomorrow,” Fitz said, for the benefit of any unseen ears. He searched the rooms carefully, working his way through all the places where a bug could be hidden. One of them was hidden, rather neatly, in a power socket. Another had been more blatantly hidden in an overhead chandelier. “Go run a bath. We all need a soak.”

  Mariko nodded – running water would make it harder for the bugs to hear them – and went to do as she was told. The real plan didn't involve sleep – at least, not yet. They had to be on their way before something else went wrong.

  Chapter Twenty

  “What a dump.”

  Fitz didn't disagree with her as he led her up the stairs of Apartment Complex #77. It was a squalid building, reeking with the stench of something she didn't want to identify, barely illuminated by a series of fluorescent lights embedded in the ceiling. Small piles of rubbish lay everywhere, as if the cleaners couldn't be bothered sweeping it all up and discarding it, or even feeding it into a fabricator as raw materials. Some of the concrete used to make the apartment block even looked decayed, as if it was on the verge of collapse. Mariko couldn't imagine why anyone would want to live in the complex.

  “Clearly the Secessionists aren't bothering to pay very much,” Fitz muttered, as they stopped outside the right door.

  Mariko waited while Fitz checked the remainder of the corridor for security devices, and then pressed a sonic screwdriver against the lock. There was a click and the door opened, revealing a darkened room inside. Fitz unhooked a flashlight from his belt and shone it around rather than turn on the light; the local monitoring software might notice an unexpected power drain and sound the alarm.

  Mariko followed him into the room, her heart pounding like a drum. Fitz had told her that the key to a successful burglary was never to allow fear to overcome you, but in practice it was harder than it seemed. She knew that she was out of place, even though they were carrying cards from Imperial Intelligence. A real intelligence officer would know that merely waving the cards in front of any investigating policeman would convince any policeman to help with the burglary.

  “Stay there,” Fitz ordered, as he swept the room with a bug detector. “Let me sweep the room first.”

  Nothing appeared.

  This puzzled Mariko until she realised that Imperial Intelligence wouldn't bother to spy on someone as low-ranking as Richardson, while the Secessionists knew better than to risk exposing their agent by bugging him. After all, there were still the occasional, random loyalty checks carried out by Imperial Intelligence to worry about.

  Mariko unhooked her own flashlight and glanced around. The apartment was neater than she had expected, but there were two piles of dirty clothes in the corners, as if the owner couldn't be bothered to wash them. A pile of neatly-washed plates sat on one end of the kitchen sink beside a fridge that seemed to be on its last legs. There was a very faint smell of incense or something that he might have used to cover up the stench from outside.

  When she got to his bedroom, she saw a single bed and a pile of books borrowed from the local library. Most of them appeared to be trashy thrillers set in the glory days of the Imperium, but a couple were more recent. And one of the books was a technical manual relating to starship operations. Mariko didn't think it was classified – most data on starship operations was in the public domain – yet she couldn't think of any reason for Richardson to have it. He was nothing more than a simple data-entry clerk.

  “No private computer system,” Fitz said. He spoke normally, but it seemed so loud that Mariko almost jumped out of her skin. The urge to whisper was overpowering. “The one here is from the Imperium – he won’t store anything delicate on it if he values his life.”

  Mariko nodded in understanding. The Imperium gave computers to its workers, carefully not mentioning that they had backdoors that allowed Imperial Intelligence to get past the security systems and access whatever data was stored on the device. Mostly, according to Fitz, they found nothing more than pornography, but sometimes they found evidence of security breaches or worse. Anyone with money would buy a system that hadn’t already been hacked by intelligence services, even though having one was regarded as grounds for suspicion in its own right.

  Fitz pushed a datachip into the computer and it whirred to life, using Imperial Intelligence’s codes to carry out a complete data dump. Everything Richardson had stored on the computer would be dumped onto the chip for future analysis, perhaps by Imperial Intelligence’s people on Sumter if Fitz couldn't find anything for himself. As soon as it was finished, Fitz removed the chip, placed the computer back where he’d found it and took o
ne, final sweep around the room. There was no sign of anything else interesting, apart from a handful of holographic porn datachips. All of them, according to the scrawled notes on their side, featured humans and aliens copulating in a manner that would bring neither children nor long-term happiness.

  “Not much food in the fridge,” he observed, as he pulled the fridge away from the wall and studied the concrete panelling. There seemed to be nothing there; after a moment, he put the fridge back.

  He wandered over towards a portrait of a smiling lady on the other side of the room. He poked and prodded it for a long moment, and then found the catch. The painting opened like a cupboard, revealing a hidden safe.

  Fitz chuckled and made a single snide comment: “Traditionalist.”

  Mariko went to study the safe. There was no way to open the unit, apart from a standard DNA scanner, presumably keyed only to Richardson. “Can you open it?”

  “Probably, but it's too risky,” Fitz said. He placed his hand against the metal of the safe, presumably using one of his implants to scan the interior. “This kind of safe is a devil to open unless you have the right DNA pattern. Imperial Intelligence put a price on the head of the person who invented them, just because they had problems opening two belonging to suspects. Even when they cracked the system, they still didn't manage to break into the secure compartment half the time. One safe had a HE charge attached that took out the entire building after someone pushed the wrong button.”