Agent Prime

by Jake Bible

  Sno dove for the boulders. He rolled and came up with his back against the stone. His ears were on overdrive, listening for the approach of enemies. Nothing. No crunch of wheels or hum of a grav engine. No footfalls of boots running his way. Nothing except the crack and pop of the trees burning.

  There were times in Sno’s career where he sometimes, and only sometimes, wished the SSD didn’t have a ‘no AI agents in the field’ policy. He had old friends that swore by their AI counterparts. Whether simply assistants or ship pilots, everyone said having one made all the difference. But the SSD couldn’t take the risk of an AI going rogue. Didn’t matter if the AI was mainframe-based or a physical android, the SSD didn’t trust them and refused to allow agents to use them in the field.

  Sno knew of a couple exceptions, but those were extreme cases where the director in charge had put in a special request. That knowledge didn’t help him much at that moment. What would have helped was an AI to call who could bring his ship to his current location and get him all the Hells out of the situation he found himself in.

  Which was what?

  A destroyed transport station, a dead asset, and a copse of trees spontaneously combusting? What kind of situation was that?

  Waiting, listening, calculating, Sno stayed put, his back firmly against the boulders. Without new intel, he wasn’t going anywhere.

  Thirty minutes. An hour. Two hours. Sno waited. There was a protocol in place. No contact after four hours and the local FIS liaison would be forced to take action. Unfortunately for Sno, that meant another few hours of bureaucratic back and forth before a decision was made to send out local friendlies to find him.

  Unlike the SSD, the FIS never deviated from protocol. That made Sno’s job extremely difficult at times, and damn near impossible at others, but in the end, asses were covered and the Fleet Intelligence Service could survive another round of Galactic Fleet Council reviews which meant the SSD survived another round of reviews. To Sno’s superiors, surviving those reviews was more important than Sno’s actual survival out in the field. Or that was how it felt most times.

  So, Sno waited. It was all he could do.

  3.

  The swift ship was a two-seater. It came in low and fast, a blip on the horizon then a blob then a fully formed vehicle shooting straight at where Sno still sat, back secure against a couple tons of stone. Shaped like a large needle with four stubby wings spaced evenly around the aft end, the swift ship lived up to its name in all ways.

  Sno watched the ship come in fast then do two low, quick circles of the area before landing a quarter click from the boulders. Sno didn’t move. The swift ship had no markings, nothing to indicate it was from any specific agency. It could have been his rescue or it could have been part of the same entity that had blown up the station and killed Mr. Gor’bun.

  So, Sno waited. Some more.

  The cockpit of the ship opened up top and two lines of liquid metal alloy deployed from just under the seal, quickly forming into a multi-runged ladder for the pilot to climb down. Sno did not recognize the pilot, but that didn’t mean anything. The Egthak liaison never gave Sno a list of trusted local contacts and Sno never asked for one. Safer that way.

  “Hail there, friend!” the pilot shouted as she stepped onto the ground and swiveled her head in Sno’s direction.

  No binocs, so she must have had ocular implants in place or there would have been no way she could have seen Sno up against those boulders.

  Sno did not respond. He waited quietly and watched as the woman approached his position.

  Humanoid and bipedal, the woman could have been human, but it was hard for Sno to tell. She was dressed in a pilot’s uniform complete with headgear that obstructed any decent study of her specific anatomy and race. He could see that her skin was a bright orange, but that meant nothing. Most humans had bright-colored skin, along with a dozen other bipedal races.

  And those were the races Sno knew of; the galaxy was a vast place and new civilizations were discovered yearly, added to the list of Galactic Fleet allies, or Skrang Alliance allies, or coalition of independent planets that swore allegiance to neither the GF nor the Skrang, blaming both for the War that nearly destroyed half the galaxy so many years earlier.

  Despite his inability to accurately identify the woman’s race, Sno had no regrets regarding his lack of ocular implants. Too many planets, systems, stations, and cities flagged anyone with more than a simple aural implant for comms and holo display implant for connecting to the grid. Once flagged, that person was tracked relentlessly, depending on the security measures in place for said planet, system, station, or city. In Sno’s line of work, he couldn’t afford to be constantly monitored. That kind of non-stop surveillance ruined an agent’s career quickly.

  And Sno liked his job.

  The pilot slowed when Sno still didn’t respond to her cheery hails. She didn’t stop completely, but her eager gait became hesitant, wary.

  “Denman Sno, yes?” she said when she was only a few meters away. “I sure hope so because I raced against that storm to get here, and we only have about twenty minutes before it turns the atmosphere into an unnavigable mess.”

  “Pass phrase,” Sno said, still seated on the ground.

  “Excuse me?” the woman asked. At that, she did stop. “Pass phrase?”

  Sno cocked his head, but said nothing else.

  “Uh… No one gave me a pass phrase,” the woman said. Steely gray eyes blazed with danger. The woman’s hand went to her hip, but there was no holster or weapon there. The hand fell away empty and her fingers began tapping the side of her thigh. “If I’m supposed to have a pass phrase, then you are shit out of luck, friend. All I have is a swift ship idling back there with an empty seat inside that has your name on it. If your name is Denman Sno.”

  “Sorry. Wrong guy,” Sno said. “Maybe check at the station ahead.”

  “Station ahead…? Are you daft? This is the only station that is no longer a station on the entire line,” the woman snapped. “I was sent to pick up Denman Sno at the station that is no longer there. That pile of smoking rubble fits the description.” She pointed a finger at Sno. “And you fit the description of Denman Sno. Either you want a ride back to Egthak City or you don’t. Better tell me now because I need to get back to my ship and take off ASAP before that shit storm comes down on us.”

  “Who sent you?” Sno asked.

  “Don’t know the gentleman’s name,” the woman replied immediately. “Only name I got was Denman Sno. But he was a Dornopheous. You know, those putty people? All one big blob constantly moving unless you scare them then they turn into a puddle of fear at your feet. You ever been around a Dornopheous before?”

  “I have,” Sno said and stood up slowly, wiping grit and sand off his ass as he stretched his legs and watched the woman carefully. “Dornopheous give you a name?”

  Alarm bells were going off in Sno’s head. His local FIS liaison was not Dornopheous. The man had been a halfer, part human and part Spilfleck, a lizard race with neck frills that extended whenever they became excited or frightened. The only Dornopheous Sno knew was…

  “Don’t answer that,” Sno said before the woman could reply to his question. “You already said you only have one name. I think I know who sent you.”

  “Great on you, friend,” the woman said, bowing and twisting at the waist so she could sweep an arm back towards her ship. “Would you care to grace me with your presence in my ship so we can leave before we’re torn apart by fifty kilometer-wide cyclones?”

  Sno glanced past the woman, past her ship, and saw what was coming straight for them. She was right, the storm had worsened and they were dangerously close to being overtaken by it.

  “Yes. Thank you,” Sno said and started jogging towards the ship.

  The woman joined him, matching his pace as they both hurried to the swift ship and climbed inside. The cockpit closed and sealed and the ship lifted off before either Sno or the woman had finished strapping in
.

  “AI?” Sno asked as the ship turned, banked, and shot across the sky towards Egthak City.

  “What?” the woman asked. “Oh, no, not AI. Simple identification protocol I created. I activated it when I left the ship so it would be ready to take off as soon as I was back aboard. Like I said, friend, we’re cutting it close.”

  Sno nodded. He was seated behind the pilot in a simple jump seat. No safety frills or extra padding. A place for his ass and a place for his back; cross-strap harness to keep him in place if the flying got dicey. As he studied the swift ship, he realized he was safe. Contractors and illicit operators liked bells and whistles. They liked spending money on equipment that made their jobs easier and lives more comfortable. Sno hadn’t met a single contractor or operator that wasn’t that way.

  But the swift ship he was in was so stripped down that Sno wondered if it even had basic tech interfaces. He leaned slightly forward and was amused at the sight of the woman piloting the ship with a very retro-looking flight stick. Nothing indicated that she was jacked into the controls with implants or physical enhancements. Throttle and flight stick, that was about all Sno could see other than some simple holo navigation displays.

  “Got a question, friend?” the woman asked.

  “Name?” Sno replied.

  “I have one,” the woman responded.

  She didn’t give him her name and Sno didn’t press. He never confirmed with her that he was actually Denman Sno, so fair play with her being coy too.

  “I’m going to drop you off on the outskirts of the city,” the woman said. “I was told to bring you in to a specific landing zone, but the way you’re acting, I think you might prefer an indirect delivery. You’ll be about a two-kilometer walk from the landing zone, so it’s not much of a hike, but it gives you a chance to observe the location before heading in.”

  “That’s nice of you,” Sno said. “Where’d you learn that bit of trade craft? Not here on Egthak. Nothing happens on Egthak.”

  “That’s not true or I wouldn’t have been sent to fetch you, friend,” the woman replied with a snicker. “Plenty happens on Egthak, just like any other planet. And what makes you think I’m using some type of trade craft? Common sense says that you’re in some sort of trouble and I’d rather not get too close to whatever climax or conclusion your trouble leads to.”

  Sno liked the woman. She wasn’t from Egthak, the automatic motion of going for a holstered pistol told him she was used to having a weapon on her at all times. So not from Egthak. But she was a professional. Sno just couldn’t figure out at what.

  “Deliveries,” the woman said without Sno asking a question. “I’m a courier. Plain and simple. I get goods delivered fast, friend. That’s my job. Wasn’t expecting to pick up a quick gig like this while here on Egthak, but you never turn down a job when one is placed before you. Especially when it pays in chits, not credits. Cash in hand always gets my attention.”

  “Good to know,” Sno said. “I don’t have any chits on me, so I hope you’ve already been paid.”

  “Handsomely and upfront,” the woman said. She cleared her throat. “I’m going to ask a question that I want you to answer.”

  “That a threat?”

  “Not specifically, no. But I would like to know if you destroyed that station back there. And if you did, will you riding in my ship end up with me catching blow-back from that destruction?”

  “I didn’t and it won’t,” Sno replied. He felt comfortable answering those questions. “Care to tell me your name now that I’ve been a huge help?”

  Sno could only see the back of the woman’s head, but he caught a tightening along the skin of her jaw and assumed she’d grinned.

  “Maybe sometime,” the woman responded. “Not today. You’re too much of a wild card for me to be giving you my name. We meet again and we’ll see then. Okay, friend?”

  “Okay, friend,” Sno replied.

  Ahead on the horizon were signs they were approaching Egthak city. Small dwellings that were scattered about quickly became densely packed until they were wall to wall and gave way to taller and taller buildings. The storm had kicked up so much dust that Sno could only make out the outlines of the modest skyscrapers that constituted the center of Egthak City.

  “Gonna put down in about two minutes,” the woman said. “Right over there by that strip of shops. Once on the ground, you’ll want to head northwest until you reach a primary school. Landing zone was supposed to be the sports field. Another reason I’m not going there. I’m not about to tear up some kids’ sports field because a Dornopheous paid me a bunch of chits.”

  She laughed.

  “Oh, and reach behind you. Should be a shirt back there that fits. I always keep extras lying around. That one you have on, well…stinks like death and smoke. Change it.”

  Sno was really liking the woman. He reached behind him and pulled out a shirt that looked like it would fit. It neither looked nor smelled completely clean, but it was better than being dropped off in Egthak City with the nasty shirt he had on.

  4.

  The swift ship took off and was gone before Sno made it past the first shop in the strip of buildings. A part of Sno was hoping he’d see the pilot again. She had guts and didn’t seem like the type that got caught up in intergalactic intrigue on a regular basis. Sno could use someone like that in his life.

  The shops to Sno’s left were closing up as the storm bore down on Egthak City. Sno glanced over his shoulder to see a wall of dust fueled by massive storm clouds heading straight for him. It would still take a good hour or so before the storm hit, but that didn’t put Sno at ease.

  Once the storm slammed into Egthak City, Sno’s chances of finding answers to the day’s insanity would be close to impossible. An attack like that was carefully orchestrated which meant there would be an escape plan in place for the perpetrators. That escape plan would already be rolling along, and Sno needed to hurry if he was going to catch even a hint at who was behind it all.

  He broke into a jog and hurried past the strip of shops, turning at the corner of the next street and heading northwest as the pilot had said to do. Sno knew he was taking a risk trusting the swift ship pilot, but every instinct in him said she was on the level.

  Sno continued jogging, passing another row of shops then a couple of apartment buildings, until he came to a street sign that pointed to the primary school. He took that turn and slowed then stopped as he scanned the area for threats.

  “Hello?” Sno called into his comm. “Someone confirm you hear me.”

  Still no answer. Sno doubted it was a tech issue. The instincts that told him to trust the swift ship pilot told him that his backup was dead. Or captured. But dead was more likely. Even captured, they would have found a way to get some type of message to him even if it was only a series of panicked clicks.

  Sno spotted the sports field and walked slowly towards it, all senses on high alert for the next attack. It would be coming, he knew that for sure, but the when and where were impossible to predict. If he was a betting man, which he was, he would say an open sports field made one convenient spot for an ambush. All it would take was a nicely placed sniper to cap off Sno’s day.

  As Sno passed the posted entrance to the sports field, he caught sight of a Dornopheous standing close to a row of practice equipment on the opposite side of the field. Sno had no idea what kind of sport the equipment was used for, since he hadn’t studied Egthak’s sporting culture before setting foot on the planet, but it looked like the sport certainly was full contact by the way the equipment mimicked the size and shape of many of the galaxy’s races.

  The Dornopheous turned and gave Sno a cautious wave.

  “Trel’ali,” Sno muttered. He took a deep breath and moved across the open sports field, his neck hair standing straight up once again.

  “Sno,” Trel’ali said when Sno reached him. “Been a while. Nice shirt.”

  “Thanks,” Sno said.

  Trel’ali, like all Dor
nopheous, was a semi-solid pile of putty that stood erect, his eyes level with Sno’s. He waved a half-formed hand at Sno and motioned for them to get out of the open and over to a covered stand of seats.

  “Not happy to see you, Trel’ali,” Sno said, following the Dornopheous to cover. Sno fought back a sigh of relief when they stepped into the shadows and moved behind a short plasticrete wall. “What happened today?”

  “That’s a question a lot of beings are asking themselves right now, Sno,” Trel’ali said once they were semi-secure behind the wall.

  An ambitious sniper could use concentrated plasma, or a highly volatile laser stream, to hit them behind the wall, but those would be even harder weapons to import. A basic plasma rifle blast would be stopped by the plasticrete long enough for them to seek better cover. The looks on both men’s faces said they were keenly aware of that.

  “My backup?” Sno asked.

  “Dead,” Trel’ali confirmed.

  “I guessed as much,” Sno said and sighed. “How’d you get involved?”

  “I was in the area,” Trel’ali said in a tone that said he wasn’t going to answer any detailed questions on the subject.

  “Lucky me,” Sno said.

  “Extremely. What happened to the swift ship? Pilot was supposed to land here in the field.”

  “The pilot thought that was a stupid idea. And she didn’t want to ruin the field.”

  “Huh. Not my instructions, but you made it here all the same.”

  “And why am I here and not at the docking ports? I shouldn’t be on this planet anymore.”

  “You’ll be leaving as soon as the storm passes.”

  They both turned to face the direction of the incoming storm. The wind had picked up and it pulled and pushed at flaps of Trel’ali’s putty body.