by Jason Hutt
Max winced as a bright flash exploded from the nose of Ironheart’s ship. Seconds later, the bridge of the cruise liner disintegrated, leaving a gaping hole in the top of the ship. Lights on the cruise liner winked off and the ship’s main drives cut out. Within moments, the ship began to list. Ironheart put his hands to his sides and then raised his palms up. Docking bay doors opened on either side of the Phantom and Ironheart issued his first audible command.
“Boarding teams, go.”
Four shuttles emerged from the openings, little balls of silver light that broke off from the projection in Ironheart’s chest, and made their way toward The Glass Slipper.
Max’s jaw hung open at the spectacle.
Ironheart turned toward him, put his arms up with a flourish, and bowed in Max’s direction. “What’s the matter, Max? Did you not enjoy my symphony?”
“You’re a goddamn madman,” Max said.
“Oh, come now, Max. Are we so different?”
“I don’t kill innocent people,” Max said.
“People die every day, Max. There are trillions of us. I doubt these few deaths will change the course of human history.”
“Their lives mean something to somebody.”
“Max, these people wouldn’t spit on you to save you from dying of thirst. They would sooner spend time with their robotic servants than with the likes of you.”
“So what? So they don’t deserve to live? They may be assholes, but that still makes them better than you.”
Ironheart’s lip twitched and he bared his teeth. “No one is better than me.”
Max shook his head and stared at the image of the liner.
“Tell me, Max. When is the last time you ate a real meal? I don’t mean food pastes, flavored to make your mind think it is eating something other than recycled shit. I mean when did you eat real food, grown from a plant or harvested from an animal?”
Max didn’t want to answer. He gritted his teeth and stared straight ahead.
Ironheart snarled. He held out his right hand and Max’s seat ripped away from the wall and floated toward Ironheart’s throne. “Answer me!”
Max looked at him, his mouth drawn in a frown and he replied in a whisper, “I don’t remember.”
“What better amenity is there on a luxury cruise than the scrumptious buffet that’s available almost twenty-four hours a day? These people, wealthy beyond the comprehension of most of us peasants, most of them not having worked a day in their lives, don’t deserve that luxury.”
“You’re just a regular Robin Hood, aren’t you?”
“No, Robin Hood was a fool. The only person I give to is me. And those who have earned my trust.” He stared at Max with a heated stare.
“You’re no better than them,” Max said.
Ironheart sneered and lurched forward causing the ship to nosedive.
Max clutched the arms of his chair as the star field rotated about him. Max closed his eyes and gritted his teeth.
“Didn’t mean to offend,” Max said.
Ironheart smiled and then tilted his head back. The Phantom pulled up and swung back towards the cruise liner.
“I would think, Max, that you would understand that if you’re not looking out for yourself, then no one else will. The Republic doesn’t give a damn about you. The haves, the rich, that dominate the Republic only care for those that are like them. They would buy and sell you a million times over if it pleased them.”
Ironheart tilted his head to the side and the Phantom banked left. The star field spun rapidly and Max again had to close his eyes. Ironheart jerked his head to the right and the ship rolled.
Max said, “They’re still people. I’ve seen enough lives cut short. I know what pain you’re causing. Enough! Or the deal’s off! I’ll find someone else.”
“I say when it’s been enough,” Ironheart said.
“Then, we’re done here.” Max said.
Max felt his stomach rising in his chest. Sweat broke out on his brow. Ironheart finally relented and the ship stopped its tumultuous roll. The Phantom leveled out and with a gesture of Ironheart’s hand the ship matched velocity with the cruise liner.
“You may leave whenever you like, Max.” Ironheart stared at Max. Max wanted to release the harness, to storm back to his cabin, but his fingers hesitated above the restraint release. His muscles ached from the tension and his eyelids drooped. More than anything, he just wanted to go back to the bar. Max’s shoulders sagged as his fingers moved away from the release.
Ironheart drew himself up and smiled. “Report,” he said.
A voice erupted in the chamber. “Teams are making their rounds. Minimal resistance. Most folks are cooperating. We’ll be loaded up in a couple of hours,” a woman answered.
“What happens to them?” Max asked.
“Who?”
“The passengers.”
Ironheart shrugged. “Their emergency beacon is already activated. Someone will be along in a few days. Most of them will live.”
Max grimaced and Ironheart laughed. Ironheart waved his hand and Max flew back toward the wall. He exhaled in relief as the projection dimmed, the lights came up, and the floor slid back into place.
“Next time, Max, you’ll be at the helm of one of the shuttles.”
“I won’t kill anyone for you,” Max said.
“This conversation is boring, Max. I don’t wish to ever have it again.”
***
As her aircar once again zipped over the forests between her apartment complex and the senate building, Maria reviewed the messages that had come in overnight. There were a few notes from air processing industry lobbyists, a doomsday warning from someone named Jon Savior which she forwarded to security, and several requests for meetings. What caught her eye as she sipped her coffee was an investigation report from Demeter Sector Security.
“Play,” she commanded.
“There is no video attached to the report. Only text.”
“Read it to me, then.”
“Senator Cahill,” her assistant began, “We have begun our investigation into the incident on Demeter. We have successfully reconstructed the crime scene and have been able to determine the location of the shooter with a confidence of 98%. Analysis of the bullet indicates markings from a popular printed gun model readily available across the Republic. We believe it is likely that the shooter printed the weapon while here on Demeter.
“A data request to determine who downloaded the gun schematic and printed the gun was submitted and returned two possible matches. We are in the process of ascertaining the whereabouts of both individuals. A background check of the two suspects reveals no possible motive or connection to you. We will keep you apprised as the investigation progresses. Sincerely, Officer Chang.”
Maria frowned as the report ended. She rubbed at her temples as she reached the outskirts of the migrant villages that lay just beyond the city’s environmental field. Her eyes felt heavy; she hadn’t slept soundly since returning home. She woke each night at any sound. Twice she bolted upright, gasping, and covered in sweat. She would pay a lot for a good night’s sleep.
“Make me a doctor appointment,” Maria ordered, “Maybe they can give me something to help me sleep.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The aircar descended into its spot on the senate building landing pad and Maria stepped out into the brisk air. She breathed deep and let the chill pass through her nostrils and down into her lungs, savoring the cool air.
The lift took her down to the basement. She checked the time; she was already ten minutes late. The other caucus members should have already assembled. Except when Maria entered the room, only seven other members were there.
“This is it?” Maria asked.
Yesu nodded. “Effren has siphoned off his supporters. Doesn’t want to risk you polluting their minds.”
“We’re just shooting ourselves in the foot,” Maria said.
“He’s always been bitter about this position, always
believed it should have been him. He had the seniority, he had the accomplishments.”
“So Hunter has won then. Even united we would have been hard pressed to stop the passage of the FPA revision,” Rose McGahee, the diminutive senator out of Hazel said.
“We just need to find new allies,” Maria said, “I’m not giving up yet. We should setup a meeting with the Jamieson Corporation. They might be able to give us some in-roads to some of their supporters.”
“It won’t make a difference,” Yesu said.
“What do you expect us to do, Yesu? Give up? I can’t do that. There are people out there who will help us. We just need to bring them together. Who else has a suggestion?” Maria surveyed the table and received nothing in response but blank stares and shrugging shoulders. “Come on, people.”
“What about the Church?” Hiram Wingate, a young man from Valhalla, suggested. “They’ve been opposed to these restrictions on reproduction from the start. There are a few fundamentalist colonies out there that might rally to our cause.”
“Not my first choice,” Maria admitted, “But they are another good candidate. I’ll set something up. Hiram, I’d like you to support with me. I need someone there to help me keep an open mind.”
Hiram laughed. “Certainly.”
“Any other suggestions? We only need one-third vote to bounce this bill off the floor and back to committee. That’ll force Hunter to rethink his position.”
“With the eight of us, Jamieson, and the church-aligned worlds, we still need five or six more votes.”
“Well, we’ll have to make some deals. Keep working on ideas. We’ll meet again in two days. I’m going to try to get ahold of contacts for these and we’ll go from there. We’ve got eighteen days to pull this off and I can’t wait to see the look on Hunter’s face when we do,” Maria said, “Then Samir can sit back and try and figure out how his whole deal fell apart.”
Every building of the Capitol was cast in a golden hue as the sun set on the horizon. Maria ignored the beautiful, evening sky and groaned as she stepped back into her car, her throat a bit hoarse from overuse. So many meetings. So many ‘hi, how are you’ conversations that led to more meetings and more calls. But Maria could smile through all of it. She had a plan and the slack-jawed shock she expected to see on Hunter’s face made it all worth it. She checked her messages again.
There was a note from Demeter, this one from A. Friend.
“Is there video?”
“No, ma’am. Audio only.”
“Play.”
The voice in the recording was synthesized, unrecognizable. “Senator Cahill, please pardon my precautions. Cillian put me on this job and I would be remiss if I didn’t think that the person who would try to kill you wouldn’t hesitate to kill little old me. I understand your skepticism with the local authorities. Frankly, you’re right to call in outside help. These guys are just cashing a paycheck.
“Anyway, so far I don’t have much you haven’t heard. Cillian’s keeping me in the loop on official reports. I’ll confirm that they got the shooter location right and the printed gun bit. I have a feeling though that they’re about to call your case done. They corralled two folks, one man and one woman. Both locals. Both on hard times. They’ll probably pin it on one of them and just call it a desperate act of a disgruntled citizen.
“I don’t know if I’m going to be able to talk to them but I don’t think it matters. I’ve started looking for the money trail. The woman, her husband died two years ago. She just had a half million dollar accidental death claim come through two days after the shooting. I don’t know if that’s what we’re looking for, but it’s got me thinking. I’ll send you a note when I have something more.
“Oh and please, don’t try to reply to these. Comm will have to be one-way for now.”
The message ended and Maria’s aircar sailed through the evening air. Her feeling of triumph faded and exhaustion seized her by the eyelids.
Chapter 12
The lead analytics officer had called Akimbe on the comm, chittering with excitement. After a sharp reminder to maintain some professionalism, the young man managed to squeak out, “We broke it.” Akimbe had set off toward the room at a run, sending other crewmembers scurrying out of his way.
The three members of the analytics team were all clustered around one of the consoles when Akimbe burst into the room. They looked up at him and he immediately recognized the fear in their faces.
“What is it?”
“Sir, that signal, the noise that’s being broadcast in the timing data of our jump beacons, it, well, it has this…”
Ensign Roe tapped a spot on her console and a projection appeared above the table. A list started scrolling – ship names, star systems, station dates – and with each line item Akimbe’s muscles grew tauter and the temperature in the room seemed to rise.
“It’s a public broadcast containing locations, on-station times, and route data for every Republic Navy inspection point across the Republic. With this you could…”
“Successfully evade every checkpoint across the Republic?” Akimbe finished.
The ensign nodded in reply.
“Do we have any way of determining who accessed the data?”
“Not with the way the message has been left out there. You’d have to know it was out there, but anybody who knows it’s there can grab it.”
“Have you been able to verify the veracity of the information?”
“It checks out, sir. It reflects known ship positions as of two days ago.”
“Sir,” one of the other ensigns pressed, “Much of this is classified information.”
Akimbe looked at her and held the admonishment that was on the tip of his tongue. “You are correct, ensign. We are being betrayed by someone in our own ranks, someone who has access and someone who has the means to do this. It’s quite possible that whoever is leaking this information is not doing it alone.”
“How do you want us to proceed, sir?”
“Continue searching for other communications. Perhaps we can get lucky and find something that will help us find those behind this.”
“Should we notify command, sir?”
Akimbe stood, hands behind his back, staring at the deck plating. He said, “No. At this point, we don’t know where this breach is, how high up or how wide-ranging it is. We maintain silence on this until we can pass it along to a trusted source. I’ll have to think about whom that might be. Clear?”
“Yes, sir,” they responded.
“Good, your entire team has earned double rations for the next week. Well done.” Akimbe left the room with his brow furrowed in deep thought. Rather than return to the bridge, he walked around the central corridor of the ship at a deliberate pace. There were no more loose deck plates, nor were there any rust stains around the pipes. By his count, there were only two notable deficiencies in the ship’s maintenance.
With each step in the corridor, Akimbe sorted through the options that were available. To continue to sit at this post, to waste away due to inactivity, would only result in the continued deterioration of the morale of this crew and a return to the inattentive ways of the previous commander. In addition, they would continue to be ineffective in their primary mission, to secure the space lanes for the passage of interstellar passengers and cargo. No, something needed to change.
Akimbe entered the bridge.
“Captain on deck.”
Akimbe stood before the tactical display. A lone supply freighter slowly crawled toward the jump beacon. It was the only ship that had passed through this jump beacon on this day.
“It is ill-conceived thinking to believe that our enemies will come to us,” Akimbe announced, “In sitting here, dutifully minding the ships that cross our path, we will catch the stupid, the unaware, and the inept, and in doing so, we will fulfill our mission. But we will not make the Republic safer. It’s time we take this problem head-on. It is time for us to implement a new strategy. Scan, how long does it take
to do a mid-range system scan?”
“One hour for an omni-directional scan.”
“Good. Be prepared to initiate a scan after each jump. Navigation, begin plotting random jumps to beacons within the third fleet’s domain that are not being actively monitored or patrolled. Helm, if the scan returns negative, you have permission to execute the next jump.”
“This isn’t exactly within our orders,” the Executive Officer whispered from the opposite side of the tactical display.
“It’s within the scope of our mission,” Akimbe responded, “Whatever we need to do to succeed at that mission is within our orders.”
Akimbe retreated to his quarters after extending his duty shift by a couple of hours. The ship had been making regular jumps every ninety minutes. After six jumps, they would need to stay on station for twenty-four hours to allow the reactor to recharge. So far their scans had returned negative, but Akimbe felt relieved to finally be doing something. The crew also seemed to come to life; there was a buzz in the common rooms and cafeteria. People were happy to be moving.
Akimbe’s head hit the pillow in his bunk; his eyelids feeling as if they were tied to ten pound weights. He calculated that they would make the next jump in thirty minutes and he started to review the command capabilities of his second watch commander. His mind started filtering through the latest inspection results on the port batteries. He sat up and rubbed at his eyes.
With a resigned sigh, he sat at the small console in his room and called up his messages. His eyes immediately locked onto a note from Roland titled ‘Found her.’
Djimbe,
Received a tip from Sector Security. Think we found her on Seguin. Analysis of a blood sample after a demonstration turned up no known matches. SS routed the sample and surveillance footage to us. She was there hanging back on the edge of the crowd. Records show one possible contact for her, a citizen re-integrated ten years ago. We’re closing in. I’ll keep you posted.