We chatted for maybe five minutes, mostly about how Jake had bribed Deek. I figured that was a lot easier than explaining my new name.
“How do you know Mr. Dani?”
“He’s my half-brother. Same mom.”
So I lied.
Patton let that stand.
When I joined Deek, we left together.
“Thanks, Mike,” said Deek. “I really appreciate your help.”
“Did Patton say anything about Discovery?”
Deek shook his head. “Since I wasn’t arrested, there won’t be any.”
Crap. There goes the easy way to learn what Mastar knows.
“What was the name of the forensics lab director?”
“Cho Listor,” said Deek.
After checking for a tail, I dropped Deek off outside his home and went to the ops center.
#
I went directly to the planning room. There I tagged Vincent using a secure line. He was at home, as expected.
“Vincent, I need your special skills. Remember my telling you about the deal I made with Deek Tanny?”
“Yes.”
“It’s happened. Deek is under investigation by the Ethics Committee. That’s the old Internal Affairs. I want you to find out what Emily Mastar has on him.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem. The police have mid-level security. When do you want the information?”
“No hurry. Take a few days if you wish. Oh, you might also look into the records for a Cho Listor. He was the head of the forensics lab when Leanna’s blood came to his attention.”
We disconnected. I took in a deep breath and let it out. I had mentioned his late wife’s name to get his attention.
When it rains, it pours.
Chapter 26
Feeling bored, I decided to get out of the ops center. There was one task I had been putting off. I might not have time later.
I changed into more comfortable jeans and T-shirt, blue this time.
After locating the cemetery south of the city proper and north of the airport, I took my own car. Vincent had purchased a Hatsu four-door sedan made by one of the more popular firms in Zor. Shipping cars, vans, and trucks was too expensive for most buyers, so the Big Six automakers had set up plants in Zor. Besides, the locals needed the jobs.
On the way, I not only ran the air conditioner, I also watched the news.
Tuning into Channel One, the big story of the day was the break in the fence north of the airport. A male reporter, with his hair blowing in the wind, spoke.
“Last night, the fences,” the view changed to show a rip in the outer and then the inner fence, “were torn apart as a pair of gofers made their way into the residential area. The gofers must have been hungry to risk electrocution on the inner fence.”
Next came a view of several homes.
The reporter added, “Behind me sit several homes in this quiet residential area of Zor.”
The view zoomed in to show two gofers lying on their sides in the back yard of one home. Blood trailed from red spots on one body.
“The two gofers were male and female, leading to speculation that they breached the fences to feed their youngins.”
The view changed again to show a proud and smiling man with a rifle across his chest.
“Thanks to the alertness of Mr. Steer Goodin, who lives in the house with his wife and two children, both large cats were slain before anybody got hurt.”
Mr. Goodin spoke next.
“I heard the screams of my daughter Cher and grabbed my rifle on my way out the back door.”
The reporter came into view again.
“Mr. Goodin reported firing five shots before the two large cat-like creatures went down.”
The two large gofers lying on the ground, with a red spot on one of them, filled the screen.
The view changed to the female anchor in front of a desk.
“We’re thankful the Channel One newsroom is downtown. After the commercial break, we’ll cover the upcoming weather.”
“Telly off,” I ordered.
Thank goodness I don’t live near the fence.
With a stop at the admin center to find the exact location, I drove up to the grass thirty yards from the marker.
Gordon hung high in the sky, which was clear of clouds, so I knew it was gonna be hot. With trepidation, I left my car and walked in the glaring sun. When I found the marker, I paused.
Buried beneath my feet were half of the ashes of my unbuilt. The other half were in a family grave on Earth. Alena had taken those ashes herself.
What do you say when you look at your own grave? It took me a while to think of something.
Did you feel pain at your death?
Images of the bloody bodies of Jake and Ron popped into my mind. There must have been pain but fortunately, neither man lived long. The bullet holes in their heads testified to that.
I felt weird knowing the Jake below me had died so I could be here.
Ron’s grave was located back on Earth in the Dani family plot, probably not far from Jake’s. Ron’s death was sad. There went a really good man. It was too bad he had died too.
I’ll miss you, buddy.
The dates under Jake’s name were Aug 4, 2060-Jan 4, 2107.
I stared at Jake’s date of death.
What would be written when I died?
Supposedly I was born four years after Jake so it would say 2064. And then the dash. Who knows what would come after the dash. It’s odd how entire lives can be lived between them.
I recalled part of a poem, written by a Linda Ellis and called “The Dash.”
So when your eulogy’s being read
and your life’s actions are to rehash,
will you be proud of the things they say
And how you spent your dash?
Maybe I could convince Acorn to spend the funds to get a rejuv when I got old. He had had one himself. That might mean I could live into the next century. Twenty-two hundred seemed far off. But I remembered how 2100 felt so I imagined it would feel like any other year, for how we mark the dates is arbitrary.
The hot wind gusted and blew my hair in the open space. That brought me back to reality. I stared at the bronze marker.
Jake, I promise to find who did this to you. To us.
I turned and walked back to my car.
Damn, it’s hot!
Chapter 27
Soon after I arrived back at the ops center, I got a message from my spy boss on Earth.
“You might as well learn how to handle long-range projects. This is example of Important versus Urgent. You can contact Beach Omar, BIS agent on Telmot City, Braco. Have told her about your past. She is only agent on Braco among two hundred Bingers there. Most live in biggest city and five are on city council.”
Telmot was the capital city (or the province) on the western end of Braco, the southern-most continent.
Acorn sent her comm number and email address as well as the full background for Beach.
He had recruited Beach to become a BIS agent when she returned to Earth via Second Class earlier this year. Beach was a half-Binger with a full Binger father and a mother who was a normal human, both residents of Salt Lake City, Utah.
Beach wanted to fight discrimination against Bingers and quickly joined BIS when Acorn approached her. She was the only BIS agent in her family. Two younger brothers were full humans. Carl became a minister in the Brigham Young sect of the Mormons. Scott went to become an architect at Deerham, Smith, and Jones in Salt Lake City.
The city council of Telmot had made discrimination against Bingers illegal in both hiring and housing. That action led to the undying animosity of most the residents of Campbell, the largest city on Braco. They resented the Bingers on the western edge of their island of Braco and the mercons on the eastern edge, along with the napes in the Nape Reservation. Even though most of the island was in the hands of human farmers and ranchers, many residents in the incorporated areas of Braco resented what they ca
lled “aliens” on their island.
I sat back and digested Acorn’s message.
Oh dear. Another member of my team and she lived thousands of miles away.
The mention of Campbell brought back memories of my last trip there.
I wrote a message to Beach Omar right away to help her feel welcomed in BIS and part of my team. I was, after all, the station chief on the whole planet of Rossa. I sent a copy to Acorn so he’d know I had contacted her.
“Hi Beach,
“Welcome to Rossa and to Braco in particular. I live in Zor and am station chief for Rossa.
“One of your first assignments will be to set up Binger colony in Telmot. Nation, not city. As Bingers arrive from Earth, I’d like you to greet them. See if you can add to BIS network there.
“And I’d like you to purchase land for BIS training center.”
I gave her my requirements for the training center, as well as those for setting up an operations center in Telmot City.
“I hope to visit you on Braco and introduce myself. Don’t know when that can be arranged. As I understand it, you are only BIS agent on Braco. I have not decided who will become station chief there.”
I thought of the coming arrival of Stater Gong. Would he be willing to be an instructor at the BIS training center in Telmot? He might want to go on ops instead. I had to meet him first and sound out the idea. Just because he was an instructor before didn’t mean he wanted to continue that line of work. One thing I knew from experience. People don’t always want to repeat their past. This held true more for people of higher intelligence, like Bingers.
Beach was a tender thirty-five years old. That’s a lot of responsibility to put on such young shoulders, and so soon after she had just joined BIS. Would Stater Gong, who was thirty-nine, be willing to work under someone only thirty-five and so inexperienced?
It was bad enough that I had to deal with replacing Jake Dani. Now I had to find out who killed him, what the heck was going on that was a big deal for Rossa, and deal with a Binger colony on Braco.
I didn’t receive a message back from Beach. From the news on the telly I learned of insurgents taking over the city hall of Telmot City.
Would Beach get involved?
An hour later, I got a message from Acorn.
“Beach going on op to city hall.”
Oh oh.
#
I sent a message to Vincent. It took almost ten minutes before his image appeared on the wall of the planning room.
“Sorry about the delay, Ja…er, Mike. Your message caught me at a busy time.”
I replied, “Getner would not kill Jake and Ron himself. He would have somebody do that for him. What can you find out?”
“I thought the same thing. But hacking into YSA computers will be extremely difficult. We are dealing with the best of the spook orgs here.”
“Can you make that a challenge?”
He nodded and beamed.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Be extra careful about leaving links back to you.”
I paused. I needed to give him a place to start.
“You might check into YSA contractors, first.”
“Of course.”
He was the smartest man on my team. Of course, he’d think of that.
I disconnected. Even though I had been on Rossa for only a week this time, all this waiting for others was driving me crazy. From experience, I knew I needed an op. But where?
Spies faced their highest danger when on ops. Most of the time we spend waiting. That didn’t make it easier. Something was up. That much I suspected. But what? And when and where would it happen?
The damned questions bugged me. I had both Acorn and Vincent working on answers. Stater Gong wouldn’t arrive for another two weeks.
What could I do in the meantime?
Chapter 28
Stater Gong spent most of the seven days of travel watching movies and reading reports on Rossa. He traveled to the jump gate at the L4 Lagrange Point in the Martian orbit It took longer than the normal six days because Earth orbited farther from the jump gate than normal. Sometimes travelers had to pass through the orbit of Venus to a point in space opposite Earth’s orbit around Sol before continuing on to the gate. Those trips could last nine days. If the Gordon jump gate was opposite Rossa the trip could take another nine days. So the trips could last anywhere between eleven to eighteen days for one-way.
Stater had to see for himself the partition that separated the strangers from the others traveling in Third. Any passenger could visit the areas of a lower class, but not an upper class.
For that, he put on his light blue suit and attached the name tag of Alberto Schmidt.
He went to the exit portal for Second into Third and got the numeral two stamped on the back of his right hand from a guard in a blue uniform. As a precaution against illegal travel between the class sections, they photographed his face and recorded his biometrics. Height, weight, fingerprints, and the contours of his body.
Stater added in a German accent, “They don't go into this much detail at the airports.”
“We have to guard against Third trying to sneak into Second.”
“Happen often?” Stater asked.
The male guard rolled his eyes. “Happens all the time.”
“What's so bad about traveling in Third?”
“I guess you'll find out,” replied the guard as he turned around. He spun the large wheel on the door counterclockwise twice, until it clicked. Then he pulled on the wheel and the door slid open.
All Stater could see was a narrow room with a wheel at the other end.
“You go in there,” said the guard. “After I close this door, someone will open the other side. That's when you're in Third.”
Stater entered the room and the door slammed behind him. At least lights lit up walls of the three-foot long corridor. He walked to the other door and waited. In three seconds, he heard a whining sound and the wall opposite came open. Three male guards in green uniforms faced him.
Green must be the color for the guards in Third, blue in Second. According to the vids, the staff in First wore white.
He walked through. The faint odor of human sweat greeted him.
“Hand,” ordered a male guard as he pointed to a small opening.
Stater extended his right hand into the rectangular opening below the sign marked “Put your right hand here.” A light flicked over his hand and another small round light above it turned green.
“Just checkin' to make sure you were stamped properly,” said one of the three men.
Another spoke. “Why do you want to go to Third anyway?”
Stater knew he couldn’t tell the truth here so he had made up a story in advance.
“Just curious. I may choose a less expensive way to travel to or from Rossa.”
“You won’t like it,” said the third male guard.
“Why?” Stater asked.
Two of the men shook their heads but said nothing as they stepped aside, as if they had heard this question before. A third male guard walked ahead of him.
“I'll be your guide. If you have questions, address them to me. Don't speak to anyone else you see along the way.”
The guard approached a doorway marked in bold red letters, “Third Class. Authorized Personnel Only.”
When he opened it and they entered, the first thing that caught Stater’s attention was the smell of sweat and stale food. The next thing he noticed was the noise. Lots of it. From the echoes of music to the din of voices.
They entered the first of five levels for Third, not counting the brig just above the engine room.
They walked down a corridor and entered a dining room. Stater’s first impression was of its enormous size. He could put a football field in here. Hundreds of tables filled the room. At each sat three to six people, busy eating. In the distance around the edge he saw rows of people. As he studied them, they appeared to move along, left to right, pushing red
trays.
He studied one food station near him. A woman pointed to a food behind a glass window. A guy behind the counter scooped what the woman had pointed to and put it on a dish, which he then placed on the top of the glass. She took it down to place it on her tray. Stater noticed the food stains on the server’s otherwise white uniform.
He said to his guide, “I thought there were thousands of passengers in Third Class.”
His guide answered with a boring voice, as if he had heard the question many times before.
“Most of 'em are down below. They eat in three shifts. These folks eat breakfast at ten in the evening, lunch at three in the morning, and dinner at eight. The rest of the time is theirs.”
Everyone looked tired. Maybe it was their added weight from the thrust of the engines.
Sure enough, in the dining room, Stater saw the partition he came to find. It had no doors or windows but it blended in nicely. The other walls of the dining room held chipped paint. The partition was smooth in one color, like it had been painted recently.
“What’s behind that partition?” he asked as he pointed.
“Just more supplies,” answered his guide. “Seen enough here?”
As his guide walked to the stairway, Stater studied the partition. It cut off the dining room and looked like it had been erected in a hurry.
Stater nodded but his nod was to a back receding from him. He raced to catch up with his guide as he marched away.
The guide led the way through another door and down a flight of stairs to “Recreation Level A.” He heard the sound and lights of movies.
“Documentaries on Rossa are popular here,” said his guide. “We try to put travelers to each of the different areas of the planet on the same eating and entertainment shifts so they can eat the same foods and watch movies and documentaries that interest them.”
Must make it easier on the staff too.
Stater nodded as if he understood.
From two rooms he heard the shouts and balls bounces on hardwood floors. In a third room, he looked through windows and saw folks sitting on the floor, evenly spaced. Every one followed the movements of an instructor as they bent and stretched.
The room was divided by the same partition.
Rebuilt: A Jake Dani/Mike Shapeck Novel (Jake Dani / Mike Shapeck) Page 10