“We’ve also noted some instances of poor security at some of the factories building the components. We noticed excessive copying of specification sheets, design sheets, CAD/CAM files, and assembly instructions. It’s as if someone is trying to build a gate from the bottom up.”
The admiral looked at the two and asked again, “Why have you come to me with this and not your supporting Fleet Intel Field Office?
Moira replied, “Because we don’t trust them. They’ve been compromised. We don’t know specifically who it is, but one of the security officers has been turned. We’ve seen data on the rings leave their office network. Remember those data devices you found that had our design info on them? We think the security shop on Gagarin is where it originated.”
Admiral Craddock stood up and walked over to his desk. He picked up his communicator and contacted CAPT Hasselrode and had him call a meeting with CDR Timmons, CDR Johnson, and Kelly at 0800 hours tomorrow morning. He instructed Hasselrode to cancel all his other morning appointments.
He turned back to Kelly and said, “Your next mission just got a lot more complicated.”
Tom Baker was lead construction foreman on segment two of the ring system. His team had been catching hell for trouble with aligning his segment to segments one and three when the system was assembled at Tereshkova. He studied the drawing, looking for the mating plate dimensions, suspecting that the setting on the milling machines had drifted off during the milling operation. His machinist insisted he had the right dimensions, but Tom wasn’t sure.
Tom was also not feeling right. He was pretty sure his lunch from the gut truck was bad in some way and he could feel his insides churn. He was alone in the plan room, but the security guy was just outside if he had to leave suddenly. No sooner did the thought enter his mind than he felt an uncontrollable surge. He jumped up, running out the door for the men’s room at speed. He yelled for the security man to lock up the plans as he ran out the door. Unfortunately, the security man had stepped away for a chocolate bar from the vending machine down the hall and wasn’t there to hear him. A janitor walking by did hear him. Realizing the opportunity, he snatched at the door before it closed and locked, and went in.
There it was before him, one of the three plans, the Holy Grail of espionage. He quickly pulled out a camera and collected page by page until he had them all. He left the room as he found it and hurried away. The security man came back, found the door locked and no one inside and got a case of the jaws. He would write up the foreman for a security breach. He thought to himself it was a good thing he came back when he did.
The janitor hurried to the maintenance room, quickly disassembled the camera, and hid it in various spots around the room. He took the data device and uploaded it to a special hidden folder on his pocket terminal and encrypted it. The data device went into a special pocket in the tongue of his shoe. Now all he had to do was wait for normal quitting time. There was no need to do anything out of the ordinary when he had just scored such a coup. He was sure there would be something extra in his pay this month.
The foreman came back to the reading room and the peeved security guard initially would not let him in. Then he saw the foreman’s ashen face and quickly buzzed him in.
“My god, man! What’s wrong with you?”
“I think the fish sandwich I had for lunch was bad. I barely made it to the restroom in time. I’m going home. I just wanted to make sure you secured the plans.”
“Sure, I got them locked back up. Don’t worry about it. Now get out of here and go get well.”
The foreman and his rumbling guts checked out and went home. Before he powered up his transporter, he called the machinist and chewed his butt for using the wrong dimensions. He gave him the right dimensions and told him to make sure they stayed that way.
The janitor thought he was working for a competing manufacturing firm unfairly locked out of running for the ring contract. He waited until he got home at his usual time and formatted the data file for transmission in a cooking recipe. He chuckled as kindly old Aunt Martha from Schirra sent off her family recipe for Sickleberry Pie.
Alistair Bennett woke up as his ship’s computer dinged to let him know a message with the parameters he’d set had shown up. He read the recipe and waited for the fifth response to come in.
The fifth comment was from a young wife on Tereshkova wishing she could see a picture of the pie. Alistair assumed this was code for a dead drop. There was never a response back in any of the previous messages and he didn’t expect one this time.
Alistair had found the common thread when he noticed that in every suspicious message, the message was sent from a different planet than the one on the profile. He’d tumbled to the anomaly by accident and spent a few days testing his hypothesis and weeding out the real grandmas visiting their grandkids on another planet. He found three agents working on Carpenter at the factory — two dead drop servicers, a transporter, and a creditsman. They were brilliantly compartmented except in their communications, which used the assumed security and anonymity of the public network. That would be their downfall.
Shadow Lead Agent H’Topa was overjoyed. One of the covert collection ships in Human space had intercepted a success code from one of their agents in the factory on the Human main world Shepard. They sent a short coded burst, which a frontier collection site picked up and forwarded to him. He looked up the code and saw it was for acquiring one part of the three-part ring design plan. J’Kraul would be overjoyed to have something tangible to report to the Elders. They were being quite harsh with him, even though they understood how good Human security could be.
He placed a call to pass on the good news. J’Kraul was ecstatic, as he had an appointment with the Elders next day. J’Kraul asked him what chance there was that the other two parts could be acquired in the same manner. H’Topa had to burst his bubble by telling him he had no way of knowing at this time how this one part had been acquired and wouldn’t know until the agent could be interviewed or the data file off the public network could be delivered to a K’Rang world network for forwarding. It would take at least four days for the collection ship to arrive at N’Ganu, the nearest main world to their exfiltration route. The collection ships were built for collection, not speed. In the meantime, he would arrange for one of his enforcers to interview the agent and report as soon as possible. Although he didn’t tell J’Kraul, as soon as possible could be four weeks.
H’Topa remembered how his request to place a special communications device in one of the Human’s FTL hubs had been turned down by the Elders and how they had excoriated him for even suggesting such a thing. He remembered their instant dismissal of the idea, fear actually, at the danger that the humans may discover it and turn it into a way to gain access to the K’Rang communications system.
“There are times like this when it would be helpful for there to be direct connection between the Human and K’Rang networks,” he thought.
The meeting with the Elders did not go well for Shadow Leader J’Kraul. The news that they had obtained one of the three design plans just led to questions of when would they have the other two sections and the codes to make the rings work. J’Kraul was pummeled so hard by their impatient harangues that he had to use all his will power to keep his ears from flattening on his head. He barely salvaged the meeting by promising to put more resources to bear on the matter and was summarily dismissed. His aide read his superior’s mood and wisely kept quiet on their trip back to Shadow Force Intel HQ.
H’Topa was summoned to J’Kraul’s office immediately upon his return from the Elders. H’Topa could see the frustration in his friend’s eyes and demeanor.
“It was the worst I have ever felt in any briefing to any audience. They are almost in panic mode. They must have those other two other design plans or neither of our careers or lives are secure.”
H’Topa tried to calm his friend, but nothing he said helped. Finally he asked, “Would it help if I went into Human space and dire
cted the network more closely? Our biggest problem is that it takes two weeks to get directions in and two weeks to get the info out, if we’re successful. If I go in on one of the collection ships I can direct my network in real time.”
J’Kraul looked up at his friend, “H’Topa, old friend, if you are caught it will mean your death.”
“Then I had better not get caught. How soon can you have a collection ship to take me to Human space?”
J’Kraul argued in his head against this course of action, but in the end realized he had no choice. If they didn’t make progress on this, Shadow Warriors would be sent to offer them the honorable way out, or they would do it for them.
“I will have the Special Collection Ship D’Ran at your disposal tomorrow. It is not your usual collection ship. It has teeth and legs. Captain M’Toth and I have served together before. He is steadfast and brave. He will be there when you need him and will give his last breath to keep you safe. Be safe, my friend. You are not just our best lead agent, but also my friend. Contact M’Toth and inform him when you want to leave.”
H’Topa looked down, then back up into his friend’s eyes and said, “When you tell him he is under my orders, tell him to be ready tomorrow morning at dawn. I will be there ready to load and leave. I don’t think this is the time to dawdle.”
J’Kraul smiled and said, “You’re right, it isn’t.”
Chapter Four
It was two hours before Antares crept up over the horizon, as Kelly looked around the bridge. All the first watch were at stations, and Chief Pennypacker had the quarterdeck watch.
Kelly called Chief P and said, “Chief P, bring up the gangplank. Secure the quarterdeck watch.”
Kelly felt the now familiar change in pressure in his ears, which signified a good seal, but he checked the pressure indicator to make sure the pressure wasn’t dropping, signifying a leak.
He keyed his communicator and said, “Antares Base, Vigilant requests permission for take off.”
The tower came back immediately. “Vigilant, you’re cleared number one for take off. Good luck and good hunting.”
Kelly ordered, “Helm, standard departure, set course for Antares Station.”
The helm lifted Vigilant smoothly from its parking apron and moved to the takeoff point. She held it still over the takeoff point for a second and smoothly applied power to the engines. Vigilant lifted into the night sky. The transition from atmosphere to space was hardly noticeable. The Vigilant came to the course that Chief Billings had entered into the navigation computer. The station came into view as the ship approached the terminator between night and day.
The Vigilant was ushered directly into the ordnance loading dock and a 20-missile pod was installed into the dorsal cargo bay. This was not the usual 20-missile wartime pod they had carried before, but a special pod holding 10 of the long-range heavy missiles capable of killing a destroyer or frigate, and 10 newer, smaller missiles capable of stopping a smaller scout-size ship, but not necessarily killing it. The type of missile used was selectable on the gunnery console. Fully loaded, the Vigilant backed out of the dock and moved to the ring for transport.
This ring, that had been so decisive when used for the Second Battle of New Alexandria, was returned to Antares Base, as it was almost directly opposite Gagarin in GR space. It was also only a prototype and the designers, Kelly’s parents, didn’t trust it for more than moderate use. Supply ships and the daily shuttles were its peak customers. A production ring would replace it after Earth and the ten first tier worlds were outfitted with rings.
The helmsman lined the Vigilant up with the gate, stopping 50 km from the entrance for clearance.
Kelly keyed his communicator and said, “Antares Station, this is Vigilant, requesting clearance to Gagarin.”
“Vigilant, this is Antares Station. You’re cleared for Gagarin, time now.”
Kelly said, “Helm, sound collision. Take us through on standard settings.”
The collision alarm rang through the ship. It was standard procedure when one did not have a clear view forward. Kelly felt the cold as the blackness swept over them in the ring, and then they were looking out at Gagarin’s sun and station. Transport completed, the helmsman powered up to 0.3 c and transited out of the Tau Ceti system, on course for Shepard in Barnard’s Star system.
Kelly asked Chief Billings to forward the course to the helm. When the helmsman acknowledged the course, Kelly said, “Helm, standard departure, go to FTL power 4 after we clear minimum safety distance.”
Indigo Corporation CEO Alan Shepler was feeling pretty good about himself. He had cleared the acquisition of Bijou Jewelry with Friedrich Debran as a way to rebuild production lost in the fire. Then he negotiated a rock bottom price from the existing owners, getting it for half what he thought he would. He now had a substantial amount of credits to modernize the plant on Shepard and to pad his own bonus, all without affecting his projected third quarter profits.
He toured the plant with the plant manager, looking at where to invest his improvement credits. He saw simple improvements that could be made in improved lighting at the jewelers’ workstations, and additional tools to have a complete set for each jeweler. He noted the majority of the jewelers were on in years. He could buy some robot jewelers as the older ones attrited out of the labor force. Shipping looked like something out of the twentieth century, with shelves and boxes instead of computerized stock pickers/order fulfillers.
Yes, he could see a lot of improvements, but first he needed a new plant manager. The son of the former owner asked to stay on as the plant manager, but he had one of his shift foremen from Fomalhaut in mind for this job, the one with the trim muscular legs and spectacular abs. What good was it to be the boss if you couldn’t enjoy some perks?
He was entering the main office when his pocket terminal chimed for an incoming message. He looked at the header and stopped dead in his tracks. The executive secretary and office manager looked at him. He regained his composure and told them he had to take a call and he was not to be disturbed.
He quickly entered the executive suite and closed and locked the door behind him. He started up his personal terminal, and when it was ready, opened his personal folder and accessed the public network. He scrolled the list of sites until he found the right one. He entered the site and downloaded two messages on single skillet meal recipes. As the recipes downloaded, he pulled out a data device and plugged it into his terminal. A light came on at the side of the device and he hit Enter. A small holographic image of the solicitous K’Rang merchant, T’Polla, appeared on his desktop. He must be a prosperous merchant, because his robes look like they were embroidered with gold thread.
“Mr. Shepler, it is so good to find you again. I was worried I would never make contact with you. That would have been such a loss, because my sources in the Imperial Hall tell me that the K’Rang Empire is considering offering to exchange ambassadors and establish diplomatic and trade relations with the Republic. The recent defeat at G’Dranu convinced the merchant and political class that the military class was leading them down a path to destruction. We voted as a bloc in the Imperial Assembly and cancelled all future weapons programs. We will be using the credits saved to rebuild our merchant class consumer goods production and shipping capability.”
“Of course, one of our first actions will be to invite Human military authorities in to witness our decommissioning and destruction of all but a small self-defense force of deep space ships. Once this is accomplished, we will petition to be included in the Human ring network so our merchant ships can speed goods in and out of the Empire and the Republic. I understand that the official offer will be made in two of your weeks.”
“I ask if you can acquire any information on these transporter rings. We will need to put in our orders to the yards soon for new merchant ships to handle the expected trade resulting from our new relationship. It wouldn’t be good to leave the yards idle for too long. The workers would revolt. We will need to k
now dimensions to know how big to make our freighters. What physical principles do they follow, so we can determine if any of our engines or systems would be adversely affected? Do they require any modifications to our ships? In essence, anything you can find out for us.”
“Our agreement with the late Mr. Delphant is still in force. Indigo Corporation has an exclusive license to import flamestones from the Empire. Please pass our condolences to Mr. Delphant’s family. His passing was a terrible loss to Empire-Republic relations.”
“I am not one to ask favors of you without a quid pro quo, as you call it. I have a 10-liter shipment container of flamestones that I can turn over to you at our next meeting. Contact me at the link on the other message when you are ready to trade.”
“Again, it is so good to find you well and we look forward to trading with you. Farewell.”
Shepler knew what T’Polla was asking for and why. He knew that T’Polla was probably a K’Rang agent, but he didn’t care. Neither did Delphant when he was alive. Of course, if they had gone to the K’Rang with the measly data Delphant had procured, there wouldn’t be 30 liters of flamestones on their company asteroid. It had been easy to acquire the info they really wanted.
Shepler knew there was no way the K’Rang Empire was ever going to conquer the Republic. All they could do was snipe around the borders. Eventually the Republic would tire of this and go in and conquer them world-by-world. He could give them everything they asked for and it wouldn’t change the inevitable.
Now, whom did he know that could get him what he needed?
H’Topa took off his heavy merchant robe and hung it on a hook. He supposed it was the type of robe a merchant would wear. The K’Rang had no merchant class or political class. There were the nobles and there were warriors. The nobles ran the Empire, electing the three Elders that ran the day-to-day affairs. There was no longer an emperor. Years of internal palace intrigue left the K’Rang weakened and disjointed. The K’Rang Empire was heading to ruin when the dukes and barons revolted against the Emperor. The Emperor was put to the sword, as were all his palace minions. The three main blocs of nobles each voted an Elder to run the Empire. The blocs shifted and changed over the years and only one of the original three blocs still provided an Elder, but the Empire prospered under their rule.
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