by Matt Novotny
“Do you think there are Enforcers on the surface?” Remmy whispered. He really didn’t want to run into one of them.
“Why are you whispering?” Rains said, full volume, adjusting his satchel. “No one can hear you. Dork.” Going back up the ramp, Rains pulled out a sleek hover bike. He missed the throaty rumble of the classic Earth motorcycles, but stealth was the name of the game here, and the battery-powered Zuul machine would get them in and out without fuss.
Remmy quickly unstrapped his own bike. The pair glided out onto the tarmac and raced to the hangars on the far side. When they were halfway across the large open space, a security vehicle came out from around the far-right hangar.
* * *
Kleve
Remmy turned sharply down an alley. Rains was right on his back bumper. They came to a stop, killed power to the bikes, and backed up behind a dumpster. His heart hammered in his chest, and he flashed a grin to Rains in the dark alley. He noticed Rains was breathing heavily from the adrenaline surge of being chased.
A bright light stabbed through the dark alley, and both men hunched over their bikes, making themselves as small as possible. After a tense, terrible moment that seemed to stretch forever, the light finally moved on, accompanied by the whine of an accelerating hover car.
The two men stayed where they were for a couple of minutes. Then Rains broke the silence.
“That was bold. I can’t believe you did that.”
“What could I do? That wasn’t a real security force. Oberon told us things were getting worse ever since the Peacemakers pulled out. Minor warlords setting themselves up to be petty dictators. No better than what happened in Galveston after Peepo broke the world.” Remmy glanced over the dumpster, then looked back at Rains. “You sayin’ I shoulda done anything different? Did you want me to let them shoot you?”
Rains shook his head. “No. I’m glad to be in one piece.” He stood up so he could peek down the alley. “You think they’re gone?”
“Oh, they’ll be back,” Remmy said. He powered up his bike. “Let’s go misbehave.” He rode to the mouth of the alley, looked both ways, and turned back the way they had come.
Rains hurried after him.
It took about half an hour of dodging down side streets and alleys before they broke out of the sprawl around the starport. The streets were mostly deserted. There were only a few beings out, and none that they saw seemed to care about them zipping across their territory.
The pair sped down the main thoroughfare to the Peacemaker data facility. There were several broken-down transports scattered along the street. The closer they got to the facility, the more sporadic the distribution of derelict vehicles. Remmy pulled alongside an Altarian rumbler and pointed at some carbon scoring along the flanks of the wreck.
“One of the warlords must have hijacked it,” Remmy speculated.
“Enforcers,” Rains said matter-of-factly. “Only Enforcers are so precise with their fire.” He pointed at several of the spots. “These are all cosmetic. They avoided anything vital. I bet you could still drive this rumbler.”
Remmy squinted, then nodded. He should have noticed that before. The marks on the bright paint drew his eyes…as it was intended to do. “Why put on the show?”
“It blocks access to the side street.” Rains pointed at the blocked offramp. Their bikes could easily navigate around, but the rumbler prevented anything larger from getting off the street. “And that’s where we want to go.”
Remmy glanced down the road they were on and pointed. “Not down here?”
“Only if you want to get detained or shot, or—in your case—both.” Jackson grinned. “Everyone tries the obvious entrance. So, the Peacemakers gave them what they expect. The real entrance is this way.” He steered around the vehicle and headed down the side street. After a few minutes, they pulled up to a nondescript building. Remmy noticed that even alien delinquents liked graffiti, as there were tags in multiple languages.
They parked the bikes next to a steel door with a single light above it. Rains walked to the door and opened a hidden panel. He held up his badge to the scanner and the blinking amber light strobed several agonizing times before turning green.
Remmy realized he was holding his breath and let it out. Rains looked at him, and he shrugged as a large metal door hummed open. They quickly moved the bikes inside, and as soon as they were clear the large door closed behind them.
Inside was a dimly lit garage. There were a couple of unmarked vehicles and another bike similar to theirs but more beat up. They parked in a spot near the far door, backing the bikes in.
Again, Rains held up his badge to a scanner, and the door opened with a hum and click. Remmy quickly pulled this one open and blinked at the bright interior. It took a second for his eyes to adjust, and that was when he saw the Selroth watching him from behind a transparent barricade. The barrels of a weapon were trained on him, and Remmy quickly put his hands up.
“What are you doing?” Rains said with exasperation in his voice. He stepped around Remmy and showed the guard his badge. “I need to access the archive,” Rains said to him. Rains pointed at a small waiting area and told Remmy, “You can wait here.”
Remmy nodded. He threw a mock salute to the Selroth and went to the waiting area while Rains passed through the door next to the guard booth.
Remmy settled onto furniture made for a humanoid that wasn’t Human, but close. A Tri-V screen showed the latest news from the GalNet with occasional clips from local broadcasts. There was a story about a high-speed chase near the starport, and Remmy glanced at the guard shack. He was surprised to find it vacant. He triggered his pinplant.
“We made the local news,” he told Rains.
“Our pictures?” Rains asked.
“No, just blurs. But the crew I ran over is giving an interview to the news. Apparently, they put a reward out for our capture. Unfortunately, they can’t describe what you are. I’ve heard you’re a Blevin, a Pushtal, but the best one was that we are a pair of Jakota, whatever they are.” Remmy snorted with amusement. Eyewitnesses were absolutely the worst witnesses. “How close are you to putting in the spike?” he asked Rains.
“Hold your horses. I’m almost to the archive section. Hang on, I have to talk to the attendant.” Rains went silent.
Remmy amused himself by trying to hack the Tri-V so he could change the channel. It resisted his every attempt until he got an idea. He pulled out his slate and plugged in a small gray box with a red LED on it. It flashed a couple of times, then the Tri-V channel changed. “Man, these guys are primitive,” he mumbled.
“What was that?” Rains asked, suddenly back on comms.
“Oh, just playing with the Tri-V. You in?” Remmy asked as he searched for something decent to watch. He settled on a Sumatozou documentary going on a space dive of an ancient ship from the Great War. He couldn’t make out which race had made the ship, but they kept mentioning they were extinct. He shrugged.
“Yes. Let me know what you get,” Rains said.
Remmy reached out through his pinplants and the spike responded. He could feel the surface of the Peacemaker net like running his fingers across the surface of a pool. “Okay, Sandy, let’s see if your load is up to snuff.”
He cracked his knuckles and activated the icebreaker.
* * *
Peacemaker Secure Information Facility
Kleve
Jackson paused at the door for a moment. He watched Remmy settle back in the plastic chair and start fiddling with the Tri-V.
He’s a complete child.
Jackson shook his head and continued through the door. The hallway beyond the reception area was nondescript, with plain beige walls and slate gray tile in the corridor itself. The only real difference from a shabby Earth office building was the antiseptic cleanliness. Rains had seen dirtier operating rooms.
He moved past an electronic data board flashing the latest wanted pictures of a hundred beings that the Peacemaker Guild was look
ing for. Right in the center was Kr’et’Socae’s picture. A number of those he had busted out of prison were up there with him, spiraling out from the center in descending order of importance. Fourteenth down was Sin’Kura.
Oh, she wouldn’t like that. Jackson smiled at the thought of tweaking that cat’s tail.
He pulled his slate out and compared his map with the markings on the corridor. Getting his bearings, he headed to the lift for the third floor down. The building above ground was a complete front. Disused machinery and used furniture were stockpiled in the spaces above. Rains was surprised that the Jeha running the front were actually quite good at their job and were able to keep up a brisk flow of customers looking to find bargains in the “gray market”—a positive spin on “used.”
The lift opened, and two GenSha shuffled out. One bobbed their head uttering a rumble that Rains’ translator turned into, “Peacemaker.”
His heart thumped in his chest. Did they find me out? The thought flashed through his mind. His searching eyes didn’t see a badge on either’s harness. Outwardly, Rains flashed a smile. “Gentlemen.” He didn’t hear the responding rumble and figured the translation pendant was feeding directly into their pinplants. Whatever the translation was in their language they appeared satisfied as they both bobbed their heads as they shuffled past.
With a shaky sigh, Rains flashed his badge at the pad and keyed the lift for the 3rd floor.
The doors opened to show a very bored Flatar sitting at a sign-in desk. He immediately perked up at the sight of a new person and watched Rains with interest as he walked out of the lift.
“Greetings, Peacemaker. How may I be of assistance?” he said.
“I need a cubicle with an archive terminal,” Rains responded. He glanced past the desk and saw a row of doors lining both sides of the corridor.
“Ah, of course. Just tap your badge to any of the doors that are dark,” he said, pointing behind him.
Rains hesitated, curiosity overwhelming him. “Forgive me if this is intruding but aren’t Flatar normally bonded with a Tortantula?” he asked.
The Flatar chittered in amusement, then pointed upward.
Rains followed the gesture and looked up. He hadn’t realized the height of the ceiling in the area outside the lift. There, three meters above him, a massive Tortantula was perched upside down.
“Oh! Hello,” Rains said startled at seeing the massive creature above him.
His translator emitted a female voice tinged with regret. “I’m sorry for my partner’s prank. The data ports I need to access are up here. I assure you I am not looking to attack you, Peacemaker.”
“No worries. You two have a good one. I’ll be on my way,” he said, nodding his head at each of them. Rains quickly stepped around the desk and looked for an empty room. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up, and he tried desperately to hold in a shudder. He could feel the Tort’s eyes, all of them, following him. He heard the Flatar’s chitter of amusement again.
There were twelve doors on each side. Most were dark. Each had an outline of various beings the room could accommodate. He picked the first one that had a humanoid shape without any lit rooms near it. He fumbled for his badge, held it to the lock, and the door sprang open. He glanced back up the corridor and couldn’t see the Tortantula.
Uttering a sigh, he stepped into the room and closed the door. The lights immediately came on, and a Tri-V powered up, displaying the Peacemaker Guild logo and a brief welcome message for Peacemaker Jackson Rains. There was a folder flashing for his attention, so he reached out and tapped it. A message from Hak-Chet told him where the data he needed to access was located: dossiers for Kr’et’Socae, Sin’Kura, and their known associates, including a very thin file on Hatfield.
Rains glanced around the small cubicle. Other than the display and a charging station for slates on the desk, there was nothing else in the room. He looked up for cameras, but since this was where normal work was done, there weren’t any. Security in the sensitive compartmented information facility, or SCIF would be much stronger. He fished out the small device Remmy had given him and plugged it into a charging port on the desk. He triggered his comm and immediately heard Remmy’s voice.
“Man, these guys are primitive,” Remmy said.
“What was that?” Rains asked, wondering what Remmy was getting into.
“Oh, just playing with the Tri-V here. You in?” Remmy asked.
“Yes. Let me know what you get,” Rains said. Just this access alone could get both of them thrown into a detention facility. While Remmy went to work, Jackson pulled up the dossiers. The information they had on Kr’et’Socae was broken into three categories: what they could prove and/or verify, what they were confident of, and everything else—ghost stories, rumors, speculation. As Rains scanned through some of it, he just shook his head. It read like a Steverson Tri-V show.
He was about to open the file on Hatfield when Remmy came back on.
“All right, I was able to get past the firewall. This icebreaker is the shizzle. I don’t know who the Peacemakers have managing their defense, but they are good. Scary good,” Remmy said.
Rains thought about it for a second. “There is a Tortantula here in this area.”
“A Tort? No wonder. Well, you’d better get a move on. While I’m gifted, those spiders are wicked sharp at hacking. Just follow the arrows on your glasses. It will show you the way with an overlay. Augmented reality for the win.”
“Can they detect us?” Rains shivered at the thought of a Tortantula creeping along the ceiling after him.
“Nah,” Remmy drawled. “We are on the comms used by the cleaning crew. They aren’t due on site until the morning.”
Rains opened the door and peeked out. He couldn’t see anyone in the reception area. He quickly exited and closed the door as softly as he could. An arrow on his glasses pointed away from the desk. He moved along the corridor with purpose. At the end he took a right. He followed the course Remmy had provided, rapidly navigating through the halls, up a service lift, then down an access hatch until he exited on the lower fifth floor where all the SCIFs were located. Remmy had him stop outside one with angry lettering. His glasses translated the flowing script into English. “Council Access Required.” He sucked in a sharp breath when he read that.
“Remmy, are you sure this is where we need to be?” Jackson asked, looking around to see if anyone was nearby. The area was deserted.
“You worry too much,” Remmy replied. Even communicating with his pinplants, somehow, he got his voice to smirk.
“What do I do?” Rains asked.
“Use that card I gave you. Hold it up to the panel like it’s your badge.”
Rains dug in his satchel and pulled the little gray card out. He turned it over. Remmy had epoxied a playing card on the other side. The King of Hearts. Also known as a Suicide King. “Funny.”
“Laissez les bon temps rouler.” Let the good times roll.
“Laugh it up, fuzzball,” Rains said softly and held the card up to the plate. Amber lights flashed red, then amber, then red, then after an agonizing moment, it flashed green and the door clicked open.
“I’m in,” Rains said.
“All right. Our comms won’t work in there. Get what you need, then get out,” Remmy said. “Bon chance.”
Rains stepped through the door and pulled it closed behind him. His pulse quickened. This was it. He sat down at the narrow desk, and the Tri-V came to life. This time a welcome message for Selector Hak-Chet appeared. Rains was amazed.
How the heck did that Cajun wizard manage that?
Rains tapped past the message and started digging into the archives. This terminal had access to everything. He quickly pulled up Rsach’s schedule. Rains also, on a whim, pulled up Kr’et’Socae’s file. This one was much larger, and there were a lot fewer rumors and speculation and a lot more of the “we can prove” information.
He dug in his bag for the chip Kr’et’Socae had given him. H
e hesitated for a moment, then put the chip into the access port. He sat for a minute. If he did this, he was done as a Peacemaker. This was the line in the sand. Everything up to now could be justified as part of a Peacemaker’s discretionary authority. This, however, would set him apart.
Rains sat back and weighed his options. His eyes narrowed suddenly with an idea. He typed in a data search and the results confirmed his suspicion. He copied Rsach’s itinerary for the next several months and tagged it to be moved to the chip. Next, he opened a message terminal and typed quickly. If he was going to do this, he was doing it with panache. He tagged the message to send with the copied data. Still, he hesitated with his hand over the Execute button. If he hit that key, he was committed. He closed his eyes and turned his head heavenwards.
Almost as if uttering a prayer, he said softly, “Bes, Sabine…Vannix, forgive me.” He took a deep breath, opened his eyes, resolve filled him, and he hit the button.
* * *
Gendrus
Hope System
Bes and Sabine were brought to the bridge of Sin’Kura’s ship by Yeorgi. They filed in and waited under his watchful glower. Sabine held ‘Bastian in her arms and watched in delight as the Bakulu on the captain’s platform turned to them.
“Welcome,” said Captain Lakanto. “The mistress thought—”
“The mistress will tell them what she thinks they should know,” Sin’Kura said as she stepped out of a room adjoining the bridge, flanked by her Torvasi guards.
“Of course, mistress,” said Lakanto. “I meant no disrespect.”
Sin’Kura turned to the captives, dismissing the Bakulu with a gesture. “I wanted you to see your new home.” She gestured at the bridge’s main screen. A small dot grew rapidly in the center, resolving into a battered space station that may have once been a uniform color, but was now patched and scarred and traced by several armored conduits that led to turreted weapon emplacements. As they approached, they could see massive doors opening in the central hub.