Spies: 7 Short Stories

by Michael D. Britton

  “What do you mean?”

  “When Field took our intel to the Establishment Echelon, the Echelon Council studied it and returned to Field with a plan.”

  “Project Dreamer.”

  “Right. They told Field he had to choose a top agent to be implanted with false memories and erroneous intel. Misleading data and fake strategies. All designed to lead Axo into a trap.”

  “Field chose me,” said Ben, realization finally dawning.

  “And Axo fell for it.”

  Ben fumed inside. “Field could’ve just asked me. I’d have done anything he’d asked. He didn’t have to trick me into this.”

  “Actually, he did have to. If you’d gone into this with any knowledge of the true assignment, Axo would’ve spotted the deception when he probed your mind.”

  “I still can’t believe Field would do this to me,” Ben said through gritted teeth. “He sold me out. Sent me on a suicide mission, without my consent, just weeks before retirement.”

  “Believe me, I had a few choice words for him myself when I found out he’d done this to you,” said Olivia.

  “You didn’t tell him about us, did you?”

  “No. I just told him I was angry that he’d done this to one our own. I didn’t let on that there was anything between us,” said Olivia. “I insisted on mounting a rescue operation, but Field refused. He said Project Dreamer had to run its course in order to succeed.”

  “Somehow I don’t think you took no for an answer.”

  “Oh, I took the answer, then I crammed it down Field’s throat. I told him I’d quit the Program if he didn’t give me access to a shuttle.”

  “Nobody quits the Program,” said Ben.

  “That’s exactly what Field said. But he looked in my eyes and knew I was serious. And here I am.”

  “You always did know how to get what you want,” said Ben with a smile. He sat back and reflected on his recent, twisted past. “So, all of our defense plans – the ones I provided Axo – they’re not real. And on top of that, do you have any idea how bad Axo messed with my mind? I’m still having a hard time accepting reality.”

  “When I infiltrated his ship, and I found you in the mind-link chamber, I viewed the files on a screen. I saw all that had happened, in a kind of time-compressed replay. I had to know what was going on before I tried to release you from the machine, because I didn’t want to do anything that might hurt you. So, yes, I did see some of what Axo was doing to your head. And then I understood why Axo had taken so long to implement his plans. He couldn’t just rip the information from your mind, because of your training. He had to coax it out of you through a complex deception with the mind-machine. I’d say that the fact that it was difficult for Axo probably made the Program’s deception all the more convincing.”

  “I have just one question: how can I know that this is really real? I’ve just had my reality shattered multiple times. It’s like waking up from a dream within a dream within a dream. How do I know I’m really awake now, and not still having my mind messed with?”

  “That may take some time. When we get back, Field will have you debriefed, and then he’ll probably require you to undergo some counseling. You’ve been through a lot. But no matter what happens, I’ll be here for you.”

  Ben reached over and put his hand on Olivia’s. “Thank you.” He thought for a moment, then said, “When we get back, I’m going to give Field a piece of my mind. No pun intended.”

  Ben considered all that had happened, and about all Olivia had risked to rescue him.

  “And what about us? What will happen now?” he asked.

  “The Program is the Program, Ben. Tomorrow just happens to be your retirement day. As for me, I have no choice but to stick with our plan: in one year, when I retire, we’ll get married. If you wait for me.”

  Ben examined Olivia’s face. His eyes came to rest on the scar over her left eye. That beautiful scar – yet another anchor to his real life. “Actually, I think we may have another option,” Ben said with a smile, gradually accepting that this was no longer a machine-induced dream. The fact that she’d said they’d have to wait a year was realistic. After all those too-good-to-be-true dreams that had been forced into his head by Axo, it felt good to see things more clearly, to see things as they really are. He was finally emerging from the daze of the mind-machine. As they approached Earth orbit, it all started to sink in. “Somehow, waiting just doesn’t feel right now, considering you didn’t wait to save my life.”

  #

  Ben barged into Field’s office and stormed toward his desk. He grabbed Field by the neck and lifted him out of his chair, shoving him against the wall.

  “You were willing to throw me to the wolves!” he shouted into Field’s passive face.

  Field didn’t even flinch. “Ben, as an agent, you’re always willing to give your life for the Establishment. We both know that.”

  “When I consent to it, at the start of each mission!”

  “You consented to it when you joined the Program. You don’t renew your pledge with each mission.”

  Field slowly reached up with his biomechanical arm, and gently but forcefully removed Ben’s hand from his neck, benefiting from the enhanced strength of his fake appendage. Ben knew better than to resist – he didn’t need a broken wrist today.

  “Look Ben,” Field said, taking his seat again. “It was not an easy decision for me. The Echelon insisted I use my best agent. You’re like a son to me, Ben. It hurt me, but I had to do it.”

  “My own father would never take away my right to choose. I’d have gladly died for the Program. But I was tricked into taking this mission. I had no choice in it.” Ben flopped down in the chair opposite Field.

  “Your own father understood the Program, accepted the protocols, and wouldn’t have done a thing differently. I should know. I was his protégé. He was there when I lost my limbs. And neither of us has any regrets.”

  Ben scowled at Field.

  “You couldn’t know what was going on, or it wouldn’t have worked,” Field continued. “Now I’m not going to sit here and defend the decisions of the Establishment. You have saved Earth, saved the Solar System, and even saved other systems from future assaults of Axo. You will be retired with honor. Isn’t tomorrow your retirement day?”

  “Yes,” said Ben somberly.

  “It’s just such a shame that Olivia won’t get an honorable retirement. I wish we’d been able to recover her body, so we could have had a proper Program Threnody Ceremony.”

  “When she was killed on Axo’s ship, I wasn’t able to carry her body to the shuttle. There was just no time.”

  Field saw the look in Ben’s eye, and said, “It’s alright, Ben. I understand. You may be like a son to me, but that girl was like a daughter. Her death will weigh even more heavily on me than the others we suffer each year in the Program.”

  Ben leaned forward in his chair. “You know, despite the manipulation, I’m glad I was able to serve the Program as I did on this final mission. And I’m glad to have known you, Sir.”

  “In a few hours, you’ll be a civilian,” Field said, breaking into a small, rarely seen smile. “Call me John.”

  #

  The fire cracked and popped in the large fireplace of the great room of the rustic lodge in the Swiss Alps. Ben stood beside the hearth, staring into the flames, feeling the warmth emanating from the burning logs.

  A man in a suit entered quietly from a side door and gave him a terse nod.

  “Are you ready?” he asked Ben.

  “More than ready,” Ben said.

  At that moment, a figure appeared at the top of the staircase that led down to the great room. Slowly, methodically, the woman glided down the stairs like an angel descending from the heavens. Her dress flowed behind her as she stepped up to Ben and took his hand.

  “Olivia, you look . . . um,” he paused, and one side of his mouth cu
rled upward as he burst into a short laugh, “I’m actually speechless! I’d say ‘beautiful,’ but that just doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

  “Thank you. You look pretty hot yourself in that tuxedo,” said Olivia with a wink.

  “Shall we begin?” asked the man in the suit.

  “Absolutely,” they both said together.

  Within minutes, they were married. As they signed the legal papers, Olivia looked at Ben.

  “It’s too bad Field couldn’t be here to see this,” she said.

  “I know,” said Ben, “but if he didn’t think you were dead, there’d be no wedding to see. You’d be spending one more year trying to stay alive in the Program, and I’d be going crazy worrying about you.” He took her hand and started to lead her upstairs. “I’m glad we did it this way.”

  “I guess we got the last laugh on the Program, eh?”

  “Actually,” said the man in the suit, removing his flesh-like mask, “you should know there’s nothing the Program doesn’t know.”

  “Field?” the newlyweds said together, shock on their faces.

  “Don’t worry,” Field smiled. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

  THE END

  * * * * *

  Initiate

  Yet another dark back alley meeting. More swirling mists on a foggy San Francisco night. And once more, Corporal Nigel Halsted was being asked to do things that left him feeling uncomfortable. The shadowy figure that spoke to him did nothing to assuage his discomfort. Instead, the man was all cloaks and daggers, and pressure.

  “Look, Halsted, I’m really giving you a break, here, you know. You got the additional training you did because you were top of your class at the SpaceForce Academy, and because certain – tests – we administered showed you were a perfect candidate for our group. This assignment is a real chance for you to show your mettle.”

  Nigel wasn’t stupid. He knew this group he’d agreed to join was operating way below the radar, seemingly independent of any kind of SpaceForce oversight. That was the problem – the clandestine nature of the group was exhilarating, but at the same time, he had a hard time trusting them.

  They seemed to answer to no one, and Nigel was a firm believer in the chain of command. But if what they said was true – that they existed purely for the betterment of mankind – then perhaps their other mantra was also true: that some organizations must exist in secret, outside the bounds of standard authorities, in order to preserve the way of life that makes those authorities possible.

  It seemed a convincing enough argument, in a kind of convoluted-rationalization sort of way. Even if he could swallow the circular reasoning justifying this group’s existence, Nigel still wasn’t sure that they trusted him.

  “My mettle, eh? More like to prove my allegiance.”

  “Halsted, this mission is critical. If we wanted to test your allegiance, we’d choose another way. I’ve handpicked you for this assignment because I believe you have what it takes to carry it out. Period.”

  The man spoke in half whispers – probably out of habit. Nobody else was around, but as long as Nigel had known Hughes – which was about four years – the man had always come off as conspiratorial and suspicious of everyone. Years of covert ops must do that to a man. Either that, or he spoke that way merely to affect an air of danger.

  Nigel considered for a moment, and decided this first adventure for the group would at least give him more insight into the furtive organization.

  “Very well. When do you need me?”

  “You’re a good man, Halsted. The assignment begins immediately. Take a look at these files.”

  Hughes handed Nigel a handheld Tactile Optical/Text Engine. He read the first few lines on the TOTE, then looked up.

  “Skabrins? Interesting sounding name for a species,” Nigel said, staring at the text on the TOTE.

  “Well, they look downright terrifying,” Hughes said. “Take a look at the images in the file.”

  Nigel tapped the screen and a snarling brute appeared on the TOTE, his deep-set eyes aflame with fury beneath a ridged cranium and wild, scraggly black hair. His fu-manchu style facial hair and jagged teeth completed the portrait of a crazed thug.

  “Ugh,” he said, screwing up his face. “Do they all look like that, or is this a particularly nasty one?”

  “The Skabrins are a race of warriors. They’re aggressive, ruthless, and out to conquer. They glory in dying in combat. Well, you can read the reports for yourself.”

  The reports were a highly classified set of files that another of Hughes’ operatives had stolen from the Passis intelligence agency, V’Shar. Another operative smuggled the data back to Earth, and other members of Hughes’ group – higher level members – analyzed the information. They decided that another mission was now in order.

  “How am I supposed to get there – to the Skabrins? The Passiss are still holding up development of the Bowman-designed vessel. They’re saying it could be years before we’re allowed to begin a full-scale exploratory mission.”

  The Passis were the first extra-terrestrial race encountered by humans, some forty years previously. Being a very logical and cautious species, the emotionless beings had taken it upon themselves to form a sort of patron-protégé relationship, overseeing Earth’s space program and ushering them into a growing collective of other planets as a sort of sponsor. However, the process was going much slower than many humans would have liked.

  “Actually, we fully expect the Discovery – that’s what we’ve established it will be called – will launch that mission in six months. Everyone thinks the Passiss are in charge, but our group is pulling strings like you couldn’t begin to imagine. Anyway, you won’t be on an Earth vessel. You’re going to be riding with the Passiss.”

  “The Passiss? And how am I going to pull that off? They don’t allow humans on their vessels.”

  “You’ll be surgically altered – temporarily, of course – to look like one of them. We’ll mask your body odor – they’re very sensitive to humans – and give you an identity. The hardest part will be acting like one of them.”

  “That shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll just remember not to crack any jokes.”

  #

  Nigel sat alone in a small, Spartan room aboard the M’Leth, a Passis cruiser. Since boarding, he’d only had to speak to two of the Passiss aboard the ship. He had done a good job – he betrayed none of the emotions of anxiety that he was keeping buried deep within.

  Now, in his quarters, he stared at a candle, meditating. He felt that immersing himself in the role helped him to really embrace the cover and solidify the authenticity required to fool everyone around him one hundred percent of the time. Anything less would mean failure, and he could not afford that. If he were discovered, not only would it compromise this mission, but it could do serious damage to human-Passis relations, setting back Earth’s space program indefinitely.

  Nigel took one more deep, meditative breath, then closed his eyes for a moment, examining the after-image of the flame dancing with the phosphenes against the darkness of his eyelids. He reopened them and reached for the candle, slowly snuffing it between his forefinger and thumb. He rose unassisted from cross-legged to standing, and sat on the edge of his bunk.

  The Passis robes he wore were actually quite comfortable and the fabric breathed sufficiently, so he did not feel too warm, despite the slightly high temperature aboard the ship. He switched on his SpaceForce TOTE, which was disguised as a piece of Passiss technology, entered a security code, and once again reviewed the details of his assignment. By his calculations, this ship would be at the outskirts of Skabrin space in another three days, and he wanted to be sure he had memorized every last detail of the data before the next phase of the operation began.

  #

  The M’Leth docked at a trading post in a small asteroid field at the edge of Skabrin space. According to Nigel’s files, this was where a Passis ambassador aboard the ship was to meet with a certain Ska
brin leader to discuss plans for a non-aggression treaty. Nigel had told Hughes that he thought such a treaty would be in everyone’s interest, given how hostile the Skabrins seemed to be.

  Hughes had told Nigel to leave the thinking to his superiors.

  Their view was that a pact between the Passiss and Skabrins could threaten Earth’s interests in the long term, particularly since the Passiss were making these arrangements without consulting their human allies, possibly weakening Earth’s position in the galaxy’s burgeoning alliances. Nigel tried not to question the group’s analysis, but something didn’t quite sit right. Nevertheless, he went forward with full intentions of completing his mission as assigned.

  Hughes had supplied Nigel with a cutting-edge universal translation implant that resided deep in his ear canal and was not detectable by standard scanning devices. With it, he was able to clearly understand a shipwide announcement that informed all aboard the M’Leth that they were free to disembark, and that the vessel would remain docked for two hours, thirty-two minutes.

  Those Passiss and their precision.

  Taking his cue, Nigel stashed his TOTE in the folds of his robe, put on a tan hooded cloak, and headed out of his quarters. He passed several Passiss serenely walking the ship’s corridors. Most didn’t even look at him, but a few offered him terse, expressionless nods, which he returned, stone-faced.

  For once, I’m glad the Passiss are such a cheery lot, he thought. No need to try to make idle conversation and risk blowing my cover.

  He quickly pushed the thought aside, remembering the importance of keeping his cover at the surface of his thoughts – because of the Passiss’ telepathic abilities. Hiding among them entailed more than just looking like them and speaking like them. He had to be like them, even on the inside, or risk exposure. It required intense concentration to keep his true identity buried.

  He stepped through the airlock into a docking corridor, then through another doorway that led to a huge open area. The air was hot and dry – even hotter than aboard the M’Leth – and the lighting was dimmer than Nigel would have liked. The whole facility was built into the interior of a massive hollow asteroid. High above, in the rocky “roof” of the facility, large round portholes provided a view of the stars.