EMPIRE: Investigation

by Richard F. Weyand

  “Scraping them?”

  “Copying anything that might be of value, sir,” Dennler said. “Ignoring standard software and taking things like databases and message stores.”

  “Is this Culligan and Purny again?”

  “I don’t see how it can be, sir. Purny is in Stolits City Jail, and Culligan is missing. He’s not at the hotel.”

  “Then what the hell is going on?” Knowlton asked.

  “We don’t know, sir. We’re trying to figure it out. But it’s a very fast machine on the other end. It’s not some individual hacker.”

  “Shit.”

  Dennler was monitoring another channel as well, and he suddenly got wide-eyed.

  “Sir, there’s something else we need to deal with happening right now.”

  As data rolled in from the Navy people, the investigation map started a whole new level of expansion. Sanford Hayes watched it fill out, then noticed another pattern.

  “Display red and green contacts and connections only.”

  The map changed, with all the other contacts and connections fading to grey.

  “Holy shit,” Lea Whitmore said.

  “You see it, too, Lea?”

  “Yes, sir. It’s a money machine.”

  “It sure is. And who’s collecting?”

  “Sector Governor Bartholomew Gerber.”

  “Got it in one.”

  Activating The Reserve

  Captain Daniel Parnell was just getting into bed when the message came in. He submitted his Imperial Decree to the base computer and it acknowledged his promotion and authority, and listed him as commanding officer, Fourth Battalion, Second Regiment, Sixty-Fifth Division, Twenty-First Field Group of His Majesty’s Imperial Marines.

  Parnell hit the all-hands channel, which would now include the entire battalion.

  “Saddle up!”

  The Marines, who had guessed something was coming, groaned. Of course, it was right at bedtime, after a full day.

  “This is not a drill. This is not an exercise. Saddle up!”

  That got the adrenaline flowing. Marines jumped out of their bunks and started to suit up in full battle-rattle.

  It was time to party.

  Parnell also sent a message to the motor pool officer on watch. This week, as luck would have it, First Sergeant Fred Murphy had the overnight duty.

  “There it is. Thirty-two APCs, five command APCs, and an APC-CV. Just like I told ya. C’mon, fellas. Rev ‘em up.”

  The motor pool was filled with the sounds of diesel engines firing up, then settling down as they warmed up.

  Marines, now in full combat kit – MCUs, covers, and rucks – grabbed the rest of their field weapons from their newly checked and prepped stores, and boiled out of the barracks into their mustering areas along the road.

  All except the drivers and their gunners. The drivers, less rucks, headed at a dead run for the motor pool. Their gunners, wearing their own rucks, each carried their driver’s ruck with them. It was an old drill, and by now was habit as much as learning.

  “What the hell is going on here?” Major Patrick Hume bellowed as he came out into their mustering area.

  Brevet Major Daniel Parnell walked up to him.

  “You stand relieved, Major Hume.”

  “The hell I do.”

  “Check your VR, Major. Imperial Guard has activated its reserves.”

  Hume checked his status in the VR and stood stunned. He watched as a column of APCs, running slitted headlights, rumbled toward them from the motor pool.

  “Stand back, Major Hume. There you go.”

  As the APCs lined up and started loading – two rifle squads to an APC, two APCs to a platoon, four platoons to a company, and four companies in Fourth Battalion – the Command Sergeant Major of the division came at a dead run from the division headquarters area. With him came his small staff, and a lieutenant.

  Command Sergeant Major Deke Kearsarge ran up to where Parnell was standing and saluted.

  “Begging your pardon, Sir. You’ll be needing staff for that APC-CV, I’m thinking.”

  To Parnell’s raised eyebrow, Kearsarge continued.

  “Well, I picked up on what was going on, more or less, Sir. And I kept an ear to the ground. When I got a heads up you were all gettin’ dressed for the party, Sir, well, I grabbed some headquarters staff here. General Turley’s gonna need staff, Sir.”

  Parnell stared at him blankly.

  “Check the base staff listing, Sir.”

  Parnell did, and saw that Imperial Guard Lieutenant General Ann Turley was listed as commanding, Sixty-Fifth Division and Imperial Fleet Base Dalnimir.

  “Right you are, Sergeant Major. And the local police have decided to illegally detain General Turley. We’re going to go rectify that situation. With extreme prejudice. Saddle up.”

  “Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

  Kearsarge waved his fellows to the APC-CV. He also gave encouragement to Fourth Battalion. No one can generate a bellow quite like an Imperial Marine Command Sergeant Major.

  “LET’S GO, YOU GUYS. LET’S GO. DON’T KEEP THE GENERAL WAITING. SHE’S NOT AS PATIENT AS ME.”

  Parnell smiled and shook his head. The battalion command APC came up then, and he climbed aboard and settled into the commander’s seat.

  “Major,” Sergeant Major Joss Tritten said, nodding.

  The sergeant major seemed to have no trouble adapting to the abrupt change in his commanding officer.

  “Sergeant Major, let’s lead ‘em out by companies. We’ll fall in between First and Second Company. Whenever everybody’s ready.”

  “Yes, Sir.

  Parnell called Kearsarge in the private VR system the vehicles all shared.

  “Kearsarge here, Sir.”

  “Sergeant Major, we’ll have you fall in between Second Company and Third Company.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “And we’ll be picking up a passenger along the way. General Turley’s partner in this little spy op they’ve been on. We want to have him ride along in the APC-CV. When we get a signal from him, we’ll let you know.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  The thirty-eight armored vehicles pulled out, forming up as they went. Fourth Battalion was on the move.

  Major Hume stood on the sidewalk in front of their barracks and watched them go.

  It was fifty miles to the outskirts of Stolits from Imperial Fleet Base Dalnimir. The APCs were intended to hold their own in an armored column with M15 tanks, at least in fuel conserving mode, so they made a steady fifty miles an hour.

  An hour after they left IFB Dalnimir, they hit the outskirts of Stolits. It was a big city, and they still had nearly fifty miles to go. It was now coming up on eleven o’clock, and the broad boulevard feeding into the city center from IFB Dalnimir was mostly deserted.

  When they hit the outskirts, Darnell started pinging Howell Culligan and Paul Gulliver, not knowing if he would be able to pick up on the military channel. He assumed pinging him on the public channels would be a bad idea.

  “Gulliver here, Major Parnell.”

  “Mr. Gulliver. Where are you?”

  “I’m on Capitol Boulevard, which is your most direct route, I think. I’m about five miles from the city center. Cross street here is Ferma Ulitsa.”

  Parnell queried his map channel.

  “I see it. We’ll be there presently. Your ride is the APC-CV, which is the one vehicle in the column that looks different. It’s halfway back. They’ll stop to pick you up.”

  “All right. Thanks.”

  “No problem. Then we go pick up General Turley, right?”

  “Yes. I know where she is, but I don’t know if she’s still alive.”

  “Kearsarge.”

  “Sergeant Major, you are picking up Paul Gulliver, a civilian, at Capitol Boulevard and Ferma Ulitsa. I’ve tagged the map. About half an hour ahead now. He’ll be looking for your vehicle.”

  “Yes, Sir. One civilian. Ferma Ulitsa. Three zero minut
es.”

  Gulliver saw the column coming. Must be forty Imperial Marine APCs all told, making fifty miles an hour down the boulevard. It was a pretty sight.

  Halfway back he saw the humpbacked shape of an APC-CV. He walked across the outbound lanes to the center island and stood there with his arms out.

  The APC-CV swung over into the left inbound lane and pulled up alongside him. The hatch opened, and a big fellow leaned out.

  “Paul Gulliver?”

  “That’s me.”

  “Come on up.”

  Gulliver scrambled up the ladder and into the cabin. The big command sergeant major – Kearsarge, his name tape said – waved him into a seat.

  He was finally safe. But what of Ann?

  Arrest and Assault

  When the police cars showed up in the alley across the street from the Capitol View Hotel, Jan Purny held her hands in the air, the guns on the alley pavement at her feet.

  “Stay right there,” one police PA said.

  “I surrender,” she called out.

  One policeman came up and put her in handcuffs, taking down one arm at a time. He then hung a VR suppressor around her neck. Purny couldn’t access the public VR system, but she could still access the expensive professional surveillance cameras in her hat. Must be some sort of protected channel or sideband or something. She started thinking about how she might use that.

  “All right. Come along.”

  “Am I being detained?”

  “Yes, while this situation is investigated.”

  He took her to one of the police cars and put her in the back seat. While she sat and watched, a forensic crew showed up and began taking pictures of everything. They bagged her guns, the criminals’ weapons, and the cartridge casings.

  One policeman then drove her down to the Stolits City Jail. She was brought into an interview room and told to sit. A detective entered.

  “So what happened in that alley tonight?”

  “I’ll be happy to answer all your questions in the presence of my attorney.”

  “Well, we’re not going to be able to get an attorney down here tonight this late, so just answer some quick questions and we can let you go.”

  You can let me go now, if you want, and you aren’t, so what are the odds you’ll change your mind, eh? she thought.

  “I’ll be happy to answer all your questions in the presence of my attorney. I’m sure he would come down now if I could call him.”

  “We’ll call him in the morning.”

  The detective got up and left the room.

  A prison guard came in and took her down the hall to something called the Input Processing Room – Female. A female guard was waiting. She had a prison orange jumpsuit and booties on the table. The male guard left.

  “Disrobe.”

  Purny stripped down, including taking off her forearm rigs, setting it all on the table. The forearm rigs got a curious look.

  “Put your arms straight up in the air and turn around slowly.”

  Purny did as she was told, while the woman scanned her critically.

  “Put this on.”

  She pushed the orange jumpsuit across to Purny, with the booties on top. Purny felt around for it on the table, though it was in plain sight.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m blind. I see in VR through a camera on the front of my hat. That decorative stud on the front is a camera.”

  “No kidding.”

  The guard got up and walked around to Purny. She looked her in the eye, then made a fist and swung it, stopping an inch from her face. Purny didn’t blink. It was easy not to blink, because she was logged into the cameras in the hat. She wasn’t using her eyes, so there was no automatic blink reflex. Her eyes had the unfocused look of the long-term blind – or someone in VR.

  “OK, you can put on the hat.”

  The guard gave her the hat, and Purny took it and put it on her head.

  “Thank you.”

  “Now get dressed.”

  Purny put on the jumpsuit and the booties, and stood waiting for instruction.

  The guard took all her things, put them all into a box with a number on it, recorded the number, and set the box on a counter behind her.

  Another guard came into the room.

  “Cell 237.”

  “What’s with the hat?”

  “She’s blind. That front stud is a camera. If we don’t let her have it we’re gonna have to lead her around, feed her, lead her to the john, everything. Simpler to let her keep it.”

  “That’s fair. OK. Come on, you.”

  The new guard took her by the arm and led her out of the room through a locked door in the back wall. They had to wait for the unlock sequence to cycle, then she led Purny through the door and down a corridor of cells, up a floor, and back along the hallway. She opened cell 237 and waved Purny into it, then closed and locked the door behind her.

  There was a woman asleep in the bottom bunk. Purny climbed into the top bunk and lay down. She set her VR implants to monitoring the cameras for alarm-upon-movement. If all the cameras picked up changes in the video – such as if she moved her head – she would get no alarm. But if a subset of the cameras picked up changes, she would get an alarm in VR.

  Then she rolled over toward the wall and tried to sleep.

  She had drifted off and been asleep for an hour or so when the camera alarm went off. She was instantly awake without moving. Her cellmate was up and moving around. She had something in her hand. She came up to Purny’s bunk, raised her hand, and–

  As her hand came down, Purny spun in the bunk and grabbed the wrist of the woman’s weapon hand. She twisted hard and kept rolling in the bunk to come down on top of the woman and take her to the ground. She could feel her weapon arm break as she fell. When Purny hit the ground, her knee came down on the other woman’s chest, driving the air out of her. Purny stood up, then smashed the heel of her foot down on the woman’s trachea. She lay thrashing on the ground, trying desperately to breathe as she died.

  The woman had screamed out when her arm broke, and several minutes later, a guard came by to check on things. Purny was back in her bunk, asleep. The guard peered into the cell.

  “Oh, my God.”

  With VR suppression throughout the cell blocks, the guard hit a control on her chest. Alarms went off, lights came on, guards came running. They came into the cell, shook Purny awake.

  “Wha’? Wha’s a matter?”

  “What’s the matter? Look at this.”

  “Wow. Did she fall?”

  “You killed her is what happened. It’s a murder charge now. You’ll be hanged for this.”

  Purny said nothing. If you didn’t fight back, you died. If you fought back and won, it was murder, and you died.

  Nice setup. You get ‘em either way.

  Showdown

  The column of APCs continued into the downtown area, headed for the Stolits City Jail. There was more than a little consternation about it among the local law enforcement and government types who were up at that hour. They began waking others.

  The nine APCs of First Company went on past the Stolits City Jail, which put the battalion command APC directly in front of the building. Brevet Major Daniel Parnell got out of the vehicle and walked up the steps into the building. The APC-CV drove past Second Company and pulled up in front as well.

  Parnell walked through the glass doors and across the lobby to a service counter. The clerk was gaping out the door at the APCs.

  “Hello,” Parnell said.

  The clerk continued to stare out the window.

  “HELLO.”

  The clerk started.

  “Oh. Uh, yes. May I help you?”

  “Get me the night shift supervisor.”

  “Who are you?”

  The clerk was in uniform.

  “That’s ‘Who are you, Major?’ Go get the night shift supervisor.”

  “Uh, yes, sir.”

  The clerk disappeared, and c
ame back with a gruff and muscular fellow in a sergeant’s uniform. He looked out the window at the APCs, then turned to Parnell.

  “What’s going on?”

  “You are going to release Jan Purny to me immediately.”

  “Ain’t happenin’, Mac. She killed a gal in there tonight. She’s up on murder charges now.”

  Parnell looked at his uniform. Name tape said Beckham. He looked up Sergeant Beckham in the city employee listing, found his VR ID, and shoved the Imperial Decree to him over VR.

  “That’s an Imperial Decree. Release Jan Purny to me.”

  The sergeant looked at it a bare few seconds.

  “Probably fake. She ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

  Parnell said to Kearsarge in VR, “Sergeant Major, could you arrange for the lead APC of Second Company to join me here in the lobby and target this asshole I’m speaking with?”

  “That’s gonna entail a certain amount o’ breakage, Sir.”

  “Understood, Sergeant Major. Oh, and have the guys get out and stretch their legs. Carry on.”

  Parnell turned his attention back to the desk sergeant.

  “Failure to comply with an Imperial Decree is treason, the penalty for which is death.”

  The lead APC of Second Company – the one behind his battalion command APC in line – turned out of line toward the building. It drove across the sidewalk, up the short broad steps of the building, and right through the glass wall and doors of the front of the lobby. Glass crashed and aluminum window and door frames twisted and broke.

  The APC stopped in the middle of the lobby, and then the front osmium driver traversed to point at the sergeant. The side hatches opened and two rifle squads of Imperial Marines dismounted and set up a perimeter. Several of them pointed their rifles at the gaping Sergeant Beckham.

  “Understand me, Sergeant Beckham. Jan Purny is leaving with me. And I will kill every single person in this building who tries to prevent it. Do you want to be first?”

  “N- n- no, Sir.”