EMPIRE: Investigation

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EMPIRE: Investigation Page 15

by Richard F. Weyand


  “Every building, Sergeant.”

  “Yes, Ma’am. We have several teams. We figure the deployment buildings will be last.”

  “Very good, Sergeant. Dismissed.”

  Dinner was as good as breakfast. Some sort of fish, with a lemon caper sauce, wild rice, and pan-seared vegetables. While they didn’t have a choice of menu items, it was as good as any high-end restaurant in town. They could talk freely now, with the bugs removed.

  “Well, I have to say, flag officers eat very well,” Gulliver said.

  “Base commanders, you mean,” Turley said. “They ran this over from the base commander’s house around the corner.”

  “Ah. Well, it was very good.”

  “Yes, it was.”

  “So what’s next on your agenda?” Gulliver asked.

  “First is to get the arrest list. Second is to meet with the Emperor, tell him what we have complete and what we’re doing next. Third is to brief the new commanders on the other provincial capitals and the sector capital. Fourth is to get the arrests going.”

  “Are you going to leave Admiral Pachner and General Daltrey confined to quarters?”

  “No,” Turley said. “If they’re on the arrest list, they’re going in the brig along with everybody else.”

  Gulliver nodded.

  “That’s probably smart. So then do you move into the base commander’s house?”

  “No. Admiral Zhang and General Walsh move into the commander’s housing for their units. They have enough problems taking on such big assignments without warning or experience. They need the symbolism to underline their authority. Besides, I can move into the Planetary Governor’s Residence if I want. Or the Provincial Governor’s Residence, for that matter.”

  “Or the Sector Governor’s Residence on Earth,” Gulliver said. “Want to move to Paris? I hear it’s nice.”

  “No. Right now I’m too busy to spend four days in hyperspace to get there. I still have to get the corrupt officials in the other provinces arrested and appoint their replacements. I don’t even know where to start with that.”

  “What a mess. We pulled this little string, and it just kept growing.”

  “I know,” Turley said. “I have this weird sense of dread that, when I meet with Sandy Hayes and the Emperor, it will have gotten even worse.”

  “How could it get any worse?”

  Turley just stared at him.

  “Sorry,” Gulliver said. “Forget I said anything.”

  The arrest list showed up in Turley’s mail after dinner, about eight o’clock. She went over it with Gulliver.

  “OK, so the provincial governor and the planetary governor of the capital planet in each of the other provinces,” Turley said. “The sector governor, his personal secretary, the assistant sector governor, and a whole bunch of people in the sector governor’s office.”

  “The director of the planetary police and the chief of police of the capital city in all the provincial capitals.”

  “Yes. And their assistants. And a whole bunch of criminals they kept on the payroll.”

  “Keep going,” Gulliver said. “It gets into the media that was being paid off. Reporters, journalists, editors, publishers.”

  “Oh my God. That will be a firestorm.”

  “Well, if you arrest all these, there won’t be anybody left to write about it.”

  Turley kept scanning.

  “Then we get into the Imperial Navy and Imperial Marines personnel. Navy base commanders and Marine division commanders. All of them. The counter-intel people.”

  “That’s how they got bugs into housing without them ever being detected,” Gulliver said.

  “Apparently so. It goes on and on.”

  Turley sighed.

  “Any ideas about what to ask the Emperor?” she asked.

  “Where do you even start? That’s the obvious one. The more general form of that question is, What order do you do things in? Another basic one is, Who do you appoint as provincial governors? Those spots have to get filled. Presumably the other positions will get filled by others lower down the totem pole.”

  “And planetary governors?”

  “You may have to appoint those, too, pending special elections,” Gulliver said. “I think those are all elected positions in the former Democracy of Planets. So maybe name the interim guy. Or you could install the guy who came in second last time, as the person with the next best claim to it.”

  “Install the guy from the other major party? Oh, that would serve them right.”

  “Can you cross-reference those? Are any of the opposition candidates on the arrest list?”

  Turley pulled up the candidates for planetary governor from the last election on each provincial capital, and ran that list past the arrest list.

  “No. Not a one. Some coincidence, huh?”

  “Funny how that works.”

  “Oh, but here’s the kicker,” Turley said. “Every one of them was pilloried in the press.”

  “And the people who wrote, edited, and published those articles?”

  “Oh, now that’s a match. Not a complete one. But all our arrestees in the media pilloried the guy. Looks like some others just hopped on the bandwagon.”

  “So arrest the media types before you name the planetary governors,” Gulliver said.

  Turley laughed.

  “Yeah. That would serve them right, too.”

  “The next section isn’t arrestees. It’s the people and corporations who paid bribes to this outfit. The arrestees are all people who were taking bribes or otherwise getting paid off. I wondered where all the money was coming from. Some of the amounts paid are pretty staggering, particularly from corporations.”

  “Yeah, and that’s just the amounts the investigators discovered,” Turley said. “Look at how much was rolling in.”

  Gulliver let out a slow whistle.

  “This is amazing.”

  He continued to scroll down the names and numbers, then he started with a realization.

  “Hey. I think I have a way to avoid a media firestorm,” he said. “At least a negative one.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Well, your cover identity is Jan Purny, investigative reporter for the Galactic News Service Investigative Reporting Division, right?”

  “Yeah. So?” Turley asked.

  “So how about you publish the list of perpetrators and the amounts they were paid as an investigative report? Whack all those guys’ credibility before they even get a shot at you.”

  “But I would have to say it came from Imperial Investigations.”

  “No, you wouldn’t,” Gulliver said. “Why would you?”

  “I would have to ask the Emperor for permission to do that.”

  “OK, now that you would have to do. But otherwise? It kills their credibility.”

  “What about libel?” Turley asked.

  “As a public figure in the Empire? Very difficult litigation. And when the Empire, in the form of one Ann Turley, arrests the same list of people, it means it wasn’t libel, it was the scoop of the century.”

  “Ooo. I like it. I like it a lot.”

  “It won’t make you popular, that’s sure,” Gulliver said.

  “I’m not going to be popular anyway.”

  “Well, you’re still the fastest shot in the Empire. Somebody tries for you, they’re gonna get surprised.”

  “Well, prob’ly not the fastest,” Turley said. “But I am fast.”

  When Dunham’s meeting with Sandy Hayes was over, he accepted Ann Turley’s meeting request. It was half past nine, in the morning in Imperial City and in the evening at IFB Dalnimir. They met in channel 22, the simulation of the Emperor’s office.

  “Your Majesty,” Turley said and bowed her head to the eighty-five-year-old monarch.

  “Be seated, Governor Turley.”

  “Thank you, Sire.”

  “Governor Turley, would you mind if Milady Empress joins us this morning?”

  “Of
course not, Sire.”

  Dunham nodded, and Peters joined the conference, sitting in the other chair before the Emperor’s desk.

  Turley bowed her head to the Empress.

  “Milady Empress.”

  “Good morning, Governor Turley.”

  “I read your AAR on yesterday’s events, Governor Turley. Remarkable story. Also remarkable that you’ve had any time to write it.”

  “I wrote it on the two-and-a-half-hour ride from Stolits to Imperial Fleet Base Dalnimir, Sire, while monitoring Admiral Kotov’s efforts to detain Provincial Governor Pearson.”

  Dunham nodded.

  “I was impressed by your shooting skills. I was also impressed by Major Parnell’s performance.

  “Major Parnell was amazing, Sire. Without notifying any of the conspirators, he managed to prep and field an operations-ready battalion.”

  “Yes. I was in the Imperial Marines, Governor Turley, and I know more than a little about how much advance work that takes. And I was amused by his little ploy to make it happen.”

  “He’s a young man who deserves watching,” Peters said.

  Dunham nodded.

  “On to today’s business, Governor Turley. I assume you’ve received and reviewed Mr. Hayes’s report, including the arrest list.”

  “Yes, Sire.”

  “Here is the matching Imperial Warrant.”

  Dunham slid an official document to her across the desk, the simulation’s modeling of him pushing the file to her.

  “So how do you intend to proceed, Governor Turley?

  “I was going to ask you that, Sire, but I do have some ideas.”

  “Proceed, Governor Turley.”

  “Yes, Sire. First, it’s been suggested I arrest the media types before arresting their political favorites. This will cut down the media firestorm over the political types, because they’ll be too busy complaining about the press arrests.”

  “Yes, Governor Turley, there’s nothing the media like more than to talk about themselves.”

  “The military people I will arrest straight away. And Admiral Pachner and General Daltrey, who confined themselves to quarters last night, will also be removed to the brig. I think it’s important for Admiral Zhang and General Walsh to have the symbols of authority to augment their position, given they are junior for those positions.”

  “I concur with all of that, Governor Turley.”

  “Thank you, Sire. There were also two other ideas that came up. Admiral Zhang notes the conspirators in our services may have worked to derail or destroy the careers of loyal service members, and wonders if we can’t do something about that.”

  “That’s a good point, Governor Turley. I will have Mr. Hayes look for negative staff appraisals entered by our oath breakers, and get notations entered that these are most likely attestations of the loyalty of their target given their own corruption.”

  “Thank you, Sire. Admiral Zhang was most concerned on this point.”

  “As am I, now that it has been brought up. Please thank Admiral Zhang for me, Governor Turley.”

  “Yes, Sire. The other idea is a little more unusual. Since my cover identity for this mission was Jan Purny, investigative reporter for the Galactic News Service’s Investigative Reporting Division, Mr. Gulliver wondered if the best first move isn’t to publish the names on the arrest list, and the amounts they were paid, under my nom de plume.”

  Dunham chuckled, while Peters giggled.

  “Which will completely destroy the credibility of all those concerned before they can do anything about it. I like it, Governor Turley. You have my permission to proceed.”

  “Thank you, Sire.”

  “Thank Mr. Gulliver for that idea, Governor Turley. And one additional bit of advice.”

  “Yes, Sire?”

  “When you arrest the media people, arrest the editors first. The reporters can’t publish anything without them.”

  “Good point, Sire.”

  “Anything else for today, Governor Turley?”

  “Yes, Sire. Provincial governors and planetary governors. Mr. Gulliver suggested I name as planetary governor whoever came in second in the last planetary election. It seems like he should be next in line after the assistant governor, who is also going to be in jail.”

  Peters giggled again and Dunham grinned.

  “Putting in power the opposition party, by definition.”

  “Yes, Sire.”

  “Mr. Gulliver is full of good ideas today, Governor Turley, but I may go him one better. Make the opposition candidate from the last election the provincial governor, and make his running mate in the last election the planetary governor. We’ll clean this rot out once and for all. I assume, however, you’ve checked the opposition candidates for not being on the arrest list?”

  “Yes, Sire. Of course.”

  “Just checking, Governor Turley. All right. Don’t hesitate to be in touch as this goes forward.”

  “Yes, Sire. Thank you for this meeting. I’ve felt a little at sea with all this going on.”

  “And yet, you’re doing a splendid job, Governor Turley. Carry on. And assure Admiral Zhang we will be looking at the vindictive appraisal issue. Most people do not understand that, when service members swear oath to the Throne, that oath also binds the Throne to them.”

  “Thank you, Sire.”

  Turley bowed her head, and the Emperor cut her from the channel. That left Dunham and Peters alone on channel 22.

  “Oh, Paul Gulliver is a devious one,” Peters said. “Those were both splendid suggestions.”

  “Yes. I think the surface of his brain is more convoluted than a normal person’s, because what comes out of it surely is. Both of those ideas were genius.”

  “We were so lucky to have them in place.”

  “Yes, but now what do I do with the other three sectors?”

  Gerry Conner went out on his porch even before breakfast that morning and logged into VR. He had had a fitful night’s sleep worrying about his agents on Dalnimir. The last report he had was from Gulliver, on the run after the two were attacked in the alley. He was relieved to get their reports and find out they were both OK. That Turley had been sprung from jail before they managed to kill her.

  I should never have met with her.

  Conner didn’t normally meet with new agents. It was easier to maintain an aloof appraisal of events if he did not become personally knowledgeable of his agents. If he could treat them like ciphers, or at least like operatives and not individual living, breathing human beings.

  I’m getting too old for this. Too personally involved.

  The News Gets Out

  Turley was back in the townhouse with Gulliver when she came out of the meeting with the Emperor.

  “What did His Majesty say?” Gulliver asked.

  “You’re doing great. Keep it up. And he’s going to have Investigations look into bad performance appraisals by our arrestees. He also liked your ideas, for the news article and naming the opposition candidates. He upped the ante, though.”

  “How’s that?” he asked.

  “Make the opposition candidate the provincial governor, and make his running mate the planetary governor.”

  “Ha-ha! That’s getting into the spirit of it. The party in power will have kittens.”

  “Serves ‘em right. Supporting such crooks,” Turley said, shaking her head. “He also did give approval for that article to GNS. Can you work on that for me while I talk to Admiral Kotov?”

  “I’m almost done. I anticipated his approval for that part.”

  “Excellent. I’ll be right back.”

  Turley called Kotov.

  “Kotov here.”

  “Hello, Admiral Kotov. I have that list for you.”

  “Excellent, Governor Turley. VR IDs and all?”

  “Yes, Admiral. Everything you need.”

  “All right. So the plan is no hyperspace transitions unless the captain certifies in writing they have used a VR ID scanner to get
the VR ID of every passenger and crew member and checked them against this list and further certifies in writing they are carrying no person named on the list.”

  “Correct, Admiral. And if they get caught, we might do something like impound the ship while we investigate thoroughly, with the suspension of their captain’s papers on the block. Could take months and may result in permanent revocation of their captain’s papers for aiding and abetting treason against the Throne.”

  “I predict not many people will be willing to risk that, Governor Turley.”

  “Good, Admiral. That’s the point, after all. Turley out.”

  Back in the living room of the townhouse, Gulliver noticed her return from the blank gaze of full-immersive VR.

  “OK, I think I’m about done.”

  He pushed her the article. She read aloud.

  “’Earth Sector Upheaval. Major Corruption Scandal. Top Officials Arrested Or Dead. More Arrests Imminent.’ A four-part headline?”

  “That’s how they do the big ones.”

  Turley scanned down the article.

  “Oh, I like this subheading. ‘The media played along – for cash.’ Are there any GNS people on the arrest list, though?”

  “Yes, but not IRD people.”

  “Well, that’s something. So you think I should send it?”

  “Yes,” Gulliver said, “but they’re going to call the base commander for comment.”

  “I don’t want to answer their questions.”

  “No. Let me.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Tell the base switchboard to send press calls to me.”

  “All right. If you’re sure.”

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  “George! George! You were right,” Joseph Hammer said as he rushed into George Entwhistle’s office. “Look at this.”

  The Eastern Desk editor for the GNS Investigative Reporting Division thrust a hard-copy into the IRD senior editor’s hand. Entwhistle scanned through the copy quickly.

 

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