by Allen Stroud
‘Some people always will,’ Renner said.
‘Until they don’t, our fight isn’t finished,’ Pasion replied. ‘Gebrial, this planet has a complicated political situation. The original colonists came here after leaving the oppression of the Empire. They established a prosperous society and lived well, so well in fact they managed to create a huge galactic organisation based on an agreement of trade and co-operation.’
‘Sounds ideal,’ Gebrial said.
‘Maybe,’ Pasion said. ‘Unfortunately, the people here who were concerned with the stars stopped looking after those around them. Governments fell and dictators rose to power on empty promises. That’s where we are now.’
‘Nice fairytale,’ Renner said, ‘shame it never went like that.’
‘How would you know?’ Pasion said, turning towards him. ‘You weren’t here.’
‘My grandfather—’
‘If I had a credit for every time a Spacer talked about what their ancestors told them, I’d buy the planet!’ Pasion‘s finger jabbed at Renner, a few inches from his nose. ‘If your Grandfather cared for people on Lave, he wouldn’t have let them suffer.’
Renner took a deep breath, plainly struggling to stay calm. ‘The Galactic Co-operative was a better chance for everyone who joined. Free ports and trade, protection, the best of human ideals. We still remember those things.’
‘All built on the backs of the poor who could only gaze up at the stars and dream,’ Pasion said.
‘It’ll be better this time.’
‘It’ll never be better until everyone gets a say in what happens,’ Pasion argued. ‘If people decide they don’t want what you want, are you going to accept that?’
‘This is what you were arguing about before,’ Gebrial said.
Both men stared at her. ‘Yes,’ Renner admitted.
Gebrial nodded and turned to Pasion. ‘How long have you been living in hiding?’ she asked.
‘A long time,’ he replied.
‘So what do you know about the galaxy? Only what people tell you?’ She eyed Renner. ‘And you, you said you were last on this planet years ago? So what do you know about what the people want?’
‘This is not a simple situation,’ he said.
‘Seems simple to me,’ Gebrial said. ‘If you can’t agree, you won’t get anywhere with your plans.’ She glanced at James. ‘I expect I’m not alone in thinking that.’ The boy looked uncomfortable, but nodded. ‘You need to settle these differences,’ Gebrial added.
There was a tense silence. Pasion started to laugh, a little forced at first, but then with genuine humour. Gebrial stared at him, not knowing whether to be angry or confused.
‘Ah, the wondrous wisdom of youth!’ Pasion said. ‘A lesson in humility, thank you; it is needed even at my age. Would you like a drink and a seat? There is much to discuss.’
Gebrial eyed him suspiciously, but she realised she was thirsty and no alternatives were apparent. ‘Okay,’ she said finally, walked over to the chairs and sat. Pasion followed, pausing to fill a plastic cup from a water dispenser and hand it to her. Renner took another chair near her and James moved over to the far side, pulling out a dataslate, which he held out.
‘I’ve fixed the screen and added the planetary encryption codes,’ he said. ‘You can browse Lave’s datanet, although I wouldn’t recommend believing much of it.’
Gebrial took the device and smiled gratefully. ‘What do you want from me Pasion?’ she asked.
‘We want to offer you a home here,’ he replied, ‘but, we also need to convince you of our cause, something I’m plainly not doing a good job of.’
‘You haven’t been,’ Gebrial said, ‘makes me wonder, why all the effort? I’m nobody here, few skills or assets to be used. What’s in this for you?’
Pasion sighed. ‘I’ll be frank. We need your help to convince someone who’ll be more difficult.’
Gebrial nodded. ‘You want Pietro.’
‘Yes.’
‘If you want him onside, why’d you strap him down?’
Pasion frowned. ‘Because young lady, Agent Devander is a very, very dangerous man.’
* * *
Waves lapped against the side of the sea sled, the motor running idle as Bertrum stared thoughtfully at Karsian’s glowing home.
The prefect of Kadia had bid him goodbye from the jetty and returned to his office. Bertrum watched him, sitting on the same couch, staring at a large viewscreen in one of the glass panels. He couldn’t make out the images on the screen, but they changed and scrolled regularly, as if he were going over entries.
Bertrum sighed and sat back down in the boat. What were you hoping to achieve coming here?
Talking to Karsian had been unproductive and a wasteful use of time; no guilty looks or flashes of weakness. He had things to hide, but there were no clues. How do you conceal anything in a duraglass sphere?
‘Niamh, list active security camera logs for Karsian residence on Sark.’
The dataslate in the sled’s control console lit up. ‘Working,’ was the dispassionate reply. ‘Authorisation needed.’
Bertrum stood up and touched his thumb to the screen. A list appeared and he bent down to examine it. Security video files, pages and pages as he expected. He tapped on one. The display darkened for a moment and returned to the page. He tried another, the same result.
All the files are empty.
Bertrum resumed his seat. ‘Back home Niamh,’ he instructed.
‘Yes Prefect,’ the computer acknowledged and slowly, the sled started moving away.
There was a splash and a hand appeared on the side of the boat. For a split second, Bertrum didn’t recognise the significance, but a face came out of the darkness.
‘You’ve come all this way for answers, Prefect, are you going to help me up?’
A woman in a wetsuit emerged from the water. Bertrum hesitated, but then got up and grabbed her arm. ‘Niamh, halt engines,’ he ordered.
The servoes on his legs whined at the extra strain, but he succeeded in helping the woman aboard and she sat in a wet heap on deck.
‘Keep your course,’ she said. ‘Get us out in the middle and we’ll talk properly.’
‘Niamh, resume,’ Bertrum said.
‘Acknowledged,’ the computer replied.
* * *
‘What do you make of her?’ Ennis asked.
Admiral Jander looked up. They were back on the shuttle, the docking tube had detached and the ships were gradually moving apart. ‘She’s not telling us everything,’ Jander said, ‘but the information she has given is useful.’
Ennis grunted. ‘Not keen on going to war for the Imperials.’
‘We won’t be doing that,’ Jander reassured him. ‘But knowing about the fleet in the system helps.’ He stretched back in the chair. ‘She’s right on several counts. The Alliance wants more signatories and what mineral rights we gain from Quator won’t pay for the infrastructure needed to make this place viable. Anything planned here is going to take decades to bear fruit, unless we get a lot more help.’
‘We won’t be getting that from the Empire,’ Ennis said.
‘Godwina isn’t the Empire right now,’ Jander explained. ‘If she thought Imperials would back a military mission to Lave, she’d be there already. They believe she’s dead and you don’t see her racing off to convince them otherwise.’
Ennis raised an eyebrow. ‘You think she’ll turn?’
‘She might.’
A touch of manoeuvring thrust and the shuttle picked up speed then angled towards the sprawling megalopolitan profile of the Furnace. ‘She’ll never be a pretty ship,’ Jander remarked ruefully.
‘Fancy skirts don’t make for much,’ Ennis said. ‘The Imperials learned the hard way in Alioth.’
‘Would any local navy down here match her?’ Jander asked.
Ennis frowned. ‘You’re not considering—’
‘No I’m not, I’m asking for an assessment, Commander.’
&nb
sp; The use of his title stiffened Ennis’ back. ‘Sir, if what the ambassador says is true and only a trade fleet’s out there, we’ve no reason for caution. In fact, freighters would work for us. Lots of ships in the system means any military vessels will be concerned with protecting them rather than coming out here. We’d need to know what assets they do possess though, pretty quick.’
Jander nodded. ‘I want a tactical contingency for Lave worked out with all the information we have. Oversee it yourself - needs an experienced head.’
‘Happy to,’ Ennis said. ‘Straight up I can tell you where we’ll fail.’
‘Where’s that?’
‘The planet. We don’t have the equipment or manpower to invade,’ Ennis said.
Anders eased the shuttle towards the landing cradle and Jander thought back over everything said in the meeting, sifting through the details. ‘One of the reasons we’re in Quator is to pick a side,’ he said ‘not dirty our hands. Godwina mentioned she was saved by someone on the streets and she wouldn’t be here if she didn’t think there was a chance. If a rebellion’s at work, might be we don’t need to do the heavy lifting, just show up at the right time.’
‘How would we know when that is?’ Ennis asked.
Jander smiled. ‘I’ve no idea.’
* * *
‘Who are you?’ Bertrum asked.
‘You start a conversation with the most obvious question, but probably the least useful.’
‘Okay,’ Bertrum said. ‘What do I call you?’
The woman smiled in response, peeling off the wetsuit head piece to reveal a short bob of dark wet hair and Bertrum recognised her.
‘Anna?’
‘Yes Prefect,’ her smile broadened. ‘The look on your face right now is something I’ll treasure.’
‘You followed me?’
‘No, I was already here, you happened to arrive,’ Anna reached to her belt, pulled out a pistol and began checking the mechanism.
‘What’s that for?’ Bertrum asked.
‘In case I need to kill you,’ Anna replied and stared at him. Her smile remained fixed, but suddenly chilling.
‘Kill me?’ Bertrum said. ‘But—’
‘Prefect, dwelling on this won’t help you much,’ Anna said. ‘How about we discuss why you’re here?’
‘I’m investigating accounting discrepancies,’ Bertrum said. ‘I believe funds were embezzled and redirected from the public coffers.’
‘And this trail led you to Sark, because of the power transfer issues you’d discussed with Karsian?’
Bertrum frowned. ‘You’re my aide, I’m not answerable to you for my decisions,’ he said.
‘We’re all answerable to the Good Doctor, Prefect,’ Anna replied, ‘and I’m more than just your aide. You also understand how these things work. You’re constantly monitored, as is Prefect Brunan.’
‘You’re from LaveSec?’
‘I can’t answer, Prefect.’
‘Well, you already learned why I’m here,’ Bertrum said. ‘Either you’re to get rid of me or help.’
‘I’m authorised to contact you and give you some information,’ Anna replied, ‘but on the condition you drop your investigation.’
‘That doesn’t make sense,’ Bertrum said.
‘Perhaps what I say will settle your mind and enable you to concentrate on matters at hand,’ Anna said. ‘Now, do you agree to the terms?’
‘What happens if I don’t?’ Bertrum said.
‘I shoot you and dump you overboard, return the boat to your house and arrange things as a suicide attempt,’ Anna said pleasantly, sending a shiver up his spine. ‘Please don’t make this difficult Prefect Kowl. I’m trained at this and I am familiar with your physical limitations.’
Bertrum sat down. ‘I accept the terms,’ he said.
‘You’re aware we’ll enforce them?’ Anna said.
‘You’re going to be checking up on me in the office?’ Bertrum smiled bitterly. ‘It will be difficult to maintain the charade now I know what you are.’
‘You won’t see me again,’ Anna said, ‘unless you break the terms.’
‘I said I agree. Now, your turn.’
‘Very well,’ Anna said. ‘I can tell you fraud is being committed, funds are being siphoned from the planetary administration accounts. The matter is under investigation and will be dealt with, but not by you.’
‘That’s all?’
‘Yes, we’ll contact you if we need help.’
Bertrum sighed. ‘So, once again, I’m to trust the machinery of the state.’
‘Of course,’ Anna said. ‘You’ve trusted the state your whole life. You have plenty to keep you occupied, a crashed ship to find and survivors to locate.’
‘The military took over,’ Bertrum said. ‘I have no power to act and all the blame to take when the operation goes wrong.’
‘We can help you, I think,’ Anna said. ‘Go back to Ashoria. I’m sure you’ll find things have changed.’
* * *
‘Mister Kel?’
‘How did you get this ident?’
‘Does it matter, Mister Kel? I’m here to offer you a job, with substantial payment.’
Heldaban Kel sighed. He sat in the pilot’s chair of the Sidewinder, floating motionless in the Castellan Belt, the asteroid field on the edge of the Lave system. The viewscreen remained blank and the voice was digitally scrambled, removing any identifiable characteristics. Given a few hours and some work on a recording, he could reconstruct it, but the transmission had a baffler, which meant the Sidewinder’s recorder wasn’t picking it up. Again, with effort, he might get around it, but ...
‘Go ahead, I’m listening,’ he replied.
‘Mister Kel, I’d like nothing more than to be your Lady of Fortune out here. I’m in a position to help you and your friends, which in turn, benefits me.’
‘Right now, some less cryptic talk would help a lot,’ Kel said.
‘I’ll be plain then,’ the voice said. ‘Get yourself to Quator for an information drop in twenty-four hours. Once you’re there, sit in the station bar and wait.’
Kel snorted. ‘Quator Station has a bar?’
‘Yeah and it’s quiet,’ said the voice. ‘Just get there and be at a table.’
Chapter 26: The Recruit
‘Mister Devander? We know you’ve been awake for some time.’
Pietro opened his eyes. The straps around his wrists and ankles meant he couldn’t sit up, so he stared at the tent canvas above his head. ‘Doesn’t seem a lot of point in being talkative, seeing as you tied me down,’ he said.
Pasion’s face appeared leaning over him. Bald, with wisps of gray hair around the ears, the old man looked tired, but his water blue eyes were clear and focused. ‘A necessary precaution I’m afraid. We’re aware of your skills.’
‘How so?’ Pietro asked.
‘I was fortunate enough to read your file before we found you,’ Pasion said. ‘When your employers decided to abandon you they wasted a talented resource.’
Pietro sighed. ‘I guessed you weren’t just a kind-hearted soul,’ he said.
‘Wise to draw that conclusion,’ Pasion said. ‘I’d have saved your life anyway, but your abilities make the effort much more … worthwhile.’
‘What do you want?’
‘Your experience may be the difference in altercations between my people and Walden’s, in the short term, well ... there are many possibilities to consider.’
‘You’re making a lot of assumptions, we’re trained not to co-operate,’ Pietro said.
Pasion smiled. ‘I won’t be asking you to give up Federation passwords or important secrets. They abandoned you so there’s little you can offer in trade.’
Pietro wiggled his toes and flexed his hands. ‘The restraints aren’t convincing me.’
‘No, indeed,’ Pasion said. He moved to the side and Pietro felt the pressure on his right ankle release. ‘We are talking. I think I can trust you.’
With t
he straps loosened, Pietro slipped his hands through them and sat up. ‘Thank you,’ he said. He noticed an armed guard at the entrance of the tent. The man’s eyes were on him, his expression passive and professional.
‘You’re welcome,’ Pasion said. ‘You must be hungry. Soup? Not much I’m afraid, but it may take the edge off.’
Pietro rubbed his wrists. ‘Why is it so hot in here?’
‘Down to the geography,’ Pasion replied. ‘With our current status, discreet locations are few and far between.’ He turned his back and typed something on an antiquated keyboard. The accompanying monitor went dark and Pasion faced Pietro again and sat down. ‘Now, time for a proper discussion,’ he said.
‘Where’s Gebrial?’
‘Safe and well,’ Pasion said. ‘You both recovered fully from the virus, although we must treat you regularly for the next few days.’
‘And what will that cost me?’ Pietro asked.
Pasion smiled. ‘To be honest, the delivery of the late Atticus Finch provided us with a great deal to think about.’
‘Well, that’s a relief,’ Pietro said.
‘Come now Agent Devander,’ Pasion chided. ‘You were warned off this case before they abandoned you. Your curiosity kept you pushing to find answers, defying your master’s wishes. Don’t you want to learn a little more of the mystery that brought you here?’
Pietro frowned. ‘Depends on what answers cost.’
‘What about if they cost nothing?’
‘You wouldn’t do that.’
Pasion laughed. ‘I’m happy to disappoint you then,’ he slipped his hand into his pocket, pulling out a small vial. ‘This is what you were infected with; an unusual DNA composition.’
‘Unusual?’
‘Yes, artificially spliced, but we can’t determine its purpose.’
‘I’d say that was obvious,’ Pietro said.
Pasion shook his head. ‘Your illness might be a side effect. However, we do know where you contracted it.’
‘Where?’
‘From Atticus Finch, his body was laced with this and with some form of antibody, which we used to help you recover. Hopefully, the virus will run its course and you’ll need only a limited amount of injections.’