“Good luck with that. The Fleet Security people have stopped all flights.” Yelendi sipped her drink. “Really, the problem it’s causing is unbelievable. Half the dock workers are down here on leave and can’t return, and the others are kicking up a fuss because they aren’t trapped in the fleshpots of Mars!” She shook her head in mock weariness.
Felicity smiled. “I hear you on that. Shall we eat? I’m starved.”
On the other side of the room, Bast cursed her luck. Damn. She couldn’t wait now. It took time to set up a switch like this. She would have to take the second option. A pity, the Rowanberg woman was the right size physically, and the facial adjustment would not be difficult, nor the hair, and she was one of the targets on her list. Option Two was slightly taller, but she would have to do.
Her mind made up, she headed out into the thoroughfare.
Marcus had no idea how he managed it, but Peter Mansfield received the images he’d sent of the Johnstone Research Facility excavations and installations, and sent a new device with which to create message transfers by return. These would be attached to his shipping labels, and could be read by someone at the other end using a simple retrieval scanner. He’d been told not to be too concerned with the research facility, but instead to concentrate on military installations. That was a problem.
As far as Marcus could tell, there weren’t any—unless you counted the guards for the research facility. Still, he’d agreed to do this, and anything that could pay back the bastards who were making his life miserable—well, he was certainly going to take the opportunity.
He looked up as Heiko entered and shut the door with more force than usual. “Those damned Planetary Police! Now they say I—we—must have a permit to go to MY damned orchard! Caught four of the bastards helping themselves and loading a hauler with MY fruit! They had the neck to tell me I should be grateful to them for the protection they’re giving us.” He practically spat the word protection.
“We need a permit? Why? Who the hell is supposed to issue them? That bastard Hurker, I suppose.” Marcus stood and helped himself to a drink. “He conveniently didn’t say anything about this when he was here earlier, that weasel. When did this happen?” He handed Heiko a drink. “Do we need permits now to go up to the culturing domes?”
“Probably.” Heiko took a sip and nodded in appreciation at the robust flavour. “They’ve built something about a half kilometre beyond the orchard. I think the ones I caught helping themselves came from there. They’d stripped nearly a third of my trees.”
“A-holes.” Marcus chucked his drink container into a recycler that evaporated it within moments. “We better see Hurker and demand payment. That’s just outright robbery. They know the orchards are ours.”
Heiko nodded. “Yeah, they took everything else and ‘allowed’ us to keep our own orchards.” His air quotes around the word allowed showed how he felt about that.
Marcus glowered. “How kind of them. We’ll have to figure out a way to repay their kindness.”
“We have another body, sir.” The agent stepped aside. “She was Flight Officer Beata Polanski, a regular shuttle pilot, and a bit of a loner. No real friends, kept to herself mostly, but she was the pilot on the last shuttle to leave after the attack on Ms Hollister.”
“No one spotted anything wrong with the pilot’s ID?” Mr Brown stepped closer and studied the corpse. “Interesting. Needle marks. Same modus they used with Ms Hollister.” He stepped back to gain perspective and looked round. “Have forensics examined her?”
“Yes, sir. Confirmed the use of a needle dart. They say it is difficult to put a time of death on her because the killer used a body coolant to drop the temperature and preserve it. One other thing, sir. Someone took a skin peel from her hands, and they made a face mould and took hair from her head.”
“Professional then.” Mr Brown paused. “Very well, I’ll talk to the head of forensics. Inform next of kin and prepare a media release.” He ran a check. “If whoever killed her piloted the last shuttle to the surface and used her ID and passed the DNA check, that means the murderer is now on Mars.” Turning to go, he ordered, “Hold the next of kin and media release until I say otherwise. I don’t want anyone to know we’ve found her.”
“Yes, sir.” The agent watched his Head of Service walk away. “Someone is in for a nasty surprise, I hope.” He summoned the rest of the team. “Total news blackout on this one. Get her down to the mortuary as unobtrusively as possible. Be creative if you have to. No one, and I mean no one, is to mention she’s been found. Clear?”
His mind working furiously, Brown strode to where Commander Brandeis waited. “We have a problem, Piet. We nailed three of the hit team, but the MO suggests their leader is a woman who calls herself Bast after the Egyptian cat goddess. Trouble is, she got away to the surface. If she’s following her usual pattern, she’s already looking for someone else’s identity to hijack, and we’ll have another dead body on our hands soon.”
“Order up your shuttle, sir?”
“Yes. And get me a list of who we’ve got on the surface, and while you’re at it, a list of her possible targets. I think Theresa Hollister was one, but if they’ve sent a full team, they’re after more than just one person.” He climbed into the transport. “I’m heading to the shuttle bay. You can send the information to me there.” As the transport moved off, he used his ultra-secure link to contact his counterpart on the planet. “Max, we have a problem. We’re dealing with Bast, and she’s using the ID of a Shuttle Captain named Beata Polanski. She’ll be looking for a new identity to hijack by now, so put our agents on high alert. Do not, I repeat, do not let any of them go anywhere alone, and do not confront her unless you have people who can take her down if she makes a move that even looks suspicious.”
Bast cursed. All her hard work and careful preparation—and the service droid had found the body minutes after she’d left! Now the damned Security people would be looking for anyone using the ID she’d so carefully copied. Time to activate the rest of the plan. The DockCorp target could be left to her B team to set up and take down, and that would distract attention from her main target, Captain Heron. For now, all she had to do was lose the hunters. They were looking for a woman, so she’d have to take the more difficult route. She grinned. It was a role she enjoyed playing.
Now she needed a place to make the changes. After a moment’s hesitation, she set off for a part of the accommodation level generally only used by sex workers to keep their occupation discreet and separate from the rest of the compound. The emergency kit she always kept on her would come into play, but now she needed complete privacy and several hours undisturbed.
Chapter 15
Catch Me If You Can
James Heron disembarked from the shuttle, returned the Sergeant’s salute, and stepped into the ID scanner.
“Staying long, Captain?” asked the Marine Sergeant who scanned the ID.
“No longer than essential, Sergeant. I’m afraid Mars is hardly my idea of a place to spend a little leave.” His smile surprised the Sergeant, who was more used to senior officers being rather stiff.
“You’re right there, sir. Living in these domes gets a bit restrictive at times. Worse than being on a ship.”
“Worse than on a ship, Sergeant?” Gathering his bag, James Heron chuckled. “I understand there are a few ‘fleshpots’ here we don’t get shipboard, but I don’t have first-hand knowledge, of course.” James grinned.
“Of course not, sir.” The Sergeant laughed. “But that part of the station is a bit restricted at the moment, though. Security protocols. I expect you’ve heard though. Enjoy your stay.”
“I’ll do my best.” Making his way into the corridor, the Captain found a transport pod and entered the code for his accommodation. He leaned back in the seat as the pod moved off, his senses alert though his mind was on the meeting ahead. Progress on the ship was slow, but the delays would be sorted out soon, he hoped. At least that was what his meeting was supposed
to address. It would be good to get away from this dead world. He chuckled at the thought of ‘space pioneers’ in the two previous centuries being convinced that they could make Mars a completely livable planet. Reality had soon imposed its own rules.
So humanity had to be content to live in these self-contained domes. Multi-level, a combination of agricultural spaces—essential for atmospheric replacement and renewal—industrial units, accommodation units and recreational spaces, and all the usual activities humanity needed to at least maintain the semblance of normality. The Sergeant was right, not a place one would really come to for a bit of rest and recreation if there was a choice.
His thoughts turned to home, as they did frequently. He would take the rolling green hills of Ireland any day over this dry-as-toast rock.
Bast, in the guise of a male technician, watched the activity around the suite of her previous victim while apparently running a check on a power distribution substation. Satisfied her opponents were convinced she was now disguised as her victim, she closed the panel. “Warn the others. Time to activate the exit plan.”
“As you like.” Her companion waved to a passing worker. “We’re all set. Just say the word.”
“Good.” Bast pretended to consult her tablet for instructions. “No slip-ups this time,” she said under her breath. “Security think they know who they’re looking for. We all have our IDs switched now, so we head for the shuttle departures.”
“What if they try to stop the shuttles?”
“I’ve got a little something to distract them and make them get the shuttles off planet without delay.” She glared at him, her expression unflinching. “Getting cold feet?”
He laughed. “No! Of course not, but this job is getting a little hotter than I like. Fleet Security are a bit too keen—and I heard their main man is leading it himself.”
“Let them. We have an edge they don’t have, and now they’re looking in the wrong direction for the wrong person. Get going, we have a shuttle to catch. I’ll contact you from the station.”
The explosion ripped through the compartment and ruptured the dome above it. Alarms sounded as pressure doors closed and sealed off the area.
“It’s the power unit for the radiation shields, sir.” The agent closed his link. “The shields are down completely. Mars Centre Control is trying to find out what happened. There’s a triple backup system, but it failed too.”
“Get a team up to the site, ASAP.” Mr Brown glared at the display. “They’ve played a blinder. They know that the emergency procedure if the shields go down is to get all shuttles aloft immediately. Get a list of their destinations. I want the passengers held and screened on arrival.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Keep me updated. I’m on my way to the scene. Warn my team to have my EVA suit ready:” He paused. “Get onto Centre Control and tell them no one is to enter the power—” He stopped as a muffled rumble reached him. “Get a medical team to my rendezvous immediately,” he ordered.
Scanning the restaurant, James Heron spotted Felicity and her table companion, who he recognised as the DockCorp Director for Client Liaison, Ms Dysson. For a moment he hesitated as the android waiter approached. When it enquired as to where he would like to be seated, he said, “I will join my friends at table thirty,” and inclined his head in that direction. “They seem to have a spare place.”
“As you wish, sir, but Ms Dysson said she did not wish to be disturbed.”
“Did she? Well, I’ll try not to disturb her then, Gigi Three. Bring me a white wine, medium dry, please.” He walked directly to the table. “Good evening, ladies. May I join you?”
A flicker of annoyance vanished, and Yelendi’s business smile appeared. “Our pleasure, Captain. A night out or a business call?”
“A bit of both. I have a briefing to attend tomorrow, so I came down early.” Drawing out a chair, he settled, aware of Felicity’s amused scrutiny. To Yelendi, he said, “It’s fortunate you’re here, Ms Dysson. I was going to have to look for you tomorrow.”
“I’ve a pretty full diary tomorrow, Captain, but I’m sure we can find a moment. By the way, since we’re being social, please call me Yelendi.”
“Good idea, and you’re right, Yelendi, I’m James, as you probably know.” He smiled. “I hope my people haven’t caused you any extra work.”
Yelendi hesitated, trying to figure out whether the Captain was serious or joking. “A little, but they have a job to do. I’m here to make sure they deliver the service that a ship like yours should get.” Her smile was polite and banal.
“Good, good, glad everything is going well.” He gave his attention to Felicity. “I got your latest status reports before I had to come down, Felicity. If there’s time tomorrow, there are a couple of things I need to check with you in it.”
Felicity feigned a sneeze to hide her amusement at the Captain’s smooth intrusion.
“I think I must have inhaled some of the seasoning,” she said, dabbing her nose with a tissue as she stifled another apparent sneeze that never quite materialised. “I rarely ever sneeze….”
Full of concern, Yelendi offered a remedy which Felicity politely refused.
Before anyone could continue, the lighting flickered and an alert signal interrupted the buzz of conversation. The signal stopped, and a voice announced over the alert system, “There has been a failure in the radiation screen. All personnel are requested to remain where they are. We are working to restore the MagScreen system. Further announcements will follow.”
“A MagScreen failure? Surely not. They have triple backup.” Yelendi glanced at the door to the central enviro park, the nearest thing to an outdoor experience on Mars. A flashing red light warned it was now locked.
“Must be serious,” James Heron remarked, signalling the android waiter. “Hopefully we can still eat. I see you ladies have ordered your main course. What would you recommend?”
His calm presence steadied several nearby patrons, and seemed to steady Ms Dysson as well. Felicity watched as James very deliberately studied the menu, discussed several of the choices with the android, then ordered his first choice as if everything were perfectly normal. Leaning back in his chair, he toyed with his glass. “Let’s hope they sort out the MagScreen soon. Inconvenient losing that, as it’ll mean having to use EVA suits inside the domes if they can’t restore it. We should be fine in these below-surface levels, though.” He smiled. “There’s more than enough rock, metal and Plascrete to shield us from any radiation exposure.”
Yelendi changed the subject. “Bad business on the dock earlier. An attack on Theresa Hollister….” She was hoping to discover what her companions knew, and it never occurred to her that James could read her better than she could read him.
“Yes, nasty business. They apparently got into her suite. Seems to have been an organised group—apparently after the plans she was holding for our high penetration scanner.”
“Did they succeed?” The question escaped her before she could check herself.
James Heron smiled. “I don’t know. Security are being very tight lipped about it all.” He paused as the waiter placed his meal before him. “I expect I shall be told in due course.” Indicating the meals now in front of them, he added, “Shall we eat?”
Felicity struggled to repress a grin as she watched this exchange. Yelendi had met her match and then some. “I’m starving,” she said. “Missed lunch today with all this rushing around, and then the excitement just before my shuttle left the dock. I think ours was the last to leave before it was closed to departures.”
“Lucky,” James Heron said, tucking into a succulent cultured steak. “This is really good. They must have access to a superb beef culture here.” He glanced at Yelendi’s meal. “Is that as good as it looks? You ladies have obviously been keeping the secret of the food here. Now I know why you’re always on planetside duty, Yelendi.”
Ms Dysson hesitated. “What? Oh!” She laughed. “I hate to disappoint you, but this is
not my usual fare either—I usually have to eat on the job.”
Watching the Captain as he played the unflappable Commander, Felicity wondered how much he knew. Did he know Security was watching Yelendi? Was he here for a reason other than the stated one? She chided herself for being somewhat paranoid, and pushed these thoughts aside. Joining in the conversation, she enjoyed her meal, half hoping she’d have the chance to enjoy his company in private later, and almost able to forget that the entire facility was under restricted operations, which she hoped wouldn’t hamper their plans.
Disembarking from his transport at the emergency airlock, Brown joined his waiting team. “What was the second explosion?” He began to insert himself into his EVA suit. “How many casualties?”
“The maintenance team. Two of them. Touched off a device we think was intended to take us out.”
“Hmph. That means there’ll be others as well. Send in the search droid first. Program it to search for anything monitoring heat signatures, breathing rhythms or heartbeat. These bastards are playing dirty now.” He stopped as the medics joined them. “Good, you’re suited up. We’ll retrieve your casualties for you. Stay here, and if anything else goes wrong, wait until our backup arrives. Don’t play heroes—you’re not paid for it.”
The medics exchanged glances. “Yes, sir.”
“De Ridder, Kerks, you’re with me. We can watch the droid from the airlock.” Operating the airlock, he led the way into the chamber. The programmed droid followed, and then the agents.
When they were all in, Agent de Ridder said, “The report from the launch bays, sir, is that four shuttles are away: two are Earthbound, one to the Dock, and one to the mining platform in the asteroid belt. Commander Brandeis has alerted our people at the destinations.”
Exiting the airlock, the pair of EVA-suited officers scanned the area as the droid positioned itself to do its programmed investigation. “The tech over there must have caught the worst of it. As soon as the droid is finished, we’ll see what we can do for the other one.”
Captain James Heron: First into the Fray: Prequel to Harry Heron: Into the Unknown of the Harry Heron Series Page 17
