by Dan Moren
Kovalic exchanged a glance with Nat. Concussion, for sure. “Yeah, we had a merry little chase.”
Recognition flooded into the other man’s eyes. “Right, right…” A smile crossed his face. “Almost made it, too.” Tak rubbed his head, wincing as he found the tender spot where it had hit the pavement.
“Almost only counts in horseshoes and thermonuclear weapons,” said Kovalic. “That was a neat trick with the auto-winch harness, by the way.” They’d found it under Tak’s jacket when they’d loaded him into the car. That was how he’d made it down to the plaza; clipped to the edge as he’d fallen, it had let him make a controlled descent. Preferable to relying on the kindness of drone operators.
“Hey, you never know when you might need to make a quick escape.”
“We had a meet yesterday, Tak. When you didn’t show up, I took it kind of personal.”
“Did we?” said Tak, trying to look both innocent and puzzled, and not really nailing either.
“Then, when I came to check on you – out of the goodness of my heart! – you did a runner.”
“Needed the exercise.”
Kovalic raised his sleeve and flicked up a holoscreen, pointed at Takashi. “So I started wondering: what’s he got to be afraid of? My partner,” he nodded to Nat, “ran a facial recognition scan on the local security grid, and imagine my surprise when we found this. Why… that’s you, isn’t it? Talking to that woman?”
Color drained from Tak’s face and even the purple in his hair seemed to lose some of its luster. “That’s, uh, my sister.”
“Uh huh. Well, bad news for you, Tak: your ‘sister’ happens to be on a list of known Illyrican assets on Haran.”
“I can explain! You, uh, hired me to dig up dirt on the Illyricans, right? Well, who better to pump for information on them than themselves?”
Kovalic glanced at Nat. “You know, it’s such a dumb idea that it’s almost smart.”
She made a face. “I think you’re giving him too much credit.”
“I usually do.” He turned back to Tak. “Alternatively, and this is my personal theory: you’re working both sides of the fence.”
Takashi squeezed out a hoarse laugh. “C’mon, Conrad. Would I do that? Do I look like an idiot?”
“You’re cuffed to a chair, so, yes, you kind of do.” Kovalic leaned back. “We paid you a lot of money, Tak, and we’re going to need to recoup our investment.”
“Uhhhhhh…” Tak’s eyes darted around the room, and this time it wasn’t all from the concussion. But with Nat between him and the window and Kovalic in front of him, well, his options were limited. “I’m not really liquid right now, but if you come back next week, I’m sure we can work something out.”
“I get it. You’ve got debts. Working us and the Illyricans against each other seemed like it was all upside. But your next mistake was that you didn’t use that money to pay off those debts. Seems there are more than a few folks who were willing to pay handsomely for your location. Really, it’s a win-win. For us, anyway.” Looking at his sleeve, Kovalic nodded. “They should be here any minute now.”
Tak’s throat bobbed. “What? You can’t do this!”
“It’s done. Really, it’s just a question of who gets here first. There’s going to be quite a line.”
“Come on, man! This isn’t cool!”
“No, what’s not cool is taking our money and running. Literally running.”
From the hall came the sound of raised voices. Even muffled by the door, it wasn’t hard to make out an irate one bellowing “Where is he?”
The color had drained from Tak’s face. “Look, you can’t turn me over to them. You know what they’ll do?”
“They won’t be buying you lunch, that’s for sure.”
Tak’s eyes jumped between the door and Kovalic, who maintained an air of studied indifference. “You gotta get me out of here.”
“And why would I do that?”
“I… I know stuff! That’s why you hired me, right?”
“You betrayed that trust when you started talking to the Illyricans.”
Scrambling backwards, Tak jerked against the plasticuff that attached his wrist to the chair. He rattled it and gave Kovalic a plaintive look. “I’ve got valuable intel, man!”
“Oh?” said Kovalic, looking up from an inspection of his fingernails.
Somebody pounded on the door. “Open up! We know he’s in there!”
“Get rid of them!” said Tak. “And I’ll tell you everything the crims wanted to know.”
Kovalic tried not to roll his eyes at the slang. Illyrican intelligence officers didn’t even wear crimson uniforms while they were in the field. “That’s one option. But you’re operating from a deficit here. Tell me first, and you have my word that whoever is on the other side of that door won’t hurt you.”
A bead of sweat dripped down Tak’s forehead. He glanced at Nat, standing behind him with all the interest of someone watching a particularly dry chemistry lecture, then back to Kovalic.
“OK! OK!” Tak looked around, as though someone might be listening in. “So there was this black market auction. Priceless antiquities, works of art, that kind of thing.”
“Art theft is kind of outside our jurisdiction,” said Nat. “Why should we care?”
“I’m getting there!” said Tak. “Look, this is a little bit stressful what with the pounding on the door and the fearing for my life.”
Kovalic gave an “ah” then nodded. “Fair enough. One sec.” He went to the door and, over a squeak from Tak, opened it. “Sergeant, would you mind keeping it down? We’re trying to have a conversation in here.”
Tapper peered over Kovalic’s shoulder, a faux contrite expression on his face. “Oh, sure thing, boss. Sorry about that. Didn’t realize you were in the middle of something.”
With that, Kovalic closed the door and sat back down opposite a confused-looking Takashi. “Now, where were we?”
Tak looked at the door, then back at Kovalic, then at the door again as his slightly addled brain processed everything. “You… fucking asshole.”
Kovalic snapped his fingers in the other man’s face. “Focus. Why do we care about the auction?”
But Tak’s expression had turned stubborn. “Why should I tell you anything?”
Kovalic glanced at Nat. “Should we tell him? I think we should tell him.”
“Oh, allow me,” she said with a too-wide smile. Raising her sleeve, she touched a few controls and a holoscreen popped open in front of Tak, perfectly framing him in his conversation with Kovalic. “If you don’t tell us, I’m going to send an anonymous tip to the Imperial Intelligence Service that one of their assets is feeding information back to the Commonwealth. Something tells me they’re not going to be as forgiving about it as we are.”
“OK, OK! Look, all I know is the Illyricans wanted info on where the auction was taking place, and on one specific lot. Number 2187.”
“What is it?”
Tak’s shoulders went up to his ears. “No idea! I told them what I knew, which was that the auction’s at the Citadel Hotel on Tseng-Tao’s Divide, two days from now. Oh, and I overheard them using a name…” His eyes flicked back and forth as he searched his memory. “Arcade? No, Arkady. I think. I don’t know who that is.”
An auction? On a third-rate moon? Running a hand through his hair, Kovalic shook his head. “We came all the way here for this?” He pushed himself up out of the chair. Fatigue swept over him and he was starting to feel all the aches and bruises he’d racked up during the chase.
Kovalic nodded at Nat to join him in the hallway and sent Tapper in to keep an eye on Tak. Just in case he tried to make a break for it, chair and all.
“What a clusterfuck,” sighed Kovalic, prodding his side again. “We should have had someone at the station.”
“We’ve only got so many bodies,” said Nat. “There was no way to know he’d run.”
Maybe not. But Kovalic should have expected it anyway.
That was his job: to foresee all the possibilities and plan accordingly. As with everything else on the team, the buck stopped with him.
“This job should have been a cakewalk. But everybody’s wearing thin. They have been since Bayern.” Kovalic swallowed the lump that rose in his throat. That was on him. His decision. “Brody’s temperamental. Tapper’s head isn’t in the game. Even I feel like I’ve lost a step. We’re barely firing on one cylinder, much less all of them.”
“Maybe we just need a break. We’ve been going flat out for the last three months. We’re not the only unit in the Commonwealth – somebody else can carry the load for a little while.” She shrugged. “Just a recommendation from your XO.”
A break. So he could go home to his empty apartment and twiddle his thumbs while the Illyricans got on with whatever they were doing? “You heard Tak’s intel. Does this sound like a good time to take a vacation?”
“Yeah, I heard it. I just don’t get it. The Imperium’s buying up art all of a sudden? Three months ago, they were teetering on the edge of financial ruin.”
“We both know the Illyricans don’t make a cup of coffee without an upside. If they’re spending time and resources, they have a reason.” The idea of leaving a job unfinished rankled like an ill-fitting suit.
“What about that name?” said Nat. “Arkady. You ever heard it before?”
“Doesn’t ring any bells,” said Kovalic. “But I know who to ask.”
CHAPTER 2
“Ducks? Really?”
Leaning on his cane, General Hasan al-Adaj looked up at Kovalic from beneath the brim of a gray herringbone flat cap. The skin around his eyes wrinkled in the approximation of a kindly grandfather. “Ducks, Simon. Don’t look so surprised.”
A pond stretched out before them, bordered with thin reeds. Sure enough, a few ducks were gliding about, trading conversational quacks. The general pulled a handful of breadcrumbs out of a bag and tossed them into the water.
“There were swans, you know,” he said. “At the Imperial Palace on Illyrica. White and black. Nasty, vile, ill-tempered creatures, swans. As if the world needed another reminder that beauty is ever an illusion.”
Kovalic shifted uncomfortably. The general’s past, as the former director of the Imperial Intelligence Service and close confidant and advisor to Emperor Alaric himself, had always been a source of discomfort, and that had only gotten more awkward in the last three months. Ever since Bayern, when Kovalic’s team member, Aaron Page, had suggested the general was still pursuing an ulterior agenda – something codenamed LOOKING GLASS. But Page had also been funneling intel back to Aidan Kester, a deputy director of the Commonwealth Intelligence Directorate, which kind of undercut any accusation of treachery.
Kovalic hadn’t told anybody the whole story about Page. Not Nat, not Tapper, and definitely not the general. The way he saw it, after six years of working together, the general had more than earned his trust. But Page’s allegation still stuck with him, a piece of gristle between the teeth. He just hadn’t decided what to do about it.
All Kovalic had told his team was that Page wasn’t coming back. It was vague and unsatisfying, he knew that, but he couldn’t bear to tell them the same lie he’d put in his after-action report, that Page had been killed in a random hovercar accident at the conclusion of the Bayern mission.
Telling them the truth would, in the long run, be even worse for everybody.
He knew what his vague story would sound like to the team, the conclusions they’d draw. But it was better for them to not know all the details. Safer. Kovalic could carry the load of their scrutiny, pack it away into cold-storage somewhere deep in his mind. Making the hard choices was a commanding officer’s job – so was living with them. He rubbed a knot of muscle in his neck.
“Not that I don’t enjoy our little discussions on the relative merits of waterfowl…” Kovalic began.
The general chuckled, returning the crumpled bag to his jacket pocket. “I read your report on the Haran operation, and I believe Mr Takashi’s intel has merit.”
“Really? An auction for art and antiquities? Seems like a waste of time.”
“I might have thought so too. Until I saw the name Arkady.”
“You know them?”
“It’s not a person: ARKADY was the codename for one of the emperor’s personal projects. I’d thought it long since defunct, but it appears I was… mistaken.”
Kovalic’s eyebrows went up. It wasn’t every day that his boss copped to an error. “Care to fill me in?”
The general waved him to a bench nearby. “In his younger days, Alaric was obsessed with a particular object that he thought might be the key to conquering Earth. He had a collection of experts, scholars, and agents all searching for it. Every time there was a report that it had surfaced, he’d dispatch a team.”
“And?”
The general ground the tip of his cane into the dirt. “He never found it. The team would arrive and it would be gone, usually not to be seen again for years.”
“That’s a lot of time and energy to spend on a single object. Was he looking for the Ark of the Covenant or something?”
“No. The Aleph Tablet.”
Kovalic rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. Pull the other one. I thought everybody had agreed that the tablet was a hoax.”
“It’s never been conclusively proved one way or the other. Alaric was certainly convinced it was real. But as I said, we never found it.” The general raised his hands, palms up. “It’s an open question.”
“I just don’t buy it.”
“Good. I value your skepticism.”
Kovalic could hear the other shoe falling with terminal velocity. “But you’re still sending us after it.”
“It’s a matter of strategic practicalities, Simon. There are a lot of people convinced that the tablet is real.”
“What do you think?”
“I believe that there’s something behind all the stories. Whether or not it truly is what it’s purported to be, well, that’s another question entirely.”
“You mean the whole story about it unlocking some ancient alien race’s advanced technology?” Kovalic waggled his fingers. “Death rays and instant terraforming technology?”
“No need to be snarky, Simon. Strategy is as much about perception as it is about action.”
“You’re saying it’s important because other people think it has value.”
“Precisely. It’s a bit like the stock market.”
Kovalic pinched the bridge of his nose. “If we never have to deal with another financial institution it’ll be too soon.”
“I know that the conclusion of the Bayern job was not entirely satisfactory to you, but from a big picture perspective, it went about as well as could be hoped.”
“Not entirely satisfactory” was putting it lightly, but they’d stopped the Imperium’s plan, and that was what mattered. “What do you hear from your little birdies these days?”
Any twinkle in the general’s eyes faded. “Less than I’d like. We know from public reports that the deal we made with Colonel Frayn has been upheld: Crown Prince Hadrian has taken a step back, letting his siblings assume a larger role in the Imperium’s administration as the emperor remains in ill health. Overall, it’s been relatively quiet. Even CARDINAL hasn’t had much to offer.”
CARDINAL. The general’s most highly-placed source, whose identity was still shrouded in secrecy, even from Kovalic. The general had been clear that he didn’t want to jeopardize his source, so the fewer people who even knew of CARDINAL’s existence, the better. The idea of getting intelligence from an unvetted source made Kovalic’s stomach churn, but there was no disputing that CARDINAL’s information had been critical to the success of the Bayern operation.
“I take it that means we’re also no closer to discovering who’s sitting behind your old desk at IIS?”
The general frowned. “I’m afraid not. I have continued to eliminate suspects, but whoever they are, they
’re doing an excellent job of shielding their identity. Everything we don’t know about them only makes them a more dangerous adversary.”
More good news. “Well, the good news is that worrying about it is your job.”
“Indeed. As for you, I’m giving the SPT the greenlight to head to Tseng-Tao’s Divide.”
Kovalic hesitated, Nat’s words about lightening the load still lodged in the back of his brain. “I have some… operational concerns.”
“Oh?”
“We’re shorthanded and it’s taking a toll on the rest of the team. In other circumstances, I might advise we stand down the SPT for a couple weeks, give everybody a chance to recharge their batteries.”
“Ah,” said the general. “That does complicate matters. Since we’ve learned that Deputy Director Kester is overly interested in our activities, I would rather not turn something this sensitive over to CID. And while there are other assets I could dispatch, none would be as qualified as your team for this kind of mission.”
Kovalic straightened. “Of course, sir. We’ll make it work.”
Gnarled knuckles gripped the cane’s pommel. “I haven’t thus far pushed you to replace Lieutenant Page; I realize the wound is still fresh. But if it’s affecting operational efficiency, then it’s time. I’m sure Colonel Benton at the School has a number of possible candidates. But make it quick. We’re on the clock here.”
“Yes, sir.”
“As always, I trust your judgment. Major.”
Kovalic’s jaw tightened at the rank. He hadn’t asked for his recent promotion, much less expected it in the general’s little off-books unit, but the general had somehow finagled it after the Bayern job. This job wasn’t about recognition; if they managed to avoid open war with the Imperium, well, that was all the success he needed.
“Sir.” Kovalic turned to walk away.
“Simon…” He rarely saw the general unsure, but there was a catch in the older man’s voice. “If there is even the slightest chance that the tablet is real…we’ve got to get it before the Imperium does. We can’t let them have it.”
“Understood, sir.”
