by S. H. Jucha
“That’s not a criticism, Lori,” Cecilia replied. “You’re doing a great job. I’m worried our target is here to kill again.”
“Me too,” Lori replied. She was berating herself for not changing the facial search parameters earlier.
“I understand that you might have uncovered our assassin,” Liam said to Cecilia, who strode quickly toward her office.
“Lori might have found her, and we’ve missed her, whoever she might be,” Cecilia replied. She connected her comm unit to her desk monitor and accessed the station’s security vid logs.
“Find her, Lori,” Cecilia directed, jumping out of her chair.
Lori dropped into Cecilia’s seat, engaged the latest search parameters, and ran them against the station’s vids. She began with today and searched backward in time.
“The latest application hit is the suspect entering her cabin three days ago,” Lori reported.
“Entering, not leaving?” Liam queried in confusion.
“One moment, sir,” Lori said. The parameter search forward didn’t give her a hit. She returned to the point of last contact and accessed the vid that monitored the suspect’s corridor. She rolled the recording forward until she caught a figure exiting the cabin.
“Would you look at that?” Cecilia commented in a hushed voice.
“Why disguise yourself with a black sack?” Liam asked rhetorically.
“Follow her, Lori,” Cecilia directed.
Lori used several stored vid feeds to trace the route of the black-clad figure.
“That’s why,” Cecilia said to Liam.
“She accessed maintenance,” Liam commented. “Lori, we need that ID.”
After a few moments of work, Lori said, “That’s inventive. We’ve a dead maintenance worker walking around.”
“Who reactivated the ID?” Liam requested.
“Captain Jordan,” Lori replied with disgust. “According to the logs, he was in the system three months ago.”
“Before our two murders,” Cecilia said with heat.
“So, our killer enters maintenance, where there are no security vids, removes her disguise, and exits later into a public corridor, wearing who knows what,” Liam summarized.
“And the search isn’t locating her face from this point forward,” Lori noted.
“Easy enough to hide her face without attracting undue attention,” Cecilia said.
When Liam crooked an eyebrow at Cecilia, she said, “A post-cosmetic mask. You wear it for one to five days after the work.”
“I’ve seen them. They’re common enough,” Liam said.
“That would do it,” Lori remarked. “The mask’s reflection would skew the facial image.”
Cecilia leaned against the side of her desk, Liam chose the wall, and Lori watched the two of them.
“All this effort,” Cecilia said, sweeping her hand at the monitor. “That’s a lot of careful camouflage on the part of our suspect.”
“Why did she inhabit the cabin and then abruptly abandon it? Yet, she wanted people to believe she was in residence. On top of that, she made her exit in a disguise to disappear through the maintenance tunnels. The last two times she used public corridors to take the El downside,” Liam wondered aloud.
“Could she have learned that we were searching for her?” Lori asked.
“Has anyone accessed your search log, Lori?” Cecilia asked.
A few keystrokes later, Lori reported, “No one but us, Lieutenant.”
“She’s not running downside, but she’s abandoned the cabin,” Liam mused. “Why?”
“Working toward her target?” Lori proposed.
“Then most likely her target isn’t on the JOS,” Liam replied. “That leaves the YIPS and the Belle.”
Cecilia and Liam shared alarmed expressions. The assassin had only targeted high-priority or high-profile targets. They knew that no one on the YIPS qualified.
“I’ll communicate our suspicions to Harbour and Jessie,” Liam said, and Cecilia tipped her head in acknowledgment.
-13-
Tsargit’s Reply
“Jaktook,” Birdie cried out happily, when she accepted his call from the Triton dome.
“Hello, Birdie, is the envoy available?” Jaktook asked.
“One moment,” Birdie said. She eyed the second mate, who contacted Harbour via his comm unit.
“She’s ready,” the second mate said.
“Connecting you, Jaktook,” Birdie relayed.
“I bring news, Envoy,” Jaktook said, when Harbour greeted him. “The Veklocks have returned to Rissness with word that they bring the Tsargit’s decision.”
“Did they tell you what was decided?” Harbour asked.
“We wouldn’t know, Envoy,” Jaktook replied. “The Veklocks are a proud race, and the triumvirate will wish to formally conclude negotiations.”
“I spoke to Birdie, Jaktook,” Jessie interrupted. “She says she doesn’t see the triumvirate on the monitor.”
“With regret, Advisor, the triumvirate is requesting the envoy and you join them at Rissness Station,” Jaktook replied. “I fear their desire for comfort outweighs their dedication to their responsibilities and their willingness to be respectful to you.”
Harbour offered Jessie a wry smile. She could hear Mangoth complaining about the birds now.
“We’ll get underway soon, Jaktook,” Harbour replied.
“I’ll inform the Veklocks, Envoy,” Jaktook said and ended the call.
The Belle had already emptied her slush tanks at the YIPS. Drigtik’s latest report noted that the convertor assemblies aboard the ship would soon be completed.
“Captain Bassiter,” Harbour called over her comm unit.
“Yes, Envoy,” Dingles replied.
“Recall your people, Captain. We’re sailing for Triton,” Harbour announced.
“Aye, aye, Envoy,” Dingles replied.
Harbour placed her device on the table between Jessie and her. “What do you think?” she asked him.
Jessie considered Harbour’s question. Then he said, “From everything we’ve heard from the Jatouche and the Crocians, I can’t see the Tsargit not granting our requests.”
“All of them?” Harbour queried.
“Certainly all the infrastructure projects,” Jessie replied, “but they probably won’t have satisfied our need for weapons.”
“Yet they’re anxious to have us explore the domes, and we were adamant about the need for those weapons if we did,” Harbour pointed out.
“Which means to me that there are two options available in the negotiations,” Jessie mused. “Either the triumvirate has an alternative offer to placate us, or we’ve the opportunity to make additional construction requests.”
“Then it would be better not to tell the Veklocks that we have the Loopah launchers,” Harbour suggested. “We can expect the Jatouche and the Crocians to keep our secret. They don’t have any lost love for the Veklocks or any of the Tsargit’s founding races.”
“So, Envoy, what do we want?” Jessie asked, sitting back expansively in his chair.
“Good question,” Harbour replied with a smile.
* * * *
Sika’s work assignment was the hydroponics gardens. The colony ship had revived two more of the dormant structures. Since the beginning of the ship’s resurrection under Harbour, the population had doubled from the original three thousand residents.
For Sika, the assignment was fortunate. Most of the time, she worked under a tech, who was more than twice her age. He didn’t like to talk, which suited Sika just fine. Together they tackled a new garden, scrubbed out the long banks of planting channels, opened the circulating tanks, added the nutrients, and then were joined by others.
A workforce descended on the new garden and set seedlings into the channels. Sika took directions from a resident on how to install the tiny plants. Of interest to Sika was that the operations tech that she’d worked under was nowhere to be seen. Apparently, the man didn’t l
ike the company of more than one person.
Sika spent her time in hydroponics, her cabin, and Makana’s workshop. Often Makana invited her to the cantina or a meeting of other artists. In each case, Sika demurred, telling Makana that she wasn’t ready to mingle with others.
Twice Sika passed her targets in the corridors. She didn’t need a refreshment of their faces to identify them. Makana’s decorative skins did that for her.
Several thoughts marked Sika’s first encounter. Other than her mistress, she hadn’t met two people who projected as much personal power, and the envoy’s beauty was incomparable.
However, none of those observations were important to Sika, but there was one critical item. The advisor’s body language told her that he must be her first target. If the envoy and the advisor were together, when she attacked, his primary impulse would be to protect the envoy.
When it was announced the Belle was making for Triton, which Sika had anticipated, she evaluated her secondary plan. It was rumored that the envoy and the advisor would be meeting with the Veklocks. That meant they’d be leaving the ship. There was the possibility that they would explore the domes and never return. That would be convenient for her. The question of her escape downside necessitated that she wait until the couple returned to the JOS. Her efforts to date were merely to get them and others comfortable with her present face. That would allow her to get close.
One day, when Sika left work, she headed for her cabin. Rounding a corridor’s corner, she ran into a young woman.
“Sorry,” Sika quickly apologized.
“Hello. You’re new aboard,” Sasha said, extending her hand.
“Yes,” Sika replied, shaking Sasha’s hand. “I’m Luna, a friend of Makana.”
“Oh, you’re an artist too,” Sasha replied with a bright smile.
“I’m trying to be. Makana is teaching me her art,” Sika replied. “Who are you?”
“Oh, sorry. I’m Sasha Garmenti.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sasha,” Sika said, animating her face. “I’ve got to hurry and clean up,” she added. “I’ve a meeting to attend.”
“I’ll see you another time then,” Sasha said, stepping aside.
Sasha stared after Luna until she disappeared from sight. She’d been headed to visit with a friend, but she turned around and made for Lindsey’s cabin.
“Come in, Sasha,” Lindsey said, in answer to the young empath’s powerful sending.
Sasha smiled and greeted Lindsey. The two empaths touched foreheads and let their emotions mingle.
“You’re troubled,” Lindsey said. “Sit down, and tell me what’s bothering you.”
“Have you ever met a normal who didn’t radiate emotion?” Sasha asked, sitting cross-legged on the couch across from Lindsey, who occupied her favorite chair.
Lindsey frowned, as she considered the question. “I’ve met people who exhibit tremendous calm,” she replied.
“Are you saying that you never sensed emotion from these people?” Sasha asked.
“No, I did, but their emanations were much more limited than most normals,” Lindsey replied. “Why are you asking about this?”
“I met Luna, Makana’s friend, in a corridor,” Sasha explained. “She was nice and polite, but I didn’t receive anything from her.”
“Maybe —” Lindsey started to say, but she stopped when Sasha swung her head in denial.
“Luna smiled. She said pleasant things,” Sasha complained. “There should have been something. There’s always something.”
Lindsey sent waves of calm toward Sasha. “You’re one of the strongest empaths I know,” she said. “If there was something to sense, you, of all people, would have felt it. I admit that what you’re saying in inexplicable. Did you talk to your sister? Maybe she could help?”
“I can’t,” Sasha replied.
“Why not?” Lindsey inquired.
“She’ll find out I’m afraid for her,” Sasha replied, tears forming in her eyes.
“Ah …” Lindsey said softly. “Come here, child,” and she opened her arms to Sasha.
Sasha crossed the small cabin, knelt at Lindsey’s feet, and felt the older woman’s arms enfold her.
“You’re frightened for Aurelia. That’s understandable,” Lindsey said in comforting tones.
“I hate the Tsargit,” Sasha wailed. Her animus spiked her power.
“Easy, Sasha. Control,” Lindsey counseled. She’d endured many a massive wave from Sasha and knew to keep her gates tight when the powerful young empath was upset.
“Harbour, Jessie, Aurelia, and Devon are doing what they feel is best for all of us,” Lindsey said quietly into Sasha’s thick hair. “We’re taking advantage of the Tsargit and the alliance’s enormous assets just as they are doing to us.”
“I know,” Sasha replied between snuffles, “but she could get killed. They all could.”
“All the more reason to spend time with your sister now,” Lindsey advised.
Later, when Sasha left Lindsey’s cabin, she couldn’t bring herself to seek her sister’s help with Luna. But she had another idea, and it was best executed this evening.
After evening meal, Sasha waited in the cantina, fruit juice in hand. The small table’s conversation washed over her. Her attention was focused on the front door. She had to wait more than an hour before a group of artists entered the cantina. Makana was among them.
When Makana had a drink, Sasha sidled up to her.
“Sasha,” Makana said in surprise. “I haven’t seen you here before.”
“My first time,” Sasha replied. “Fruit drink,” she added, hoisting her glass.
“I should hope so,” Makana returned.
“By the way, I met your new friend, Luna,” Sasha said offhand.
“She’s a lovely person,” Makana said. “I feel sorry for her. She’s been through some hard times.”
“Oh. What happened to her?” Sasha inquired casually.
“Luna lost her husband in a mining accident,” Makana explained. “Her savings were depleted, and she would soon be cabin sharing in an inner ring.”
“That must have been devastating for her,” Sasha said, pursuing the subject.
“It was. When I offered to train her aboard the Belle, she knocked over our meal dishes in an effort to hug me,” Makana recalled.
“Wow … what an emotionally powerful moment,” Sasha said, commiserating with Makana.
Sasha continued to chat with Makana until she finished her drink. Then she left. The conversation with Makana had disturbed her more than it answered her questions. She wanted to believe it was a trivial matter, but her empathetic power was central to her persona. It bothered her that she’d failed to detect Luna’s emotional states, and she worried there might be something amiss with her capabilities.
* * * *
Drigtik reclined on a pallet in Harbour and Jessie’s salon, a fruit drink in his hand. “Yes, Envoy, we’ve completed every assembly,” he assured her.
“We’re two days out from Triton,” Jessie commented. “Will you be returning?”
“Regrettably, yes,” Drigtik said, eyeing his glass. “Our work on the intravertors is done. It remains to be seen whether the Tsargit or we will build the launch platform.”
“Whichever way it works out, Drigtik, all of us are grateful for you and your team’s generous help,” Harbour said, sending her appreciation to the Jatouche, whose eyes fluttered from the effect.
“It’s you and your explorers, Envoy, who’ve been generous to the Jatouche,” Drigtik noted, sitting up. “Your efforts have raised our citizens in the Tsargit’s eyes, as no single event ever could.”
“Then we’ve been of service to each other,” Harbour replied with a smile.
“And you’ll risk your lives again,” Drigtik said solemnly.
“It’s a good deal,” Jessie said. “A few of us can make a great difference for all of Pyre.”
“It’s the Tsargit who will benefit the most,”
Drigtik said with a snarl. “By using you, who must violate alliance protocols to survive, the Tsargit maintains their lofty moral posture.”
“Both sides are getting what they want, Drigtik,” Harbour allowed.
Two days later, the Belle’s shuttle landed on Triton.
Jessie, Harbour, Tracy, and the Jatouche bounced across Triton’s surface in their vac suits. They cycled through the dome’s airlock, and the Jatouche said their goodbyes before journeying to Rissness.
Aurelia and Devon joined the others below, where the Loopah launchers were stored.
“The exploration team will be the five of us, our Crocians, and Jaktook,” Harbour said.
Aurelia hugged Tracy. Then she queried, “Jaktook?”
“According to Harbour and Tracy, it will be necessary to take Jaktook with us to keep faith with the Jatouche,” Jessie explained.
“Then you expect the Tsargit to accede to our requests?” Devon asked.
“Those and more,” Jessie replied, grinning at Harbour.
Tracy hefted a launcher, and Devon touched its tube. “I’ll need to teach you to use these,” he said.
“How dangerous are they?” Tracy asked.
“To the Colony members, they’ll be deadly,” Devon replied.
“Perfect,” Tracy said. Her smile lacked any warmth, and it chilled the others.
“I need everyone’s comm unit, except for Harbour’s,” Jessie directed. He touched his to each device and tapped an icon. “I’m transferring star charts with an application that will allow you to orient yourself. If we get separated, these charts might help you navigate your way to alliance space.”
“Are we leaving alliance territory the way we arrived?” Aurelia asked.
“Yes,” Harbour replied. “The others on our team can direct us to that race. I never did learn their name.”
“What’s the plan?” Devon asked.
“We journey toward beta dome,” Jessie explained. “Then we branch out and investigate the connecting domes. We backtrack and check the statuses of other domes via the connecting gates. We document what we find and present the Tsargit with our analysis.”
“You make it sound simple,” Devon commented, “but I know it won’t be.”
