by Henry Vogel
“Are you hoping to identify people who can open that door?”
“You got it in one, babe.” I squeezed her leg. “Plus, a beauty like you will stand out like a sore thumb among the vagrants.”
“Oh, I can take care of that problem with some makeup and the right clothes.” Michelle bit her lip again. This was turning into quite the day for problems. “But do you know what will happen when we don’t show up for work tomorrow? It’s bad enough we have Nancy and Cummings looking for us. If the whole station is alerted, an already tough mission will become nearly impossible.”
That hadn’t occurred to me, but I had no immediate answer. I sighed, “We can think on it after we get to our new place.” I showed her the station map. “I found four empty apartments in this sector. We’re taking the one at the end of the hall. I blocked it in the database, so housing won’t assign anyone to it, and coded the door to open only for us.”
“I’ll bet that’s how that door in spaceship maintenance is secured—coded to specific people instead of clearance levels.”
I nodded. “That makes it all the more important to keep the ID plot running—so we can find out who those people are.”
Half an hour later, we entered our new home.
Two minutes after that, Michelle and I finished moving into our new apartment. Most of that time went to setting up my pad, then I tossed my clothes onto a nearby chair. I turned to find Michelle glaring at me, arms crossed, hips canted, and one foot tapping. There must be some kind of special training class for women where that is taught because every woman I know—from Mom to Aunt Tess to teachers to Michelle—has that look down pat.
“What?”
She pointed to an open drawer. Her clothes were neatly arranged within, leaving plenty of space for mine.
I stuffed my clothes into the drawer. “I, um, wanted to make sure my clothes were within easy reach in case of an emergency?”
“A likely story.” But Michelle smiled as she said that. Then she flopped back onto the bed. “I know we need to figure out what to do next, but my mind is spinning too fast to think properly.”
“I know what you mean.” I flopped down next to her. “What can a husband and wife do that’s relaxing and doesn’t take conscious thought?”
“Gee, Matt, I don’t know. Do you have something in mind?”
“I do, but we’re both horribly overdressed for it.”
Laughing, Michelle straddled me and pulled off her shirt. “Does that help?”
“It’s a start.” I pulled her down and kissed her.
Later, Michelle lay next to me, idly running her hands through my hair. “I guess it’s time to start thinking about what to do next.”
“My mind is awhirl with possibilities.” I pulled Michelle into another kiss. “But none of them involve getting dressed.”
Much later, we got dressed and settled down to plan our next move.
“I think I know what we need to do, Matt. Or, at least what to consider first.”
“We just sat down and you already have an idea? Don’t tell me you were thinking the whole time.”
“Did I look like I was thinking? Did I bite my lip even once?”
“You nibbled on my lips, among other things, but I see your point. So, what’s your idea?”
“We need to arrange for a leave of absence from work and then make it look like we left the station.”
“Why can’t we just make it look like we left the station? I’m sure the company has had people skip out on their jobs before. Our bosses will be irritated, but that’s about it.”
“No, our bosses will follow the absent-employee checklist.” At my blank look, Michelle shook her head. “It’s a good thing I got a job in real security where they go over these things. First, the manager tries to comm the employee. If they don’t answer, the manager should immediately request a sensor sweep of the station, looking for the employee’s ID chip.”
“Isn’t that a bit hasty? What if the employee just forgot his comm?”
“It’s a safety precaution. The employee might be hurt, in which case they can send help.”
“Okay. It’ll take a while, but I can set the system to overlook our ID chips. Then they’ll actually believe we left the station.”
“Which is worse. The station could just have a disgruntled employee running out on the job or they could have a saboteur on their hands. Security can’t know which, so the whole station is locked down while Security uses ID chip data to track every move the potential saboteur made during the previous week.”
“Oh. Yeah, that would be bad. So, what do we do?”
“We find someone who knows us, has at least some level of authority, and then we tell them the truth.”
“That narrows the list down to Nora in HR, your manager—Tanya, right?” Michelle nodded. “Or Greg, my manager.”
“Tanya is out. I have no doubt she’s honest, but she’s strictly by-the-book. If we told her, she’d insist on taking the story all the way up the chain of command. What about Greg?”
“He seems pretty easy-going, the kind of manager who leaves you to do your job.”
“Can you trust him?”
“Maybe. Let’s see what we can find in his HR file.”
Thirty minutes later, Michelle and I agreed we could trust Greg. He’d been with GenCo for over thirty years, coming to Pegasus Station after his wife died. He had a clean record and his subordinates thought highly of him.
“It’s just surface stuff, Matt, but Daddy taught me to pay attention to it. Criminals can hide their true nature for a while, but not for more than thirty years.” Michelle stood up and stretched her back. “Next time we steal an apartment, let’s pick one with newer chairs.”
Stretching was well, I pulled out my comm. “Agreed.”
Greg answered on the second buzz. From the noise, he was still at the Wingspan.
“Hey, Matt. I thought you were spending the evening with that pretty wife of yours. You’re not bored with married life already, are you?”
“God no, Greg, but I do have a problem I need to talk to you about.”
“Sure. You want to come down here to the bar or you want to meet somewhere else?”
“Does Dawn have a private room we can use?”
That seemed to catch Greg by surprise. “Yeah, I think so. Meet me here and, if it’s not available, we can go somewhere else.”
Michelle stuck her head next to mine and Greg brightened up. “Hi Greg, I’m Michelle. I know this is going to sound weird, but is Captain Cummings down there? Or any of his officers?”
Greg knitted his brows. “Does Cummings have something to do with all this secrecy?”
Michelle nodded. “Everywhere I go, I seem to run into one of them.”
“I see.” Greg looked around the bar. “I don’t see any of them. You and Matt hurry on down here and we’ll get this whole thing sorted out.”
I thumbed off the comm unit. “That was a good idea, asking about Cummings. It never crossed my mind.”
Michelle patted my cheek. “It’s a good thing you have me to think of these things for you.”
Michelle tossed my overalls to me. They weren’t much of a disguise—especially after our run-in with Nancy—but they disguised Michelle better than anything else we had. Twenty uneventful minutes later, we walked into the Wingspan Bar and Grill.
No one gave us a second glance. We disappeared into the background so well, I had to tap Dawn’s shoulder to catch her attention.
She gave me a cartoon-like double take. Keeping her voice low, she said, “Good to see you again, Matt, and to meet your wife. Come on, I’ll take you to Greg.”
Dawn led us down the hall past the restrooms and opened a door. Inside was a small office piled with paperwork and barely big enough for the four of us.
“Greg, there’s a buzzer right over there.” Dawn pointed to a switch. “It sends a signal to the bar. Push it and I’ll come back and see what you need.”
Dawn bustled
away and Greg shut the door to the office. With a sigh of relief, Michelle removed her hat and let her hair tumble free.
“Matt, your pictures don’t do justice to this young lady.” Greg sat down behind the desk and leaned forward. “So, what’s this about? And don’t say it’s about Cummings stalking Michelle. There may be some truth in that claim, but she’d be reporting this to her superiors if that was the real issue.”
“You’re right, Greg. Cummings is part of it—and he’s the main reason we came to you—but he’s just part of the problem.” I paused for a moment and looked at Michelle. “What should I tell him?”
Greg spoke before Michelle could say anything. “Tell me the truth. And if you don’t know where to begin, start by telling me where you got your false ID cards.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
New Allies
Greg’s statement hung in the air for a few seconds. Michelle and I, stunned at this revelation, exchanged glances.
Turning back to Greg, she asked, “How did you know they were fakes?”
If there wasn’t a desk between them, I could imagine Greg patting Michelle’s head. His patronizing smile was more than enough. “Child, I’ve been doing this sort of thing since long before you were born. Your IDs are good—the best I’ve seen—but false IDs are designed to get people through casual checkpoints. They cannot withstand the level detailed scrutiny I gave them.”
I leaned forward and locked eyes with Greg. “If you knew the IDs were false, why didn’t you just turn us in? And what made you check them in the first place?”
“I check the IDs of every new hire in CompSec. A person can do a lot of damage from the inside of my department. When your ID came up false, I checked Michelle’s, too.” Greg leaned back, keeping his eyes locked on mine. “I didn’t turn you in because Nora—the woman who ran your orientation—likes you. She is an excellent judge of character.”
Michelle put her hands to her head and looked at the ceiling. “Is there anyone on this station who doesn’t know we’ve got false IDs?”
“I didn’t tell Nora about your IDs. Since she spoke with you about personal matters, I just asked her opinion of you two. Did she feel you really loved each other? Was Matt just looking for a way to sleep with such a pretty girl? Was Michelle trading on her looks to get in with someone in CompSec?” Greg laughed at our expressions. “The best security person is one capable of imagining the worst in people.”
“And Nora reassured you?” I asked.
“Somewhat. She believes you’re a young couple in love. She caught something of a fugitive air about you, but in a benign way. I picked it up, too, and we talked about it. Our best guess is that Michelle’s family is wealthy, Matt’s isn’t, and Michelle’s parents are trying to keep the two of you apart.”
Michelle and I couldn’t help it—we burst out laughing.
Greg shrugged. “It’s a bit romantic, but old folks like Nora and me like to see a little romance in the world. I guess we were wrong.”
“Not entirely, Greg,” I gasped out through laughter. I fought to stop laughing, but Michelle’s continuing giggles interfered. “I’m the wealthy one and my parents haven’t met Michelle since she was twelve.”
Greg scratched his head, confused. “You ran off before giving your parents a chance to meet the love of your life?”
“No, I ran off to give my parents a chance to meet the love of my life.”
“You’ve lost me, Matt.”
Michelle took my hand. “Matt and I came here to find and rescue his parents.”
Greg looked back and forth between the two of us. “You’re serious?”
It was the moment of truth. “Greg, are you familiar with the names Richard and Angela Connaught?”
His eyes widened. “Anyone who’s worked for GenCo as long as I have knows who they are.”
“My real name is Matthew Connaught. I’m their son.”
“Can you prove any of that, Matt? Because the news says Matthew Connaught was kidnapped.”
“That’s a cover story planted by my father.”
“And your father would be?”
“Jonas Young, the man in charge of Matt’s security detail.”
Greg looked my way. “You rate an entire security detail?”
Michelle rolled her eyes. “Oh come on, Greg. Do you have any idea what Matt’s net worth is?”
“Assuming he really is the Connaught heir, I concede your point,” Greg said. “So where do you come into all of this, Michelle? Did you meet Matt at some Bring Your Daughter to Work day or something? I mean, I’m sure the head of Matt’s security detail is well paid, but not enough to travel in the same social circles as the Connaughts.”
“Have you ever heard of the Phillips School on Draconis?” I asked.
“My wife and I lived on Draconis for nearly twenty years. She’s buried there, in fact. Yeah, I’ve heard of the school—top notch education from preschool through college. And I’m not surprised you went there, Matt, but there’s more to getting into that school than having the money to pay the tuition. It takes connections of the kind well beyond even the best head of security.”
“You’re right, the Phillips School was completely out of Daddy’s reach.” Michelle took over the story. “Matt’s father got me into the school and paid my tuition.”
“That’s quite an employee benefit.” Greg sounded skeptical. “Why would he do something like that?”
“The school provides its own security staff, so bodyguards aren’t allowed in the school. Matt’s father believed someone was plotting against him and his family. He got me into the school to act as Matt’s bodyguard when he was away from his official bodyguards.”
“No offense, honey, but I’m supposed to believe a pretty little thing like you was Matt’s bodyguard in school?”
“Stop patronizing my wife, Greg.” Greg drew back at my angry retort. “Did Nora tell you about the big guy Michelle took down during orientation? Do you want me to tell you how she rescued me from a street gang just a few weeks ago?”
“Well, any doubts I had that you love this girl are gone. Only a man defending his woman gets that angry.” Greg held his hands up in mock surrender. “Michelle was your bodyguard in school. Got it.”
“Your first thought is not entirely wrong, Greg. I always carried an emergency beacon in school. Daddy trained me to set off the beacon and then get Matt into hiding while his bodyguards swarmed in from just outside the school.”
“Okay, there’s enough evidence that you know how to handle yourself in a fight that I’ll accept the bodyguard part of the story.” Now Greg turned his skeptical gaze on me. “But I’m still not convinced of your part of the story. Maybe you’re a rich kid, but Connaught rich? That’s hard to swallow.”
Who could blame him? I lived the story and found it far-fetched even to me. “On Draconis, I could call up the school on the net, show you lots of pictures, my grades, stuff like that. Out here? I have no idea. Can you think of anything that will convince you?”
“Yeah, there’s one really simple method you haven’t mentioned.” Greg steepled his fingers and looked back and forth between the two of us. “What I don’t know is whether you’re avoiding it like the plague or just haven’t thought of it.”
“Haven’t thought of what, Greg?” I threw my hands up in exasperation. “I’ve never had to prove my identity before, so tell me already.”
“He wants to do a DNA test, Matt. All corporate facilities must keep those records on file and up-to-date. As a dependent of employees, your DNA is on file.” Michelle turned to Greg. “That is your simple method, right?”
Greg nodded.
“Fine. Let’s do it and get on with rescuing my parents.”
Greg gave me a thoughtful look then stood. “HR has the equipment we need. Am I right in assuming you’re willing to trust Nora to do this?”
“I am. What do you think, Michelle?”
She nodded and the three of us filed out of the office. We took
two steps down the hall toward the bar then Dawn scurried in from the bar.
“Get back in the office!” Her fierce whisper barely rose above the crowd noise. “Cummings just walked into the bar and brought all his officers with him.”
The three of us backtracked into the little office. Dawn crowded in behind us and turned a maternal look to Michelle.
“Is Cummings stalking you like Greg said?”
Greg spoke up before Michelle could answer. “We didn’t get to that part of their story yet. Why?”
“He’s asking for these two—says he knows they came into the bar just a few minutes ago.” Dawn pointed to the coveralls. “Those things hid you pretty well, but it won’t take Cummings long to find someone who remembers a couple of maintenance techs coming back here. He’ll put two and two together.”
“He won’t have to put anything together—he already knows about the coveralls.” Michelle ran a hand through her hair. “I’m sure Nancy told him all about it.”
“Who is Nancy?” Dawn looked perplexed.
Greg shook his head. “Worry about that later. What happens if Cummings gets his hands on you?”
I took Michelle’s hand. “He’ll smuggle us onto a ship and, if we’re lucky, throw us out an airlock.”
Greg stared at me, astonished. “Are you serious?”
“Absolutely. And if he finds out you’ve been shut up in here with us, he’ll add you to his list, Greg.”
Greg and Dawn both paled. “How is Cummings going to figure out I’ve been with you?”
“The same way he knows the two of us are here. Someone is using ID chips to track us.”
“Chip tracking is one of the most secure systems in the network. I don’t even have access to it.” Greg gave a firm shake of his head. “Matt, you keep talking about death threats and missing parents and secret identities. And now it’s Cummings cracking the ID tracking system? Son, you just sound like a crazy conspiracy theorist.”
I pointed to a pad sitting on the desk. “Dawn, is that thing hooked up to the network?”
“Of course.”
I spun the pad around and started tapping out commands. “Do you know anything about the chip tracking software, Greg?”
