by Becky Black
"Your advice is noted, Lieutenant. And rejected."
~o~
By the time the shuttle reached the surface and the hanger doors closed over their heads, the base's computer had restored life support to all areas. The landing party walked into corridors filled with air, light and heat. The base welcomed them, Bara thought. Its masters returning home.
No nasty surprises awaited the squad. In fact, of all the abandoned bases they'd explored, she rated this one as the neatest. The humans may have left quickly, but they tidied up before they did. In the galley area, a fine layer of dust covered everything, but they found no abandoned dirty plates and cups.
"My compliments to the commander here," Bara said, running a finger through the fine dust. "Good discipline. You have your assignments, spread out."
The squad split up. Some went to salvage supplies, and weapons, and anything else useful they found in the stores. Bara herself went to the control centre, with Sev and an engineering team bringing along the portable memory to store the database. This base gathered intelligence, collated it, but the intel part of the database was isolated for security. They couldn't have downloaded the data remotely; it simply had no contact with the outside. Sev set up a hard connection with the memory units and began to download.
Alex had pulled a face when Bara assigned Sev. But the freak had a gift with computers, even she would admit that. She left him to it and sat at the command workstation. She could access anything from here and her security clearance was still active. What she saw made her gasp.
"This isn't just intel," Bara said. "This is a backup station."
Backup stations were scattered through the galaxy. Dumps of records, backing up Earth's systems, safe because they were spread out. If one outpost fell, another held the same data. Once this database had received regular updates, but now it was frozen in time. The computer knew nothing of events outside. It merely waited for the humans to come back and man the station again, restart their operations.
It would wait a long time. Or perhaps it wouldn't. Perhaps they should destroy the installation once they had taken what they needed. As Bara paged through menus of information, she hated to think of the aliens getting hold of any of this data.
Incredible, a full personnel database. Every living Earth soldier. At least, all those alive when this base closed down. Billions of service records. Billions of men and women dead now.
Personnel. Bara frowned and sat forward. Now that could be interesting. One of the frustrating things about Hollow Jimmy was not knowing exactly who she was working with. She trusted her judgement about people, but to have service records and know exactly who people were, now that gave her one hell of an advantage.
She grinned. Oh, what had she been thinking earlier? Who the hell did Maiga think she was? Well perhaps now Bara could find out. Still smiling she beckoned over one of her ever-present bodyguards.
"Would you fetch me some coffee, please? I have work to do."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Thank you. Do bring some for everyone else and yourselves of course."
"Yes, ma'am." He saluted and left.
Bara settled herself in front of the console and considered. Most of what she had was assumptions. She couldn't be certain about some of them, like Maiga being a marine, or even if she used her real name. But she had to narrow things down, so she'd make the assumptions and if that got her the information all well and good. If not she'd drop them one by one.
She entered the parameters. Marine. Officer. Female. Name, age, height, eye colour, all the usual identifying stuff.
Nothing. Well, a few, but the pictures she ran through on screen were not the Maiga of Hollow Jimmy. The Maiga who'd decided to make herself a thorn in Bara's side. Okay, no active personnel. Try medically discharged. No. Nothing there matched at all.
Bara sat and bit her thumbnail. Her bodyguard put down her coffee in an insulated mug and she smiled her thanks at him.
So, not active, not medical discharge. Then let's look at the whole Marine Corps database. And there were always clerical errors, so she even included deceased. People got accidentally marked down as KIA all the time. If your pay suddenly stopped showing up, back in the old days, that usually turned out to be the problem. So they kept the recently deceased names on there for around six months before archiving them. Most people tended to notice by then.
So Bara set the search running on the frozen in time database and sat back to wait while it processed millions of records. If this didn't get it, then she'd drop the name. But she felt certain as day followed night that Maiga was a marine. She just had that look. She'd stick with that until certain she had to be wrong.
She was on to her second cup when it brought up the results. Several dozen. Could she be lucky? She tapped the panel, bringing them up one by one. The faces of dead women, most of them. Well, hell, probably all of them now. All but one, if she got lucky.
She did.
She almost passed it, but then stopped. An old picture, a woman aged no more than thirty, hair longer. But her. Maiga. Bara glanced at the file. Yes, deceased, apparently. Looked lively for a dead woman last time Bara saw her. She frowned then. The record was flagged, cross-referenced against another table. Another parameter.
Deserter.
What the hell? A deserter? Maiga was a deserter. And more records were attached, classified security records. Bara had to enter her command codes again to access them. She read them and she stared.
Impossible. This had to be impossible. Captain in the marines. Deserter. And dead, according to the records. Killed on Chiamajan , along with Ilyan and his other followers. Lover. The word screamed out of the screen at her. Ilyan's lover.
"Ma'am?" Sev said, "Are you okay?"
Her mouth was hanging open, Bara realised. Gaping at the screens. She closed it and glared at Sev.
"Get back to work!"
He shrank back and she realised she'd almost spat the words. Rage towered inside her. The Prophet's woman. And she'd sat there and claimed no more than that she'd "heard him speak."
Liar. Denier. Why deny him? She should be proud she once stood at his side, and shared his bed. She should carry on his legacy. No-one could have known him better than her. She had a duty to carry on his work. And what did she do? Courier around small cargoes and quibble over deals with aliens that the Prophet had implored them to fight against.
Deserter. A deserter from the service, yes, but she'd deserted him too. How the hell had she survived? Perhaps she was even the one who had betrayed him. Bought her own life in exchange for his.
Bara's coffee cup hurtled across the room to smash against the wall and she screamed a word after it.
"Bitch!"
Then she was sitting again, her head whirling, vision tunnelled. Oh, she saw the future now, so clear. Defy me? I don't think so.
"Captain?" Sev's voice. Leaning over her, with concern written all over his face. "Captain, you really don't look well. Let me take you back to the ship, please."
She reached up, to touch his long hair; the ponytail had fallen forward over his shoulder. So shiny and black and beautiful. Her fingers closed over a strand and she pulled until he winced.
"Knowledge is power, Sev, isn't it?"
"Ah, yes, ma'am."
"And I have that power now." She kept pulling. The only way he could keep from being nose to nose with her was to pull back and let her drag on his hair. Were the others looking? Whispering?
"Yes, ma'am," he said again, voice strained, like he was in pain.
"I will not be defied by a deserter. A fucking deserter, Sev. A deserter. She's no better than me." She smiled, patted his chest with her other hand. "Than us." That last was a whisper. He knew what she meant; she saw the understanding in his eyes. The guilt. She let Sev go and he took some rapid steps back, as she stood up.
"Let's go," she said.
"Captain, we haven't finished the download," Sev said.
"Forget it." She waved a hand and looked at the picture in
the screen. Young. Before she met him, probably. "Copy that record," she ordered. "Leave the rest. We have to get back to Hollow Jimmy right away."
She strode from the room, back towards the shuttle. She didn't need that whole database now. She had all the information, all the power she needed in that one record. A laugh broke from her.
She found something explosive down here after all.
Chapter 27
The train rocked back and forth and Jaff leaned against a partition and closed his eyes. His toolbox lay on the floor between his feet. He hated having to get on the light rail at this time of day, one of the shift changes at the factories. But it was the quickest way to get back to the maintenance depot from the section he'd been working in. The other two techs he'd been working with today chatted to each other, but Jaff drifted, bone tired. They'd spent the day in an under-floor area, too low to stand up in and full of dust, grease and dead bugs. All he wanted now was a shower and his bed.
He'd get the shower, but not the bed yet, as he'd promised to go have dinner with Chervaz. Poor guy still had trouble cutting his food. Maiga had been helping him out, but she'd flown off on a job a couple of days ago.
At the next stop a pair of factory workers, ex-Infantry going by their manners, Jaff thought, shoved their way onto the crowded train. The two men spoke in loud voices and he wished they'd shut the hell up. He didn't want a headache on top of everything else.
"It's her, I'm telling you."
"Rubbish."
"She was with him. I remember it like it was yesterday."
"You don't even remember what you did yesterday!"
"Yeah, well I wasn't drunk that night. And you don't forget hearing the Prophet speak."
Jaff opened his eyes. Tension spread through the train carriage, all of those within earshot of the men going quiet and listening.
"Maybe you'd remember him, but the rest of them?"
"I happen to have a very good memory for hot women."
His friend laughed. What the hell are they talking about? Jaff thought. Who are they talking about?
"Look," the sceptic said. "Everyone knows his whole group was killed. How can any of them be on this station?"
People openly stared at them now, hanging on their words.
"I don't know how, but it was her," the one with the good memory said, "She was at the docks, loading a ship. One of them little ones, you know. Her and this old broad. They gave me a couple of hour's work loading."
"What ship?" Jaff's own voice surprised him. Butting in to the conversation of a couple of big, muscular guys wasn't his usual habit. But he had to know, because he suddenly had a strange feeling. They couldn't mean her, surely?
"What?" The two of them looked at him, but didn't seem to resent his busting in.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, but which ship? Do you recall the name?"
"Yeah, it was, um, the Friss?"
The tension in the carriage changed. The silent crowd began muttering. Jaff stared, just stared, at the two men. Finally, he found his voice again.
"You're sure it was her? You're certain she's the one you saw with him? With the Prophet?"
"Sure as my own name, pal."
His name. Yeah, Jaff wanted that. And his age. Because you had to have the age, for the paper. Well Vaz could ask for that later.
"Could I get your contact details?" Jaff took out his Snapper.
"What, you want a date?" The worker asked and laughed, his friend joining in. "Sorry, pal, you're not my type."
"No, a friend of mine may want to talk to you." He grabbed at a pole, as the train stopped. The doors opened. The two workers and numerous other passengers stepped out into a crowd on the platform. "Wait!" Jaff shouted, as he tried to push his way out against the crush of people boarding. But the doors were closing; he couldn't get there in time. "Call me at maintenance! My name's Jaff! Call me, we have to talk!"
They waved back, dismissive waves, laughing at the crazy guy on the train. The doors closed. This damn automated train, the doors closed after eight seconds; no exceptions. Jaff considered grabbing the emergency stop lever. But, it was too late anyway, the men were gone and the train was moving.
"Jaff, you okay?" One of the other techs said. Both of them wore a mix of concern and amusement on their faces, at his eccentric behaviour, accosting men on the train.
"Yeah. Just, Chervaz is going to want to know about this."
"I'll bet! Can't be true, can it? I mean everyone knows they were all killed, his people."
"I don't know." Jaff shook his head. It couldn't be true. Maiga was a bit mysterious about her past, sure but so were many people here. All making new lives, so they didn't talk about the old ones much. But this?
"But you know Maiga, don't you? Is she still seeing Chervaz?"
Jaff nodded. Seeing him. Lying to him. Unless… His eyes widened. Unless he already knows. No. He can't do. She'd lied to him. Like so many before. Dammit, he has it across his forehead doesn't he? Lie to me. Break my heart.
"Well, this is going to spread like wildfire," she said.
Jaff nodded again. Glancing around, he saw people talking into and tapping messages into their Snappers and other communicators. They'd get off the train, they'd head to their homes, and to bars and cafes and restaurants and the whole station, well the human section, would already be buzzing with it.
The three maintenance techs finally piled off the train at the station nearest their department.
"Do me a favour, please," Jaff said. "Take the toolbox back. I have to run."
"Okay." One took the box. "You owe us a drink."
He's get that for them happily. Just not in Dav's--he'd been barred from there for life. He looked around for an electric cab. No sign, damn, all taken. Right. He ran, heading for the human sector. Even before he reached the Plaza, four people had stopped him and asked him the same question.
"Have you heard?"
Yep, right from the horse's mouth.
As he crossed the Plaza, voices hailed him from Chullan's, but he just waved and ran on, heading for the small street that held the tailor's shop. A light glowed in the window over the shop. Jaff pushed the door to the stairs and it swung open. Unlocked still. Chervaz never did learn did he?
Jaff ran up the stairs and froze at the top of them. Chervaz sat at the desk, face pale, staring at his panel, then turning to stare at Jaff. He wore the look Jaff had seen too often before. The one that said, "I thought this time it would be different."
He always did. He always thought this one wouldn't stamp all over his heart; and in some cases, empty his bank account. Well Maiga might not have done the latter, but she'd done the former. Chervaz worshipped the truth. What can I say to him? The words Jaff heard coming from his own mouth sounded hopelessly inadequate.
"You've heard."
~o~
He'd heard.
A dozen messages had come in, still more arriving. Could he confirm? People thought he'd be the one with the information. And he was, normally. He had his sources on the station; the place was full of information brokers who could dig up anything--Wixa for one. But, he'd never considered asking any of them to dig up information on Maiga. He trusted her.
Clearly, she didn't trust him in return.
Jaff walked into the room and flopped into a chair. He still wore his dirty work overalls, and his face was smudged with dirt and sweat. He was breathing hard. He'd run here.
"Oh, man, Vaz, I'm so sorry."
"We don't know for sure it's true," Chervaz said. "One man claims to know her. He could be mistaken."
"You'll have to put it under Important If True."
"Put it… You think I'm going to put this in the paper?"
Jaff sat forward frowning. "Well of course you are. This is the biggest thing to hit this station since a freighter crashed into the old docking areas a hundred years ago. We're still clearing up that mess."
"It sounds to me like it's her business, nobody else's."
"Not even
yours?"
"That's… not the issue. The point is, it's not a news story."
Jaff stared at him. "You're joking right. She was with The Prophet! She's meant to be dead! Dead woman walking around sounds like news to me. And think what she could tell us about him, things we've only heard third and fourth hand."
"If she wanted to talk about him, she would have." Chervaz stood up and walked around his office, which was bare and basic now, all the wrecked equipment and furniture gone and only some of it replaced.
"Vaz, he's a legend," Jaff said. "He changed history."
"Did he?" Chervaz looked out of the window. "He tried. But the right people didn't listen soon enough. Unless you subscribe to the view that his spreading his information actually provoked the attack."
"You know I don't," Jaff said.
"Well some people do. If Maiga was one of Ilyan's followers then she could be in danger from those people. They could look for revenge."
"Well, I guess that's true," Jaff conceded, nodding as Chervaz turned back to him. "But, look, we can argue all day about if she should have told you, told anyone. That doesn't matter. It's out now."
"If it's true." Chervaz sat at his desk again.
"If it's true, yeah." Jaff leaned back in his chair, rubbed a hand over his face, smearing the dirt and grease. "But if it is and you don't publish it, what does that make you? Everyone would assume you're not publishing because you're sleeping with her."
"I doubt everyone on the station knows I'm sleeping with her."
"Then they'll just assume you're an idiot. That you can't pick up on something everybody is talking about."
"Jaff, she stood up for the Chronicle. She protects this paper."
"And if you're true to yourself, that can't stop you publishing either. You know that."
Chervaz glanced down at this panel. More messages. One from the print shop. He opened the message. Did he want some urgent time on the printer tonight for a special edition? The print shop owner wasn't even human and he'd already heard. Standing up again, Chervaz walked to the window. Jaff followed him this time and put a hand on his shoulder, didn't speak.
"You do realise that Bara is probably behind this?" Chervaz said.
Jaff looked surprised. "I don't see how."
"She has to be."
"Shit, Vaz, I wish you'd be this cynical all the time."
