by PP Corcoran
“I told you before, lady, I want a lawyer. I ain’t telling you nothing till I see him so you’re wasting your breath,” spat Arnjad.
The woman continued in the same gentle tone as if completely unfazed by his outburst. “As the alleged offense falls under the Defense of the Republic Act, you are not entitled to legal representation during questioning and may be held for as long as is deemed fit by the ranking military officer.” The woman stood up and walked toward the cell door where she stopped and turned to face Arnjad. Her face had lost all its gentleness. “That ranking officer would be me. Admiral Elizabeth Wilson. You have been selling gravity drives to the Alonan Empire, Mr. Harb. I have enough evidence from the computer you were trying to destroy to prove it in a court and I’d like to remind you that treason is still a capital offense. Unless, of course, there’s something you’d like to share with me that would make it worth my while speaking with the Attorney General and asking him to commute your sentence to life without parole.”
The blood drained from Arnjad’s face and Elizabeth Wilson smiled sweetly at him. “I’ll leave you alone with that thought and when I come back we’ll see if you’ve changed your mind about talking to me.”
Arnjad began to shake uncontrollably as the door closed behind Elizabeth.
#
ZURICH – EARTH – SOL SYSTEM
The imposing head offices of Zurich Lines towered over the bustling city of Zurich. It had been designed and built as an edifice for the power of one man. Seaton Anderson. Owner and chairman of the board of Zurich Lines. Seaton had inherited the struggling shipping company on his father’s death thirty-five years previously, and with singled-minded determination had built the company up till it was the largest and most lucrative shipping line in the solar system. With the advent of the gravity drive, Seaton had seized the opportunity to make his company the shipping line of choice for the expanding Terran Republic and by doing whatever needed to be done, he secured the massive government contracts that were up for the taking when the Republic began to colonize Janus. Seaton had spent a small fortune funding the war chest of influential politicians and where that didn’t work he had people who worked for him who could… shall we say… overcome obstacles. Seaton saw blackmail and payoffs as a legitimate business method and if he was to be entirely truthful with himself he got a certain amount of pleasure out of watching the faces of those more righteous-than-thou senators when he revealed to them that he knew every last one of their dark little secrets. The forming of the Commonwealth had only led to another expansion of the company as Zurich Lines shipped everything from grain to high-tech components to every star system known to man. Every system, except one. The Alonan Empire had refused to join the Commonwealth, so the government had placed strict controls on what could and what could not be exported to the Alonans.
Zurich Lines, along with every other shipping company, had complied with government regulations but last year, Seaton had received a curious message from his manager on Alona requesting that Seaton himself pay a visit to the planet. Seaton’s interest was piqued. No manager in his right mind would ever request the company chairman visit in case he found something that displeased him and Seaton had fired many a manager over the smallest infringement of what Seaton believed was best for the company. So under the cover of an inspection tour of all company general offices in the Commonwealth, Seaton left Earth in his private yacht accompanied only by his private secretary and bodyguards. After stopovers in Janus, Garunda, and Pars, Seaton eventually arrived on Alona, where a very nervous manager told Seaton of a meeting he had had with the Alonan Secretary of Trade and another unidentified Alonan who the manager believed to be a military man by the way he carried himself. The Alonans had made an astonishing proposal. If Zurich Lines was able to supply a number of working gravity drives to the Alonan Empire, then they in turn would guarantee that henceforth, all imperial contracts for the next decade would go to Zurich Lines. Seaton sat in the manager’s office as he considered the potential profit. The numbers were simply staggering and would secure Zurich Lines’ position as the largest shipping line in known space. But the consequences of being caught were also massive. The gravity drive was the single biggest advantage that the Commonwealth had over its enemies and potential rivals alike and the government wasn’t likely to look too favorably on it being supplied to the Alonans. On the other hand, Seaton had no doubt that the Empire would get the technology eventually, so why shouldn’t he be the one to benefit from supplying it? It would all have to be handled very carefully of course, but Seaton was sure he could find the right men who, for the right price, could handle the job. The manager was told to inform the Alonans that they had a deal and with that, Seaton headed back to Earth, he had some planning to do.
Now, potentially, all those carefully laid plans could be in ruins. The first the outside world knew about the raid on the Pathos yard was when another Zurich Lines ship had arrived at the yard for stripping and its captain had been ordered to return to Earth’s orbit. The first thing he did when he reached Earth was contact the home office to see what sort of mix-up had sent him to a yard under quarantine by the navy. Head office had sent a request to the legal department to contact the navy, which it had done at the start of the next business day. The reply from the navy was the reason Seaton was now sitting in the boardroom with his closest advisers. The yard was sealed by order of a federal judge under the power of the Defense of the Republic Act.
“So what do we know?” Seaton gruffly demanded from the small group of directors he had hand-picked to help him run Zurich Lines. A thin, raven-haired woman who sat directly opposite Seaton at the small, ornate conference table cleared her throat. Daya Thomas was director of Zurich Lines Business Information Department, better described as Seaton’s own intelligence chief. Since he had taken over the business from his father, Daya had been by his side and was the one person on the board, apart from Seaton, who knew the complete contents of Seaton’s private file collection, which gave him so much political and business clout.
“From what we’ve managed to put together from our sources in traffic control a navy warship the… eh…” Daya tapped on her PAD for the correct information. “The Sorcerer informed traffic control at zero four forty-five this morning that it was taking part in an unannounced naval readiness exercise and without waiting for permission entered fold space directly from orbit. At nineteen hundred hours the MV Wagonmaster approached the Pathos yard where it was due to be decommissioned. As it reached the yard’s outer marker, it was warned off by the Sorcerer who informed it the yard was under naval control by order of a federal warrant. I’ve put out feelers to our people in the federal court to find out who signed the warrant and what its purpose was but so far nothing. It looks like the FIB played this one close to their chests and then got the navy to do their dirty work for them.”
Seaton ran his hands through his thinning hair in frustration. “Have we heard anything from Harb?”
“Nothing. The navy isn’t allowing any of the yard personnel to communicate with the outside world.”
“We need to get some legal advice as to whether they can hold the personnel incommunicado and if so for how long. Get legal on the case right away.”
“If I may make a suggestion, Seaton?”
With a wave of his hand, Seaton gave his permission.
“Since the navy carried out the raid on behalf of the FIB, then surely their actions fall under the purview of the Armed Services Oversight Committee which, as you know, is chaired by Senator Dikul, who I believe may owe us a few favors.”
Seaton sat for a moment, thinking over Daya’s suggestion. He needed to know how much Harb had told the navy about the secret movement of ships to Alona and to what extent Harb had implicated the company and Seaton himself.
“OK Daya, let’s make the senator aware of our interest. The rest of you, business as usual until we know more. Thank you.”
Daya made to leave with the others but a gesture from Se
aton kept her in her seat. As the door closed behind them, Seaton ensured the electromagnetic door seal was in place before he spoke.
“How much does Harb actually know?”
“Enough,” answered Daya without hesitation.
Seaton tapped his index finger on the polished table. He refused to let one man bring down the company he had spent the majority of his adult life building. “Harb will need to be neutralized.”
Daya’s face was as impassive as stone. “Agreed. And the men who crewed the ships to Alona?”
“Can they be traced back to us?”
“Captain Thackery was the only one who had any direct contact with either Harb or myself. The crew members were recruited by Thackery so they have no direct link to us.”
“Thackery will need to be neutralized then.”
Daya stood to leave. “I’ll make a call. It’ll be done by the end of the day.”
#
Over the years he’d had so many names that if he was truthful, he actually had to think about what his real name was. The man of medium height, medium build, middle age, and mediocre clothing lay on the flat roof of the apartment block and watched the street below through the lens of his sneaker glasses. He had been on the roof for four hours now and still there was no sign of his target. The target’s house had a short driveway leading up to it from the main road and a parking area outside the front entrance to the house. The roof of the apartment block provided a great vantage point over the street and the parking area. The sneaker let out a small beep as it detected movement on the driveway. Sure enough, a ground car was pulling up at the front door of the house. The driver’s door opened and the sneaker zoomed in on the driver’s face. Target identified. Even after all those hours of lying still, the man rolled over with practiced ease and the sniper rifle came up onto his shoulder as his eye went to the telescopic sight and his finger brushed lightly on the trigger. He continued the roll and was on his feet and dismantling the rifle as he headed for the stairs.
Jake Thackery never felt the single flechette round that penetrated the back of his skull before exploding out of his face.
The FIB team that had been waiting in the street to arrest Thackery was already running up the driveway when they saw Thackery fall to the ground. The first agent to reach him slipped and fell in the pool of spreading blood. Cursing loudly, he activated his wrist comm and called for an ambulance, knowing that it was already too late. The thin pointed steel projectile with its vaned tail had done its job.
#
TDF SORCERER – PATHOS YARD – SOL SYSTEM
The door of the cell burst open and two armed marines were through the entranceway and pinning Arnjad against the far wall before he had the chance to fully realize what was going on. Elizabeth Wilson strode in and thrust a PAD into his face. On its display was the face of a smiling, slightly overweight man in the uniform of a merchant captain.
“Do you know this man, Arnjad?”
Arnjad attempted to muster a sneer but the pain in his arms where the marines had him pinned turned his efforts into a grimace. “I told you before lady, I ain’t telling you nothing until you grant me immunity.”
The picture on the PAD changed to show the same man lying face-down in a pool of his own blood.
“This is, sorry, was Captain Jake Thackery, late of Zurich Lines and now late of this life. He was killed by a sniper outside his home two hours ago before the FIB had the chance to arrest him.”
Arnjad’s legs began to tremble of their own accord as Elizabeth went on.
“The communications logs show that you and Thackery spoke on a regular basis and my computer forensic people tell me that someone tried to erase data from the computer core that shows that Thackery has been to Pathos at least a dozen times in the last twelve months. Now why would someone do that, I wonder?”
Arnjad’s eyes were still staring at the bloody remains of Thackery only inches from his face. The marines were no longer pinning him to the wall, his legs had gone so weak that the marines were actually holding him up.
“Now, Arnjad, I know that Thackery had been a merchant captain for Zurich Lines until a year ago when he mysteriously quit and has been unemployed since. His bank records show several large payments and he recently purchased the house that someone killed him in front of. Not bad for a man with no gainful employment. I’m betting that Thackery was getting paid to captain the merchant vessels that were delivered to your yard for decommissioning and after they arrived here you logged them in, then Thackery continued on to Alona and you made sure that the records were kept straight.” Elizabeth moved the PAD away from Arnjad’s face and looked him straight in the eye. Arnjad tried to speak but although his lips moved, no sound came out.
“It seems to me Arnjad, that someone didn’t want me talking to the late Captain Thackery. Tying up loose ends, so to speak. And you, Arnjad, are one of those loose ends. So, here’s what I’m going to do. Since you don’t want to talk to me, I’m going to transfer you to the custody of the FIB and from there you will be moved to a prison of their choosing and held in general population…”
Arnjad’s legs gave out from under him and the marines maneuvered him so he sat on the cell’s single bed.
“At some point, someone will attempt to tidy up the loose end and maybe they’ll be more cooperative.”
Arnjad’s head began moving from side to side. “You can’t do that, they’ll kill me!” Arnjad’s head came up and he looked at Elizabeth with pleading eyes. “You have to protect me!”
“And why would I do that? Unless of course there’s something you want to tell me?”
Arnjad took one more look at the picture of the blood-soaked corpse of Jake Thackery still visible on the PAD Elizabeth held in her hand and began to speak.
CHAPTER TWELVE
It’s good to Talk
23 LIBRAE – 83.7 LIGHT YEARS FROM EARTH
Bruce forced himself to relax as Rapier crawled towards the blue-green planet. He wasn’t the only one feeling apprehensive. The tactical officer looked like he was about to have a meltdown and was concentrating so hard on his readouts that Bruce couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen him blink. Bruce understood completely as his own tactical display filled with the returns of what the computer was calling forty-seven destroyer-sized ships formed up in a solid wall directly in front of Rapier. Bruce highlighted the center ship in the wall facing him and tapped a control to expand the image. The ship had a bow similar to that of some ancient oceanic vessel. The hull thickened from the bow and about a third of the way along the length of the ship, two large domes, like a lizard’s eyeballs, stuck out from the smooth surface. Each of these large domes contained a wicked-looking energy mount. As his eye traced the hull, there was a belt of smaller domes, which completely encircled the diameter of the ship. Tactical had determined these to be radar and lidar systems. Amidships were four even rows of six hatches. Missile launch silos, if he was to hazard a guess. The stern of the ship flared out and partially covered the drive system. The computer put the gross tonnage as 16,000 tons. Slightly heavier than his own Vanguard survey ships. Each of these destroyers had its fire control systems locked onto his flagship and even though he was fairly certain that individually none of them had the firepower to penetrate his battle armor, their combined fire was another thing entirely.
“Guns, let navigation know to cut our forward drive when we reach your estimate of their weapons envelope. Let’s not let someone with an itchy trigger finger get too nervous.”
“Aye-aye sir. Navigation, hold us at 3000 kilometers.”
“Understood. 3000 kilometers. Time to all stop, two minutes.”
“So far so good, Admiral,” whispered Ambassador Amber Isa from the seat beside Bruce’s command chair.
Turning to regard the petite ambassador, Bruce felt his reply catch in his throat as he looked into her brown eyes and upturned face. Stay focused, Bruce, he berated himself. “Just remind me again, Ambassador, how you managed to pe
rsuade me that approaching a planet we know has been at war with its nearest neighbor for over 100 years in a single ship, unsupported by the remainder of my flotilla, was a good idea?”
Amber’s face lit up with a cheery smile. “Well, I could say that you recognized the keen intellect behind the plan, i.e. my own. Or I could reiterate the orders from the Joint Chiefs that you were to assist me in my mission to Deres as much as practically possible. Or…” Amber’s smile seemed to widen and her eyes glinted. “You fell for my womanly wiles.”
Bruce quickly checked that none of the bridge crew had heard her last comment before he formed his best command face. “Ambassador, I can assure you that I will follow my orders to the letter but I would remind you that those orders specify that my first regard is for the safety of my command and if I get even an inkling that those ships out there present a danger to Rapier, we’re out of here and you can continue any negotiations over old-style radio.”
Amber seemed completely unfazed by Bruce’s reaction. In fact, Bruce was certain that her smile had managed to turn even more playful. “You’re no fun, Admiral.”
Before Bruce could reply, a call from navigation brought his attention back to their current situation. “All stop, Admiral. Rapier is holding 3000 kilometers from the nearest Deres vessel.”
“Thank you.” Bruce spun his whole chair to face Amber. “Well, it looks like you’re up, Ambassador. Time to see if your plan will work and if Wilder has managed to interpret the Deres language properly from the data supplied by the Nilmerg.”
