An idea struck the tall man and he contemplated releasing sleeping gas into the environment. The inhabitants would fall over where they stood and then his people, fitted with filter masks, could move among them freely in search of his prize. But how to explain such a move to the general populace after it all wore off? That was his current quandary. Was it worth it for a few hours of unhindered searching? It might be. He wasn’t sure yet. And not sure meant hold off on that plan. He would consider it again if another shift went by with no results for these kids. The tall man prided himself on knowing every nook and cranny of this ship. He had been aboard since launch. He knew places where people could hide, and he had checked them already. He had sent crews to other places that held high probability, but they had come back empty-handed. He was nearing the end of his considerable rope. He checked for the pad device. Had the boy used it? No. There was no activity in the log. If they had accessed certain information, it might have given him a clue. For now, it was just another dead end. How had the kids been so smart? They had fallen off the face of the ship and nobody knew where they had gone. If they had been in custody, he would have seen a report on them. Everything had an electronic paper trail. Nothing happened without him knowing about it. The tall man was situated at the informational hub of the entire ship. No message was sent that he couldn’t read. The total amount of information he normally enjoyed led him to this self-imposed madness for this time being unaware. This time, all of his network, all of his surveillance masters, all of his spies on the ground had come up with a flat nothing. As infuriating as it was, it meant that these two teenagers were special. They knew how to fade into the background like a shadow. That sort of commitment and ability was difficult to train. These two already knew the most basic parts of being a spy. They had somehow avoided the video systems. It seemed unreal to him that anyone could be that careful. Just touching a panel would have logged a fingerprint. All of the technology was on his side. Yet he still had nothing to go on.
He had the original housing locations of the two kids. How far could they have gotten? The mother had not reported to work. The tall man assumed that she was with them. The rest of their friends were accounted for and proper fear had been placed into them to report it if they saw the criminals. He had covered all the loose ends. Dominic’s body had already been spaced so the drug he had killed himself with could not be traced back to the tall man. The increased activity made the ship look like a bee colony to him. So much was going on. Every corner was being checked and cleaned to account for the added scrutiny. This mustn’t look like merely a manhunt. Yes, they were fugitives from justice, but how many assets could you deploy to find two kids and a parent? At some point someone would ask some critical questions. Remaining anonymous was paramount to his continued power. The puppeteer must not be seen directly. He sat back in his chair, his ire ebbing for now. He had covered all the bases, crossed all the T’s and sealed the fate of the fugitives that could identify him. Despite his angst at not having them in hand as yet, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Calmly he lit up a pipe and hummed a little tune from his childhood. Nobody else on board would have heard this song. It was a little something he shared with himself from time to time. These kids would turn up, they couldn’t remain vigilant forever.
∆ ∆ ∆
Everyone Plays Detective…
The maintenance man moved quietly along the corridor as if someone was watching him. Maybe they were. He didn’t want to take the chance. He had his toolbox with him and his Pad device. Between those two, he could get past any security measure on board. No locked door could stop him. No protocol was too complex to be foiled. He was a god walking among mere mortals as he made his way through area after area. He was heading into the secondary police station. The breech there had been a telling incident. It told him that someone had been stored here. The kids had been locked up and he had missed catching them in one place. The timing had just been poor. Worse yet, Dominic seemed to have gotten tangled up in here. His chalk outline was still fresh. There were only a couple of marks from dragging the man out to be spaced. Otherwise this place looked deserted. But it obviously wasn’t. There were footprints in the dust. Someone else had been here too. They had the police report and one officer, and one detective were involved. But the detective had managed to flee before further questioning could be accomplished. That was highly suspicious. But the maintenance man didn’t care about such things. His goal was simple, find the two kids and save his own life in the process. He knew the boy rather well by now. He had done a full background check and knew just about everything there was to know about the boy who called himself Lock. The kid had talent to be sure. His ability to analyze the situation based upon sparse or piecemeal information was impressive. That coupled with his natural curiosity had caused this search in the first place. The kid’s loyalty to his friends was also strong. An admirable trait for normal folk but a weakness in the spy game. Loyalty should only exist for the one you are spying for. Nobody else matters. They are obstacles to be avoided or overcome. Some rare ones become tools. This kid could have been one of those. The chance to use this kid to get some work done was powerful. His set of skills, though not fully developed, was already impressive. It would be a real shame if he had to kill the boy. Oh well, that call was above his paygrade. He would just have to wait and see for that one.
After all of this thinking. He finally reached the holding cells. Sure enough, the cells had been recently occupied. The floors were swept clean and even the bars had been dusted as if to clear any fingerprints. Someone had done a real number of this place. The camera in the corner of the cell looked non-functional. It was true that this was an abandoned facility so things not working were not all that surprising. But in this case, the damage looked deceiving. Wires were hanging out of the side of the camera. The little red light that would have signified its recording was not lit. But the light did glint off the lens ever so slightly.
The maintenance man pulled over his toolbox and set it under the affected camera. He stepped up onto it to reach the device and with the gentlest of touch, he gingerly unscrewed the housing and pulled the mechanism free.
“So, my little friend, what have you seen?” He asked the camera softly as he set it down on the bunk. He began to move the wires aside and check the terminals. The internal battery was still active. He got a little hope of retrieving something then. He pulled back the cover and the camera inside looked pristine. The lens was clear, and the board was warm. He plugged his monitor into the camera and tapped the tiny contacts on the board to initiate playback. The playback was in reverse, playing back from the maintenance man entering the cell to it being empty. He tapped it again and the playback speed doubled. He watched the monitor intently until people walked backwards into the cell. The maintenance man paused the video and got exactly what he had wanted to see. He saw Tina, Lock, Mrs. Hull, and that pesky detective. He copied the contents of the video chip into his portable memory device and then carefully put the camera back. He made sure to show the wires still hanging out, but he did reactivate it so that it would continue recording. Then he made his egress from the abandoned facility and headed back towards the tall man. With this new information, he hoped to move his case for life along. He had found where they had been held. They were not there now, but they at least had a starting point.
∆ ∆ ∆
The tall man looked at the monitor closely. The relevant information was displayed, and his jaw dropped. “Do we have any audio on this?” He asked.
“I’m sorry sir, but that was why the wires were hanging out. The microphone had been cut.” The maintenance man explained. “But as you can see, the fugitives were in custody here. They talked with the detective for a fairly lengthy time in another room that had no camera at all. Then he set them free and stayed behind to presumably clean up. It’s my guess that’s when he ran across Dominic.” He said, extrapolating quite a bit given the information they did have.
T
he tall man tapped his chin. “Yes, I see that you are right.” He admitted. “But they were set free… where are they now?” He asked.
The maintenance man looked nervous. “I do not yet know, but I do know many of the places one can hide from your camera network, so I will begin searching there. I only stopped to report this new information so that you knew who the accomplice was.” He said with a wry grin.
“That is good. I’ll have the detective dealt with. This particular man holds a grudge against me anyway. He’s been harmless up till now.” He said.
“Well, he’s killed one of your agents, so I imagine that his status has changed.” The maintenance man pointed out.
The tall man looked up and anger flared in his eyes. The maintenance man gulped. But the truth was still the truth. “Go find those kids. I want them in my office as soon as humanly possible.” He ordered.
“Yes sir, I’m on it right away.” The maintenance man said as he retreated hastily.
The tall man looked at the frozen image on his monitor. “So, we will have to meet again.” He said to the detective pictured there. “I warned you what would happen if I ever saw you again.” He said menacingly. Then a smile crossed his face as he imagined his horrible revenge on this man who had harbored his fugitives. It was not going to be pleasant.
Then his mind shifted back to his project. He had put so many pieces into play that he had almost forgotten. But now that he was back on track, it was about time to do something. He tapped a button on his desk and a voice crackled to life.
“Yes sir? How can I be of service?” It was the standard greeting from an automated personal assistant.
“Get me the Dark One and be discreet.” He said into the pickup.
“Right away sir!” The happy electronic voice replied. The device annoyed him, but it never asked uncomfortable questions like a real assistant would. Its mind could be wiped without any annoying complaints, and it would live almost as long as he did so he wouldn’t have to train another one anytime soon.
He closed the connection and sat back. His plan had been in the making for over three decades now. It was finally reaching the point to pull the trigger. For the tall man, this was an exciting time.
“They’ll see. They will need me more than they know.” He said to himself. Then he made a dismissive gesture and moved on, but his eyes were still burning with intent. “They’ll see.” He repeated.
∆ ∆ ∆
The Dark One was yet another agent, though one the tall man didn’t directly control. He could hire him though. His real name was Imran Palmer. He almost never went by that name though. It wasn’t cool enough for the commons. It wasn’t flashy enough for his line of work either. He was a professional hit man. An assassin one hired if you needed the very best. His list of kills was impressive. But his list of convictions was almost non-existent. Such were his skills that most targets fell to what appeared to be natural causes. He was careful, meticulous, and deadly. If someone called him, things had already progressed beyond mediation and compromise.
Imran tapped his communication device. “You called?” He asked simply on the line.
“Yes, I’ve got a problem.” The Tall man replied.
“Of course you do.” The dark one countered. “Nobody calls me unless they have a problem.” He added for clarification. The clarification had been unnecessary, but both men knew he would say it. It was a dance of language they were playing. “So, who do you need fixed?” Imran asked with unusual directness.
“Detective Marshall Faulkner” The tall man replied.
“I see, you know the rates for taking out cops.” Imran reminded. Both men knew this information too.
“I do.” The tall man replied icily. “But it must be fast. Things are in motion that he could get in the way of.” He added.
“You know that’s not how I work.” The dark one said without emotion. “I do the job my way and there will be no traces. You cannot rush perfection.” He added.
“Look, I know all that, but this is a rush job. There’s just no other way to put it.” The tall man said. His tone reflected the strain he was under.
“If you want it done like a cowboy, then tell your goons to take care of it. If you want professional results, then you hire me.” Imran pressed. “So, what’s your call?”
“Do it, I’ll transfer your usual fee plus ten percent. If it happens quickly, I’ll send an additional transfer of the same amount.” The tall man said, trying to use his capital to push this assassin around.
“Not a cowboy.” Imran replied. “But I’ll take the job. Send the credits now.” He demanded. The banks shifted credits in the network that the Tall man owned.
“It is done.” He announced.
“Then I have work to do.” The dark one replied and cut the connection. He was prompt, efficient and probably not going to rush. Money was not the driving factor behind the man and that infuriated the tall man. He used money to control the masses. He used it to handle any problem. Now this one man had managed to get under his skin thoroughly simply by not being buyable. It was the second situation beyond his control in as many days. This was becoming the worst week ever.
∆ ∆ ∆
Marshall had been trying to remain scarce as well. He had followed the passageways he was told about and he had managed to elude the downed officer. His plans required him to remain free to aid the kids. It was not an enviable situation but his wife’s spirit would not rest until he had brought the tall man to justice. His Pad device showed him where his next objective was, and he was ready to get moving. He was much easier to find if he was standing still.
The archives were seldom used for most people did not have access to them. They had been replaced long ago by bigger and better storage devices. But they still held volumes of data on the ship and its occupants. It was not, however, online. He would have to power on an antique terminal in order to access anything in that old database. He was prepared to do just that though. He needed to find out how long the tall man had been on board. Had he come from another planet that had been colonized? Had he slipped aboard during one of only a handful of encounters with alien ruins and outdated stations? He had managed to get himself aboard somehow. That was the only thing certain at this point.
The corridors were dusty. The metal looked fatigued. The lights flickered with the unstable power down here. Corrosion was evident everywhere. There was a musty smell in the air and Marshall wrapped a cloth around his face to keep from breathing too much dust.
The access panel was powered down. Nobody had been here in quite some time. Marshall had anticipated this and brought out a small battery pack from his back pocket. He opened the panel and carefully plugged the battery up to the power terminals on the panel. The panel lit up. Satisfied, Marshall entered his passcode and the archive door slid aside slowly as if grinding on the rust in its track.
He stepped inside and reached through to pull his battery pack and close the panel once again. The door would remain open since the panel could not auto close the door being powered down. Marshall knew that this was a long shot. He would search and then get out. But where to begin? The terminal was easy enough to find and it had been hard-wired into ship’s power, so the on/off switch actually worked. Motors and fans turned on inside the terminal with a whining hum that settled down after the initialization routine completed. The screen came up with an amber glow and actual text popped up.
TL917b online.
Query:
Marshall stared at the un-helpful prompt and wondered what criteria he could search for within this old-time system. He started with the basics.
Personnel record search: The Tall Man
This seemed like a strange thing to search for, but he might get lucky. The computer began the search and the room seemed to get warmer with the effort. It was several moments before the terminal updated.
No listing for “The Tall Man”
Query:
That was pretty much what he had expected
to see. I mean, who would actually enter that as a name? If the tall man had another name, he did not know it. So that kind of search would prove fruitless. He needed another approach.
Personnel record search: anyone who entered the ship after initial launch.
This would eliminate native-born humans and the original colonists from the ship’s launch. He felt strongly that this would give him something. He sat back and waited for the old machine to process his search. Numbers crunched, the database was big and slow. The result came up on the screen and Marshall frowned.
No listing for anyone entering the ship after initial launch.
Query:
Marshall was feeling angry now. This database had to have something he could use. Was anybody in it?
Personnel record search: everyone.
A list of over two hundred thousand names began to scroll down the screen. The database was active and had recorded many people, but none that had entered the ship after initial launch. Either that or the records did not indicate such a status.
Eternals Among Us: Book one Page 12
