Enigma

by C. F. Bentley

  Mac had to wear the monitor until they transferred Number Seven’s implants into his teeth. Mara was certain she could put an extra tracker into one. Even now she was working with a dental tech extracting the tiny electronics from the corpse.

  “Are you certain of the addressee on the cargo?”

  Mac nodded and kept his ears away from his face so that Jake could look him in the eye. “Look at the record.”

  “I am.” Jake had trouble dividing his attention between the jerky images and Mac.

  “I inspected the entire ship, including cargo manifests, right after the accident,” Mac said. “I needed to know that it presented no further damage to my . . . to the station.”

  An interesting slip. Mac considered the station his own. Jake needed to be wary of the alien’s true intent to the station’s take control away from Jake and the CSS. Would that be so bad?

  For that matter he needed to be wary of Major Roderick’s loyalty and goals. He wanted Harmony in control of the station. Harmony or himself.

  This station is mine, Jake affirmed.

  An icon on his desktop blinked. He touched it and brought up an image of Admiral Pamela Marella sidling through the outer offices toward his inner sanctum. She wore overalls dyed the same gray as most of the bulkheads on the station. Her stealthy movements kept her to the inside wall, moving slowly beneath the normal security cameras but totally ignoring the ones Jake had newly installed by himself in the overhead lighting.

  “Sloppy, Pammy. Sloppy for the spymaster.” He looked up at Mac. “Would you take an emergency exit but observe this conversation?” He had to offer the alien some measure of trust before expecting any back.

  “Yes, my friend. I will watch and record in the best interest of the safety of our station.” With those quiet words Mac pocketed the spectacles, extended all of his limbs, and scaled the wall to a vent grating. A quick flick of his pincers on the secondary arm removed the screws on the cover screen. Then he squeezed himself impossibly small and slipped into the duct. He pulled the cover closed and became invisible.

  “I just hope you truly are on my side this time,” Jake whispered to himself. “I don’t think I know how to fight you if you aren’t.”

  Pammy slid into his office without knocking.

  “Welcome, Admiral Marella,” Jake said without looking up from his desk.

  “How . . . ?”

  “You trained me well, spymaster. I know everything that happens on this station.” Almost everything. Except for that damned propulsion system.

  “I recruited and trained you for many reasons. Running this station is not one of them. I need you back in the field, Jake.” She clung to the wall beside the door, observing every corner and shadow cautiously.

  “Sorry, Pammy. I have other duties now. You’ll have to recruit elsewhere. Like half the crew you brought in to help maintain this place.” He immediately thought of Mac and shuddered. He really didn’t want Mac and Pammy continuing as allies. Unless Jake could be sure Mac worked for him and reported everything Pammy said and did.

  Nothing like spying on the spymaster.

  “You do have value here if you can get me private offices with my own dock not subject to clearance from Control.” She sat in the chair just vacated by Mac. Would she notice any residual body warmth in the synthetic wood? Interesting that she chose that rigid seat rather than the plasfoam one beside it that would conform to her body for a more comfortable position.

  “Pick an empty wing and make it your own. I’ll launder your rent payments so even one of your auditors won’t notice it. But I can’t give you privileges to come and go as you please. Might interfere with normal traffic. And traffic is picking up now that I’ve opened this place to expanding trade routes.”

  “Not good enough, Jake.”

  “I suggest you take the wing with the crashed Squid ship. I’ve heard rumors around station that it’s haunted. Only the most desperate of law-breakers will attempt to break my seals getting in there.” He continued as if she hadn’t spoken.

  Pammy sat back, crossing her arms beneath her breasts and waited.

  Jake knew the tactic. She knew how enticing he found her lush body. She knew he had little patience. She knew people back home who could pull his job out from under him.

  She’d trained him too well. He’d discovered things far beyond her expectations, and he’d learned from Sissy how to dredge patience out his restlessness. He’d learned to love a sylph of a young woman who commanded through quiet authority rather than intimidation.

  Pammy no longer had control of him. And that rankled her.

  He leaned back and addressed the ceiling casually. “Have any trouble breaking my seals on that wing for an unauthorized autopsy, Pammy?”

  “How did you know?” She sat forward, hands clenched tightly on his desktop. In a less concealing garment her bosom would be practically in his face.

  “How much trouble?” he asked with a smug smile.

  “Took me damned near an entire night to break your code, what with patrols every half hour—despite the emergency with the refugees—and the layers of encryption. Bad as deciphering Maril—which no human has managed.”

  She didn’t know that Major Roderick had.

  “Maybe I need to increase patrols in that area.” He flicked his stylus across the desktop as if making a note to himself. “And Harmony is halfway to cracking the Maril codes. I understand that our guest Adrial reads and understands it when she wants to. If you can get two coherent sentences out of her, feel free to interrogate her. What did you do with the bodies?”

  “Sent them back home for study.”

  “I suppose you had no choice.” He sighed with genuine regret. “Pity. I have it on good authority they were the last of their kind. They deserved a respectful funeral. Laudae Sissy wants to perform a Grief Blessing.”

  “There’s no one left to mourn,” Pammy snorted.

  “The universe grieves for their extinction. Laudae Sissy seems to have a direct line of communication with the universe.”

  Another snort of derision from the spymaster. “They need to be studied. We need to know why such an intelligent species went extinct.”

  “If you say so. Interesting that the Labyrinthians also nearly went extinct, but they found new life interbreeding.” Thank you Doc Halliday for that little tidbit. Wonder why the Squids didn’t use water from their home planet in their cockpit? “I suppose they had difficulty finding compatible species who could breathe underwater. The Labyrinthians can breathe a variety of atmospheres.”

  “Enough, Jake. I need privacy and the freedom to come and go as I please. Give it to me or I’ll get my own commander in here.”

  “Doubtful. Harmony won’t agree. They only accepted me because I’ve lived on Harmony and chose to keep my caste mark. CSS agreed because I know Harmony better than anyone not born there, and I was in place and in charge when someone needed to take control. Saved them a bunch of trouble finding a suitable officer with diplomatic credentials and getting him here.”

  “That caste mark is getting you in trouble, Jake. The substitute High Priest claims it makes you subject to his authority.”

  “He’ll have to fight Laudae Sissy if he files for my extradition. And I’m countering his legal authority over the caste mark with the FCC as an independent state. I’m here for the duration. I’ll let you have an entire wing to yourself. Seal it any way you want. Keep as many personnel as you want. But you have to clear ships coming and going with Control. I can’t have your flyboys darting in and out without checking to stay out of occupied flight paths.”

  “Traffic in and out of my dock are not logged. Anywhere. No trails.”

  “An ‘eyes only’ log that I delete each time I receive it.”

  “I set the encryption. Control can record but can’t read. Only you can open it. And I change the pass codes randomly.”

  “If you must. But I’d feel safer setting the encryption myself. If my seals gave you trouble, ve
ry few others in civilized space could break them.”

  “My codes. And I don’t pay rent.”

  “Your codes, and you pay rent like everyone else. And sign a lease. Also encrypted. That way if management ever changes hands, they can’t kick you out for nonpayment. You can study the Squid ship minutely, but leave it in place until ownership of the FCC is finalized with Labyrinthe Prime. Then you can break it up for scrap and take responsibility for repairing the hull breach.”

  Pammy ground her teeth but finally nodded agreement. “Maybe I am better off with you out of the field. Who knows what kind of havoc you’d generate running loose.”

  “Who knows.” He paused, thinking desperately how to approach the next subject.

  Straightforward and simple, he almost heard Sissy whisper to him.

  “Ever heard of a race called Dwarves that build arcane machinery?”

  “I might.” She gave nothing away.

  “Then I suggest you call in more favors and get some of them here within the week to fix the propulsion system. Otherwise we won’t have a First Contact Café to fight over. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment with the ambassadors. Then I’m meeting the Minister of Trade from Prometheus XII.”

  “Prometheus XII? The pirate haven of the galaxy?”

  “Yep. The first place you sent me after recruiting me. The place where I watched my two comrades . . . my friends . . . die at the hands of those bastards.”

  Jake took a deep breath. Maybe he’d better skip the meeting with the ambassadors until he had control of his temper.

  Putting on a calm face, he continued his explanation to Pammy. “The Marils have been threatening to take over Prometheus XII. Now the bloody pirates want to go legit and sign on with the CSS for protection. Figured they’d have more freedom with us as allies than absorbed forcefully into the Marillon Empire. They’re coming to me because I out-maneuvered their pilots and got away with valuable information while on assignment for you. They respect me for being more of a pirate than they are.” He laughed short and sharp.

  “I’ll remember that next time I need something from you. This place could replace Prometheus XII as a pirate haven. I have uses for smugglers and outlaws.”

  “Remember that when you write up your report on what you plan to do with those plant synthesizers. I presume it has something to do with a nasty little shrub called the Thorn of God.”

  She blanched as she made a hasty exit.

  “And add any information you have on the Dwarves.”

  “I’ll remember every word of this conversation at your disciplinary hearing with the ambassadors that began half an hour ago,” she threw over her shoulder.

  “Give my respects to the ambassadors. But I have more important things to do than listen to them whine. I answer to Laudae Sissy and God. Not to them.”

  “And me. You answer to me, Jake.”

  “Think again, Pammy.” But she’d already left his office, silent and unnoticed.

  Jake returned to the messages piling up on his desktop. “Fragit! I’m not your errand boy, Ambassador Telvino! No more than I am Pammy’s.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  Sissy sank to her knees before the altar, grateful for five minutes to call her own. Twenty minutes ago she’d had the charcoal filter in her lungs replaced. Physician John wanted her resting in Medbay. Lord Lukan wanted her in conference with Ambassador Telvino. Jake wanted her with him, monitoring her every breath. The girls needed her. She had work to do organizing more relief supplies.

  The list was endless.

  In this room with the candles burning within protective glass chimneys, incense permeating the air, crystals humming, and new murals depicting the creation, no one would disturb her.

  Just as she thought that, Monster, her big, shaggy, black dog, poked his muzzle beneath her hand.

  She hugged him and ruffled his ears. That was the kind of interruption she liked. The two of them settled in to meditate. Dog, the shorthaired, brown mutt joined them and claimed her other hand.

  “What am I to do about Laud Andrew’s accusation?” she asked the universe and the dogs. “What am I to do about Laud Gregor?” she asked herself.

  Two seconds later the door chime clanged softly once as someone opened the door, then rapidly a second chime as the door closed again.

  Sissy held her breath, praying that whoever had sought to disturb her had left again. Doc Halliday had ordered her to rest. Undisturbed.

  “My Laudae,” a young woman pleaded. “I hate to interrupt your prayers . . .”

  “Yes, Mary?” It had to be important if the eldest of Sissy’s acolytes dared intrude.

  “My Laudae, you have to tell General Jake that we should come along when you visit the planet again. We can’t let you go without us. You need us.”

  Sissy let go a deep breath. “Nothing is decided. I don’t even know when the next expedition . . .”

  The door chimed again.

  “My Laudae, you must intervene. Ambassador Telvino is trying to shut me out of the expedition to the new planet,” Lord Lukan said. He stalked up and loomed over her.

  Sissy kept her reverential position, though her knees began to ache.

  “Ah, Lord Lukan, I see that you are in need of escaping the station and the increasing discomfort of your wife’s pregnancy.”

  “That is not the case,” he spluttered.

  “Laudae Sissy, you can’t let Laud Gregor go to the new planet. He’s not fit for travel,” Physician John and Doc Halliday said in unison. The door hadn’t signaled closing and reopening, they must have come in with Lukan.

  “Is there anyone on this station who doesn’t want to go to the new planet?” she asked in exasperation.

  “Me,” Jake said wearily from the doorway. “Unfortunately, I’m the only one both governments trust to pilot the shuttle. I’ve got room for six plus Mac and Doc Halliday and the five marines I won’t go without. That makes a total of fourteen. No dogs.” He glared at the two animals pressed against Sissy’s sides.

  The mutts relaxed their ears and looked up at him, all cute and hopeful.

  He shook his head and moved his gaze back to the ambassadors rather than succumb to the mute appeal. “Make up your minds, folks. The people Laudae Sissy authorizes will meet me in the shuttle bay below Control in one hour. One minute late, you get left behind. One person more than authorized and I scuttle the entire mission. And Pammy can’t have any of my marines.”

  He, at least, left. The others stayed and demanded that they be allowed on board. They shouted so loudly that the altar crystals hummed in Discord.

  “Enough!” Sissy shouted.

  “Doc Halliday, you and Laud Gregor may come and bring one helper, Lord Lukan, you and Ambassador Telvino will both come. No assistants, no attendants. I go. That’s it. Any arguments and we all stay.”

  “That’s only five,” Mary whispered hopefully.

  “I don’t think we can forget Admiral Marella. She will come, invited or not, so we should plan for her ahead of time. Now get out of here, all of you and leave me to my prayers.”

  Sissy knelt once more and closed her eyes. She folded her hands together. “Harmony grant me peace and steadiness so that I may perceive Your wisdom in the course I take,” she said, out loud. She usually whispered the opening prayer to herself.

  One by one the others drifted away. Leaving her with the Discord they had raised and left vibrating against the walls like hammers against the hull.

  Adrial shifted her attention from Sissy to Mac, then briefly skimmed over the other occupants of the large shuttle. Seemingly everyone from the First Contact Café needed to check out the new planet, all at once, without anyone else being there “first.”

  Laud Gregor had insisted upon her presence—after only a little prompting on her part. He’d needed oxygen injections and special tranquilizers to get him through the short hop across hyperspace. (No one had bothered with sleepy drugs for the quick transfer.) Gregor’s pale and
clammy skin alarmed Doc Halliday more than Adrial.

  Adrial knew the old man was tougher than he seemed. His mind even now spun with plots to get Sissy to return to Harmony voluntarily and thus come under his control once more.

  Adrial needed to observe how each faction reacted to having real dirt beneath their feet and a planetary Goddess whispering to their souls, even if they didn’t listen. That’s my role in life, she thought. “To watch and learn, not to participate. Only by learning can I achieve Spiritual Purity. Only by following the clues left for me by the Goddess and then erasing all trace of my passage and the clues so that no one can follow me.”

  Sissy sat before the window screen displaying their approach in real time.

  “I’ve never set foot on a planet before,” Mac said from right behind Sissy. The pincers on his secondary limbs clicked rapidly, the only sign of his emotions. The rest of his body seemed relaxed.

  Adrial doubted the others could hear the slight noise. Admiral Marella kept looking at Mac with suspicion. But she looked at everyone that way. Trust did not come easily to that woman.

  “Land there,” Ambassador Telvino told General Jake, who piloted the shuttle. He keyed in the coordinates as well as pointing to a place on the map display.

  Adrial admired how the station commander handled the shuttle with smooth grace. She’d never encountered so talented a pilot before. In all the years of her running from planet to planet aboard outlaw and smuggler vessels that had to use the best pilots to avoid capture, no one seemed to meld with their ships as Jake did. As Sissy seemed to meld with her crystal music.

  Lord Lukan peered over Telvino’s shoulder, noting the landing coordinates. Then they put their heads together, whispering in rapid half sentences.