The Phoenix Conspiracy

by Richard L. Sanders

  "Makes sense," said Adams. He shot Mitchell a look that made him hold his tongue. Calvin wondered if he were sending him instructions on how to handle this conversation, perhaps to keep a secret.

  "OK let's take it back a step. You don't remember being put in the container, what about before that? Were you in a fight? Did you catch a glimpse of your attacker?"

  Adams shook his head slowly. "No we weren't in a fight. And no, I didn't see anything, did you?" He looked at Mitchell who shook his head.

  Calvin kept pressing. "Did you hear anything? A footstep? The crackle of the forcefield powering down? Anything at all?"

  "No."

  It really did seem like they were sending each other signals on how to answer. Shifty eyes, nervous glances, subtle body language, Mitchell's defensive posture...

  Calvin ordered one of them out of the room so he could talk to them individually.

  "OK, Adams," said Calvin. "What is the last thing you do remember? You were guarding the brig, the werewolf was behind the forcefield, then what happened?"

  "We stood guard as ordered, sir."

  "For how long?"

  "I don't know. Until I woke up in the infirmary."

  "So you have no idea how the forcefield was deactivated?"

  "No, sir."

  "Did the prisoner say anything to either you or Mitchell?"

  "No, sir."

  "How long were you standing guard before your memory gets all fuzzy?"

  "I don't know, sir."

  "Dammit, make a guess, son," said Monte.

  "Umm... I dunno. Maybe ten minutes or so. I'm sorry, sir, I really don't know," he paused. "I was standing there, gun in my hands, and that's the last thing I remember."

  Calvin looked into the man's face, particularly his eyes. He was perfectly calm, eyes steady, face placid. Even his voice was smooth and crisp. Calvin couldn't decide if that meant he should trust him or not. Either he told the truth or his lie was masterfully practiced, perhaps overly so.

  "Thank you, Adams, that will be all."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Tell Mitchell to come in on your way out."

  With a nod, Adams left.

  "What do you think?" Calvin looked over at Monte who now had his feet up on his coffee table.

  "He might be telling the truth. It is possible for someone to lose consciousness and not remember the moment when it happened. Like the instant when you fall asleep, you can't remember that."

  The door opened and in stepped Mitchell. Calvin ordered him to take a seat.

  "Mitchell, what is the last thing you remember before waking up in the infirmary?"

  "I don't know, I don't remember."

  Calvin sat up. What a strange response. "You mean you don't remember the last thing you remember?"

  "I don't know." He said abruptly—not nearly as well-composed as Adams. But he wasn't sweating or trembling either. Just sharp, abrasive, and a bit thoughtless.

  "It's very important that you listen to me carefully," Calvin spoke slowly. "And answer truthfully and completely. Do you understand?"

  "Sir, yes, sir."

  "What is the last thing you do remember?"

  "I don't know."

  "Maybe you're not hearing me, soldier," Calvin's voice sharpened. "But that's not what remember means. When I ask you what the last thing is you remember, you tell me the last thing you can think of. Do you remember being put on duty in the brig area?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Do you remember the prisoner there?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Describe him for me, please."

  "A man, early thirties, brown hair, red eyes, light brown skin."

  "Did you notice anything peculiar about him?"

  "Yes sir, his eyes were red at first. Glowing bright red."

  "How red?"

  "Red sir."

  "How red?"

  "Very red."

  "I said, how red?"

  The soldier shrugged. "Red like... an apple that's on fire."

  "That's better," Calvin relaxed. "Now, what is the last thing you remember?"

  "I was on duty with Adams. We were standing guard by the prisoner. And that's all I remember."

  "How long were you on duty?"

  "I don't know."

  "How long..." Calvin paused, "before the prisoner made his move."

  "I don't know. Maybe five minutes, maybe ten."

  "Did he say anything to either of you at any time?"

  "I don't know."

  "What do you mean you don't know?"

  "I mean, I don't remember, sir."

  "And if you had to make a guess?"

  "I'd say no. I don't think he did. Or, if he did, I didn't hear him. He really didn't seem like the talkative sort."

  "Did anyone else come onto that deck or walk by?"

  "No sir."

  "No or you don't remember."

  "No sir, they did not."

  Calvin drummed his fingers on the table beside him. "Okay, thank you, Mitchell, you're free to go."

  Mitchell saluted and left.

  "One person with amnesia is one thing," said Calvin, looking at Monte once more, "but two people forgetting the exact same thing at the exact same time, doesn't that seem improbable?"

  "Yes, it does," Monte admitted. "Unless neither of them were looking the right way. You can't remember something you didn't see."

  "Could be," said Calvin, wondering. "Or maybe they were tricked into lowering the forcefield and they’re both too ashamed to admit it. So they conveniently don't remember."

  "Our soldiers are trained better than that."

  "I would hope so. The only other logical conclusion that I can see," said Calvin, "is that someone let the lycan go. How else could the forcefield be powered-down and the surveillance footage go missing?"

  "You think these soldiers let the prisoner go on purpose, and then tried to hide it?"

  "Maybe, maybe not," said Calvin. "They weren't in any position to switch out the surveillance footage," he paused. "But someone did that. Either that someone was working with Mitchell and Adams, and had their full cooperation, or else arranged for them to be taken down and stuffed away in that container."

  "Don't you think, if they were co-conspirators, the odds of them both being randomly assigned to guard the prisoner is a bit slim?" asked Monte.

  "Unless the person who assigned them to guard the prisoner was in on it."

  "Major Jenkins?" Monte laughed. "No way!"

  Calvin agreed that sounded absurd. He'd known Jenkins long enough to be sure of his character, and he would never, under any circumstances, compromise his own unit to let a dangerous prisoner roam free. But, Calvin realized, there was always the slim chance he was wrong.

  "You Intel Wing types are always seeing too much into things. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar."

  "Sometimes," said Calvin. "But not always." Silently he agreed with the doctor. None of these suspects had motive to let Tristan go. And none of them could have known in advance Tristan would be on the ship. It was a dead end.

  "It could be amnesia," said Monte. "What's important to establish here is, what is causing them to forget?"

  Calvin rubbed his chin. "Could it be some kind of drug?"

  "I don’t know. I have mixed feelings about that hypothesis," said Monte. "Giving someone a drug intended to take effect later in the day can be rather imprecise, especially when you want it to affect two people of different sizes at the exact same time and the exact same way. It's not as simple as it looks in the movies. Most likely, what would happen, is that one soldier would go down before the other. And the one still standing would have plenty of time to alert someone."

  "What about when the dentist put me out to take out my wisdom teeth? I was out like a light after only a few seconds."

  "That's a really strong general anesthesia. With something like that, total unconsciousness can be achieved in no time with guaranteed loss of memory. But it would have to be administered shortly before
the patients—I mean soldiers—became unconscious, and there are all kinds of complexities. For instance, the person could easily stop breathing, or if they're undermedicated they could have dangerously high blood pressure. Not to mention the anesthesia must be maintained, to keep someone out for an extended amount of time. It would be dangerous and complicated."

  "What about blunt injuries?" asked Calvin. "You know, blows to the head."

  "Their bruises and trauma weren't severe enough to suggest that," said Monte. "And that would risk neck and spinal injuries. Maybe the culprit wouldn’t care about our soldiers’ long term health, but whether or not he did, neither Mitchell nor Adams experienced any kind of trauma that would have risked a long term injury. So, considering that, maybe the culprit did have some motive in keeping our men intact. If so, then knocking them out with blunt force, that carefully and precisely, seems as likely as the lycan using some kind of magical lycan ability to do all of this."

  "So what is your working theory?"

  "I don't have any working theories. I just patch people up and figure out ways to make them feel better. How they end up in one of my hospital beds is their business."

  "Okay, thanks," said Calvin with a sigh. Unsure how to keep investigating this angle.

  Chapter 14

  Calvin stared at the results of his database search, regarding the fingerprints the Roscos had given him—belonging to Jacobi and those who'd attacked him on Aleator.

  Jacobi had not been his real name, which Calvin knew. His prints matched one Titus Antony, a young rebel, even younger than Calvin, with a full criminal record and a file photo. Apparently, before mysteriously arriving on Aleator One and helping Calvin, Titus managed to break free from prison and flee the Andricus penal colony, there was an open warrant for his arrest. Most of his crimes were petty: Larceny, theft, vandalism, assault, that sort of thing. The only real black mark on his record was that Titus had been a member of CERKO. But since the organization was officially considered defunct, no Imperial Marshals were currently pursuing him.

  After reviewing Titus' information in full, Calvin moved on to each of the dead. Some of the prints were useless because the Roscos hadn't been very careful getting the samples—as thugs they lacked proper training.

  Their personal backgrounds were not as similar as he'd guessed; many of them came from different planets, and their ages varied by a range of eleven years, but one thing was consistent. They'd all served time at the Andricus Penal Colony and their sentences overlapped. Some were paroled and others had escaped along with Titus. And all of them had known ties to CERKO. Either as members or accessories, and they'd all been rounded up during sting operations on Tarmosis Beta.

  Titus had said these attackers were members of CERKO and, judging from how well-equipped they were, it seemed CERKO was not so defunct after all. Maybe even better organized than before. That such a high-profile terror organization could be active again without Intel Wing’s knowledge was disturbing, almost as disturbing as the fact that they wanted Calvin dead, at least ostensibly. He seemed like such a random, arbitrary target. Yet they'd known in advance he was going to be there, and who he was. Maybe Raidan and his mysterious allies had planted them there to kill Calvin and slow down the pursuit.

  Something else stood out. The attack, despite how well organized and funded it was, had been sloppy. It fit CERKO's profile to botch an operation, but it still didn't make sense how they were well-enough positioned to take him out yet manage to fail so completely. Their information had been good. They’d known he'd be there. They’d known who he was. They’d had the hardware to kill him. So why had they done such a poor job of it? For the first time since his brush with death, Calvin doubted they'd ever intended to kill him at all.

  But what else could they get out of it? Why attack an Intel Wing agent if not to kill him? Scare him off the chase? No, that would never work. Maybe it was someone who wanted it to look like Raidan tried to kill his pursuer, who still wanted Calvin alive to keep hunting Raidan.

  Or maybe CERKO really had tried to kill him and just botched it up.

  Titus was the key to this riddle. He'd worn an old navy uniform, probably to get Calvin's attention. And he, like the others, was linked to CERKO. And he'd been involved in the prison break that had liberated a good dozen ex-CERKO soldiers. He was as much a red-handed CERKO operative as the rest, at least at one point in time, which helped explain why Calvin's would-be assassins seemed to trust Titus...

  No... Calvin realized something about the memory. The first set of CERKO soldiers who escorted him away from the casino, they had trusted Titus. Up until the moment when Titus killed them. But the second group they ran into, the woman and man around the corner, had opened fire without a word and killed Titus—their own man! Did they intend to kill him all along to help clean up the operation? Or did they somehow know Titus had betrayed them? Perhaps they fired because they saw Calvin still alive? Calvin tapped his desk wondering. Always more questions than answers...

  After several minutes of getting nowhere, he opened a secure connection to Aleator One, encrypted using Aleator's own operating codes which Calvin had access to and his crew did not. He gave the appropriate key phrases to connect directly to Grady.

  "What can I do for you, Calvin?"

  "I've reviewed some of the package you gave me," said Calvin as he ejected the datadisc from his computer and locked it in a drawer. "And I discovered that all people involved were connected to CERKO. The only dead guy who wasn't was my soldier whose body, I assume, is on its way to his family."

  "Yeah it's on its way first class. The Empire forwarded the money a few hours ago. As for CERKO, that doesn't really surprise me. We've been hearing that name thrown around here and there. So far I don't have anything for you, except for a couple of leads on how these guys got here. Unregistered private craft, they came on at least two different ships. We've locked them both down. There might have been a third but, if so, we haven't found it yet. That's all I've got for you.”

  "Any idea who owns those ships?"

  "No, they were found abandoned."

  "Too bad."

  "Anything else?"

  "Yeah, it’s pretty likely one or more of their operatives survived. Either by escaping your men or else not being involved in the attack outside the casino. Not a soldier, an accessory. Someone who housed them, or gave them directions, or information. If so, that person or group might still be on the station, especially if you're watching all the ships that leave. Backtrack and find out where these guys stayed, who they talked to, review whatever security footage you have. And see if you can find something."

  "Yeah, yeah, I know how to run my outfit. When we find them, and we will, we'll nail the bastards to the wall."

  "Try to get some information from them before you nail them to the wall."

  "Yeah, yeah."

  "One last thing. I want to know if any of these CERKO operatives, at any point, had contact with the team that came aboard from the Harbinger. Even for just a second. Or if they could have contacted the Harbinger from your station. I have to know if they're connected."

  "OK, for you, I'll check thoroughly."

  "Thanks. Let me know when you find something."

  "Likewise."

  The transmission ended and Calvin rested his head in his hands. He was rattled a little from the firefight but it was nothing he hadn’t seen before. He’d probably never get used to seeing violence like that, but he knew how to compartmentalize and deal with it.

  He resumed analyzing the data in front of him. Just as he finished looking over Titus' file again, the name Tarmosis Beta stood out.

  He tapped the comm. "Summers, would you please come in for a minute?"

  "Yes, sir."

  A moment later his door slid open and she stepped into his office. It was all he could do to keep his eyes from combing her over top to bottom. Instead, wanting to keep his dignity, he glanced away, back at his reports. "Please, sit down."

 
She did, right across from him. "What is this about, Lieutenant Commander?" He caught a whiff of apple-scented lotion.

  "You're from the Tarmosis System, right?"

  "I am. I was born on Tarmosis Alpha."

  "What do you know about Tarmosis Beta?" he asked, finally looking at her. "Specifically, CERKO activities there."

  "I don't know much ," said Summers. "I only lived in that system for two years before my family moved."

  He frowned. "OK here's what I'm looking at. My attackers were CERKO operatives. Never mind my source on that," he kept her from interrupting. "Now, I know CERKO had its primary outfit on Tarmosis Beta. And that's where the Empire cracked down on them hardest. I want to know who their ring leaders were, where their strongholds were, and most importantly how they financed their operations."

  "Well, according to the military records your own agency gathered," said Summers. "They were a loose, disorganized alliance of small groups, not a large outfit, and their strongholds were city basements and warehouses. Their money came through extortion, kidnappings, theft, and the occasional private donation. And the ring leaders were all rounded up and executed."

  "Hmm..." Calvin scratched his head. That description of CERKO may have been accurate a decade ago, but it seemed lacking now. It certainly didn’t explain how they’d managed to arm a dozen people and get them halfway across the Empire into neutral space to attack a low-profile, hard-to-find target like Calvin... that required some serious organization and funding. If nothing else, the information of who Calvin was, what he looked like, and where he'd be wasn't easy to find and therefore wouldn't be cheap.

  "Who is your source?" asked Summers.

  "It seems," said Calvin, ignoring her question. "That we're dealing with a new CERKO, one that is more centrally unified and has access to a lot more money."

  "So you're not going to answer my question?" she looked irritated.

  "One of the men on Aleator didn't attack me, he helped me. He killed a couple of my attackers before he himself was killed."

  She sat up.

  Calvin continued. "He didn't get a chance to say much, but he mentioned CERKO. I don't think he said that to throw me off. And his fingerprints match those of an ex-CERKO operative and so do the fingerprints of all my attackers. They're all connected to CERKO. I take that as a pretty strong sign that CERKO is, to one degree or another, thriving. And that it had its hand in the attack on Aleator One. Wouldn't you agree?"