Garrett stood to leave, leading Red into the corridor. Garrett waited for the hatchway to close and placed a small sensor in the corridor, focusing it on Iveanne’s hatchway. When the sensor tripped, it would spray nano-scale trackers into the area, which would allow Garrett to trace Iveanne’s movements without following her through the station’s corridors. After that, it was only a matter of time.
Just a few minutes before midnight, Sasha entered her quarters aboard Haven, more exhausted and relaxed and happy than she’d been in quite some time. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed her mother’s side of the family, but perhaps, recent events had given her a greater appreciation of them. Still, Sasha wasn’t in the mood for any extended introspection; all she wanted to do was go to sleep. As she changed into her sleeping attire, Sasha saw a small object fall out of her right trouser pocket. Kneeling, Sasha retrieved a data card she didn’t recognize. Curiosity pulled at her, but a yawn chose that moment to claim her focus. She set the data card aside and climbed into bed.
Thirty-four minutes past 01:00, Garrett’s implant displayed video from the sensor outside Iveanne’s apartment. The fisheye view showed the woman leaving her apartment and heading toward the elevators, and she took fifteen nano-trackers along for the ride. Garrett touched Red’s arm and nodded. They left the quiet watering hole where they’d been waiting and followed Iveanne.
The nano-trackers led Garrett and Red to the warehousing area of the docking level. In a port as busy as Tristan’s Gate, the docks were always one of the busiest levels of the station, but the area Garrett and Red entered seemed devoid of activity. Soon, though, they heard voices.
“I did what you asked,” Iveanne said, “and it got me a visit by a Human and an Igthon. Why didn’t you tell me it might be dangerous? I would never have agreed to do it!”
“My dear,” the voice responding was deep and sounded amused, “of course, it was dangerous. If there had been no risk at all, I would’ve given the data card to Sasha Thyrray myself.”
Garrett and Red slipped up to a pallet stacked with crates up into the teens of feet high. Garrett peeked around one side as Red peeked around the other.
A short distance away, Iveanne stood with a man Garrett didn’t recognize. He stood easy, relaxed, his right hand in his trouser pocket. Iveanne almost vibrated with nervous energy.
“Well…okay then,” Iveanne said. “Give me the seven hundred fifty credits you promised me, and we’ll go our separate ways.”
The man offered Iveanne a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He withdrew his right hand from his trouser pocket, revealing a small laser pistol.
“Hey! What’s the gun for?” Iveanne asked, taking half a step back.
“What do you think it’s for?” the man asked. “You’re what people in my line of work call a cut-out. You already said you were visited by a Human and an Igthon, and I can’t have you telling anyone who asks what I look like or what I paid you to do. Say…you didn’t happen to bring the cred-stick with the 250 credits on it, did you? That would make matters so much easier.”
Garrett withdrew a stunner from his pocket and took aim. Just as the man was moving his finger toward the firing stud of the laser pistol, Garrett pressed the firing stud on his stunner. The stunner was the modern evolution of the taser or stun gun that had been around since the late twentieth century. This model used magnetic fields to accelerate the shielded projectiles to speeds greater than the speed of sound. Those projectiles carried capacitors and, upon striking soft tissue, used the person they’d struck as a conduction medium…resulting in said person falling to the deck/floor/ground as every muscle seized and relaxed. A person needed to be wearing an armored ship-suit—at the least—to have protection against stunner barbs, and the man in front of Iveanne wore what looked like a business suit to Garrett.
Iveanne screamed when the man collapsed and started twitching, jumping back as her hand flew up to cover her mouth. Garrett and Red stepped around the pallet of crates that had hidden them from view and approached, standing over the twitching man. After watching the man twitch for a couple seconds, Garrett shifted his attention to Iveanne.
“I’d like to thank you for your unwitting assistance in this matter,” Garrett said. “You were excellent bait. In the future, if a job offer seems too good to be true, you might want to give it a second thought.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
Storage Space, Docks
The Gate, Tristan’s Gate
10 October, 02:26 GST
Garrett watched the man stir and he leaned back in the chair with a sigh. He’d already taken DNA, fingerprints, facial map, retinal scans, and several other pieces of biometric data used to identify people. His search of various personnel databases was running, but he couldn’t pass up a chance to chat with the fellow.
A faint clicking filled the space, and Garrett looked over the man’s shoulder to see one of the Kiksaliks working for Cole. Garrett smiled. He didn’t know how Cole had gotten so many Kiksaliks to sign on with him; they were standoffish at best and downright antisocial at worst. Still, they made his job easier, and despite the visceral reaction most mammalian sentients experienced at seeing a Kiksalik, they were rather nice people.
“Who…who are you?” the man asked, struggling against the straps holding him in the chair. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
“Yes, actually,” Garrett replied. “I stopped you from killing an innocent woman. Well…she was your unwitting pawn. I suppose I could report her as an accessory before the fact, but nothing is served by sending her to a penal colony. She was just trying to make ends meet.”
The man blinked at Garrett as he tried to sit upright, but his motor control was still scrambled from the stunner. “Who are you?”
“Someone better at this sort of thing than you are,” Garrett said. “You don’t expect me to give you any name that means something, do you? Heh…well, I suppose I could always put on a Scottish accent from Old Earth and say, ‘Bond…James Bond.’ A friend of mine loves old movies, all kinds unfortunately, and I can’t believe they made those well into the twenty-second century; who would’ve thought spy flicks would have that kind of longevity? But we’re not here to conduct a film seminar. No. We’re here about you.”
“I’ll never talk.”
“But you’re already talking,” Garrett said, a slight smirk curling his lips. “If you’re not going to talk, do you need to tell me you’re not going to talk? Besides, everyone has a breaking point. It’s just a question of where yours is and how much inducement it’ll take to reach it. So…let’s begin. Who do you work for?”
The man shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Oh, come on. You think squeezing your eyes shut will make any difference? Seriously, who do you work for?”
The man shook his head again. “I told you I’m not going to talk.”
“Why were you going to kill that woman?”
The man shook his head.
Garrett looked over the man’s head at the Kiksalik. The Kiksalik nodded once. Garrett waved as the insectoid turned and left the space.
“Listen, chum. I have to thank you for your cooperation. You’ve given me everything I wanted to know.”
“But I didn’t say anything!”
Garrett grinned. “It’s an unfortunate trait of Human psychology that we think very hard about stuff we’re not supposed to say when we’re being questioned. I’m told it makes things rather easy for a telepath…like the Kiksaliks. My friend just left after sifting through your mind; it’ll be nice to hear what you know. In the meantime, I need to give you this little cocktail and disappear myself before Station Security arrives. Don’t worry; it’s fast-acting. You’ll be talking like a madman in no time.”
Garrett withdrew an injector from his pocket and pressed it to the man’s neck, right over his carotid artery. A brief hiss was the only indicator Garrett injected him. Garrett patted him on the head as he stepped around the man and wa
lked to the hatch, whistling an old family tune.
“What did you inject me with?” the man said, trying to turn to look at Garrett.
“Oh, nothing much…just thirty milliliters of Senpatrazol. I’m sure a man in your profession has heard of it.”
Over the centuries, chemistry and a better understanding of Human biochemistry led to more effective ‘truth serums.’ The ultimate in that line of pharmacology was known as Senpatrazol. Like its immediate predecessor, it was fast-acting and took a rather long time for the body to metabolize, improving its duration by a considerable measure. Unlike its immediate predecessor, however, Senpatrazol didn’t break down into a toxic compound that caused systemic organ failure. Whoever the fellow was, he’d be healthy and hale to enjoy the penal colony Garrett mentioned…once he’d finished telling Station Security everything he knew, including all the embarrassing personal stuff no Human ever discusses with anyone else. In about ten minutes, the fellow wouldn’t be able to stop himself.
First Officer’s Quarters, Deck One
Battle-Carrier Haven
10 October 2999, 07:23 GST
Sasha pushed the covers back as she rolled over and sat up on the edge of her bed. She still felt sleepy, but it wasn’t anything a nice, hot shower wouldn’t fix. A few minutes later, Sasha returned to her bedroom, towels wrapped around her torso and hair, and retrieved the data card that had fallen out of her pocket last night. She walked over to her workstation and slipped the card into the multi-reader, sitting in the chair as the terminal processed the data on the card.
A window appeared on the holographic display, and Sasha screamed. The still shot showed her parents kneeling on some dingy floor, their hands bound behind them and their faces splotched with dirt and grime. It was the first time Sasha had ever seen her mother’s hair so unkempt…and unwashed.
The video played, and Sasha watched her parents move as they breathed and tried to find a comfortable position. The first sound Sasha heard from the video was her mother sobbing. A voice said, “Hello, Sasha. As you can see, we have your parents. I’m afraid your brother didn’t survive his apprehension. Dreadful and rather unfortunate, that; I suppose I could pan the recorder around to show you the corpse, but does anyone want to see a family member with various holes in their torso? So…down to business. We have agents flooding every free port and hidey hole you might visit, and every one of them has a copy of this message. All of which means you should receive this no later than the fifteenth of October. Either way, you have until the thirtieth of November to present yourself before the Provisional Parliament of Aurelius, where the Parliament will sentence you for your crimes. If you do as we ask, your parents…well, no. Let’s be honest here. We’ll think about releasing your mother. Oh…do be a good girl, and leave that Lone Marine friend of yours at home. After all, do you want to watch whoever is under that armor die, too?”
The video froze on an image of Sasha’s mother looking into the video pickup. Her eyes were puffy, and tears had washed away the dirt and grime in lines running down her cheeks.
Sasha almost ripped the data card from the multi-reader and headed for the hatch at a near sprint. Half-way across her quarters, she froze and looked down at her towel-clad torso.
“Srexx?”
“Yes, Sasha?” Srexx asked over the speakers in her quarters.
“How long to Aurelius at 80% hyperdrive?”
“One moment…” After a brief silence, Srexx continued, “According to the navigational database, Aurelius lies two-hundred twenty-six lightyears core-ward from Tristan’s Gate. At 80% power on the hyperdrive, it would require 32.575 days to arrive, but at full power, the transit would only take 4.592 days. May I ask why you inquired?”
Sasha forced herself to take a deep breath. They had time. Remembering Srexx had asked her a question, Sasha said, “I was considering asking Cole to take me home to look for my parents, Srexx. That’s all.”
“Given the state of the former Aurelian Commonwealth,” Srexx said, “I do not believe such a course is wise.”
Sasha smiled. “You’re right about that, Srexx. Thanks. I appreciate your time.”
Sasha turned and went to her bedroom, where she put the data card aside long enough to dress. Then, she retrieved the card and headed for the hatch, intent on locating Cole.
Captain’s Day-Cabin, Deck Three
Battle-Carrier Haven
10 October 2999, 07:25 GST
Cole leaned back in his armchair, savoring its comfort. He didn’t appreciate being woken up. Truth be told, he never enjoyed waking up; he was just glad he’d always done so thus far. Garrett sat across from him rolling an old-fashioned metal coin through his fingers, like Cole had seen him do so many, many times during his adolescence.
“So, what did you learn?” Cole asked.
“Me?” Garrett said. “Not a damn thing. That Kiksalik you loaned me, however, learned all kinds of things. So did Station Security, for that matter…once they acted on my anonymous tip. It seems the fellow who hired Iveanne to plant the data card on Sasha is a field agent of Aurelian Intelligence, and this isn’t the first time he’s run an operation in Tristan’s Gate. It so happens that, this time, the op wasn’t directed at the system government. He’s been a naughty boy down through the years, and I imagine the system leadership will have a field day listening to his confession.”
“Do you have any idea what was on that data card?”
Garrett shook his head. “Nope, and neither did he. His contact brought it to him with the instructions that it be passed to Sasha Thyrray no later than the fifteenth of this month. Since he arranged for the delivery a whole six days early, he was going to claim the thousand credits he’d promised Iveanne as his ‘bonus’ for a job well done.”
“Over her dead body, right?”
Garrett shrugged. “Details, details…as far as he was concerned. Iveanne wouldn’t have been the first loose end he tied up, either.”
The conversation moved onto next steps and anything Garrett might need from Cole. A few minutes later, the hatch chime ringing off several times in quick succession interrupted their discourse.
“Dear heavens,” Garrett said, looking over his shoulder toward the hatch. “Who in all the stars needs to talk with you that badly?”
“Haven, please display the corridor outside my day-cabin on the bulkhead monitor,” Cole said. The viewscreen came to life and showed Sasha standing at the hatch. Her right hand went to the hatch chime against the wall just as another flurry of tones rang off throughout the day-cabin.
“Something tells me you’re about to learn what was on that data card,” Garrett said. “Where do you want me?”
“I have no idea how long this will take. My office shares a head with my day-cabin. You can get out through there, unless you want to sit through whatever this is.”
Garrett chuckled as he stood, Cole following suit. “Not at all,” Garrett said. “Letting anyone—even someone as fetching as your Commander Thyrray—cry on my shoulder is not part of the job. I’ll be in touch.”
Cole gave enough time for the hatch to the shared head to close before asking the ship’s computer to open the day-cabin’s hatch. Sasha stormed in, heading straight for Cole as she held up a data card in her right hand.
“You need to see this,” Sasha said.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Bridge Briefing Room, Battle-Carrier Haven
Docking Slip 12, The Gate
10 October 2999, 13:22 GST
Cole, Sasha, Talia, Sev, Emily, Carl, and Lindsey sat around the briefing room table, Cole and Sasha having flown one of the dropships down to Tristan’s World for Sasha’s maternal grandparents. Talia sat in her seat with a stunned expression as tears streamed down her face amid chest-wracking sobs; neither Sasha nor Cole had had Talia sit through the video ahead of time, and the news that her big brother was dead hit her hard. Lindsey Vance sat staring at the frozen image of her daughter and son-in-law, her expression teetering between sorr
ow and hope. Carl put his arm around his wife and pulled her close as tears ran down her cheeks.
“I…I can’t believe it,” Lindsey whispered, her eyes never leaving the frozen image of her daughter. “My baby’s alive…”
Both Sev and Carl directed thoughtful expressions toward Cole while Sasha held her sister. Sev and Carl shifted their attention to each other for a moment before turning back to look at Cole, their expressions still thoughtful.
“I appreciate being kept in the loop,” Carl said, “and our neighbors will talk about that dropship landing in our backyard for months. But you didn’t need to bring all of us together just to relay this information. What’s on your mind, Cole?”
Cole leaned back in his seat and scratched his chin for a moment. “We have an enormous advantage in Haven’s hyperdrive. At the speeds most civilian ships travel, the trip from Tristan’s Gate to Aurelius through the jump gates would take right at five weeks…maybe just a hair under five. Haven can go to Aurelius in just over four-and-a-half days, so there’s flexibility there.”
Sev and Carl looked to each other again before turning back to Cole, Sev saying, “Go on.”
“My sources inform me that the Provisional Parliament has declared all jump gates within Commonwealth space off limits to all traffic not related to the war effort. I’m not sure if you are aware, but that declaration and its enforcement represent gross violations of the contracts signed between the Commonwealth and Coleson Interstellar Engineering that permit them the use of our proprietary technology.”
“Hang on,” Carl said. “You said ‘our technology.’”
Cole nodded. “My full name is Bartholomew James Coleson. My father was Jack Coleson.”
The color drained from both Carl’s and Lindsey’s face.
It Ain't Over... (Cole & Srexx Book 1) Page 37
