She glanced at Meade. She’d undone the upper buttons of her shirt, exposing the tops of her breasts. Jasmine had to admit that it would probably divert attention from anything she happened to be carrying. Security goons were rarely very well trained. They'd prefer to spend their time ogling attractive guests instead of doing their job. For once, Jasmine thought, she wouldn't complain about it.
“Let’s go,” she said. “Time is not on our side.”
“It never is,” Meade agreed.
***
General Mark Haverford shivered as he walked through the airlock. It was cold, cold enough to make him wish he’d worn his jacket. The spacer’s garb he’d been given just wasn't warm enough. He kept his face impassive as they hurried through a second set of airlocks. The air didn't get any warmer when they reached the checkpoint. A handful of guards were already there, waiting for them. Their expressions were far from welcoming.
“Welcome to Wolfbane,” the leader said. He wore a uniform that made him look like a naval admiral. Mark silently wondered which corporation had been given the contract for planetary security and why. “Wait here. When I give the order, walk through the gates and into the security compound. Follow all orders until you reach the far end. Any misbehaviour will result in arrest and possible detention.”
Mark smiled, inwardly. Welcome home ...
He waited until his name - his false name - was called, then walked through the door. A pair of guards greeted him, then took his ID card and tested it against their files. Mark tensed, despite himself. They shouldn't be able to detect a forged ID, he was sure, but if he was wrong ...
“You’re an engineer,” one of the guards said. He was a surprisingly fat man. There was no nametag on his uniform, so Mark mentally dubbed him Fatty. “You have some very good qualifications.”
“Thank you,” Mark said. He was grimly aware of the other guard running scanners over his body, then opening the carryall and scanning his possessions. “We’re looking for a job here.”
Fatty winked. “What’s it like, being in bed with five others?”
Mark felt himself flush. “It doesn't work like that,” he said. “We don’t all share the same bed.”
“I wish I could do that with my wife,” Fatty said. He laughed. “Stupid bitch thinks I hog all the blankets.”
“We swap partners,” Mark told him. “We’re a family, you see.”
“I don't,” Fatty said. “How do you cope when two of you want to fuck the same girl?”
“We manage it,” Mark said. Jasmine had made him read up on poly-marriages. He silently blessed her foresight. He’d never imagined being asked so many odd questions. “But the girls can choose for themselves, too.”
“Just like my wife,” Fatty said. He brayed with laughter. “She’s been choosing not to have sex with me for the past year!”
“I don’t blame her,” his companion said. He held up a device from Mark’s toolkit. “What is this?”
“It’s a sonic screwdriver,” Mark explained. There was a story behind the name, but he didn't know it. “I use it for undoing screws and removing components.”
“Very interesting,” Fatty said. His tone suggested it was nothing of the sort. “Put your hand on this panel, please.”
Mark braced himself as he touched the panel. If something had gone wrong, if the DNA resequencing hadn't worked, he was trapped. Fatty would call for reinforcements, then arrest the whole lot of them. His DNA was on file. Admiral Singh would have made sure of it, if she knew he’d defected. He rather assumed she’d suspect the worst ...
The device pinged. “No record of you,” Fatty grunted. Mark did his best not to sag in unspoken relief. “Very good, my man.”
He jabbed a finger at the door. “The girl outside will give you some paperwork,” he said, as the door hissed open. “Make sure you fill it out, then wait. Your partners will be along soon.”
Mark nodded and hurried through the door, trying to conceal his relief. A young woman in a black uniform passed him a set of papers and a pen, then pointed him to a desk. Jasmine was already sitting down, writing carefully. Mark sat next to her and started to work his way through the paperwork. Wolfbane, it seemed, wanted to know their entire cover story, from start to finish. Mark couldn't help wondering if they were just trying to trip unwary visitors up.
“We met on Crisco,” Jasmine muttered. “And married there.”
“Ouch,” Mark muttered. He groaned, inwardly, as he filled out his form. The slightest discrepancy would attract attention. Thankfully, Jasmine had forced him to memorise their cover story in great detail. “And got kicked off our ship on Calomel.”
The others joined them, looking displeased. Mark didn't blame them. He had no doubt that Fatty had questioned them too. Meade, in particular, looked like an angry cat. Mark shot her a reassuring look, then returned to his paperwork. It took nearly an hour to finish writing and then check it against the other forms. By the time they were finished, he had remembered why he’d come to loathe paperwork.
He half-expected another set of questions, but instead they were merely led through a second set of security gates, where they met a young woman in a green uniform who introduced herself as a guide. Mark studied her with interest, noting the way she held herself. She was just a little too neat to be a guide. He silently made a bet with himself that the young lady actually worked for the security forces.
“Welcome to Wolfbane,” the young woman said. She actually managed to make it sound convincing. “I'm Talia. My job is to get you settled in, then start you off on a round of interviews. Ideally, you’ll all have jobs by the end of the week.”
“You move fast,” Jasmine commented. Her tone was so neutral that Mark couldn't tell if it was a genuine compliment or not. “Do you already have an apartment lined up for us?”
“We have several,” Talia said. She turned and walked towards the nearest door. “You can pick and choose, if you like.”
“Nothing is too good for an engineer,” Meade said.
Talia nodded. “You’re important people,” she said. “We do want to welcome you properly.”
Mark followed her down the corridor and into the elevator. Unusually, Wolfbane’s orbital tower had its elevators in the centre of the structure, rather than running down the outer edge so the passengers could watch the view. The elevator car itself was barren, save for a set of chairs and a large drinks machine positioned in one corner. Save for the six of them and Talia, it was deserted. Mark couldn't help wondering if they’d been separated from other travellers or if there were truly so few people visiting Wolfbane these days. The new security requirements probably put casual visitors off.
The elevator lurched, then started to fall. “We’ll be down in thirty minutes,” Talia said. “I’ll take you to the car once we arrive.”
Meade sat down, crossing her arms under her breasts. “We’re going down fast,” she said, dryly. Stewart hurried over to the drinks machine and started to order something. “How do you balance the g-forces?”
“I think it has something to do with compensator fields,” Talia said. She looked oddly embarrassed. “I don’t know the details. I’m not an engineer.”
And that, Mark thought silently, explains precisely why the Empire fell.
***
Jasmine was silently relieved as the elevator car finally reached the surface. It was oddly crude, compared to the orbital tower elevators she’d seen on Earth; she’d heard creaking noises, accompanied by slight shifts in the compensator field. There was no way to know for sure, but she’d bet good money that whoever was in charge of the orbital tower was skipping basic maintenance. The war effort had probably dragged all the good techs into space.
Which is why they were so glad to get us, she thought. Going through security had been unpleasant, but she’d honestly expected worse. Security goons were notorious for abusing their power, particularly over young and vulnerable female tourists. They have a very real shortage of experienced technician
s.
She followed Talia out of the door and into a small office. A set of ID cards were already on the table, waiting for them. Talia picked them up and passed them around. Jasmine sighed as she saw her photograph, rolling her eyes in annoyance. She looked criminally insane, if not dead. The police would probably take one look at the ID card and arrest her on suspicion.
“Keep these with you at all times,” Talia said. “They’re your key to everything - your bank accounts, for example, are accessed with the card. Pop them into a standard reader for a full description of what you can do with them. Failure to produce them on demand will result in arrest and possible detention. Losing one will result in a very hefty fine.”
And they’re probably tracking us too, Jasmine thought. It wouldn't be hard to install a tracking chip in the ID card. Earth had experimented with a similar scheme, once upon a time. Wolfbane certainly had the tech base to make it happen. We’ll have to take one of the cards apart to see how it works.
“We’ve given each of you a basic expense account, with a small balance,” Talia continued. “You’ll be required to repay anything you spend if you don’t get a job in the next couple of weeks. Should you require a more complex account or a bank loan, discuss it with your employers first. They may be willing to help smooth the way.”
Jasmine nodded, listening as Talia outlined more and more rules and regulations. Wolfbane was starting to sound like a somewhat less populated version of Earth. It was a relief, almost, when Talia led them outside and helped them into a large aircar. Jasmine took a seat by the window and watched, grimly, as the aircar rose into the air. Wolfbane did look an awful lot like Earth. It was certainly as heavily regulated as Earth.
“Your first apartment is in the Henna Skyscraper,” Talia said, as the aircar flew over the city. “If you don’t like it, we’ll move to a couple of others ...”
“I’m sure it will be fine,” Jasmine said.
She studied the city carefully, trying to get a feel for its mood. It didn't look good, she thought. There were too many armed guards on the streets, watching for trouble. The civilians themselves looked listless, moving from place to place with a drab slowness that sent chills down her spine. There were few women on the streets, she noted. That was always a bad sign.
The aircar landed on the skyscraper and they walked down to the apartment. It was large, larger than Jasmine had expected. There was a kitchen - instead of the standard food processor - a bath and six large bedrooms, each one with a double bed. Someone was definitely trying to welcome them. She rather suspected that a group of real engineers would be either flattered or intimidated by the apartment. They’d be expected to work hard in return.
“It will do,” Jasmine said. Once Talia had gone, they’d have to search the apartment for bugs. She had no doubt the building was infested. Foreigners would be closely watched at all times. “We’ll be very happy here.”
Talia beamed. “I’m sure of it,” she said. “Your resumes have already been forwarded to recruitment offices. You’ll be hearing from them by the end of the day.”
Jasmine made a show of looking at her wristcom. “We’ll get some rest,” she said. “And then see what we find to eat.”
“Very good,” Talia said. “There’s a set of restaurants on the lower levels and some more outside, if you wish to explore.”
She bowed, politely. “Call me if you have any questions. I’m available every hour of every day.”
Which probably means you have an office somewhere within this building, Jasmine thought, wryly. It was another complication, but she couldn't say she hadn't prepared for it. The real problem would be avoiding getting hired. That might be a major headache. They will expect us to start work as quickly as possible.
“Unpack, if you like,” she said, cheerfully. They’d know she really meant they were to hunt for bugs. “And then we’ll get something to eat.”
She walked into her bedroom, dumped the carryall on the bed and started to unpack, taking the opportunity to look for bugs. There didn't seem to have been any attempt to hide them, she discovered. Three bugs were close to her bed - she wondered what the security officers expected to hear - and two more were positioned by the door. She made a mental note to keep looking - she might have been meant to find the obvious bugs - and then hurried back out. Meade and Stewart were exploring the kitchen together, poking through the stasis fridge.
“I fancy a cup of coffee,” Stewart said. He moved his hands in a motion Jasmine recognised, indicating that there were at least five bugs in the kitchen. “How about you, Jazz?”
“Coffee would be great, thanks,” Jasmine said. “Make sure you get a shower before we go out.”
“Of course,” Stewart said. He made another signal. Bugs in the bathroom. “I can't wait to explore.”
Jasmine groaned, inwardly. Bugs in the bathroom ... optical pick-ups, she suspected. They’d be harder to deal with than audio bugs. The bastards who’d hidden them probably wanted a show.
She pushed the thought aside. “Neither can I.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Jasmine had once heard a particularly unpleasant world described as a prison camp above ground and a mass grave below. She had no idea if Governor Brown or Admiral Singh had bothered to slaughter their enemies in vast numbers, but she couldn't help comparing Wolfbane to a giant prison camp. A day of covert observation and datanet probing was enough to confirm that the planetary population was under very close surveillance indeed.
But watching everyone all the time is beyond the security forces, she thought, as she walked down the darkening streets. The sun was setting, plunging the city into night. Haverford followed her, trying to look inconspicuous. There’s just too many people to watch.
She smiled, thinly. It hadn't taken long for Meade and Patrick to figure out how the ID cards worked, then spoof them. As Jasmine had expected, they did broadcast a regular ‘I am here’ signal to the planetary security network, allowing guests to be tracked without making it particularly obvious. But it had rapidly become clear that half the population didn't carry ID cards on a regular basis, making it harder for the security forces to keep track of them. Once they’d ditched the cards, moving around without being followed was easy.
As long as we don’t attract attention, she reminded herself. There seemed to be armed guards on every intersection, marching up and down and glowering at anyone who looked too closely at them. Jasmine wasn't too impressed. It was a show of strength - but that was all it was. The guards are scattered across the city.
Tryon City was on edge, she thought. The guards couldn’t stop people from talking, whispering in hushed voices. Jasmine had heard countless rumours, ranging from massive defeats in interstellar space to hundreds of people who’d simply vanished. Everywhere they went, viewscreens blared exhortations to hard work and dedication, reminding the general population that the war was in their lands. Jasmine rather hoped that was true, if only because the Wolves were bound to lose. The listless civilians, drinking when they weren't working, didn't seem particularly inspired. She had a feeling that some of them - perhaps most of them - had given up.
Most of them don’t have the skills to be useful, she thought. And getting the training they need isn't going to be easy.
She stopped, allowing Haverford the chance to catch up with her. “Are you sure about your friend?”
“He’s still alive and in place,” Haverford said. He sounded confident, but Jasmine could tell he was faking it. Haverford had deserted nearly five months ago. A lot could change since then. “And he owes me.”
Jasmine sighed. She would have been happier vanishing into the underground - it wouldn't be hard - and trying to build up a revolutionary army from scratch, but she knew that wasn't an option. She’d learned enough in a day to know that Admiral Singh’s forces would squash any unconnected rebel force like bugs. Admiral Singh might be away - Jasmine hadn’t been able to determine where she’d gone or when she’d return - but her lackeys woul
d happily do the dirty work for her. Reading between the lines, it was clear that Admiral Singh’s bully boys had already started to exceed their orders.
“I hope you’re right,” she said, as they reached a small bar. A grim-faced bouncer stood outside, his arms bulging with implanted enhancements. “Do you have the passcodes?”
Haverford nodded. Jasmine braced herself, one hand touching her wristcom, as they walked up to the bouncer. If they were caught, she’d send an emergency signal first ... the others would know she’d been caught and clear out before it was too late. After that ... well, they had their orders. They’d just have to proceed without her.
We need more time, she thought. Haverford spoke quickly to the bouncer, exchanging passcodes. But we don’t have time.
She groaned, inwardly. They’d already started to receive job offers. Most of them looked reasonably good - would have been good, if they’d been real techs. Wolfbane was so desperate for engineers that the corporations were happy to agree not to break up the poly-marriage. Jasmine suspected that the pressure to take a job, any job, would start to grow stronger within the next few days. By then, they needed to make contact with potential allies and either join them or slip underground.
Wolf's Bane (The Empire's Corps Book 14) Page 25
