by Bill Denise
“They were my friends,” she said coldly and Alexander winced mentally.
“Of course, I understand,” he said, giving her his smoothest, most soothing voice. “Do you have any idea what happened?”
She sighed, visibly drooping, “I don’t. I talked to Reverend Trueblood already, and he assured me that he would do everything in his power to find them, so that’s reassuring.”
Alexander knew that he’d have to tread lightly around this subject. He didn’t want to upset her by questioning the integrity of her spiritual leader.
“I’m glad that Renard is looking for them,” he said, nodding. “If anyone can get to the bottom of this, it’s him.” He paused, purposefully looking pensive. “You know, I have access to some, well . . . shall we say . . . less scrupulous agents, that might be able to find out more than Renard’s people, who are more principled.”
Avelina looked at him, eyes narrowed, “What exactly does that mean, Alexander?”
“Sometimes, when following leads from . . . recalcitrant sources, we need to employ various methods of . . . persuasion to get the information.”
“I don’t condone torture,” she stated firmly.
“And neither to I,” he exclaimed, acting offended. “That’s not at all what I meant. It’s just that sometimes there is no time for proper judicial procedures.”
Avelina looked hesitant, but receptive. He watched various emotions pass over her face. While she was thinking, Alexander moved on to the next subject, “And what about the Demon, Doctor, what can we do about him?”
She looked up quickly, surprised by the question, “Well, I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
Alexander leaned forward, “He’s being caged, Avelina, and he needs to be set free.”
She looked confused, but he kept going.
“The Demon doesn’t need the likes of the Council bringing him to heel, he needs to be allowed the freedom to do what he was meant to do. What you created him to do!”
“I’m—I’m still not sure I understand,” she stammered.
“He’s a beautiful work of art, the perfect tool for keeping the peace. Why else did you create him but to quell rebellion and dissent? You did make him for such a purpose, didn’t you?”
“Of course, but under Council control.”
“The Council?” he said loud enough to startle the doctor. “The Council is the reason we have these problems in the first place! They won’t use him properly. They have no idea of his true potential!”
Silence followed his outburst.
“And what about you, Doctor?” Alexander broke the uncomfortable quiet. This evening was not going at all as he planned. “Are you being protected? Obviously, there’s something dangerous happening.”
“Well, I’m sure Reverend Trueblood is keeping me safe.” She waved off his concern dismissively.
“You’re sure about that? I would be happy to watch over you, we could put you up in our finest accommodations right here on Lorah.”
“Really, Alexander, it’s not necessary.”
He reached out and took one of her hands, and her eyes widened. “Avelina, my dear,” he said earnestly, looking into her eyes, “you are far too valuable to me, the Council, and the entire Consensus to take any chances. Please, please stay here with us.”
She slowly leaned back away from him. “Alexander, you flatter me. But how could I pursue my work? We’re very close on the miniature Debar reactor - imagine if we could put that in Demon!” Excitement sparkled in her eyes, but she gently pulled away from his grasp.
He released her hand, reluctantly, “We could set up a lab for you here, whatever you need; imagine no budgetary limitations!”
“Honestly, I deal with very few limitations as it is.” She continued to hold his gaze, and small wrinkles formed between her eyebrows.
“I must be assured of your safety. Only by working together can we see the Demon reach his full potential.” He paused for a moment before continuing, “Is there anything other than safety that I can offer that might convince you?”
Avelina stood, surprising him and he scrambled to his feet.
She raised her hand to stop him before he could speak. “Alexander, your offer is very thoughtful and I appreciate your concern, really I do. But I will have to think about it and get back to you. I’m sorry. I have to go.”
“But, why?” he wanted to say more, but she turned to leave.
“I’m sorry,” she said as she hurried out the door.
Alexander watched her leave and his bewilderment turned to anger. He seethed for a moment, unsure what to do next.
“STOP HER!” he said to the security forces he knew were watching him, and he ran after her.
His HUD popped up in his vision and he loaded a small arms program into primary slot. He drew his two small pistols, one his ever-present blaster and the other a conventional slug gun. Messages began coming in to him; she had a couple people with her in her small ship, and they took the Pryke guards by surprise, incapacitating them and clearing her way to the ship. Before they could stop her she was sealed into the ship and pushing off from the airlock. Alexander ordered up some warships from nearby to intercept.
“Sir,” an unidentified female voice said in his comm system, “we have two unidentified cruisers tunneling in, ETA thirty seconds.”
“Where did they come from?” he demanded.
“They were sitting quiet at minimum tunnel distance.”
“How’d they get there without us seeing them?”
“Unsure, sir, they must have moved into position weeks ago.”
“How long for our ships to intercept the doctor?”
“A full two minutes, sir, we can’t get there in time.” There was a hint of fear in the controller’s voice.
“Can they short-hop it?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer.
“No sir, it would take a full minute to runs the calcs, it’ll be over by then. Dr. Baksa’s ship is only forty-five seconds from tunneling out.”
Alexander let loose a string of vehement curses before saying, “Fine, tell our guys to stand down, do not engage those cruisers.” After a moment’s thought he added, “Whose are they anyway?”
“Sir, they’re not squawking at all,” her voice had a hint of curiosity.
Alexander’s eyes narrowed to slits as his mind churned over the possibilities before asking, “Do we have anything that gives us a hint of who they are?” He was sure they were Renard’s, but he didn’t feel the need to share his thoughts.
She hesitated before answering, “Sir, WERA scans show nothing but standard Mk II Cruisers, they could belong to anyone.”
“See what you can do to track them, I’d really like to know who’s picketing us . . . here . . . in our home.” He was fairly certain, but he realized it could almost anyone, even one of the smaller dynasties.
He needed more information. “Let me know everything you can find out, no matter how trivial; follow up on it yourself and report to me personally, please.”
“Yes, sir,” and the fear in her voice was palpable, making Alexander smile.
After a few minutes of brooding, Alexander decided he had to take a different approach to the Demon problem. I need to be more direct, he thought, and I need to stick to the strength of the Pryke Family.
‘Subterfuge and misdirection,’ popped into his mind, it was his father’s favorite saying. “The Pryke Family Jewels!” he finished out loud.
Opening up his command channel, he said, “Intelligence Chief, get to my office, now!” He rarely bothered to learn the names of his staff since they changed fairly regularly. He always told himself he’d learn their names once they’ve proven their worth. So far, he knew very few names.
**** ****
Steve Bahena found himself thinking about Joann. He often wondered how she was doing after her sudden reappearance and subsequent quick departure. Part of him wished there had been some excitement in the weeks following her visit. But noth
ing had actually changed for their group.
“I think we might have a problem,” Ted Khasan said as his face popped up on Steve Bahena’s supposedly secure screen. How does he do that, Steve wondered for the millionth time.
“Hello, Ted,” Steve said calmly, “what have you got?”
“No really, it’s something this time, it has to do with Joann, I’ve got Lurkers on her name, codes, accounts, everything, and she’s been pinged—big time!”
“Tell me more.” Steve realized it could be something important.
“Someone’s looking at all of her files, and they’re being very quiet about it. This is no standard inquiry, it’s too well hidden.”
Steve never questioned Ted’s intel on communications around their group, but it had been a long time since anyone showed any interest in them. This could be worrisome depending on the direction of the research.
“What were they looking for, specifically?” he asked Ted.
“They were looking for her home, where she spent her time in her younger years. Essentially,” he added dramatically, “they’re looking for us.”
Steve didn’t really want to believe what he was hearing, but it made sense if what Joann told them was true. And he had no reason to believe that it wasn’t. Not sure he wanted to know the answer, he asked anyway, “Who’s doing the looking?”
“That’s not so easy to find. I traced back as far as I could and got nothing obvious. However, once I analyzed it with certain probability filters and fuzzy-seeded algorithms I got something.”
“What have you got, Ted?” Steve knew that he had to let Ted tell the whole story. Try as they might over the years, they were never able to remove the drama from Ted.
“It’s big, Steve! I know you guys always think I’m overly dramatic, but this time I’m telling you, it is big.”
“Who, Ted?” Steve was getting annoyed but also a little worried.
“It tracked back to someone in the Pryke dynasty.”
Steve’s blood ran cold. The ruthless reputation of the Pryke family was well earned and well documented.
Ted continued, “I know that could be any number out of thousands, even tens of thousands, but I shook it out and found that a deep ping like we saw, combined with a Pryke source, hidden to the extent that it was, indicates a ninety-four percent chance of Council involvement.”
“Kyndra weeps!” was all Steve could say. Now his chills were coupled with sweat on his forehead. He might question Ted’s drama, but he never questioned his numbers, and it all fit within Joann’s story. “Do you have new kits made up for everyone, including the kids?”
“Not yet.”
“Get on it, we need them right now! I’ll call Alyssa.”
“We’ll have the kits in three hours.” Ted disappeared from his screen as he cut the connection. A connection, Steve mused, that my screen says never existed. He placed a secure call to Alyssa.
Once she connected, Steve simply said “I heard from Ted. We’ve got trouble and we need to go to ground.”
“You must be kidding,” she said raising her eyebrows.
“I’m not. Joann has brought attention with her and now we are the target.”
“Really. Who’s looking?” she still sounded skeptical.
“Ready? The Prykes”
“Oh stop it.”
“I’m not joking, Alyssa, I wish I was.”
“Ted’s not being overly dramatic now is he?”
“Well, of course he is, but I believe this is real trouble. I’ve told him to put together new kits for everyone.” He paused while she thought about it, and then added, “It’s better to play it safe, don’t you think? If nothing comes up we can return in a couple of weeks.”
“You’re right, of course. I’ll tell the others. Are you covering our tracks?”
“I’m on it as soon as we’re done here.”
“We’re done, and thanks.”
Alyssa would convince everyone else of the severity of the situation so Steve could concentrate on his part in the plan. They had put together their disappearing act so long ago that he couldn’t remember when it was exactly, but they had only used it twice and it was almost fifteen years since the last time. Steve methodically ran through the software to ensure it was all up to date, and then he executed the package. Slowly over the next few days, recent history of the group would disappear from public record. He had developed the programs himself using techniques he learned from some true experts, who evaluated and approved of his methods. Soon there would be no recent record of their activities, although a military-grade search would reveal the deletions, leaving an obvious trail of hacking.
They met at the Woodall’s one hour later, and they all agreed to disappear the following morning. If they waited any longer, they could run into trouble, and if they didn’t coordinate their actions, it could leave some of them exposed. They also agreed to contact each other in two weeks. If anyone missed the rendezvous, the others would stay hidden for another two weeks and repeat the process. Steve and Ted would do their best to track down anyone that was missing, but otherwise no overt moves could be risked.
**** ****
Once everyone had left, Lauren turned to Kevin and asked “Do you seriously intend to take the children out of school and go into hiding?”
Kevin drew his mouth into a thin line. He knew that there was probably good evidence of danger, but he couldn’t bring himself to believe that it was true. It had been so long since they had been involved in anything. His life was completely different now with the kids in the picture. Picking up and disappearing was easy before, but now everything was more complicated.
“The kids make it more difficult, yes, but don’t they also make it more important to stay safe?”
Lauren made a disgusted sound before responding, “We weren’t real revolutionaries! We talked about it a lot, but we were mostly pretenders back in the day! We can’t just uproot and start over. I won’t do it.”
Kevin closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “I can’t argue with that, but we don’t know what Joann brought down on us.”
Lauren snorted “Yeah, her again! She was trouble back then, even before she ran off to become some big-shot scientist working for the Council. And now she comes waltzing back into our lives dragging her demons with her.
“I’m not running away. I’m staying here and living my everyday normal life. You do whatever you want.” Her anger melted away into crying, she sat down and put her face in her hands, her shoulders spasming with quiet sobs.
Unsure of what else to do, Kevin sat next to her, put his arms around her and whispered in her ear, “Don’t worry, we’ll stay together and we’ll be fine.”
**** ****
“This mission is a little more serious,” Gregor stated with no inflection whatsoever.
After the debacle of his first mission, Damon had been given a few very simple tasks to accomplish. He assumed that the Council was trying to bolster his confidence by giving him easy targets.
“It’s an assassination again, although much easier than the first one.”
Damon felt that he was trying too hard not to sound accusatory. Damon decided not to call him on it, but to simply appreciate the gesture instead.
“How so? No rail guns I hope!”
Gregor made a small sound that could possibly have been a laugh. “The target is a popular movement driven by the personality and charisma of the leader. Her name is Colina Correale, and she has fermented an uprising based solely upon her speeches beseeching people to leave Kyndraism and follow her. You won’t find any subterfuge and hypocrisy here, she doesn’t dip into the donations to buy personal items like . . . say . . . an over-sized luxury personal spacecraft, for instance.”
A tremor of fear ran through Damon, but he realized he realized he couldn’t deny it. “So you know about that, do you?”
“Really? That ship is too big and too special to avoid notice. It is probably the worst possible way to travel. I don’
t care if you keep it as your home base, but you can’t move around in it. The amount of interest it draws is significant. Even if people are only curious, they may decide to track you as well. And that, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you, would be bad.”
Damon wasn’t really sure how to respond. Gregor obviously knew much more than he imagined, and his secretive commandeering of The Abyss was not nearly as secret as he imagined. Once again he realized how little he actually knew about the people and situation surrounding him. He felt overmatched and out of his league. I really do need to get some help, he realized.
Gregor proceeded with the mission briefing. He explained that while the target was not militant, the Council suspected that there would be hidden weapons, stockpiled supplies, and other valuable intelligence to be found. They wanted Damon to take out Correale, but they also wanted him to find out as much information as possible. Once Gregor finished the briefing, Damon thanked him for the intelligence and initiated radio silence.
The target location was much different than anything he had experienced previously. All of his life he dealt with cities in various states of disrepair, but today’s objective was a sprawling ranch in the middle of nowhere. Damon approached in the middle of the night since he was nervous about the setting and the darkness would give him an advantage. His sensors and HUD provided vision that was comparable to midday, so the darkness had no effect on him.
Traveling at an enhanced jog, he made a circuit outside of the ranch perimeter in a little less than an hour, scanning with passive sensors and low-power actives. Much to his surprise he did not find any evidence of weapons emplacements and only a handful of lightly-armed guards. He also found a slightly raised area with a commanding view over all of the buildings on the ranch. Timing his movements easily between the guard patrols, he moved in closer and positioned himself on the higher ground where he could observe the largest building near the center of the compound.
