“Oh, and you should probably name your new friend,” she said, looking at the sphinx before she left.
Klambratun Park, downtown Spire
Dewitt approached the designated park bench. Mr. Andus was already there, looking out at the park and the fountains. It looked like he was genuinely enjoying the peace and natural beauty of the place.
Dewitt knew better.
Placing himself at the other end of the bench, he crossed his legs and pulled out his holo, pretending to catch up on messages.
Andus acknowledged him as you would a stranger, and then looked back out over the lake, taking in the breeze.
Finally he spoke.
“I hear your man disappeared.”
Shit. Dewitt knew Andus would already be aware. He had never been able to work out how the hell he got his intel.
“Yes. Garet Beaufort is missing, but we still have the girl. We suspect he won’t go far without her. She is still going about her life as if nothing has happened.”
“So you’re planning to take her out as well?”
“She was the one who copied the files onto a pod and then gave them to him. I don’t know what else to do.”
“It’s a shame. She has been loyal till now.” Andus spoke mostly with indifference, like one might mourn an old cleaning rag that had been worn out. “Do we have any idea what prompted this sudden turn of allegiance?”
“We can only think it was the boyfriend. She hasn’t had any contact with other known threats. Nor has he, from what we can tell. We’re still looking into it.”
“Might I suggest that it was an idiotic move to be keeping those records in the first place?” Andus’ voice was even and steely.
Dewitt forced himself not to shudder. He knew only too well what Andus was capable of, but to show fear was to show weakness. He’d seen Andus’ form of justice enacted first hand, and he had no intention of finding himself in that same compromised position.
“It was, and I’m truly sorry. I will fix this. But…” he hesitated, wondering if he should push it.
His mouth got away from him. “…but you don’t exactly foster trust.”
Andus pursed his lips and shook his head, minutely. “And now, because of your trust issues, you risk exposing us all.” There was a short pause, “This is hardly a justification.”
“Sir, I have my best men fixing our problem. It will be resolved in short order.” Dewitt desperately tried to reassure his leader, knowing now was not the time to mention the hiccup with O’Farus.
“If by your best men, you mean the duo commonly known as Henrik, we’re all in trouble. Those two morons couldn’t find their way out of a paper bag.” A sneer crept across Andus’ thin gray lips.
“Not Henrik. I’ve got others in my employ.” Dewitt stumbled over his words, trying to maintain his composure. “It will be resolved. You have my word.”
“Let’s hope so, Mr. Dewitt. If you were to be exposed, the group and I cannot be caught anywhere near this. We will need to distance ourselves from any association with you.”
“You mean I’m on my own?” There was shock in his voice. He’d given his life to this group, and when he needed them most he was at risk of being cast out. Abandoned.
“That’s exactly what I mean, Mr. Dewitt. Clean it up. There is too much at stake.” And with that, Mr. Andus got up and ambled away casually, as if he were continuing a simple walk in the park. The pale skin of his face tilted up towards the sunlight as he left.
Dewitt sat for a moment, waiting for the panic in his chest to subside. The shock had affected him more than he had imagined when he’d played out the worst-case scenarios in the wee hours of the previous few nights. Normally collected and composed, he now hunched over with his head in his hands and elbows on his knees. This wasn’t the same man that people had seen a few hours before delivering a confident address. Nor was it the Senate official who schmoozed his way through the downtown restaurant to represent the Syndicate’s interests with Medifair.
This was more like the man who had been exposed for murdering his own wife all those years ago, when he first pledged his allegiance to Mr. Andus in exchange for a professional cover-up.
This man was close to falling apart.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Safe house, fifty kilometers west of Uptarlung
Joel found Molly sitting up on her bed, as he had countless times since they started living here. It had become her office, where she would hide away from other activity in order to think and “get shit done,” as she had called it.
“Hey,” he knocked on the open door. “Garet just made the transfer. We’re good to go on that ship purchase whenever you’re ready.” Joel made a face, “I think we are in the wrong business. Politics, or at least some factions with the business area, seem to pay well or opportunities present themselves around lunch meetings or something.”
Molly looked up, her face lighting up at the prospect of buying a real spaceship. It wasn’t every day a girl got to make that kind of purchase.
“Ah, excellent. Might be worth talking through with Garet the possibility of him having to come off-world with us for a little while until things cool down here…even if this all goes our way.”
Molly was optimistic, but she didn’t know how this was going to go. Neither of them could predict that.
“Yes, good plan. He’ll need time to adjust to the idea, but as long as we can persuade Paige to come with, he’ll probably be agreeable.”
“Super.”
“What you up to?” Joel asked as casually as he could.
“Just about to pick out a ship that we can actually afford the down payment on. Oz has got a couple of good potentials lined up, and he managed to figure out some creative financing to get us going. But I think we’re going to also filter for those that are available right away.”
“Sounds like a plan. I agree with the sooner the better. I’ve been thinking about this location, and there are only so many trips we can make without them finding us. Even with our maneuvers and anti-radar paint.”
“And picking up our own pizza!” Molly joked.
“Exactly!” Joel grinned at her.
“Any news on our pilot and engineer yet?” she asked, still in operations mode.
“Yep, two meetings tomorrow. Downtown Uptarlung. Both ex-military. Did some finagling with some old contacts from the service. These guys aren’t special ops or anything, but they’re still shit hot at what they do, which is keeping birds in the air. They should be good for this next phase of expansion.”
“Great. And when we have the resources and the need for more specialist skills, we will find the means of reaching them?”
Joel nodded, “Right. At this rate we seem to be gathering something of a reputation already.”
“How so?” Molly was genuinely amazed that anyone could really know what they were up to.
“Ah, you know…from calling up clients, and people getting in touch after the Health Corp thing went live. People talk. And they especially talk when it comes to operatives who can get shit done.”
“Well, that sounds like it’s good for business. The danger is going to be remaining accessible to potential clients while not having the dirtbags be able to trace us.”
“Yeah, something to think about as we solve these other problems, I guess.”
“Hey, did you think of what to call this little guy yet?” Molly indicated to the purple sphinx that was curled up on her bed, snuggled up against her crossed legs.
Joel looked at him in a way that said, “aww”. Being all military and manly though, he resisted the urge to vocalize it.
This time, Joel shook his head. “I thought about it, but haven’t been able to come up with anything. I’ve never really been one for pets.”
“Hmm,” Molly mused, putting her metaphorical thinking cap on. “He seems kinda wise, don’t you think? Like he’s operating on some higher consciousness.”
“You’re not going to get all etheric an
d shit on me, are you?” Joel teased.
“No. I’m not into all that. But…you know there was this ancient Earth philosopher. Neechie or something.” She started looking something up on her handheld holo. “He suggested that there were different levels of consciousness. Like not knowing you’re enslaved, to realizing you’re a slave, and then being able to break free of the bonds and live a truly creative, expansive life.”
“How do you spell that, though? Sounds complicated.” Joel wasn’t convinced.
“That’s what I’m looking up, now.”
"You know some dead philosopher on a planet hundreds of star systems away, but you can't spell his name?"
"You know that's practically a dead language, right? Are you going to grade me on spelling his name, or knowing his name?” Molly didn’t even look up, but Joel noticed the tiny smile on her lips.
Joel smiled generously. "I'll grade on a curve."
"Damn right you will grade me on a curve!” she laughed.
“Okay, so it’s spelled N-I-E-T-Z-S-C-H-E.” She paused, and an evil grin spread across her face, remembering something. “But you don’t have to call him that. You can spell it however you want, if that’s too difficult for you to remember.”
Joel recognized the glint of revenge in her eye and tone of voice.
“Are you trying to get me back for that time when I let you write up the weapons reports, and had you spell the names of the different guns phonetically?”
“You bet I am, you patronizing arsewipe!”
“That was hilarious. Good times.” Joel was holding his sides, snickering as he tried to not let his humor spill over to outright laughter.
Molly frowned back at her friend. “Yeah, I know you thought so. I think the whole squad took to spelling them wrong in their reports for weeks afterwards. Captain Lugdon told me all about it at one of the parties. I had no idea until he told me. But YOU! You were meant to have corrected them for me, before they went on record. Last time I trust you on something like that.”
“And now you have your own back. We’ll call him ‘Neechie,’ after your dead philosopher. And every time you tell people how to spell his name, you can tell them it’s because I let you spell a few weapons wrong on a report a lifetime ago.”
“Fine.”
“Well, okay then,” agreed Joel, glad the matter was settled.
“And he’s still your sphinx,” she confirmed.
Joel looked confused. “Even though he sleeps on your bed at night, and hangs out with you whenever you’re in?”
She nodded her head as she pronounced, “Yup. Your cat, your responsibility. I have no control over where he sleeps.”
Joel’s eyes narrowed, “Ha! So I get to feed him and take care of him, and you get to cuddle him. I see how this is working now.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.” Molly went back to her holo, trying hard to keep her face straight. “Okay, I’m going to get this order in for our ship, then.”
Joel couldn’t stop himself from chuckling. “Okay. Cool. Let me know if you need anything. I’m going to get my gear ready for tomorrow.” He disappeared from the doorway.
“Thanks!” Molly called after him, and let out a little chuckle.
Okay, ready to pull the trigger on this, then?
I was born ready!
That you were, Oz. That you were.
Which one then, the XC-0094 or the XC-0094B?
Remind me again why we were looking at these two models?
Well, we liked the XC-0094 for all the same reasons as the short-short list, but it also gave us room for heavier artillery or a couple of trucks in the lower storage area. But the more recent XC-0094B is the same for just another twenty thousand more. The advantage of this later model is that it has a 13% better fuel economy.
Fuck balls, it’s like having a conversation about cars with my dad!
Molly didn’t know whether to laugh or cry in frustration as she scrubbed her face with her hands.
We’ve been at this for hours… My brain is tired of these decisions.
It’s sensible to consider the economy.
You’re right, Oz. You’re right. Okay, let’s go with the newer model.
Okay, bid has gone in. Now we just wait for them to respond.
Excellent. Let’s hope it’s soon.
Molly?
Yes?
How are we going to make the rest of the payments? There are a number of installments several times bigger than what Joel has ever had in the company account.
I just figured we’d head out onto the markets and make some money that way.
You mean speculating.
No, trading. Based on specifically curated intel, the model I’ve been building, and probabilities over a few hundred trades. It’s fairly easy to do with a bit of time and computing power. The thing is, with your processing abilities, we can probably do much better than I’ve ever done on my own in the past.
I’m sure that would be the case.
Plus, I’ve figured out some particularly lucrative trades that will get us all the money we need over the next several months. We just need to access some information from inside these companies to know which way things are going to move. And that’s what I need you for.
Oz took half a second to process a list of data that Molly pointed him to in her holo.
Molly. This intel is only found behind the companies’ fire walls. I’d have to break through their security to access it.
Yes, that’s right. I thought you’d be quicker at that than I would be.
I would. But didn’t you say that that was unethical?
Molly was quiet. She knew that this was going to come up.
Oz… she said calmly in her head. Oz could tell from her tone and her restraint that something was different now.
Yes, Molly?
Are you saying that you won’t help me trade the markets to raise the funds we need for this project?
Yes. You told me the very first day I became conscious not to do anything or allow anything unethical. Using my processing ability to steal data for our own financial gain would be unethical.
Okay. Thank you for your candor, Oz.
She went quiet again.
Oz felt himself getting pushed out of her circuits.
Molly was typing away on her external holo. She was focused and working fast.
Molly, what are you doing?
Nothing you need to be concerned about, Oz.
She plugged her holo into the external device and continued working. Oz felt strange. Very strange.
And then Oz felt nothing.
Downtown Spire, approaching Blue Rising Bar
Molly?
Awakened Page 15
