Giles Kurns_Rogue Instigator

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Giles Kurns_Rogue Instigator Page 4

by Ell Leigh Clarke


  Thank goodness, Maya is still here with me, she thought, hearing the comforting sound of her footsteps following her down the steps.

  She found a terminal and punched in her access codes. “Bourne, are you there?”

  Nothing happened.

  “Bourne?”

  There was a flicker on the screen, and it went black. Then white text started appearing as if being typed.

  >>> GREETINGS PAIGE.

  Maya caught her up and hovered next to her at the screen.

  “Hey,” Paige said. “You still have access to the audio? Can we talk?”

  “Of course,” Bourne said congenially over the workshop intercom. “I just didn’t want to scare you . . .”

  Paige shot Maya a glance as if to tell her to note that he was displaying empathy and manners. Not so unevolved now, she thought to herself.

  “Bourne, we have a problem and I need your help.”

  “You can’t find Anne?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you help?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where is she then?”

  “She’s not on the base . . . at least, not according to any of the cameras.”

  Paige frowned. “You mean, she’s left?”

  “No, I didn’t say that. I said I don’t have a visual on her anywhere on the base or safe house.”

  Maya interjected. “And the only places there aren’t cameras are the quarters and kitchen.”

  There was a brief pause.

  Maya finished her thought. “I’m going to check the other quarters.”

  Paige nodded. “This would be a whole fuck-ton easier if she had a damn holo,” she added mostly to herself.

  Maya snorted in agreement as she disappeared up the steps to the base. “You’re telling me!”

  Maya’s footsteps trotted off up the staircase, leaving Paige and Bourne alone. “So . . . she could also be hiding somewhere just out of sight of the cameras.”

  “Yes, that’s also possible.”

  “I see.”

  “I can’t help with that.”

  “No, I know.” Paige hesitated, her curiosity getting the better of her. “So . . . you’re still binge-watching Netflix?”

  There was a long pause. “Yes. I am. I don’t see why this is such an issue.”

  “Oh, no . . . it’s totally not. I’m just . . . fascinated. I mean, I don’t know many AIs. And Oz is . . . well, I guess he’s all business. I just find it interesting that you’d be so taken with old Earth archives.” Paige realized she was babbling. And this wasn’t getting her closer to finding Anne.

  “I find it informative. It helps me understand you organics and what’s important to you. I have very few other points of reference.”

  “I see. So going back to Anne?”

  “Yes.”

  “You can see her arriving here earlier with Giles, right?”

  “Yes. She’s on camera there.”

  “Then where did she go?”

  There was a short pause. “To her quarters.”

  “Then where?”

  “Then nowhere.”

  Paige narrowed her eyes, a thought suddenly hitting her.

  “Ok, show me her going into her quarters, if you would please.”

  Bourne pulled up a screen at the terminal and showed the footage of Anne heading down the corridor to her room. She punched in her code and slipped inside.

  Borne paused the footage.

  “Ok. Now just play it double-time.”

  Bourne did as he was told. “But she doesn’t come out again.”

  “Hang on! Paige said, poking her finger through the image. “What’s that?”

  Bourne rewound it. “I didn’t see anything.”

  “Play that segment again.”

  Bourne hit play, and the time code started advancing again.

  “There!”

  “The video stopped.”

  “Back up a few seconds.”

  Bourne did that, then let it play at normal speed.

  Paige leaned into the screen as if she’d be able to see better. “There, the whole image goes kinda fuzzy.”

  Bourne ran a quick analysis. You’re right. Although, there’s nothing on the lens because it returns to normal after 8.4 seconds.

  Paige bobbed her head. “About as long as it takes for someone to walk back down that corridor,” she said.

  Bourne didn’t answer.

  “I think our young Estarian friend with superpowers has got a way of not being detected on camera,” she said slowly. The thought filled her with anxiety, as if she didn’t have enough to worry about. But then she also felt pleased with herself for catching it. “Bourne, can you run an analysis on all cameras throughout the safe house and base after this time and see if there are any other similar fuzzyings happening?”

  “Yes, give me a few minutes.”

  Paige waited patiently, hypothesizing about what they’d just stumbled upon.

  “There are a number of instances,” he revealed finally. He pulled up a smaller holoscreen for each. Twelve in all.

  Paige studied one after another. After three, she stopped and punched in on the frame. “Bourne,” she said slowly, her eyes fixed on the screen in question, “it looks like we have a problem.”

  Aboard the Scamp Princess

  Arlene stood over the old mocha machine, absorbing the decaffeinated scent through her nostrils.

  Getting out on a mission, especially one that was bound to be long-haul, was always a stress and a pressure, yet she couldn’t feel happier.

  Her mind flicked back to the time when her CO had ordered her to see a shrink after one particularly harrowing case. She’d been displaying signs of depression and chronic fatigue in the months following. Even getting out of bed had been an effort for her.

  Yet after just a few sessions, the medical officer had deemed her not only fit for duty, but moreover, the solution to her funk was to put her out in the field in more intense situations. Turns out, she wasn’t depressed at all. She was just bored with the mundane desk work her CO had put her on.

  Shortly after, she left the services and disappeared off on a couple of decades worth of intense adventure, which seemed to permanently cure her restlessness. Until, of course, this last year when she was once again back in a routine . . . with a job and rent to pay, no less. She shook her head at herself, realizing how much she missed being out gallivanting across the galaxy.

  The mocha machine still needed another minute or two. She was about to sit down at the little kitchen table when the hackles on the back of her neck went up.

  She wasn’t alone.

  She could sense Giles was still in the cockpit. So this was someone else. Someone in the cargo hold. Her eyes snapped to the door, her hand ready on the sidearm strapped around her thigh.

  Shit, she thought to herself. She was having a good day, and she just didn’t feel like obliterating something right now.

  “Giles, Scamp . . . can you run a ship-wide scan. I think we have company.”

  The audio in her implant cracked open. “Sure, Arlene,” Giles responded. “What is it?”

  “Dunno. Just going to check something out in the hold.”

  “Received. Initiating scan.”

  Arlene crept deftly over to the kitchen door and out into the small walkway between. She headed out the door onto the stairs that would take her into the cargo area. The area around her was full of supplies and weapons they might need for their trip. Everything carefully loaded and tied down in case of turbulence, as per federation protocol.

  Everything seemed normal. Her grindle senses were on high alert though. There was definitely something not right.

  She drew her weapon and started stepping down the metal stairs, avoiding making any sound or even casting any shadow. Moving slow enough not to catch anyone’s eye was also a consideration.

  She reached the bottom of the stairs and tuned in, clearing her mind of any judgment or chatter
, allowing her senses to guide her. Straight ahead, she decided.

  She kept moving, her weapon held expertly out in front of her. This intruder is soooo dead.

  About a quarter of the way down towards the tailgate door, she got a sense that the intruder was nearby. She swung her attention and weapon to the left and honed in on the signal.

  Just then, there was movement. She could see it with her eyes now. A kind of rustling in one of the racks. If she hadn’t known any better, she might’ve mistaken it for a stow-away cat. But she would’ve known straight away if Neechie was on board. Those creatures packed a resonance that would’ve alerted her far sooner.

  Giles’s voice was in her ear again. “It seems we have a small organic. Estarian. Female by the body temperature.”

  Arlene sighed to herself. “Thanks, Giles.”

  “Do you need some help? I can come and help you find her.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” she concluded, her voice volume now no longer a whisper but instead laced with an edge of annoyance.

  She looked down at the tarpaulin on the rack around thigh level as it rustled again. The intruder was clearly aware she’d been made.

  The sheet was pulled back, and a head with two eyes emerged, the young Estarian staring back up at her.

  “And what exactly do you think you’re doing, young lady?” Arlene asked as Anne peered out and looked up at her.

  Aboard the Scamp Princess, Cockpit

  Giles rested his head in his hands. He felt like ever since last week, his life had been imploding on itself.

  Disrespectful students, excessive workloads, and uncrackable talisman mysteries were something he could handle. Emotions, guilt, and now, pseudo parenting weren’t something he had knowingly signed up for.

  And yet, there she was. A surrogate daughter, slash, pain in the ass, slash, biggest responsibility of his life, sitting in the co-pilot’s chair, wide-eyed and excited to be on a mission with her new friend.

  Arlene shuffled back into the cockpit and sat down in her console chair, carefully placing her mocha so that it wouldn’t spill.

  “Molly is going to be pissed,” he muttered.

  Anne frowned at his language, then returned to her wonderment at all of Scamp’s systems.

  Giles turned to Arlene. “We’re going to have to tell her,” he said, as if handing it off to her.

  Arlene raised her eyebrows. “Yes, you are,” she said firmly. She picked up her mocha and took a sip. “And what’s more, we’re going to have to make sure she stays alive. Which’ll probably be the biggest challenge we’ve ever faced.” She paused a second. “You don’t need me to tell you she makes our position incredibly vulnerable.”

  Arlene’s face was unsympathetic, as if it was his fault Anne was here.

  Giles buried his face in one hand again. “Yes, you don’t need to tell me that.”

  Maybe it was his fault, he mused. After all, he didn’t have to befriend her. And if he hadn’t been trying to gain her trust, she wouldn’t have felt the attachment enough to want to leave the base. She would’ve stayed with Paige and would probably be braiding pigtails right now.

  He sighed, the weight on his shoulders ten times greater than it’d been even ten minutes before. “I’ll make the call.”

  Just then Scamp interrupted. “We’re getting a call from Gaitune. It’s Paige.”

  Giles rubbed the bridge of his nose under his glasses. “Ok, on screen.”

  Arlene swiveled her chair so she wasn’t in view and continued to sip her mocha.

  “Hi, Paige,” Giles chimed as the call connected and the holoscreen opened out ahead of him.

  “Giles, hi.” Paige’s face was taut with worry. “I’ve got some bad news. Anne has disappeared and I think she’s . . .”

  Anne poked her head into view of the camera. She waved her hand and grinned entirely inappropriately.

  Paige’s expression morphed from one of stress to one of anger. “Right there.”

  Giles nodded solemnly. “We’ve just this second discovered her,” he told her quickly. “I was . . . er . . . about to give you a call so you wouldn’t worry.”

  Paige’s expression changed to one of exasperation. She took a moment, and Giles could hear Maya just off camera. Then he heard her giggling.

  “It’s not funny,” Paige hissed at her. “She was our responsibility . . . and how are we meant to keep her safe now? You know how Giles operates!”

  Maya said something, and then Paige looked back at the camera, remembering he was right there. “Shit. Sorry. No offense, Giles.”

  She looked about to try and dig herself out of the hole, but Giles shook his head in dismay at the situation. “None taken,” he said. “We were just saying the same thing.”

  Paige looked conflicted now. “I . . . I don’t know what to do. Do you want to bring her back?”

  Arlene turned around and intervened. “No. It’ll only delay us, and I don’t want to risk getting caught babysitting on Gaitune when Molly finds out.”

  She paused, and Giles looked at her, almost pleased for her input and direction.

  “We’ll carry on,” she concluded. “We’ll keep her safe.”

  Paige’s face relaxed a touch. “Well, if you’re sure,” she said, feeling like her hands were tied.

  Arlene looked definitively at Giles. “Yep. We’re sure. We’ll take care of it.”

  Anne turned and glared at Arlene for her use of the word ‘it’, which was clearly referring to the issue and not her. But still.

  Partially satisfied, Paige and Giles signed off from the call.

  Without another word on the matter, Giles moved straight on. “Ok, Scamp, let’s try this again. Please call the Empress.”

  He held his breath trying to figure out how to broach the subject—as if the crew didn’t have enough to contend with.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Aboard the Scamp Princess, Ferrai Quadrant

  The Scamp Princess slipped out of the gate and arrived in brand new territory. Even Giles was unfamiliar with this particular quadrant they’d found themselves drawn to.

  Arlene marveled at the unfamiliar constellations. “Wow . . .” The word inadvertently escaped her lips under the power of her exhale.

  Anne was stoically in awe too, her eyes fixed on the main screen.

  Giles peered up over his glasses, his instruments forgotten and his hands hovering over switches, his mind forgetting what he was doing. “It’s certainly quite different over here,” he said, understating the awe he was experiencing.

  Arlene noticed and smiled, glancing at him sideways. “Looks like we’re not in Kansas anymore,” she jested, hoping Giles would get the reference from his own culture’s mythology.

  He nodded but left his attention on the view of the new corner of the galaxy.

  Straight ahead of them, azurian blue cascades striped the blackness of space. Off to one side, there were a number of exploding supernovas, close enough to see but not close enough for them to be in danger any time soon.

  Down below them, there were dust clouds illuminated by the radiation from the cascades and the dying star, and all around them, the universe seemed to hum in a spectacular harmony of life and destruction.

  “It’s so . . . Beautiful,” Arlene breathed, finally bringing herself to put words to what they were witnessing.

  “Indeed,” Giles agreed, finding his fingers and confirming the on-screen actions Scamp was taking to set them into orbit.

  Anne turned her head to see Giles. “Where are we going now?” she asked.

  Giles scanned the display with his eyes, searching for the needle in the galactic bonanza. He pointed with his finger. “Right there,” he told her.

  Beneath his finger on the screen was a tiny spec.

  “Scamp, please do a full scan of our planet of destination and put the results on-screen.”

  “Processing,” Scamp responded.

  Anne’s face lit up, thrilled to be seeing space and to be out on an
adventure. She was even more thrilled that it was so spectacular. Her two guardians shared her youthful expression of awe though, despite their aptitude for cynicism and jadedness they’d developed over the years.

  Scamp pulled up an overlay on top of the image of the system they were approaching.

  “Planet Mallifrax-8, originally known to the ancients as Gaumix. Formerly home to the Essiehkor Kurtherian tribe, long before they evolved and became the race we know of today.”

  Giles and Arlene exchanged concerned glances, each conveying that this was news to them.

  “Tom’s race,” Giles muttered.

  Arlene nodded.

  Scamp continued with his results briefing, explaining the planet’s terrain, air composition, climate, and weather patterns. “Due to its high density of etheriam, it has, in the last decade, been colonized by the Queegert in order to extract the ore and sell it on the local techtropolis.”

  Arlene was now standing behind Anne and Giles, her hands on her hips, taking it all in.

  “The major colony is run by a mining outfit and is designated, MacKegan, after the family-run business that established it. But although this is a major socio-political force according to an analysis of their broadcasting stations and communications, it appears that it is technically governed by a monarchy.”

  Giles had leaned forward on his console, his chin resting in his hand. “Show us more about the monarchy,” he instructed.

  Scamp processed the request.

  Giles turned to Arlene. “If the monarchy is weak, that might give us an in . . .”

  Arlene nodded. “Plus, under Queegert law, any permissions to land or operate on one of their colonies needs to be directed through the throne.”

  Giles pursed his lips. “True.”

  Scamp pulled up a new screen. “The monarchy here is referred to as ‘The Crown’. It operates under a democracy of governance, but then all final major planetary decisions are directed by The Crown. The Crown also has the power of veto on anything passed by the democratic republic under its rule.”

  Giles sat back in his seat. “Well, that makes things a little more complex, but we’ll have to see what it means in practice when we get down there. Scamp, have a meeting set up with whomever their highest representative is.”

 

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