Agent Prime

by Jake Bible

  “Then we are stuck,” Pol said.

  “Do you have anyone you trust? A contact that can arrange transport?” Sno asked.

  “No,” Pol replied flatly. “I haven’t had anyone in my life that I can trust like that in a very long time. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be in the position I’m in.”

  “I needed to ask,” Sno said.

  Pol returned his attention to the lake and the two men watched the pleasure boats tack back and forth, leaving brilliant trails of light behind them. Some of the boats had set up holo effects so that images danced in their wakes. Sno loved the evening show that the lake became. It had always been a favorite part of his childhood.

  “Dessert,” Veben announced.

  Sno turned away from the view and smiled as he watched the woman place three plates of cheesecake onto the table.

  “Too good for you to refuse,” Veben stated.

  Sno wasn’t going to argue. He knew he’d lose.

  He put out his cigar and returned to the table. Pol was already in his seat, having nearly sprinted to the table, his eyes drooling over the slice of cheesecake before him.

  “I remember the first time I ever tried TLonga Squid cheesecake,” Veben said. “This had to be half a century ago.”

  “Couldn’t be,” Pol said around a mouthful of dessert. “You weren’t even born then.”

  “Points to you, Mr. Hammon,” Veben said.

  “Pol.”

  “Pol.”

  Sno rolled his eyes.

  “Stop that, love,” Veben said, swatting at Sno. “Let an old woman have her moment.”

  “You were saying something about the first time you had TLonga Squid cheesecake…?” Sno prompted.

  “Oh, yes, of course,” Veben said and cleared her throat. “I was on a luxury liner, I believe we were heading to the Havlov System to view the gas planets.”

  “Oh, the Havlov System is magical when the planets align,” Pol said.

  “So very true,” Veben said and giggled like a teenager. She shot Sno a look before he could roll his eyes again. “As I was saying, we were on a luxury liner and it was our night to dine with the captain. He insisted that the dessert be TLonga Squid cheesecake that night. Now, mind you, I was well educated on fine dining by that point in my life, but I had never heard of TLonga Squid being used for anything other than savory dishes. I was a little afraid.”

  “Which luxury liner?” Sno asked suddenly, giving Veben a start.

  “Which? Oh, love, I cannot remember that detail. All those liners run together in my memory. Only reason this one stands out is because that TLonga Squid cheesecake was divine. I ended up loving it so much that I insisted on thanking the captain personally for bringing such a dessert into my life.” She leaned conspiratorially towards Pol. “I thanked him for the rest of the night and most of the next morning.”

  “I am sure you did,” Pol said. “How lucky for that captain.”

  “What do you know about luxury liners today?” Sno asked.

  Veben and Pol blinked at him a few times.

  “I’m serious,” Sno continued. “Luxury liners. I’ve never been on one.”

  “Denman’s family owned their own fleet of luxury vessels at one point in time,” Veben explained to Pol. “Traveling with the public would have been inconvenient.”

  “V, stop making me sound spoiled. You and I both know my childhood was the complete opposite,” Sno said curtly. “So, enough with the commentary and answer my question. What do you know of today’s luxury liners?”

  “Most are a complete waste of credits,” Veben said after a couple of seconds’ hesitation. “But there are some that are worth every last credit. A couple that go above and beyond. Why do you ask?”

  “Any that you know of that may cater to a clientele that insists on discretion, and shall we say, complete and total security?” Sno asked.

  Understanding dawned on Veben’s face. “Yes. There are three of those that come to mind. Two of them will fit perfectly with what you are thinking.”

  “I believe you have found our transportation solution,” Pol said. “Hide in plain sight, is it?”

  “It is,” Sno said. “Even the Skrang won’t attack a civilian luxury liner.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Veben asked with disgust. “Skrang do not have limits when it comes to brutality.”

  “Neither do I,” Sno said. “But the Skrang won’t try an overt attack on a luxury liner, especially if it’s carrying clientele that even the Skrang must rely on to function in the galaxy.”

  “Masters and mistresses of industry make their own rules,” Pol said.

  “Something like that,” Sno said. He waved his hand across his wrist. “Ledora?”

  “Yes, Agent Prime?” Ledora replied.

  “We’re going on a trip,” Sno said as he stood up. “I’m going to need two tickets—”

  “Three,” Veben said.

  Sno paused and stared at the woman. Veben sighed.

  “A young man, that many in the galaxy know as Agent Prime, arrives on a luxury liner with an old man, however charming that old man may be, will attract attention and build suspicion,” Veben said.

  “Then we book separately,” Sno said. Veben shook her head. “Why not?”

  “Pol will need to be watched around the clock, even on a luxury liner with top of the galaxy security,” Veben said. “Were you planning on watching him all by yourself? You’d need to stay locked in your cabin the entire time to do that. Which will attract even more attention and suspicion. Especially from the crew. And they will be the weak link in the security. I am sure they are paid well, but someone out there will pay more for good intel.”

  “What are you proposing, V?” Sno asked.

  “That I accompany you both,” Veben said. “Better yet, that Pol and I pretend to be a couple on our anniversary trip. You can book separately and keep an eye on our safety, but I will be the one to make sure Pol is watched day and night.”

  “How kind of you,” Pol said, placing his hand on Veben’s.

  She enveloped his hand with her other and gave him an innocent smile.

  “It is the least I can do,” Veben said.

  Sno’s eye roll could have been seen from orbit.

  15.

  It took two days to book passage on a luxury liner that fit Sno’s needs.

  “Ledora?” Sno called.

  “Yes, Agent Prime?” Ledora responded over the comm.

  “Triple check the aliases,” Sno ordered. “I want them as tight as possible.”

  “I have tripled checked them, Agent Prime,” Ledora replied. “It would take a considerable amount of effort to breach the false identities the three of you will be traveling under. However, I highly doubt that the identities will hold up once you are amongst other beings. The reality is, Agent Prime, one of you will be recognized.”

  “We only need them to board,” Sno replied. “I’ll handle things once we are on the liner.”

  “Do you want me to still—?”

  “Triple check again,” Sno said.

  “I have.”

  “Humor me,” Sno insisted as he finished packing his bags.

  “The identities have been checked again,” Ledora replied almost immediately. “Facial recognition protocols will connect to your new identities. The only way you can be recognized, as I have said, is by an in-person meeting with someone that knows your face.”

  “And what about Pol Hammon?” Sno asked as he closed and locked his luggage then began the task of securing weapons to his person.

  Luxury liners had a very strict no weapons policy. But, unlike a planet such as Egthak, enforcement was lax. Telling a gajillionaire that they can’t bring their favorite plasma pistol or laser blaster on board a galactic cruise where the tickets cost more than most galactic beings make in their lifetimes, presents certain customer relations issues.

  Simply put: the grotesquely rich make their own rules in the galaxy, as they always have throughout every
single civilizations’ histories.

  Sno strapped the Defta Stinger in a holster on his right calf. The holster instantly formed to the shape of his calf then smoothed out so there was no visible bulge in the trouser leg. He strapped a Keplar knife, a weapon that used energy instead of steel alloy for its blade, to the back of his belt, setting it sideways so it was easier to grab and also so it had less of an outline. Then he took a sharpened piece of metal he called his “In Case Blade” and slid that inside a specially concealed slit in the back of his waistband. Someone could take his Keplar off him, but they’d miss the In Case Blade.

  Sno thought about additional weapons, perhaps a Blorta 22 laser pistol or a T&G blunt, but he didn’t want to alarm security if they decided he was targeted for a good frisk. Sno was used to being targeted for frisks. He carried himself a certain way that made security nervous, no matter how much he tried to act casual. Unlike his Defta Stinger, Sno’s lifetime worth of training was impossible for him to conceal.

  “Ship service is here, love,” Veben said as Sno’s bedroom doors slid aside and she came walking in, looking incredibly elegant.

  Sno smiled and glanced down at his white shirt, cuffs rolled up, and black trousers. It was a classic look, but no one was going to turn their head to watch him go by. Veben, on the other hand, was going to draw a good amount of attention with the plunging neckline of her blouse and the form-fitting cut of her ankle-length skirt.

  “Not very subtle,” Sno said.

  “Love, you grew up in this world,” Veben said. “And I have lived inside, as well as adjacent, to the scene for a good part of my life. We both know that if you do not make a proper entrance, then you will be spending most of your social time in a dreary stateroom.”

  “I highly doubt any of the staterooms on this liner are dreary,” Sno said. “The GS M’illi’ped, correct?”

  “Correct,” Veben said. “Do you know its reputation?”

  “Does it have one?” Sno asked.

  “Oh, love, we need to get you out more,” Veben said and laughed. “This job of yours is sheltering you. The GS M’illi’ped is known for its amazing ability to match singles into lifelong pairings. Marriage, permanent affairs, relationships of convenience, the M’illi’ped is where the rich go to find that special someone.”

  “You booked us on a singles cruise?” Sno asked.

  “Oh, all the Heavens no,” Veben said, shocked. “How droll. There will be plenty of couples aboard, as well as singles not looking for romantic entanglements. It just so happens that the M’illi’ped has a knack for bringing together those that want to be brought together. Convenient, yes?”

  “Convenient? How so?” Sno asked.

  “Once your true identity is discovered, which it will be, as we both know,” Veben said.

  Sno nodded reluctantly.

  “Yes, once that occurs, there will be female beings lining up to meet the infamous Agent Prime,” Veben continued. “But the crew of the M’illi’ped will be prepared to make sure that only those with true intentions make it to your table. The thrill-seekers will be weeded out immediately.”

  “I fail to see how this is convenient,” Sno said.

  Veben sighed. “How you do your job sometimes, I wonder.”

  “V,” Sno grumbled.

  “Counter agents will be part of the group that makes it to your table, love,” Veben said in a voice that made condescending an understatement. “The enemy will be delivered to you, love. They will not be waiting in the shadows of your stateroom, but seated at your elbow during dinner. Perhaps across from you in the lounge for drinks. Maybe in the spa after a massage. No need to look over your shoulder, love. The threat will be in sight almost from the moment you step on board.”

  “We hope,” Sno said. “A good operative won’t want to make themselves known.”

  “A better operative will,” Veben said. “Trust me, love. I have a lot more experience in this galaxy than you do.”

  “We’ll see,” Sno said.

  “A friendly wager?” Veben’s eyebrows raised. Sno chuckled.

  “I know better than to make a wager with you, V,” he replied. “If you feel confident enough to bet on it, then I’ll trust your judgment.”

  “Always wise, love,” Veben said. Her wrist chimed. “The ship is waiting. Are you ready?”

  “I am,” Sno said and snapped his fingers as he waved his wrist over his luggage. Carry bots appeared from hatches in the walls and fetched the bags. “Pol?”

  “Is already on the ship, I suspect,” Veben said. “He was very eager this morning to get going.”

  She gave Sno a knowing smile and he didn’t press for details.

  Veben was right, Pol was already onboard the ship that was waiting on the landing pad. He had a drink in his hand, his seat tilted back, and his feet up on a small table set before him. He raised his glass at Sno and gave Veben a wink as they were shown to their seats by an attendant bot.

  “Refreshments?” the bot asked.

  “No, thank you,” Sno said. “A little early for me.”

  “I’ll have a Bloody Mary,” Veben said. “Juice, not real blood, please.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the bot said and whirred off to a small wet bar set in the back of the ship.

  Sno looked around and shook his head.

  “Does the ostentation make you uncomfortable, Sno?” Pol asked. “I thought you’d feel at home.”

  “Denman Sno has never felt at home with his heritage,” Veben said as the bot returned with her Bloody Mary. “The man has enough wealth to never work a day in his life yet he chooses to be a…” She feigned a sickened cough. “A…civil servant.”

  “We all have our duties to fulfill, V,” Sno said, his voice sounding bored with a topic that Veben never tired of bringing up.

  “Well, it leaves your home unoccupied for most of the year, so I guess I should thank you,” she said as she sipped her Bloody Mary again. “This is not juice.” She shrugged, but didn’t stop sipping at the drink.

  “Identities,” Sno said and waved his hand across his wrist as the ship took off and angled steeply for the orbital exit. Grav dampeners kicked in as the ship accelerated, and Sno only swayed a little as a holo was projected from his wrist.

  “Not a very good picture of me, is it?” Pol said as his new identity was listed and the holo of him turned a full 360 degrees. “Mahjul Talpic? From…Bax? Bax? The swamp planet?”

  “You created technology that harvests the swamp gases and concentrates them into portable fuel pellets that can be used by almost any vehicle in the galaxy, if needed,” Sno said as he scrolled through Pol’s identity. “Your tech was used covertly during the War and made you more money than ten generations of ancestors can spend.”

  “Do I have ancestors?” Pol asked.

  “Sadly, no,” Veben said as she aimed her wrist at Sno and took the holo from him. Her new identity came up. “Vertuna C’alpescue. Widow and heiress. I inherited a God’s fortune when my parents passed then another God’s fortune when my wife passed a decade later.”

  “C’alpescue?” Sno asked. “That’s a real family, V. They have an estate on the other side of Nab. Near the Triangle Barrier Lakes. People will know that name.”

  “And I know the family,” Veben said. “Intimately, love. They have thousands of cousins spread across the galaxy. No one will bat an orb at another C’alpescue showing up on a luxury liner. I’ll slip through almost unnoticed.”

  “Oh, I doubt that,” Pol said and raised his glass to her.

  “Differ Shaw,” Sno said as his identity came up. “Several trillion credits made at the end of the War when surplus needed to be offloaded fast so that accounting irregularities on the GF’s books wouldn’t raise any red flags. Funds that may have been allocated to unofficial channels during the War were returned, no questions asked. Shaw took his piece of those funds and was set for life.”

  “How long do you expect the identity to hold?” Pol asked.

  “For
the majority of passengers, it will hold for the entire trip,” Sno said. “Only those specifically on the lookout for me will see through the guise.”

  “And if they are looking for you that means they are looking for me,” Pol said. “So, how long do we have?”

  “A galactic day, maybe two,” Sno said. “It’ll take a week to arrive at the destination then another three days before the liner drops some of its passengers off in Bal’stuan System. The new GF main headquarters sits next to the Bal’stuan Nebula. That is our final destination.”

  “Ten galactic days?” Pol asked, shocked. “That is a long time for me to be exposed, Sno. I could have us there within…”

  Pol trailed off. Veben raised an eyebrow, but Sno only shook his head.

  “None of that,” Sno ordered. “No tech superiority bragging while we are traveling.”

  “Isn’t my identity someone that would have a massive ego due to the tech that I developed?” Pol asked. “You cannot expect me to stop being me only because I have a new name.”

  “What I expect is for you to keep a low profile,” Sno said. “Veben will be at your side to ensure you maintain that low profile. Two galactic elders on a luxury cruise, both hoping to bring back that romantic spark that they’ve each been missing in their lives.”

  The glares Sno received from Veben and Pol made him laugh.

  “The story is part of the cover,” Sno said. “Don’t blame me.”

  “Galactic elders indeed,” Veben said and downed her drink. She held up the glass. Within a second, the bot arrived with a fresh drink and took the empty away. “And, Mr. Differ Shaw, what are your romantic goals for the cruise? No one steps onto the GS M’illi’ped with solitary intentions, love. Even if you are found out to be Agent Prime, you’ll need to still blend in for the rubes. Blending in means romance, love.”

  “I can handle the burden of the cover,” Sno said, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

  “Oh, I am sure you can, love,” Veben said, holding her drink up. “Cheers.”

  “Cheers,” Pol said and clinked his glass to hers.

  Sno nodded and smiled then eased back into his seat. He closed his eyes and prepared himself for the mission ahead.