Agent Prime

by Jake Bible

  Osol was waiting there with a small roller with Pol already seated in back.

  “Hello,” Pol said warmly. “How are you? It sounds like you didn’t fare as well as we did. Caught a talon to the shoulder.”

  “Are you well, Mr. Shaw?” Osol asked, his face pale and wan. “I am so sorry this happened. If we weren’t already moving through trans-space, I am sure the captain would have postponed the trip so the GF could come—”

  “That’s enough, Osol,” J’gorla said. “Please transport Mr. Shaw, Ms. C’alpescue, and Mr. Talpic to my office. Do not stop along the way and do not engage in conversation with our…guests. Drive the roller.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Osol said, looking thoroughly chastised.

  “You aren’t riding with us?” Sno asked.

  “I’m going to look at the other stateroom first,” J’gorla replied. “I’ll meet you there.”

  “Please be gentle with my delicates, Investigator,” Veben said. “Try not to mix them up. I have an ordered system for my underthings.”

  J’gorla did not laugh or smile.

  “Well, that fell flat,” Veben said as Osol spun the roller around and headed for the lift. “She’s not one for breaking tension with some light humor, is she?”

  “Investigator J’gorla doesn’t like jokes, ma’am,” Osol said. He drove the roller into the lift and stared at the rear facing doors.

  “It’s fine, Osol,” Sno said. “We won’t tell the investigator that you disobeyed and started speaking to us. In fact, I believe you may be able to answer a few questions I have.”

  “I would love to, Mr. Shaw, but Investigator J’gorla could have me fired,” Osol said. The lift dinged and Osol waited for the rear doors to slide open. He drove the roller out into a sterile-looking corridor. Completely different than the elaborate decor of the other corridors. “It would be better if I did as told and simply drove you to her offices.”

  “I can see why she lacks a sense of humor,” Veben said, studying the drab corridor. “I’d never laugh again if this was where I had to work.”

  “The crew and personnel areas are not decorated like the rest of the ship,” Osol said. “Beauty is reserved for our guests, as the captain says.”

  “The captain,” Sno mused. “Experienced fellow?”

  “Captain Loch? Oh, he has been the Mip’s captain for over two decades now, I believe,” Osol said.

  “Captain Look?” Sno asked.

  “Yes, but spelled with a CH,” Osol stated. “One O. More like lock, but pronounced look.”

  “Of course,” Sno said.

  He’d grown up around beings that stood at the periphery of the wealthy elite. They tried their hardest to fit in, but they never would. Even if they insisted on the most pretentious pronunciation of their name. Look, indeed.

  The roller continued down the corridor and Sno glanced over at Pol.

  “Tcherians?” Sno asked.

  “Yes,” Pol replied.

  “And…?” Sno pressed.

  “And…what?” Pol responded.

  “Why specifically would two Tcherian assassins be after us? Why use them?” Sno asked.

  “How should I know? You’re the professional here, Sn—”

  “Shaw,” Sno interrupted.

  “Shaw. I was going to say that. I know your name,” Pol replied. “As for why Tcherians were used, I do not know. No reason that I can think of.”

  “One killer is as good as another, love,” Veben said. “Does it matter?”

  “It matters when they aren’t very good at their jobs,” Sno said. “Those were amateurs.”

  “One nearly killed you, love,” Veben said.

  “Not hardly,” Sno replied. “A lucky talon strike is all. If the Tcherians were professionals, they would have remained hidden and observed us for a while before striking. Mine came at me as soon as I stepped through the doors. That’s a nervous attack born of fear. He wanted the job done fast so he could escape.”

  “The ship had already moved to enter the wormhole portal, sir,” Osol said. “Where would they escape to?”

  “That, Osol, is an excellent question,” Sno said. “It would make me believe that the attempted killers have co-conspirators still on this ship. Most likely members of the crew.”

  Sno watched Osol’s body language carefully. The young man appeared upset by that theory, but he didn’t twitch and fidget like half of the guilty do when found out. He also didn’t go rigid like the other half of guilty parties do. Sno assumed for the moment that Osol wasn’t part of the conspiracy to kill him and the other two. Which brought up an interesting thought.

  “Why kill you?” Sno asked, looking at Veben and Pol. “Killing me, sure. Killing you?” Sno’s eyes focused on Pol. “Defeats the purpose, doesn’t it?”

  “Perhaps,” Pol said and glanced at Osol.

  “A conversation for another time,” Veben said.

  “Of course,” Sno agreed.

  “Here we are,” Osol said, sounding relieved as he brought the roller to a stop in front of a set of plain, office doors. “Investigator J’gorla will be with you shortly. I am sure you will hear from Captain Loch soon, as well. Again, on behalf of the GS M’illi’ped, I apologize for the incident. I will have a new stateroom ready for you as soon as Investigator J’gorla is finished with her questions.”

  “Thank you, Osol, much appreciated,” Veben said as Sno helped her from the roller. “Oh, and Osol?”

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  “Will you make sure our new stateroom has a security guard in place the entire time we are gone? I’d hate for a repeat attempt to be made because of simple opportunity.”

  “I will protect the room myself, if I have to, ma’am,” Osol said.

  “You are too kind,” Veben said and gave him a little wave as he reversed the roller, turned, and headed back to the lift. “A lovely boy. I do hope that he isn’t harmed during our travel.”

  “Harmed? Why would he be harmed?” Pol asked.

  “Veben is referring to the fact that those around me tend to come to harm at some point in their lives,” Sno said. “Isn’t that what you are saying, V?”

  “Not everyone is cut out for the excitement, Agent Prime,” Veben said and nodded at the office doors. “Will someone open those for me or must I open them myself? Murder attempts do not strip us of manners, gentlemen.”

  Sno opened the doors.

  The office was as stark as the corridor outside. The entry room was small, with two nice, but certainly not expensive, chairs against the wall. A single desk sat against the opposite wall just enough room for a chair behind it. The chair was unoccupied, so Sno gestured for Veben and Pol to take a seat. Sno positioned himself close to the doors and leaned back against the wall.

  There was only one other door in the room and Sno’s eyes locked onto it. If he concentrated, he thought he could hear movement coming from the other side of the door. He wasn’t surprised when it finally opened and who he assumed was the receptionist, or possibly J’gorla’s assistant, came into the entry room.

  What Sno was surprised by was the receptionist/assistant was neither human nor any other galactic being.

  “What?” the android snapped as electronic eyes turned to regard Sno. “You one of those bigots that hate AIs?”

  “Not at all,” Sno said with a smile. “Just wasn’t expecting an android on a luxury liner. Not one that obviously was a battle model back in the War.”

  “You think you can judge the book inside me by my cover, that it, pal?” the android said as it took a seat behind the desk. “Get over yourself, will ya? You don’t know me, so keep your opinions bottled up inside that meat locker of a skull.”

  The android was humanoid with two arms, two legs, and a basic body structure. Its synthetic skin was as generic beige as beige could get. The lighting in the office gave the skin a sickly, tacky look to it.

  “Plucky,” Veben said. “Are you a he or she? Your voice pattern sounds male, but I hate to assume
.”

  “I’m sure that’s something you don’t hate at all,” the android replied. “And I’m an it. A machine. I don’t have a dongle or a woohoo, none of that reproductive crap, so assigning me a gender only makes your life easier. I have no interest in making your life easier, lady. So, how about you sit there quietly while I work and we wait for Investigator J’gorla to return? Can you handle that? Or do I need to fetch you some tea and scones to occupy that trap of yours?”

  Veben stared at the android for a second then turned and looked at Sno.

  “I think you’ve met your match, V,” Sno said.

  “It appears so,” Veben responded then smoothed her blouse and returned her gaze to the android. “Tea and scones would be lovely. Thank you.”

  “What?” the android asked.

  “You offered to get us tea and scones,” Veben said matter-of-factly. “I could do with some refreshment after our ordeals. Any tea would will be fine, but please, no fruit scones. I never know what fruit the cooks will use and most make me gassy.”

  “Are you kidding me with this shit?” the android asked. “I was being sarcastic.”

  “Well, then maybe you should be more careful with your wit, Mr.…?”

  “Ested. And no mister to it. I’m an android, lady. The GF barely allows us to exist. They sure as shit don’t allow us to be misters or misses or anything like that. You can call me Ested and leave it at that, alright? We clear on names here? Or do I need to make tags we can wear on our chests like salesbeings at a fucking business convention?”

  “Ested is now my favorite crew member,” Veben said. “I would like to state that for the record.”

  “Still not getting you tea or Eight Million Gods damn scones, lady.”

  “I’d think less of you if you did.”

  “Any idea when J’gorla will be here?” Sno asked, waving his hand over his wrist to check his chrono. “I’d like to be able to take a steam before dinner.”

  “You’ll get to clean up, pretty boy,” Ested said. “Don’t get your ten million credit boxers in a twist.”

  “I should be recording this,” Veben said.

  “Don’t you fucking dare,” Ested snapped.

  “XN-357, yes?” Pol asked.

  All eyes turned to him.

  “Grandpa speaks,” Ested said. “And yeah, that’s my original model number. Had a few upgrades along the way, so not exactly stock anymore.”

  “Surveillance and extraction were your primary duties, if I am not mistaken,” Pol continued.

  “Oooh, someone’s read a book,” Ested said.

  “I designed your power cells,” Pol said.

  Ested’s face was blank, but its lack of response told everyone that statement had struck a chord.

  “Have you upgraded your power cells since manufacture?” Pol asked. “If you have, then that might explain the surly personality.”

  “Suck a B’clo’no’s vent,” Ested replied.

  “Yes, well, a simple adjustment can take care of—”

  “I haven’t touched my power cells,” Ested said. “Have you stuck your hand inside your ribcage, old man, and messed with your heart and lungs?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes,” Pol said. “But I would not recommend it.”

  Ested blinked dramatically. Androids didn’t need to blink. Sno wondered why they even had eyelids at all. Probably to simulate sleep and not freak out living beings.

  “So the winning personality is normal,” Sno said. “You must be great at crew parties.”

  “I end up mixing the drinks at crew parties,” Ested said. “Because that’s what androids are good for.”

  “How many missions did you complete in the War?” Pol asked.

  “What?” Ested responded, raising a synthetic eyebrow and looking at Sno. “Is this guy for real?”

  “Unfortunately,” Sno said.

  “Seven hundred and fourteen,” Ested said. “Not that the GF cared when the War was done. All combat experience was stripped from my database and any memories I may have had from those missions was wiped once uploaded to the GF mainframe. Ask anything you want, I can’t tell you shit about what I specifically did in the War. Nothing like having a black hole in the middle of your memory. Fun shit.”

  “I can fix that issue for you,” Pol said.

  “Mr. Talpic,” Sno said firmly. “That is not why we are here.”

  “Can you fix it so I don’t have to listen to any of you speak? Or do I need to take a spandriver and jam it into my aural pathways?” Ested asked.

  The doors opened before anyone could respond. Sno’s stance immediately went into a defensive posture then relaxed as Investigator J’gorla walked into the office.

  “Uh oh,” Ested said. “Our guest has training.”

  J’gorla glanced at Sno for a moment then she shook her head and waved towards the door next to Ested’s desk.

  “Come on,” she said. “I hope Ested didn’t offend you too much. Can’t find a tech to fix its personality glitch.”

  “That’s because it’s not a glitch,” Pol and Ested said at the same time. Except Ested added “asshole” to the end of its sentence.

  J’gorla ignored the statement.

  “Come on,” she insisted. “I want to finish the interview before Captain Loch arrives. He’ll whisk you away and try to dazzle you with tours of the bridge and promises of preferential treatment for the rest of your journey. Once he takes you away from me, our interactions will pretty much come to an end.”

  “Had this happen before, have you?” Sno asked as he followed J’gorla into her office.

  “Not quite this same issue, obviously, but close enough that I know the captain has already been briefed by Legal on how much to spend in order to keep this from getting out to the rest of the passengers,” J’gorla replied.

  “It was a pleasure to meet you, Ested,” Veben said as she and Pol followed Sno into J’gorla’s office.

  “Eat my spent lubricant, lady,” Ested said just before the office doors closed.

  19.

  Investigator J’gorla went through the motions of having Sno repeat his ordeal for the official record. She took notes which amused Sno since he was positive she was also recording the interviews. She nodded at the right times then leaned back in her chair and frowned once Sno finished.

  “On behalf of the GS M’illi’ped, I humbly apologize for this matter. We can assure you that it will not occur again and all security measures are in place to protect all three of you while you journey with us on the GS M’illi’ped,” J’gorla stated. “My professional assessment is two amateur thieves were caught in the act and you stopped them. If there are more aboard, I will find them.”

  “Thieves?” Sno laughed. “Stealing from staterooms where occupants haven’t finished unpacking? They jumped the gun a bit, even for amateurs.”

  “It is an opinion and can change as new facts come to light,” J’gorla said sourly.

  “Of course,” Sno said.

  “Is that all?” Veben asked.

  “That is all,” J’gorla said.

  “You do not want to hear what happened to myself and Mr. Talpic?” Veben pressed.

  “Is there anything you care to add beyond what you have already stated?” J’gorla responded. Veben shook her head. “Then our time here is done. I’ll be looking into the matter on my end, but there is no reason any of this should concern you further.”

  “I’d like to speak with the Tcherian in the brig,” Sno said.

  “No,” J’gorla replied.

  The two beings stared hard at each other then Sno nodded.

  “Of course,” Sno said. “We’ll leave you to it then.”

  “Again, my apologies,” J’gorla said.

  “Apologies accepted,” Sno said and gestured to Veben and Pol. “Time to go, folks.”

  Veben and Pol stood up and walked out of the office. Ested could be heard sighing with exasperation when they stepped through the office door and into the entry ro
om. Sno didn’t follow right away. He paused and eyed J’gorla.

  “I get it,” Sno said.

  “What’s that?” J’gorla asked.

  “On a ship like this, with the clientele that you have, investigations are not high priorities,” Sno said. “Security, yes, but investigations, no. Those tend to turn up answers to questions best not asked. I have no idea how you got this job, but you have my sympathies, Investigator J’gorla.”

  J’gorla blinked a few times then nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Shaw. I appreciate that.”

  “Before I go, can you tell me who is in charge of security for the Mip?” Sno asked. “I’d like to have a word with him or her.”

  “I’m afraid I cannot do that,” J’gorla said, looking honestly sorry. “You are welcome to ask the captain; answering that question is up to his discretion. But our Head of Security remains anonymous so that he or she can do his or her job effectively without passenger interference.”

  “Of course,” Sno said and gave a quick bow of his head. “If you have any more questions, you know where to find me.”

  J’gorla didn’t offer the same courtesy in return so Sno smiled and left.

  “Ested, a pleasure,” Sno said as he walked to the doors.

  “You wish,” Ested said.

  Sno chuckled as he exited the offices and joined Veben and Pol in the corridor. The lift doors at the end of the corridor were opening, and Sno could see Osol and the roller about to disembark.

  “We’re not going to get any answers out of that show back there. J’gorla has been shut down,” Sno said. “Which tells me that either someone in security or someone in the command crew is in on this. I plan on finding the answer to that before the night is out.”

  “That would be lovely,” Veben said. “A week of uncertainty will not be good for my complexion.”

  “You didn’t have to come, V,” Sno said.

  “Lovely boy,” Veben said and patted Sno on the cheek as Osol pulled up with the roller.

  “I do hope that experience was not too taxing,” Osol said when the three stepped onto the roller and sat down. “The captain has requested a meeting with all of you.”

  “Once I can get cleaned up,” Sno said.