by James Cox
The uneven ride of a fast-moving hover woke Micah. He hurt in sundry places but no worse than he had before. Of greater concern: what happened and how to escape.
"What happened?"
"Our guests arrived not long after you left," said Ferrel, "They swept the room with stunners. Lorna and I succumbed. Once they had us shackled they convinced us to be awake."
"W-what he said," said Gallaway when Micah looked at her.
Micah looked toward the cab of the hover. It had a small window but it and the wall between were both armored. Even if he could escape the shackles he had no way to breach that barrier.
"Slib," said Gallaway after a while, "You two aren't CA. Just who are you?"
"Best not to ask," said Ferrel, "Just plead ignorance as hard as you can."
After another silence he nudged Micah's foot.
"Carl. Am I hallucinating or are we on a high-fast."
"We are." Micah checked his chrono. "We're also well away from Hibson, even at standard travel."
"Is that important," asked Gallaway.
"Possibly," replied Micah, "Wherever we're going, it isn't close."
A change in the engine's pitch roused Micah. The hover rocked and woke Ferrel. Gallaway still slept. When the hover stopped and settled she awakened. Micah set about tensing and relaxing his muscles, preparing for what action he could execute.
The back doors opened and harsh, actinic light flashed into the compartment. It died a second later and left Micah blinking around the spots. The CA knew its job; they had plenty of time to pull him out, march him forward and strap him to a chair. By the sound of things they treated Ferrel and Gallaway similarly.
"Hello."
Micah's vision cleared to s curious scene. The three of them sat in a small, dimly-lit clearing. Off to one side sat a hovervan, two standard hovers and a cycle, all belonging to the CA. Seven CA officers lounged there, pointedly ignoring them. On the other side of the clearing sat a battered hover with no markings whatsoever.
In front of Micah stood a youngish man with an unkempt mass of hair. He stooped a bit and moved his hands nervously into and out of his pockets. Several soda bulbs littered the ground and he had a half-eaten package of nibblers in his front pocket.
"Hello," said Micah.
"Who is the Burner and who is the Bully?"
"Pardon," asked Ferrel.
The man rolled his eyes, looked at Gallaway then looked at Ferrel.
"Vid, nubb. I know who you are. One of you is a decent burner and one fights like a sandslasher. Which is who?"
"I suppose I'm Burner," said Ferrel cautiously.
"Archived." He looked at Gallaway. "Are you Lorna Gallaway?"
"Yes I am. I do not know these people and I demand to be released. I have committed no crimes and am in fact the victim of kidnapping, assault, coercion and several other crimes. You have no cause to hold me and I, WE, have rights in this situation! I shall represent these gentlemen for any crimes of which you may accuse them."
The man looked at her then angled his head to look at her again.
"Nak. Nak. I can't do that. You will not be released. Nak."
Gallaway drew a breath to continue.
"UNPLUG!!"
Shocked, she fell silent.
The man paced a bit. "I guess you can call me Ivan. That's polar." He paced some more and turned to Ferrel. "It's like this. I can help you get Robin Macy. I know where she is and I can help you get there."
"Slib," said Ferrel, "If we're interested."
Ivan stopped pacing and looked at Ferrel several ways.
"Doof plus-plus. Of course you're interested. You tracked her since Tolgos' Bridge and maybe before and you were on Salva Secore together and maybe longer. She was with you and now she'd not. Of course you're interested."
"Maybe we're interested in who she's with," said Micah mildly.
Ivan looked at Micah, wrinkled his face and looked back at Ferrel.
"I know who they are. I know who they are and where they are and who they work for."
"And that would be," prompted Ferrel.
Ivan licked his lips. Then he scratched his head and tried to smooth down the hair. Then he looked at Gallaway again.
No, corrected Micah, he almost-looked! He avoided her eyes, her legs and everything else. He appeared to gaze at her shoulder.
"Nak. Nak. Negative sigma. Later."
"If you are going to detain us unlawfully," said Gallaway more softly, "you must at least give us reasonable cause!"
Ivan looked back at Ferrel.
"Vinsley works for the Consortium. He does dirty work for them. He gets things they need and they help him with them."
"Heaven's flames," exclaimed Gallaway, "That's... They're not... We have treaties!"
"That doesn't mean much to them," said Micah bitterly, "but she is right. You do have treaties."
Ivan chose to ignore both of them.
"Will you help us rescue Robin," asked Ferrel.
"Nak. Nak nak nak." Ivan paced again. "Nak. Not possible."
"Possible," countered Ferrel, "You sync the blue boys. Plus-plus possible. Cryo?"
"NAK!" Then with a tinge of regret, "It's complicated. What... What I can't tell you I can't talk about. It's complicated."
"So we sit here until someone finds us," asked Micah.
Ivan shoved a handful of nibblers into his mouth and chewed. He almost-looked at Gallaway again. "You're going into protection," he said, spitting a couple of pieces of nibbler out when he spoke, "I'm authorized to have people killed but that would reek. Yeah. You're going into protection."
Gallaway paled at this.
"That's polar," said Ivan, as if to convince himself. He motioned to one of the CA officers. "Take her into protection. Keep her safe there."
"Aye, sir," saluted the man.
The officer gently escorted Gallaway to one of the hovers and sped away.
Ivan watched the hover depart, sighed and paced some more.
"That's polar," he said.
"About Robin," asked Ferrel after a long silence.
Ivan walked to the hovercycle, brought back a terminal and plopped it into Ferrel's lap. He inserted a chip and powered it up.
"There's an embassy. Consortium. They're not there but that's where they're going. They're not there yet and it won't be easy for them to get there." Ivan said the last proudly. "There's a warehouse not far away. Shut down. Rugger used to own it but they sold it. The Consortium owns it but they have a company. They really have several but that doesn't matter. This is the important one. They own the warehouse. They're going to stay there until they can move to the embassy. Vinsley wants his stuff too but he can't get a lot of it."
"So what do you want us to do," asked Micah.
Ivan stared at him. "Get her back, doof. That's where they are. You can get her back and you get what you want. I know who you are and I know why the League sent you."
"And what's in it for us?"
"Purge core you clickpuppy doof! I'm supposed... Nak. Nak, nak, nak. You get her back, you get what you want. It's complicated. Sync?"
"Nak," said Ferrel, "All of that and you don't come after us."
Ivan looked at Ferrel. "Doof plus-plus sync! Nubb!"
"Polar cryonic, spiker," said Ferrel, "What now?"
"It's complicated." Ivan motioned to the CA officers.
Two of the men went to the large hover. They emerged with all of Micah's and Ferrel's gear, carried it to the plain hover and dumped it inside.
"Polar," said Ivan, "You take that hover. Major's half an hour down the road. You can find it. Ten minutes after you leave I'll stun them." He pointed to the CA officers. "That will bring lots more. Watch out for them." He pulled out the chip and stuffed it into Ferrel's pocket. "Here's the information. All you need. You can find the building. After I stun the officers."
"But why..."
"Unplug! It's complicated." Ivan folded up his terminal.
Micah cleared his throat. "Ar
e you going to release us?"
Ivan looked at Ferrel but jerked his head toward Micah. "I don't want him after me!"
"I won't touch you, friend," said Micah.
Ivan released Ferrel then, hesitantly, Micah. Micah rubbed his wrists but made no other moves. Ivan scurried to place Ferrel between himself and Micah.
"Ten minutes," he said, "Ten minutes. Then I stun them."
Ferrel motioned Micah to the hover and started after him. Before he shut the door he gave Ivan a wave.
"That was... interesting," said Micah.
"Plus-plus," said Ferrel, not looking up.
As soon as they drove out of sight of the clearing Ferrel climbed into the back seat and started examining their equipment. They had everything from the room, everything Micah brought and even a pair of hotel towels and soaps. Ferrel checked carefully for evidence of tampering or bugs but he'd not say a word until they left this hover far behind them.
"We need a plan of attack," said Micah, 'Op-in-a-box?"
"Workable," mumbled Ferrel, "If the address is active they'll still receive packages, even if they're delivered by mistake."
Within thirty minutes they had their fictitious operation completely planned and Refuge Major surrounded them.
***
"Friend Ivan is not sane," said Micah, "Are you sure about our equipment?"
"Six sigmas on the beam, my brother."
As soon as the entered Major Micah parked their hover at the first transit station he saw. He and Ferrel then took a few buses at random, ran a rat path and finally settled into a hotel.
"I also debate your assertion," added Ferrel, "I think he did an admirable job."
Micah put a well-worn five-credit bill on the table.
"No blather," said Ferrel, "Friend Ivan does not have a high degree of interpersonal skill because he simply doesn't need it. I assume you deduced he's a burner. I'll wager he's a ruddy good one. He'd have to be to work for CA SpecOps."
"If," said Micah, "I'll concede the point for now."
"For whatever reason, he was forced to interact with people," continued Ferrel, "We may assume that same reason is a part of what he could not discuss. Tangentially we can infer that he does not particularly like that reason, and necessarily the Consortium, so he had to find a way to act counter to his orders without actually breaking them."
"Go on," said Micah.
"Lacking the subtleties of social grace and confronted with three intimidating individuals he did the best he could to present us necessary information, not violate his orders, preserve deniability for himself or perhaps another and ask us to do something he wants but he himself cannot do."
"Phase down," said Micah, "Ignoring my glowing and gentle personality who exactly frightened him so badly?"
"You most of all. Me to a lesser degree and certainly Lorna. Please note: he did not once look directly at her or meet her eyes. He barely met yours."
"Whyfor?"
Ferrel shrugged. "You'll have to ask him that, Signor Bully. Perhaps he had a bad experience with a solicitor. We'll ask Vera later. Pious question: what to do now."
Micah thought a moment. "I believe a visit to the library is in order."
The next morning found Micah prowling the shelves and Ferrel working the datacores at the closest library branch. Micah searched for information on the Federation's external policies and history with its neighbors while Ferrel queried news archives starting with the most recent and working backward. By midafternoon they had what they needed.
"The Consortium could take them easily," said Ferrel, "They know it, the Corpses know it and all their allies know it. The only question is why the haven't."
"Easy conquest is a relative term," said Micah, "It's also a lot different from feasible. As annoying as they can be, the Central Authority is perfectly organized and optimized to defend the Federation at any level and with any granularity.
"The Corpses have enough belligerents and outright enemies to preclude even a 'small' conquest unless they're at least three hundred percent certain and twice as ready. With neutral or neutral-friendly relations, why bother flexing the muscle? That's not necessary and it's much more profitable to keep the peace and exploit the economy."
"Truth and pure," agreed Ferrel after a quick perusal of his data, "That also gives nice perks. Pick a few dirty folks, give them some money and orders and turn them loose. The Consortium has full deniability, they reap the rewards and anything their tools do to weaken the economy or just cause havoc benefits them."
"With sufficient backing and local resources they can also fund probes into neighboring sovereignties." Micah made a sour face. "The Consortium in a nutshell: efficient, tidy, profitable and vile."
"Pious question still," said Ferrel, "what now?"
"We neutralize the Consortium presence in the Nebula Worlds Federation," replied Micah calmly.
"Slib, my brother," said Ferrel after a moment, "but won't we need lots of help?"
"Oh we won't accomplish the full goal," said Micah, "but we'll ruddy well give it a good start. Item: now we know how Vinsley eluded us so well. He has powerful friends and lots of help. Item: he and his crew, minus the Corpse liaison, are independents. Sever that link and he becomes easier to track and capture. Final item: relations between the Federation and the Consortium are not completely stable."
"They are majority-stable," said Ferrel.
"But that majority is decreasing," countered Micah, "Therefore opposition is increasing. I doubt the Federation will sever relations completely. Our lives would be easier but they won't. Just because military conquest isn't easy doesn't make it impossible.
"The Federation won't kick the Consortium out. Instead the opposition will press hard for concessions. They'll maneuver to block the worst exploitations, then repeat. Finally they will work to instigate measures of their own that benefit them. If they're smart."
"Typical politics!"
"Truth but useful! Given the current environment and with opposition building, how do you think the Corpses would react to having their dirty little secrets exposed?"
The wickedness in Ferrel's grin almost matched Micah's.
"Secondary question," said Ferrel, "Do we act on Ivan's information?"
"Not without confirmation," said Micah, "He may be sincere, he may be insane, he may be playing deep or he may be a clean face for someone who is. If Vinsley and his contacts are there we need to verify. If not we need to find them. Most of all we need more information!"
"I concur. What about Robin?"
"We get her out if we can," said Micah, "She's secondary."
Ferrel nodded. He saw how dearly those last words cost Micah.
***
Robin roused herself. A gray ceiling above her melded into a gray wall beside her. Looking around she saw a gray room with a table and chair, both made of cheap metal, the cot on which she lay and a pair of doors. When she rose and checked she found the smaller led to an equally small fresher. Neither it nor the room had any windows.
"Nice," she said, washing her face and rinsing out her mouth.
When she left the fresher Everett stood waiting for her.
"Hello, my heart," he said, tucking her arm under his, "Are you feeling well?"
"Yes, Claud."
"Good. Good, good, good. Come along, my darling. I fear our current accommodations are somewhat lacking but we'll not be here long."
The other door led into a much larger room, better furnished but still lacking windows. The tables held several terminals, a holovee hung on one wall and a food unit sat beside it. Nels and Donnel sat at one of the tables playing cards but neither spoke. Donnel scowled but only briefly. Everett checked his chrono.
"I fear I must leave you a while, my dear. I'll not be gone long and I might have company when I return."
He smiled at the last part giving Robin no doubt of the unpleasantness of that company. He patted her hand and left.
"Well, sluttie," said Donnel once the door cl
osed, "Since he didn't tell you the rules I will. Don't touch the terminals. Don't touch the holovee. Make us a meal."
"Make it yourself," she said, turning back to her room.
Within seconds the lash curled around her neck. Donnel pulled her backward and began pulsing it. She gasped for breath, only to scream when she caught it. He didn't drive her to unconsciousness but he didn't stop far from it.
"I said fix us a meal," he repeated.
"And I said fix your own."
After another eternity Robin felt another arm lifting her. Nels walked her to a chair and brought her a glass of water.
"No blather," he said, "For someone so smart you can be stupid."
"Thanks, dear," she said with a warm smile and a wink.
Nels' eyebrows rose and he gave her a puzzled look.
"For the water," she said, patting his arm.
"You're quite welcome." He hesitated a moment, pulled a pack of drugsticks out of his pocket and set them beside her. He walked away before she could thank him again but she did catch a look at Donnel out of the corner of her eye. His expression made her smile inwardly.
After a time Robin felt better, and hungry. She went to the foodprep and fixed as good a meal as it would allow. Then she fixed another for Nels. For Donnel she drew ration bars and weak tea. Though it cost her she smiled at him when she set it down. For Nels she had a much warmer smile.
"Thanks," he said.
"You're welcome." Robin let her smile widen.
Donnel finished well before either Robin or Nels.
"Clean it up, sluttie."
"Clean it yourself," said Nels sharply, "and close your hole while you're about it."
Donnel glowered and muttered but he complied. After he finished he muttered something about checking security and left. Nels' expression turned serious.
"He's going to tell Everett you're trying to make time with me," said Nels, "or that I'm getting too friendly with you."
Robin felt a twitch of nerves but clamped down on it. "Are you?"
He chuckled. "I wasn't planning it. D'you really want Everett torqued at you?"
She looked down, then away, then back at him. "You were nice to me."
He reached out and patted her hand. "No charge for that, Robin. I'm going to step out now and I will be locking the door. It really would be best if you don't mess with the terminals or holovee."
