by Alex Kings
One came up to Hanson as he left the ship. It pulled out a contracted tablet from a socket in its suit and, holding the tablet in its effector fields, extended it. “We have taken payment for six hours,” it told him. “If you wish to stay longer, you must pay within the next five hours. Otherwise, you must vacate this berth by 19:28 hours and 23 seconds. Should you stay longer, we will add a penalty charge by the second.”
Hanson glanced at the tablets. Of course, the penalty charges were exorbitant. “Thank you,” he said curtly, and walked onwards.
The Albascene called after them in an even more officious tone: “Please be aware that not all local areas are suitable for Varanids.”
“Yeah, yeah,” muttered Srak.
One wall was lined with sliding doors – the entrances to lifts. Hanson summoned one, which arrived immediately.
A small octagonal window in the far side showed the environment as they descended. First, there was the glowing roof of the canyon with the grey desert in the background. They they plunged through rock, A moment later, they got a brief glimpse of the farmland – aeroponics tended by robots, lit by overhead lamps.
Then, after a few seconds, they emerged into the canyon itself. The lift ran at a slant down one steep side, connected to a track by effector fields. On the far side, a couple of kilometres away, homes and buildings were built into the rock-face, each set a little further back than the one below it. At the bottom, the ground was nearly flat. There was a canal running down the middle (not a river, thought Hanson – it wasn't flowing), with a few boats and pleasure craft. Either side were walkways and other buildings. It was crossed by a couple of narrow bridges and regular lengths of cable. That was all an Albascene needed to cross, something to grab with their effector fields.
“It looks pleasant,” he told his team. “But remember, it isn't. Not necessarily.” He nodded towards Yilva.
Yilva had provided most of the information about Kalbraica, and reminded them how Albascene operate. The Albascene loved order, loved rules, but Kalbraica wasn't under Albascene government. The only rule here was the rule of contract – a tricky, sometimes deadly thing.
“So, here's the plan,” said Hanson, to bring everyone up to speed. “We need to find where Arka's ship is docked and prevent him leaving, but there's no public record of where ships are located. We've got two avenues of attack. First: At the nearest public terminal that isn't in full view, Yilva will try and hack into it and see what location data she can find. Agatha and Srak, you stay with her. Not directly with her, but nearby. And if things get hairy, you step in.”
Srak gave a mock salute.
“Second: Moore, Vyren, you're with me,” continued Hanson. “According to what Yilva tells me, our old friends the Associated Calculations and Contracts Corporation – AC3 – have moved their setup from Tethya to here after the attack. That includes most of their personnel. And we might have a contact there who can help us.”
At last the lift came to a halt, and the doors on the opposite side opened.
The scene looked mostly peaceful: Open, sweeping walkways, a few food stations. A myriad little shops. Most of the population were either Albascene or Petaurs. But the other species were well represented. At a table a few metres away, Glaber wearing smart suits (a style Hanson had never seen on them before) hashed out a business deal with some humans. A Varanid stood by the canal-side talking to a Tethyan.
An Albascene floated ahead of a line of six tired-looking Petaurs. It issued orders while they struggled to keep up.
Yilva's ears fell flat against her skull. Her tail drooped on the floor, and she looked after them. A tiny growl came from the back of her throat.
“Are you doing okay?” Hanson asked her.
She gave him a forced smile. “Yes! Yes. It just … brings back memories. They're from AC3.”
Hanson led them in the opposite direction, looking around. Despite the clean look of everything, same seedy elements jumped out. A sign in bad Isk advertised an multi-species brothel. Small groups of people in alleys gave him dark looks as he passed by.
Eventually they found a side street that was relatively clean, but not frequented. They moved up to the nearest terminal, and Yilva bounded up to it, gestured at the screen, and started working.
“Are you sure you can hack this without getting traced?” Hanson asked.
“Are you joking?” said Yilva. She looked at him, grinning. This time her smile was totally sincere, if a little malicious. “These are Albascene systems. I have been around them since I was five! And I worked on this operating system a few years back. Easy!”
“Good,” said Hanson. “So long as you're sure. How long will it take?”
“Hard to say,” said Yilva. “Ten minutes? An hour? I'll try to be ready by the time you get back.”
He called over Agatha and Srak, and had them stand on the far side of the walkway where they wouldn't be too conspicuous, but could still keep sight of Yilva.
Then, with Moore and Vyren, he set off towards AC3.
Chapter 27: Sulphurous
The AC3 building was just like the one he'd seen in Tethya: A metallic dodecahedron about a hundred metres high, covered in odd geometric arrangements of windows. A sign out the front identified it in Isk and the Albascene language. But here, it was built directly against the rock wall of the canyon.
“Here's hoping this goes better than last time,” murmured Hanson.
“What happened last time?” asked Vyren.
“I got caught between two opposing armies of Glaber and Albascene, and had to jump out a seventh-story window into the ocean.”
“Oh … yes, I remember hearing about that.”
“Don't worry, sir,” said Moore. “I'm sure that won't happen again. Something just as catastrophic, on the other hand …”
The front gate seemed to open to visitors, so Hanson led them in. The reception was roomy, well-lit, and perfectly air-conditioned. Behind a chrome reception desk, a Petaur sat, idly reading something on a tablet.
When the Petaur saw Hanson, she quickly put the tablet aside and leapt up, giving him a broad, customer-service-style smile. “Hello!” she said in Isk. “How can I be of service?”
“I'm looking for an Albascene who works here,” said Hanson. “Name's Ivis. Third-level adjunct corporate management.”
The Petaur's eyes widened slightly. She seemed to recognise him. Still, she gestured at the tablet to look Ivis up formally. “Yes,” she said at last. “Why do you wish to see him?”
“It's part of an investigation,” Hanson said. He gestured at Vyren, floating behind him. “Something with Tethyan backing.”
Vyren floated forward and introduced himself. From the translation box strapped to his body, he produced a very thin slip of something with an effector field. It emerged from the bubble of water completely dry. He presented it to the Petaur, who looked into it and gestured at her tablet. Hanson supposed it must be some sort of badge or identifier.
Either way, it got them through:
“Yes,” said the Petaur. “Okay. You can go through. But before you can talk to Ivis, you'll need to talk to the section manager first.” She shrugged and looked apologetic. “It's just regulations. With your level of clearance, he should let you through immediately. It's just through that way.” She gave them directions.
“Thank you,” said Hanson.
The Petaur opened the door for them, and they followed a short corridor, headed up a ramp, and eventually found themselves waiting at another desk, this one empty.
Hanson drummed his fingers on the desk, leaned over, and looked to either side. In his mind, he ran through plans of how he'd escape if things did go wrong.
An Albascene emerged from the side wall. The top segment of its suited rotated ver a small angle as if it were observing all three of them. “Captain Hanson,” it said at last. “Welcome back to the Associated Calculations and Contracts Corporation. It is a pleasure to see you again.”
Hanson didn't recogn
ise the Albascene's suit, though it was never easy to tell. “Do I know you?”
“Forgive me. I have upgraded my suit. I am Section Manager Olgive.”
“Ah,” said Hanson. He watched Olgive intently, locking gaze with one of the lights on the upper part of the suit that looked like it could be an eye. “Is that a promotion?”
“It is, yes. As part of our move from Tethya to Kalbraica. In fact, it is a promotion I owe in part to you and other humans.”
Though Olgive's voice – like all Albascene voices – was perfectly calm, Hanson thought he could detect a note of smugness.
Olgive continued, “Now that the human corporation Interstellar Liners has been revealed as a villain and gone into hiding, they have lost their market share. The opportunity is considerable, and AC3 is rising admirably to the occasion. We are happy to succeed where IL failed.”
“That's lovely,” said Hanson. “Truly, it is. I hope you remember though, that IL is still out there, and still very dangerous. And, for that matter, that Yilva's help was essential in defeating them.”
“No, Captain, I have not forgotten Yilva,” said Olgive. He fell silent for a few seconds. “You wish to see Third-level Adjunct Manager Ivis?”
“If we may,” said Hanson.
“By all means!” said Olgive. “I certainly have no desire to interrupt your investigation. Please follow me.”
*
Agatha sat at one of the outdoor tables drumming her fingers on a half-pint of beer, putting her feet up on the other chair. Srak lay spread out on the floor across the table.
The table was open fretwork in some odd pattern. It wasn't bolted to the floor, and was easy to tip over, but even then wouldn't serve as great cover. The beer was of no brand she knew of – though it was “certified human-suitable”, it had a faintly sulphurous smell that made her suspicious. Her pistol was a reassuring pressure against her thigh.
A couple of metres behind them, the canal lapped faintly at the shore. A couple of kilometres above, the canyon ceiling was a suitable skylike blue colour. And ahead of them, on the far side of the walkway, she could see Yilva working intently.
Nothing looked too threatening. She sighed and pushed the beer over to Srak. “You have it.”
Srak took the glass without further prompting, and drained it with two gulps.
“So, thats why you wanted to keep it from me?” Agatha asked lightly. “You never committed any atrocity against the Varanids? You just walked away.”
“That's atrocity enough, for some of them.”
“Not Kuta.”
Srak made a soft rumble in his throat. Agatha had long since learned to recognise it as a purr rather than a growl. “No,” he said. “Perhaps I will be able to return there one day … and even be able to enjoy it.” He smiled at her. “Thank you.”
“S'what friends are for.”
“As for you and Hanson …”
Agatha glared at him.
A lone Albascene came up to where Yilva was working.
Agatha's hand went to her pistol. “Oh, thank god,” she muttered.
“Wait,” Srak said softly.
“Yeah, yeah. I know.”
Of course she knew. Stepping in now might only make things worse. So she waited, and she listened:
“Petaur,” said the Albascene.
Yilva's tail tensed. Her ears swivelled round, and she turned to look at the Albascene. “What is it?”
“You are working alone. Where is your employer or manager?”
“Not here right now … ” said Yilva.
The Albascene's middle segment turned slightly. “You are trusted to do that?”
Yilva straightened up and looked directly at the Albascene's top segment. “Yes,” she said confidently. “I am.”
There was a pause. The Albascene floated back a few inches. “To whom are you indentured? I would like to see proof.”
Yilva leaned forward, then the fight went out of her. She pulled a tablet from her gown, expanded it a little, and showed it to the Albascene.
“Yilva Vissin Avanni,” read the Albascene. “Indentured by AC3, assigned to work on Tethyan special projects. Why, then are you here? There is no Tethyan presence on Kalbraica.”
Yilva contracted the tablet, put it back in her gown, and turned back to the terminal. “That's all the proof I need to give you,” she said loudly. “Now, I have work to do.”
The Albascene paused for a few seconds, as if it were considering pushing the matter. Then it moved away, and continued down the walkway. Yilva didn't look up.
Sighing with relief, Agatha released her pistol. “There. Nothing she can't handle.”
*
Olgive led Hanson and his team up another ramp. “In here,” he said. He showed them into a room, and closed the door behind them without bothering to follow.
The room was small, with a single terminal on a wall. In the middle, Ivis sat solidly on the ground, unsupported by effector fields. Most of the LEDs were dark, and a short cable connected its suit to the terminal.
An Albascene at work didn't seem to be doing anything – all the work went on inside its suit.
As soon at they entered, LEDs flicked on across Ivis's suit. He raised himself a few inches off the ground on effector fields. “Captain Hanson!”
“Hello, Ivis” said Hanson. He smiled. “I'm sorry Yilva couldn't be here. She's working on other things. But I need a favour.”
“By all means!” said Ivis. “You saved Yilva from this place, and you may have saved my life from the Glaber. What can I do for you?”
“We're looking for a Varanid named Arka. Where his ship is docked, what he's been doing here, that sort of thing. Do you have access to that sort of information?”
“Some of it,” said Ivis. “I can certainly send out a request for docking histories. What's the ship registration?”
Hanson told him.
“Just a moment.” Some of Ivis's LEDs went dark again. Some of the suit segments rotated back and forth idly. “I have him. A Varanid ship of that registration landed here a few hours ago. Just couple of hundred miles up he canyon.”
“Anything else you can tell us?” asked Hanson. “How often does he visit? Who might he see while he's here?”
“According to this,” said Ivis, “he's never been here before.”
“Never?” Hanson frowned. “Are you sure? He's used other registration numbers for his ship.” These, too, he gave to Ivis.
“No, nothing for those. If that ship had been here before, it would have been mentioned. This is Arka's first time on Kalbraica.”
“Alright. Thank you.”
Ivis took Hanson's tablet for a moment to download directions and a map of the area.
Hanson looked it over. “Well, then,” he said. “Let's go and find Arka.”
Chapter 28: Free to Log an Appeal
Hanson found Yilva still working at the terminal. Across the walkway, Agatha and Srak sat at a table by the canal-side. Srak waved to him.
“How are things going?” Hanson asked.
“I'm nearly in,” said Yilva. “Once I'm through, we should have read-access to anything in the system. How's Ivis?”
“Good,” said Hanson. “Is there any way we could lock down Arka's ship from here? It would be helpful.
“Maybe,” said Yilva. “That might take a little longer.”
“Well, see what you can do.”
Yilva nodded. Her tail, flicking back and forth as she worked, had a slight droop to it. After a few seconds, she lifted her head as if she were about to speak, then stopped herself, ears flat against her head.
Then she tried again: “Vyren?”
“Yes?”
“What would happen if the Tethyans told the Albascene to stop the practice indentured work?”
The only hint Vyren was taken aback by this question was how long it took him to reply. “It is hard to tell.”
“Is it? Really? Because I think everyone knows the Albascene admire the Tethyan
s. They got right on board with the Pax Galactica. They talk about galactic harmony more than anyone else, even the Tethyans. If the Tethyans told them they were in the wrong, they would listen.”
“Perhaps …”
“So why don't they?”
“It is not part of the Pax Galactica. We allow each species to develop along its own lines, so long as they engage in interstellar warfare. We promote galactic harmony to a reasonable degree.”
Yilva snorted. Still looking at the terminal, she bared her canines in a silent snarl. “Galactica harmony. Yeah. Nice-sounding phrase that lets you sit back while your proteges are doing … doing …” She gestured with one hand down the alley towards the canal. “Indenturing.”
Vyren's tentacles twisted in a tense motion.
“Yilva,” said Hanson. “What's the matter?”
“While I was working here,” she said. “An Albascene came up to me and –”
And Albascene appeared at the entrance to the alley and came up to them.
It was Olgive.
“Hello Captain,” he said.
Yilva's tail went tense.
Hanson stiffened. “What do you want?” he asked quietly.
“I would like to take Yilva back.”
“No,” said Hanson.
Yilva closed the terminal and stared at Olgive. “I won't go,” she murmured.
Vyren floated up to Olgive. “As part of an agreement between the Tethyans and the Albascene, Yilva is to work on the Dauntless.”
“Not any more, I'm afraid,” said Olgive. He extracted a tablet from his suit and held it up to Vyren. “That decision has been overturned.”
Vyren's globe of water floated a few feet back. “There … there is nothing I can do,” he said softly.
Yilva looked at him, then turned away, her ears flat against her head.
“Overturned how?” asked Hanson.
“In light of her previous escape from Tethya – when you stole her from our building – a tribunal had ruled to extended her indenture by ten years. As part of that, it's resetting all her previous lines of work to make them more secure.”
