Her duffel bag slapped her thigh with every step as she walked inside. The older woman at the counter called her forward after the gentleman she had been helping concluded his transaction. Jayne explained that she wanted to exchange the ticket for credits and transferred the details into the computer system.
"Are you sure you want to lose your ticket?" the woman asked, peering at Jayne through the protective force field. "This one is encoded with an administration clearance. You can’t just buy another one.”
Jayne shifted her feet briefly, taken aback by the stranger’s insight. “Yes, I’m sure.” She flushed with embarrassment, especially since the woman knew she hadn’t purchased the ticket herself in the first place.
The sales associate rolled the optic ring on her finger to adjust the focus of her contact lenses, all to get a better look at Jayne. She looked her up and down. “University student?”
Jayne nodded.
The sales assistant waved her hand dismissively. “Well, we don't have a policy against buying tickets provided by the administration. However, I must warn you. If you are rejected by your university program, there’s no going back. I’m legally obligated to inform you of that fact.” Her lips pursed tightly as she gauged Jayne’s reaction.
“I understand. Thank you.” She paused. It seemed that she wasn’t the first one to sell her ticket and try to get into student housing. Her tone softened. “How many students are rejected in your estimation?”
The woman behind the counter gave her a grin before grabbing the ticket.
“Well, now and then, people come back wanting to reverse the transaction.” She raised her hands in a helpless gesture. “But once the data’s been put through the system, that’s it.”
Jayne nodded in acknowledgment.
No turning back now…
+++
She had been standing at the curb outside the spaceport for almost half an hour waiting for a cab that didn’t have passengers practically brawling to take the ride. It was unnerving to stand in one place for so long. She reached into her bag and retrieved her tablet to take her mind off the situation.
“Just standing here is draining my money,” she muttered, checking her account. The credits from the ticket exchange had been transferred, but the balance was still unsatisfactorily low.
If only I had more tickets to sell.
Her musings on entrepreneurship were interrupted when her eyes locked on a shape moving against the foot traffic. The man was short and nondescript and easily escaped notice. He broke from the stream of passengers and turned toward an empty cab a few yards away. He flipped on the TAXI hologram on the roof.
Jayne glanced casually at the other passengers and disengaged seamlessly from the hustle and bustle. No one followed her.
She walked casually but confidently to the vehicle with outward disinterest. The slightest twitch could set the flock of cab vultures squabbling after her.
She reached it just as the driver was opening the door.
Jayne beamed her most disarming smile at him. “Trip to the university building? How much?” she asked, trying not to sound poor.
The cabby tilted his head and gave her a look, trying to figure out who the sucker would be in this situation.
“There’s a ton of them universities. Which one you want?”
“It’s… Um….” She fumbled for the answer while he waited impatiently.
Great, make yourself look like a total idiot, why don’t you? she chided herself.
She glanced discreetly at her tablet. A quick scan was all it took to find the information she required. “Tesla,” she cleared her throat and said it again. “Tesla University of Technical Arts, specifically ”
+++
Armaros, Theron Techcropolis
Jayne felt uneasy in the cab. The driver stared at her every five seconds using the side view mirrors, rear view mirrors, and twice by turning to look at her directly. She knew she was probably a little more discerning than his usual fare, but it couldn’t be unusual for a person leaving the station to want a lower-priced cab.
Even so, something was off.
She tried to ignore him and turned her gaze to the view outside. From this cab’s vantage, thick smog clouded the visibility significantly. “Sorry this cab ain’t your style, lady,” the cabby joked. “If you wanted a good view, you shoulda gone with the more expensive ones.”
“I sure shoulda,” Jayne muttered.
The vehicle wasn’t capable of flying very high compared to its fellows.
She caught a flicker of motion out of the corner of her eye. “Gotta say, for a nice lady like you, I’m willing to offer some alternative payment options.” The driver grinned in the rearview mirror and ran his tongue across his dirty teeth. “That is, if you’re interested,” he added nonchalantly.
Jayne glared at him without faltering as she spoke in a cool voice. “I'd rather go broke.”
He snorted at the snub and turned his attention back to the route.
This cab ride should be just long enough to teach this asshole a lesson, she decided.
She slid down in her seat and felt around the floor of the cab.
Her hand squashed something sticky.
Gross!
She desperately hoped she had merely brushed against some old gum. However, even if it wasn’t, she wouldn’t let that deter her. The cabby’s lewdness should not go unchallenged, and a spy had to endure far worse, at times, to complete the mission.
Resolute, she persisted in her quest, feigning a desire to avoid the driver’s attentions but for reasons beyond the obvious. She finally found her prize: a bank-port, the electronic equivalent to the old fashioned cigar box of cash on a cab’s dashboard. Instead of holding bills, this small plastic cube held a microchip with thousands of credits in encrypted code – a code she learned at the academy. Its cable was a simple, basic link. The width and yield of the casing alone told her that much. The newer models were tamper-proof, but if this vehicle was as sleazy as its driver, there was little chance he’d taken the proper precautions. It begged to be hacked, and that happened to be among her specialties.
Jayne stretched languidly and leaned down to sort through her bag. She pretended to grab her data pad, an innocent enough action. She had to act normal. The driver might be a pervert, but that didn’t mean he was stupid. It took only a casual gesture as she rifled through the bag to draw the knife she’d thankfully hidden in her boot before departing the port. The cold metal handle dug into her hand as she pawed for the transmitter.
A brush of turbulence was all she needed to mask a deft incision to split the cord casing.
Her lips curled upwards as she glanced at the small device in her hand. The academy might have kicked her out, but that didn’t mean they got to keep her toys. A few late-night visits to each of the tech departments and supply rooms were more than enough for her to acquire her rightful due before that bumbling idiot of a dean revoked her access. He could take the spy from the academy, but he couldn’t take the gadgets from the spy. Once she tapped the wire, her little friend would do the rest.
She accomplished her goal with little effort and flipped the switch to start the feed, returned the knife to her boot, and leaned back in the seat.
The cabby turned to ogle her again. “What’s wrong lady?” he jeered. “My floor too hot for you?”
"Your floor is too shitty for me," Jayne replied sharply. "I don't know what's worse, the pollution outside or the pollution in here."
The man meowed like a tomcat in heat and laughed. “I like kitty cats with bite.”
There was really no stopping this guy. Jayne ignored him as she opened her tablet and took another cursory glance at the driver to ensure he wasn’t watching, and got to work.
The interface was quick and easy. She synched with the transmitter and tapped a few times as her tablet processed the data streams. It was a simple matter to reconfigure the numbers and get access. The process was so easy, she had to intentionally slow
down her typing because she worried it would draw attention.
While hacking into the cabby’s bank account would have required a lot of work, grabbing some credits from his onboard system was a breeze. The security was over twenty years old and a freshman could’ve hacked it in their sleep.
Now, how much will I take? Seven hundred and fifty credits sounds fair.
The cabby looked at her again, this time through the side mirrors.
A thousand credits, she decided.
By the time they had reached the university, she’d managed to mask the damage to the data link and reclaim her transmitter. Once safely outside, she tapped a few times on her pad and initiated the transaction, paying a tenth of the credits she had taken. The driver’s dash acknowledged receipt and she strutted toward the nearest building.
The cabby stuck his head out the window and shouted. "What, no tip?"
She turned and smirked. "Oh, sorry.” She reached into her pocket, and pulled out her hand flipping him the bird. “And keep the change, asshole.”
+++
Tesla University of Technical Arts, Techcropolis, Armaros
The university, much like the rest of the city, sprawled in all directions. The modern design of the interior reminded her of the high-end shuttles she had seen in one of the subsystems she’d passed en route to Armaros.
Jayne watched idly from the great skybridge five stories up. Students milled and surged in a human ebb and flow. Chatter was optimistic, carefree, and less self-centered with a certain energy the rest of the city didn’t seem to have. Then again, it might also be the fact that students led a lifestyle unlike anything most normal citizens would experience.
Further observation revealed that not every aspect of the campus was new. Certain structures and buildings embodied a distinct air of antiquity that blended seamlessly with their more modern counterparts. Every wall was engraved with characters from the older worlds and civilizations. Ancient Greek, Latin, Old Gaelic, and a few others she’d learned of in her decoding class spread out in fluid counterpoint to the modern curves and geometric structures of other buildings.
Eventually, Jayne’s gaze came to rest on a large white, ornate metal structure that slanted off the furthermost wall of the campus. Her training kicked in immediately.
That would be perfect for climbing.
It was. The metal design provided good handholds, and a gap between the wall and the structure was wide enough for a girl with her lithe frame to squeeze between. With the right timing, she could reach the top of the sculpture without attracting the attention of anyone.
She indulged her imagination for a few more minutes before her discipline reasserted itself. The climb would have to wait. She had a mission to fulfill. It didn’t take long to find the enrollment office on the map that one of the school’s many visitor kiosks happily downloaded to her tablet. Once she’d plotted her course, she scrolled through the options for major fields of study.
Foreign Language Poetry… Sounds lame.
Foreign Anthropology… What does anthropology even mean?
Planetary Biochemistry… Sorry, I’m interplanetary.
Political Sciences… I’ve had it up to my neck with politicians, thank you very much.
Planet Science… Once again, I’m interplanetary.
Intergalactic Astronomy… Don’t believe in horoscopes.
Chemical engineering… Hard pass.
Finances… I needed this course back at the café.
Philosophy… What’s the point?
“Nice place, isn’t it?”
Jayne looked up at a pure ponytailed Peggy. She was neatly groomed with a beauty mark on her chin. A few light applications of makeup helped to highlight some of her better features.
“Mmhm,” Jayne mumbled. The interruption was more annoying than unnerving but both served the same purpose: distraction.
“I spent about an hour finding the enrollment office,” the girl confessed as they pressed on and eventually joined a line of students queuing outside an office door.
Jayne sighed internally. Why did people have to talk so much? She knew the newcomer was merely trying to be friendly, but all Jayne wanted to do was get enrolled, find her new housing, and crash. It had been a long trip. Then again, a little intelligence-gathering never hurt.
“Yeah, same,” she replied.
“I’m Angela.” The girl’s gaze darted to Jayne’s tablet. “I’m signing up for the chemical engineering degree. You?”
“Um… Finance.”
No, not finance!
“And philosophy.”
Good one, Jayne.
“Finance and philosophy?” Angela asked, tilting her head. “That’s a bizarre combination.”
“Yes, well, I plan on studying the philosophy behind our economic system.” Jayne said casually. She wasn’t the top of her class for nothing and could bluff with the best of them. “Plus, I liked the sound of the words.”
“I don’t think that’s a sensible way to choose your major,” Angela replied, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.
"Is there really a sensible way to choose your major?" asked Jayne. "We’re all pursuing careers we mostly decided on when we were eight."
“Well, I’m not sure if that’s completely true.”
“Yeah? Well, I won’t spend much time on it anyway.” Jayne shrugged.
“OH, I get it. Respect. I hear some of the dorm parties here are lit, to use a pretty vintage term.” Angela leaned in conspiratorially. “I really hope someone has a hypervacuum bong here.”
Jayne wondered if she should confess that she’d only ever been to two parties in her entire life or let the assumption that she was socially experienced stand.
They shuffled forward for what turned out to be dorm registration. Angela droned away about the different activities they could get involved in at university, but Jayne filtered it out. She wasn’t there to study. Her purpose was the free accommodation while she figured out her next move.
“So, any activities you hope to get into?” Angela asked.
“Yeah, band practice,” Jayne said dryly.
Her companion looked at her like she was touched in the head. Apparently, the girl had no sense of sarcasm.
“So, what made you decide on chemical engineering?” Jayne asked. One of the main rules of dealing with soft interrogation was to turn the inquiry onto your opponent. “Are you a chemistry genius or something?”
“Well, I was too modest to say it myself.” Angela’s smile widened into a proud grin. “But yeah, I do know a lot about chemistry and engineering.”
“Oh, can you make me some Sodium Hypobromite?” asked Jayne.
“NaBrO.” Angela grinned at the old joke.
“So, what about you…uh…”
“Jayne.”
“So, Jayne, tell me about yourself.”
She hesitated as she hadn’t quite finished constructing her cover story. This girl was harmless, and that’s what made her dangerous. She’d talk to anyone. Once she had spoken it, she couldn’t change any aspect of it.
“Well, you see—” Jayne started, prepared to make it up as she went along.
“Next in line?” someone called out.
“Oh, that’s me!” Angela scurried excitedly toward the counter.
Jayne shuffled forward, glad to be released from the inane conversation that had almost become complicated. She looked at her tablet again.
Finance and philosophy, huh? Well, at least no one will want to talk to you at parties.
CHAPTER FOUR
Armaros, Techcropolis, Tesla University of Technical Arts
Jayne sighed forlornly as she glanced around yet another drab room. Why was it these official offices always looked the same? The registration process was incredibly slow, and it looked like it would take forever. She drummed her fingers impatiently on the edge of the tablet she clutched in her arms. Her bag and all her earthly possessions lay at her feet.
How long does it take to registe
r one person on the intranet? she wondered in exasperation.
The former spy-in-training had already tapped into the university’s cyber stream. Sure, she would have the login details once she was enrolled, but she was bored, so why wait?
She swiped through the system and performed a brief analysis of the school’s security. It wasn’t as bad as the security in the cab. In fact, by most standards, it was pretty good. Certainly not impenetrable, though. One thing Jayne had learned very early was that few things ever were. It was merely a matter of how long it took to break through.
Maybe I can enter my details into the system from here and skip the line, she mused.
A tiny grin appeared on her face that quickly turned into a frown as she reached the administrative portions of the system. Student records were sealed behind several additional layers of security. Of course, that didn’t make it impossible, but it would require a little more work.
First, I have to use my trusty old transmitter on one of the data cables here. Once I get access to the data stream, I can use one of their keys to get authorization.
The data cable visible at the end of the registration room looked like a good fit, although somewhere more discreet would have been better. It was a simple enough task. Tap into the cable and get the key.
Of course, that key wouldn’t work straight off. It would most likely have a two-part encryption, and someone would notice the transmitter before I finished.
Jayne pulled up the map of the university. The locations of places like the server rooms and other high-security areas weren’t outlined. Of course, that made it easier for her to determine which rooms provided the best chance of achieving her goal.
The universal part of the key wouldn’t be a problem. She could easily tap into any part of the university’s intranet and obtain that. The private key, on the other hand, was unique to a single computer. If she tried to hack into the system using the same private key, it would trigger an alert.
Expelled (Interplanetary Spy for Hire Book 1) Page 3
