by T J Mott
“I think I’ve located all of the remote file backups,” Nic said. “It shouldn’t be too hard for us to delete them from the main site.” Which was true, Fletcher knew. Through Nic, the group had been able to install hidden monitoring software in the facility, and it had mapped out much of their systems and also found connections to their other facilities on the planet. Their network security was only moderate, appropriate for a company working on somewhat confidential but not classified projects that only needed to keep design data away from competitors while they developed a new product.
But Fletch shook his head. “You won’t be deleting them,” he said.
“What?” Nic looked confused. “I thought the whole purpose was to destroy their research and make sure they couldn’t compete against your employer?”
“You’re going to replace the backups with new files I’ll provide,” Fletcher answered.
Nic’s expression softened as he took a few moments to think, and then he looked amused. “You’re giving them bad designs. So when they rebuild, the new weapons won’t work.”
Fletcher merely nodded. He’d once again jumped to the wrong conclusion on his own, and once again Fletch felt no need to correct him. Actually, he had a virus provided by Gray Fleet hackers, developed using knowledge about Academy’s computing infrastructure provided by the Angels. Its primary goal was to scramble certain sets of research and design data and any backups. But beyond that, it would attempt to set up back doors—bigger, more secure backdoors than Fletcher already had—to provide Gray Fleet access to other Academy data. The second part was a long shot, but if it worked, other agents could continue to extract information from the corporation’s facilities. Perhaps even at other sites on other planets, if the virus managed to spread via the corporation’s own couriers.
“What about the hangar? I’ve seen the warehouses, there are no weapons there. It must all be in the hangar.” By virtue of his low position in the company, Nic didn’t have access to the facility’s hangar, although his own imagination—nudged here and there by Fletcher—had led him to believe that they were storing their prototype weapons there.
“I have a small bomb. It should damage the hangar enough to be a major setback.” He nearly smiled at the understatement. He had 0.2 grams of antimatter in his possession. His “small” bomb would destroy the entire plant.
“And it won’t set off the weapons stored there?” Nic shuddered visibly. “If there are antimatter warheads being held there, we risk blowing up the entire city!”
“There are no armed warheads in there,” Iva said, her voice smooth and reassuring. Which was true, Fletcher thought with a slight smile. There were no weapons of any kind in the hangar. But phrasing her response that way encouraged him to believe that there could be deactivated antimatter weapons, which would only further fuel his misbeliefs when the bomb unexpectedly yielded that of a small nuclear device. Once the dust settled, there could be some crazy conspiracy theories formed out of all the details the group thought they knew. Which was good, because it would make it difficult to link the sabotage to the Marcell Organization.
“Anyway, that’s all we have for today,” Fletcher added. “We’ll provide individual assignments in the upcoming weeks. Dismissed.”
Once the group of conspirators left, Fletcher and Iva shared a romantic meal together. Their lives on Calco were complete shams, but they actually were a married couple. “Tomorrow morning, I’m going to go check on the ship and grab the supplies we’ll need to finish up.” He was referring to the small antimatter device, hidden in a secret compartment of a briefcase, which would destroy the plant and all its hyperdrive prototypes. He also needed to bring back the cryogenically-preserved pair of corpses which bore a remarkable similarity to the two of them.
“I’ll finish writing up our current reports and plans and send them to Captain Abano by private courier.” She smiled, exposing her lovely white teeth, and raised her glass of wine towards him. “Here’s to wrapping up another successful operation.”
He raised his own glass in response. “And to our successful deaths,” he teased, feeling sorry that such a nice house had to be burned down.
Chapter 12
Another two weeks of clinic duty went by. Two more weeks packed full of dealing with mistreated, malnourished, and ill Ailonian slaves. Two more weeks of watching escapees get murdered by their guards. Two more weeks of packing away old corpses the Avennians had collected while waiting for a chance to deposit them with an ARF unit. Two more weeks of incredibly bland food, fitful sleep, and nightmares about the Cadrian Casino.
During that time, Thaddeus agreed to help Ria Parri out on a mission. But she wouldn’t tell him the details; she was clearly conflicted on whether or not to trust him. He was also conflicted. After the events of Waverly and Cadria Minor, he felt burned out on fighting. Could he really get involved with a new Ailonian insurrection?
And yet, deep inside, he still harbored guilt of knowing that the Ailonian captivity was partially his fault. They might have won their independence if not for him. With that in mind, was it possible for him to not get involved?
Additionally, it was obvious to him that Ria, the clinic administrator, was now infatuated with him. Chet no longer checked in on him to see how he was adjusting to life on Ailon. Ria took that duty herself, now. And she’d been clearly singling him out and arranging schedules so that they’d work and take breaks together, and the way she spoke to him had changed greatly. With the others, she was still fierce, almost forceful in the way she led them. Now, she was much softer with Thaddeus, although she hadn’t openly admitted any feelings to him.
It was night again. The moon was nearly full, and the same crew that had raided the refinery was now headed away in an ARF box truck, with their stolen materials in the back. He had no idea what Ria’s secret mission was, but he knew that those materials would vigorously catch fire if mixed.
The engine droned on as the truck navigated the highways north of Zhale, with Chet Savoy driving. Thaddeus sat in the second row of the cab, next to Ria, who clearly just wanted to sit next to him. During the short trip, she’d tried to make small talk with him, but he hadn’t indulged her.
As quiet as he naturally was, and as much as he’d kept to himself since arriving on Ailon, Thaddeus knew she wasn’t really interested in him. She couldn’t be. She knew nothing about him, and nearly everything he’d said about himself since coming to Ailon was a lie. His actions at the refinery fire had drawn her attention, but she didn’t know that he was Thaddeus Marcell, the pirate who bore the blame for the Ailonian rebels losing their war against Avennia.
Something else bothered him, too, a random thought that had occurred to him in the aftermath of their chemical theft. He twisted slightly in his seat, turning to the right to face her. “Ria?”
She looked back at him, and he knew from the way her expression changed that just the simple act of him saying her name had brightened her mood considerably. “Yes, Chad?”
“I need to know something.” He leaned in closer and whispered so only she would hear. “Did the ARF start the fire at that bauxite refinery?”
Her expression darkened. Then she shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “We had nothing to do with that. It was a real accident.”
He turned to watch out the window as the truck drove past the rolling, moonlit hills of Ailon. The short, yellowish-colored grass that grew seemingly everywhere, planted as part of Avennia’s terraforming of the planet decades ago, looked pale and gray in the dim moonlight.
In the distance, he saw lights, and knew they were reaching their destination. He didn’t know what it was, though, or even what their goals were, but judging from the chemicals in the cargo bed behind him, Thaddeus was confident that Ria intended to create a fire of some kind. For what purpose he didn’t know, and she still wouldn’t tell him. The rational parts of his brain told him to not get involved, especially since he knew nothing. But the curious parts of his brain won that b
attle, and so here he was.
Had Ria told him the truth about the refinery fire? Probably. Ailonian slaves had died as a result, so it seemed unlikely that the Foundation would do that. But how many other operations like this had the ARF—or maybe just Clinic 12, he wasn’t sure of the scope—performed? He wished she would trust him enough to tell him more.
The truck got closer, and Thad realized their destination was a spaceport. On closer inspection, it wasn’t much of a spaceport, more of a large concrete landing pad with a few buildings around it. A couple of simple canvas-covered hangars, one warehouse, and a communications center of some kind, but no terminals or checkpoints or even guard towers.
Ria slid across the seat towards him and he felt her hand come to rest on his right bicep. “Zhale’s spaceport,” she said softly. “It’s only used to ship out the refineries’ products. No slaves ever move through here, so there’s almost no security.”
“Convenient,” he replied. She stayed close to him, her hand on his arm, and watched past him as the truck drove straight onto the tarmac and approached a freighter which was parked under one of the large canvas hangars. The spaceport was quiet, and either nobody noticed their approach, or nobody cared. The ARF seemed ignored, as long as no slaves were around. But how long would that last if they began setting fire to things?
The truck stopped and Chet shut down the engine. Ria finally let go of Thad’s arm, and the crew quickly exited the truck.
They were parked under the canvas, behind the freighter. The loading ramp into the freighter’s cargo bay was deployed, and it amazed Thad just how little thought was given to security here. Avennia wasn’t concerned about guarding anything except for their slaves.
And maybe they shouldn’t be. Among the planet’s population, there were slaves, and there were Avennian occupiers. Free Ailonians were very few in number, trying to avoid attention lest they become enslaved, too. And the ARF was complicit. Who else would they need to secure themselves from?
In a way, it reminded him of the war at Tor, many years ago. The Tor Regency was a small state in the Independent Regions. Despite being filthy rich, it had had almost no defenses because they believed they had no enemies. But someone attacked them, and Thaddeus, then just a captain in the Organization, had been given a task force and contracted out to defend Tor from their invaders.
Snapping his attention back to the present, he took a long moment to examine the freighter. It was a smaller model, around a hundred meters long, and it looked oddly familiar. Suddenly recognizing its design, he shuddered. It was the same model he’d boarded years ago during his pirate attack on the old rebel convoy.
Behind the truck, Chet, Jason, and Harve groaned as they worked to lower the barrels and crates from the cargo box without dropping them. “So what’s the plan?” Thad asked quietly.
“Sabotage this freighter,” Ria replied straightforwardly. “Chad, follow me.” She boldly walked towards the cargo ramp, Thad following a few steps behind her. They ascended the ramp which took them three meters up from the ground, and entered the long cargo bay on the starboard side of the vessel. It ran for over half of the ship’s length, stopping towards the aft where the thrusters, reactor, and hyperdrive were.
The cargo bay was nearly full. Stacks of barrels and crates and bins were everywhere, and he realized the freighter was probably taking off within the next day. They quietly passed through the bay, stepping through small aisles left between the stacks of cargo, and entered the ship’s central corridor. Nobody was aboard and so the lights were set very low, just in standby mode, looking like nightlights in a child’s bedroom.
Thaddeus stopped and shuddered again. This ship was far cleaner, in far better condition than the one he’d boarded…he realized he was trembling.
And Ria could see it. She was watching him closely, when she thought he was looking away. “Chad, are you okay?” she finally asked.
He shook his head as if that could somehow clear his mind. It didn’t work. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.” Her expression said she was unconvinced, so he decided to quickly steer their conversation back to business. “How do you plan to sabotage this?” he asked.
“Let’s find the reactor room,” she said. They walked towards the rear, side-by-side, in silence, and passed through the open hatch into the engineering compartment. The lights were dim and the fusion reactor was silent. The ship was in standby mode, powered only by its banks of backup batteries.
Ria looked around at the compartment, as if she was looking for something, but she seemed distracted. Thad just stood in place and watched her, still not sure what her plan was. They had crates of aluminum powder and barrels of lye. Once mixed together and with water, the reaction would be vigorous and instant. Were they just going to mix it and run, and hope they didn’t get caught? He hoped not.
She still looked distracted, as if struggling to make a decision. Then, sighing, she turned to face him. “While we’re alone here, can we just talk a minute?”
He stuffed his hands into his pockets and nodded. “Yeah. What about?”
“Us.” Uh-oh. Thad looked down at the deck. “Chad, I can tell, in the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking. I know you’re interested in me, but you seem afraid. You’re holding back, and I need to know why, or if that can change.”
Now’s not the time for this, Ria. We’re on a sabotage mission. And besides, I don’t have my own feelings sorted out on this matter, and I’m not ready to figure it out. “It’s complicated,” he said, still looking down and afraid to meet her eyes.
“How so?” she asked. “Listen, I know you’re hurting somehow. It’s obvious to everyone.” She stepped closer to him. “Can’t you open up? Even a little bit? I’m here for you. I want to be here for you.” She smiled nervously.
And he was at a loss for words. His cover story didn’t include this contingency, and he felt divided. Inside, much of him wanted to, but just as much told him it was a bad idea. He’d been doing his best to delay this moment, hoping that maybe it would never come and he wouldn’t have to face it. But she’d just forced it, and he had no idea how to proceed.
“Is there someone else?” she asked. He shook his head, remaining silent as he thought of Adelia. Last he knew, she was on Headquarters being debriefed by Gray Fleet. But she was free to leave if she wanted, and he knew he might never see her again. “Then what is it?”
His mouth suddenly felt dry. “I really can’t say. I don’t know how to say.”
She took another step forward, and then she reached out and grabbed his mechanical forearm lightly. She pulled it towards her and examined it. “Is it this?” she asked. “War and fighting? You’re so battle-hardened that you don’t know how to interact with people anymore? You’ve locked yourself up in a shell and won’t let anyone in?”
That’s a small part of it. But if I admit that, she’ll try even harder to pull me out. He just continued to keep silent.
“Chad, I can see the conflict on your face. Why is this so complicated for you?” She released his arm and he let it fall limply back to his side. “You’re not alone here. Everyone on Ailon is hurting somehow. You are, I am, the rest of the clinic, the slaves, all the ARF workers…” She took another half step forward, and now they were nearly touching. “Chad…forget about whatever’s conflicting you. Ailon is a tough world. Live for right now. There might not even be a tomorrow for us to sort things out. Please, for just a minute, don’t fight me.” She suddenly embraced him.
He slowly embraced her in return, and they spent a long minute in each other’s arms while standing by the freighter’s reactor. And for that minute, he pushed everything out of his mind. He pushed out his guilt. He pushed out that he was Thaddeus Marcell, the pirate responsible for Ailon’s condition. He pushed out his search for Earth, his thoughts of his own Organization, his lingering, misplaced feelings for Adelia, and his fear of hurting Ria.
Then, just as sudden as her embrace, she reached up, placing a hand on th
e back of his neck, and pulled his face down towards hers for an unexpected kiss. A short one. Something in his heart softened up enough that now he didn’t want to let go of her. But he had to. “Ria?” he said softly. “Let’s do what we came here to do.” She pulled back slightly, placed her hands on his biceps, and looked up at him. “And listen. You’re right, I’m very complicated. I still don’t know…but thank you.” He released her. She stood there, close to him with her hands on his forearms. “I know you care. That’s way more than I’m used to.”
“If you ever want to open up and talk, I’ll listen. And if not, you still don’t have to be alone.” She smiled. “Now, let’s find the hyperdrive.”
“That’s easy,” Thad said. He pointed past the reactor. “It’s in the next compartment back there, behind that hatch.”
As if on cue, Jason and Chet both entered the room, breathing hard and pushing a pair of carts loaded down with their stolen chemicals. Thad smiled weakly at Ria and then turned to the others.
A moment later, Harve came in with a medium-sized box in his hands.
“Okay. What’s the plan here?” asked Thad, still wishing he’d known details before they’d set out. But they still had no idea that he was actually quite experienced in these sort of matters.
Ria pointed at the hyperdrive compartment. “Stack these up on top of the hyperdrive core. We have a temperature sensor to attach to the drive, and a small charge to put between the barrels. The freighter takes off, and sometime while in hyperspace the charge will break open these containers. The chemicals will mix and ignite. It’ll melt through the hyperdrive casing and this ship will never be seen again.”
Thad frowned sharply. Nobody knew what happened to starships that suffered hyperdrive failures while in hyperspace. They just disappeared forever. “And what does that accomplish?”
“This ship is loaded with materials processed by slaves, and it’s going to Avennia to benefit Avennians, not Ailonians,” she stated matter-of-factly.
