Cabal of Lies

by Michael Anderle

  “You know what I find funny?” Jia pulled out her chair, her angry gaze burning into Gunter. “Criminals being sent to rot on space stations, never to see natural light again. Like I told you, no matter what, you’ll be doing time, but if you give us information, maybe you get to see real sunlight before you die. If you can afford a de-aging treatment, you can even start over and use your prison experience to make sure you don’t end up on the wrong side of the law again.”

  Gunter shrugged. “I didn’t plan this job, at least not the target. I’m just a freelance procurer of goods. I’ll give you all the passwords you need to access my relevant accounts.”

  “You’re going to give them up that easily?”

  He nodded. “You’ll find them eventually. Consider this a gesture of goodwill. If you go through my data, you’ll also find I don’t take hit contracts. It’s beneath me.”

  “You’re a real humanitarian,” Erik commented. “But you don’t mind killing people along the way.”

  “Sure, accidents happen on a job, but I’m not going out there looking to kill people. I’m not that different than most people who go to work every day.”

  Jia nodded slowly, some of the anger easing off her face. “If you’re a hired goon, then who hired you? Your crew kicked the ball to you, and here’s your chance to kick it to someone else.”

  “As much I’d love to tell you, I don’t know the answer.”

  Jia eyed him. “You robbed a bank with an eleven-man crew, and you don’t know the client?”

  “I’m telling the truth,” Gunter insisted. “When you guys finish going through my accounts, you’ll see that. It was an anonymous off-world transfer after a few encrypted exchanges using aliases. We were supposed to go to the bank, get access to a particular vault, and grab a data rod. We were then going to connect to the data rod and transmit a signal, which would bounce to another transmitter that was being sent to a comm satellite allegedly controlled by the client. They’re the ones who sent us instructions for all that.”

  “What’s on the rod?” Jia probed.

  Gunter shrugged. “How the hell would I know?”

  “Because you brought eleven armed men into a bank to get it.”

  “We were paid to get the rod, not ask stupid-ass questions.” Gunter’s nostrils flared, and he bared his teeth. “It would have gone fine, but the stupid guard and customer wanted to be heroes and some of my career professionals performed below expectations. I tried to stop the situation from spiraling out of control before someone got shot, but one of the men got heated and things got out of control. I’m sure that’s also on the footage.”

  “And who was that?” Erik asked.

  They had gone over the footage, but sometimes it was helpful to catch a criminal in a lie to apply additional pressure.

  “Don’t worry,” Gunter suggested. “He’s dead already. Check out the cameras in the bank if you don’t believe me. I’m guessing you two wasted him when you first came in. I heard a lot of gunfire from where I sent him. Poor bastard. Then again, it’s kind of instant karma.”

  “So you brought a huge crew to steal a data rod, and you didn’t even know what was on it or why anyone wanted it?” Jia infused all the incredulity she could manage into her voice.

  “Job’s a job.” Gunter gave her a bright smile. “No use crying over it now. If you two weren’t nearby, we probably would have gotten away with it. We just needed a few more minutes. We could have cut through those pathetic cops outside without any trouble. I am good at what I do, compared to the average cop.”

  Jia leaned forward, glaring at the suspect. “Fine. Let’s say we believe you. If you want us to pass along that you cooperated, you’re going to tell us exactly where and what data rod you were supposed to steal.”

  He smiled. “Anything for a pretty lady.”

  “Vault B2, Box Number 239,” Jia explained over the call, leaning back in her desk chair. “Our suspect said they were trying to get a data rod in that safe deposit box. We need to know who owns it. This wasn’t a random robbery.”

  They had finished the interrogation about an hour prior.

  Gunter didn’t have much else useful to tell them. He gave them a few passwords, and they sent them along to Digital Forensics. Given that the suspect didn’t even know who hired him, the detectives doubted they would be able to find out anything useful other than the full extent of Gunter’s criminality.

  Off-world accounts could be cumbersome and difficult to use, but they were helpful when trying to hide one’s trail. The same security that kept criminals from easily accessing them could also hamper the authorities.

  Jia hoped to expedite things on her end by getting the bank manager on the other end of the call to give them the information they needed. There was a good chance the target was a local. Otherwise, they would have likely stored the rod in some other city.

  The bank manager let out a long, melodramatic sigh. “That’s confidential information, Detective. Not only that, I can’t believe you’re causing us more trouble after everything that happened. You made a mess of things, and you’re now harassing us.”

  Jia shot Erik with a puzzled look. They were both on the call. He shrugged.

  “Excuse me?” Jia replied. “We stopped a robbery in progress after they’d shot a customer and a guard. If we hadn’t responded, the robbers would have breached your security and made off with a customer’s data rod.”

  “You made a huge deal of showing up,” snarled the bank manager. “It’s all over the net. Customers have terminated accounts left and right. They don’t believe our institution is safe, although the vaults weren’t breached and no customer account data was compromised. I made it clear when I contacted the authorities that this was supposed to be handled discreetly, not by turning our bank into the scene from a ridiculous action movie.”

  “Let me get this straight,” Jia began, chuckling, more confused than annoyed. “The police were supposed to respond to eleven men armed with rifles robbing your bank in a discreet manner?”

  “Yes!” the bank manager shouted.

  “How, exactly? Were we supposed to tiptoe up and ask them to join us for tea to discuss their violent robbery?”

  “How would I know? I’m a banker, not a police officer.” The manager snorted. “Now I have to tell you how to do your job?”

  “Listen here, assw—” Erik barked.

  Jia threw up a hand and mouthed, “I’ll handle it.”

  Erik nodded slowly.

  “You can take it up with the chief if you have a problem with us stopping violent robbers,” Jia explained, her tone now sickeningly sweet. “But we still need to know who that data rod belonged to, and you’re going to tell us.”

  The manager groaned. “As I told you before, it’s a matter of con—"

  “And we have a warrant.” Jia allowed herself a triumphant smile even if he couldn’t see it. After the reaction of the employee the day before, they’d already gone through the trouble of requesting the warrant. “So, if you refuse to give us the information we need despite that, you could be charged with obstruction of justice.”

  Erik grinned. “You’re not trying to hide anything, are you? Like how those guys even knew to hit your bank?”

  “No, no, no,” the manager sputtered. “Nothing like that. Fine, fine. If you have a warrant, I suppose I have no choice. Carlos Kandarian. It’s his data rod. I’m going to call him right after we finish here and inform him that you forced me under legal threat to give up that information. If he chooses to pursue a civil action against you, it’s not my fault. I hope he does.”

  Jia wished someone would invent a way to smack people over a call—something with dynamic nanite structure formation. She’d invest all her savings in such a company.

  “Duly noted,” she muttered. “And thank you for all your assistance. It’s citizens like you who make this job worthwhile.” She terminated the call before the snot could respond.

  “Who’s Carlos Kandarian?” Eri
k asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. “He didn’t explain, and you didn’t ask.”

  Jia stared at Erik, waiting for him to smile and explain he was joking. After a moment of complete silence, she asked. “You really don’t know who Carlos Kandarian is?”

  Erik shrugged. “Does he play sphere ball, or was he important in the military?”

  “He’s a former senior VP in Stella Infinitas,” Jia explained.

  She stared at him, hoping he understood why that company was important. Arguably, SI was the single most important company in the modern UTC, even more so than Ceres Galactic.

  While the first hyperspace transfer point, or HTP, had been a joint government project, every other one after that was built and maintained by SI, thanks to a UTC law guaranteeing a de facto monopoly over the decades, after the company all but bankrupted itself to build the second following several accidents.

  More than a few groups and companies had complained, but the UTC had stuck to the monopoly, arguing that the sheer scale of an HTP and their necessity made it too difficult for true competition to arise without risking the HTP network. Many people assumed that more than a few Ministers of Parliament and Prime Ministers continued to support the company because of bribes, but no one could prove anything.

  “Them I’ve heard of,” Erik offered with a shrug.

  “He’s not just any former senior VP.” Jia tapped her PNIU and entered several commands. A moment later, a hologram of a distinguished-looking white-haired man appeared. His dusky face retained a hint of his once-handsome features, but its cragginess betrayed his age.

  “How old is this guy?” Erik peered at the hologram. “If he’s rich and has that many wrinkles, he’s already been de-aged once.” He rubbed his chin, deep in thought.

  Jia shook her head. “That’s just it. He hasn’t de-aged. He’s an unmodified eighty-two, which is part of why he’s famous. A lot of people thought he would be the next CEO of SI about ten years ago, but they passed him over because of his age. He found some messages that proved it, and he took them to court over it, and they argued that since he had eschewed de-aging, he was putting his own interests before that of the shareholders. The courts sided with SI. The case has had huge implications for labor laws all over the UTC.”

  Erik turned to Jia. “I spent most of my life in the military. They already won’t let you stay after a certain number of years, and they won’t let you de-age while you’re on active duty. It’s not like I spent a lot of time paying attention to civilian labor laws.”

  Jia stared at Carlos, frowning and trying to connect the evidence. “I doubt it’s a coincidence that one of the most famous men in the UTC—well, famous to most people—had a data rod targeted by strangely well-equipped and prepared freelance criminals.”

  Erik nodded. “You think SI wants to get back at him?”

  She shook her head. “I doubt that. He ended up defending the company against some negative press a few years after that, and he’s still a shareholder, so it’s not like he hates them, or they want to destroy him.”

  “He’s rich. That’s all the motivation some people need. If it’s not SI, it might be someone else he stepped on during his journey up the corporate ladder.” Erik brought up a data window. “Let’s go over our reports, and tomorrow, we will go pay Mr. Kandarian a visit.”

  Chapter Ten

  July 23, 2229, Neo Southern California Metroplex, Home of Carlos Kandarian

  A young maid in a somber dark uniform, who was barely more than a teenager, escorted Erik and Jia down a long hallway, her expression serene but unchanging.

  Erik had saved a lot of money over his career in the military, but he wasn’t sure he could afford the rug or the handful of the paintings hanging in the hallway. He knew the art was expensive if even he could recognize it. Kandarian had an entire level on top of a tower to himself.

  Erik could only guess how expensive that might be.

  They’d sent a request to meet. Erik had expected stubborn refusal, but Kandarian’s people had replied quickly, saying he was eager to discuss the bank incident. That made sense. The bank wanted to cover their asses, but the businessman was obviously a target. They hoped he would be eager to cooperate and help lead them to whoever was targeting him.

  Erik’s and Jia’s gallery-hall trip ended after a couple of minutes when they stepped out onto a huge deck that was easily the size of Erik’s entire apartment. Despite their altitude, there was only the faintest of breezes, and the temperature was as comfortable as it had been inside. The air shimmered faintly on occasion, revealing some sort of technological aid, but other than a single wooden chair, there was nothing on the deck. Kandarian stood in front of the chair, leaning on a wooden cane and staring into the sky. The maid curtsied and disappeared back into the main house.

  All Kandarian’s taste for luxury apparently didn’t extend to his walking aids. His cane was plain brown, without any of the intricate carving, jewels, or other big wastes of credits Erik would have expected to see.

  “Thank you for coming when you said you would,” Kandarian offered, his voice deep and commanding. “There are far too many people who believe that because I’ve stepped out of the public eye, my time isn’t as valuable anymore.” He turned around and rested both hands on top of the cane. “But it remains so. Thus, I must ask you to make this conversion as efficient as possible.”

  “We just have a few questions, Mr. Kandarian,” Erik explained. “It won’t take long.”

  The old man nodded slowly, a knowing look in his eyes. “Why didn’t you just ask your questions over a call?”

  “It’s our experience that face-to-face communication is more effective in investigations.”

  “And it helps to ensure we’re talking to the intended person,” Jia elaborated. “And that they aren’t being coerced.”

  “All these wondrous machines and they can’t be trusted?” Kandarian let out a low chuckle. “But it’s not really them, now, is it? A machine’s just a tool. It’s corrupt people who choose to misuse them.” His dark gaze fixed on Jia. “I’ve read about you, Detective Lin.”

  “Mr. Kandarian, if we can—”

  He silenced her with a look. Erik almost said something, but he held back.

  They still needed the information, but he had to admit that if the man could still project that kind of intensity at eighty-two without de-aging, he must have been a terror when he was younger. Erik had met few generals with that kind of presence.

  Kandarian smiled at Jia, a predatory feeling to the expression. “A woman of your background could have gone on to greatness in the private sector, but you chose to become a detective, of all things, and I think I know why.”

  “I’ve always had a strong sense of justice,” Jia answered.

  He shook his head. “Not that at all.”

  “Oh? You know me better than I know myself?” Jia raised an eyebrow, more curiosity on her face than irritation.

  “You didn’t rise as high as I did in one of the most important companies in the UTC without knowing people better than they know themselves. That’s all business is, really—knowing what people want and making sure you have it.” Kandarian pointed a bony finger at Jia. “You became a police officer because you sensed the sickness and corruption of the UTC.” He gestured widely at the towers surrounding them, gleaming in the sunlight. “Painting garbage doesn’t change the fact that it’s garbage. A pleasant spray only conceals the stench for so long.”

  Erik cleared his throat. “Mr. Kandarian, I get that the incident at the bank shook you up, and we’d like to talk more about that. The men we apprehended were just errand boys. Someone else was targeting your data rod. You could start by telling us what’s on it. That might help narrow the range of suspects.”

  “I certainly will not tell you that.”

  “What?”

  Kandarian scoffed. “Not in detail. The data rod in question contains very sensitive information about my various financial and business holdings. A
s I noted earlier, just because I retired from the company, it doesn’t mean I don’t still have business interests. I appreciate that you’re trying to help me, but you two, of all people, should appreciate that corruption is still deeply embedded in Neo Southern California, and you can’t guarantee information from that data rod won’t be leaked to my rivals.” He shook his head firmly. “I refuse to turn it over unless you compel me via a warrant, and I’m sure I can get my lawyers to cut through that with ease, so I’d suggest you don’t waste either of our time by trying to get one.”

  “Fine,” Jia declared. “I understand information like that could be used for nefarious purposes, and you’ve already mentioned potential suspects. Business rivals. Someone like that would have the money to hire the team we took down at the bank. Do you know of any particular people who might wish you harm, financially or otherwise?”

  A light chuckle escaped his lips. “Oh, countless people. Far more than I could possibly remember.”

  “You don’t climb the ladder without kicking a lot of people off?” Erik asked.

  Kandarian turned toward him and looked him up and down. “A man is not doing another man a favor by not pushing him aside if he’s weak. It’s the only way the other man will learn to be strong. You’re a former soldier, are you not? Isn’t that the military way?”

  “I was never much for the backstabbing rear-echelon types playing politics. I served on the frontlines. Yeah, we needed our soldiers to be strong, but we trained them to be strong and taught them to work together. A military filled with backstabbers would be weak.” Erik’s heart rate kicked up. Something about the way Kandarian was looking at him irritated him. It was like he was a bug the rich bastard wanted to squash.

  “Be that as it may, the point is I have a great depth and breadth of enemies. Accordingly, it would be a waste of your time to pursue this matter.” Kandarian waved a hand dismissively and returned to looking at the sky. “I was surprised by the blatant and violent nature of this particular incident, but these things must be expected.”