by M. D. Cooper
“It’s a blur. I couldn’t really say. I do know I was attacked by TSF soldiers in Baikanur. Do you know anything about that?”
Ferrel raised her eyebrows. “It would make sense if a local unit was attempting to keep you on Earth. You are a wanted woman.”
“And here I am, a guest of the Anderson Collective. You aren’t making your side look that appealing.”
“You’re in my custody,” Ferrel said, as if reminding her.
“I just met you,” Cara said. “I don’t know if anything you say matters.”
Ferrel didn’t like being belittled. Her nostrils flared.
“You don’t have to believe me, but I’m here to help you. You can explain to me why you’re on Luna, or you can piss away what little goodwill I have for you.”
Cara smiled, rotating her wrists inside the restraints. “Is that a rhetorical question? I’m a literal person, so let me ask you this—was your father murdered in front of you by a Psion mech? Probably not.”
The colonel’s face grew taut, but she said nothing.
“For a long time, I thought I was going to be the one to lead the charge against Psion,” Cara said. “Then, you know what happened? Nothing. My mother was gone, my brother and I were orphans, and that was it. Life goes on. You gotta eat, right?” She shrugged. “That was thirty years ago. I assume the TSF has plenty of reasons to want to put me back in prison. The regional authorities in Jerhattan got to me first. That was the risk I took when I came to Earth.”
“Why did you come at all?”
“I had something I had to do.”
“And your crew? Where is the Forward Momentum right now?”
“How would I know? I’ve been in prison for three years, and I sold my interest in the ship.”
The colonel shifted in her seat, watching Cara.
Cara relaxed as much as her restraints allowed, looking back at the other woman. She had assumed they would throw her in a local jail until the various warrants for her arrest were sorted out. Now the questions about her crew made her wonder if they were going to try and leverage her against some new set of crimes she didn’t even know about.
While saving the Andersonian chancellor might have seemed at the time like the wild card that might save her from the situation, in the end, it had simply been the right thing to do. She couldn’t expect anything to come of it.
With no local help, she supposed she could call Lyssa. She didn’t want to do that.
Cara waited for the colonel to decide what she was going to do. The woman maintained her hard expression, but was probably carrying on a Link conversation.
“The first group of Andersonians you encountered here on Luna,” the colonel said. “Who were they?”
Cara blinked, surprised by the question.
“They were nobodies. Workers. They brought the lander in with a transporter.”
“How long did you talk with them?”
“Thirty minutes, maybe. It didn’t take long for their security to arrive.”
“And from there, you were moved to their governmental compound.”
“As far as I know,” Cara said.
“But you were free to leave, because you did.”
“Yes.”
“And then you went back?”
“Obviously.”
Sinda got a distant look in her eyes again as she consulted something over the Link.
“The Andersonians trust you.”
“I suppose.”
“It’s not a question. They already had the story May Walton set up when you were a girl. Then you leave Earth in a rocket of all things, which could be seen as a symbol from their ideological past.”
“That’s a stretch,” Cara said.
The colonel ignored her. “You are allowed to be rescued by members of their workers’ class.”
“Allowed?”
“Yes. Adding to their cultural stories.”
“Apparently I’m quite the vid star,” Cara said. “I wasn’t aware until they told me about it.”
Sinda gave her a frown. “And then you save the life of their chancellor.”
“I was in the right place at the right time.”
“I think you’re working for the Anderson Collective,” the colonel said, leaning forward. “You may not have completely gone over to Humanity First, but your history and actions make your sympathies easy enough to read.”
Cara blinked. She remained relaxed, but found herself running through all her assumptions up to this point. Her guess that Felix had to be associated with SolGov had included the TSF, but obviously SolGov and the TSF weren’t communicating…or Ferrell wasn’t read-in on whatever plan Felix was a part of.
Was this part of the subterfuge? Should she deny any support for the Collective? Tell this woman that she was working for SolGov?
And if she was asked to provide proof, what would she say?
“I am not working for the Anderson Collective,” Cara said. “Whatever that would mean. Did I escape prison? Yes. Everything else has been a matter of grabbing opportunities when I had them.”
“Why on Earth did you leave on an ancient rocket, then?”
Cara raised her eyebrows. “Seemed like an exciting thing to do.”
The colonel slammed her hands on the table.
“And I was broke,” Cara added.
“How did you even know its location?”
“I’d heard stories.”
Sinda shook her head. “If you aren’t going to cooperate, you’re going back to a cell.”
“As long as there’s a bed where I can get some sleep, that sounds all right with me.”
The colonel shoved her chair back and stood, face red with anger.
“You’re either lying, or you’re a fool,” she spat.
Cara smiled. “I’m a person who doesn’t care. You choose.”
The colonel opened her mouth to rebuke Cara, then caught herself. She appeared to have another Link conversation.
Cara watched the woman regain her composure, followed by a deep breath.
“The chancellor is awake,” she said.
“That’s good news.”
“He’s requesting your presence. He wants to thank you personally.”
“Isn’t it more important for you to lock me up? He’d probably understand.”
Colonel Ferrel turned, and the door slid open in front of her. She stepped through, back stiff, and barked for the soldiers outside to bring Cara.
“I’m not going anywhere without my things, Sinda,” she called after the colonel.
There was a second in which Cara thought she might have pushed it too far, then the colonel shouted for someone else to bring her possessions.
With the restraints released, Cara stood and stretched luxuriously. The soldiers watched her, one staring more than was professional, and Cara dropped her arms.
“After you,” she said.
They didn’t restrain her arms for the trip to a transport shuttle, and in ten minutes, the group was out of the clinic and flying across New Austin.
Colonel Ferrel sat across from Cara, scowling the whole time.
TRUST
STELLAR DATE: 3.22.3011 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: LaSal Medical Facility, New Austin
REGION: Luna, Terran Hegemony, InnerSol
The local TSF and whoever told Felix what to do were definitely not working together, Cara deduced. At the hospital, Ferrel was met by several more high-ranking TSF officers, who looked at Cara as if she was a wild animal without a cage.
She was led into the interior of the hospital, a warren of ceramic and plas that reminded her strongly of Heartbridge, until they reached a secure area with guard points at each intersection, and finally the room where the chancellor was in recovery.
“Cara Sykes,” Osla said weakly when he saw her.
He tried to sit up in the med-lounge, and an attendant urged him to remain flat. He waved him away. The chancellor pointed at two people standing in the corner of
the room, the only two in civilian clothes.
“My personal recorders,” he said. “I want to capture this moment. This is special. Please.”
He waved for Cara to come to the side of his bed, then reached a hand around her waist, pulling her against him.
The two recorders stepped in closer, staring at the two of them.
Cara glanced at the TSF officers on the edge of the room. Ferrel caught her helpless expression and raised an eyebrow.
Two people in Andersonian uniforms stood on the far side of the room, watching the show with no apparent concern. The stars on their uniforms indicated high rank, but she supposed no one in the Collective could tell Osla what to do.
“My savior,” Osla croaked. “Can you all hear me? Get closer. I want every worker to hear my words. Our savior is here.”
“Chancellor,” Cara said. “I only did what anyone would do. You were under attack.”
“Listen to this humility,” he rasped. “She denies her heroism. Not everyone could perform as you did, because you were the only one to rise to my side. I can never repay you. But I can offer you the greatest honor in my power. I ask you to be my guardian. You knew Harl Nines when you were a girl, and his service to May Walton was unparalleled. I ask you to serve at my side the same way.”
Cara balked.
“Chancellor, that’s such an honor. I—I’m overwhelmed.”
“I can see that. I can—”
Osla stopped talking, squeezing his eyes closed. The hand around Cara’s waist slid, losing strength.
“Is he all right?” Cara asked.
The nurse pushed past the recorders and quickly checked the overhead monitor.
“Get back,” she commanded. “Everyone out.”
“What’s going on?” Ferrel asked.
“He’s going into cardiac arrest again. The strain on his lungs weakened his heart. We’re probably going to need to augment, so he’ll be going into surgery.”
“There will be no surgery without the express permission of the Council,” one of the Andersonians said.
The nurse gave him a smirk. “I’m calling the doctors in here now, and the NSAI is prepping. You had better consult your council, or this man is going to die.”
Cara pulled away from Osla’s limp grasp and placed his arm at his side before it could fall away from the lounge.
“Come on,” Ferrel said, taking her upper arm. “We need to get out of here. You and I aren’t done talking.”
Out in the corridor, Cara said, “I thought I was going to a prison cell with a bed where I could get some sleep?”
Two doctors rushed past them and ran through the door into Osla’s room. The door slid closed on one of the doctors arguing with the Andersonian officer.
“Come on,” Ferrel said.
They put her in a maintenance closet for what felt like an hour. Cara found her Link was still suppressed, so all she could do was sit with her back against a wall and watch the blinking lights on charging cleaning drones.
Eventually, sleep overcame her, and she woke to a hand on her shoulder.
“The colonel is ready for you,” the soldier said.
Cara followed the sergeant down several white corridors—not passing by Osla’s room, as far as she could tell—until they arrived at a conference room for the medical staff.
Colonel Ferrel was sitting at the head of the table, which was lined with several people in civilian clothes that Cara had never seen before. The man nearest to Cara stood and motioned for her to take the seat at the end of the table, opposite Colonel Ferrel.
As she came around the table, Cara noticed the box with her belongings sitting next to the wall.
“Hello,” she said, sitting down. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure. Except for Colonel Ferrel—we go way back. I don’t think she likes me.”
The quip earned scattered smiles. The man who had motioned for her to sit cleared his throat.
“My name is Jentry Price. My associates are Pedro Larenson and Amanda Kinye.”
The two on the other side of the table nodded but didn’t speak. Pedro was a big man with a neck wider than his head, while Amanda looked like the CEO of an accounting firm.
Jentry wore an executive suit, open at the collar, with silver cufflinks. His black hair was slicked back, making his most distinctive features a blade-shaped nose and gray eyes.
“Cara Sykes. Everyone here seems to know me.”
“Right,” Jentry said. “I won’t waste any time, since we don’t have much. Once Osla comes out of surgery, he’s going to want to know where you are again. Based on your reaction in there, you don’t sound too excited about his offer.”
“Indenturing myself to the Chancellor of the Anderson Collective for the rest of my life?” Cara asked. “What’s not to love?”
“We’d like you to accept his offer.”
“Who is we?” Cara looked among the faces around the table.
Colonel Ferrel watched Jentry like a predator.
“I represent TSF Special Operations,” Jentry said. “You are in a unique position to gain access to the Anderson Collective, and we would like to exploit that opportunity.”
The urge to mention Felix and his current plan to do the same thing crossed Cara’s mind, but she stopped herself. At least she could see these people in person. They might be lying about their identities, but they were sitting face to face.
“Do you work for Colonel Ferrel?” Cara asked.
“No,” Jentry said.
His tone suggested the colonel might work for him—or his boss.
“You have no reason to trust me,” Cara said. “Why would you want me in such a position? As Colonel Ferrel said just a few hours ago, I’m a pirate, a criminal. The TSF has warrants for my arrest. I should be in prison.”
“That’s true,” Jentry said. “I wasn’t going to mention that. Didn’t want to be rude. But there’s an opportunity here for all of us to get something we want. You help us with Osla, and we could commute those charges.”
“For how long?” Cara asked.
Jentry glanced at Amanda, who leaned forward.
“We have reason to believe Humanity First has infiltrated the Anderson Collective,” she said.
Cara raised an eyebrow. “I thought that was common knowledge. Didn’t Humanity First start with the Collective?”
“It goes deeper than that,” Amanda continued. “There are indications that factions in Psion are behind the rise of Humanity First. The assassination attempt on Chancellor Osla could be part of this infiltration.”
“Psion is supporting an anti-SAI group?” Cara said. “All right, I’ll bite. What incentive would they have to assassinate Osla?”
“Psion wants an extremist in control of the Collective. Intelligence suggests there will be attempts on other heads of state as well. The assassinations will lead to declarations of war.”
“On Humanity First?”
“Humanity First will lay the kindling. Psion will provide the flame.”
“Well, that’s depressing,” Cara said. “I would think if you wanted to learn more about Humanity First infiltrating the Anderson Collective, following the chancellor around isn’t a good way to do it. They just tried to kill him. What’s he going to know?”
Jentry smiled. He nodded to the others. “We’re taking bets on whether or not Osla instigated the whole thing. He’s as Humanity First as they come.”
Cara held her hands up. “This is some next-level intrigue. It’s not really my cup of tea. You want something smuggled? I can do that. Hacked? I’m pretty good. But all this spycraft stuff is not in my skill set. I break things and blow stuff up. Check my resume.”
Pedro laughed. “She’s all right, boss.”
Colonel Ferrel stood. “Apparently you have this in hand, Agent Smalls. I have work to do. Just remember I don’t have a large garrison here. If your team starts anything, you’re mostly on your own.”
“That’s how we like it,” Jentry said. He
waited until the colonel had left, then told Cara, “We know where you come from, Captain Sykes. You’re the kind of asset we should have had on our side from the start. Depending on how all this plays out, your walkabout in the Scattered Disk could be forgotten by the TSF, and possibly SolGov as well.”
“Last I heard, the Scattered Disk wasn’t your jurisdiction,” Cara said.
Jentry gave her a smile. “It’s all our jurisdiction until someone kicks us out.”
“I’ll tell you what,” Cara said. “Get me something to eat, and I’ll think about it. I’m starving.”
“We can do that,” Jentry said. “Pedro there makes a mean BLT.”
“He’s going to cook?” Cara asked, giving the big man a skeptical eye. “I’ll try it just to see that.”
“We don’t have time, boss,” Pedro said, looking sad. “There’s a noodle place down on the promenade level.”
“Let’s go,” Jentry said.
They rose. Pedro and Amanda went to the door.
Cara felt a little lost. “That’s it? We’re leaving? Am I still under arrest?”
“Are you?” Jentry asked. “You tell me. Grab your stuff there. We borrowed this room from the nurse’s rotation. I don’t know who’s going to be in there next.”
As they all filed out, Cara snatched up her pistol and the book. She felt more comfortable with the holster back on her belt and the book in her cargo pocket.
She thought about checking in with Felix, then decided to wait. These people were spies. They most likely had her Link under surveillance. If she tried to call out, she’d be questioned. Felix would call her as soon as it was safe… but why should she want him to contact her? Felix was as much a mystery as these people.
Call Lyssa.
No.
Lyssa would know what had happened. She would come soon enough. That was inevitable.
Ferrel’s mention of the Action Objective and her old crew had brought back a flood of memories, making Cara feel as though she’d been drugged since leaving the prison. Everything that had happened since then had been on autopilot until Ferrel reminded her that she had walked away from her life to deliver the case.
The case with her mother’s voice in its data store, which was now destroyed.
