Q-Gates
Page 18
By the time the outpost traveler landed outside Representative Hall, the medical suite had an answer. The president was suffering from pressure created by a brain tumor.
Lillian was rushed to the waiting traveler. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a cargo model, and security unbundled the president and handed her up the ship’s steep hatch steps.
Lucia transformed a seat into a bed, and security placed the president on it. Then Ophelia and the medical team boarded, and security exited.
Immediately, the pilot lifted, and Jess called the Jatouche station and declared an emergency medical condition for the Pyrean president. He received a priority landing bay.
Lucia regarded Lillian with concern. “Is she asleep?” she asked.
“The medical supervisor put her under,” Ophelia replied, pointing to her own temple.
Lucia leaned over Lillian and saw the small Omnian device that rendered an individual instantly unconscious.
“That was done to reduce her anxiety, which heightened blood flow to the brain,” Ophelia explained.
Jess slowly shook his head and slumped into a seat, eyeing Lillian’s comatose form.
“I know, right?” Ophelia said, taking a seat and breathing deeply through her own anxious moments. “Looks like we’ll need a redo of our last conversation.”
“I was wondering if it was me,” Jess said.
“After you left, I was angry with Lillian, and I accused her of being a child,” Ophelia said. She looked as disappointed in herself as Jess did in himself.
“We couldn’t have known,” Lucia said. “I know that the two of you feel guilty, but ask yourself why the president of a system didn’t look after her own health. She could have gotten a scan at any time.”
Ophelia noticed the medical techs bristle, but a hand signal from the commandant, which Jess caught, told them to remain quiet.
“I’m hopeful that the Jatouche can rectify this problem,” Jess said. “Although, I can’t recall them ever solving this issue for one of our people.”
“I can’t either,” Lucia replied. “However, I took the liberty of talking to a Jatouche medical director. He indicates that most tumors can be reversed, but that it takes time.”
“How long?” Ophelia asked.
“He couldn’t be specific,” Lucia replied. “According to him, it depends on the type of tumor and the placement.”
“How about a range?” Ophelia pressed.
“Half an annual to a full annual for complete remission of the tumor and clearing the body of any active cancerous cells,” Lucia replied.
“Who’s in line, while the president is out of commission?” Jess asked.
“We’ve never changed the constitution, Jess,” Ophelia replied.
“So, it’s the assembly representative, who was elected by the body,” Jess replied. “Wait a minute. Didn’t he die a few months ago? Drowning or something.”
“Yes. The representatives decided to wait until the upcoming elections to select a new senior member,” Ophelia replied.
“Who’s next?” Lucia asked, and Jess started chuckling.
“You’re looking at her,” Ophelia replied, grimacing.
“Sorry,” Lucia said, hiding her smile with a hand.
“Laugh all you want, you two,” Ophelia said.
“Sorry,” Lucia replied. “It’s just that I know how you feel. In fact, we both do.”
18: Returnees
The Triton console operator stared quizzically at the pair who appeared on the platform.
“Major Fleetfoot, did I miss the announcement about a costume fête?” the operator teased, as he stared at the fanciful costumes of Sam and Candace.
“Despite the remark, it’s good to see a human face,” Sam Fleetfoot replied. Candace and he descended the platform and headed for the ramp.
Initially, the pair endured the jibes of outpost and dome personnel, but word swiftly spread via implant that the major wasn’t in a humorous mood, and the jibes ended. However, imagery of Sam and Candace’s costumes were widely circulated.
Aboard a traveler and on the way to the outpost, Sam requested a meeting with Jess, Lucia, and Mickey. As soon as Candace and he changed, the group met in Jess and Lucia’s suite. Mickey arrived with Miriam.
“Successful investigation of the Lemgarts?” Jess inquired of Sam.
“What don’t we know?” Mickey interjected, when he saw Miriam’s blank expression.
“Apologies, Mickey, but this investigation into outpost contracts had to be kept secret,” Jess replied. “It was too sensitive.”
“The controller regularly runs summaries of outpost supplies and costs,” Lucia explained. “It reported several anomalies to Jess. One supplier continually underbid others across a spread of items.”
“Who?” Mickey asked.
“The Usaanans,” Jess replied.
“An elder race,” Mickey commented, remembering an earlier discussion.
“Sam, please report,” Jess requested.
“Let me say upfront that there might be repercussions,” Sam said. “We were forced to fight to escape. The list of possible offenses that the Usaanans might press will include stunning two of their security members. We threatened a shuttle pilot and copilot for information, and then we hijacked their shuttle to make the dome.”
Candace expected severe recrimination and was surprised to see grins on Sam, Jess, and Lucia’s faces.
“Understood,” Jess said. “But was the investigation successful?”
“Yes,” Sam replied definitively. “A group of Usaanans are using the Lemgarts as a manufacturing base, and they’re failing to report this in their proposals.”
Mickey frowned and regarded Jess.
“Mickey, there is a hierarchy of races within alliance space,” Jess explained. “The eldest races established the Tsargit and hold the greatest sway within the representative body. Many younger races have been admitted to the Tsargit and can send representatives. The third group is a collective of races who have discovered their domes and are recognized by the Tsargit, but they haven’t been invited to join. These races move individuals and goods primarily within their group. Any race who signed the Tsargit agreement is restricted from obtaining material from this third group, except for consumption by their own race. They’re prohibited from passing those materials on to other Tsargit races.”
“Which the Usaanans have now been proven to do,” Mickey surmised.
“Yes,” Jess replied.
“Does this affect any material my engineering teams have been employing?” Mickey asked.
“The Usaanans are major suppliers,” Miriam remarked. “We accept a diverse group of material from them.”
“Do we have any concerns from a structural point of view?” Mickey asked.
“Negative, Mickey,” Miriam replied. “SADEs examine everything we receive from any race to ensure the quality is acceptable.”
“Do we have a political problem?” Mickey asked, glancing from Jess to Lucia.
“Explain,” Lucia asked.
“We’ve used illegally supplied material,” Mickey replied. “What does this mean politically for the outpost’s standing? Also, is there the chance that the material could be confiscated even though it might have been consumed or incorporated into structures?”
“I think we’ll find out, Mickey, when we present our accusations to the Tsargit,” Jess replied.
“You’re going to accuse the Usaanans in the assembly?” Mickey inquired in disbelief.
Lucia rose to refresh the group’s thé mugs, except for Candace. She would serve the lieutenant caf.
“Oh, nothing so blatant,” Lucia replied, chuckling. She ran her finger across the back of Jess’s neck as she walked behind the couch. “We’re going to let the Usaanan rep walk into our trap.”
“Do tell,” Mickey said, leaning forward eagerly and rubbing his hands. Lucia’s words reminded him of hearing Alex hatch a plot.
“Yes, I’d love to hear this too
,” Sam added.
“There are three parts to the plan,” Lucia said, while she poured thé. “The first part is to finish the conversation with the president pro tempore.”
“Wait. What?” Sam queried.
“President Finian is undergoing repair aboard the Jatouche station,” Jess explained. “The medical procedure will take six to twelve months. Apparently, through odd circumstances, Commandant Tuttle is next in line.”
“That’s a good thing, right?” Mickey asked.
“That’s an absolutely wonderful thing,” Candace supplied. “Sorry, not about the president’s medical problem, but the nature of the substitute.”
Mickey looked at Jess for confirmation, and he received Jess’s nod.
“The conversation is about the new Pyrean gates, right?” Mickey inquired, warming to the plot.
“Why do I feel like the lieutenant and I have been gone for annuals instead of a month?” Sam asked. Candace and he received an abbreviated update from Miriam, and he held up a finger. “Catching up now,” he added.
“After we reach an understanding with Ophelia about the potential new gates,” Lucia continued, “the next step will be to present the discoveries made by the dome investigation teams. We expect the concept of connecting domes with available gates to cause uproar.”
“Oh, yes,” Candace said, chuckling. “The eldest races will want to dictate an entirely new map of connections.”
“At the heart of our question will be the Hyronzy dome,” Jess said.
Sam queried Miriam, and the SADE supplied the data to Candace and him that the Hyronzy dome had only one gate opening remaining, six being the maximum number of gates allowed in any one dome.
“Who has the right to say where the Hyronzy gate should connect?” Sam asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” Lucia said offhand. “That’s the point of the plot.”
“Yes,” Candace said excitedly, snapping her fingers. “If you present to the assembly instead of the council, the eldest races will clamor to make their opinions known.”
“Which are who?” Sam asked.
“I would bet on the Veklocks and the Usaanans,” Candace replied.
“Why them?” Mickey asked. “Aren’t there hundreds of these elder races?”
“True,” Candace replied, “but the most aggressive members represent the Veklocks and the Usaanans. The commander and the admiral can be sure to hear those reps speak out first and loudly.”
“Then step three is to close the trap,” Sam surmised. “The Usaanan rep makes his point known, and you say what?”
“Good question,” Jess replied. “I hadn’t gotten that far yet. I was waiting for your report. Now that everyone has fresh thé and caf, let’s review the evidence.”
Mickey leaned back in his chair in anticipation. “Can’t wait,” he said.
Sam linked the group together, and he showed a quick series of vids, which he narrated. They detailed the investigative steps that led them to their target, Fystal jer Hathwa, who would be at a club called Torque. The accommodations were changed. Then entered Myseth mya Jaknas.
The group saw Candace through Sam’s eyes, as she exited her sleeping quarters.
“Now that’s a costume,” Lucia murmured.
Candace imitated Sam’s delivery, providing snatches of vids that demonstrated her exploits in Torque.
The answer pleased Jess. He needed solid evidence. If the words and the actions originated from one of Lemgart’s upper-strata citizens, so much the better.
By Candace’s fourth vid, Lucia asked,
It would be eight cycles later that crates would arrive at the Triton dome. Instead of an address to an individual and a location, an image of Candace was affixed to each crate.
When Candace received the cargo, she opened the first crate to discover her costumes that she’d purchased. Inside one crate was a note on exquisite film, a clear material with an embedded design favored by the Lemgart fashion houses.
A SADE translated the note for Candace. It read: “My associates and I cheered your successful exit. It’s hoped that the pair of you were unharmed during your escape. My dressers recovered the costumes and other clothing from your suite. Know that most Lemgarts don’t behave as those you sought. Stay safe, and may fortune ride beside you.” It was signed: Myseth mya Jaknas.
Candace framed the note and hung it on her cabin’s bulkhead. Over time, many more notes would grace her walls, as she rose in the ranks.
When Sam and Candace finished sharing their vids, Jess and Lucia received a link from Miriam. The entire set of recordings from Sam and Candace resided in one location on the outpost’s controller.
“Do you have what you need?” Sam asked Jess.
“More than we need,” Jess replied. “My congratulations to you and Candace on a successful investigation.”
The meeting broke up, and Sam went in search of Kasie. He queried the controller, but Kasie’s implant wasn’t located. He considered that Kasie might be on the planet or the Jatouche medical station.
The list of humans assisting the SADEs stopped Sam in his tracks. Mickey’s partner and two of his favorite engineers had offered to help the SADEs. That trio’s efforts made his objection shrink in comparison.
* * * * *
Ophelia arrived at the outpost. She met with Sam for more than two hours about the ongoing investigations into prospective outpost personnel and trade associations. Then she made for Jess and Lucia’s suite.
Lucia prepared caf for their visitor and had a mug ready when Ophelia walked through the doorway.
“Thank you,” Ophelia said to Lucia, as she accepted the steaming mug. “How is it the outpost makes better caf than anywhere on the planet?” she asked.
“Not anywhere,” Jess replied, grinning. “Remind you of any caf you’ve had?”
“It’s as good as Gene’s,” Ophelia replied. “He had that little shack on the lake.”
Jess tweaked his eyebrows up comically.
“No,” Ophelia said, drawing out the word. “He swore he’d never part with his secret.”
“Pyreans working on the outpost raved about Gene’s caf,” Lucia explained. “A SADE visited Gene, and an agreement was reached. The SADE learned the products and the process. In return, she helped Gene improve his recipe. Then the end result was incorporated into our food stock and dispensers.”
Ophelia shook her head in wonder. “The amazing capabilities of SADEs.”
“And consider this,” Jess said. “SADEs don’t even drink liquids or eat food.”
“It makes you wonder about the future,” Ophelia murmured. Then she sipped on her caf, settled into her chair, and said, “Let’s discuss Pyrean gates. I’d like to hear what the outpost would like to do with the opportunity of five new gates.”
Jess explained.
Ophelia sat quietly, observing Jess and Lucia communicate privately. The silence was telling. The moment she’d requested their opinions, she realized that she’d used an opening gambit often employed with suspects to give them an opportunity to tell investigators something that they didn’t know. That Jess and Lucia were discussing her request told her that she’d made a mistake and underestimated her audience.
“I’d like to start again,” Ophelia said. “What I said sounds too much like the conversation that you started with Lillian. Let’s discuss how we can accommodate the near and distant futures with the opportunities we have available. Of course, that is until you figure out how to create our own domes and gates.”
Jess laughed at the thought of recreating the Messinant engineering marvels, but Lucia wore a thoughtful expression.
Two of us live in the present, and one focuses on the future, Ophelia thought.
“Let me ask you what Pyre’s priorities are within alliance space?” Jess asked. “Is it worthwhile to Pyreans to have us lobby for a connection to Hyronzy?”
“I think you’d encounter enormous resistance if you sought that,” Ophelia replied. “Personally, I don’t think I’d like the Tsargit that close. By the way, I’ll have to run our suggestions past the assembly members. They’ll have to agree on what we propose.”
“Understood,” Jess replied.
“There are powerful allies of Pyre outside of alliance space,” Lucia suggested.
“Sol and the colonies,” Ophelia surmised. “I wouldn’t want to see all or most of the gates connecting to worlds outside of alliance space. That would serve to separate us from the Tsargit.”
“Which of those distant locations might be a priority for Pyre?” Jess asked.
“All of them are in the far future,” Ophelia pointed out. “Until those worlds have domes, then our conversation is moot. There’s the distinct possibility Triton could have multiple domes someday.”