by M. D. Cooper
Terrance knew his management style was more in the vein of ‘meet them head-on and damn the consequences’, compared to Sophia’s far subtler—and, he admitted to himself often more devious—methods. He just wished they weren’t necessary at all.
Yeah, I might be a tiny bit jealous of Daniel and Aaron, Terrance thought as he watched his security chief visually sweep the area. The slightest reflection off his eyes as he turned was the only indication that the man’s gaze was augmented.
“So, Daniel, why did you insist we show up right at 12:30? What’s so important abou—”
Terrance broke off as they entered the restaurant and his eyes alighted on the CEO of TransOrbital Systems, seated at a nearby table, her hand resting lightly on the arm of the man across from her. The man she’d obviously just finished lunching with—the owner of Avalon Mining.
The woman at the table glanced up and saw Terrance. A slight, knowing smile played around her lips, and she raised her glass to him in a mock salute before turning her attention back to the gentleman across from her.
The owner of Avalon Mining, Jerrod Seele, smiled broadly, extending his hand for her to shake. She returned the handshake, and they both rose.
As the servitor arrived to escort Terrance’s party to their private booth, the man turned, his eyes meeting Terrance’s and then flinching away. Smile frozen in place, he nodded in Terrance’s general direction as they passed.
Well, shit.
Daniel’s prior cryptic remarks about something Terrance needed to see with his own eyes now made sense. He wouldn’t have minded if just this once, Daniel had been proven wrong.
The scene he’d just witnessed truly surprised him. He’d thought Enfield’s partnership with Seele, and with Avalon Mining, was solid. Avalon employed a bevy of AIs and had a reputation for treating every employee the same, regardless of species.
The Enfield ships Avalon had purchased in the past were all capable of being captained by an AI as easily as a human. Every Enfield ship design had modules for AIs built into it, for that very purpose.
In contrast, TransOrbital Systems catered to companies that were still uncomfortable in a galaxy that acknowledged AIs as people and guaranteed them equal rights under the Phobos Accords.
TransOrbital Systems marketed themselves as a company whose fleet of spacecraft were purely NSAI-run. Their NSAI interface, they claimed, was as good as it got, ‘without the need for an AI’.
Avalon signing a deal with TSO? It made no sense.
Nothing was said until Terrance’s group was seated, the servitor had taken their order, and Daniel had activated security settings at their table to ensure their conversation was neither overheard nor recorded.
Terrance looked at Calista and then his security chief. “Didn’t see that coming,” he muttered, reaching out to pour a glass of water from the table’s carafe. He looked up at Daniel as he poured. “What else do I need to know about the scene I just witnessed?”
Daniel traded glances with Calista. “First, I’ll tell you what I know, then I’ll tell you what I suspect.” He leaned forward, placing his forearms on the table, hands clasped.
“TransOrbital has made no secret of the fact that they want Avalon’s business. I’ve heard about several instances in the past three weeks where TSO personnel have been seen cozying up to Avalon execs.” He looked up at Terrance, who gave him a nod to indicate he understood.
“There’s something else.” Daniel paused. “Yesterday morning, one of my men said he saw one of our techs being harassed at a bar by someone who looked pretty rough around the edges. The bully left before my guy could make it over there, but he got a fairly good look at the man—and he thinks it was one of Victoria North’s people.”
Terrance pursed his lips, his mind racing through the many undesirable implications of that connection.
Daniel continued, waggling his hand between himself and Calista. “I was just about to track Calista down yesterday afternoon when she showed up in my office.”
Terrance’s eyebrow rose at that, and he turned an expectant eye on the woman, who nodded.
“Shannon was getting a little antsy about the fact that we hadn’t yet received a signed contract from Avalon,” she explained, “so when we returned from our demo for the El Dorado Space Force, I ran Daniel down and asked him if he had any ideas about what the holdup was.”
Daniel reached for a breadstick, inhaled deeply, then let it out in an explosive sigh. “Around the same time, a buddy of mine contacted me and said his wife—who works for TransOrbital—was called in the other night for an unscheduled planning meeting.” He pointed one end of the breadstick at Terrance. “Said ordinarily he stays out of his wife’s business, and she stays out of his, but that she returned home awfully disturbed about something.”
Terrance nodded for Daniel to continue.
“She said the project manager had gloated about some big coup, some designs they’d managed to get their hands on that would absolutely sink Enfield.” He bit off one end of the breadstick viciously, chewed for a moment, then went on. “When she entered the room for the meeting, she saw the file that the project manager had up on his screen before he had a chance to blank the holo.”
He glanced meaningfully between his two companions. “It had an Enfield watermark on it.”
Terrance inhaled sharply, and Daniel held up a hand to forestall him. “It’s not Icarus.”
Terrance blew out the breath he’d just held.
Daniel nodded. “We believe that TransOrbital most likely did present a variant of Galatea to Avalon with a bid that has undercut ours.”
“Figures,” Terrance muttered.
“At any rate, we didn’t know for sure what we’d find when we got here,” Ciu summated, “but the wife let us know that TransOrbital was bringing Avalon here for lunch after their presentation. From there, it was a simple matter to query the restaurant’s NSAI and ask about a reservation.”
Well, damn.
Galatea might be a lot less revolutionary than Icarus, but it was still going to mean the loss of a substantial revenue stream for Enfield Aerospace.
“And the leak that we obviously now have?” Terrance asked.
“I looked at security logs for the past several weeks, cross-referencing the tokens that were used against on-site employees. There were a dozen separate occasions when access was granted using a token from someone who was not there.”
“Anything else our thief could possibly have obtained during those times we were hacked?” Terrance asked.
“Aside from Galatea, the only other files accessed each time were shuttle logs from our fleet department.” Daniel sounded perplexed.
“I have no idea what possible use those might be to someone. We’re going under the assumption the person who did this thought the files might contain something else.”
Terrance grunted. “Agreed, that sounds like pretty meaningless intel to grab. Keep at it, please. Let’s see if our spy tries again. In the meantime, do what you can to prove that TransOrbital has stolen our IP.”
Daniel’s eyes hardened. “It would be my pleasure.”
UNEXPECTED CARGO
STELLAR DATE: 07.04.3189 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Scar Top Trai
lhead, Muzhavi Ridge
REGION: El Dorado, Alpha Centauri System
“The El Dorado Center for the Preservation of Wildlife prides itself on conserving more than six thousand kilometers of mapped hiking trails. Be sure to download the latest weather report, as well as our trail guide app. And, as always, be sure to set your transponder to broadcast your location, so the El Dorado Park Ranger AI can locate you in case of emergency. Thank you for hiking with us!”
“You want to do what, again?”
Jason and Ben had been hiking for about forty minutes before the truth had come out. For some crazy reason, the analyst was determined to make it to the top of Muzhavi Ridge just so he could send a damn signal.
As Jason asked Ben to clarify, he watched his brother-in-law shift uncomfortably and glance around, as if he didn’t want their conversation to be overheard.
“Can we just keep walking while we talk?” Ben pleaded.
“Hiking, not walking,” Jason corrected absently, but he turned and continued along the trail. He shook his head. Super-secret spy shit for the win.
“Yeah, well, hiking, then. Look, I’m just saying that I need to leave the trail up at the top for a few minutes so I can send a signal.” Ben’s voice was low, and he shot Jason a hooded glance before returning his gaze to the trail.
“You could have sent a signal anywhere on El Dorado. Hell, you could've done it from the comfort of your office on the ring.” Jason eyed him speculatively as he swept aside a low-hanging branch someone had forgotten to trim, and motioned him past. “You must have one heck of a reason for needing to send this signal from such a remote location.”
They continued hiking in silence as Jason waited for Ben to respond.
The trail he had chosen crisscrossed the mountainside, its wide and well-groomed surface sloping gradually upward. It was more like a graveled sidewalk than a true hiking trail, but it had been the right choice for Ben’s first excursion.
A few kilometers to the south, the ridge’s terrain gave way to steep conglomerate sandstone walls that soared a thousand meters into the El Dorado sky. Once they reached the overlook at the top, a cross trail would lead them along the ridge to the cliff-face, where they could rappel back down.
If Ben made it that far—it hadn’t taken long for the man to show signs of fatigue.
Jason had carefully monitored Ben’s progress, intent on making sure his sedentary brother-in-law didn’t overextend himself. He had been surprised when Ben turned down his first offer to cut the hike short, but now he knew why.
Jason had to give the guy props for his determination, as he watched his brother-in-law dig into his reserves and tackle the next switchback with a jaw-clenched resolve.
Ben’s gaze remained lowered, his eyes focused on the path in front of his feet. Jason waited patiently, allowing a silence to settle between the two that was filled with nothing but the crunch of boots on gravel, native bird calls, and the occasional gust of wind.
Finally, Ben nodded, expelling his breath in an explosive sigh.
“Look, Jason. It’s classified. All I can say is that it has to be sent from here because the signal is low-powered and needs to remain untraceable. I’m only telling you this much because Lysander said there’s more to you than meets the eye, and that I can count on you for help, if I need it.”
Ben paused, then turned to face Jason.
“I need it.”
He opened his mouth to speak further, but stopped abruptly as a pair of women appeared on the trail ahead of them, trudging downward. The two men stepped back to let them pass.
One of the women held the leash of a large dog, its tongue lolling out in a sloppy grin. As they passed, both groups exchanged nods and helloes.
With the trail once again clear, the men resumed their climb.
“Jason,” Ben began again, “I can't go into any detail, but I can tell you that it's a matter of planetary security.” The analyst laughed once, without humor. “As you've probably already guessed, I'm not doing this for my health.”
Jason's mouth quirked at that. No, I suppose not. He let the silence extend again, in an unspoken invitation for his brother-in-law to continue.
“Look...” Ben's eyes darted around, and his voice lowered as he continued. “I have reason to believe the organization has been compromised. I don't know who can be trusted and who can't.”
Jason shot him a sharp glance. “Go on.”
Ben paused, shifted his pack, and waved away an insect that had landed on his sleeve. He looked at Jason, eyes laden with concern, before resuming his trek.
The trail's incline grew steeper along this stretch, and Jason noticed that the man was beginning to walk with a slight limp. They were going to have to stop soon.
“You're right that I’m not the ideal candidate for this task,” Ben admitted as he continued. “Ordinarily, I'd assign this to one of our agents. Someone a lot better equipped than I am to pull this off.” Ben looked over at Jason. “Someone a lot like you, actually.”
Jason met his brother-in-law’s eyes, his gaze somber. “It's that important?”
“Yes,” the man replied without further elaboration.
After a moment, Jason nodded.
“Those are pretty compelling arguments. And the Old Man is practically my second dad; I’d trust him with my life.”
He shifted his gaze, surveying their surroundings before returning his attention to Ben. “With his endorsement on top of everything else you've told me.... All right. I'm in.”
The relief on Ben’s face was clear. “I appreciate it, Jason. I wouldn’t involve you if there were any other way.” The analyst frowned, and his eyes narrowed. “One more thing.”
Jason felt the weight of Ben’s gaze as the man leveled him a stern look.
“It’s imperative that you keep this to yourself. The people involved in this are incredibly dangerous and won’t hesitate to kill you if they find out you’re involved.”
At those words, Jason felt his heart rate increase, and could sense himself falling into his altered state. He took deep, calming breaths, deliberately constraining it.
Despite his efforts, his mind raced, examining the situation from all angles and considering the implications. Given that the signal was low-powered, he assumed that Ben would need direct line of sight to send it. If the target was the bowl on the back side of the ridge, that meant they’d have to go off-trail to send it.
It wouldn’t be an issue for Jason, but Ben was another matter. Going off-trail would mean traversing steep inclines with loose scree and a terrain covered in scrub, boulders and fallen trees. It would be treacherous for an unskilled hiker like Ben.
Jason accessed his park trail app and checked the hikers’ frequency for any transponders in the vicinity. All hikers used them; they would send a hiker’s ident and location to any search-and-rescue organization that pinged them. S&R used them during disasters to ensure that all souls were rescued.
Finding only a few hikers down at the base of the mountain, Jason toggled his off, then told Ben to do the same.
“It's a risk, but an acceptable one,” he told Ben. “Most likely, no one will notice that two people just went off the grid, and with those off, we should be fairly hard to trace. Unless someone’s actively scanning for heat signatures and Link transmissions?”
Jason speared Ben with a questioning glance, and the man shook his head. He took that to mean that whoever was on the other side of that ridge wouldn’t be running an active scan unless they had a reason to.
Jason didn’t intend to provide that.
A few meters away lay a clearing that visitors used as a resting spot. He gestured to it and they walked over. Ben took a seat on a fallen log, while Jason leaned against a boulder that was still warm from the afternoon sun.
“Okay, first off, I can’t let you cross the divide on your own.”
“That’s not your call, Jason.”
He indicated the trail they’d just left. “That trail? Th
at was the most groomed trail on this mountain. I chose it specifically because you’d never hiked before. How do your feet feel?” He nodded down at the hiking shoes Ben had put on for the first time that morning.
He pressed on. “I’ve broken in my share of boots before; I’ll bet they’re more than a little sore. You’ll have a few blisters come morning…but that’s not really the issue here.” Jason turned and pointed away from the trail. “That’s your issue.”
The terrain rose—not steeply, but still, it rose. And it was strewn with boulders, loose gravel, scrub and fallen logs. Jason knew there was no way he could, in good conscience, let Ben traverse it on his own.
He was sure that Ben had thought the trail would lead him to the divide—and it did, when viewed on a macro scale. From a boots-on-the-ground viewpoint, though, they still had some distance to go, and most of that was up an incline.
“The divide you need to get to, in order to send that signal? It’s another three hundred meters in that direction. And I’m sure you know it’s on private land. The whole place is listed on the Muzhavi Ridge net as off-limits. No trespassing.” Jason gave Ben a look. “Which, I presume, is exactly where you want to be?”
Ben nodded.
“Okay.” Jason blew out a breath, thinking. “So you tell me what signal you want to send, and I’ll climb up there and send it for you.”
He hadn’t even finished the sentence before Ben began shaking his head.
“Can’t do it.”
“Why not?”
Ben hesitated.
“We’re alone up here on the mountain,” Jason assured him. “No one nearby to hear us, and no one to see that you weren’t the one to send the signal.”
“It’s not that easy, Jason.” Ben sighed, and Jason could see that he’d come to a decision.
The analyst pointed in the direction of the divide. “On the other side of this mountain is a warehouse filled with illegal arms, owned by the Norden Cartel. The signal is an activation code that will initiate a countdown, which will set off a kinetic-EMP device. It'll decimate that warehouse.” Ben paused before letting the other shoe drop. “The activation code that will set the whole thing in motion is keyed to my auth token. So you see, Jason,” Ben sent his brother-in-law a quick grimace, “it’s not that I don’t want you to send that signal for me. You just can’t.”
