by Allen Stroud
What in space is going on?
He got up, went to the crew cabin door, which slid open. ‘All done,’ he said to Gebrial. She was lying on the bed facing away from him, wrapped in a towel with a dataslate in her hands. Her clothes lay in a pile on the floor. She’d plainly used the ‘fresher’ while waiting. Pietro smiled. Naked shoulders and smooth young skin; not a subtle ploy, but then again not the most obvious one either. He pushed a button and a cushioned panel slid forwards, making a comfortable seat. ‘We need to talk.’
Gebrial looked around and nodded. She put the slate down and sat up, the towel tucked in. ‘I guess we do.’
Pietro tapped the wall. ‘The stations’ monitoring systems don’t usually listen in. They’d struggle with trying to record conversations in the docking bay anyway. Still, I’ve seen hull limpets used before now, so the Gallant is equipped with a dampener skin. No one will hear us.’
Gebrial frowned. ‘People want to snoop that much?’
‘Some do, when there’s enough credits on the line, traders can be ruthless, but I doubt too many care about us.’
‘Is that why you didn’t want to talk on the station?’
‘Yes, exactly,’ Pietro said. ‘Anyone might have picked up the conversation.’
Gebrial nodded. ‘But you record everything here don’t you?’
Pietro shrugged. ‘I have to, part of the job.’
‘In the police?’
He stared at her. ‘This conversation isn’t going the right way. I need information from you, not the other way around.’
Gebrial looked nervous. ‘I told you everything I could.’
‘No you didn’t,’ Pietro said. ‘I’ve plenty more to ask.’
‘Okay then.’
Pietro took a deep breath. ‘To start, where are you from?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘Yes,’ Pietro said and tapped the wall again. ‘The door is right there.’
Gebrial sighed. ‘I grew up on Codorain II, I ran away two years ago.’
‘When you got the eyes and hair?’
‘Yes.’
‘So where did you run to?’
‘Here,’ Gebrial said. ‘I saved up for a seat on a passenger liner. I doubt my family misses me.’
‘And stayed at the station?’
‘Yes,’ Gebrial sighed again. ‘The money ran out and things got tough, I ended up in the storage tunnels. Then I met Arrik.’
Pietro stood and picked up the discarded dataslate.
‘Hey, I was reading that!’
‘You can have it back in a minute.’
He closed the novel Gebrial had been reading and quickly keyed in a request to the Solati Reach’s Station archive. Within seconds, the registered missing person lists from Codorain appeared. Gebrial Kassini was the fourth name on the page. Pietro frowned and dropped the slate back on the bed. ‘Either you’re telling the truth or you’re well schooled,’ he said. ‘Why’d you end up with Arrik?’
Gebrial made a face. ‘I needed food and somewhere to sleep, a decent trade,’ she mumbled.
‘I see,’ Pietro said, ‘and you thought I’d want the same?’
She stared at him with wide purple eyes. ‘Don’t you?’
Pietro scowled. ‘What did you think you’d get from me?’
‘I don’t know, passage to the planet or somewhere? Anything’s better than those tunnels.’
You’re probably right, Pietro thought. ‘Tell me about Arrik, What did he do?’
‘Ran trades between Solati and Darahk mostly, he’d stop for a while though and disappear too, said he didn’t like the space time anymore.’
‘And when he was here, you ran errands for him?’
‘Amongst other things.’
‘So what were you supposed to do this time?’ Pietro asked.
‘I was to meet a man in a long coat at the port security entrance,’ Gebrial explained. ‘I spotted you there, but you walked off into the bazaar so I followed and spoke to you.’
‘He just told you to pick up the items from me,’ Pietro pressed. ‘What else?’
‘That was it,’ Gebrial replied.
Pietro sighed. Nothing useful so far. ‘Where was he from?’
Gebrial bit her lip. ‘He didn’t say much on that, but used to talk of home as if it were special.’
‘Did he say where it was?’
Gebrial frowned and her eyes grew distant. ‘I think I remember him saying Ashor, Eshor? Something like that.’
Pietro chewed the inside of his lip. The name didn‘t mean anything to him, but a detailed search of the planetary database might find some possible locations. He thought back to when he’d met Arrik. The man had fingered him instantly as an imposter. ‘Did he know Kel personally?’
‘I’m not sure, I guess,’ Gebrial said. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t want to go back. Can I come with you?’
Pietro shook his head and watched her face fall. ‘No, trust me, you don’t want to be where I’m going.’
‘Arrik said he’d protect me and take me somewhere safe.’
‘I think he lied,’ Pietro said. ‘Any pilot who let you aboard would have to be very careful. You’re on a missing persons list in Imperial systems and that could mean arrest and trial for anyone harbouring you.’
Gebrial stared at her hands. ‘I don’t want to go back,’ she repeated.
Pietro took pity on her. ‘Get dressed and come through to the cockpit, we’ll sort out our next step from there.’
* * *
The Adder emerged from hyperspace in the Miola system with a lurch. Heldaban Kel spat a curse in the direction of the viewscreen. The ship was functional at best, not carefully tuned like his own, stranded in Reorte. He pulled up the weapon inventory. A class one gimballed pulse laser and three missiles, not much to play with if—
The proximity alarm went off, signalling the worst case scenario. He keyed up the rear viewscreen and saw his fears confirmed. The Asp, boiling out of the closing hyperspace window, the shields crackling and hull scarred as it jammed through a portal designed for the smaller Adder.
Immediately, Kel cut the engine and banked around. The Asp came into view near the pulse laser’s crosshairs and he activated the targeting system, barely waiting for the ping before launching a missile straight into the ship’s face. He powered up the engines and the Adder lurched forwards, right at the larger predator.
At the last moment the Asp cut left and away, the missile detonated metres from the hull. Kel’s craft charged through the guttering explosion and he raked the enemy ship with laser fire, trying to press home the advantage.
The Asp’s depleted shields sparked and black marks appeared on the metal as pulse blasts cut into the plating. The pilot pulled a sharp diving turn. Kel tried to follow, but the Adder wasn’t manoeuvrable enough and the Asp disappeared from view.
Only a matter of time now.
Desperately, Kel turned up the engines, aiming the ship for further in-system, hoping he could outdistance the enemy craft, but an Asp had a bigger power plant and greater acceleration. Miola security might help if he got close enough to the space station, it would be unlikely ...
Scratch that, impossible.
The juddering impact of beam lasers on the Adder’s shields confirmed his calculations. Desperately, Kel rocked the controls, trying to evade, but the ship was no match for the military precision of his pursuer. He guessed who was out there. A man trained who’d died many times and been trained over and over again. A man called—
Another blast hit, filling the cockpit with smoke. Kel keyed up the escape capsule, pressed the activation switch and sat back in his chair, closing his eyes.
Nothing happened.
He pressed the button again and again, hard.
Then the shooting stopped.
Kel frowned and looked around. Nothing. He pulled up the other camera displays and the scanner, but the Asp had vanished.
He tried the controls, they were unresponsive. Dead in Space. H
e checked the comms, also gone.
Stranded, a much better outcome for his enemy; no verified kill and no escape capsule distress call to worry about.
Instead, I get to suffocate.
Great.
Chapter 9: The Plan
‘We found six more individuals in the hide Mister Devander. They’d like a conversation with you.’
I just bet they would, Pietro thought as he listened to the security officer on the viewscreen. ‘What are you holding them on?’ he asked.
‘Trespass and damage of state property at the moment,’ the officer said, ‘but it’s thin, we’d prefer if you have something ...’ he left the words hanging.
Pietro sighed. I wish I could question them, but anything on the books would be against orders. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve everything I need. They’re all yours.’
‘I see,’ the man said. ‘Well, I best get back.’
‘Of course, thanks for the call.’
The connection ended just as the crew cabin door opened and Gebrial came through to join him in the cockpit. ‘So, what are you going to do with me?’ she asked.
‘Make use of your pretty purple eyes to start with,’ Pietro said and tapped the metal chits they’d found. ‘We need to get these back in the box.’
Gebrial shrugged. ‘Shouldn’t be too hard, walk down there and put them back.’
‘Maybe,’ Pietro said. 'But with two of us, it'll be easier to see if we're followed.'
The comms light winked. Pietro looked at Gebrial, touched his finger to his lips and activated the transmission, audio only.
‘Mister Devander?’
‘Yes?’
‘This is Alioth procurement minister, Kyle Merion. I’m talking to you via Hyperspace receiver and was given this location by your superiors owing to my connection to Atticus Nathanial Finch.’
Pietro chewed his lip. Hyperspace wave transmissions were expensive, rare and chancy. The fact Merion was talking to him spoke volumes as to Finch’s importance.
‘How can I help Mister Merion?’
‘I understand you are investigating Mister Finch and Federal authorities confiscated his possessions,’ Merion said. ‘There should be a small metal chit, which he was supposed to deliver to me. We must recover the item immediately.’
Pietro’s eyes went to the chit on the dashboard. Interesting. ‘Mister Merion, I’m in the process of concluding the investigation and will return all property to my superiors. They can make sure the item reaches you promptly from there.’
‘Thank you Mister Devander.’ The man’s voice remained tense. ‘My Government are very appreciative of anyone who assists us with this.’
Pietro knew a potential bribe when he heard one. ‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ he said and closed the connection as he noticed another message coming in. He keyed that up.
‘Yes?’
‘Station control here, we have the transit records you requested?’
‘Great, send them through.’
Names and dates flashed up on the viewscreen. Pietro studied them carefully, until he found the one he was looking for. He coughed in surprise.
‘What?’ Gebrial asked.
‘Your friend Arrik, or should I say Arrik Kel.’
‘He never told me his last name.’
‘Or mentioned any family?’ Pietro laughed bitterly. Arrik Kel and Heldaban Kel; no wonder he knew I wasn’t the man he was supposed to meet!
* * *
‘New comms request.’
Bertrum Kowl with a faint whirr of servos, sat up and smoothed his hair. ‘Accept,’ he replied authoritatively.
Martha Godwina, the Imperial ambassador, appeared, her expression schooled with disdain. ‘Prefect, I bring news.’
Bertrum sighed. News delivered by the Empire was not habitually good. Nevertheless, any development on the missing trade factor was better than nothing.
‘What have you found?’ he asked.
‘Your employee is dead, murdered by a contract killer. The assassin was employed by an unknown party.’
Bertrum frowned. Why would someone hire an assassin to kill a trade delegate? Finch had been tasked with establishing a corn supply between Alioth, Gateway and Diso. ‘I find this hard to accept,’ he said.
‘Do you?’ Godwina’s tone was icy. ‘Well I can assure you the information is confirmed, killed whilst playing cards. There is more, however.’
‘Go on.’
‘The Federation took an interest in the matter and began an investigation,’ she said. ‘We warned them off, very messy all round.’
‘Less messy thanks to your efforts,’ Bertrum said. Much as Godwina was odious, he needed to sound grateful.
‘Still, not something the Imperial Senate will be happy with,’ she said. ‘Why you elected to broker a deal so far from Lave baffles me. The Good Doctor remains deluded over your glorious past?’
Bertrum bit off an angry reply and met the comment with a stony stare.
Godwina shrugged at his silence. ‘Well, whatever the reasons, Achenar needs the import quota. I trust there will be no difficulty in fulfilling it?’
‘You’ll get your grain, Ambassador.’
‘With an appropriate discount, considering the trouble,’ she said smugly.
Bertrum frowned. ‘I already stipulated the reward related to this.’
Godwina waved her hand dismissively. ‘A paltry offer. The Empire will not stomach such an insult for the use of our resources, plus the matter remains delicate. One word in the right circles and the Federal investigation resumes.’ She leaned forward towards the screen. ‘And you don’t want that now, do you?’
Bertrum sighed again and cut off the transmission.
* * *
It took a few minutes to walk back to the TBW Investments kiosk. The Solati Reach transit platform had quietened in the meantime and Pietro looked around as they passed. The identity desks were sparsely manned now and he was waved through as a berthed traveller. The stationmaster wouldn’t be interested in the Gallant or its commander unless they overstayed the twenty hour gratuity given to all traders.
The bazaar was much quieter too. Many of the traders had closed. Pietro guessed it was late on local time. Some stations still operated under local custom hours, particularly where the planetary colony remained on one part of the world. This maintained synchronicity. On more developed worlds, full day and night business hours were adopted, with different rental rates based on transit activity. Any berthed passengers and commanders could still access the station’s internal merchant catalogue at any time from their ships, but some preferred the personal touch for exotic goods.
They reached the corridor and found the kiosk empty with the shutters closed. Weird, Pietro thought. TBW Investments were a huge galactic corporation and highly unlikely to remain tied to local opening times. He walked right up to the desk with Gebrial a pace behind him, but the shutter remained in place.
‘Where do you think they went?’ Gebrial asked.
‘Same question to you,’ Pietro replied. ‘The station always this quiet at this ...’ The words died in his mouth as he glanced up at the ceiling, spotting the security cameras.
They’d been smashed.
‘We need to leave,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Now.’
They turned, started back down the corridor and got about half-way before a figure appeared at the end. Pietro’s hands went straight into his pocket, feeling the reassuring stock of the meson carbine. ‘Whoever you are, you need to let us go,’ he said.
The figure didn’t reply, but instead, the wall panel to the left slid away opening up the room they’d been in before.
‘Leave?’ said a voice from within, loaded with humour. ‘When we’ve taken all this time and trouble to wait for you Mister Devander?’
Pietro glanced in the direction of the opening and then back to the figure at the end of the corridor. For a moment, he considered attempting to get past the guard, but they wouldn’t gain much. He thought about re-ac
tivating the molar transmitter in his back tooth, but it’d go on his record and Altair would think he was disobeying orders. Let’s see how this plays out.
He turned around and walked though the panel doorway. Inside, two men and a woman, all armed stood near the walls and another man sat on one of the couches. He smiled at Pietro.
‘Ah good, I hoped you’d go for the civilised option.’ His eyes strayed to Gebrial who stood to Pietro’s left. ‘And you’ve brought a friend? Well, we can talk about her later.’ He gestured to the empty couch. Pietro acquiesced and sat down, Gebrial stood behind him.
‘This doesn’t need to get messy, Agent Devander,’ the man added.
Pietro shrugged. ‘Hard to chat with someone whose name you don’t know.’
‘Of course, I am Proctor Cuthrick Delaney.’
A Proctor? Pietro knew the Proctorate. They were Imperial internal police. ‘Little far outside your jurisdiction here, aren’t you?’
‘If you mean my official duties,’ Delaney said. ‘I suppose you could read it that way. Solati is a Federation system. An Imperial Proctor has no place enforcing laws here.’
‘That’s exactly how I see it,’ Pietro said. ‘I’m a Federal citizen in a Federal space station, you’ve no right to detain me and the minute we leave this room, you’ll be arrested.’ This wasn’t going well. He clenched his jaw, activating the transmitter.
Delaney nodded. ‘Yes indeed, that would be true in normal circumstances, but these aren’t normal,’ he stood up and walked over to the metallic walls, then turned around to stare at Gebrial. ‘To start, you’re harbouring an Imperial fugitive.’
Gebrial looked astonished. ‘Me?’ she said.
‘No one else,’ Delaney said. ‘You deny you ran away from Imperial space?’
‘No I—’
‘Then you failed to obtain proper emigration papers and remain the property of your family and the Empire,’ Delaney explained coldly.
‘That’s not why you’re here though,’ Pietro said.
Delaney smiled. ‘No indeed. I require the merchant chits from you Agent Devander. I know you have them.’
Pietro shrugged. ‘So far, I don’t get why I should hand them over.’
Delaney’s smile disappeared. ‘Let’s put this in a way you can understand. You’re familiar with Earth’s proverbs and early scientists? There was one called Darwin, who first explained the idea of natural selection. The thing you learn eventually in this game is that there’s always a bigger fish, a tougher dog or a stronger Verrix. I think you’re too caught up in your own invincibility Agent Devander and right now, you’re not very invincible at all.’
