A Show of Force (21 page)

“Yes, I saw the prison camera footage,” Nathan commented. “I’m not sure how I feel about Kellen’s tactics.”

“I assure you, Captain, he was well aware of what he was doing. He had already been on Pylius for seventeen days.”

“Some of those prisoners might have been incarcerated for good reason,” Nathan said.

“According to Lieutenant Kellen, the prison contained only those who stood against the Jung occupation of Pylius. Those men had committed no crimes against their own people. Furthermore, the liberation of those men served as inspiration to the rest of the population. A ‘call to arms’ I believe you call it?”

“Another example of Ghatazhak ingenuity, then,” Nathan observed.

“Correct,” Commander Telles replied. “It is what the Ghatazhak are trained to do.”

“Well, I’m relieved to know that the lieutenant at least took the reason for their incarceration into consideration.”

Commander Telles looked confused. “Why would he not?”

Nathan smiled. “Then you’re fine with our turning control of Pylius over to their interim government as soon as practical.”

“Indeed I am, Captain. I could use the extra manpower. May I inquire as to how soon we will be able to depart for Porto Santo?”

Nathan looked at the status display on the main view screen on the forward bulkhead. “Looks like we’ve already jumped to Sol, Commander. So your shuttles can depart as soon as you’re ready.”

“Thank you, Captain. Until our next adventure, then.”

“Until then.”

* * *

“You spend a lot of time staring out windows these days, sire,” Major Bellen said as he entered Prince Casimir’s study.

“Everything that matters is out there,” Casimir said. “Out there, up there, over there…” He paused, turning back and looking around his study. “There was a time when everything that mattered to me was contained within these walls, and on the lands just outside that window.” He turned to look out the window again. “So long ago.”

“I have received disturbing news from one of my sources within the Takaran communications division,” Major Bellen said.

Casimir turned back to the major.

“A great deal of encrypted communications have been taking place among the various noble houses of Takara.”

“Let me guess,” Casimir said. “Dahra, Tammer, Markly…”

“And others,” the major added. “Many others, I’m afraid. Most of the calls seem to originate from Dahra and Markly, going out to perhaps twenty other houses so far.”

“Assessment?”

“I believe that Lords Dahra and Markly are attempting to contact as many houses as they feel comfortable. To what end, I cannot state, but my instinct tells me that it would be prudent to raise the level of security on House Ta’Akar.”

“Perhaps you are correct,” Casimir agreed. “Although I doubt it is anything more than pompous old men complaining to their fellow nobles about how I spoke to them today.” Casimir thought for a moment. “Still, maintain discretion as much as possible. I do not wish them to know that I have taken such precautions. It might raise alarm among the people. Also, such posturing might send the wrong message to Dahra and his cohorts on the council. These are volatile times, my friend. We must take care not to light a fire that we are not prepared to extinguish.”

“I shall be as discrete as possible, sire.” Major Bellen stood there for a moment.

“There was something else, Major?” Casimir asked, noticing that his security chief had not departed.

“Forgive me, my lord, I do not wish to cast dispersions on the nobles…”

Casimir chuckled at the thought.

“…However, should Dahra and several others, as few as a half dozen houses, for example… should they join forces against us, we may not have the forces necessary needed to repel such an attack. I know such a thing is unthinkable. However, I feel I would be remiss if I did not mention…”

“Quite right, Major. Quite right.” Casimir thought for a moment. “Major, your source at the Takaran communications division,” Casimir began, “can he get a message out, discretely?”

“For what I pay him, I would expect so.”

Casimir went to his desk and wrote on a small piece of paper, then handed it to the major. “Have this message sent, using my personal encryption key.”

The major looked at the note, his eyebrow raising. “And he will have the ability to decrypt the message?”

“If he is half as smart as I need him to be… yes.”

* * *

“It’s been a week already,” Naralena complained, in English, as they made their way down the empty corridor of the hotel. “How long is it going to take?”

“We’ll give it up to ten days,” Jessica said as they stopped at the door to their room. She pulled out the key card and passed it over the door control, unlocking the door. “If no one responds by then, we’ll have to start doing our own recon,” she said as she pushed the door open and entered the room.

“That won’t be necessary,” a voice said, in perfect Jung, from within the dimly lit hotel room.

Jessica reacted exactly as one might expect from a common Koharan girl working the streets, stopping dead in her tracks. “What the…? Who the fuck are you, and what are you doing in our hotel room?” she spouted, in common Cetian vernacular, and with the appropriate level of surprise, anger, and fear.

“Exactly the right response,” the man replied.

Jessica switched to Jung. “I asked you a question, asshole!”

“Let’s just call hotel security,” Naralena urged Jessica, also using the Cetian language so as to stay in character.

“Good idea,” Jessica replied in Koharan. She switched back to Jung to warn the man sitting in their room. “We’re calling security, mister, so if you know what’s good for you, you’ll be long gone before we get back!”

“I highly doubt this hotel has anything remotely resembling security,” the man said, this time in perfect English.

“What did you say?” Jessica asked, still speaking Jung. She had understood the man perfectly, but did not want to step into a trap.

“Neither your Jung nor your Koharan is that of a native speaker,” the man said. “Your friend’s is much better.”

“What?” Jessica repeated, still pretending not to understand the man.

“You can drop the pretense,” the man told her, continuing to speak in English. “I heard you speaking English as you were walking down the corridor.” He held up a small transceiver, which Jessica assumed was receiving audio from devices the man had planted in the corridor. “Please, close the door, so that we may speak in private.”

Jessica eyed the man suspiciously. His position in the corner of the room kept the light coming through the windows from illuminating his face, leaving it in shadows. He also had both windows wide open to facilitate his escape should it become necessary. Although she could not tell, she expected that he had a weapon of some sort trained on them as well. After all, she certainly would.

“Please, you contacted me, remember?” He picked up the net pad on his lap and tossed it onto the floor in front of Jessica, screen side up. The screen lit up, revealing it to be Jessica’s net pad.

Jessica moved further inside the room, stepping to the side to let Naralena in. As she passed, Jessica nudged Naralena to the left, reminding her to go to the opposite side of the room, just as she had been taught in such situation. Jessica swung the door closed, and moved to the right side of the room. The entire time, she kept her eyes on the man sitting in the far corner. “How did you find us?” she asked, now speaking English.

“Cetian network technology is far different than Earth’s,” the man began. “Every device is tracked. Location, usage, search history, messages… it is all stored in massive databases that can be accessed only by court order. Or so it was before the Jung. Jung officials may access the information at will.”

Jessica’s heart sank. Her first instinct was to try and overpower the man. She was quick, and she might even be quick enough to disarm him before he managed to get a shot off. Unfortunately, she had too little information to act. How old was he? What kind of shape was he in? Was he in fact armed, and if so, with what?

“So, are you taking us in?” Jessica asked, deciding to play along for now.

“Which academy did you attend?” the man asked.

Jessica’s eyes squinted as she contemplated her response. “San Francisco,” she replied.

“Nice try,” the man replied, his tone hinting that he was entertained by her attempt to trick him. “There is no EDF academy in San Francisco.”

“Yeah, I guess that would make sense, considering the city was pretty much abandoned after the big one back in thirty-four twelve.”

“Another nice try. There was no ‘big one’ in thirty-four twelve. The last big earthquake in San Francisco was over seven hundred years ago. The city was doing quite well last time I was there.”

“As what, a Jung spy?”

“Actually, I was born and raised not far from there,” the man replied. “Now, which academy did you say you attended?”

“I didn’t.”

“Didn’t what? Attend an EDF academy?”

“I didn’t tell you which one,” Jessica corrected. “North American, in Florida.”

“Ah, then you must have had Colonel Lundsgrad as your spec-ops director.”

“I did. But it’s ‘Lundsgrat’, with a ‘t’, not a ‘d’.”

“Of course,” the old man replied. “It has been a while since I have used my English skills. So, tell me, how did you do on the Markson exams?”

“Sixty-eight,” Jessica replied. “Not my best subject.”

“On the contrary, it would appear that it is one of your better subjects. A perfect score is considered to be anything between sixty-five and seventy.”

“Jesus,” Jessica exclaimed, her body relaxing a bit. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I don’t mean to be rude, my dear, but your craft is a bit sloppy. Speaking an outlawed language in a public corridor? You shouldn’t even be speaking it while on the planet.”

“And yet, you are,” Jessica replied as she moved toward the light switch. “Do you mind?”

“Be my guest.”

Jessica turned on the lights, getting a look at the man’s face. His voice had belied his years. He was probably in his mid-sixties, but in good shape. He also had a trustworthy look about him, ideal for a deep-cover agent.

“You’re older than I expected,” Jessica told him. “No disrespect intended.”

“I have been here a long time.”

“How long?”

“Nearly forty years.”

Jessica picked her net pad up from the floor and tossed it onto the bed. “Koharan years?”

“Earth years.”

“Impossible,” Jessica replied. “Our first FTL ships only left Earth twenty-five years ago.”

“Or so you were all told,” the man replied.

Jessica’s eyes widened. “Aardvark?”

“Precisely.”

“What is ‘Aardvark’?” Naralena wondered as she sat down on the opposite bed.

“It was the name of an old spec-ops operation,” Jessica explained. “We heard rumors about it back at the academy, but no one ever knew what it was. Most of us thought it was just a myth, something made up by senior classmates to fool the new guys.” She turned back to the man. “So, you’re saying that we had FTL ships sixty years ago? Thirty-five years
before
the first Scout ships left Earth?”

“I don’t know that I’d call them ‘ships’,” the man said. “More like delivery systems. Small, very fast, automated. Just enough to deliver a single passenger to another world.”

Jessica shook her head. “This doesn’t add up. Forty years ago… the EDF was only what, one or two years old?”

“Three, actually,” the man corrected. “It will all make sense to you, after I explain. For now, however, it would be best if we left this place. If I could find you so easily, so could the Jung.”

“Right,” Jessica agreed, grabbing her net pad.

“Leave it,” the man instructed, “as well as any belongings you have accumulated. If your net pad is traced, it will lead them to this room. If your belongings are still here, then they will likely watch for your return… hopefully for some time.”

“What about the bill?” Naralena asked. “We’re only paid up for another week.”

“Tell the man at the front desk that you are going to be staying for a month, until your new identity cards are issued. Ask for the monthly rate, so that he does not become suspicious.” The man rose from his chair and moved toward the door. On his way, he handed Jessica a business card. “I trust you can find your way to my office?” He continued to the door, then stopped and turned back toward them. “The sooner the better.”

Jessica watched as the old man exited, closing the door behind him. She looked down at the card he had given her.

Naralena was looking at Jessica. “What does it say?”

“Ellyus Barton, Realtor,” she replied. “His office is on Parchene Boulevard.”

“Do you think he is really EDF?”

“He made it through the authentication chain.”

“Then you trust him?”

“Hell no,” Jessica replied. “But he’s got the skills, that much I’m sure of. He’s also the only contact we’ve had since we got here. I say we run with it… cautiously.”

* * *

Commander Erbe entered Captain Navarro’s office, coming to attention before his commanding officer. “Commander Erbe, reporting as ordered.”

Captain Navarro looked up from his data pad. “Are you Ghatazhak ever
not
dressed for battle?” he wondered.

“Only when we sleep, shit, and shower… sir.”

Captain Navarro smiled. “It has been awhile, Arturo,” he said, standing to greet his old friend.

“Indeed it has, Suvan,” Commander Erbe replied, shaking the captain’s hand. “I trust you are well?”

“Quite.”

“I also trust it was you who arranged the transfer of myself, and my platoon?”

“That is correct.”

“Was your previous platoon not serving you well?” the commander wondered as he took his seat.

“They served me well,” Captain Navarro replied. “I simply needed someone that I was quite sure I could trust.”

“Ghatazhak loyalty is programmed into our very souls, to both the chain of command as well as to the individual at the top of that chain.”

“While that may be true, it has always been suspected that, given proper influences and reasons, a Ghatazhak may be steered ‘away’ from their programming.”

“We are taught to think for ourselves,” the commander admitted, “but there are limits to our self-determination. Limits that are extremely difficult to ignore.”

“Yet, they
can
be ignored,” Captain Suvan reminded.

Commander Erbe nodded reluctant agreement. “It is true that the more often a Ghatazhak’s programming has been changed, the less effective that programming becomes.”