Archives of the Frontier Universe: An Assassin's Assignment (13 page)

“A name, please!” demanded Rose, as the banging at the door went on.

The Eiltheen sort of smiled. “Hiellta . . . Hiellta Silatine! Councilor of our people. Representative of Florenial.”  

Rose heart seized almost painfully and then pumped madly. She stared at the man, almost not believing it, yet the story fit. She shook her head, nearly overwhelmed. “Incredible!” She looked back for additional confirmation, but the man was dead.

“Now, I must admit, I wasn’t expecting that,” announced Rose, as she finally cleared the area. Safely outside again, she swung around the nearest corner of the Grand Hall, landing on the next wall.

“You’re telling me!” replied Meyer, sounding appalled. “He couldn’t have named a more surprising figure . . . even the executive justice himself.”

Rose moved along the overlook, keeping away from windows as usual. Below her, plenty of emergency vehicles were already speeding towards the Hall, with some of the airborne ones landing in the building’s various hangars. All along the face she stood, lights of other rooms were flashing to life, their occupants being alerted to the incident. “They certainly got on
that
fast,” she commented to the abyss.

Meyer hesitated. “Wow! You
can
be cold sometimes, Byruhme,” he said. “Just out of curiosity, do you feel any remorse at all?”

Rose shrugged, though Meyer could obviously not see. “Sure I do. But business is business. We’re talking about traitors here. They upheld neither allegiance to the Court nor any to us. Plus they meant to stab me in the back . . . as well as the rest of us. In this situation, it was kill or be killed, Captain. They didn’t deserve a single shred of sympathy.”

“Well, I’m just hoping you’re not as cruel as that last man believed. Sometimes . . . well, sometimes you’re really quite intimidating.”

“I have a heart, Captain, if that’s what you want to hear. But when dealing with traitors . . . or any of my assignments for that matter . . . it becomes a liability.” She thought for a moment, trying hard not to imagine the representatives’ dying coughs and futile flailing . . . And the way their eyes (more than their words) begged for forgiveness. “I have a duty,” she enunciated, more to herself than to Meyer. “There’re sacrifices.”

“Uh huh,” the man expressed, with what sounded like doubt. “Well, anyways, what about Councilor Silatine? Can you even believe—”

“Yes, Captain, actually,” she replied at once. “At first it was a shock, but it makes perfect sense. Think about it. Her proximity to the council; hell, she practically IS the council, at least from this point of view. Her proximity to the memory spike. I can all but guarantee she was the one who accessed it and then passed it off to her lackeys. And then there’s her motivation. Florenial has been facing increased resistance from Union forces for several weeks now. I’m sure she’d pay a very high price to have us relax efforts there.”

“No kidding,” the man breathed, sarcastically but agreeably. “We should’ve put this together the moment we saw her then. She seemed so . . . purpose-driven. The signs were there.”

“Indeed,” agreed Rose. “And let’s not forget the last bit of evidence: Her distaste for Dailunavein. You heard how she resisted the idea of aid for them every minute of her meeting with Kelrundum. Perhaps she believes that if she provides intel that Fontaine seeks on the system, it’ll expedite the Union’s control over it—thereby rendering Florenian aid inconsequential.”

“Huh,” hummed Meyer in interest. “So, with one hand she minimizes resistance on her own world’s front, and with the other she prevents further movement in the Court to send aid to Dailunavein.”

“That’s my working theory, yes,” answered Rose. She pulled out her slate and began acquiring details on the third representative.

“The question is: Why in space would Hiellta lock the device? It seems to me that reducing our efforts on Florenial, which we’re already doing, and speeding up Fontaine’s objectives on Dailunavein would be enough. Even not acquiring the intel they desired couldn’t amount to what they’d gain by cooperating like planned.”

Locating the floor and room of the Forcurrian, Rose stowed the slate once more and walked to a better jump point. “Well, we weren’t actually
planning
on giving that intel to Fontaine or the Norvanulls,” she specified.

“But she couldn’t possibly know that,” Meyer countered. “This bit of detail doesn’t make strategic sense.”

Without even considering the anomaly, Rose suddenly figured it out. “Unless the representatives betrayed more than just us and the Court in general . . .” She then thought quickly. “They
were
talking about how they shouldn’t have even gotten involved. I’ll bet anything that they got cold feet and backed out.” She then laughed. “I wonder what would’ve been their punishment once that insufferable councilor got ahold of them?”

“Interesting,” said Meyer. “So what’s the plan for her then?”

“I’m on my way to the last rep. now. I’ll question him like the others then dispose of him. After that . . .” She paused, considering her authority. Immediately, she wanted to seek out Hiellta herself, obtain the code, and destroy her as well. However, it was not clear whether her master would approve of this once learning who the grand organizer was. “Okay, after that, it would probably be best if we contact Boss R and inform him of these developments. He may want to handle Hiellta more delicately.”

“Good idea,” agreed Meyer. “Shall I get on the horn then? While you deal with the last representative?”

Though the action was unnecessary, Rose shook her head. “No. Not yet. I think I should speak to him myself. If only to prove that I do mean to follow orders and keep him in the loop. Besides, Hiellta was the exact figure he’s been searching for himself. If he has not already found out her identity, it’d be proper of me to provide it—in addition to the details of her meeting with Kelrundum, and the progress of the code and representatives.

“Very good. In that case, I need to check in with my own associates. They’re still monitoring Court data traffic and intel regarding Kyte’s installation. And I also need to speak to Kyte himself. Oh, and . . .” He drew the last word out greatly, and Rose new immediately what he’d say next. “Colonel Lonng will certainly appreciate hearing of what scant progress I can give him.” His very voice seemed shaken, but from growing irritation not from fear. “Anyways,” he continued quickly. “Happy hunting. I’ll make contact again after I’m through.”

“Copy that,” answered Rose. She disconnected with Meyer and dove for the Forcurrian’s room.

***

Standing in his office alone now, Captain Meyer put his hands on his desk and leaned in fatigue. Like he had postulated, Colonel Lonng would surely want contact sooner than later. However, the captain wondered if even the significant developments he could report would appease the demanding man. Lonng always wanted more . . . and faster than reasonable. He would probably only accept the acquisition of the code and return of Byruhme as satisfactory progress.

Sighing and preparing himself for violent criticism, Meyer reached for the conference controls on his desk. He punched in Command’s contact information and waited. The fires of the Forcurrian display burned to life once more and danced, waiting for direction. Casting flickering light around the office, they finally organized and ran with colors. Meyer stood up straight to greet his superior . . . but then felt relieved upon seeing another instead.

“This is Command,” opened a woman, one of Lonng’s assistants. She locked eyes with him at once and offered a respectful bow. “Captain Meyer, good to hear from you. Do you have something to report?”

“Yes I do. I was trying to get in touch with Colonel Lonng. He requested an update on our operation as soon as one developed. Where is he?”

“Oh, sorry, Captain,” answered the woman with a faint (and almost undetectable) shudder. “He . . . Some of our own superiors have paid us a visit . . . I presume in order to assess our progress on Forcurrier.”

Meyer tilted his head, surprised. “Really? Did . . . did they mention why?” He asked the question as genuinely as possible, but already feared it to be because the spike had not reached their hands yet.

“I haven’t been told personally,” said the woman. “But I think it has to do with that memory spike. Colonel Lonng, as you know, is the presiding officer over this operation. He is also one of the only figures who’s been requested to the meeting.” Again, the woman exhibited a brief shiver.

“Is . . . everything alright there?” asked Meyer. “You seem a bit on edge.”

At this, the woman smiled and nodded. “Oh, yes. Now would you like for me to forward your report to the colonel once his meeting concludes?”

Thinking it over, Meyer decided he did not want to provide anything that could change once Colonel Lonng reestablished contact with him. He glanced around for a minute and then back to the assistant. “Um . . . let me hold off on providing the specifics,” he deflected. “The colonel would probably prefer it if I presented the details to him personally.” Though she did not speak, the woman held an agreeable posture. “What I can say is that my agent has made some progress. She is searching for intel as we speak and should have a more accurate estimation on the time necessary to acquire the objective.”

The woman nodded. “Certainly. I’ll forward this information as soon as the colonel returns. I-I’m sure he will be glad to hear of progress.” The woman then turned her head slightly, glancing to the side. But then she returned her eyes as if nothing was wrong. “Keep up the good work, Captain.” She smiled, uneasily.

“ . . . Of course,” replied Meyer. He bowed and then terminated the session, conflicted.
What was that all about
? he thought.
Colonel Lonng not at his post, the entitled . . . brat . . .
And then there was his assistant’s curious behavior. Apparently, this surprise visit from ‘their superiors’ was not sitting well with the woman . . . for some reason. Perhaps Lonng himself had grown too relaxed in his duties, or maybe his recent impatience (even exaggerated for him) was a product of a fear, which had yet to be revealed.

Captain Meyer switched the conference display to standby mode and exited his office. On the way back to the command room, he gave Lonng’s potential predicament another quick thought; however, just before he reached the final hall on the way, a subordinate of his hurried around the corner.

“Sir! Oh, good. You’re finished with Command.” The man turned with Meyer, got on step with him, and walked back towards the command room. “We’ve been monitoring the Court’s data and communications traffic, just as you requested. But it seems they’ve been able to salvage parts of the data in Kyte’s installation.”

Meyer turned quickly. “What?! What’d they get?”

The man leaned uneasily as they continued forth. “It seems . . . information on our other installations. Specifically, intelligence related to our activities here, our monitoring of their own activities, and quite possibly . . .” he hesitated.

“Spit it out, man!” ordered Meyer. They reached the entrance to the room and stopped.

“We believe they may have obtained coordinates to our other installations,” completed the man timidly.

Meyer tossed his head and leaned closer to his subordinate. “What?!” he repeated, whispering, though surely everyone in the command room already knew. “How could this have happened?”

“We’re not sure. It appears the databanks were more extensive than we anticipated. We believe they were able to invade the system before it was crashed—I mean more deeply than we thought.”

“Who’s working on this breach?” he demanded at once.

“My team over here.” The man walked in quickly, leading the way to a far corner. Meyer followed eagerly, hoping the Court was not already on their way. The subordinate met eyes with one of his associates. “Show him what you’ve found,” he said.

Meyer planted his eyes upon the team’s central computer terminal and scanned. First, two other installations across Forcurrier City came into view. “These are our installations in the city which might’ve been compromised,” said the woman at the controls. “And these . . .” she continued, configuring the display. Four more installations popped up on screen, each separated by many miles, with one on a different continent altogether. “. . . are the ones outside of the city. As of right now, we’re not sure if the Court has accessed the necessary information to determine their exact locations. But we’re working on finding out.”

Meyer put his hands on his hips, flustered. “You need to get clear on this breach immediately!” he ordered. “Put the other stations—” Halting abruptly in mid-sentence, Meyer reached over the woman and commandeered the comm. controls for the entire building. He leaned and spoke. “Attention! This is Captain Meyer. Every non-essential station needs to switch tactics and concentrate efforts on monitoring Court traffic for information pertaining to our other installations! Our locations could’ve been compromised. I want any information found to be forwarded to the command center.” He leaned away, looking to the team. “We need also ensure that the Court’s not already on its way to us . . . or any of our allies.”

“Yes, sir,” replied several of the team. Then the woman sitting in front of him continued. “I’ve already been monitoring their military and law enforcement channels. So far, they’ve not scrambled any large amount of forces to areas near any of our installations. And most of their traffic has been dedicated to either Kyte’s installation . . .” she paused, apparently seeing something new. “And for some reason, to the Grand Hall itself,” she ended, in a curious tone.

Remembering Posteritor Byruhme, Captain Meyer offered his most convincing act of surprise. “The Grand Hall?” he repeated, pointing his eyebrows. He then leaned in closer and scanned the terminal. “Is there a report on what for?”