Rath's Gambit (The Janus Group Book 2) (7 page)

She leaned her head against the window, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. 

7

Director Nkosi found it slightly unnerving, as always, to be briefing a blacked out viewscreen, knowing the three senators on the other end of the line could hear and see her clearly. But the director’s face betrayed none of that uncertainty as she completed the quarterly update.

“Q2 saw a total of three hundred and seven successful missions, up from two hundred and ninety-two in Q1. That brings the quarter’s revenue to a record high just shy of a billion dollars, while profit is up thirty-two percent, year over year.” She advanced the slide presentation, showing a new chart. “We attribute the increase in revenue to the client referral program piloted in Q4 of last year, which is continuing to show strong results for us. And lastly, our public incidents remain close to zero for the year.”

“With the notable exception of Alberon, Director,” one of the senators pointed out. Despite the software garbling the senator’s voice to make it unrecognizable, the director detected more than a hint of annoyance. “I would argue that the Guild has never been more in the public eye than it is today,” the senator continued.

“That mission, Senators, was ill-advised. We conducted it at your behest, let me remind you, and over my objections,” Nkosi shot back.

“Which makes me wonder if you torpedoed the mission on purpose,” the senator replied.

“Absolutely not. I won’t deny that your oversight role has been a source of tension for me in running my family’s business, but I would never do anything to jeopardize the growth and success of that business,” the director told them.

The line was silent. The director cleared her throat to cover the awkwardness. “With that as segue, I’d like to take this opportunity to share a proposal with the Oversight Committee, if you’ll permit me?” she asked. Nkosi tapped on her computer, and a new set of slides appeared. “Senators, you’ve seen the numbers from this quarter. If trends continue, this will be the eighth straight year of increased revenue and profits for the Group. Not coincidentally, it also marks my eighth year as director, after the family asked my uncle to step down … under him, the Group was not only unprofitable, but was headed for insolvency.”

“Indeed. That’s why we demanded his resignation and asked the family to appoint a new director,” one of the senators agreed.

“And I’m thankful you did,” the director gave the camera a tight smile. “But I’ve proved my worth, I believe: the numbers show it. We’re operating leaner, with lower costs and fewer public incidents, all while achieving a higher mission success rate and netting higher fees. I believe it’s time to look for growth opportunities. We polled our customer base and we believe the market is still underserved, and in fact, the survey showed there are a number of other services the Group is well-positioned to provide.”

“What are you proposing, exactly?” a senator asked.

“A two-fold strategy. First, organic expansion. Over the next five years, we’ll recruit and train enough contractors to increase our headcount by sixty percent. We are the market leader, but the majority of contracts are still being fulfilled by independent, local operators, at much lower price points than our own. But we control a forty percent market share, and the market is expected to grow, so increasing by sixty percent is actually a fairly conservative staffing plan – there’s potential to add more, if we see fit.”

She tapped on her keyboard, and the slides advanced again. “Second, I’d like to pilot a program where we roll out additional services to bolster our traditional offering. Specifically, we’ll begin offering a suite of services centered around espionage – corporate, mainly, though we believe there’s a lot of opportunity for inter-government spy work in the Territories. Our contractors are perfectly equipped to deliver against those client needs, though we will likely invest in some retraining efforts to round out their skillset. And those espionage services can also be put to work directly for you, augmenting the limited activities of the official agencies that do that work for the Federacy today. To date, our annual growth rate has been constrained by the limits your committee placed on me. We project these initiatives will lead to a twenty-five percent compound annual growth rate over the next five years. We have the capital set aside, it just remains for you to give me the green light to invest it.” She finished, and steepled her hands on the desk.

The silence dragged, and again, the director had the impression they were discussing something offline, keeping her on mute. Then one of the senators spoke.

“Director, thank you. The quarterly results, as always, are strong. Frankly, we need a minute to discuss your expansion proposal, however.”

“Of course,” she said. “I await your decision.” She hung up and sat back in her chair, tapping her fingers on the arm rest.

* * *

“Is she off the line?” Senator Lizelle asked.

“Yes,” Senator Blackwell said. “Just the three of us.”

Senator Mastic started in. “The plan is compelling – and the espionage expansion is particularly interesting, I have to admit,” she observed.

“The Federacy is sorely under-equipped in that capability today,” Blackwell agreed. “The last Security Committee report I read said that the Territories, in aggregate, have more funding and better capabilities for intelligence-gathering.”

“In aggregate,” Lizelle noted. “Lucky for us, they’re not acting in concert against us.”

“Not yet,” Mastic said, pointedly.

“I’m sorry, are you two actually considering this plan?” Lizelle asked. “It’s a clear violation of the principles this committee was founded to uphold! Principles which were set down and have not changed in over two hundred years, I might add.”

“The Group was developed to counter an internal threat, but today, the threat that looms largest is an external one. The galaxy has changed … perhaps our principles should, too,” Mastic mused.

Blackwell cleared his throat. “The Group’s primary purpose should not change: it has been, and always shall remain, a tool for maintaining order. But we’re tackling that goal largely blind. With expanded espionage capabilities, we could likely prevent more conflict.”

“I’m willing to consider retraining the existing force to conduct intelligence-gathering activities,” Lizelle allowed. “But I’m not clear how those spies will be assigned to support Senate needs – my hunch is that ninety percent of the time, they’ll be used for revenue-generating missions, just like the contractors are today. The director is talking about a massive influx of personnel, and notice – she didn’t say she wanted to hire people to just be spies … she said she wanted to hire more contractors. That means more killers, who could potentially double as spies.
Potentially.
Or they could keep killing, just at a higher rate. We’re chartered to keep the Group in check – let’s not forget it is a criminal organization,” Lizelle argued.

“You have a point,” Blackwell allowed. “An expanded Group could pose as much risk to peace and order in the galaxy as a minimized one. It will increase the number and frequency of murders … which is often destabilizing. I’d recommend she commission a study to determine the possible societal impact.”

“Perhaps in concert with a limited pilot program in a specific region?” Mastic suggested.

“I’ll agree to the study, but no pilot,” Lizelle said.

“Mastic?” Blackwell asked.

“There’s no harm in viewing the study results first. I’ll go along,” she answered.

“We’re agreed then. I’ll dial her back in. Charl, will you share our decision?”

“Of course,” Senator Lizelle agreed. The phone rang, and then the line reopened.

“Encryption established,” a voice announced.

“I’m back online, Senators,” Director Nkosi said.

“Director, I want to thank you again. The proposal is compelling, and particularly the espionage role you suggest,” Senator Lizelle told her, his voice digitally scrambled beyond recognition.

“Thank you.”

“But in your proposal, you noted that we have constrained the Group’s growth in the past. That’s precisely correct – that’s our primary role in this relationship. We keep the wolf in his cage, and only let him out when it’s absolutely necessary. We give you some leeway to hunt, as it were, to sustain the wolf … but we’re not in the business of breeding more wolves.”

The director frowned. “Without additional personnel, the espionage services will have limited effect on your intelligence-gathering capabilities. Our existing workforce is already at capacity, and we’ll have to take a revenue hit while we retrain them.”

“I applaud your commitment to this as a business executive.” The senator paused. “But you’re forgetting a very important fact, I’m afraid. The Group is not, nor was it ever intended to be, a profit engine. It exists to serve the needs of the Federacy, when this Senate committee judges there is such a need. In order to do that, I recognize that you need to collect revenues from other clients – you have a business to run. And I’m sure that your family is ecstatic that you’ve been able to run it so well. But we asked your uncle to step down, and you to assume his role, not to grow this as a business – we brought you in merely to put it back on track. To maintain the status quo, if you will – with the ultimate aim of maintaining peace and order in the galaxy, as it always has been.”

“And we’ve delivered on that objective, Senator,” the director protested.

“Yes, you have. And your family has been amply rewarded over the years, for its leadership of the Group. I would suggest you refrain from becoming … greedy.”

“Senator, if I may—”

“Let me finish. At this time, we’re not approving a headcount increase. However, you’re authorized to commission an independent study of the effects of such an expansion, with an emphasis not on Group financials, but on the rates of violent crime and political instability across the Federacy and the Territories. We’ll table this subject until that study is complete. Thank you, Director – that will be all.”

The director heard the line click off. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and gathering her composure. On the other side of the desk, the Chief of Operations cleared his throat.

“They were offline debating it for some time. That last committee member – whoever he or she is – is clearly opposed, but the other two may be more open-minded,” he guessed.

“I don’t think they are unanimous,” Nkosi agreed. “But as a body, they are more conservative than I had anticipated.”

“I can start searching for a think tank or research department that could do the study …,” the Chief of Operations began.

“Don’t bother,” she said. “The study’s just their way of saying
no
.”

She turned her chair and rose, staring out the window. “We move ahead as planned. Notify your recruiting leads, and start publicizing the increased incentives. I want to see the candidate pipeline at two hundred percent by end of month.”

“What about the Senate oversight committee?”

She turned back to him and raised an eyebrow. “They see only what we want them to see. We’ll just have to be more cautious about what goes in our next report.”

“If they audit us ….”

“We’ll deal with that if and when it happens,” she told him.

“Yes, ma’am.”

* * *

The waiting room outside Senator Lizelle’s office was unusually quiet, Dasi noticed.

Usually there are a bunch of people waiting. I guess his calendar isn’t that full today.

On the couch next to her, Khyron’s leg tapped nervously, and she could see him chewing his lip. Smiling, she reached over and gently put her hand on his knee to calm him.

He stopped jiggling his leg and flashed her a nervous smile. “Sorry.”

A secretary passed through and smiled at them, then recognized the young woman. “Oh, hi Dasi! I didn’t realize you were his next appointment.”

“Hi, Selna,” Dasi replied. “Yeah, we’re scheduled for eleven.”

“Working on another press release?” the secretary asked, pausing at the senator’s door.

“Always. But we’re actually here to see him for something else.”

“Well, his last conference call was running a bit behind, let me see if he’s ready – I’ll be right back.” She knocked discreetly and then let herself in.

Across from Khyron and Dasi, a viewscreen simulated the exterior view from their position in the station. Dasi watched as a shuttle whisked past, banking and then heading for the
Dauntless,
one of six ancient battle cruisers that were still tethered to the asteroid at the heart of Anchorpoint. The ships had long since been converted to serve as the home of the Federal government, their guns decommissioned, fighter bays repurposed as offices and living quarters.

“What if he doesn’t go for it? You’ve only been here a short while, it’s kind of presumptuous of us,” Khyron pointed out.

“Stop worrying! He’ll like it,” Dasi said, smiling reassuringly. “I think.”

The young man grimaced. “What’s taking so long?”

“I don’t know – his schedule showed a Security subcommittee meeting. It’s closed door, members only. Very hush-hush.”

“Why all the secrets? It’s not like we’re at war ….”

“We could be, with all the conflict in the Territories these days,” she lectured him. “It’s committees like this one that keep us safe.”

The door swung open. “He’ll see you now,” the secretary told them.

The senator was pulling a plate of food out of a dumb waiter when they walked in, the privacy screen on his window disappearing to show a view of the constellations twinkling beyond the space station. Unlike in the waiting room, Dasi knew the view to be genuine – Lizelle ranked highly enough that he had earned an outer office with a real window.

“Come in, please!” Lizelle gestured to the food. “I hope you’ll excuse me, just grabbing a late breakfast. Or is it an early lunch now? Whatever. I always forget to eat, and then I get grumpy.” He strode across the room, and clasped Khyron’s hand in a firm handshake. “You must be Khyron.”