Authors: Bennett R. Coles
It was a ridiculous ten minutes, but thankfully it was entirely Chuck’s problem to sort out. Kete spent the time interrogating Lincoln’s private, secure terminal. He wasn’t able to break the encryption, but he still garnered good data to help him understand the Terran methods of security.
Establishing a cyber-position at the network gateway, he identified the number of individual accounts to which it granted access. The crew numbered more than fifty, but right away he noticed that two accounts were much more sophisticated than the rest. One of them was the captain’s, and the other… Thomas Kane, as XO. Hardly surprising, really.
The only surprise Kete felt was in discovering that
only
the two most senior personnel on board had full access and authority over all ship systems. Even as a sergeant in the militia back home, he’d been trusted with more than most of this full-time crew.
Walking through the passageways between the CO’s cabin and the main lab, Kete isolated the sentry signals at critical junctions, and begin to assess how Terran security algorithms worked. They were different here from what he’d seen in routine civilian establishments, but not especially sophisticated. That made sense, actually—security aboard a warship was contained by the hull, and there was a very low volume of traffic.
By contrast, sentries in civilian locations had to daily assess thousands of people in a weather-driven, dynamic environment. It was sad, really, that Terra seemed to spend more time and energy watching its own people, than it did protecting its military secrets.
* * *
The lab was a large, well-lit space with more than a dozen workstations scattered around a variety of advanced scientific devices.
Perhaps a dozen crew members were present, all staring at Breeze and Chuck as they swept into the room. Nary a glance came Kete’s way, and he scanned the room quickly as he filmed Breeze saying a few words of gratitude and encouragement to the team.
As Chuck set up the next interview, this one with Thomas, Kete felt a brush against his arm. He looked over and saw a very junior officer glance up from where he’d positioned himself at the terminal to Kete’s left.
“Oh, excuse me,” the officer said. Kete wondered if the kid was still in training, but the silver pilot’s wings on his dark-blue tunic said otherwise—as did the two ribbons beneath the badge. There was something vaguely odd about his face, but he couldn’t say what.
“Am I in the way?” Kete asked.
“No, no,” the young pilot said with a smile. “I just need to make sure there’s nothing on the screen you shouldn’t be looking at.”
Kete returned the smile and made a show of looking away. Internally, however, he thrust his perception into the workstation’s network access. Some gravimetric readings in a 4-D graph, a comparative cosmographic chart… A top-secret cosmographic chart. He probed further. Kete could access the entire library of Astral Force astrospatial data. Not of particular interest, but did that mean… Yes!
He felt a giddy rush through his mind as the entire Terran military network stretched out before him. It was vast, and deep, and completely exposed. He didn’t even know where to begin.
Discipline
, he chastised himself inwardly.
Use the methods
.
As quickly as he could, he began building an inventory of what was before him, prioritizing for search. It took many seconds to even list the largest of groupings, and even more to break down the most promising into sub-groups of data. Remembering his mission, he zeroed in quickly on the security and communications systems for Longreach.
He jerked as a hand tapped him on the shoulder.
“Hey, you ready?”
He blinked and focused his real eyes on Chuck.
“Sorry?”
“We’re ready for the next interview.”
Kete pulled his conscious mind back into the laboratory, knowing that his subconscious now had a method to follow in a simple download and a solid link to the secure network.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” He glanced at Breeze who was holding court nearby, then back at Chuck. “Late night.” Chuck smirked and nodded.
He turned and rejoined
Armstrong
’s officers, isolating Thomas Kane from the others. Kete followed silently, giving Breeze a wink before setting up beside Chuck to film Kane.
The tall, handsome officer certainly was telegenic, Kete had to admit, and as the interview started he noted idly that Kane obviously knew how to act in front of the media. After the introductory questions and a description of Kane’s current role aboard
Armstrong
, Kete listened as Chuck began to draw out this officer’s recent combat experience.
“Now, I understand you were involved in the recent troubles in the colonies, Commander?” the reporter asked.
“Yes,” Kane responded. “I had the privilege to command the fast-attack craft
Rapier
in both Sirius and Centauria.”
Kete started a separate search for any references to
Rapier
in the past twelve months. Chuck queried
Rapier
’s role during the conflict, to which Kane presented the noble front of commending his crew for their actions under extreme combat circumstances. False humility if Kete had ever seen it.
He listened without surprise as Chuck expertly pulled out the fact that
Rapier
had rescued the hostages on Cerberus, had played a pivotal role in the Battle of Laika—in which Kane himself had ordered his crew to abandon ship due to battle damage, but then single-handedly saved his vessel from burning up in the atmosphere. And then, of course, how
Rapier
and a skeleton crew, led by Kane, had conducted the suicide mission to launch the prototype Dark Bomb, thus enabling the remnant Terran forces to escape back to Terra.
Yes, yes, truly heroic. Kete swallowed his disdain and launched a separate search for
Rapier
’s Dark Bomb mission.
Next up in front of the camera was Breeze, and Kete listened idly as she gave her version of how the Dark Bomb mission was entirely her idea, how her Intelligence efforts had located the hostages, and that she’d been aboard
Rapier
for the rescue. She detailed how her Intelligence efforts had also saved the Terran troopers, who were captured by the Sirians, several weeks later. Kete launched a search for anything associated with Commander Brisebois and the Dark Bomb mission.
Breeze yielded the camera, reluctantly, to
Armstrong
’s science officer, Helena Grey. She came across as rather sullen, explaining as best she could the importance of
Armstrong
’s research, but even she knew her words sounded hollow after the combat adventures of Kane and Breeze. Chuck threw some softball questions at her, but Kete sensed that her answers about the research were rather forced, and rather vague.
That final interview mercifully came to a quick end, and Kete rubbed his eyes as he deactivated his camera. He wasn’t even close to finishing his download of the Terran database, though, and he had to stall the proceedings.
“Chuck,” he said, “it might be good to have a few more faces to mix in.” He glanced around the room, noticing the young pilot from before. “Maybe some of the youngsters on the team, to appeal to the key recruiting demographic.”
“Good thinking.” Chuck nodded in agreement. “Thomas, any recommendations?”
“How about two junior officers working on the Dark Bomb project?” Kane immediately motioned for the pilot and another young, female officer to approach. As he did, Grey looked as if she’d tasted something foul.
Chuck quickly introduced himself and had the pair stand side by side under Kete’s renewed gaze. He addressed the pilot first.
“What’s your name, sir?”
“Uhh, Jack Mallory.” The young man glanced uncertainly at Kete, then back at Chuck. “I’m a pilot.”
“How is it that a pilot gets dragged into research into theoretical, warped geometry physics?”
“Yeah, good question.” Mallory rolled his eyes slightly. “Uhh, I guess it was because I came up with the idea for the Dark Bomb we dropped on the Centauris.”
“Did you?” The surprise in Chuck’s voice mirrored that in Kete’s mind.
This kid? He immediately began a search for Jack Mallory and the Dark Bomb, while Mallory told—with increasing confidence—his own tale of heroism from the conflict, and how his role as an anti-stealth pilot had given him both the training and experience to develop the theory that led to the creation of the prototype weapon.
The only time he really stumbled was when Chuck asked him what role he’d played in rescuing the hostages from Cerberus. Mallory paled slightly, and he quickly covered one half of his face with his hand in what looked to Kete like a well-worn gesture. After he mumbled an answer, Chuck concluded the interview and moved on to the other youngster, Sublieutenant Amanda Smith.
That interview proceeded without incident or heroism, and Chuck quickly wrapped things up. Kete was still trying to wrench as much as possible from the exposed Terran network, but even he could only come up with so many reasons to keep filming in the lab.
A few establishing shots, and some posed footage of researchers hard at work, and Chuck began to get antsy. So Kete let himself merge into the background again as the reporter said his farewells to the
Neil Armstrong
research team, continuing the download of raw data even out into the passageway, until his distance from the terminals finally became too great.
* * *
Breeze was at his side as they exited the ship and strolled back through Astral Base One. She was pensive, he could tell, but she kept up the mildly flirtatious chatter with Chuck all the way to the space elevator. Kete was content to remain out of the conversation, churning over the goldmine of data he’d uncovered. Without question, he had to make direct contact with Centauri Intelligence, even if it meant putting his own mission on hold.
Based on what he’d already uncovered from the Terran network, the pace of this mission had suddenly accelerated. Soon it would be time to bring in the big hardware.
Thomas watched idly as Soma flitted around the great room, methodically locating the various items essential for her day out. It wouldn’t be such a chore, he knew, if she just put everything down in the same spot when she entered the house, but to do so would apparently go against a lifetime of habit.
It was irritating as hell, especially when they were rushing out to a function, but he supposed it was just one of those things to which he had to resign himself—all part of getting to know his spouse and life partner.
“When are we going to get a maid?” Soma muttered. “This place is a mess.”
“The maid was here two days ago,” Thomas said. “She’ll be back today.”
The last essential item—her Baryon—was discovered under a pile of yesterday’s shopping on the couch, and her mood immediately brightened.
“Ah, there we are.” She crossed the rug toward him, the light material of her deep-red dress flowing around her calves. In a single, sweeping motion she bent over, kissed him, and started toward the front hall. “Jade and I will be at the spa, then we’re meeting some friends for drinks around six. Will you join us?”
“Absolutely.” Thomas knew that “six” more likely meant “eight-thirty” and he wondered idly what he’d do for dinner. “Just call me when you meet up with your friends.”
“Love you, darling.” Her voice faded out the door.
He sat back in his chair, savoring the peace. After two weeks aboard
Armstrong
he found he quite appreciated a Saturday at home. That ship was truly a mess, and it was going to take some time to get it moving in the right direction. It was probably a good thing his appointment hadn’t been official, because then he’d be officially responsible for the success or failure of the project. As a temporary supervisor, he could take credit for success, but could just shrug and walk away from a failure.
The political games were getting easier.
The problem, as always, remained Breeze. By aligning his fate so closely to hers, he was probably safe from her Fleet Marshall Investigation, but Parliament wanted a scapegoat, and Breeze would provide them one with gusto.
A chill rippled through him at the thought. If he wasn’t going to be the sacrificial lamb, then he knew who was.
Grabbing his Baryon, he started a search for addresses in the local metropolitan area. Katja had been based in Longreach fairly recently, but things could happen quickly with military postings…
No—she was still here.
He hesitated for a moment, knowing deep down that there was another motive behind his impulse, then typed her a quick message. She needed to know what kind of danger she was in.
* * *
The shade of the broad table umbrella eased the heat of the day, but he could still feel the glistening moisture on his arms as the hot desert wind gusted along the boardwalk. The worst of the storms had passed, but the air was still like a furnace, even here by the water. Heat rippled the view of the tall towers that lined the shore, and the space elevator cables further away.
He’d already sipped away half of his beer, but he wasn’t sure if that was due to dehydration or nerves. He was surprised by the butterflies that churned in his stomach, feeling almost as if he was waiting for a blind date to start. In a sense, he realized, he almost was.
He glanced at his watch. Their agreed meeting time had come and gone fifteen minutes ago, and he was a little surprised at her tardiness. It certainly didn’t match his memories of the straight-laced, ever-professional trooper he’d come to admire during the troubles. Then again, this was Earth, and peace time. He took another sip of his beer, scanning the pedestrians for a short, swift blonde.
He spotted her as she cut across the avenue from the bus stop, her lithe movements unmistakable as she navigated through the crowd without touching anyone. He leaned forward, feeling his stomach tighten again. She was dressed casually in a sleeveless top, knee-length walking shorts and sandals, her eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. She still had her long hair, but it was tied back in a ponytail and gave her face almost the same appearance as the close-cropped blonde halo he knew so well.