Birthright: Battle for the Confederation- Pursuit Page 19

  Merritt only pondered it for a second. "I can appreciate that, of course. You really would make a competent Fixer."

  "I think my retirement plan is better."

  "I would love to sit down and show you some of my plans sometime. I'll contact you on this device when I receive a reply?"

  "Please."

  "So," Web asked conversationally as they stuck to the shadows in a light industrial area on the outskirts of Harkor, Callidor's capital city, "what brings us here?"

  "I operated out of here for a while before we met that fateful day," Halley said with a grin. "I have resources here we can use, first of all. I expect that at least one or two of my caches are still intact, which will give us money and equipment. And unless they've all been run off by the Primans, I know people who can do work for us; making IDs, getting supplies, that sort of thing. Nothing too complicated or risky, obviously, but it can lighten our load if we can pass off a few things to others.

  "There's also the fact that what little data Velk gave us points to this city as the place to be. There are a number of important Priman facilities here; governing, storage, research and more. He gave us some specs to keep an eye out for as to what one of these data storage facilities might look like. So, we scout the place for a while and see if we can come up with a few leads."

  "And when we find something?" Web queried.

  "We take it and run like hell."

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Loren, Merritt and Cory sat around the small dinette in their suite.

  "We have two leads here," Loren began. "One is a group of activist hackers who are constantly pushing a pro-AI agenda through every outlet they can reach. They're just about on the order of lobbyists. They're well funded and are very careful to cultivate an upstanding image; these aren't smelly, bored kids protesting the issue of the month. They have a clear agenda and are by all accounts very good at their awareness campaigns. The laws aren't going to change, but they make sure people know about the story.

  "Next lead is something brought to the admiral by some SAR friends of Halley's. This group is quite the opposite of the first; they've staged information warfare attacks, taken down electronic storefronts, even tried to build their own AIs and set them loose. They've gained traction now from people who think that either AIs could fight the Primans for us or that we screwed it all up and they should let the robots run the place instead. Either way, we need to check out both of these groups."

  "Plan?" asked Cory simply.

  "We split up; you and Merritt take the upstanding lobbyists, I'll go say hi to the subversive robo-fans."

  "You can understand if that seems risky," Merritt cautioned.

  "Not as bad as you might think," Loren admitted. "That's one of the reasons Captain Elco kept us on schedule here instead of trying something else when we realized the Primans had our travel plans. Halley's friends set up some bona fides for me and arranged an introduction. One of their number is actually operating undercover in the periphery of the group to keep tabs on them and helped broker the deal for us. I'm going in as myself. I know, it will be a tough act, but I'm headed in under the guise of an off-the-books Confed mission to investigate the use of AIs in combat. It's everything these jokers dream about, and they fairly salivated at the thought of giving me a sales pitch that I might take back to the brass. Hopefully I'll get some sort of door prizes or goody bags when I leave."

  "Provided they let you leave," Cory interjected. "Their group is currently considered a threat and several of their number are on watch lists."

  "The SAR guy is there to make sure of that," Loren reassured her. "He knows I'm on a mission that requires me to get in and eventually leave. His orders are to get me out if need be.

  "Now, as for you two, you get the more pleasant evening. There's a fund-raiser for the lobbyists tonight and you're going to go give them a big deposit from a Galactic Bank account the admiral set up for you. You hang around, show some interest, and see if there's something you can offer to do while you're in town. Your cover is refugees from the Talaran Collection- ID packages are in the same message buffer for you that has the bank info. You're in town looking for a place to set down and thought you'd offer to contribute to the effort to help stop the invaders by helping the group in their mission to get AIs back on the streets."

  "You'll be out and about as well?" asked Cory.

  "My meet is a little bit later; you'll probably be able to give me a quick vid call and tell me your impressions of the meet, but I'll have a late night."

  Cory and Merritt arrived at the fund-raiser a bit early and walked the building to get the lay of the land before the event started. They collected their tickets using the fake credentials they'd assumed and exchanged them at the door for entry into the ballroom.

  Merritt had to admit, these people had style. The room was several stories tall, lavishly decorated with floor-to-ceiling banners and draperies done in dark reds that contrasted with the veined white marble that much of the room was constructed from or decorated with. They found their table and took a seat after collecting drinks from a roaming waiter.

  "Not such a bad gig, eh?" Merritt said lightly, trying to gauge his wife's mood.

  "Could be worse," she admitted, then seemed to lose herself in the study of a painting hanging on a wall. It was real, done in oils on canvas, not a solid holo reproduction. That had to have been expensive as well.

  Merritt studied her for a minute, trying to decide on how to proceed. His eyes darted among the wait staff that breezed around the space, checking on drinks and seeing to other more mundane requests from the attendees.

  Cory noticed his nervousness and finally just looked at him. "I know you think there's something going on with me," she said gently, to which Merritt could do nothing more than give her an impassive face.

  "Here's where traditionally someone might say 'no, you're fine'." She waited for his response.

  "You know something's up," Merritt replied. "No point in insulting you by pretending there's nothing to say." He shifted in his seat, leaning forward across the table towards her. "I think you're upset by losing another wingman. You've lost a few of them, Cory, and I think it's starting to get to you. Now, I'm not a psychologist and I won't pretend to know exactly how you feel, but I will say that I'm ready to listen or do whatever I can to be there. Whatever you need, ok?"

  She blinked and nodded, smile fixed in place, but he knew it was a gesture; she wasn't smiling with her whole face, her eyes didn't light up. She was just trying to put him at ease.

  "I'll deal with it," she said, trying to sound confident.

  Merritt just stared down at the table setting in front of her, hoping she'd continue.

  "Doctor Elrad said there are things we can do to try and move on," she said. "She said we should make sure we remember them, that what they did wasn't in vain or forgotten."

  "Wise words," Merritt offered.

  "So what do we do? If we put their callsign patches on the wall or a plaque in the ready room it'll scare off the new arrivals. We've lost so many, Merritt, and I'm just having a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that we'll need to lose more."

  Merritt placed his hand lightly on hers. "I can't say anything to change that fact," he said softly, remorsefully. "It's wrong, but it's going to happen. All I can think to say is that we each need to do what part we can to bring this to a close as soon as possible. We need to stop the Primans before war becomes a way of life and we lose any more good people than are required for the task. And on a personal note, I hope you're among the number that gets to send the squadron off when this is all over and we get some long term R&R."

  Cory nodded as she squeezed his hand. She wasn't cured. The feeling of hopelessness would come back; this she knew from unpleasant experience as of late. But it was better for now, and she'd take what relief she could get.

  "I guess we should go make some friends," Merritt suggested, and they stood up together to find somebody to talk to.


  Two hours later, Loren received a comm call. He sat up straight from his comfortable position in the living area of the group's small suite and activated the video feature.

  He saw Merritt's face against a backdrop of an ornate banquet hall.

  "How was the food?" Loren asked of the other man.

  "Quite good, actually," replied Merritt, "though I thought the dinner rolls were a bit dry." He shifted position a bit so that Loren could see the mingling crowd behind him. Loren saw a tiny icon on the bottom of the screen that indicated Merritt was using the dampening field in his device, which prevented any sound from getting more than an arm's length from the comm unit. It allowed people to talk and listen normally but maintain privacy because the sound didn't make it to any prying ears. Loren was glad of the feature; it allowed him and Merritt to discuss the evening while allowing him to survey the faces in the crowd behind and try to gauge their mood.

  "We made our donation," Merritt began, "and got to chat with one of the more important figures in the organization. I'll be honest; it didn't amount to much. We talked politics and ideology, and agreed that we all feel the same about certain important issues. But nothing substantial came of it. He offered to help place us, maybe working with public awareness or something to that effect. I just didn't get a feel from him that they were into anything. It's hard to put to words, but it was all rhetoric. There was no fire to him, no burning drive that I would have expected of somebody in his position. I'd say if this bunch knows anything, this man isn't in on it. I could be wrong, of course. There are three recorded events in which I made the wrong call, after all."

  Loren chuckled. "Three? I've never been wrong. If that's your impression, though, I'm inclined to believe it for starters. You might as well make your way back here when it's prudent to leave. I'm heading out now and I'll check in when I can later."

  Loren walked the streets to his meet. The location was at a bar in a trendy district of the town currently undergoing a renewal of sorts. There were still a number of older or unoccupied buildings that were being renovated, and Loren assumed the actual meet would take place in one of them after they'd checked him out initially. Though dressed as a civilian, he had decided to wear his SSK in a concealed holster in his back waistband. He'd debated the policy, but finally figured that it would only reinforce the point that he was military and all about business. He'd turn it over to the first person he met as a gesture of trust and hope he wouldn't need to retrieve it forcefully.

  He heard the place before he turned the corner and saw it. It was a three story structure, lit up against the night from top to bottom with all manner of lights and advertising.

  He had elected to just walk up to the two burly Trin who were standing in front of the door blocking the entrance. A few people grumbled and threw half-hearted snipes his way about going to the front, but he simply walked up to the men guarding the entrance.

  "My name's Loren," he said simply. "There are some people inside who should be expecting me."

  They just stared at him, waiting. Loren was familiar enough with interrogation and resistance to it that he knew the only appropriate response was to stare back and hold his ground. If they sensed him backing down or looking for a way out, they'd know he wasn't a player and would probably act accordingly.

  "Are you planning on telling them," he prodded, "or are you just going to stare at me?"

  They kept up the act, but after a few seconds one of them held up a comm device and tapped a few commands into it. He then held it up so the camera could capture Loren's image. Another tap, a nod to the screen, and he stepped to the side so Loren could enter.

  "Second floor, left balcony," was all he said.

  Loren only nodded, then walked confidently between the two. He tensed against the small chance that they might take the opportunity to bag him and bring him up under their control, but he passed without incident.

  The bar was loud, with flashing lights, a pulsating throng of people rolling back and forth to the music like waves on the sea. He bypassed it all and headed right to the stairs for the second floor.

  It didn't take more than a few seconds to spot his destination: a roped off portion that took up the entire left upper balcony overlooking the dance floor below. It was only about half full, and those that were there didn't appear to be taking part in the festivities to the extent that the people at ground level were. The people closest to the rope partition, athletic types wearing layered clothing designed to conceal various types of weapons, closed on Loren as he approached the boundary.

  "My name's Loren," he repeated the act from downstairs. "I believe I'm expected."

  There were three of them, all youngish human women. They didn't look imposing at first, but their grace of movement and calculating glances reminded Loren of Halley, and he knew what a horrible idea it was to mess with her. He'd assume similar dedication from these three.

  "You are expected," the first one, the apparent leader, said. She had her long blonde hair in a ponytail and eyed him up professionally. "Are you armed?"

  "Guy like me with business like mine in this part of town?" Loren replied with a calculated smirk. "Of course I am. You're welcome to it while I'm here as long as you take responsibility for my well-being within the building."

  "You'll be safe from others, you have our word. Our bosses, though, are another matter if you try anything unfortunate."

  "Deal," Loren replied, and slowly reached back to his waistband the draw his SSK. The biometric safeties wouldn't allow anyone else to fire it, so he wasn't worried about it being used against him. He only worried about a possible double-cross and actually getting the weapon back on his departure; he'd been through a lot with that gun and didn't take the thought of losing it lightly.

  He drew his sidearm, then grabbed it by the barrel with his left hand before handing it over to the three women. The first one inspected it quickly and then gave it to one of her associates, who tucked it into the folds of her outer wrap.

  "Follow me," she said.

  The group weaved their way through the crowd on the upper balcony. To his surprise, they didn't stop. Instead, they continued on through a doorway in the back wall. They passed through a makeshift hallway and then into another large open space, and then Loren realized what had happened. They'd gone through the exterior wall and into the next building, leaving the nightclub altogether. Now the group of four stood alone in the middle of a large space on the top floor of the new building. It had an air of abandonment, much like the rest of the district appeared to be sporting. A series of bright artificial lights illuminated the space, leaving the corners and whatever stairs or elevator there was in shadow.

  "Commander Loren Stone," he heard a voice from the darkness. He resisted turning to look, instead staring at the woman guard who'd been watching him since their entrance. He raised an eyebrow at her, as if to question the theatrical nature of the introduction. She tried hard but failed to completely suppress a grin of her own.

  "That would be me," Loren replied, now turning towards the footsteps that approached him. There were three of them, all young males; a human, Drisk, and Qualin. They all wore fashionable clothes and looked as if they'd spent the previous interval in the nightclub waiting for him.

  "Please forgive the cloak and dagger routine," the Drisk began. "We needed time to run your profile one more time and give Sharah there a chance to make sure you weren't a one man assault team or anything." He inclined his head to the woman who'd been escorting Loren, who simply nodded her own head in reply.

  "Did she frisk you?" the Drisk asked.

  Sharah looked at Loren, then gave a mildly disapproving look to the Drisk.

  "I'm just saying she has great technique; you should try it sometime."

  "I told the young lady I had plans for the evening and my wife and I have a strictly monogamous relationship," Loren countered, giving Sharah a wink in the hopes of indicating no harm done. "But if it makes you feel better, I'll go through whatever you w
ant. I promise to not like it, though."

  "We scanned him," Sharah stated. "No knives, active comm units, any of that. He's clean."

  "You say so," the Drisk said with an air of disappointment. He walked over to Loren and held out his hand. "Name's Mako. That's all, just Mako."

  Loren shook the offered hand and waited for the introductions. "That's Lex," he said, indicating the human, "and the quiet one is Chordus." The Qualin simply blinked, something Loren knew as a sign of greeting among their people. He blinked twice in return, and the Qualin's ears twitched in surprise at Loren’s knowledge of the culture.

  "You're here because your government is secretly interested in whether you can get AIs to fight for the Confederation, eh?" began Mako. He put his hand on Loren's shoulder and steered him towards a random corner of the room, leaving the women behind as the human and Qualin trailed a few paces after them.

  "That's the idea," Loren said from the script. "Emphasis on secret. Let's be honest with each other in the interests of building trust, ok? Your group and several members are on more than one watch list for your activities and interests. I'm not here because of that. In fact, if you can help us out, I'm sure my superiors would be more than willing to reconsider your classification. But the truth is that we want to know if anyone out there has AI technology ready to use. Forget the laws, of course; I want to know who's got something developed and ready to put into play, legal or not."

  "Well, you have the right people as far as our interest in AI tech goes," Mako replied smoothly, "but I'm not sure what we can offer as far as further information. You see, we're all upstanding citizens, wrongly accused of subversive activities. Perhaps we might be able to dig up some contact information and steer you towards a less law-abiding citizen who pays less attention to the AI Accords."

  "That would be more information than I have now," Loren conceded, though he was sure this was not the end of their verbal sparring, "so let's start there."