Birthright: Battle for the Confederation- Reprisal Read online

  Chapter 12

  Halley had received the response she had been hoping for. Loren and his team would be arriving in three days. The reply had basically said that she was going to get everything she had asked for. Having acquired a somewhat pessimistic view of appropriations in her time in the military, this told her something: Confed was seriously alarmed about what she’d found.

  She had quickly sent a message to Garrett requesting a meeting. She had also decided to take some new precautions with their meeting. Callidorian security forces were no slouches, and in the wake of the Priman defeat in the Delos system, surveillance had stepped up noticeably. Running quickly through the places she’d been seen with him in public, she had decided it was time to take their meeting to a different location entirely.

  She had asked him to meet her the following afternoon at a particular resort along the Blue Coast, the single biggest tourist draw on the entire planet of Callidor. Even with the virtual elimination of offworld tourists, the local population sought out the location with a vengeance. The Blue Coast was located in a semitropical area and featured a stretch of beautiful beach that was several hundred miles long, snaking its’ way along a coast that included oceanfront as well as two large gulfs and waterways leading to several large and picturesque inland lakes. Warm climate, white sandy beaches, and the trademark clear blue water provided the backdrop. In the area had sprung the typical vacation and recreation facilities: hotels, waterparks, restaurants, museums, theme parks, cruise ship ports (oceangoing as well as spacefaring), and more, each new one more grand than the last.

  It was a perfect place to blend in while in plain sight. The skimpy bathing suits preferred by most people at the beach precluded the use of the most common forms of surveillance, which usually required the user to hide some amount of equipment on or near their person. Anyone wearing more than a bathing suit would be extremely conspicuous, and Halley had a plan in place to cover the remaining methods of observation.

  She had to admit, it was in fact a beautiful place to be. The sharp blue sky harbored only the occasional cloud, which never seemed to block out the sun’s rays by even the slightest margin. The temperature was, for lack of a better term, perfect. It was not too humid, not too warm, and it seemed like every time she was about to think it was getting a tad hot, a cool and gentle breeze would come in from offshore, renewing the fresh air and cooling everyone down just a bit. Perfect.

  Halley was relaxing at a table for two set up along a line of such tables on the beach itself, part of the frontage owned by the resort she was staying at. She was partway into her second drink, not too concerned about the alcohol in it affecting her since her nanites were working overtime to metabolize the alcohol and keep her level-headed. Still, it was important for appearances that she appear to be partaking of the experience. She held a roll-up data screen, and if anyone had gotten close enough to look, they would have noticed she was intently reading an article on local fashion trends from a popular publication.

  She had been required to fend off two men who tried to take a seat at her table, and if Garrett ended up being late to the meeting, she was going to start looking suspicious if she shooed away everyone but let him sit down.

  She needn’t have worried, because Garrett appeared right on schedule.

  Garrett, ever the professional, had come attired exactly as Halley had asked him to, right down to the ridiculous-but-popular sandals the men seemed to be wearing this year. His ability to stand out or blend in was used this day to become one with the masses. He had even accessorized, carrying a small videocamera on a lanyard around his neck and a roll-up data screen of his own loaded with tourist publications about the Blue Coast area. Halley could tell that he spent a reasonable amount of time in the gym- he was fit and athletic without looking like that’s all he did with his spare time, and she couldn’t tell if his smile when he saw her was part of the act or for real.

  He made a show of approaching her table, leaning under the low-hanging umbrella, and asking politely if she wouldn’t mind a bit of company while he got his bearings. She nodded simply and indicated the other chair with a jut of her chin, then went back to reading her data screen.

  Garrett, playing the role until she gave him a sign otherwise, spoke up. “Could you recommend a drink? Something suitable to the scenery and company, perhaps?”

  “We’ve just met. Are you hitting in me already?”

  “Too soon?” he replied with a grin. “I’m sorry. I could order us drinks first, and then begin with compliments and small talk when you’re ready.”

  “I don’t want you to hurt yourself thinking too hard now,” she said with a faint smile, “so I’ll take the lead.”

  At the first opportunity, she hailed a waiter and ordered them two tropical themed drinks, complete with garish umbrellas, fruit slices, and some sort of pudding-like substance that came in a small cup on the side. She swiped a small key fob that was connected to one of her identities and credit accounts as she collected the drinks from the waiter.

  She grabbed the rim of a glass and handed it to Garrett, who noticed that she held a tiny bulb of clear liquid between her fingers. She squeezed a single drop into the drink as she passed it to him, motioning for him to take a swig.

  “What sort of local concoction is this?” he asked. He brought it up to his nose and snapped his head back in surprise. “It smells like pee.”

  “Well, it obviously must not taste like pee, since so many people are drinking it.”

  He eyed her suspiciously. It was not unheard of for clients or contacts to attempt some sort of hazing of him, especially early on in a business relationship. The vast majority of people knew he wasn’t amused by such childish pranks and would swiftly part ways with someone who pulled a stunt like that, and he would give her the benefit of the doubt that she wasn’t doing so now.

  “You first. If you don’t spit it out, I’ll assume it tastes ok.”

  “I’m telling you, it’s not pee. It may smell odd, but you probably noticed the extra ingredient in your drink. There’s the culprit. Come on now, I wouldn’t do anything horrible to you.” She flashed a wry, mischievous grin that dared him to take a sip.

  “Alright, I’ll trust you this once. I’m just saying, if this is pee, we’re going to have trouble on the horizon.”

  “Thank you for trusting me.” She replied as he gingerly took a sip. “Now, drink your pee.”

  The comment and her deadpan delivery were too much, and he choked for a second and did a spit-take, sending a spray of his beverage into the sand. Halley couldn’t help herself, and dissolved into laughter that soon caught him up, too. He finally caught his breath and took a series of large gulps, then set the drink down. Despite the questionable aroma, it did taste quite good.

  He felt a little different for just a second, like he was humming. It gave him a shiver up his spine, but was gone in a flash.

  “So, what did I just ingest?” he asked suspiciously.

  Halley smiled again. “I gave you a small dose of a substance that slightly alters your body’s electrical field for a short while. I took something similar.” She didn’t mention that she could switch that ability in herself on and off at will, or that those were her nanites in the drop of water she had put in his drink. The nanites in him would replicate enough to generate the electrical field changes, then disassemble each other in an hour, having served their purpose. Garrett didn’t really have a pressing need to know that. “Out here, with everyone in a bathing suit, you can’t get close enough to anyone to electronically monitor a conversation without looking extremely suspicious. That leaves a directional microphone and lip reading. The umbrella and these ridiculous drinks with all the trimmings takes care of the lips, and the electrical field charge scrambles microphones. We’re as secure are anyone can get, as long as we don’t draw attention to ourselves.”

  “Too bad you aren’t interested in getting more attention,” Garrett said. “With that swimsuit you’re wearing, yo
u look decidedly overdressed.” Halley was wearing a white two-piece with a short skirted bottom. While in many places that would be considered revealing enough to get the imagination going, on this beach she might as well have been wearing a brown paper bag from head to toe. The way the white fabric highlighted her brunette hair and hazel eyes, he thought it made her look like the sexiest woman on the beach.

  “Yes, well, if you’re wearing a swimsuit with more surface area than the napkin under your drink, you’re not going to get much attention, and that’s my fondest desire right now. Besides, then they’d see my scar.”

  “Oh, you just know I have to ask exactly where that is.”

  “Ask all you want, but you’re not getting a show.”

  “Of course not. I just like seeing you in a bikini, that’s all.” He tried to sound businesslike and dismissive of the statement, but in truth was disappointed. “You could have the scar removed easy enough.”

  How easy, he had no idea. She had toyed with having the nanites repair the skin, but decided against it. With the swimsuit she was wearing, nobody would see it anyway. “I prefer to keep it. It’s a reminder, among other things. My work is dangerous, always respect your job and those who work against you. It helps me remember my past is real. I stole that last part from a song I like. Still, I travel light; sometimes the only things I have to remember where I’ve been are my memories, and the occasional wound.”

  “So who do you work for?”

  “Still on that, aren’t you? Well, I’ll tell you what. I’ve asked you here for that job I mentioned a little while back. It needs to be done in two days. I just need you to secure a garage for a meeting I’m going to have. If you do this, you’ll meet the people I work for.”

  “Will this result in imprisonment, death, or a life on the run for me?”

  “No reason it should,” Halley replied matter-of-factly. “They will keep your secret safe. It’s not like people don’t know who you are, in the right circles at least. You’ve done a superb job of keeping law enforcement off your back, and as far as I can tell, you’re not the remorseless mercenary type, so I don’t see any danger in us all getting to know each other. In short, no, we won’t detain, arrest you, tell everyone who you are, or section your brain to see how you think.”

  “What a relief. What do I need to do?”

  “I’m having a meeting in a parking garage back in Harkor in the afternoon two days from now. The address and info is on a data cube I’ve brought for you, along with a secure comlink address where you can contact me. I need you to secure it- sweep for bugs, counter any surveillance in place, install your own cameras or detection gear, and provide egress if we need it. Either way, I’ll need two clean vehicles that won’t set off alarms if the local police run the dataplates.” Left unsaid was that Halley would be busy in her own right, setting up a new safehouse for Loren and the rest, as well as retrieving weapons, currency, and anything else she could think of that they’d need.

  “You’d prefer I buy two hovercars, or steal and scrape the IDs?”

  “Buy.” She expected it would cost plenty, but she’d also made plenty while working on Callidor, and if cleaned out her whole stash, that was what it would take.

  “Thirty thousand,” was his price.

  “I don’t want something that will fall out of the sky in flames, you know.”

  “Forty.”

  She thought about it, decided it was a fair price for what she was asking him to accomplish, and nodded. She took the data cube she had mentioned out of her small beach bag and palmed it. Then she retrieved a credit chip, plugged it into her data screen, and accessed her on-planet bank accounts, putting forty thousand credits worth on it. Next, she put both in her palm, then handed over her data screen for Garrett to look at, which to the casual observer would look like her showing him some information on her screen. She passed the two pieces of tech into his hand as he accepted the screen, which he read for a solid minute before finishing.

  “It says here the snorkeling is amazing just a few miles down the coast,” he said. “All manner of exotic marine life, and all that.”

  “Maybe you should stay the afternoon, take in the sights,” she suggested.

  “Not really my thing.” She looked at him quizzically, so he continued. “I’ve made deals in beautiful places like this, and hell holes that people don’t even bother to name. Either way, it’s the same to me. I don’t care about the white sand beaches, or the peeling and stained wall coatings of an undercity bar; it’s just business. I didn’t ask to go there, I had to do it for work and not my own reasons. All I see is my job and the surroundings as they apply to my ability to survive. What I really want to do is go home where I can relax, by myself.”

  “Interesting. I’d have thought you were more the traveling type, what with your work, both legitimate and otherwise.”

  “Part of the job.”

  “So where do you live? For real, I mean.”

  “Now it’s finally my turn to deny you some information. Nobody knows where I live, and I need to keep it that way. You can’t stay amped up nonstop, or you’ll burn out sooner or later. I just need one place I can be myself and worry a little less about looking behind me.”

  “Well, I feel like we’ve bonded.” Halley said with a smile.

  “Yes, I’m glad we had this talk,” Garrett replied, mirroring her grin.

  “I’ll see you in two days then. Call me in the morning on the number that I gave you on that cube, and you’ll learn something new about me when we meet at the location.”

  With that, she got up and left, mind already lining up her to-do list for the next two days.

  Commander Velk was having another bad day in a succession of bad days. While he had outlined his plan for Delos to the Council and received their blessings, he was now hearing rumblings that there was talk of them not being satisfied with his efforts as of late. The business of Commander was a unique and conflicted one; he technically answered to nobody in matters directly relating to his given task, and for Velk, that task was leading the charge into this galaxy of ungrateful nonbelievers. However, the Council was also tasked with overseeing everything the Priman race did, and sometimes the duties of Commander and Council overlapped. Traditionally, everyone stayed out of each other’s way, but times were different now. The Primans were racing through the galaxy, fighting once more for what had been theirs thousands of years ago.

  During their long exile out beyond the habitable edges of the galaxy, the job of Commander was straightforward and uneventful. Now, his family was responsible for everything his race had spent all those years waiting for. There was naturally some tension. The problem was, Velk could sense some other motivations at work. He had no doubts now that there had been an effort to get Tash elevated to Representative earlier than he should have been. The next ruler shouldn’t have been part of Velk’s circle for years yet, and here he was. That took people on the council, and most likely another Representative to cobble together. In addition, even though he still didn’t know if Tash was directly involved, he had to assume that the Representative knew about these efforts.

  And now, here he was, asked (for decorum, the term was ‘asked’, but in reality, he was expected to heed the request) to appear before the Council for the second time in three days. They should have been busying themselves with other matters, not second-guessing his decisions as Commander.

  Velk entered the chambers of the Council, located in the deepest and most protected part of the largest ship in the Priman fleet. The bulk of the irreplaceable assets they had as a species were located about a half day’s travel out from Callidor towards the tip of the spiral arm, and Velk was tempted to suggest they move closer. If they expected him to lead, he couldn’t be spending half his waking hours traveling to and from appearances before them.

  The ship itself was one of the oldest in the fleet, one of the original Priman warships that had been stripped of military hardware and converted to the first of the mo
therships that was forced to take his people into exile. Over the centuries, this ship had been rebuilt and upgraded countless times, and was in remarkable shape considering its age. It also stood out to Velk as a metaphor for the part of his people’s tendencies that he wished would change; as the ship was rebuilt, it was put together exactly the same way it had been beforehand. His people sometimes mirrored that sentiment- he often felt like his people hadn’t changed or adapted, either, even with all those years in which they could have taken any direction they chose to as a species. In fact, he sometimes lamented that his people had grown more like the races they were returning to, and he had already seen a few cases of orders being questioned, looting, stealing, and outright backstabbing in order to get ahead. His people should have been beyond that, should have been using all that time beyond civilized space to better themselves not just militarily, but culturally as well.

  The chamber was large, bigger than any of the sports stadiums Velk had seen on Callidor while there. The walls arched away as they climbed, supports and beams concealed cleverly and giving the feel of a large open-air coliseum. It wasn’t all about creating an impression of power and authority, for the walls were lined with seats so crowds could gather and witness some of the more formal events that took place on the chamber floor.

  Today, the chamber was empty but for the Council members at their simple wooden table and a few others seated along the wall in chairs traditionally reserved for those called to testify or observe. The lighting and construction was designed to allow those observers to see the council floor, but their identities would remain hidden. The central table was said to be made from the trees of their original homeworld, whose name and location was forever lost. It was a finely crafted piece, large and ornate, with seating for twelve. The light colored wood was marred by the occasional streak of almost black, a signature of the trees and the insects that bored through them as they grew. The insect paths would be repaired by the tree, but the effect was always a dark swath. It symbolized perseverance over adversity; the tree could deal with destructive forces of nature, and so could the Priman people overcome any challenge.