Aneka Jansen 6: The Lowest Depths of Shame (15 page)

‘Winter noticed that,’ Justine said. ‘She’s been trying to find out what happened, but so far the data is inconclusive.’

‘It still sounds like someone is paving the way for some large-scale paranoia,’ Aneka said, frowning. ‘Remove potential sources of alternate views and then bring in the shock story.’

‘You know,’ Janna said, musing over her toast, ‘if these people are giving Winter the run-around, they have to be
very
good.’

‘They are,’ Justine supplied, ‘but they’re going to slip up sooner or later.’

‘And then we’ll send Aneka to kick their butts,’ Sharissa said, grinning.

‘Thanks,’ Aneka replied. ‘I’ll go clean my guns.’

High Yorkbridge, 22.10.530 FSC.

Stephen Teldarian felt out of place in the gleaming mock-stone environment of the Gobari Club. He had been there before, invited by some Admiralty type who was a member, but he felt as though he was standing in something which should have died a thousand years ago.

There were no female members. There was no rule prohibiting them, which would have been both illegal and have resulted in social censure for the members, but no woman had ever joined successfully, and no one questioned that. The staff in the gaming rooms were all male as well, and they dressed in smart shirts and slacks. Female staff attended the drawing rooms, dressed in short skirts and low-cut tops. There was a distinct air of misogyny about the Gobari Club, and, despite Teldarian’s behaviour around beautiful women, he did not consider himself to be a misogynist.

It was a man who led him up to one of the meeting lounges on the second floor, stepping aside to allow him in and closing up behind him. Teldarian did not hear a lock engage, but it felt like he was being sealed in.

‘Stephen, glad you could make it. Have a seat.’ The speaker was Jonus Quaid, a Rear Admiral Teldarian had done a fair amount of work for. He headed up the research and development section in the Navy and had little in the way of qualifications to do so aside from passing basic mathematics.

‘I wasn’t given a lot of choice,’ Teldarian replied. ‘The message said urgent and it came with two Marines as escort.’

‘It is urgent,’ Quaid replied. ‘Have a seat. Drink?’

Teldarian sat down, noting the other man in the room: Anderson Dreyman. ‘No, thank you. What was it you wanted? Some sort of metallurgical problem?’

‘Hmm?’ Quaid glanced at Dreyman. ‘Oh! No, Mister Dreyman is here as an interested party, that’s all. We have managed to obtain one of the frigates the Herosians built from Xinti technology. We need you to go to Corax and consult on the research project.’

Teldarian frowned. ‘I thought I made myself clear during our previous discussions, Rear Admiral. My company builds ships for the Navy, yes. I design many of them, yes. I do not have to
like
wars of revenge because of that and I won’t be a part of this.’

Quaid nodded, picking up a tablet from the table beside his chair. ‘Yes, you were quite vocal on that subject. Very polite, but quite firm. We believe, however, that you will change your position.’ He handed Teldarian the tablet.

There was a picture being displayed. It was a rather lopsided photograph taken in what looked like a starship, of a sleep pod. Inside the pod, naked and clearly asleep, was his sister.

‘What…?’ Teldarian began.

‘She’s quite safe,’ Quaid interrupted. ‘And she will stay that way so long as you do as we ask. We need their cloaking technology and any other Xinti-derived tech you can uncover. We need a functional and
useful
second-generation warp drive. Provide us with this in a ship we can use against the Herosians, and your sister will be returned to you in full health. She went through so much when she was younger. It would be such a shame if she had to go through anything like that again.’

Teldarian’s eyes flicked to Dreyman; he was looking uncomfortable, which meant he was not entirely without morals. The idea of smashing the tablet into Quaid’s face and then beating him to death with it flared through the engineer’s mind, and died at the sight of the photograph on the screen.

‘When do I start?’ Teldarian growled.

Tristar Township, 24.10.530 FSC.

News was breaking on the main channels now. The story was that a Herosian sneak attack had resulted in several fatalities on the resort world of Odanari. There was film of burning buildings in some sort of high-end hotel, but the reports indicated that a number of people had been killed on some of the private islands in the region.

Ella watched with a deep frown on her face. ‘The region they’re talking about is away from Teldarian’s island,’ she said during a break in the reporting.

‘The other side of the planet,’ Aneka replied. ‘I looked too.’

‘Strangely, however,’ Winter commented as she entered the room, ‘Stephen Teldarian was taken to Corax two days ago and has not returned. He has been somewhat vocal in a few meetings about the war, suggesting that it should be brought to a conclusion.’

‘Funny, you’d think he’d want the Navy demanding more ships.’

‘More of his income derives from commercial shipping than naval contracts. Businesses rarely thrive in a war environment, especially an uncertain one like this. However, I believe he genuinely doesn’t see a need for further conflict.’

‘So what’s he doing on Corax?’ Ella asked.

‘The Navy moved their captured Gathor-class there after the Old Earth fleet left.’

‘Okay, but if he didn’t want to be involved, what changed?’

Winter gave them a rather unhappy smile. ‘That is a good question. Why don’t we get Aneka to ask him?’

‘You want me to sneak into the primary military facility in the Joval system,’ Aneka said, ‘and talk to a man who is likely under heavy guard?’

‘That… about covers it.’

‘Right…’ Aneka gave a sigh. ‘This is going to need a bit of planning.’

Gwy, 26.10.530 FSC.

‘You’re sure about this?’ Ella asked, again.

Aneka stood at the airlock door, checking one of her pistols. ‘The plan’s sound,’ she said. ‘We’ve identified a weak spot in their security and Winter has obtained all the access codes. My transponder will identify me as a Navy lieutenant who fits my description and has sky-high security clearance. I can’t use the stealth shielding all the time because it uses too much power. Gwy will be monitoring communications. If I need to bug out in a hurry, you can be there faster than I’ll be able to make it to the surface. Yes, I’m sure.’

‘It’s a hundred and fifty below out there.’

‘And I’m now basically immune to the cold. I need to do this, you know I can, quit worrying.’ Aneka slipped her gun into a backpack, sealed it shut, and slung it onto her back. ‘Gwy, open the airlock.’ She leaned over and kissed Ella, letting it linger for a little longer than was necessary, and then turned to leave.

Corax was a moon, but it was large enough that it actually had an atmosphere, if a thin one. That was basically nitrogen and carbon dioxide, except that the air temperature was well below the point where the latter component turned solid and the result was rather pretty. What little light there was refracted off the crystals of dry ice which covered every rock making colourful, really quite beautiful, patterns in Aneka’s multi-spectral vision.

‘Nine hundred metres to the surface hatch,’ Al commented. ‘Perhaps we could look at the sights later?’

‘Nothing much else to do while we walk,’ Aneka replied and set off across the rocky surface.

Corax.

The weak point in the security at Corax was the civilian section. The moon hosted various commercial and research facilities, though many of them had been denuded of personnel by the Navy for ‘security’ reasons. That actually just made things easier since there were fewer people to see her emerge from a corridor which led out to a minor surface exit used for maintenance of the surface sensor arrays.

‘I have connected to the local network,’ Al said as soon as they were inside the maze-like Commercial Station. ‘Winter’s access codes appear to be working perfectly.’

A map appeared in-vision showing the entire surface, or subsurface, structure. They had entered one of the domed areas and Aneka recognised it more or less immediately, just before she rounded a corner to see Feathers across the plaza. It was open and looked busy; at least some of the Navy’s people were getting shore leave, and it seemed that the Navy viewed keeping their troops happy as something they could tolerate under the new security regime.

‘The Gathor seems to be situated here,’ Al said, highlighting an area on the far side of the spaceport on the map. ‘I suggest that might be a good place to look for Teldarian.’

‘I think that’s a good idea,’ Aneka replied, shifting her trajectory a little, but keeping up the same, confident stride. Half of the deception required for infiltration like this was
looking
like you belonged there.

There were definitely fewer people about, and far more of them were in the same blue shipsuits as Aneka. She moved smoothly through the foot traffic, guided by her map, and no one questioned her because she clearly knew where she was going and she was in a hurry to get there. The black wig she was wearing likely avoided any problems she might have had with recognition. Everyone knew that Aneka Jansen had white hair, and the bangs around her cheeks changed the shape of her face enough to add to the effect.

The first problem came when she was through the main station and trying to get across to the other side of the spaceport. There were guards on the exit and one of them was looking at her more closely than she would have liked as her ident came up on their display screen.

‘Do I know you?’ the man asked, frowning. The frown came with a slightly lopsided half-grin, however. Aneka went for that.

‘I don’t think… No, wait… Feathers, last year. You were a bit drunk and making passes at one of the dancers. Didn’t think you’d noticed me.’

‘Huh, yeah… Well, I’ve got a good memory for… faces.’ He was looking at her breasts when he said it.

‘We just received his personal ident code,’ Al said, sounding amused.

‘Give him the fake one back,’ Aneka replied, and ran her tongue over her lips.

‘Maybe see you in there again,’ the Marine said, his grin turning into a smile.

‘Maybe.’ She walked past him and his fellow guard and slipped into the spaceport beyond. ‘Jenlay can always be counted on to think with their genitals,’ she commented silently.

‘A happy trait under the circumstances,’ Al replied.

The spaceport on Corax was not large and was not designed for ships the size of the frigate. Whatever facility they were using had to have been constructed specifically for the job, and probably in something of a hurry, and access to it seemed to be limited, largely because there was only a single tunnel in and out. It, too, was guarded, but the man and woman standing there appeared to be mainly in position to deflect lost spacers.

‘Lieutenant… Church,’ the woman said. ‘This area’s restricted…’

Aneka patted her bag. ‘Secure courier. I don’t think they’re secret, but some engineering guy has to have them yesterday.’

‘Right, that’s engineers for you. This lot are worse than most.’ She stepped aside, apparently happy with the excuse and Aneka’s fake credentials.

‘Is this too easy?’ Aneka asked as she started down the hundred metres of corridor to the hangar bay at the end.

‘Yes, but that is primarily because the people here do not believe anyone could have infiltrated their base. If you are inside it, you must be
supposed
to be inside it.’

‘Huh. Sometimes I despair. Any luck in finding Stephen?’

‘I am working through the internal security feeds now… Yes, location marked.’ A window opened in Aneka’s vision field showing the view from a security camera. Teldarian was there, sitting at a desk in what looked like an office. He appeared to be alone. ‘I’m recording a loop now,’ Al added.

Aneka nodded absently, but there was no one around to see it, thankfully. Another few seconds and she was stepping through a set of doors into an airlock which did not need to cycle air before opening onto a huge room which had been cut into the rock. The rough edges suggested it had mostly been blasted out and then they had placed a dome over the top. The centre of it was occupied by the partially disembowelled, rather ugly form of a Gathor-class frigate. Large sections of the forward hull had been dismantled to give access to the gamma-ray focussing apparatus. The lower mid-section had been cut open, probably to reveal the cloaking system. Off to one side, hull sections were being examined by a team of men in white shipsuits.

Walking around to the left, Aneka found a doorway at the back of the cavern, cut into the rock. That led to a stairwell which let her go up a floor and onto a somewhat better-appointed corridor. It looked like someone had made a bit of an effort here, lining the walls with sheet metal. That said, the heavy trunking running along the ceiling was open in several places, and the metal had paint on it which suggested recycling.

She found the office Teldarian was apparently in after a few seconds and pushed at the handle. Manual sliding doors, they really
had
been in a hurry.

‘Locked,’ she commented.

‘Now it’s not, and I’m looping the camera.’

Aneka slid open the door, stepped through, and pushed it closed behind her. ‘It occurs that a man under constant watch may not be here entirely of his own volition.’

‘Agreed,’ Al replied, ‘but now you can ask him.’

When she turned around Teldarian was looking at her with an irritated expression on his face. ‘Yes?’ he asked. ‘What do you want?’

Aneka lifted an eyebrow. ‘Stephen, we’ve fucked. And I thought I was more memorable than that.’

Annoyance turned into a confused frown, and then his eyes widened. ‘What are you…?’

‘I’m here,’ she said, ‘to ask you what you’re doing here. Our intel says you’re against this and here you are helping these idiots.’ His eyes flicked to the camera in the corner of the room. ‘It’s looped,’ she told him. ‘We’re safe for fifteen minutes or so. After that they might notice.’