Ships of Valor 1: Persona Non Grata (16 page)

General Campbell would have been proud of us. We had successfully infiltrated Terra. We believed we had identified the organization responsible for the political issues and
Heart
had a plausible model for why. What we needed was proof to confirm it. At our disposal was one of the best computers in existence. Of course, he was in the middle of the ocean, hiding from said corporation that had already tried to kill us. But just because he would have been proud didn’t mean we couldn’t do better. There was the rub.

The easy route would have been to bolt back to Luna and report our findings thus far. But the easy out wouldn’t have been the hard right. What we had thus far only gave us a piece of the picture. It presented problems, not solutions. As long as
Heart
and I could still whittle away at the questions, we needed to continue doing so.

My hotel’s wall-screen showed the current locations of each known GSI employee. Our gag resulted in new encryption protocols, but we could still track people’s movements. I didn’t want to overplay our hand but I also didn’t want to sit doing nothing. By tracking the comm units to home addresses, we were able to put quite a few names with IDs. This, in turn, filled out our company structure, making our puzzle look a lot more like a picture.

Everything came back to the handhelds. If we could get ahold of one or better yet create a clone, we could open a backdoor into GSI. The risk with simply stealing one was the company would change their encryption again. We needed to gain legitimate appearing access. A lower level unit would be easiest, and likely wouldn’t cause a security sweep, but it also wouldn’t get us the entry we wanted. So yet again balance was a concern.

My plan was to steal a comm unit of an upper-level employee, but in such a way they didn’t realize it was gone. I wanted to substitute a real unit and then destroy a fake unit in front our mark’s eyes so they didn’t report it missing. They needed to simply replace it instead. The trick would be making it appear accidental and genuine.

As I’ve said, the key to a good ambush is simplicity. The more complex, the more chances for things to go wrong. Taking someone out is easy. All that requires is patience. A failed attempt doesn’t prevent a future attack. Keeping someone in the game is significantly harder. The first priority is choosing the correct person. The second is that they cannot know there was an attempt at all.

I knew the theory from all the reading back at Tycho but this was delving deep into practical application areas neither
Heart
nor I had real experience with. I was stuck and couldn’t figure out the next step. Actually, knew the next move, but not the move after that.

Despite being a center for international business for centuries, I still stood out in Hong Kong. I’m a big guy by Asian standards. Back in Auckland, my appearance wasn’t nearly as obvious mainly because I didn’t tower over the locals by an average of twenty centimeters. In Hong Kong, my size wasn’t something that could easily be hidden by a hat or creative clothing.

“Ari, I am not sure how to approach this issue. Unlike myself, you cannot transfer your presence to another shell to accomplish a specific task and this one is better suited to you than me. If only we had Robert here.” I stopped him as the realization hit me. I explained we didn’t need Robert. We didn’t even need me or
Heart
. We had been so wrapped up on what we had; we had forgotten we were inside the box. “I do not understand. If we cannot trust existing communications, how do we acquire more assistance?”

I grabbed my dampers, jacket, gave Em a quick scratch between the ears, and slid out hotel door. The beauty of being in a city was I didn’t have to do dirty work. We could outsource the work. We needed to find someone reliable. I explained this to
Heart
on the way down the elevator. “I think I understand where you are going with this, but does not this create a lot of risk?” The farther down the yellow-bricked road we got the more this mission became about balancing risk. This was no different. Our best resources were back on Luna, but that didn’t mean we didn’t have good resources in Hong Kong.

After I had pinned on my first stripe one of my sergeants had taught me having the best wasn’t needed because we only needed good enough. Sure overkill was great, but most of the time the best was a waste. Kind of like my dampers. Until I had a reason to have a good set, all those extra capabilities were almost worthless. Over the last couple of months, I had become so used to getting by having unlimited resources I forgot how to get by on scrounging off the land.

Heart
and I had become overly cautious. For the most part, I had stayed tucked away in the hotel venturing out only for food, and only long enough to purchase and set up the repeaters for the previous mission. Our thought process was out of sight, out of mind but in a city the size of Hong Kong that strategy wasn’t necessary. Who looks for a single ant in an anthill?

There are many ways of hiding. The easiest is to find a place of hunkering down and not be seen. We’d done that with
Heart
in Kermadec Trench while Em and I enjoyed room service on his credits. It’s a great method but doesn’t accomplish anything. The purloined letter method is almost as good. Take something at shove it in plain sight so folks ignore it. After passing a couple of times, it’s always been there so they don’t even question its presence anymore. The one I was most familiar with was to act like you’re supposed to be there. I don’t know if it’s only me or all humans are wired this way, but we generally don’t like confrontation. We don’t want to start arguments or fights. We’ll actually spend more effort avoiding one than one would take. Back in Auckland, I was able to pretend to be a delivery driver simply because no one questioned me. I looked the part, therefore, I must be one.

I had used that same idea to acquire the repeaters from a store in Hong Kong as well as most of the other goods we were using. I was able to prey upon the subconscious of those around me. If we could do it with gear, why couldn’t we do it with people? I explained my idea to
Heart
who responded, “There is the matter of trust. Who can we trust on this endeavor?”

If I were to map my life into a pie chart the bulk would be on ship, the wilderness, and in bars. Only a small sliver would show up anywhere else, and I’d bet good money it was on the way between those three places.

I don’t want to imply I’m some kind of lush. I’m not. I like booze for the taste, but I got getting drunk out of my system long ago. Bars fill my social niche. I’m not big on crowds, but for whatever reason bars don’t trigger my issues in the same way so they allow me to stay engaged and keep from becoming a hermit. The nice part about them is they exist everywhere. Everywhere I’ve ever been at least. Not every establishment has alcohol, or whatever the local intoxicant is, but humans have a habit of making meeting places and I might as well call them bars. Call a duck a duck and all that. White Caps is a bar, Spacelanes is a bar, and the place I was heading to in Hong Kong was a bar.

Although Legion wasn’t technically allowed on Terra, that restriction didn’t mean there weren’t any of us running about. An embargo is only as good as the customs agents. I shared my thought process with
Heart
that maybe we’d be able to find other folks like myself, but on the other side of the border.
“Ari, you were correct, the conventions did not specify deportation of former Legionnaires but I am not sure how this new information will help us. There is no master database for me to access linking membership.” I asked him where he would find ships if he didn’t have a database. “I would start at the spaceport.” I could almost hear an audible gear click before “Oh. You believe there will be former comrades close to the installation.” Bingo.

Everyone joins for his or her own reasons. There are as many reasons as there are Legionnaires or Imperials or Mariners or whatever flavor of spacer exists but there was always a constant from folks who got out. The thing veterans missed the most was the people. Some sort of cultural bit. After spending so long in, we were foreigners in our own land. We no longer belonged from where we came from, so we hovered along the outskirts of places close those to the ones we just left.

Looking back, my transition had been good. Insanely complex, but good. If not for Lysha and
Heart,
it would have been rough. It’s hard to change gears without a support structure. Without family, and they were my new family. I was getting ready to dive back into my old world. To visit extended family.

You can never really go home again, but you can visit. I was trying to explain all of this to
Heart
as the cab dropped me at the front gate of the Cadre Club. There’s not a lot of green in Hong Kong, but I’d guess ninety percent of the grass was on Cadre’s lawn. I could see it peeking out through the front gate as I approached. I wanted to stop and stare but I could hear the guard in the booth and I’d been that guy before so I walked up. He gave me a quick glance, seeing I obviously wasn’t a local, then rattled off in Standard, “How can I help you, Sir?”

I wasn’t in a position to flash idents, so I told him Schmiddy sent me by way of the
Rope
and asked if there was any way I could get a day pass. His eyes flashed when I mentioned Schmiddy and again at the
Europe
. “Ah, I was on the
Khan
with the
Freak
. When’d you get back?” He started pulling down a lanyard and plugging in my info. Each of the big ships has nicknames because it’s way too easy to call them by their real names. The
Europe
, my old ship is the
Rope
. The
Freak
is the
Africa
. There’s also the
Antarctica
,
Australia
,
North America
, and
South America
which go by
Ant
,
Ozzie
,
Merica
, and the
Ham
. The only one without a nickname is the
Asia
because it’s hard to shorten that. We talked shop for a few minutes then he let me in through the small door.

The Cadre Club is more of an estate than a bar. If White Caps had open space, I think it would probably look a lot like Cadre. It was an old school country club, catering to military types. I knew Schmiddy was a member, but he had never told me how he became one. Dropping his name at the front gate wasn’t strictly kosher, but as long as I didn’t make a fool of myself it shouldn’t be an issue. The nice part about of buddies is the ability to leverage help when needed. He’d have the same resource if he ever needed it.

My walk up was leisurely. I couldn’t help it. The place had a natural calm that seeped into the bones as I made my way from the gate up the path towards the front entry. “We are going to find your associates here?”
Heart
sounded shocked, and honestly, I couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t like most military was upper class. This place screamed top one percent. Despite my recent forays into society with Lysha, I was not a member of the elite.

I’m from the middle of nowhere and although my folks were far from rich, I had a comfortable childhood. I started working as soon as I was able. First with odd jobs, and then with more steady stuff while I was going through school. As soon as I was eighteen, all those savings disappeared with a one-way ticket to LC. I’ve never had debt, though. Never had a chance to get it. Moreover, because the Legion covered most of my bills, my accounts grew over time. If I was smart, I could live well. Not Cadre well, but I could choose my own path.

It so happened I was woefully underdressed for the current path, even by the casual standards I saw around me. Had I given half a thought I would have dressed the part, but I had bolted out the hotel when inspiration hit. For the most part, spacer bars are like normal bars. Spacelanes is middle of the spectrum. White Caps is high end, but it’s old and well established. The Cadre Club was even higher end than White Caps, catering to the officer crowd more than the rank and file like me. Not as though I would be unwelcome. Exactly the opposite. The staff, like the guy at the front gate, would be extremely pleasant, but the club wasn’t an environment I was used to. I was more accustomed to the deeper end of the rainbow.

If I could have chosen a different bar, I probably would have, but Hong Kong had the Cadre Club, so that’s where I went. I’m sure there are other spacer bars in the area, but none as big, and none as well known. Had I ended up in Tokyo, Edoten would have been my first choice, but Nero’s would have been a close second. That’s not to say there weren’t advantages, being handed an orange juice almost as soon as I entered was the first.

I made my way to the concierge counter and waited for a gentlemen dressed for tennis to finish up with a tropical suited lady with the telltale golden keys and a maroon ascot. “Ari, who are we going to see?” Before I could sub-vocalize an answer, she waved me forward with a huge smile and asked how she could help. I let her know I was looking for the chapel.

The directions she gave were simple to follow, but it still took a good ten minutes to reach the chapel. I got the impression it was for weddings more than actual services. I’ve never been big on attending church as my folks took an Einsteinian view on religion. All that life energy has to go somewhere, but they never exactly said where. Having studied physics and chemistry since then, I know the math a little better now, but I like the comfort of faith, and when it boils down to it ideas are a kind of energy and life. Maybe spreading those is a bit of immortality.

“But why are we here?” I hadn’t meant to ignore
Heart’s
question earlier, but I got caught up in the setting. If looking for someone to trust, go to family, bartender, or a priest. I let him know I was hoping to leverage all three by visiting a chaplain.