“I was covering my tracks. Christ, Jurkken, I asked Lugrash to take care of Evans. I never thought he would do it personally.”
“I have my business to attend to, at least what is left of it. Your little plot is not my problem anymore.”
“This is your ‘problem’ as long as Grakko says it is.”
Beaten, Jurkken closed the crate and lowered his head. “What was the favor you needed?”
“Spencer Chiles is getting problematic.”
“I have a feeling that one day you may decide to get rid of me as well.”
“I’m the one who hired Chiles, I’m the one who figured out this whole fucking arrangement. Get it? Without me, without Hess, and without Chiles, your precious Forbidden Army’s gun money runs low.”
Jurkken threw his hands up in exasperation. “When will you hire your own men to do dirty work for you?”
“Never hire a human to do a krokator’s job. The number you did on Price was… impressive.”
“I am glad you approve,” Jurkken said with a frown. “Just give me a time and place and I will have some of my associates handle it.”
Perry pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to Jurkken. “His address. Chiles doesn’t get out much.”
Jurkken looked at the slip. “I am not surprised. Consider it taken care of.”
“I knew I could rely on you.”
Chapter Eighteen: The Plot Thickens
Los Angeles, Planet Terra, Sol System
General Godford ran a hand through his short beard and sighed. “Moss? Anything?”
“Yes, General,” Moss answered and shuffled through his notes. “Police reports indicate that the explosive used in the bomb attack was MV5.”
“Mining explosives?”
Moss nodded. “You’ve heard of it then. Very potent stuff. The iktathol developed it for their calcium mines. It’s illegal on pretty much every world in the League of Planets outside of the Federation.”
Godford and Gresham both glanced at Paine, who was sitting behind his desk silently considering the information before finally speaking. “So based on what Major Gresham told us about the okka needles, and now this MV5 stuff… sounds like a lot of illegal alien weapons are turning up in Los Angeles as of late.”
“There is no evidence to indicate a connection between a pair of okka needles in a corpse and the explosion that killed President Haimon,” Moss quickly interjected. “MV5 is an extremely expensive compound. A contact of mine in the Federation tells me that the black market value is nearly five thousand credits per gram.”
“How much would be needed for the explosion we were attacked by?” Godford asked.
“A hundred grams or so, which pencils out to five hundred thousand credits. My contact didn’t know of anyone who carries one hundred grams on them at a time. The idea behind MV5 is to be small and concentrated, because calcium mining requires precision.”
After a brief silence, Paine rose. “Gentlemen, I hope we are on top of the security situation. It’s what, Tuesday today? The security summit is Friday night. You have four days to make sure nobody tries to blow us up again.”
Godford shook his head. “Howard, I think we should postpone the summit by at least another week. This soon after the assassination attempt and after Emperor Urkus Ruskir was killed…”
“No,” Paine answered flatly. “This is the time to look strong. We will be there, as well as High Prod Nikkwill from the Empire and Prime Juyeawae from the Dominion. I’m not sure who the iktathol or prees are sending yet, and we probably won’t know until they arrive.”
“Me, you, and the High Prod all in one room. That is too good of a target to pass up, Howard. We really ought to reconsider,” Godford urged.
“We’re showing on our own soil that we are stronger than these terrorists. We will send them a message that the galaxy is united against them.”
“Let’s invite the Secretary General of the League of Planets while we’re at it,” Godford said mockingly. “He’ll make a great target too.”
Paine scowled. “Enough, Richard! I don’t need this right now. You’re dismissed. Although, John, I’d like for you to stay a minute.”
Godford and Moss obliged and Gresham rose out of respect, but lingered in the office as they left. Once the door was closed, Paine approached Gresham and put his hands on his shoulders. “So, John, how are you? How is your investigation going?”
“You know, I’m really not sure. I don’t know that what I’m doing has anything to do with who tried to kill you. I feel like I’m getting closer to what Vance was onto but… well, it’s not paying dividends now.”
“These things take time, John. Try passing legislation through the Commission. Sometimes important jobs are thankless.”
Gresham nodded. “Yeah, I suppose your right.” He paused. “You know, though, you could help me out…”
“How?”
“I need a search and seizure order for the Supernova database. I think somebody’s been using it to requisition weapons from various arms depots here in California. The Ventura theft Vance was looking into had the transaction logged on Supernova.”
Paine was clearly intrigued. “Interesting. To be honest, I’ve never used Supernova, it wouldn’t be appropriate…”
“And whoever is using it to steal our military’s weapons and sell them on the streets isn’t using Supernova appropriately either,” Gresham said with conviction. “We have the thief’s ID code, but we don’t have access to a database that matches names with the codes.”
“I’ll see what I can do. I can’t just hand out search and seizure orders, unfortunately. Imagine the abuses that would allow for. There’re a few judges that I’ve appointed, though, who owe me a favor. I could possibly have a search and seizure warrant ready for you by tomorrow morning, but no guarantees, John.”
“That would be great, Mr. President,” Gresham said with a broad smile. “I really appreciate it.”
Paine checked his watch. “I have to get going, I’m afraid. Let me know if you need anything else, John, I’m more than happy to help.”
Gresham thanked Paine and shook the President’s hand. He took the hyperlift back down to the bottom floor of Shoregrove Hall and was almost to the parking garage when he realized who he had to go see.
Ten minutes and an excruciating walk in the heat later, Gresham entered the luxurious suite complex on Crest Ave where Jack French kept his office. The AI asked for identification and for Gresham to leave his gun at the main desk before letting him in.
French rose from behind his desk as Gresham entered and extended a hand warmly. “Major Gresham! Or can I call you John? You’ve caught me at a great time, no appointments all afternoon. Figured you’d call first, though.”
“Sorry to drop in unannounced.” Gresham accepted French’s hand with a firm grip. “I was in the neighborhood and I remembered your offer.”
French shrugged. “I’m always happy to help. Have a seat. Drink? Coffee?”
“I’ll have coffee.”
French’s AI responded accordingly, producing a small, steaming cup. “Cream?”
“Please.”
A nozzle complied and French handed Gresham the cup. “Best automated coffee on Terra. I had a guy flown in from Africa to customize her for me.”
“Your AI is a she too?”
“Yeah, male AIs give me the creeps,” French answered. “But you’re not here to talk about coffee.”
“Well, I’ve had some changes in my life since we last spoke. I got in a shootout with Zone smugglers, I entered a home without a warrant only to find a corpse and I was interrogated by Simon Cray. Now I’ve hit a wall in my investigation and could use a fresh set of ideas.”
“You’ve had one hell of a week.” French ordered the AI to pour him a coffee as well. “Well, the good news is that I have a friend – but he’s kind of a sketchy friend, if you know what I mean. Not exactly a guy I like to be seen around in public.”
“What’s his name
?”
“Elijah Perry,” French answered and seemed surprised that Gresham didn’t recognize the name. “You don’t know of him.”
“Name doesn’t ring any bells.”
“Well, he’s a pretty big deal on Mars… in certain circles. I got my start as a legal aide in the Martian local government, so when I decided to run for elected office I wasn’t exactly a champion of the working class. I managed to get close to Mr. Perry, though. Despite his relative youth, he knew the ins and outs of the union scene in ‘Neer and other cities and got me connected to the right people. Next thing I knew, I was doing speaking engagements and fundraisers at synagogues on the Southside and at Catholic parishes in East ‘Neer and I was the frontrunner for my district’s Commission seat.”
“Sounds like a good friend to have.”
“Well, sort of… Perry makes some people uneasy because of his connections to Colin Hess. That’s how Hess became a campaign contributor of mine – Perry was on the board at Hessian at one point and his influence with the unions resulted in one of the most favorable collective labor agreements in Martian history. Eli is a real string-puller, knows how to get things done.”
No kidding. He’s probably pulling your strings too, Gresham thought. “So you think Perry would know anything about okka needles or iktathol mining explosives getting sold out of the Zone? Or why two men are dead and one is fighting for his life because of stolen guns out of the Ventura depository?”
French seemed taken aback. “Eli? I doubt it. I was thinking he could give you some leverage in tackling Cray. Eli has friends everywhere, including SIS.”
“I have two friends over there too. They’re working with me as we speak.”
“Well then, maybe I have nothing to offer. Just thought I’d bring it up, you know, since Perry’s in town on some business.”
“Oh yeah? What kind of business is he in?”
“He runs the political advocacy arm of a major union as his day job, but he invests in ET companies here in the Alliance, actually. Venture capital, public stock offerings, the whole deal. Used to work at a bank or investment firm or whatever it was.”
“Mind if I get a card or some contact info?”
French nodded and rummaged through his desk. “Yeah, I should have it somewhere… Here we are! Elijah J. Perry, Pacific Capital: Pioneer City, Mars.”
Gresham looked the card over. “I doubt I’ll need it, but thank you anyways.”
“No problem, glad I could help.” French rocked in his chair slowly and sipped his coffee. “So I’m guessing you’re going to the security summit Friday?”
“Maybe. The sentiment I get is that it’s on a need-to-attend basis only. You?”
“Well to be honest, I don’t want to go, but Colin Hess asked me to introduce him personally to prospective new clients. I figure I’d risk losing my biggest contributor if I refuse.”
“Hess will be there?”
“Yes. Hessian Engineering will probably try to market its services to foreign governments, now that the Commission wants to crack down on them.”
“How do the unions feel about you backing Hessian in the Commission? They must be wary of their man in Los Angeles cozying up to big business.”
“On the contrary! Imagine how many jobs get lost if the Alliance kneecaps one of the biggest military contractors in the galaxy. I am helping my constituents keep their jobs, and if I have to stand up for big business to do so, then so be it. It all trickles down.”
Gresham smiled. “I’m sure it does. Well, I’d best get going. Thank you for your time, Commissioner.”
“Seriously, John, don’t even mention it.”
#
Thestran Verge, Planet Mars, Sol System
Klaus Schroeder exited his portable office on the grounds of the isolated facility as he heard the whine of a transport outside. He pulled his winter coat tight and his teeth chattered as cold air and debris blew into his face by the exhaust pipes of the transport.
A curious worker approached. “Who’s that? I thought we weren’t getting visitors for a few more weeks.”
The transport touched down, a door on the side of the small craft opened and Colin Hess stepped out. The industrial magnate pushed his glasses back up his nose, wrinkled his brow and zipped up his warm leather jacket.
“Dr. Schroeder!” he called out over the noise of the transport.
Schroeder smiled from ear to ear and approached his employer in a hurry. “Herr Hess! It is good to see you!”
“You too,” Hess replied and they quickly moved into Schroeder’s cramped, tiny office. He waved to his pilot to turn off the engines and wait from the window before sitting down, his cheeks flush from the cold.
“Thank God for a job I can do inside in this kind of weather,” Schroeder chuckled. “I am surprised to see you out here so early. The first refining phase is nearly complete.”
“Good. Because you’ll be happy to know that we’re moving you to the main site once you are done with the first part of refinement. Grakko has guaranteed me that it will be up and running within a week.”
Schroeder drummed his fingers against his desk and played with a small, toy model of an atom. “Mr. Hess, I don’t know what you want me to tell you… I need more fissile material. Taking cargo ship fuel like we’ve been doing takes too long to enrich. The current deadline is a little unmanageable.”
“With what I’m paying you, you little Prussian shit, I expect some goddamn results…” Hess growled, thinning his eyes for effect.
“I realize this, Herr Hess, but I simply don’t have what I asked for. You tell me I was going to have a state-of-the-art enrichment facility here on Mars and I get a converted machine gun factory. I need better cooling vats, modern centrifuges, and I need something stronger than ship fuel! I need something raw and unstable straight out of the ground that I can have enriched in a few weeks. I won’t have ready material, especially working from here, for at least another two months, and then the time it would take to assemble…”
“Do you or do you not have anything ready for me?”
Schroeder threw up his hands in exasperation. “You are a frustrating employer, Herr Hess, but you pay the bills. Come, I’ll show you what I have for you!”
They braved the elements beyond the office once more and walked briskly across a wide-open stretch of Mars’ iron-ore laced dirt. Hess felt the cold, familiar crunch of the reddish soil under his feet as they hurried into a large, concrete building.
Schroeder spoke quickly to a pair of scientists in his native Prussian tongue and then glanced back at Hess. “You asked me for something useful that you can use by Friday. Well, I have something you will love.”
“Oh?”
The scientist nodded excitedly. “Ja, Herr Hess, I do. Refining the ship fuel and the early enrichment process has left us with some spare waste. Very high-yield waste.”
Hess paused and smiled. “Keep going.”
“The waste from the reactor is very strong. You pack it around some explosives and it will have a massive contamination radius.”
“Five miles or so?”
“Ja! Just imagine it, Herr Hess. Pandemonium and confusion, all that fallout floating in the air. This is about as potent as you can get without proper enrichment.”
Hess smiled as Schroeder pulled out a small silver box with a radiation label stamped on the top. “You spoil me, Doctor, you really do.”
#
Soon thereafter, Hess’s transport cleared the atmosphere of Mars and arrived in orbit. The ship’s pilot activated the small craft’s intercom. “Mr. Hess, we’ll be docking with the Persephone in about ten minutes.”
“Thank you, Sam,” Hess replied and turned the intercom off. He stared out the window at the planet shrinking away below. The blue-green world reflected the distant sun and its lone sea sparkled in the dim light through the glow of the atmosphere.
With Mars now receding away behind the ship, a silvery object just within its orbit grew closer and
closer. Hess’s private star yacht, the Persephone, was a long, thin cruiser with three sublight engines and was retrofitted to park in a planetary orbit without the need of a rig thanks to a powerful onboard magnet.
The transport slid into its bay on the Persephone’s starboard side and the docking magnets hummed to life. Hess detached his safety harness and floated through the cramped cabin towards the airlock door. The pilot joined Hess in the airlock as the transport’s doors closed behind them, and a second door opened into the Persephone herself. Hess propelled himself up through a passageway into the cruiser’s main module.
The Persephone was richly decorated with a variety of artwork, all of which was magnetically locked to the walls. The central module of the cruiser contained a dining room where Hess had struck numerous deals, and sleeping quarters for Hess and his crew. There was even an exercise chamber at the very back end of the ship, just above the engines, housing gym machines and a tennis court.
Hess found his way to a communications console near the front of the module and strapped himself into a chair in front of three large screens. He turned them all on as the ship’s engines hummed to life.
“We will be departing for Terra in thirty minutes, Mr. Hess. Engaging gravity now.”
The ship’s mighty onboard magnets hummed to life and the artificial gravity field turned on, righting the ship and pulling Hess firmly into his seat. He smiled and unbuckled the top of his harness, but left the belt across his lap on.
One of the screens flashed bright red and he accepted the incoming message. Perry’s face filled the screen.
“Hello, Eli,” Hess grimaced. He personally harbored a deep distaste for Perry, but the man was useful.
“Colin, it’s good to see you,” Perry said with a coy smile. “How are things on Mars?”
“Same as usual. You caught me just as I came aboard, Eli. If you’ve gone to all this trouble it must be urgent…”
“It is. It’s time to tie off the last loose ends. I spoke to Jurkken and he’s going to take care of Spencer Chiles. We need to make sure the money is all hidden.”