In Earth's Service (Mapped Space Book 2) Read online

  A superior smile appeared on his plump lips. “Paying me?” He chuckled incredulously. “They’re not paying me anything. I’m paying one Mataron scientist a king’s ransom to provide technical assistance and paying even more to the Brotherhood for a few alien-tech generators. If the Matarons discovered one of their people was working for a human, they’d kill him – and me!”

  In a flash I realized Ransford, who thought he was pulling all the strings, had been tricked by the Matarons! “You don’t know!”

  “Know what?” he asked as a flicker of confusion appeared on his face.

  “The snakeheads are providing the energy siphons to the Brotherhood. Inok a’Rtor is their agent. They’ve been playing you from the start!”

  Manning Thurlow Ransford III’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not possible.”

  “How’d you find out about the Hrane technology? Whose idea was it to use a wormhole to bypass the Solar System’s defenses? Who has the most to gain if mankind tears itself apart?”

  His expression hardened as he reconstructed events in his mind. “Inok a’Rtor offered me a way to speed up interstellar trade. How we are using that equipment was my idea.”

  “The snakeheads have the technology to listen in on any conversation you have. They knew you were looking for a way to break Earth Navy’s power and they gave you exactly what you wanted. They used your greed for their own ends!”

  “Why would they do that?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Because the Tau Cetins will never let the Matarons attack us, but the Forum will sanction mankind if we try to destroy ourselves.”

  He stared at me with growing annoyance. “Who are you?”

  “Sirius Kade.”

  His eyes widened in surprise. “The same Sirius Kade who was involved in the disappearance of the Soberano?”

  There was only one way he could know about the Soberano, if he was the man responsible for sending her to the edges of Mapped Space a year ago. I realized he wasn’t simply the chairman of a gang of traitors, he was the Chairman, head of the Consortium, the shadowy organization that used money as a weapon, that had the power to exploit planetary economies and control world governments. And worse, unbeknown to Manning Thurlow Ransford III, the Matarons had been pulling his strings since well before the Soberano incident.

  “What did happen to the Soberano?” he asked.

  “Ask the Matarons. I’m sure they’re listening!” The details of her destruction were classified. She’d been listed as overdue and her crew lost for reasons unknown. The truth was, I destroyed her.

  “A pity. Her Captain was quite useful to me. I suppose he’s dead?” He took my lack of an answer as an affirmative. “Hmm. I took a hefty loss on that deal.”

  “Not as big a loss as you’re going to take on this one!”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. Even if the Matarons are getting what they want, so am I.”

  “You already have everything,” I said. “Why risk it all by starting a war?”

  “It’s not about what I have, but what I don’t have,” he said simply. “More is always preferable to less.” He pinched one of his rolls of fat absently as if his obesity was proof of his insatiable appetite.

  “Attacking Earth Navy for the Matarons will make you the most hunted man in the galaxy, in all of human history.”

  He smiled coldly. “My dear, Sirius, I’m not attacking anyone. I’m merely enjoying a working vacation like thousands of other law abiding people, aboard this magnificent ship, which I own by the way.” His expression hardened. “I also have an army of lawyers on a hundred planets ready to challenge any spurious accusations you might make against me.”

  “Your lawyers won’t save you. Picking a fight with Earth Navy is only going to end one way.”

  “Earth and its fascist navy are an enormous obstacle to limitless free market opportunities. The Core Worlds are tired of Earth’s interference every time some bureaucrat whispers Access Treaty. You’re right. This is going to end one way, the only way it can, with an end to Earth’s meddling in our affairs!”

  “The Forum won’t deal with us separately,” I said. “Every species has one voice, one sole responsibility. It’s a condition of entry.”

  “There’s one thing I’ve learnt over the years, everything is negotiable. Everyone has a price. The Galactic Forum is no different.” There was a smug confidence in his words that was entirely misguided. He was projecting his own self interest onto the Forum, derailing everything mankind had been working for since the Embargo had ended four and half centuries ago.

  “If they won’t negotiate with Earth Council, they certainly won’t deal with you.” Why should they? We had nothing to offer, while they had all the power and millions of years of peaceful coexistence behind them.

  “They’ve been beating us over the head with that damned Treaty of theirs for twenty five hundred years,” he snapped. “I think it’s time we started using it against them. The Fourth Principle allows every civilization to develop in its own way. Well, this is our way! The Forum will have to sit on the sidelines and wait until we sort out our own affairs and then they will deal with whoever is left in charge.” He gave me a knowing look. “I should know, my lawyers have gone over every line in the Treaty and its interminable guidelines, precedents, sub clauses and exemplars. We may not have the right to attack any other species, but we sure as hell can make war upon ourselves – as bloody and as brutal as we like. That is our right!”

  “You do this and they’ll see us as ungovernable primitives, incapable of cooperating with ourselves, let alone other civilizations. They’ll think we’re not ready.”

  “We’ll convince them otherwise,” he said confidently. “The Core Worlds will continue to honor the Access Treaty, but without Earth and its big stick looking over our shoulders!”

  “You’ve got six Core Systems. You don’t speak for them all.”

  “I don’t need to. Once they see the Galilean Bases in ruins and a third of Earth’s fleet destroyed, they’ll waver, and a fractured humanity will be ripe for exploitation by the Consortium.”

  “In partnership with the Brotherhood?”

  “I wouldn’t call it a partnership, more a marriage of convenience, but that’s your doing, not mine.”

  “My doing?”

  “After the Soberano was lost, the navy cracked down on our ship building operations. Their constant surprise inspections made it impossible for us to arm our ships. Considering your involvement in the Soberano’s disappearance, you bear the responsibility of forcing us to find other solutions, like dealing with the Brotherhood.”

  “Even if you turn the Core Systems against Earth, they can’t win.” Maybe in another ten thousand years when more people lived outside the Solar System than in, but not now, not with three quarters of mankind still living within sight of Sol.

  He rubbed his chins amused. “The Consortium wins no matter what happens. We’ll sell weapons and ships and everything else to both sides. Nothing drives up demand like a good war.”

  He was delusional about how the Forum, the Tau Cetins and our neighbors would view us if we tore ourselves apart in another futile human civil war. No one would accept a collection of warring tribes into a pan-galactic community of peaceful civilizations. No wonder the Matarons were helping this maniac. He was doing their dirty work for them.

  “You’re guilty of high treason,” I said, realizing this had gone beyond a mere interrogation. It was now a summary court and I was judge, jury and executioner.

  “I have one alien technical advisor you can’t link me to and a commercial arrangement with the Brotherhood you can never prove. That’s not treason, Sirius, that’s business.”

  “You’re working for the Matarons, whether you know it or not.”

  “They’re no better or worse than us,” Ransford said dismissively. “They’re certainly not my competitors.”

  “There’s only one punishment for traitors,” I said, my mind made up. Deep cover agents
weren’t assassins or executioners, but in Ransford’s case I’d have to make an exception.

  The Chairman’s eyes widened in fear as he realized the change in me. I took a step toward him, then his flabby hand darted to the controls at his fingertips. His pressure chair tilted back and skimmed to the bedroom as his exoskeletons stepped from their recharging stations and turned as one to face me. The black exoskeleton nearby swung its pole-like arm at me, forcing me to retreat as the Chairman’s pressure chair came to a halt inside the bedroom doorway.

  “You didn’t think I’d leave my safety in the hands of just one young woman, did you?” Ransford said as a smile appeared on his lips. “Goodbye Sirius. Try not to make a mess, my cleaning bill is already excessive.”

  The bedroom doors slid shut, sealing Ransford inside, then the black exoskeleton swung at me again, forcing me to duck under its arm. It struck the wall with a thunderous crash, leaving an imprint in the metal surface and convincing me it would crush my head like an egg if it landed a blow. Behind it, nine more polysteel automatons marched toward me like slow motion robots. They were articulated frameworks walking on jointed foot plates, lacking hands and heads and laced with motion sensors to detect the wearer’s smallest movements. Without optics, they relied on room sensors to track my movements and a remote artificial intelligence to direct their attacks – all part of Ransford’s personal security system.

  I glanced at the sealed bedroom doors, certain the Chairman had escaped for now. “Another day,” I declared, retreating toward the entertainment area followed by the mindless exoskeletons. They were built to carry the Chairman’s enormous weight, not for speed, allowing me to easily outrun them.

  At the main entrance, I spoke urgently to the door panel. “Open!”

  “You have remained in the guest’s quarters for seven minutes longer than required to complete your assigned task,” the cybernetic doorman replied. “Three performance decrements have been added to your efficiency profile. Your performance rating is now ninety point four.”

  Behind me, the exoskeletons began bunching up as they followed the same simple pathing logic toward me.

  “Open the damn door before I break it down!” I yelled as the robotic murder squad closed in on my position.

  “Abuse of cybernetic service entities is a breach of the employee code of conduct,” the door panel informed me. “A formal reprimand has been added to your personal record. You are required to attend two hours of behavioral improvement counseling prior to your next performance review.”

  The black exoskeleton swung an arm at me, forcing me to darted away as its blow smashed the door panel, then all ten exoskeletons jostled each other as they tried to catch me.

  I jumped onto the bar to escape, then circled around the lounge setting, activating my communicator. “Jase, can you hear me?”

  The hissing static of a jamming field filled my ears. It might have prevented the Chairman’s competitors from eavesdropping on his business, but Mataron spy-tech would have cut right through it.

  I pocketed my communicator as the exoskeletons followed me around the lounge chairs. The last machine, painted bright red, was now the closest. It led the pack after me as I ran to Ransford’s desk hoping to use its commlink, but quickly discovered it required a bioscan to activate.

  The red exoskeleton swung at me, shattering several of the fragile datapanes, forcing me to retreat toward the Tahitian holographic wall. A bright yellow exoskeleton moved to cut me off as I ran through photonic palm trees. It tried jabbing me, but I dodged, leaping clear as the blow punched a hole through the crystalline wall, cracking the idyllic blue sky. White light flooded through from the other side, breaking the illusion as I raced back to the lounge suite and waited for the headless machines to come after me. They gave chase immediately, bunching up as I retreated behind the lounge chairs, then when the holographic beach was clear, I charged back toward the sea and hurled myself at the crystalline wall shoulder first. It shattered in a shower of supersiliconized shards, then I crashed through a second holowall on the other side and fell into the neighboring suite.

  Surprised female screams filled the air as I rolled through a dense jungle, coming to rest in front of a white leopard which growled menacingly at me. I swept my hand through its holographic face, confirming it was an illusion, then jumped to my feet, watched by a room full of immaculately dressed socialites sipping cocktails, mostly older men and younger women. The suite was similar in size to the Chairman’s, decorated with ice sculptures of exotic birds from a dozen worlds. Server trays floated between the guests offering drinks and hors-d’oeuvres while a twelve piece orchestra of Tau Cetin musicians played a late fortieth century symphony at one end of the room. It took me a moment to realize the orchestra was holographic, then the wall behind me exploded as ten exoskeletons came crashing through, setting off more startled cries from the party guests.

  I ran through the crowd as the exoskeletons marched after me, scattering guests and floating server trays in their path. While screams filled the room, the holographic Tau Cetins played on obliviously, swaying in time to the music in a very non-TC way.

  “Open,” I yelled as I reached the entrance. This time, there was no argument. The double doors slid aside, then I darted through and turned to the exterior panel. “Close and lock, set password: no go.”

  “Confirmed. Password set,” the panel replied.

  There were no guards in the hall. The pair I’d seen outside the Pantheon Suite must have been exclusively for the Chairman’s protection. Exoskeletons began hammering on the locked door as I headed for the guest elevator, peeling off my butler’s coat and leaving it in the corridor.

  “Jase, are you there?” I said into my communicator as the elevator arrived.

  “Yes, Skipper.”

  “Get me out of here. Grab the first docking slot you can,” I said, riding the elevator down one level.

  “Will do.”

  I pocketed the communicator and stepped out onto the Upper Observation Deck. Alfresco cafes faced a floor to ceiling real time display of the river of super heated gas spiraling down onto the white dwarf’s glowing accretion disk. Walking in front of the cafés were a pair of uniformed ship security men. They paid me no attention, so I mingled with passengers strolling along the boardwalk eyeballing the cosmic time bomb in the distance.

  The fledgling supernova wasn’t the only time bomb in the Duranis System. Somewhere out there was the Mavia, preparing to unleash its own catastrophe upon mankind – unless I could find a way to stop it.

  “We’re heading in now,” Jase’s voice sounded in my ear as I took cover in the tropical garden beyond the hanger. I’d detoured several times to avoid the ship’s uniformed security people who were now checking the identity of every man my height and build. Chairman Ransford had clearly ordered his toy soldiers to arrest me once he realized the exoskeletons had failed.

  “On my way,” I replied, starting toward the edge of the garden where I could see the infopanes outside the hanger entry. There were no uniforms in sight, then just as I was about to break cover, a small hand caught my shoulder. I spun around to find Anya Krol, the Cyclops’s navigator, standing behind me dressed as if she’d just come from one of the swimming pools: minimal bathing suit, UV visor and wide brimmed hat over a scarf wrapped around her forehead like a bandanna hiding her commband. I almost didn’t recognize her without her red armor and guns.

  “You’ll need this,” she said, offering me a needler, small for my hand, just right for hers. “Twenty shots. Make them count.”

  “Thanks,” I said uncertainly. “How’d you find me?”

  “That airlock’s the only one open for docking, the only way off the Aphrodite. Four of Trask’s men are waiting for you in the hanger.

  “No ship security?”

  Anya shook her head. “They have orders to shoot you on sight, but not to enter the hanger.” It was a kill zone and they’d been driving me toward it. She handed me a Pleasure Pass keyed
to another identity. “This’ll get you through the checkpoint without setting off alarms.”

  I pocketed the pass and the gun. “Why are you helping me?”

  “Rix told me too,” she said with a hint of irritation. “For some strange reason, he doesn’t want you dead.”

  “Where’s the Cyclops now?”

  “Orbiting Duranis-B. They didn’t want us spooking the tourists, so they made us park over there and use our launch. We’ll be leaving as soon as I get back.”

  “Why didn’t Rix come himself?”

  She smiled sourly. “Because they’re always watching him. They need us, but they don’t trust us.” She glanced down at her bathing suit. “I lost the two security men they had following me when I changed into this.”

  “Good disguise,” I said trying not to stare at her near nakedness.

  Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What are you to him?”

  I realized my brother confided in no one, not even his most trusted lieutenant. “We crossed paths once, in another life.”

  “You’re as big a liar as he is!” she said with simmering anger, not at me, but at Rix for not trusting her.

  “Tell him Ransford’s crazy if he thinks he can play the Matarons. Ransford’s the one being manipulated.”

  She showed no surprise at the mention of the snakeheads. As navigator, she must have seen their ships when the Cyclops picked up the hijacked Kesarn-tech.

  “They’ve done everything they said they would.”

  “Only because it’s been in their interest. When this all falls apart, you don’t want to be in the middle, because anyone helping the Matarons is going to end up dead.”

  “I’ll tell him, but he won’t listen,” she said slowly, wondering what interest I had in Matarons. “You’re not really a freighter captain, are you?”

  “Sure I am. Ask anyone.”

  She gave me a dubious look, knowing it was another lie, then slipped away into the garden. I gave her a few seconds to get clear, then strode past the water nymph fountain into the passageway leading to the hanger deck.

  At the transparent pressure door, a polite synthetic voice said, “The captain and crew of the Aphrodite hope you enjoyed your visit, madam. Please come again soon.”