Rogues Revenge Ch 12 Pt 1 5/8/03)

[SteveMill]

First part of a thickening plot.

Chapter 12: Sating the Beast

It was hot down here in the mechanical heart of Station Prime where the waste heat generated by the computer cores, support systems and power plants that kept it running often overwhelmed the cooling system. It was even hotter in the claustrophobic chamber where Jakiziak Herranphut IV was lately forced to spend most of her days, at first fruitlessly combing logs for anything that hinted at inside involvement in the escape of Force and lately, configuring an early beta of software designed to parse security camera images for suspicious body language.

Too hot, even for a Teladi, she murmured to herself as for the tenth time this shift the software designated every movement in the main fighter bay, ‘anomalous.’ It must have been, she reflected bitterly, programmed by Split, who at last count had three genes directly implicated in their in-built paranoia. With a frustrated hiss she reinitialised a component of the neural net and isolated the feeder sub routines. While the code lines scrolled up the viewer she poured another glass of water from her flask. It was already tepid and from the chemical aftertaste the recyclers still needed adjustment.

Jakiziak leaned back in her chair, thankful at least that it was designed to accommodate her Teladi physiology. She liked her comforts and one of the few benefits of being so long on this station was that she had the time to organise her life to her own maximum comfort. The other benefit was of course the wealth. Maximum return for minimum investment, it was a motto to live by and a creed that naturally led her to parlay her undoubted gifts to whoever would pay the most.

Crime pays, as one of her latest rules to live by stated, as does treachery. When agents of Stoertebeker approached her for support her conscience put up barely a token struggle, particularly when the sums on offer mocked the credits her assiduously avaricious egg sisters could accrue in a ten year of investment of the frugal legacy left by the death of their Egg Mother. In her minds eye she conjured images of the conspicuous consumption she could flaunt in the faces of her rival siblings should this business come to fruition. She did not know what this enterprise was, something big, something obscenely profitable, something massive enough to warrant the capitalisation given to it in the hushed tones of the better informed she had made it her business to listen in on when their tongues were loosen by the twenty year old Argon Whisky she appeared to have an endless supply of. ‘The Enterprise!’ She now had two shares and the thought made her warm inside, a comfortable warmth, unlike the ozone dry heat of her small work space.

“Hello Jak.”

The Teladi computer expert started at the voice from the door’s security screen, spilling water down the front of her grey coveralls but that wasn’t what sent her body heat plunging towards the temperate, it wasn’t even the derogatory use of the insulting diminutive of her heritage, it was the man himself. She quickly tapped the lock code into the touch pad and activated the door. The Stoertebeker Security Chief stepped through.

Her eyelids nictitated nervously as she waited for him to speak. The human frightened everyone, he frightened her even when delivering untraceable credit chips drawn on anonymous accounts for, as he put it, ‘services rendered.’ She’d rendered him no services since facilitating the usurpation of the station through a strategic neglect of certain protocols and had no contact other than to report the negative outcome of her scrupulous search through comms records and security access programs during the hunt for any aid Force had in his escape. She had found none and neither had the others in her small team, all cross-checking each other’s conclusions and methods. However Force managed it he had been assiduous in covering his tracks, so assiduous that she was certain the explanation lay elsewhere entirely. A conclusion she had stated and Hagman appeared to accept but now he stood here, filling the chamber with his intimidating bulk.

“Do you know Anton Keffler?”

Jakiziak’s body heat cooled towards the arctic and she became acutely aware of the large blaster strapped to Hagman’s waist and the manner in which his fingers danced over the holster. Of course she knew Keffler, he was the most gifted of her three underlings, almost as adept at her when it came to programming, skilled enough to be a rival which is why she made the portly human her second, despite his unpleasant body odour. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer still, it was another of her rules, cogent if not original.

“He supplied me with this.”

She took the data crystal, trying hard not to let her claws shake as she inserted it into a port. She had to stand hunched over her terminal, her back turned to examine the contents and she could imagine the soft hiss of metal on leather as the cold-eyed man pulled his weapon to shoot her down. He had a reputation and one well-earned if just a fraction of what was whispered about him were true and none of it involved fair-play.

It took almost all of her willpower not to void her bowels as she ran her own tester programs on the data reconstructed from purged buffers rolling up the small monitor screen.

“It’s lies,” she managed to hiss, turning to meet his frozen stare. “Forgeries and lies.”

And it was. Under other circumstances she could have professionally admired the brilliantly executed fake, it was good enough to fool almost anyone, stand up to the most rigorous scrutiny, except hers and she somehow doubted that would count in what passed as a justice system in her new Clan.

“I know,” Hagman replied, laying an friendly arm around her thin shoulders provoking an involuntary squeal of terror from her near frozen throat. Incongruously she noticed his fingertips were stained blue.

“I have worked with you, I trust your loyalty to me, but I am in a difficult position. Our leader seeks heads and in the face of this irrefutable evidence I do not think he would be inclined to risk the success of the Enterprise on my unsupported word. Would you?”

Definitely, most definitely she would, she wanted to say but wisely she shook her head.

“Now why would your loyal assistant attempt to implicate you in Force’s escape if you are not guilty?”

The walls of the small chamber seemed to close in around her as she raced to keep up with the twisting path of the conversation.

“Because he wants my position?” she stammered. Hagman slowly shook his head. She grasped desperately for alternatives. “Because, because…?” Inspiration struck. “Because he is the traitor, because he is guilty!!” Hagman nodded approvingly.

“Unfortunately I have no evidence of that,” he said regretfully, “However, I do have this.” He plucked the crystal from the port.

“I fake – I search again I find evidence, good evidence!” Jakiziak pleaded. “No-one need know.” She hated the whine in her voice.

Hagman smiled for the first time.

“Good, I expect he had accomplices also. I have my suspicions.”

He mentioned names and positions.

“Bring the proof directly to me in my quarters, do not even speak to anyone else. If I am satisfied you will be rewarded.”

Hagman hefted the data crystal.

“I retain this, from now on you belong to me. Understand?”

She understood only to well. When he left she added a Paranid saying to her list of rules.

‘If you sup with the devil have a very long spoon.’

Hagman returned to his quarters, stood before the easel in contemplation. Then he took a brush, dipped it paint, rolling it until it was laden with colour and slashed the sky, mountain and serene lake with bloody red.