Epsilon Eridani (Aeon 14: Enfield Genesis) Read online

  But what does the duty station have to do with—ohhhh, she interrupted herself mentally as she caught the expectant look on Edouard Zola’s face just as she recalled where Phaethon’s orbit currently placed it in relation to the NaWai asteroid and its mining platform. “Sir,” she said with a smile, “that’s a very good idea. I’ve not been out there to visit in a while. I’ll leave this afternoon.”

  Zola sat back, a satisfied expression on his face. “Good. Interesting that your flight path will pass so close by Verdant, isn’t it?”

  Simone smiled slyly at her commander-in-chief. “Complete coincidence, sir.”

  As she rose and took her leave of the three, she overheard Zola ask after a missive the Directorate had received yesterday morning, an encrypted transmission from the prime minister of a neighboring system: Alpha Centauri.

  “Isn’t that where the Enfield Corporation relocated its headquarters to?” Simone heard Nico ask, just as the door slid shut behind her.

  * * * * *

  Simone hitched a ride to Phaethon Duty Station on the diplomatic courier ship CSS Charade. The ship, crewed by a small complement of Commonwealth Navy and Marines, was carrying a packet of hyfilms for the Trade Commission office as well as a single diplomatic passenger.

  The attaché, who was stationed at Phaethon but had been vacationing on Godel, was an old friend of Simone’s and the one who had suggested she join her on the courier ship. Simone had been assured that the slight detour that a close pass by NaWai and the Verdant platform would necessitate wasn’t an issue, and she had readily accepted.

  Once on board, Simone learned that Barat seemed to be turning up the heat everywhere, not just around the inner asteroids and shipping lanes. The courier ship had just received word that a Godel agent had been arrested by Barat in the duty station, on spurious charges that were clearly falsified.

  They would use this transit time to formulate a plan to get her back, if Barat refused to yield to the political pressures the station’s diplomatic attaché would bring to bear.

  As they approached Verdant, Simone directed the ship’s AI, Charlotte, to request a brief stopover. The station controller who responded cautioned that the platform was closed to visitors at the moment. Simone replied that they were here at the request of a friend to pick up two children for passage to Godel.

  Reluctantly, the controller allowed them to dock.

  Simone assured Charlotte.

  Charlotte asked curiously.

  Simone confirmed.

  Charlotte’s voice was troubled.

  Simone admitted,

  Charlotte assured Simone, sending the analyst a warm surge of reassurance.

  Three hours later, a very troubled Simone boarded the Charade, two children in tow. The junior analyst’s brother had not overstated the situation. A brief conversation with the AIs on the platform confirmed the Directorate’s suspicions: someone was stirring up trouble on Verdant.

  PART TWO: THE STING

  TARGET: ACQUIRED

  STELLAR DATE: 03.08.3272 (Adjusted Gregorian)

  LOCATION: Phaethon Duty Station

  REGION: Little River, Inner System

  The day after the CSS Charade departed Verdant, a small team of citizen soldiers moved stealthily among the merchant’s bazaar that was one of Phaethon Duty Station’s main attractions.

  The operation was carefully staged; booths filled with colorful bolts of cloth, handmade ceramics, and batches of aged lagers masked their presence. Their ability to maintain stealth was rather impressive, considering their uniforms were required to pull off this charade. The stiff greys and blacks of their duty fatigues stood in stark contrast to the colorful atmosphere exuded by the bazaar.

 

  The words came softly over Sergei’s citizen’s implant, galvanizing him into action. Abandoning caution in favor of speed, Sergei skipped his way through the network he’d been hacking, seeking the backdoor their mole inside Godel’s Trade Commission had promised.

  There.

  Sergei heaved a sigh as the system subverted to his control. He spared a glance at his surroundings to reassure himself that they remained hidden from public view, tucked behind the canvas of a vendor’s booth.

  He returned his attention to his HUD.

  he announced as he inserted his version of the duty station’s map and forced an auto-update to the public feed. He’d barely made it in time.

  The feed coming from the spotter showed their targets, two crew of the Centauri ship the Avon Vale, seated at a café on the border of Phaethon’s retail district. As he watched, one of them called a servitor to the table to close out their tab. They seemed unaware that their movements were being observed with keen interest by six Citizen Soldiers of the Humans’ Republic of Barat.

  Sergei was pleased to note the Centauri hadn’t appeared to notice the auto update either, nor the change to the duty station’s map. The map, available to all visitors over Phaethon’s public net, was a key element of this subterfuge. It wasn’t impossible to entice their victims into Barat Territory without it, but the map made their jobs just that much easier.

  The subterfuge was carefully reinforced by the appearance of the merchants’ booths just inside Barat; the shopkeepers there had been instructed to closely mimic the look and feel of nearby booths run by Godel shopkeepers, in order to blur the lines between the two territories as much as possible within the bazaar. This was by design, as it helped maintain the illusion of safety.

  He knew from experience that these shops were much nicer than the ones outside the bazaar, those that were closer in to the center of Barat’s on-station presence.

  It wasn’t that the Citizen Guard cared one whit about their merchants’ financial success, nor did they care all that much about appearances, except where it could further their goals. This fiction was simply a useful tool, one that helped the Citizen’s Guard ensnare the occasional high-value target for the Republic.

  Today’s ruse was one Sergei had performed more than once; as soon as their victims crossed over into the Barat-run side of the bazaar, he and his fellow soldiers could stop them for unauthorized entry. A routine search would then reveal stolen merchandise, conveniently planted on the trespassers. A citizen’s arrest would follow.

  This man and woman were of particular interest, as they hailed from another star—a rarity here in the system its inhabitants had named Little River. Their ship had been tagged by Barat’s Public Safety and Information Office as an object of interest shortly after the Avon Vale had entered the heliopause and transmitted their intent to establish peaceful trade.

  Those working Godel’s Trade Marina had issued an invitation to the vessel and assigned it a docking slip before the visitors had even had a chance to respond to the Republic’s initial overtures.

  Typical of Godel.

  The moment the Centauri ship had accepted Godel’s offer, plans had been set in motion to acquire some of the ship’s personnel as leverage. They would be held in exchange for whatever tech Godel received, ensuring Barat received the same advantages.

  As luck would have it, the two targets Sergei’s team had identified were both high-value: the ship’s captain and its executive officer.

  “Sssst!” The sibilant whisper cut through the tense silence that permeated the small group of Citizen Soldiers seconded to this mission. It was followed by
a sharp jab, as an elbow connected with his ribs. “The Citizen Lieutenant just ordered us to relocate. We’re to move three rows closer to the target. Come on!”

  Sergei frowned, but didn’t allow his fellow soldier’s demand to interfere with his concentration as he manipulated the interface he was using to monitor their targets.

  he warned her as he gathered his kit and stood.

  Stepping out from behind a colorful wall of fabrics, he shot a cursory glance down the row of wares before he crossed over and followed the woman across the next two aisles. Securing his gear, he reached for his weapon, then watched as the servitor approached the targets as they rose from their table….

  * * * * *

  Jason Andrews, executive officer of the ESS Avon Vale, pushed his empty plate aside and signaled the café’s servitor to close their account as he glanced across the table at his captain.

  Seeing that her attention was caught by something within Phaethon’s merchant bazaar, he reached over to snag the last pineberry off Calista’s plate. He grinned unrepentantly and deftly evaded her hand, popping the fruit into his mouth as she swatted at him for his poaching.

  “Gotta introduce Jonesy to these babies,” he observed from around the bite of sweet, white fruit. “See if he can’t find a way to add them to the Avon Vale’s gardens.”

  Growing exotic fruits was one of the ship’s engineer’s favorite hobbies, and Jason knew this oddly-colored, mildly pineapple-flavored version of a strawberry was something that would intrigue Jonesy.

  “Never ceases to amaze me,” Calista murmured, and he shifted his gaze from the colorfully-swathed people milling about to study the woman who sat across from him: captain, lover, and friend.

  “What, Jonesy’s considerable assets?” he asked with a waggle of his eyebrows and a sardonic grin, but she just shot him a look and made a vague gesture to their surroundings.

  “All this,” she explained, chin resting in the palm of one hand, her expression contemplative. “When you think about it, there’s very little difference between this station and any random one in Alpha Centauri—or Tau Ceti, for that matter.” She nodded in the direction of the buttressed support beams that formed the clearspan space above their heads. “A bulkhead is pretty universal, you know.”

  “You mean galactic. We have no idea what kind of station some aliens out in the Andromeda galaxy or the LMC might design,” he pointed out, then ducked as she threw a roll at him, a reluctant smile teasing the edge of her mouth.

  “You know what I mean, flyboy. A bulkhead’s a bulkhead, but all this,” she gestured around at the merchant’s bazaar that surrounded them, “somehow has its own unique flavor, distinct from anything I’ve ever experienced.”

  Jason cocked his head as they rose to leave, considering her words. “Well, we are almost thirteen light years away from Centauri. Not like we can call back to ask about the latest recipes or fashion styles.”

  “I know that, Andrews.” He twisted to avoid the punch she threw at his shoulder and then scowled over at her, massaging his arm as they walked toward the café’s exit.

  She looped her hand through his arm in a conciliatory gesture that made him smile. “I didn’t say it surprised me, just that it amazed me,” she responded. “Listen to the way the people of Little River sound: there’s lingual drift, too. The accents, the colloquialisms. It’s all so fascinating.”

  Jason shrugged, settling into an easy stride, his hand covering hers as they exited and began a casual stroll among the colorful booths that lined the boardwalk at the bazaar’s edge.

  “Humans gotta human, as Tobias always says,” he replied.

  Just then, as if conjured by his mention of the Weapon Born’s name, the AI pinged him. As he accepted the connection, Tobias’s avatar appeared.

  Tobias informed them both,

  Jason replied, sending a wave of relief.

  He felt a thread of agreement emanate from the AI at his words. Tobias added, mentioning the AI embedded with Terrance, the Vale’s owner.

  Calista chimed in as Jason shot her a questioning look, and he saw Tobias’s avatar nod in response.

  was the AI’s rejoinder.

  Jason’s jibe was met with a rude sound and a gesture from Tobias that had Calista laughing out loud.

  the woman assured the Weapon Born.

  Jason complained, sliding a sideways grin toward Calista.

  She responded with a mock frown and a raised brow.

  He snorted at her words but let them pass, as a pattern his subconscious mind had picked up on began to solidify. he began, dropping her arm to free both their hands. He shifted closer to Calista as three figures wearing unfamiliar uniforms materialized from out of the colorful throng.

  Calista cursed softly.

  Jason sent her a chuckle as he tested their connection to the Avon Vale’s shipnet. As he suspected, it was being blocked by a jamming field he felt certain was caused by their new friends. He sensed movement behind him, and the sensor feed woven into his base layer confirmed that the three to the front had brought reinforcements.

  he cautioned, and Calista cursed once more.

  Calista warned, and Jason knew she had sensed him tense, readying himself for action.

 

 

  Jason remained stubbornly silent.

  Calista’s mental tone was both cajoling and exasperated. He sensed her emotions shift, a steely resolve now emanating from her, and he knew she had donned the mantle of captain once again.

  Calista added, silencing his nascent protest.

  He hated when she put limitations on him like that.

  Jason’s abilities weren’t all that special when pitted against the kind of modifications most militaries offered their soldiers, such as augmented strength, stamina, and speed—even expanded mental capacities.

  But where the average soldier depended upon artificial means to supply these added capabilities, and SC batteries to power them, Jason—as an L2 human—came by his naturally.

  He understood also what Calista had left unsaid. If their opponent threw a suppression net over them, she might well become incapacitated. He, on the other hand, would not.

 

  ust make it look as if they were having a bad day. You know—poor luck, aim slightly off. Just enough to allow an escape,> she advised.

  he muttered. No amount of arguing would keep him from planting one of their trackers on her.

  Calista sent her assent just as the soldiers made their move.

  * * * * *

  Sergei flattened himself behind the flimsy plascrete wall of a vendor displaying caps and scarves as the two from the Avon Vale strolled by. After they passed, he and his partner fell into the flow of shoppers, following at a distance as he sent a countdown to the soldiers up ahead. As the countdown reached zero, three Humans’ Republic Soldiers stepped out of the shadows, into the path of the two they’d been sent to retrieve.

  This was Sergei’s cue. As the man and woman from the Avon Vale passed, he and his partner closed from behind, cutting off their retreat. Sergei’s HUD indicated that the jamming system had been engaged; this would prevent them from calling in reinforcements.

  “Halt,” Maritz, the Citizen lieutenant commanding their team, called out as she and the two soldiers flanking her closed on the two. “Stand and be inspected.”

  He saw the two exchange wary glances. The man moved closer to the woman, his movements striking Sergei as almost unnaturally smooth.

  “What’s the problem, officer?” the man asked as he shifted into a slouch, one hand slung carelessly around the woman’s neck. He began toying idly with her hair as Citizen Maritz trained her weapon on them.

  “We received a call from one of the merchants. Two people matching your description were seen shoplifting.” With an exaggerated frown, Maritz added, “It may not be the same where you come from, but the Republic has stringent laws about theft.”

  She gestured to the citizen soldier on her left, and the woman stepped forward, gesturing with her flechette.

  “Stand apart and keep your hands where we can see them.”