Surveil

I forced myself to make time for the investigation. The last thing we’d really gotten done was talking to Tasser and sending Nai to the local Organic Authority office and demanding an access log for my records.

That had been…what…two weeks ago?

Nora was desperate enough to find her campers that she was attending our investigation meetings even though she wasn’t nearly fluent enough to participate. If nothing else, she would be able answer any more questions about her time with the Vorak.

But I had questions of my own. Serral and Nai had been busy, and I needed to get up to speed.

Nai summarized for me, “we basically had two ways to nose into the Sails: the Organic Authority or criminal affiliates.”

“We’ve been focusing on the latter,” Serral said. “Easier to pressure criminal rings taking Vorak favors than to make demands of the Organic Authority. They’re just as likely to declare us in violation of First Contact practices as the Vorak, and I don’t just mean because of Marshal Tispas’s accusations against Caleb.”

“So…what? Have we just not been talking to the Org just in case they get upset I’ve almost died?”

Serral awkwardly looked to Nai for help with the question.

“Caleb…” she said carefully, “you know that we did screw up First Contact, right? There is a meritable argument that we should have turned you over to the Organic Authority immediately after you reached Demon’s Pit.”

“[Gee,] that’s a good point,” I drawled. “It’s not like there were Vorak trying to—”

Except…they hadn’t been trying to kill me…entirely. Probably. Ugh, that was not a fun realization to dwell on.

“Whatever,” I said. “If I have to give the Vorak slack for not having the whole picture, you better believe I’m giving you the same benefit.”

“Still, it makes handling the Organic Authority tricky,” Serral said, “hence our focus on locals who might have ties to the Red Sails. We came up with a list of more than twenty, but over the last few days these three seem…well, they’re not promising, but they’re the most likely to at least have something we want.”

Serral pushed a stack of dossiers around the table. Inside the folder were two Vorak and a Casti.

“Berro Jo,” the Ase introduced. “Forty-three years old, male, emigrated from one of the Exile colonies, but intelligence can’t confirm which one. Currently they own and operate a High Harbor bio-factory. They grow food supplies, mainly fish, but they’re also suspected to be involved in multiple smuggling schemes.”

“This file only references one physical location, the factory itself. We don’t know where they live?” Nikrim asked.

That was reassuring. I wasn’t the only one who needed to catch up.

“They’re low on the smuggling food-chain and suspected of having ties to the Red Sails precisely because of that. They keep a low profile—likely because a Red Sails’ handler told them to,” Nai said, flipping through the file.

Serral continued.

“Our second fur-fish is Rende Braskin, a Vorak community leader in the South Quarter.”

“South Quarter?” I asked, raising my hand.

“Local neighborhood and the largest Vorak community in this system, even counting Korbanok,” Serral explained. “Rende is a High Harbor native, been here for decades. They’re highly respected and a personal friend to the colony mayor. If we talk to this rak, we need to do it carefully and quietly.”

“I don’t understand,” I admitted. “If they’re this much of a local fixture, how likely are they to have concrete ties to the Sails?”

“Difficult to say how much they personally might know, but even if Rende doesn’t have any personal ties, anyone on this moon who is connected to the Red Sails? They’re definitely friends with this rak.”

“[These are leads?]” Nora asked me, peeking over my shoulder.

“[Yeah, local people who might know stuff we want to know.]”

“[Who’s the Casti?]” she asked, poking at the third profile in the folder. The other two had decent photos of the rak, but the Casti had only one blurry image to identify them.

Serral answered her question, even if she couldn’t understand every word yet.

“Our third contender is Fran. He is the most notorious criminal in this star system. He's suspected of more than a dozen murders, implicated in a dozen more. He keeps a very low profile and even inquiring about him at all could bite us.”

“If he’s criminal enough to be cozy with the Vorak, why is he going to talk to us?”

“Because he told the Coalition he might,” Serral said. “Based on what little contact we’ve had with him, Fran is a more opportunistic criminal than most of his Vorak counterparts. Fran is more than willing to play both sides, plus a few extra sides everyone else probably doesn’t know about.”

“Speaking of,” I added, “Fran? Just Fran?”

“It’s an epithet,” Serral said. “I don’t think anyone knows what it means.”

I asked Nora, holding up the documents.

I suggested.

Nora looked taken aback.

she grumbled.

“Alright, we should divide and conquer exactly who’s going to tackle each lead…” Serral said.

“Hang on,” I interrupted. “We’re not going to talk about the Organic Authority?”

“Even if we focus on the local angles first, it’s still worth going over what we might be able to find from them,” Nai pointed out.

“We already got the access logs to Caleb’s data,” Fenno added. “What else can they help us with?”

“If we get desperate, we can always request a more recent version of the logs. It’s not like anyone is going to suddenly stop being interested in the new aliens,” Leen said.

“Nothing inspires hope like leading with ‘if we get desperate,’” I told her. “But…what if we ignore the formal data? Focus on the people?”

Everyone but Nora gave me a quizzical look, but she had little else to track the conversation with besides everyone’s gaze.

“[What did you say?]” she asked curiously.

“I’m trying to think psychologically,” I said. “Say I’m Marshal Tispas, or whoever he taps to be in charge of Nora’s humans. I know the Coalition has their own human, for months even. So I keep bracing myself for you all to exploit that information.”

“…But we never do,” Nai followed. “We tried to keep you secret too. In fact, war footing across the system should have heated up after Korbanok…but it didn’t. Not for long. Everyone got cautious.”

“Because you didn’t know how much the Vorak knew, and you don’t want the Vorak to know how little you know,” I agreed. “So, isn’t that the Vorak’s position too? They have no clue how much the Coalition knows either.”

“Ah…” Serral realized, “you think the Red Sails have made similar inquiries as ours with the Organic Authority.”

“Exactly,” I said, “and we can glean something from those inquiries. We shouldn’t just look at who tried to access my data after humans became public. The real [crumbs] are going to be who knew to ask before then, and who did so [on the QT].”

“That’s not going to be in records,” Nai pointed out. “Ignore the formal data, indeed. That’s going to require investigating Org personnel. We have no idea who the Sails would reach out to, and there’s a hundred branches in this system.”

“Yup,” I said. “But we can give ourselves a head start by finding out where the Vorak were keeping Nora and her campers.”

“You don’t mean where they are now,” Serral followed. “They were moved. But since Nora was at Cirinsko, we use her to narrow down where they were.”

“Given what we already know about the kind of building they would have been kept in, we can retrace her steps with a map, and find the closest Org branch,” I said.

“But what are the odds our Vorak in question has a friend at whichever Org branch we track?” Nai asked.

“I don’t think it matters,” I said. “Even if our Vorak is contacting someone on Harrogate, or even here, they’re still going to talk to the local branch to pass on the message. Because you’re not going to run this through Red Sails’ networks: the Marshal is having a spat with his adjutant, and you’re not supposed to let that adjutant find out anything about these humans you’re in charge of.”

“That’s good,” Serral said, scribbling down some notes. “It hinges on half-a-dozen assumptions, but I think there’s chance enough to try.”

“The real problem is finding an angle to get them to share the information with us,” Nikrim said. “The reason a Vorak would trust this hypothetical friend in the Org is because they’re a friend. We’re not going to get information from them by asking nicely.”

“Depends on who they are and where,” the Ase said. “But, assuming this hypothetical Org contact exists, if they’re here or Draylend, we’ve got a shot of getting to them in person.”

“Worst case scenario, they’re on Harrogate, far out of reach,” Thugnin said.

“Worst case, they don’t exist at all, and we’re screwed no matter what,” I said.

“Investigating the Org will take even more time to set up than taking to Rende. We’ll finish exhausting our local leads first.”

That was fine. I just hadn’t wanted to skip over any possibilities.

“Of the three, who do we talk to first?” I asked.

“Depends on what you mean by ‘first’,” Serral admitted. “Rende is the most promising one still on our list, but approaching them could be difficult to time.”

“I take it we don’t want to walk up to the rak and just ask, ‘hey, you know people in the Red Sails, right? Help us out?’,” I said.

“We’d need the right approach,” Serral agreed. “Probably not a job for you.”

“Why not?” I frowned. “I’m personable. Sometimes.”

“You’re a fascinating new alien,” Serral agreed, “you’d certainly be able to meet Rende. But it would be neither subtle nor safe. If you get involved in local government posturing, Admiral Laranta would skin me alive.”

“Strictly as a backup plan then,” I conceded. “You’re an Ase. That’s someone kinda important. Surely you could make contact with a local figure without making too big a splash.”

“Important people meeting with other important people tend to catch more attention, not less,” Nai pointed out.

“And since we’re not sending you by default…” I jabbed. Nai rolled her eyes, but the room’s attention did land on the eight other soldiers in the room.

When my bodyguard rotation had the investigation added to their responsibilities, they handled it well. But judging by the looks on their faces, we’d just discovered the limits of their collective comfort.

“Please no,” Weith moaned.

“I told you this assignment was going to give you some difficult tasks,” Serral reminded them.

“It was supposed to be a protection detail, corralling protestors, screening people,” Nikrim said. “Not covertly contacting public figures!”

“This isn’t up for debate,” Serral said. “The good news is only half of you are getting stuck with it. You can decide amongst yourselves whom exactly that is.”

“I’ll do it,” Thugnin said simply.

“Really?”

“Why?”

Even the other bodyguards were surprised. Ten pairs of eyes landed on him, expecting him to elaborate. Nora was having trouble following the conversation, but followed the stares. Thugnin, on the other hand, gave no indication he would say more.

“…Then the rest of you only have to pick three people to help him,” Serral said, keeping things moving along. “The rest are going to work with Caleb and Nai about looking into our more criminal possibilities.”

“What about you, Ase?” Deg asked.

“I’m going to see what embedded spies I can access,” Serral grimaced. “Wish me luck. Nai, you coordinate with…”

While Serral doled out assignments Nora gave me a psionic nudge.

I chastised her.

she shrugged.

I asked, prodding the floor with my shoe, pushing some of my own cascade outwards.

she agreed. <[For Adeptry, I can’t make anything more than an inch or three from my body. But I can almost wrap the room in my tascade .]>

I said.

I said.

Nora grinned.

Nora kept cascading the room, paying a frightening amount of attention to what was being said. I got the feeling she was catching a few more words in Starspeak than she gave on.

Our meeting was winding down. Serral was outlining a plan to requisition data feeds that might have recorded our abduction ships by coincidence. Even small pixels of difference in footage could narrow down just what area on Archo Nora’s campers were being kept.

Nora asked.

She was at least keeping the interruption psionic. It let me still pay attention to Serral’s points.

I replied.

Nora said.

I asked seriously.

she answered. <[But I am getting whiffs of something fishy…]>

She leapt up from her seat at the table. Straight up.

In a split second, she shoved a hand into the ceiling. Metal groaned, dust filled the room, and a heartbeat later Nora dropped to the table clutching something in a bloody hand.

With the benefit of hindsight, I should have taken her ‘warn people’ instruction a bit more sharply.

Half the room reached for guns on sheer reflex.

“[What the hell is this?]” she asked me.

In her hand was…well, a hamster-sized mosquito.

Except it wasn’t made of flesh and blood. It’s limbs were thin metal spindles, hinged not jointed. The wings looked plastic, and the head even appeared to have lenses on it. It was a robot.

I took it from her hands, cascading the machine, even as it twitched in her grip.

Familiar components lit up in my mind. Batteries, miniature servos, cameras, even microphones. But beating inside the body of the little machine was something that made my blood go cold. The brain, a bundle of semiconducting materials that could only have been a microprocessor.

It was technology that I hadn’t seen even the slightest sign of amongst the aliens. Even the most advanced spacefaring militaries were still using Cold War computers.

The bug was still functioning too. I could feel the trickle of power serving the microphones in its body.

I’d pushed my cascade into every corner of the drone that I could, and I felt it begin to dissolve—I felt it be dissolved. It was Adept made and its creator was getting rid of it. My brain lurched, trying to take as comprehensive snapshot of the bug with my cascade as possible.

After a second, the machine vanished from my hand. Completely gone.

“What are you doing?” Deg asked. The rest of my bodyguard crew was reacting similarly. Thank goodness only the two on duty today were actually armed.

Serral and Nai had at least glimpsed the bug.

Nai gathered.

I realized. That was why she was discussing psionically, oh that was a smart call, Nai!

“[It was Adept made,]” Nora recognized.

I elbowed her, making a zipping motion across my lips.

“I know it was Adept made,” I said, mind racing.

The bug hadn’t been feeding juice to its camera. It couldn’t have seen anything. That would have put itself at risk of being seen in turn. No, it had only heard us.

Which meant this was salvageable.

“I didn’t calculate the pressure right,” I said. “I overdid it.”

I prompted everyone.

Nora followed. “[New rule: Caleb isn’t allowed to make any more bombs.]”

She was talking in English. Not the most helpful.

“What actually happened?” Fenno gasped.

I shot a look at Nai and Serral. I shared.

“Sorry,” I said. “I was trying to show Nora the principle behind my kinetic bombs; she wanted to figure out how to make things under tension.”

“And you thought you’d just make a bomb? Here? Now?” one of the off-duty bodyguards, Weith, asked. He was really leaning into our little scenario.

“It was supposed to be a small –very small one,,” I said pitifully. “Hindsight is twenty-twenty.”

“Twenty- what?”

Yeah, I guess that wouldn’t translate. Still it played into the chaos of the moment.

Nai said.

·····

An hour later we’d commandeered one of the trams moving through out High Harbor base. A discussion in transit was harder to bug, and even if I somehow missed something cascading the tram, the audible conversation was retreading the events of my time on Yawhere.

The real discussion stayed psionic, where no one could bug it.

Serral wondered.

Nai said.

I followed.

I said.

We’d dropped Nora off at home with two bodyguards while the young surgeon patched up the hand she’d injured punching through a metal air duct.

Serral nodded wearily, looking ahead at the upcoming stop.

Serral sighed.

Aloud, he just said, “Nikrim, take Jage and let the Admiral know we’re going to need new equipment to replace what Caleb broke.”

“Yes Ase,” they both said.

It was a thin deception. What kind of Admiral would be bothered with an equipment request? But we were improvising security measures right now. The holes would be shored up after we actually collected ourselves.

Serral asked me.

I said.

Nai gathered.

I said.

Nai said.

Serral asked.

I said.

Nai replied,

I said.

Nai frowned.

Serral followed.

If this hadn’t been made by a Vorak spying on the Coalition, it must have been made by a Farnata.

At least, that was what the two of them were thinking.

I said darkly.

Nai frowned.

I agreed.

Nai disagreed.

I said.

Something catastrophic had gone wrong in the abduction plans, whatever the original draft might have been. It had been obvious from the first minute. No one who went through those lengths to keep us alive would want so many of us to die.

And yet we had.

But I’d been naïve. I let myself pretend that was the end of it, that they wouldn’t dare expose themselves if their abductees found their way into the interstellar public.

I said.

Nai asked.

I shook my head.

Things had been organized, there’d been an elaborate plan to abduct Nora, myself, and dozens of others onto prepared ships.

And yet, something had gone so, oh-so wrong.

I said.

Serral said.

Nai said, following my logic,

I said, materializing a facsimile of the robot-mosquito.