Outriders Page 26

  “Of course.” Harun retrieved the disc from within his jacket and placed it into her hand. “My apologies.”

  Alexis brandished her data file at the librarian. “Do you know another method for translating a TL-wide other than an ArcaVox? Because you’d save me plenty of effort if you did.”

  His sneering features faded and the man lowered his head a fraction. “I don’t, no.”

  “Then you’re interrupting valuable time I could be using to accomplish something practical. Move aside.”

  “At once, Ms. Lawrence.” He withdrew a keycard from one pocket and placed it in Alexis’ palm. “This will unlock Room 17-K.”

  “In the future, please confine your words to helpful ones.” She used the same tone of derision lurking behind a pleasant expression that he had directed toward her. “Or better yet, refrain from speaking altogether.”

  Alexis passed through the entryway, traveled down one corridor beyond various reserved rooms and reached the proper chamber. She opened the door with her keycard and locked it behind them once she and others were inside. Consoles ranging from ten to sixty years old lined counter surfaces, each deactivated until needed. An ArcaVox machine occupied one table to itself along the far wall, its protective covering a faded gray though still clean.

  Once alone in the chamber, Rinko erupted in laughter and doubled over holding her stomach. “Damn, I wasn’t sure I could keep a straight face. You have to do that more often, Lex. Oh, that was priceless.”

  Harun folded his arms and leaned against a desk. “I thought you’d believe kindness is the better tactic.”

  “Like we said before,” replied Alexis, “Karnak is a government-sponsored institution. Employees respond to authority, not niceties.”

  “You have a knack for command. The task suits you.”

  “I enjoy playing a role. Shouldering that much responsibility all the time wearies me. I’ll leave the split-second life or death decision making to you and Taylor.”

  Harun cast his eyes toward Rinko, who had sauntered over to prod the ArcaVox. “Does the computer match your expectations?”

  “Never seen one before, so I didn’t know what to expect.” Rinko shrugged off the knapsack she wore and pulled out a tablet, along with her modified Catalyst Router, which allowed her to link with older model computers. “But I shouldn’t have trouble with the interface or archaic system.”

  “Happy to hear it,” Alexis said. She handed the TL-wide disc to Rinko and slipped her own UpLink from a pocket. “You two have fun. I have another task waiting for my attention.”

  “What else could you possibly need to do?” questioned Harun.

  “A little insurance in case that librarian chooses to be an ass.”

  Alexis withdrew to one corner and accessed the university’s network, scrolling through tenured professors until she found her old instructor Jean Daudelin. She connected to the contact information during his office hours and initiated a voice-only call, hoping he might be available. The line rang for several long seconds until he answered in a gruff, throaty tone that caused others to believe he was unapproachable and belied his jovial nature.

  “This is Jean Daudelin.”

  “Professor! It’s Alexis Lawrence.”

  “Alexis? What a lovely surprise this is. How are you? Are you visiting the campus soon?”

  “I’m actually here right now, as it happens. In the library archives.”

  “And what brings you there?”

  “Honestly, it’s a long and exhausting story. But thrilling, let me tell you. Unfortunately I’m a tad squeezed for time right now. I hate to do this, but I need to ask a favor.”

  “You always were brazen, even as a first-year student with minimal higher education.” His exasperated sigh was audible, though his voice remained cheerful and affectionate. “What do you need?”

  “I’m accessing the ArcaVox, and I might’ve tossed around your name in order to gain permission from some holier-than-thou twit.”

  “Might have?”

  “Okay, I definitely did. If anyone from the library contacts you, please tell them I’m doing research on your behalf. That’s all I need.”

  “I’m uncomfortable you felt the need to misrepresent yourself at all.”

  “Time is a factor, Professor. I needed the machine the moment I arrived. I also don’t remember requiring permission when I was a student.”

  “I presume your reasoning will remain a mystery.”

  “Once my life calms down, I promise I’ll treat you to coffee and tell you all about what’s happening.”

  “Alexis, what have you gotten yourself mixed up in?”

  “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  “Naturally I’m familiar with your cavalier attitude toward…well, everything. But are you genuinely okay? The odd request and cryptic hints are somewhat concerning.”

  “Ask me again sometime and I might have an answer. For now lives depend on my choices, and you’ll have to trust that’s not a euphemism.”

  “You’re leaving me with little choice but to have faith you know what you’re doing.”

  “I’ve made it this far.” She looked over one shoulder at her companions as they hunched over an illuminated screen. “I have to go. I’ll be in touch with you again soon.”

  “Take care of yourself, Alexis. Whatever this is you’re involved in, be safe.”

  “I will. Goodbye, Professor.”

  “Farewell, Ms. Lawrence.”

  Alexis closed her UpLink and returned to the others. Pale blue lights radiated on the ArcaVox, though its terminal remained offline, and a wire trailed from one interface through Rinko’s Catalyst Router and then to her computer. As Rinko was keen to explain, wireless connections always left a trace for other technicians and slicers to follow. Establishing a direct link minimized evidence or the risk of discovery, since it allowed Rinko to operate within a closed network utterly under her control. At least in theory.

  “How’re we doing?” Alexis inquired.

  “Translation in progress,” replied Rinko. “The pace is steady, though somewhat slow going. Our whistleblower friend encrypted the data as an additional precaution like I guessed, and his programing is definitely esoteric. I have a suspicion he planned to use the decoding key as an incentive to ensure our cooperation, and only turn it over once he’d been paid. He must not have anticipated you’d bring a galactic-class hacker with you. I’m decrypting files in a randomized sequence while the computer does an automatic translation, and I doubt we’ll have everything for a while. Maybe days. We’ll need to finish translating and return to the Solar Flare before I dive in and decipher his handiwork. Otherwise all we’ll have is piecemeal data that might not make any sense.”

  Harun scrunched his brow and chewed on one lip. “Did that folder say Triaxus?”

  “Yeah, I’ve seen the name mentioned a couple times. They’re the largest mining and manufacturing concern in Confederacy space.”

  “Yes, I know. They’ve attempted to negotiate for contracts in Elathan territory, all without success. But I seem to recall Jeffrey mentioning intercepted transmissions to Turan between an unknown party and the commanding officer on the cruiser Odysseus. Triaxus’ headquarters happen to be located there.”

  “You think an Authority naval captain was communicating with Triaxus?” Rinko asked.

  “Perhaps. Can you tell me the folder’s contents?”

  “Haven’t decrypted that portion of data yet.”

  “Let me know when you do, if you don’t mind.”

  Alexis wandered behind Rinko’s chair alongside Harun and watched above her shoulder. Data and indecipherable computer code flashed on the screen, scrolling too rapidly for her to read more than a handful of jumbled words. One entry caught her attention and remained in view for several seconds, indicating a particularly large folder.

  “What’s Echo Flotilla?” she questioned.

  “Never heard the designation before,” answered Harun. “The name doesn’t
match standard policy for the Confederacy navy either. They use numbers for every fleet and group regardless of size, with the sole exception of temporary task forces. No unit called Echo Flotilla would exist in the Ascendant Starfleet.”

  “Could it be a codename or operation, rather than a literal group of warships?”

  “I suppose that’s a possibility. Still, the term is strange. Code words don’t typically use ‘fleet’ or ‘flotilla’ in the name, to avoid confusion with actual naval groups.”

  Harun turned around and paced the chamber, likely deciding not much could be done while the translation was in progress. Alexis dragged a chair closer and sat beside Rinko, though neither spoke while she was thinking. Text and nonsensical lines of code flickered too fast for Alexis to comprehend, but the display was hypnotic in a bizarre way. Finally a folder caught her attention.

  “Article Thirty-Seven,” she read.

  Harun snapped his attention to her as though he heard a gunshot. “What did you say?”

  “One of the folders is labeled Article Thirty-Seven. Does that mean anything to you?”

  “Disconnect the moment you finish translating. We need to return to your freighter and consult with the others on how to proceed.”

  Rinko shrugged, though continued interacting with the computer. “Um, okay. I imagine whatever that article or law is has some significance to you.”

  “Article Thirty-Seven is an Executive Order passed by the Confederacy Parliament concerning mining and mineral exploitation. The law forbids corporations licensed with the Stellar Goods and Trade Consortium from operating in star systems claimed by independent worlds unless specifically invited. This means a company like Triaxus cannot conduct business or extract even a single rock on a world governed by Delbaeth or Elatha, even if we haven’t colonized yet. So long as the planet is listed under our jurisdiction, only we can survey its surface and profit from those resources.”

  Alexis waved a finger at the screen. “What does that mean for us?”

  “According to the War Measures Act, the Confederacy can seize systems and planets as a means of reducing the strength of a hostile world. If an independent planet attacked a Confederacy member world, their Starfleet is sanctioned to invade systems controlled by the hostile independent government, which would become protectorates overseen by Parliament. This drastically lessens the resources and territories the belligerent world has access to. Article Thirty-Seven contains a clause for such an event, which allows Parliament to grant mining contracts in the newly acquired systems to ensure those resources can only be used by the Confederacy or an approved corporation.”

  “You think a corporation is attempting to gain control over Elathan or Delbaethi territory? A corporation like Triaxus?”

  “Perhaps. I don’t know what Triaxus would hope to gain though. The Confederacy has no authority to intervene in a war between independent planets unless war crimes are committed. If Delbaeth dropped an asteroid on an Elathan population center or unleashed a manufactured plague for instance, the Confederacy can declare war under the concept of Universal Jurisdiction. This allows their judiciary to put the guilty parties on trial for crimes against humanity, whether Confederacy citizens or not. But no such act has occurred. The fighting in Tuatha and neighboring star systems remains ferocious, though conducted according to accepted rules of war.”

  “Then without a well-timed and handy act of genocide, how could the Confederacy justify a declaration of war?” questioned Rinko.

  “They can’t. Not unless our militaries invade a member world or fire on warships of the Confederacy navy. Neither of our governments are foolish enough to do either.”

  Alexis folded her arms on the table and leaned forward. “While you were on Milesian Station with the others, Clara told me a story about how her squadron came across Confederacy starfighters in neutral space. A skirmish almost started because the Authority commander claimed her squadron violated their territory. Maybe Triaxus or whoever is manipulating this conflict hopes something similar might happen.”

  Harun ran a forefinger down his jawbone. “A plausible enough scenario. It wouldn’t be the first time one reckless, short-sighted naval captain sparked an interstellar incident.”

  “If we’re reading this scheme correctly, it’s an exceptionally complicated tactic for acquiring the rights to extract minerals on a new world. Why wouldn’t a company like Triaxus just go to an uninhabited system not claimed by any government? There are thousands within reach.”

  “Gaining access to new systems is all but impossible, requiring years of surveying and bidding wars. A new system might not be opened to mining contracts for years or even decades. But if the War Measures Act is triggered, all that red tape and jurisprudence vanish. The Confederacy military would need the resources of its adversaries eliminated straight away, and that means a company can receive exclusive, unhindered mining contracts within days. No expense is too great and no effort too exhaustive if a corporation could reduce the timeframe for expansion from decades down to weeks. It’s a brilliantly Machiavellian scheme. I would admire its architect were the strategy not targeting my home world’s economy and populace.”

  “Here’s a question for you,” Alexis said. “If Triaxus is involved, what can we do about it? No one will be able to get us clearance to land on Turan. Not to mention their corporate security will be much higher and more intimidating than a library. Even a government one.”

  “No security is insurmountable, and no facility impenetrable. We’ll discover a way.”

  “Actually, we don’t need to land on Turan or travel to the Tarquinia system,” Rinko announced. “We don’t even need to leave the Heliades system.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “Am I honestly the only person who bothers to read celebrity gossip articles?”

  Alexis curled her lips as though an unpleasant taste touched her tongue. “Ugh. You know that stuff is lowest common denominator drivel.”

  “Obviously. You just named the main reason why tabloids are fantastic. Major, I understand you’re a master spy and infiltrator-extraordinaire, but you really ought to consider branching out when it comes to gathering sources. You’d be surprised what can be learned from those intellectually-stunted commentators.”

  “What does any of this have to do with Triaxus?” Harun asked.

  “Their CEO happens to be a regular subject on various gossip sites,” Rinko explained. “Wealthy, charismatic, handsome. He fits their mold for who’s important enough to feature. In fact, I read an article the other day about how he’s currently on Jiaolong for business, staying in some posh top floor penthouse in the capital city Alishan. I’m guessing this Mr. Vanderlin is involved in any illegal operations his corporation might be conducting. And if that’s true…”

  “Then he may have evidence with him,” finished Alexis. “Or on his computer.”

  Harun directed his gaze toward Rinko. “If I can find you access to his computer, can you breach the security and download every sordid little secret?”

  “Hell yeah I can.”

  “Then finish your work here so we can return to the freighter. We have a trip to Jiaolong in our future.”

  Chapter 19

  “This is a flagrant act of war and cannot be seen otherwise. Our only appropriate response is to do likewise.”

  “Hear, hear!” hollered a fellow Member of Parliament.

  “How certain are we the Delbaethi Navy committed this breach of peace?” inquired one politician. “Their ambassador strenuously claims innocence.”

  “Delbaethi warships with active transponders opened fire on Task Force Echelon after identifying themselves. In addition, our intelligence networks were tracking both the Warspite and Saber prior to the attack. We know whose vessels are responsible, and cannot allow their fear or regret to weaken our resolve.”

  A representative from Daikoku stood and silenced other speakers with a raised hand. “Perhaps the guilty captain acted without the authoriza
tion or blessing of his government. What justification would we have for declaring war if one officer chose this shameful course on his own initiative?”

  “If the Delbaethi ambassador or government denounced their captain and turned him over to us to stand trial, then the matter would be settled and no further action necessary. However, both offices deny any involvement whatsoever and have chosen to protect their guilty officers and crews. We must therefore infer Captain Ramirez operated with the tacit, if not explicit, approval of his government.”

  Winston reclined on a couch in his penthouse suite with a drink in one hand, listening to the day’s recording from the Parliament Spire as they discussed the violent ambush near Ollathair. All sessions and debates were broadcast to the general public, though with a considerable delay rather than live in case sensitive matters or security concerns were discussed. Transparency and accountability were a hallmark of the current administration, leaving Winston to wonder if Jiaying would continue the policy once elected.

  She too belonged to the ruling Interplanetary Liberation Front party, yet disagreed with a number of fundamental mandates. Granting almost unfettered access to the public was one such issue. A shrewd politician allowed neither media personalities nor average citizens to witness the inner workings of their government. Inviting the plebeians and ill-informed to participate was a foolish notion perpetuated for too long by weak leaders.

  On the screen, Andronico Balotti was shouting to be heard. “I must strenuously voice my objection to any resolution resulting in war. We cannot in good conscience commit ourselves to a disastrous campaign—”

  “No, you only want to take action when it will personally benefit you.”

  Winston did not notice who had spoken, but the comment garnered laughter and applause. Balotti’s reputation was already damaged by the fabricated allegations of corruption, though he showed no inclination to withdraw.

  “Invading Tuatha will send an aggressive message to all non-aligned worlds,” Andronico affirmed. “A war against one might be misconstrued as the beginning of war against all. Rash action on our part today could unite all independent systems to declare war on a common enemy. Far from pacifying the Tuatha system, mobilizing our fleets might result in full-scale war through the Astraea Cluster.”