Against All Odds (38 page)

"Do you believe you need one?" one of the agents asked, as he took the seat across the table from her.

The other agent stood against the wall near the only door.

"I want a lawyer. I know my rights," Palmer said.

"Maybe there won't be a need—," the first agent said, "if you cooperate. I have a recording of a phone conversation. It was made a little over a half-hour ago. Tell me if anyone sounds familiar."

The agent slipped a data ring into a playback unit on the table in front of her and selected a file from the com display. It began playing through speakers mounted at the ceiling in all four corners of the room. Palmer expected to hear her own voice, but instead she heard the voices of two men. She instantly recognized Gadobi's raspy voice, but the other was unfamiliar.

"…Gadobi here. We have it."

"Are you sure?" the second voice said. "Has it been certified?"

"Yes, it's been tested and certified as genuine by our people."

"Finally. This will get Arneu off my back. He reams me out daily because I haven't been able to get a sample of that damn material."

"What about the woman?"

"Follow the plan. Give her the ticket and send her on her way to the Fountain of Youth. As soon as she boards the ship at Earth Station 3, she'll be drugged and put into stasis. When she reaches the lab we'll process her as promised, then put her on a ship to the resort. When she finally wakes up, she'll look twenty-one again and have a body to die for."

Palmer smiled.

"Then we'll wipe her mind," the voice continued, "and put her to work for us." Palmer's smile withered as she heard an evil chuckle. The voice continued with, "No one will ever be able to track her down and interrogate her. And we have a never-ending need for beautiful, compliant whores we don't have to keep drugged. It's easier to make our own from the 'plain janes' that come to us willingly than kidnapping beautiful women the way we used to."

"Okay..." Palmer heard Gadobi say as the conversation ended.

"In case you didn't realize it, they were talking about you," the agent said.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure you do. If you cooperate, we'll put you into witness protection. We'll even let you go, if that's really what you want, and help you catch your ride."

Palmer looked at him suspiciously. "Why would you do that?"

"If we let you meet the ship, we're sure you'll never commit a crime in GA space again. Plus we won't have to feed, clothe, and keep you healthy for the rest of your life. The Raiders will do that for us."

"What do you mean, Raiders?"

"Who do you think you've been working for?"

Palmer was beginning to understand she had been duped. "Delcorado Engineering," she said. "They said they needed a sample of the material because Space Command is letting all their regular military contracts expire. They need the material to compete in a difficult market by making more durable weapons and support products."

"Delcorado Engineering has nothing to do with this outfit. And contracts for old products expire all the time as contracts for new products are signed. Delcorado is a prime contractor and important supplier of military supplies to Space Command. They're not losing any business or shutting any plants. In fact, the current situation in Region Two has tripled their business."

"But they said…"

"I'm sure they did. They got you to betray your government with promises of youth and beauty, and even made it seem patriotic by fabricating some lies."

"They said I'd be like Admiral Jenetta Carver, young and beautiful for almost my whole lifetime."

"And it appears they meant it. You'd look young and beautiful, as you spent the rest of your life as a mindless sex slave. That was what they'd intended for the Admiral. Doesn't sound like a very good deal to me."

"They never mentioned the slavery part. Or the mindless part."

"I wouldn't expect them to mention that. Would you?"

"Um, no. How do I know you're not lying to me also?"

"You heard the phone call."

"That could be faked."

"You'll have to decide that for yourself. Now, do you cooperate, or do we help you make your flight?"

"Uh, I'll take the flight."

"Suit yourself. Pete, see she makes her flight. If she goes, fine. If she tries to miss it, take her to lockdown and I'll begin processing the charges for treason."

"Uh, wait," Palmer said, holding up her hand as the agent named Pete approached her. I just wanted to see if you'd really let me go. I really do want to cooperate."

"Okay," the first agent said, holding up his hand towards Pete, who retreated silently back to his standing position by the wall. "Start at the beginning and tell us everything you can remember. Describe everyone you've had contact with and everything that was said, exactly as said, as best you can remember.

"Six months ago I was notified I had been selected to receive a free weekend at The Gardens of Venus Spa in Cuba. I hadn't entered any contest so I was skeptical, but I was told I was automatically entered when I bought some facial products at a store here in Boston. I'd heard it was a fantastic place and the weekend was all-expense paid, so I…"

~ March 1
^st
, 2285 ~

During the final months, scout-destroyers made weekly trips to check on the progress of the Uthlaro fleet. The Uthlaro were probably not even aware of the Space Command vessels as they flashed by at Light-9375 on the edge of sensor range, but the Space Command vessels charted the position of every ship, their speed, and course. During the time they were monitored, the readings rarely varied. They were far too spread out for a WOLaR torpedo to take out more than one ship. The Uthlaro had learned their lesson.

The projected date of the Uthlaro arrival had originally been based on the earliest possible arrival time after the ships still able to move under their own power left the RP that Jenetta had named the Graveyard. The actual arrival date was considerably later and Jenetta speculated that the decimated fleet had been forced to stop somewhere to make repairs. The additional time had allowed Space Command to provide a far better array of warships than originally projected. As the Uthlaro fleet neared the base, the complement of Dakinium-Sheathed ships stood at nine battleships, three cruisers, two frigates, five destroyers, and seventy scout-destroyers. Each arrival of a DS ship bolstered Jenetta's confidence they could minimize the death toll of Space Command personnel. The eighty-nine DS ships, when combined with the M-designate ships and the older Mars-built ships swelled the Second Fleet to one hundred sixty-three.

Purely as a precaution, the underground bunkers were readied for use and all base personnel were assigned quarters in the underground chambers. They were required to study the layout to the point they could find their way in darkened tunnels using only emergency lighting to find shafts that led to the surface. The food stores were checked and all equipment was certified to be working at one hundred percent. When the Uthlaro arrived in the vicinity, Jenetta would order all non-ship personnel down into the bunkers. She wasn't taking any unnecessary chances. Holo-domes on the surface would hide the base completely. From space, it would appear as a large grassy area. Special images had been prepared for the areas where the Milori had left partially completed buildings. If the Uthlaro managed to reach the planet, they would only see what existed when the Milori ceased construction of a base here. Since roadways were already grass and buildings were always coated in special thermal protection materials, there would be no unusual heat signatures to betray building locations in an infrared scan.

With all the plans and preparations made, there was nothing to do except wait while conducting normal everyday business.

* * *

Strauss glanced slowly around the orotund table at his fellow council members as the group completed the 'old business' portion of the meeting. The powerful reach of these people, all members of the Lower Council, extended down to the lowlifes and riffraff that actually performed many of the nefarious deeds throughout the known galaxy.

Since the very first day the council began conducting meetings here, no one had ever been able to eavesdrop on conversations, celebrations, or tirades. Today would be no different. Sheathed in the best sound-deadening building materials available and protected by state-of-the-art electronic equipment, the room and building were as secure as the most protected government meeting centers in the galaxy. Just breaking through the security of the legitimate industrial conglomerate housing the spacious elliptical chamber was next to impossible. It would be easier to win a battle in unarmed combat with a Taurentlus-Thur Jumaka, than to get into this building. Many corporate spies, unaware of the real business conducted here, had tried and died. Those taken alive were never heard from again as they spent the remainder of their years in slave labor camps in distant solar systems. If they had known the building was home to the Raider Lower Council, they would have immediately chosen other targets.

Chairman Arthur Strauss had nodded his approval following the long presentation by new Councilman Neil Soroman, then shifted his body slightly to get more comfortable in the executive chair at the head of the table.

"Earlier, you and I briefly discussed the important matter you wish to present to the Council, Ahil," Strauss said as he looked towards Councilman Ahil Fazid. "You have the floor."

"Yes, Arthur," Fazid replied as he stood up at his seat. "As everyone here knows, for some time we've spared no expense trying to obtain the manufacturing formula for a material being produced under license by one Space Command contractor. The Tsgardi mercenaries we hired to retrieve the cloning equipment on Mawcett were never able gain access to the underground lab where the equipment was stored because the entrance door was made of this material, now known as Dakinium. During a month-long effort, where they used every technology, weapon, and explosive in their possession, they weren't able to break into the lab. In fact, they did nothing more than bend the entrance door sufficiently to pass a microprobe through the crack.

"If I had known about the almost-indestructible material, I would have ordered them to forget about the cloning equipment and bring us a piece of Dakinium instead. However, only Space Command was able to get the material, and it is now being used to sheath all their new spacecraft. Their ships were powerful before— now they're almost unbeatable. If we ever wish to restore the smuggling operation to its former profitability, we must have Dakinium-sheathed ships that can withstand an attack by a Space Command warship and escape unscathed."

"Ahil," Councilwoman Erika Overgaard asked, "are you suggesting we attempt a takeover of Galactic Alliance space as former Council Chairman Gagarin attempted to do?"

"No," Fazid said. "That was sheer folly. Even if he had accomplished the takeover of Higgins, we couldn't have held it. Space Command would have marshaled its forces and driven us out. We never had a chance. All Gagarin succeeded in doing was wiping out a good part of our warship fleet. He also instilled a fierce determination by Space Command personnel to eradicate us once and for all. With one failed major operation after another, we barely survived those years. When the Milori Emperor decided to invade GA Space, it gave us a respite from Space Command's attention and we've been able to return to profitability in most of our operational areas. The loss of our Platinum and Palladium mining operation on Scruscotto was a setback and I don't suppose we'll ever find out what compelled Maxxiloth to attack our base like that. We were doing everything possible to support his fight against Space Command."

"Psychotics make very bad business partners," Councilman Bentley Blosworth said. "They often act irrationally and waste valuable resources with their irresponsible behavior."

"Yes," Fazid said in agreement. "But back to our main topic. Mikel Arneu has succeeded in acquiring a piece of Dakinium."

"Wonderful," Councilman Frederick Kelleher said. "What did it cost us? I believe the appropriation was five billion credits."

"The final cost was under a hundred thousand, not counting the loss of the meeting place we were renting. When SCI burst in, a security alarm was triggered. The technicians working in the lab collapsed the tunnel to their location and escaped through the restaurant above. SCI only collared a bodyguard, who knew nothing about the operation or even that there was a company connection. He was only there as a doorman."

"But what use is it now?" Overgaard asked. "Space Command has defeated both the Tsgardi and the Uthlaro, and annexed their territory. We have no one to build those 'indestructible' ships."

"I've begun negotiations with the Uthlaro. It's true they surrendered and ceded their territory to the Galactic Alliance, but they are still hopeful their fleet can defeat Carver at Quesann. If it does, they'll deny their surrender and we can resume operations as before. We have a sample of the material now, but our scientists still have to reverse-engineer it and develop a manufacturing process to produce it. Space Command did it, so I'm confident we can also."

"Where is the sample now?" Blosworth asked.

"It's on its way to Raider Fourteen. Mikel Arneu is also headed for the base from Raider Nine. As soon as he arrives, he'll begin setting up a new lab. He says it'll be ready to begin operations as soon as the sample arrives. The bad news is that it will take almost three years for the ship carrying the sample to arrive. And it's being conveyed on our fastest ship."