Empire & Ecolitan (18 page)

C
OMMANDER
H
ERSNIK HAD
been in his office roughly five standard minutes, according to Jimjoy's calculations, when the Special Operative stepped through the Security portal and into the Commander's outer office. In a single fluid motion, his fingers traced a series of patterns over the interior controls of the portal.

“What…why did…?”

Jimjoy smiled at the orderly. “Security. Very tight security, Lieutenant.”

“I suggest that you unseal that portal, Major—quickly, before the Commander has to summon the necessary assistance.” The Lieutenant's hands were moving toward the small red keyboard.

Thrumm
.

Clunk
.

Jimjoy shook his head as the junior officer slumped over the security console, unconscious. The Special Operative slid around the end of the bank of screens and entered several codes and messages into the system, all indicating that the office was temporarily vacant as a result of a strategy conference and that the Commander would be available at 1500 for his normal appointments.

While there was a risk that Hersnik might be scheduled to meet with a superior, conceivably a Commodore or an Admiral, such immediate postluncheon meetings were rare, or nonexistent.

He smiled as he tapped the access panel.

“Yes?” Hersnik had left the screen blank, but his voice was as annoyingly clear as the last time Jimjoy had visited him.

“Major Wright to see you.”

“Wright…Major Wright…here?”

Jimjoy nodded, then realized that he had left the orderly's screen blank—obviously.

“That is correct. He claims he has some unique information for you, Commander.”

“You're not Jillson!”

“No, I'm Wright? Do you want the information, or do you want to face a court-martial?”

“Court-martial? Who are you kidding, Major?”

Jimjoy sighed, loudly, since Hersnik wasn't the type to appreciate subtleties. “Since when have I ever overstated my case, Hersnik?”

“Commander to you, Wright!”

“Hardly, and not much longer, unless you're willing to listen. And don't bother to try your out-lines. They've all been shunted into a delay loop.”

Jimjoy waited for Hersnik to realize that he was effectively isolated.

“All right, Wright. Come on in.”

Jimjoy smiled at the false levity in Hersnik's tone. The voice patterns told him what he needed to know. As he stepped up to the second portal, the one into the even more secure inner office, he picked up the long-barreled stunner again, touched the access plate, and stepped inside.

Thrumm
.

Thriiiimmm
.

Clank
.

Hersnik was grabbing for the fallen stunner with his left hand as Jimjoy pounced from the portal and swept the weapon away from the Commander's grasp.

“Sit down.”

Hersnik looked at Jimjoy, then at the weapon, then slowly eased back into his seat.

“Keep your hands visible, and listen.”

Hersnik said nothing, but pursed his lips.

“You know, Commander, you really didn't need the stunner,” Jimjoy observed, as he moved to the side where he could see both the consoles and Hersnik's hands. “I really am a loyal Imperial officer, difficult as you seem to be making it for me. And I meant what I said. Check the information on your console under ‘Allen, double eff, star-cross.'”

Hersnik's usually neat black hair was slightly mussed, and there were circles under his eyes.

“That's nonsense…and how did you get here?”

“Not nonsense, and I got here on schedule, as set forth in my orders. Was there some reason why I should not have been able to return on schedule, Commander?”

Hersnik looked blankly at Jimjoy.

“Let's lay those questions aside for a moment, Commander, and get to the reason why I came back so quietly. That happens to be because Commander Harwood Allen is a Fuardian agent, and because he knows I know that.” Jimjoy paused, then shrugged, still watching the Commander's hands and eyes. “And because I really didn't want him to have another shot at assassinating me.”

This time, the Intelligence officer behind the wooden-framed consoles swallowed hard. “Allen…a Fuardian agent? Ridiculous!”

“That's what I thought, even after the first time he tried to kill me, then killed his partner when the Accord locals had him surrounded. That didn't make sense, you know. They would have had to turn the Lieutenant over to the local Imperial representative. So why didn't he want another arm of Imperial authority to know that he was out to kill off an Imperial Special Operative? Unless there was something strange about their mission? Besides, the Accord types already knew that we kill each other off all the time. So it just couldn't have been that he had hush-hush orders to do me in, could it?”

Hersnik said nothing for a long moment, then, rubbing his numb right hand, cleared his throat. “Go on, Major. That is all pure speculation.”

Jimjoy shrugged again.

“When he tried the second time, it seemed rather strange, especially since he usually doesn't work solo. That's probably why his report won't show the second attempt.”

Hersnik raised his eyebrows.

“By then, I'd managed to find out a few things on my own, like his connection to Major Kelb, and his hidden credit accounts, and the gaps in his time accounts and early personal history.”

“Interesting—if true. But what do those things have to do with you? Or with your ridiculous assertion that he is a Fuardian agent?”

“Commander, isn't it obvious? Commander Allen knows that I know about him. He's tried to kill me twice. If I tried a direct return to base, he would have had me either fried in obscurity or locked away in some dark cell forever.” Jimjoy smiled humorlessly. “The options aren't exactly wonderful. I can't desert because Allen leaked who and what I was to every agent within sectors of Accord, and I couldn't come home because some of my own team was laying for me. My only chance was to sneak back here and present the evidence.”

“What evidence, Major? I have yet to see a shred of anything remotely resembling factual evidence.”

“Oh…that. Once I realized what was really going on, that was easy enough to dig up. Bank records, holo shots of Allen with Fuardian muckety-mucks, alterations to service records, even his original birth records, not to mention his off-duty training with the Fuards during his official Imperial leave.”

“You have documentation?”

“Brought you some copies. You can tell how good they are. The originals are safely tucked away. The Fuards have some. But everything will stay safely buried unless, of course, I don't show up back on duty pretty quickly.

“But let's get back to Commander Allen and that code. ‘Allen, double eff, star-cross.' Remember?”

“What nonsense…”

“Commander, no nonsense. Doesn't hurt to look, unless you're in with Allen on this, in which case I'd start running. So don't bother protesting. Key it in. ‘Allen, double eff, star-cross.'”

Jimjoy watched as the Commander laboriously tapped out the codes with his left hand. He refrained from shaking his head at desk-bound officers who were nearly helpless if their right hands were incapacitated.

The Commander's eyes widened as he read the material appearing on the screen. Finally, Hersnik swallowed. “Am I supposed to believe this?”

“You can or you can't. That's your choice. The Admiral will receive his transmission in less than two standard hours, and he'll read it because it will come in under the Imperial star coding. His staff also has the same information, and they will ensure, I suspect, he receives that information in his afternoon briefing. That's in less than an hour.

“There's a timedrop to Galactafax and Stellarview first thing in the morning. I came to alert you, and to request immediate reassignment to field duty.”

“You what?” blurted the Commander. “You think that will change your…destiny?”

Jimjoy grinned once more, widely. “Have to be a gambling man, Commander. My bet is that it will be a lot easier for you to give me an impossible assignment that will probably kill me than to murder me on Service territory and risk a stink, particularly if you think about it.”

“Why don't you just let us make the decisions?”

“I am. Just want to give you the complete picture before you do.” Jimjoy bent toward the Commander. “Look. I'm good at what I do. Hades good. You can use me or not, but there have to be tough problems where you can. I'm not after diamonds and braid. If I disappear now, you risk a stink, and you can see from the information in the packets that it could involve you personally.”

“Me?”

“It's on record that I entered your office, and that you are in charge of both assignments for me and for Commander Allen.” Jimjoy paused, surveying the room and the telltales on the consoles.

“Assuming that the Service were out to…shall we say…make your life difficult…what future insurance would you have that the same preposterous set of circumstances might not occur again, purely through chance?”

“None, except for my own abilities and wits.” Jimjoy smiled tightly, before adding, “And, of course, some insurance that if I disappear, except on assignment, such information as you see there will appear in various media outlets. There would be enough confirming data to make it sticky.”

“Are you through threatening the Service, Major?” Hersnik asked coolly.

“Don't think you understand, Commander. I'm not threatening anyone. I've been threatened. Simply want to do my job, and try to ensure that I have some chance to keep doing it—since it doesn't look like I can do anything else.”

“If you felt so threatened, why didn't you just disappear? You certainly have some talent for it.”

Jimjoy kept his expression impassive. “For how long? How long could I stay hidden with every Imperial agent, and everyone who owes Intelligence something, on my track?”

Hersnik nodded. “So you accept the extent of Imperial Intelligence?”

“Be a fool if I didn't.”

“Then why did you come back? With that power, couldn't Commander Allen have you disappear tomorrow and not ever reappear?”

Jimjoy hid his puzzlement over Hersnik's continued reference to Allen as if the late Commander were still alive. While it was certainly in Jimjoy's favor to act as if Allen were hanging on the other side of the portal, was Hersnik trying to test him? Or could it be that Hersnik didn't know?

“I don't question the Service's power, Commander. My only hope is to set up a situation where it is easier and more profitable to use me than to dispose of me.”

Hersnik nodded once more, as if some obscure fact had become clearer. His fingers tapped the console, but he left them in clear view. “You seem to find the Service untrustworthy on one hand and extraordinarily trustworthy on the other. That's either naive or exploitive on your part, isn't it?”

Jimjoy shrugged. “The Service is trustworthy, at least as an institution, Commander. I have found some individuals less than trustworthy, and I have brought back some evidence of their failures. They seem to be out to stop me from bringing back that evidence, but I seriously doubt that most of the Intelligence Service has ever even heard of one Major Wright, much less concerned itself with his fate.”

The Commander chuckled mirthlessly. “So what do you want? Really want?”

Jimjoy took a deep breath. “Immediate orders to the toughest assignment possible. Preferably as far from Headquarters as practical.”

“How immediate is immediate?”

“Next shuttle off-planet.”

Hersnik nodded again.

Jimjoy found the gesture annoying, but did not react.

“I take it you are worried about Commander Allen?”

“Put it this way, Commander. Either you believe me or you don't. If you do, you're going to detain Allen, and the Fuards will be after me. Or you won't, but you'll tell Allen, and he'll be after me.”

“Commander Allen is an Imperial officer.”

“Commander Allen damned near killed me twice,” responded Jimjoy evenly. “Was he under Imperial orders to do so?”

“Hardly,” answered Hersnik, with a twist to his lips.

Jimjoy could tell that Hersnik was relieved to be able to answer the question truthfully, since Allen had been ordered to kill Jimjoy once, and only once.

“In that case, Commander, you shouldn't find it that difficult to provide me with orders to do my job somewhere.”

“That assumes the Service finds, after an appropriate investigation and inquiry, that your assertions are correct.”

“My life is somewhat more important than your inquiries. Do you intend to give me orders or place me under detention—and face an inquiry yourself, along with me?”

“You leave me little choice, Major Wright. Not exactly for the reasons you thought, however. I cannot afford to turn down your generous offer. We've already lost three operatives on New Kansaw.” He nodded at the keyboard. “May I?”

“In a moment, when I release some of the blocks.”

“You might also be interested to know that we have already discovered the late Commander Allen's double game.”

“Late. Late? You mean he's dead? You already tried and executed him?”

“Not exactly. It appears as though someone else found out first. He was shot through the head with a needler in the combat simulator. It seems as if it might have been done by another inside agent. We have some idea who might have killed him, but it would be impossible to prove, especially now, since the needler used was the Commander's own. It was fully charged, and not for simulator work, either.”

“Then why did you string me along here?”

Hersnik smiled coldly. “Why not? Your entrance was not exactly designed for friendliness, although, in retrospect, I can understand your concerns. At least you appear willing to handle another assignment, and we have a much better lead on the late Commander's demise.