Never Surrender (The Empire's Corps Book 10) (26 page)

She rubbed her forehead, then sat back in her chair.

“Colonel, I have some information from local files,” another operative said.  “There are only thirteen official residents at the orphanage, not counting the five caregivers.  The youngest is fourteen, so they may be hoping the place can be closed in a few years.  However, two of the caregivers are married and have young children.  The suits she bought might have been intended for them.”

Kitty nodded, slowly.  “Why are the children still there?”

There was an embarrassed pause.  “The files suggest that the children have ... severe behaviour problems,” the operative said.  “They’re only allowed to remain there on sufferance; five of them have arrest records, while three of them ... may have been abused while they were younger.  I don’t know for sure, but I suspect the problem was just swept under the rug.”

He swore, just loudly enough for Kitty to hear.  “These things don’t
happen
on Avalon!”

“Evidently they do,” Kitty said.  “If five of the children have arrest records, why weren't they sent to work camps?”

“I don’t know,” the operative said.  “The files are sealed; I don’t think I could get inside without a court order.  They may have been flogged instead, or simply given stern warnings and sent home.  Their exact legal status is a little vague.”

“And so we allowed this problem to fester,” Kitty mused.  She shook her head.  “Get in touch with a judge and put in a request for a court order.  I think they should grant it for us.”

She closed the channel and looked at the files.  There was little there, beyond a series of incident reports, but reading between the lines it was clear they hadn't been arrested.  Avalon had a tendency to hold parents responsible for their children, yet the orphans
had
no parents, not any longer.  She sighed, tiredly, then settled down to wait.  There would be time to attend to the injustice later.

“Garston and Six are heading to the Disco Infernal,” Five reported.  He snickered, none too politely.  “They look like a happy young couple.”

“Good,” Kitty said.  “Keep an eye on them.”

She turned her attention to her work, but listened with half an ear to the stream of reports from the disco.  Garston and Six danced for nearly two hours, then headed back to his apartment.  It was another two hours before Six emerged, looking tired, and hailed a cab, which took her directly back to base.  Kitty was waiting for her with a mug of coffee and a questioning expression.

“He’s not bad,” Six said, with a grin.  “He ...”

“I wanted to know about his work, not how good he is in bed,” Kitty snapped.  “What did he tell you about himself?”

“Very little,” Six said, “but his apartment has quite a few books about chemical substances and how they can be mixed together.  He gave me a story about studying chemistry when I asked ...”

“He could be trying to build a bomb,” Kitty mused.  Guns and ammunition were plentiful on Avalon, but explosives weren't so easy to obtain.  “Does he have any hope of success?”

“I don’t know,” Six said.  “He could have obtained the materials or ... he might have been unable to proceed past the design stage.  I do think, however, that Wolfbane could have provided him with a real bomb.”

“Assuming they
want
him to blow himself up,” Kitty pointed out.  “What did you make of him?”

“Repressed anger issues,” Six said.  “He remained calm, but I could tell he was on the verge of exploding every time he was defied, even minimally.  I suspect that might have been why he had problems holding down a job before now.  I’d recommend primal scream therapy if I was a psychologist.”

Kitty ignored her.  “Wolfbane might wish they had someone more reliable in place,” she said, thinking out loud.  Resentful people could be manipulated, but they could also be dangerously unpredictable.  “Someone with anger problems might explode at the wrong time.”

“I could jerk around with him a bit,” Six said.  She shook her head.  “He’s good at being charming and caring; I could have liked him if I hadn't been meeting him ... professionally.  My feeling, though, is that he will quickly become a nasty controlling, if not abusive, boyfriend.  I think he hasn't had a long-term relationship in the past because he’s driven his prior girlfriends away.”

“It sounds likely,” Kitty agreed. 

She sighed.  “I’ll talk to the colonel, if the message is sent tonight,” she continued.  “We might have nothing to gain by leaving them both in place, seemingly untouched.  I assume there was no attempt by anyone to touch base with him?”

“I saw nothing to suggest it,” Six said.  “But he wouldn't be stupid enough to tell me just what he was doing ... unless I posed as someone useful.”

Kitty nodded.  “You gave him your student identity?”

“Yep,” Six said.  “I could probably get files for him or some shit like that, but I don’t think he’d consider it helpful.”

“Get some rest,” Kitty said, instead.  “I’ll speak to the colonel in the morning.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

The Empire’s treatment of POWs was always a sticking point in the later days of the Empire.  Unlike many pre-space human powers, the Empire never faced a genuine peer power.  There was, therefore, no incentive to treat POWs decently.

- Professor Leo Caesius. 
The Empire and its Prisoners of War.

Passing Water,
Wolfbane System, Year 5 (PE)

“Transit complete,” Stewart reported.  “We have arrived.”

Jasmine nodded.  It was silly of her to tense up as they dropped out of phase space, but she hadn't been able to help it.  The sense of being in enemy territory surrounded her, even though she
knew
the Wolves were light-hours away.  There was little chance of being intercepted as they emerged from phase space.  Hell, it would be hours before they were even
detected
.  But she still felt tense.

“Send the pre-planned signal to System Command,” she ordered.  “And then take us into the system.”

“Bad idea,” Frazier said, quickly.  “They won’t be expecting us to report in so quickly.”

Jasmine gave him a sharp look.  “You could have mentioned that earlier.”

“Civilian freighters like mine resent having to declare themselves to anyone,” Frazier said.  “Most will not send any IFF until after they are deep within the system - and some won’t announce themselves until they are actually challenged.  You’re going to make yourselves look suspiciously efficient.”

“Belay that order,” Jasmine told Stewart.  “But keep a careful eye on the sensors for any signs of trouble.”

She forced herself to sit back in her command chair as the displays started to fill with tactical data.  Wolfbane was a
busy
system.  Maybe not as busy as Earth, AlphaCent or Washington Prime had been, before the Stalkers had been banished from the Core Worlds, but busy enough to worry her.  Countless freighters headed in and out of the system, while IFF signals pulsing through space revealed the location of hundreds of asteroid mining stations and industrial nodes.  It was hard to be sure - civilian-grade passive sensors were pathetic - but she suspected that Wolfbane had two or three times the combined economic might of Avalon, Corinthian and Thule.

“Got a trio of warships heading out,” Gary said, from the console he’d worked hard to learn how to use.  “I think.”

Jasmine stood and paced over to his console, peering over his shoulder.  “Looks that way,” she said.  “Three cruisers, at a guess.  We got any matches in the files?”

Gary shook his head.  “Nothing.”

“They could be reengineered,” Watson offered.  “Not new-build, just changed enough to confuse the files.”

“They could be,” Jasmine agreed.  She rather hoped they were, but she knew better than to count on it.  Avalon had achieved miracles by taking technology past the limits the Empire had believed to be unbreakable and there was no reason Wolfbane couldn't do the same, now they knew the impossible was now possible.  They’d seen force shields in action at Thule, where they’d been a nasty surprise.  “Keep an eye on them and let me know if their power curves change dramatically.”

“Aye, Captain,” Gary said.

Jasmine rolled her eyes, then turned and walked back to her viewscreen.  New icons were springing into view all the time; some clearly identified, others nothing more than a radio source hooked up to something the Wolves considered important.  Most of them were centred around Wolfbane itself, but a distressingly high number were orbiting the gas giant and several more seemed to be floating in interplanetary space.  Jasmine stroked her chin as more and more data poured into the computers, wishing she had a proper analysis staff with her.  It was impossible to escape the feeling that she was missing something, simply through being unable to interpret all the data.

“He was talking about setting up extra cloudscoops,” Stubbins said, from where he was sitting against the rear bulkhead.  “I think he must have done it.”

“There’s nine separate structures orbiting the gas giant, if I understand correctly,” Jasmine said, slowly.  “And it looks as though they’re building two more.”

“They’re going to run out at this rate,” Kailee said.  She was seated next to Gary, looking alternatively bored and nervous.  “We kept being told to conserve natural resources on Earth.”

“There’s enough gas in a gas giant to keep the entire sector powered for hundreds of thousands of years,” Paula snapped.  She’d never seemed to like Kailee, for some reason.  “Even Earth could have supported itself for millions of years, just drawing fuel from Jupiter or Saturn.  They told you that to keep you from wondering why you weren't allowed infinite power supplies.”

Jasmine shot her a warning look, then returned her gaze to the viewscreen.  The constant inflow of data worried her, even though she knew the Wolves were unlikely to be concerned about civilian-grade sensors. 
She
was used to covering her tracks, where possible; to see what looked like a blatant lack of concern for security was alarming.  And yet ... she knew there was nothing that could
hide
the system from civilian-grade sensors, let alone a spy ship with mil-spec gear.  The Wolves might be wise not to try.

“I think that’s another warship,” Gary offered.  “She just crossed the phase limit; she’s currently heading into the system.”

“Put it on the main display,” Jasmine ordered.  A new red icon snapped into existence.  She sucked in her breath as she saw it, then shook her head.  “If that isn't a battleship, I’ll eat my hat.”

“It’s a battleship,” Watson confirmed.  “Pity, really; I hear they infused flavours into our hats to make them easier to chew, when we ran out of rations.”

Jasmine fought down the urge to make a rude gesture and, instead, looked at Stubbins.  “I think the system has changed considerably,” she said.  “How many of your contacts are still in place?”

“I have no way to know,” Stubbins said.  “I’d need access to their datanet and then see what names I recognised ...”

“We won’t get that at this distance,” Watson said.  He shot Paula a warm glance that made Jasmine smile inwardly.  “I’d be surprised if they let us shoot queries into their datanet from an asteroid - or a ship.”

“Then we need to get down to the planet,” Stubbins said.  “I should still have contacts there.”

“We’ll see,” Jasmine said.  They were still light-minutes from Wolfbane, but the sheer output of radio signals suggested the system was an order of magnitude more heavily defended - and policed - than Corinthian.  Slipping down to the planet might be impossible, even for highly-trained Marines.  “But I think we need a base camp in the system first.”

A low chime rang.  “We just got pinged,” Watson snapped.  “Fairly standard challenge, doesn't seem to have changed from the pre-independence days.  Send us your IFF or else, etc, etc.”

“Send them the IFF,” Jasmine ordered.  “And then keep a sharp eye on them.  If they decide they want to inspect the ship, we will have no choice but to hope we can bluff it out.”

She sighed, inwardly.  The freighter hadn't been
designed
as a q-ship, which would make life easier if the Wolves
did
decide to board, but there was a great deal of equipment on the ship that would, at best, result in them having to answer a number of hard questions.  She’d done her best to hide it, then rig up passenger manifests that would account for the entire crew, yet she knew a careful search of the ship would be disastrous.  If the searchers proved too thorough to be tolerated, they would have to fight their way out ... and, in a lumbering freighter, that might be impossible.

It was nearly an hour before they received a second challenge.  “They want to know where we’re going,” Watson said.  “I take it they wouldn't be happy with Wolfbane?”

“They’d want to search us before we entered orbit,” Frazier confirmed.  “Send the planned signal, I think.”

Watson looked at Jasmine, who nodded.  “Signal sent,” he said.  “Let’s see what sort of wankers they are, shall we?”

“There’s no choice,” Jasmine said.  “But let us pray for lazy wankers.”

She smiled inwardly, although she knew it wasn't funny.  Customs officers, in her experience, were either officious bureaucrats or outright thieves.  The former were very good at coming up with legal reasons to levy fines, while the latter tended to take what they liked in exchange for letting the freighter pass through the net.  It was something of a marvel that there had been
any
independent freighters at all; the bigger corporations had the clout to remove particularly unpleasant customs officers, while independents were at their mercy.  She had a feeling it was why so many independent freighters had made their way out to the Rim, escaping the Fall of Earth. 

And the Trade Federation will probably prevent any planet from developing its own problem children
, she thought.  Professor Cassius had gone on about it at length, the last time Jasmine had joined him and his family for dinner. 
Free Trade will do more to ensure economic growth than anything else.

She sighed, then looked at Paula.  “What sort of trade policies did Brown have?”

“He was a corporate rat,” Stubbins growled, before Paula could say a word.  “I don't think he ever did anything unless it was in the interests of the corporations.”

“There’s a small tax on everything imported to Wolfbane,” Frazier said, unexpectedly.  “But there aren't any taxes on anything
exported
.  I was never sure why.”

“Economics,” Paula said.  She looked irked.  “The Governor wants Wolfbane to be the sole source of everything from starship components to weapons, at least in this sector.  By not taxing exports, he provides incentives to export goods ... and keep the prices relatively low, thus making it hard for any other planet to compete.  Once he has a monopoly, he can jerk around with the prices at will, keeping people in line without any need for military force.”

Jasmine blinked in surprise.  “He can't expect that to work!”

“It can and it does,” Paula said.  “People find it easy to define why military threats should be resisted, but it’s a great deal harder to explain to one’s population why they shouldn't have access to cheap goods.  Wolfbane has a head start on the rest of the sector, allowing it to produce much more far cheaper than anywhere else.  Given time, they can flood the market and utterly destroy competition.”

“Well,” Watson said, into the silence.  “I never thought of it like that.”

“You were trained to apply naked force in the interests of whatever policy your ultimate superiors believed to be necessary,” Paula said.  “Governor Brown’s sphere, however, is economics.  He thinks in terms of applying pressure rather than naked force.”

“He was prepared to invade the Commonwealth,” Jasmine said.

“I suspect he thought of you as a long-term threat,” Paula said.  “Besides, grinding you down might make you more willing to dicker with him on his terms.”

She opened her mouth, then paused as the console bleeped.  “They're telling us that we will be intercepted before we reach our destination,” Watson said.  “We’re going to be searched.”

“That tears it,” Stewart muttered.

“Not quite,” Jasmine said.  She glanced at the console, silently calculating the trajectories and the timing in her head.  “We planned for this, didn't we?  And we have at least three hours before the inspection crew gets here.”

She rose to her feet and smiled.  “Let’s get to work,” she added.  “I want to be nothing more than a harmless freighter by the time the bastards arrive.”

“Better have a bribe ready too,” Frazier added.  “They may think nothing of ordering us to report for a more thorough search in the shipyard if we don’t offer them a fairly substantial bribe.”

Jasmine nodded.  It all depended on just how paranoid the Wolves were feeling.  There should be nothing to connect
their
freighter with the one that had gone to Meridian -
Passing Water
was one of thousands - but if they were paranoid enough to insist on DNA tests, the crew would be in hot water.  The Wolves
had
taken DNA readings from the POWs before shipping them to Meridian - she assumed they had records for Stubbins, Paula and Frazier too - and if they had them included in their datafiles ... she sighed inwardly, then put the thought aside.  Even if they had had the gear to spoof such devices, it would have taken longer than they had to re-sequence their DNA before arriving at Wolfbane.