Shadows of Golstar (11 page)

When Owens didn’t respond, Neven went on, “Look, Mr. Owens,
I can well imagine what you’re thinking right now, but I have been given no
latitude on this.  Suffice it to say this request has caused quite a stir
in the Leadership and has opened a number of highly sensitive issues that were
thought long dead and buried. The non-disclosure commitment under the Military
Secrecy Act of '02 transcends the government’s
Most Secret
category and
is the highest information protection authority Confederated Planets now has in
place.”

“It’s just a document,” Owens said. “I could sign it
and still leak the information.”

Neven shook his head, “No. It’s a document with severe
penalties attached, and should you breach your signed commitments, then those
penalties will be applied.” He shrugged, “Besides we‘ve thoroughly screened
your background. We know you honor your agreements and have held a not
insignificant security clearance in the past.”

Owens shook his head, “Commissioner, I’m just asking
for the name of the damned client, nothing beyond that. I really can’t see the
need for all this red tape for one simple question, especially at this
juncture.”

Neven’s voice reflected his own frustration. “All I
can say is that the need for secrecy is of the utmost importance for a number
of reasons which I can’t go into unless you sign those documents. Please
consider your decision carefully.”

Owens was silent, thoughtfully staring at the sheets
lying before him. Finally, he looked up and asked, “What happens if I sign these
and after receiving the pertinent facts, decide against taking the case?”

“Then we’ll release you from your contract, but the
non-disclosure commitment will remain in force as allowed by Article II of the
Act,” Neven quickly answered.
 
“But,” he
added, “I honestly don’t think you will change your mind once you understand
who your prospective client is.” Owens remained silent. “Seeing your
understandable hesitation, why don’t you take the documents now and review them
at your leisure? Then come back and we can finalize the transaction,” Neven
finished.

Staring at Neven, Owens was silent for a few more
moments. To buy some time, he picked up the top document and scanned the first
sheet. He pretended to read the page while his mind wrestled with Neven’s ultimatum.
Owens was no fan of government bureaucracy but understood it as a necessary
evil that kept wheels of civilization rolling. However, he drew the line at
coercion.

He carefully replaced the document back on the desk
and shifted in his seat. He looked directly into Neven’s eyes. His voice took
on a perceptible edge, “So in essence, you want me to sign blindly a contract
and a nondisclosure agreement without any information as to the identity of the
client or even the general nature of the assignment?”

Frowning, Neven nodded, “That’s not exactly the way
I’d put it, but that is about the size of it. Believe me, I am truly sorry but
as a government representative, I cannot say anything more unless you sign
those documents. You must consider our position.”

Owens said, his voice hardening, “Well, I’m sorry too,
but without any useful information on which to base my decision, information of
any
kind, I don’t intend to sign
anything… especially that government contract. No offense, but I’ve seen how
short-term contracts with the government can be extended with the contracted
party having little or no say in the matter. I enjoy the independence of being
my own boss. I’ve been self-employed for some time now, and I’m not about to
report to anyone but a legitimate client. So, if you haven’t already surmised
it, my answer is I respectfully decline your offer, whatever in the hell it may
be.”  Owens rose to leave.

Neven also rose. “I’m sad to hear you’re not willing
to take a chance on this assignment.”

Owens shrugged and extended his hand for a parting
handshake, “What assignment? I don’t know if there even
is
an
assignment. While I’m not above taking a calculated chance, you’re not giving
out enough information to make that calculation. I just can’t see it. No hard
feelings, Commissioner?”

Smiling, Neven said, “Not at all,” and raised his own
hand. 

Owens barely registered the small black ovoid in
Neven’s hand before he lost consciousness.

● ● ●

Owens carefully opened his eyes. He was lying on a
cold, leather couch in what appeared to be another office.  He had a
slight headache, but that was to be expected from getting hit by a neural
shocker. He slowly levered himself into a sitting position and groggily looked
at his wrist-comp. He had been out for a little under two hours. His Loder
physiology had helped reduce the typical interval of around three hours.
Fortunately, it had been set at the lowest level.  Even with his natural
resistance, he could have been rendered unconscious for more than eight hours
had it been switched to the higher setting.

As his mind began to clear, his anger at being
blind-sided grew in proportion. His ire quickly focused on the pompous official
responsible for the cowardly act. He couldn’t believe Neven had, without
warning, the balls to stun him. What could possibly be so important to make a
high-ranking official willing to ignore the government’s own laws and violate a
free citizen’s rights? He knew he couldn’t afford the time to dwell on Neven’s
actions. He needed to get out of there fast and back up to his ship.

He checked himself and found physically, he was almost
back to normal. He thought he might have gained a slight advantage if Neven had
reckoned on him being out for the full three hours. He quickly scanned the
room. It appeared to be an office, slightly smaller than Neven’s. No personal
items were in sight. By the thin layer of dust on the nearby desk and chairs,
it appeared to have been vacant for some time. Nothing was readily apparent
that he could use for a weapon. His eyes shifted to the door and he started to
rise.  He was halfway up when the auto door slid open and a heavily armed
Marine followed by Neven strode into the room. The Marine carried an un-slung
pulse rifle pointed in Owens’ general direction.

“Please, don’t get up,” Neven motioned at him to sit
back down.  As Owens slowly sank onto the couch, Neven grabbed a side
chair from against the wall and pulled it out to face Owens. He fastidiously
dusted it with a handkerchief and gingerly sat down. He looked hard at Owens
and said, “You Loders do match your reputation. You’re quite a hardy bunch,
aren’t you?”  

Owens grimly stared back at Neven. His big hands were
clenched, with the knuckles turning white.    

Ignoring Owens’ lethal look, Neven continued. “It
seems I must apologize to you yet again. I didn’t intend to stun you. I had
arranged for a guard to be outside my door to discourage you from leaving if
you had refused outright to sign the papers. Unfortunately, there was a local
emergency, and I was notified the Marine would be delayed. That was the message
you saw me reading when you came in. Normally, we’re not this disorganized but
this request was totally unexpected, and if I may say so, rather unnerving as
well. When you refused my request... well, I was forced to take matters into my
own hands.”

His voice took on a more earnest tone, “I do want you
to understand I was personally against the first approach. I knew from my
review of your dossier you wouldn’t enter into an agreement without knowing
more. A sane person possessing any reasonable level of intelligence would have
the same very reaction. Alas, career politicians aren’t always known for their
intelligence or tact, for that matter.  Members of the Parliament
committee were adamant that we first try to get you to sign up voluntarily.” He
sighed theatrically, “Since that failed, we are now forced to go to this
admittedly crude level of persuasion.”

“Meaning if I don’t agree to the conditions, you lock
me away until I agree?” Owens asked.

Neven barked out a harsh laugh, “Why no, not at all.
You really must have a very low opinion of your government. Lock you away?
Absolutely not, but knowing your background, I wouldn’t be surprised, if we
were so inclined, you would be just stubborn enough to let us do that, at least
for a while. Unfortunately, this is simply too important to allow you the
luxury of refusing this assignment, even temporarily.” He sighed again. “We’re
forced to resort back to one of the basics; blackmail. I’m sure you’re quite
familiar with this simple concept, especially in your chosen line of work.”

Neven pulled out a hardcopy list from his suit pocket
and then, item by item, spent the next half hour explaining how Owens’ parents’
holdings on Lode would be confiscated, his finances frozen, his  property,
including his ship, seized and impounded and his PI license revoked. Neven
finished by saying, “You know we can do this, and if you force our hand, we
most certainly will.”

Owens looked at Neven in unconcealed exasperation and
in outrage asked, “You’re breaking the fundamental law that protects my rights!
For God’s sake, why, why are you going to these ridiculous lengths?”

At Owens’ outburst, the Marine tensed and started to
step forward. Neven motioned to her to back off. He then nodded, and dropping
out of character responded with a touch of his own exasperation, “Just sign the
goddamn papers and you’ll find out; believe me, it’s the only way you’ll find
out. Otherwise, I’m afraid your family will suffer the consequences right along
with you. Stop being so damn stubborn and just sign it.”

Owens knew he was in a corner and try as he might, he
couldn’t see a way out. He believed Neven was serious in his threat. He had
experienced other forms of official coercion when he was on the force though
nowhere near as blatant or as outright illegal. It was one of the reasons he
left the force for a private practice. He was also familiar enough with history
to know what government officials could and would do in the name of national,
global and stellar security. Citizens’ rights were always the first to suffer
in such circumstances.

He knew he was boxed in, and he could barely constrain
the anger he felt building within. Well, since he couldn’t give Neven a dose of
his own medicine, he instead decided to share his displeasure in another way
and proceeded to tell Neven what he thought of him and the Confederated Planets
ruling government. Neven endured Owens’ tirade without as much as a facial twitch,
though he did seem to pale slightly when Owens described in detail his view on
Neven’s genetic origin.  

After a good five minutes, Owens finally wound down
and in a somewhat hoarse voice, indicated he would sign the damn documents but
under vehement protest. Neven immediately got up and gestured to the Marine.
With Neven in the lead and Owens followed closely by the Marine, they walked
down a short hallway back to Neven’s office. They entered and Owens sat down
before the set of documents still resting on the top of Neven’s desk.

Neven, again behind his desk, pushed a laser stylus
towards Owens. 

Owens said stubbornly, “I’m going to read this before
I sign it. You’re going to have to wait a little longer.”

Neven merely nodded at Owens.

It took Owens about half an hour to read through the
documents while Neven patiently waited. There were no surprises. The two
documents appeared as Neven had presented them. Owens signed them, almost
breaking the stylus with the force of his hard strokes. He heard the whisper of
the office door closing. He quickly turned around and saw that the Marine had
left.  He turned and stared hard at Neven. Then he asked, “Now will you at
least tell me who wants to hire me?”

Neven smiled grimly, “Have you ever heard of Golstar?”

Owens sat back in utter surprise, his anger
momentarily forgotten. Neven’s question was the very last thing that he had
expected. He began, “What kind of question…?” He stopped, and then started
again, “Well… I’ve always thought Golstar was more of a myth than fact, an
adult fairy tale...” He ran a hand through his hair. He was totally caught
off-balance.  

Neven shook his head, “You might be surprised.”

“All I know is it’s been a favorite topic of regulars
of local neighborhood bars for as long as I can remember.” Owens went on, “Of
course I’ve heard my share of stories… everyone has. The majority of them are
obviously the product of the fertile imaginations of people with too much time
on their hands. I chalk most of the stories to be pure fantasy, like ghost
stories told late at night around a campfire. Frankly, the only thing that
appears consistent in the various versions of the tales is that Golstar has
been under a government quarantine edict for the last couple of centuries.”

Neven asked, “The quarantine, do you know why?”

“As to why…” Owens said, “well, I guess that would
depend on which legend you subscribe to. I know some believe that it’s an
ultra-secret testing ground for the military, which I guess wouldn’t be too
hard to believe. However, there are others who believe it’s a source of
incredible wealth the government keeps for itself, and still others think
there’s a race of aliens who are carriers of a terrible disease fatal to humans
with no known cure. There’s even a story it’s haunted by specters of a long
dead alien race.”