Skies Over Tomorrow: Constellation (10 page)

Felix calmed himself enough to realize that he could not fret over that guard, or the part he played; he was not important. Instead, he focused on McBride; her testimony could prove to be more valuable than the surveillance disc. Still, though he knew she was a small player in the big scheme of things, his flesh crawled at the thought that she may affirm a renegade faction mobilizing to challenge the Federation.

Egressing from the travel-way connector, he drove down the main parkway a few meters in the opposite direction of the storage facilities, toward troops' quarters. The lineal complexes were three stories and spanned several hundred meters. The buildings were lined up row after row with sub-streets running between them from the main road. The UT slowed as it neared building L; once Felix was certain of the building McBride lived in, he made a right turn and slowed the UT to a crawl. The even-numbered quarters were on the left, and after passing 230L, he parked. Felix got out and eyed the area. While some people jogged from one end of their building to the other, others were just lounging about. No one, however, seemed to pay him any attention.

Felix looked up to McBride's dwelling and saw her peeking from closed blinds. He then bent over into the cockpit of his transport and programmed the vehicle to return home. He further instructed it to return to McBride's housing complex after his wife finished with it. When it was set, he stood upright and approached an open stairway, and as the UT drove off, he climbed the stairs that ended near the living quarters of Private McBride. Having reached her residence, Felix stood close to the door and pushed its ringer, and then checked the time: 14:16. He depressed the ringer again. The door unlocked and slid open with a hiss, revealing the MAC soldier disheveled and recovering her breath.

“What happened?” said Felix, entering and seeing the disorder of the front room.

“This is the price for being careless,” she said, closing the door.

“Because of blundering the video disc you falsified?”

McBride, with a culpable look, turned away in silence.

“Well, this is my fault,” said Felix. “I should have cleared your post. If I had done that, and your comrade had not seen me trying to get into the security vault, then he probably wouldn't have suspected that I knew what you did and reported it.”

“He told you that I had the only key card, right?”

“That's what he said.”

“True, there's only one key card, but at the end of our shift we're to sign it over to the next person.”

“Is everybody in MAC involved in this conspiracy?”

“I don't know.”

“Are you sure?”

“I'm sure your people are involved.”

“What do you mean? A GDI agent did this?”

“Yeah.”

“McBride, I want to help, but you'll have to be truthful.”

“What? Do you think I'm lying?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then take a look in the bedroom and tell me: Is that or isn't that one of your agents?”

Felix overstepped shattered glass and an overturned table and went to the bedroom. He stopped at its entrance and saw the room was in the same disorder as the front. He was shocked to recognize the limp, GDI associate on the bed.

“I used his com-link to look you up,” said McBride. “I hope you weren't friends.”

“Is he dead?”

“Yes. He had me trapped in the corner. I think he was trying to use that Venom Gun you guys carry, but it malfunctioned.”

“It's likely the SRM was damaged during the altercation.”

“Yeah, well, I rushed him, broke his arm at the elbow, snapped his neck, and flipped him over where he landed on the bed like that.”

“Was that level of force necessary?”

“My life was being threatened. I just reacted,” she said, adding quickly, “As I am trained to do.”

“I understand.” Felix turned away from the room. “Well, I guess I can forget about recovering the surveillance disc. I'm sure it's been destroyed and replaced by now.”

“What will I do?”

Felix looked at McBride.

“My life is over,” she said. “I'm not even deserving to wear this uniform anymore.”

“Listen,” he said, “you're the only tangible lead I have going with this investigation. You can help me.”

“Ha! Help you? Help you do what? Save the Federation? You don't understand, do you? I'm just like you, a pawn. The only difference between you and I is that I have betrayed the Federation. How could I possibly help you? How can you even possibly help me?”

“McBride, please, I need your help.”

“And I thought I was naïve,” she said, helplessness creeping into her voice. “There is nothing I can do.”

“Yes, there is. Just tell me what you know, and I mean everything you know.”

McBride went into the bedroom, and when Felix realized she intended to disrobe, he averted his eyes. “What do you know of the Federation's policy toward Earth?” she said.

“The Federation has promised to help Earth establish a new global infrastructure.” With his back to her, his hand slipped under his coat to activate the voice-recorder. “One that would bring it out of a technological dark age. Even now it's a couple of centuries behind us, and it'll be another hundred years before it can even begin to catch up. Everybody knows this, so what does this have to do—”

“Some there feel the United Nations of Earth shouldn't be dealing with the Federation.”

“I'm listening,” said Felix.

“They've organized, and call themselves the ENA.”

“ENA?”

“Earth's Native Army.”

“The growing army you mentioned in the cargo hold?”

“Yes,” said McBride. “Are you starting to see the picture?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“The Federation is running low on resources, as well as room for its citizens,” she said, “and it wants every M class planet it can inhabit. On top of that, if they can get hold of Earth, then they can stop the UNE from supporting the Morrillian revolt while clipping a neighboring threat in the bud.”

“You've been to Earth, haven't you?”

“Yes, a few times. Time has really healed the planet since its last world war, and now that it's about to come out of an ice age, nature is reasserting itself with a vengeance.”

“Surely there was more to your visiting Earth, other than for its ecological recovery.”

“The handful of times I have been to Earth, it was with my squad. We made drop-offs to the ENA.”

“What?”

McBride, dressed in sweat pants and a T-shirt, came to the entrance of the bedroom and loitered in its opening. “I've seen the ENA,” she said, as Felix turned to face her, “and they are barbaric in appearance, but very dignified. They are prepared to fight for Earth.”

“Fight by terrorizing the UNE?”

“Not just the UNE, Detective Ilom, but the Federation as well, or so the Federation will claim as our outpost there becomes beleaguered from terrorist attacks. We're giving weapons and supplies to the ENA so they can not only weaken the position of the UNE, but also be formidable enough to threaten the Federation. When that happens, we will be justified in declaring war on Earth.”

“What about the war with Morrilla? And we've just suppressed the rebellion on Sync.”

“Those insurrections will be just footnotes in the history of the Federation when compared to the war to come between Mars and Earth.”

“Is that what you mean by us—the Federation clipping a neighboring threat in the bud?”

“Yes.”

“Well, we can't let a few corrupt individuals sabotage the ideals of the Federation.”

“Face facts, will you?” said McBride. “If your people are supporting this, then so is the High Council.”

“That may be true, but we'll have to take a chance in finding out who can be trusted. We must do what we can to uphold the virtues of the Federation before it becomes too contaminated to do anything about.”

“I'm afraid it's too late.”

“Have some hope,” said Felix, as he moved to the window and peeked past the blinds. “If it counts for anything, this isn't as bad as I had thought.” McBride looked at the agent with silent contempt, as he said, “I thought Mars was in for a coup of its own. Still, we've become a menace to their plans now. With me being the bigger threat, they won't have to worry about you as much.”

Sliding down against the doorsill, the private exhaled as she sat, better understanding the detective's initial comment of her predicament, though she thought it to be grave despite the comfort found with his support.

“We'll have to wait here awhile until my transport returns,” he then said, “and it seems you have more visitors. It's the GFE.” There was a ping from the entry panel, and McBride stood. Felix waved his hand at his side, signaling her to step back into the bedroom. “Close the door,” he said in a whisper. The doorbell pinged again as the private closed herself off in the sleeping area.

Felix answered the door and faced two Enforcers, one standing behind the other. His authority over them allowed him to look them in eye with confidence. The one in the rear looked over the shoulder of his colleague, past the GDI agent, and assessed the quarters' disarray.

“Is everything okay?” the one in front said.

“Everything's fine,” said Felix.

“Then you're still in the process of correcting the slip-up?”

“Yes, I was about to set up the accident.”

“Sorry for interfering,” the Enforcer to the rear said, “but a residential disturbance call was reported, so we're just responding appropriately.”

“I understand. She was a little tougher than I expected, but I've control of the situation.”

By their approving nods, they were pleased.

“Well, I'll need to finish up here,” said Felix.

“Understood,” the one in front said.

“And we'll report the situation as normal,” said the other.

“Yes, do that.”

The Enforcers walked away, and as Felix was about to close the door, the trailing military policeman stopped and looked back over his shoulder.

Felix nodded once and closed the door. He went to the window and opened the blinds slightly to see the two Enforcers leave in their vehicle. Upon their departure, he reached under his coat and stopped the voice-recorder. “McBride,” he said, moving away from the window while pulling out a pair of elastic gloves.

The door of the bedroom opened, and the private came out. “What now, Detective Ilom?”

“First, we clean up this place,” he said, pulling one latex covering over his right hand. “Then we find you a very deep, deep hole to hide in.”

“There's nowhere to hide.” The dejection on McBride's face was as evident as it was in her voice.

“Trust me,” Felix then said as he fitted the other glove to his left hand. “Now, let's straighten this place up.”

The shards of glass were swept up, and the broken table, chairs, and sofa were placed against the window wall. While McBride vacuumed the floor, Felix moved into the bedroom and arranged the dead GDI agent in the fetal position. He checked the agent's com-link, and deleted the record of the call McBride had made to his quarters. He even went so far as to hack access to and purge the record of the call from the GDI communications satellite. Having severed a traceable link between himself and McBride, he tossed the phone on the bed with the body and recovered the agent's ID card. He was Special Agent Omar Jenkins; the detective slipped the badge into a coat pocket, and then went to rectify the disorder of the bedroom, placing a clock and table lamp with a blown bulb in a corner, along with pieces of what looked to be a table stand. When the room was orderly, he moved to the lavatory.

In the washroom, there were bandages and a lot of blood around the basin of the sink, and a bloodstained plank on the floor. Having picked up the splinter soused in red and looked it over, Felix went to the to the front room—to the private—observing along the way some blood-trace in the threshold where earlier she had lingered. The soldier was hanging up her coats, facing away from him, when he saw blood seeping through her shirt. “McBride, your back.”

“I'll live,” she said, reaching back to her lower right and pulling on her shirt a little, feeling some saturation against her skin. “I wasn't able to correctly place the bandage.”

“He must have slammed you pretty hard on the table,” Felix said, moving to her. When she gestured accedence to him lifting her shirt, with a couple of small backward steps to him, he paused. “It's all right if I—will you—allow me to me fix the dressing.” The private grasped her shirt, capturing the hem and bunching it up around her waist, exposing her lower torso. Felix, with the splinter still in hand, readjusted the pad such that there was pressure on the wound. “That should do for a while.”

“Thank you,” McBride said, lowering her shirt.

“You're welcome, and you should change your shirt.”

Felix returned to the bathroom, and while walking through the sleeping area, he flung the fragment from McBride's injury into the corner with the other pieces of the table. Once back in the lavatory, he wiped up the blood and washed down the sink. Afterwards, all of the stained dressings and unclean cloths, including those in the compactor, were gathered into a bundle, taken into the bedroom and tossed on the bed, leaving the dead agent covered in parts. Felix then went back to the front room and spied out the window. “My transport is here,” he said. “I'll be right back.”

The detective went down to his UT, opened a side compartment and retrieved a black case. As he returned to 236L, he looked about; again, no one looked to him. Then he noticed Jenkins' UT, and went to it. Using the agent's ID to access the vehicle, he bent into the cockpit and instructed the vehicle to return to headquarters. When his command took and he stood to return to McBride's quarters, the transport closed itself, reversed from its parking space and drove off.