Surveillance (The Directorate Book 5) Page 4

  A snort from Amsi as he sat. "We need to talk to Icti, get him to clarify that Ajha can't order us around."

  Tayc joined them. "I was thinking about filing a complaint."

  Paer sighed. "Don't. Really, it will look bad on your records. This could easily turn out to be a very high profile project—after it's all done. Glowing reviews should be your goal. Especially high marks for dedication and teamwork. Focusing on the important goals of the project. Not 'troublemaker.' That can ruin your prospects."

  "I shouldn't have to take . . . "

  "Reasonable, sensible orders from an experienced field agent who, by the way, happens to be Director Ajki's nephew?" Paer looked around and sighed at the sudden speculation in their eyes.

  "Ohhhhh. So that's how he got ahead!"

  "No, Tayc. He earned it with hard work in the field. Now, hush. I'm trying to eavesdrop." Paer tried a very soft directional listening spell.

  "Two weeks it'll cruise past the Dinosaur World. No hope of a merge there." Icti drummed his fingers on the table. "Good thing. I was waiting until the last minute to evacuate a scientific team. We'll track how it deviates . . . there's some sort of weak gravitational effect. With luck it'll hit the primitive world, and save us months of worry."

  Ajha was shaking his head. "The population's too small for even the reduced number of surviving Helaos. They'll let it go. Most of their merges were twenty or thirty years apart. They'll most likely wait as long again, to extend their lives, again. Our best hope is that they won't want an extremely high tech world like the One, and they'll also pass it by, hoping for an Industrial Age or Early Information Age world later."

  The Colonel frowned. "That's not . . . "

  "Something we can depend on?" Ajha met his eyes. "Indeed. And that's why we're going to sabotage their mag centers."

  Paer heaved a sigh of relief. Of course. They simply won't be able to merge with us. We just have to find all the mag centers, get into them by stealth or force and BOOM! Problem. Solved.

  Chapter Five

  4 Jumada 1405

  Capitol City, Helios

  The soldiers, like everyone else, were mostly healthy, so when Ajha invited Paer across for the drone survey, she leaped at the chance.

  Paer noted the pale blue bumpy paint. "Low radar profile? And camouflage?"

  "Yes." Hob huffed out an irritated breath. "And low reflectivity. They don't even have any birds over there. So we mostly just hope they don't look up."

  "But we'll get better maps." Ajha handed the drone to Fean. "With infrared overlays to show where the people are concentrating. Where there's power."

  "So . . . are you starting with the high risk areas we know about, or bagging the low risk and then creeping in on the known hotspots?"

  Ajha grinned. "A bit of both. We're flying a grid, for complete coverage, but saving, as you say, the hot spots for the last passes, when we're most likely to be spotted."

  The first look was from a high altitude.

  They rotated the three drones, refueling and dumping their memories every trip across the ruins. They used the corridors and hopscotched across the arc of the Magnetics Centers. Made the last passes over the government buildings and military bases.

  Retired in triumph.

  And started analyzing what they had, and planning the riskier low-level passes over the critical areas.

  Paer kept practicing the light warp, and it did get easier . . . for a half hour or so. She was still the best, and retired each night with a headache.

  She was allowed to sneak up to the government buildings, and take pictures of the entrances, the people, their clothes . . .

  Not many women. And their dress code was definitely different from the men's. Loose gauzy sleeveless blouses, long enough to be nearly tunics. Sash or belt. Baggy loose pants in dark colors, hemmed well above the ankle, flats, some sandals. Not much jewelry. Hair braided up.

  The men, half in uniform, half in something close to "business casual" apart from the untucked dress shirt with the high round collar.

  The fabs had no trouble producing something that would fit in.

  It made sneaking around on the ground much easier.

  They placed camera and directional listening devices wherever they found ruins close enough to places where people congregated.

  Hob decoded their video protocols and their incoming data expanded exponentially.

  "I still can't decipher half their communications." Hob scowled at his screen, where the glorious Helaos soldier were blowing up some weird monsters. "These are just their three civilian channels."

  Paer snickered as a rather non-functional looking sort-of-dinosaur knocked down a modern office building with the swing of a tail. "But a fun way to learn the language. How much do you have recorded? Can we skim it for news broadcasts?"

  The analysts groaned.

  Hioz shook her head. "Did you have to suggest that? Now we'll have to do it."

  Paer grinned. "Work, work, work. Don't you love it?"

  They found an interview of "ErTecno Okenpkoros." All chatty and light, with a pretty hostess asking questions.

  "Techno? A technician, maybe a scientist or engineer?" Offe frowned at the big screen they were all huddled around.

  Another quick exchange, and they paused the recording to translate . . . sort of . . .

  "Something about good information?"

  "Good news?"

  Another sentence . . .

  "Because we can not stop . . . something . . . but we can control it?"

  Paer drew in a quick breath. "The merge? Do they mean that they can't prevent the merge, but they can control it?"

  "Or something else, altogether." Offe played another sentence.

  "Most will go to neos Helios? New Helios?"

  "A colony world?"

  New sentence.

  "But some can remain and something Kleos and something Anastasios?"

  "Glory and resurrection." Hioz muttered. "Is that what they consider merging?"

  Paer bit her lip, and slipped out to find Ajha.

  "Our translation is pretty wobbly, but I think we've found something important enough to get Xen or Q in to hear it."

  ***

  "Shit. It sounds like they have no control over the merge." Q chewed a knuckle. "Did you catch that part about 'since we've slowed too much' and it sounds like they think that instead of ripping a chunk out of their victim, they think they might get trapped."

  Xen sat back, looking worried. "And the stars will return. That's . . . just fine, if only they'd hit an Empty World."

  "If they will merge anyway, those magnetics centers, the shadow zone, will slow the merge."

  "Giving the population a bit of extra time to escape." Wolfson looked over at Ajha. "Tell your people to not sabotage the magnetics centers."

  Chapter Six

  4 Jumada 1405

  Capitol City, Helios

  Paer stared at the science tower. "They don't seem to have much in the way of electronic security. Could we just walk in?"

  Ajha nodded slowly. "The main problem is their low population. They do have guards . . . and I suspect they recognize most of the people who work there regularly."

  Paer nodded. "I look the most like them. How about if I just walk past, and nod to the guards? See if they react."

  "Hey! My skin tones match too, and there's more black-haired people than brunettes." Fean put her binocs to her eyes and looked at the people on the street.

  "Fean, how should I put this? You are spectacularly gorgeous. There is no way they wouldn't remember you, and remember never seeing you before."

  Ajha winced. "She's right. And I'm . . . my features are all wrong. You'd think with all the merges, there'd be more variation."

  Paer pondered the possibility that the Helios shopped for merge victims that fit their concept of attractive. The first merge was an accident. Did they have enough time, the next two, to pick and chose who to merge with?

  "I'll just walk do
wn the street. If anyone pays too much attention, I'll just duck out of sight, warp light and run for it."

  "Take these. In case you get somewhere interesting." Ajha handed her a thin plastic case holding half-a-dozen mini cams, little dots that would compress their recordings and squirt them out once a day.

  Paer slid through a hole in the wall, and walked bent over to stay below a jumble of half walls and rubble. Waited for two men to walk past on a side street, and stepped out. She ambled along, keeping her eyes open, and paused at the main thoroughfare to look through her bag, a sort of purse-like utilitarian thing . . . a trio of women walked past, and she followed them. Nodded and smiled when she caught the eye of one of them. Followed along . . . lagging as they approached the building.

  Maybe act like I've forgotten something? Gotta go back home . . . She looked up from her bag and jolted to a stop centimeters away from crashing into a man who grinned and said . . . something.

  Paer blushed and ducked her head, sweeping her hair back behind an ear.

  The man made a gallant gesture toward the doors of the building.

  Opportunity! The guards will let me in, with this known person . . . who I will have to ditch, real soon. Somehow.

  She trotted up the steps and through the door.

  Thank the One for utilitarian lobbies. Two elevators, and stairs . . .

  Still playing the casually met woman . . . And I really hope the women working here aren't prostitutes! We know so little about the culture.

  She was ushered into the elevator . . . the man's hand hovered over the buttons . . . "Tessera." And I really hope the fourth floor is a reasonable destination . . .

  Then the man grinned and said something she thought involved "Up" and hendeca was eleven . . .

  Did I just get invited into the upper offices? And what am I supposed to do up there? Her pause was apparently enough of an answer. Or maybe her expression. The man pushed a single button.

  Paer was reduced to blushing and ducking behind a curtain of hair as the elevator rose. The man stepped off and ushered her out . . . froze, looking down a hallway.

  Paer eyed the crowd of men. The body language of the ones around that man . . .

  She glanced back at her escort, who was showing signs of panic.

  She gave him a wide-eyed "spooked" look and stepped back into the elevator. He looked relieved, and stepped away. Paer poked a button, low on the panel, warped light and stepped back out as the elevator door closed.

  Smooth enough, apparently. She eased toward the crowd . . . glanced in an open door. A conference room, all cleaned up and ready for a presentation by the blank screen and equipment a young man was fiddling with.

  Paer slid invisibly around the table and placed a mini cam on a rough spot on the wall. I think this is an outside wall, hopefully we can get a signal through the concrete.

  She circled back toward the door. All the men walked in.

  She squeezed into a corner, concentrated really hard on her light warp. Peeled off another mini cam and placed it on the wall to her left. Because I don't think it will record much through the light warp, and I think I'll take it with me, just in case these walls will stop a transmission.

  Most of the men sat. Two stood up and talked. Papers were passed around. A thin bound report of some sort was opened and examined.

  The room lights dimmed, and the screen displayed graphs, charts, pictures . . . Paer squeezed her eyes shut and tried to relax, just hold the warp . . .

  It went on forever. Or perhaps just an hour.

  Then the lights came up. The Important Man stood, received some chest-thump salute-type gestures and walked out. The others followed, leaving the tech to put his equipment away.

  Paer picked off the second minicam and eyed the scatter of papers abandoned on the table. She stepped closer, looked for watchers, waited until the tech turned away and grabbed the bound report. Slipped it into her bag. Then out the door. A few men here and there, no one in front of the elevators. She walked down the hall, stepping into two other rooms to place minicams.

  She pushed the button to summon the elevator. Would they notice that no one got off? Oops. She dodged a man who did get off. She stepped in. Pushed the lowest button.

  The door closed and the elevator lurched downward. She placed a minicam there as well. Released the light warp and sagged against the wall. She walked out at the bottom to a fortunately familiar utilitarian lobby. Tried not to stagger as she walked to the front door.

  Someone called, behind her. She ignored him and kept walking.

  Ajha and Fean fell in beside her, steered her through ruins and the gate. Into the electronics crawler.

  "Oh my head! I think I held a light warp for an hour. Did you get anything from the minicams? This is one I brought out with me, here's a report, now I have to go die."

  Something wet and cold was pressed into her hands, and a chair hit the back of her knees.

  Booster had never tasted so good. She put her head down on the table, and watched the flashing pain in her head throb in rhythm with her pulse.

  Winced at a loud whoop, and jerked her eyes open.

  Ajha was grinning, and wiping a tear. "That was the head dimensional researcher reporting to ArcHelios Nikostratos that they were going to shave by the dinosaur world and definitely hit a world with a scatter of primitive hunter-gatherer tribes. The boss man expressed regret that they'd eliminated the high tech world."

  Paer blinked. "They aren't going to hit the One World?"

  "Nope. We're safe. Not that we won't be double checking, but I think we're safe." Ajha collapsed into another chair. "Now we can treat this like a more ordinary study of another culture."

  Offe looked around with a frown. "A belligerent, dangerous culture."

  "Oh definitely."

  "I want to find out if they have working gates." Paer rubbed her temples. "I wondered if that was how they saved some of their tech. They could move it to a third world, maybe that Neos Helios, and move it back after each merge. It would be sensible for them to have a working gate there. Or another working gate. Maybe they have a new colony every time they merge."

  Ajha grinned. "That's an excellent point. I hope everyone stays healthy. Either that or I'll have to organize a large enough group to go across that I can justify taking a medic."

  Fean snickered. "If we can lower the security for the project, we'll be getting a bunch of people over here. Big expeditions. Oh, and no doubt we'll need a gate to that Primitive World they think they'll hit . . . I need to see about organizing this before it turns into a mess . . . "

  "Right. Well, take a good long nap, Paer. I'm going to send the good news up the chain." Ajha grabbed his comp and started typing.

  Paer reeled to her feet, staggered out and over to the next crawler.

  The analysts followed her.

  "Whoa, Paer. That was awesome. How did you get in there?" Hioz was grinning and bouncing.

  Offe opened the door for her.

  Paer grinned. Respect? Wonder how long it'll last. "Hey, it's all in a day's work for a Teamer."

  What I'm Reading

  Mira's Last Dance By Lois McMaster Bujold. The latest Penric installment. Someday I'm going to sit down and read them all in order, instead of months or years apart.

  Larry Correia's Into the Storm. Really, I hadn't realized he'd gone full Steam Punk Fantasy. Not that Hard Magic wasn't close, but . . . Well, another book full of action. I'm halfway through, and there's a sequel, and what's this Warlock Sagas . . . man, I need to keep up. This guy's as bad as trying to keep up with John Ringo!

  To Truckees Trail by Celia Hayes is a meticulously researched story about several families pulling up stakes and heading for California in the 1840's. Based on real people, it's not my usual fare, but I got curious because of family history. If you like westerns, but want a solid dose of reality with it, check out Celia's work.

  About the Author

  I was born and raised in California, and have lived m
ore than half my life now in Texas.

  Wonderful place. I caught almost the first bachelor I met here, and we’re coming up on our thirty-seventh anniversary.

  My degree's in Geology. After working for an oil company for almost ten years as a geophysicist, I “retired” to raise children. As they grew, I added oil painting, sculpting and throwing clay, breeding horses, volunteering in libraries and for the Boy Scouts, and treasurer for a friend’s political campaign. Sometime in those busy years, I turned a love of science fiction into a part time job reading slush (Mom? Someone is paying you to read??!!)

  I've always written, published a few short stories. But now that the kids have flown the nest, I'm calling writing a full time job.

  Directorate School was my seventeenth novel, and first in the spin-off series, of which this is the fifth story. I've six more in the works.

  I've got two new books in the Wine of the Gods Universe under way, and then a third "Zoey Ivers" book in the Doors series. And three stories that aren't connected to anything else. So I may try to squeeze in a few more titles before the end of the year.

  I need to find the time to get more books out in print, out to Kobo, Sony, B&N . . . I need to find the time to invent a time machine . . .

  Email pamuphoff@gmail.com to join the mailing list for notifications of new releases

  Other Books by Pam Uphoff

  Wine of the Gods Series:

  Outcasts and Gods

  Exiles and Gods (Three Novellas)

  The Black Goats

  Explorers

  Spy Wars

  One Alone

  Comet Fall

  A Taste of Wine (Seven Tales)

  Dark Lady

  Growing Up Magic (Four Novellas)

  Young Warriors

  God of Assassins

  Heirs of Crown and Spear