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IDB Headquarters, Avaria
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Clienen Hor’s hologrid image showed him wearing sweaty workout clothing. He was holding a cold bottle of some sort of electrolyte fluid.
“Sorry, sir, for dragging you out of the centrifuge, but we’ve had an escalation of events at the mining site.” Lieutenant Hearter hunched over his tiny cabin desk. His face inches from the holocamera.
“It’s alright, Lieutenant. Dianis is still my planet.”
“Junko has just killed three provincials. Unprovoked. They were defenseless.” Hearter went on to recount the story, starting when the Paleowright priest had begun demanding silver for his cooperation, for his support of having the villagers work the mine.
The director of IDB, Margel Damansk, set his electrolyte bottle on the table beside him. He took a deep breath.
“Clienen, I need you to order me to intervene. It was one thing to watch Junko conscript the provincials into forced labor. It’s another to watch him shoot them. Junko has started killing people. This is the extreme end of what we are here to stop. This is our duty.”
The director stared at the holocamera and then slowly began to shake his head. “This is exactly what Atch was afraid of. Some of us here at headquarters thought he was just paranoid. But everything he predicted is coming true.”
“You mean Chief Inspector Achelous Forushen?”
“Yes.”
“He predicted extrasolars would come to Dianis and start killing people?”
“And worse.” The director didn’t elaborate. “We haven’t proved it’s Nordarken Mining behind the contracts on Dianis. That’s your mission profile.”
“I understand that, but that was before Junko started randomly shooting people.”
Clienen’s lips compressed to a tight line. “That means he doesn’t suspect our presence. He will get sloppy; he’ll lead us to the ultimate contract issuer.”
Hearter shook his head. “To do that, we have to seed the cargo before it leaves Dianis, track it off planet, follow it to the drop-off, stakeout the drop-off, and from there, who knows where? In the meantime, the provincials will still be working the mine, and more of them—” he let his voice trail off. “I know the Matrincy is running the sting, but you have jurisdiction. ULUP charters the IDB on Dianis, not the Matrincy. You can call it off.”
Clienen’s pale blue eyes reflected his pain. Fresh sweat beaded out across his clean-shaven head.
Hearter waited for the director to make a decision. He recognized the background where Clienen sat: the gym in IDB headquarters on Avaria.
“If we act too soon, we’ll have to start the operation all over.” Clienen wasn’t talking to Hearter. He stared off the screen. “We’d have to wait for another contractor to pick up the bid and hope they are as dumb as Junko. Some operators are smoother.” He kept looking off the screen to a place in the direction where Hearter knew the new-feed hologrid displays to be. “Nordarken Mining, if it is Nordarken, will not stop. Not as long as there are contractors willing to take their bid.” At that, he looked at Hearter.
The lieutenant nodded. There were plenty of contractors roaming free space willing to take risks for big payoffs.
“But,” Clienen added, “Dianis is my planet. I was stationed there for five years before— well, before we were ordered to leave. I’ll contact Counselor Margret and have a talk with her. She needs to know the stakes have gone up. We have three dead now. I’ll make it clear to her that my threshold of more killings is low.”
It was Hearter’s turn to look off-camera. “You said things Chief Forushen predicted are coming true?”
“Yes?”
“What else did he predict that we should be prepared for?”
“Well,” Clienen appeared about to hedge but then said, “Do you have a drone over Wedgewood?”
“Hmm, not now.”
Clienen nodded. “I have a recommendation.”
“Yes?”
“Put one there.” Clienen sought to choose his next words carefully, “I am interested if Counselor Breia shows up and engages any of the Wedgewood adepts. Outish, Wedgewood, the adepts, and the Matrincy, they are all tied together in a way that Achelous understood, and we don’t.”
