WriteStuff

Out in the depths of space is a star that burns with a soft yellow light. Perhaps it was that light that drew the colonists at first. Perhaps it was Baila, the earth-like world that orbited the star. Or used to orbit it. Used to orbit it before the Markans came.

It was, of course, a period of civil unrest. It always is when tragedy takes place. Don’t ask me why, it just always is. The Markan party had just been defeated for control of the Congress and the hot-heads struck with military force. Where they go the ships from no one knew. What we did know was that the Markans had destroyed Rampar, the homeworld of the Feran party. That and that Baila was in the path of the Markans.

I had just landed a few days before, sent from Terra to investigate the disappearances of some government officials. How I was expected to help, I didn’t know. I remember stepping off the shuttle and looking up at the sky. It was different, that sky. I’ve never seen anything quite the same. Baila is closer to the galactic center than Terra, so the stars are brighter and there are more of them, almost like a handful of diamonds thrown across the cosmos. That wasn’t all, though. There was something different in the atmosphere and the sky was a deep purple. It was absolutely breathtaking. Not that I had that much time to admire it.

A man in the uniform of the Congress met me on the landing field next to a shiny groundcar. He saluted, then looked puzzled when I didn’t return it. “I’m not from the military,” I said. A touch irritably I’ll allow, but it’s tiring when everyone assumes an Inspector has military rank. Someone once asked me what the difference was. I ask questions first and shoot later. That’s the difference.

The man relaxed a little. I guess they don’t breed familiarity into the soldiers anymore. “If you will get in, sir,” he said, gesturing toward the car, “they’re waiting for you.”

I muttered an oath as I climbed into the backseat. The car was nice enough, I supposed. Hardly what I was accustomed to on some of the older worlds. The oath was for them, not the car. The planetary council was waiting for me. They would be a bunch of spineless politicians trying to act like big-shots and impress me. They wouldn’t. After you’ve addressed the Congress not much impresses you.

I didn’t pay much attention on our way into the city. I caught glimpses of rolling, brush-covered hills as the groundcar sped by. When we reached the city, the soldier turned on a siren. The city was a collection of slender towers that shimmered in the starlight. Baila had no moon, but the stars gave plenty of light.

The car screeched to a halt in front of the tallest tower. As soon as I stepped out the man was ushering me into the tower, through a plain-looking lobby, and into a bank of tubes. I was a trifle annoyed by the rush. Usually I took a little time to experience a new planet; it helped alleviate any disorientation. Maybe the soldier had been promised a promotion for getting me to the council by a certain time. In an army of several billion it must have been hard to get a promotion.

The lift opened onto a spacious room at the apex of the tower. All four walls were glass, showing an amazing view of the city. The room was brightly lit, which I thought rather spoiled the view of the stars. There were no furnishings except a horseshoe table around which sat twelve people. The thirteenth seat at the head of the table was empty. A single chair set in the center of the horseshoe completed the layout. It was obviously meant for me. Apparently the councilors did not realize exactly who an Inspector was. I decided to ignore the chair and stand where I could see them.

“Welcome to Baila, Inspector,” said one. I thought it was a woman near the center of the table. “We are desperately in need of your help.”

“So I’ve heard.” I counted the people at the table again. Twelve. “Where’s the administrator?”

Apparently that was the wrong question.

The woman’s face became a frozen mask. “The planetary administrator is busy,” she answered carefully. It was quite obviously calculated, and a lie.

“It’s typical for the administrator to beet an Inspector. Especially when the administrator called for said Inspector.”

The woman didn’t flinch. I gave her that much. “The administrator is busy,” she repeated. “Isn’t it enough that the council has convened at such a late hour?”

That did it. Something was going on here and I wasn’t going to take all night to find out what it was. I was tired and this woman needed to show some respect. I started around the table.

“Terra received your code one request one week ago. Instead of taking a starship like I prefer, I made the Jump and I must say that your Jump staff is the poorest excuse I’ve seen yet. So here I am, but the administrator isn’t. I don’t know precisely why I’m here. That annoys me.” I sat in the empty chair and propped my feet on the table. “I’d really like some answers. Now.” It was pretty childish, I’ll admit, but it was worth it.

The blood-drained from the twelve faces. “The administrator is—”

“Let me guess; he’s busy.”

I think the woman finally understood after that. At least she shut-up.

“The administrator is not here,” said a woman further down the table. “He’s been gone for the last two months and we don’t know where he is.”

“So you sent a code one message and forged the admin’s digsig?”

She reddened a little. “We had to make sure the request was noticed.”

“It was noticed alright,” I said sarcastically. I thought for a moment. “Just on a far-out idea, are there really any officials that are really missing?” No one answered. “None, I would guess.”

“We had to,” the first woman broke in. “The administrator was a Markan and we don’t want the military coming in here.”

“Because you’d lose your standing?” This was the most pathetic group of politicians I’d ever seen. “I have half a mind to leave and report you all. But I won’t. Yet. Instead I have a few questions for you.” This was going to be very unpleasant.

* * *

Most people are hopelessly romantic when it comes to the role of an Inspector. Oh, of course, we’ve been idolized in popular culture for decades, centuries some would say. However, the great majority of people have no idea exactly what we do. They have fantasies about the old gum-shoe detectives of Terra. That would be entirely inaccurate. If it were true, why then are we feared by planetary governments? Even more annoying, people think that there is something romantic about investigations. Not true at all.

By the time I emerged from the tower it was very dark, very much night, and I was very much tired. The same soldier was standing outside the tower. He looked to be stiffer than any of the towers. He snapped to attention (I guess; but I don’t see how he could get any more stiff) when I appeared, then realized who I was and relaxed a bit. He opened the car door for me and then got in the front and started to drive. I didn’t really care where he was taking me, as long as it was away from the tower.

I pulled a notebook out of my pocket and began to write. I could have easily requisitioned a transcriber or some other device, but I preferred to write my notes by hand. It was more dramatic that way. Perhaps I’m not so free of everyone’s romanticism as I think. Anyway, my first estimation of the situation was pretty depressing. It came down to this: A planetary administrator (conveniently a Markan sympathizer) disappears as soon as news that the newly militarized party is headed for his planet and no one can find him. Even if I had been on my first assignment I would have smelled a rat. Of course, my highly trained instincts were telling me that everything was too obvious. Something was out of place.

The car screeched to a halt in front of a tall tower with a sign outside that said “Hotel”. Irritably, I wondered whether the soldier had ever been trained on something as simple as a groundcar and whether the local populace could get any more unoriginal with their names. I crawled out of the car and glared at the soldier who appeared not to notice. He gestured towards the hotel.

“All of your bags have been removed from your shuttle and placed in your room, Inspector,” he said. I was most impressed with the respect in his voice. The council has tired me quickly. “The desk staff has been briefed on your presence and they are expecting you. The council has placed me at your service; I will be waiting for you tomorrow morning and from there you can order me to do anything to aid you in your investigation.” The entire speech was given in a precise, clipped manner. At least it was an improvement over the simpering tones of the council. I could have gone for a little more emotion, though.

“Thank you, soldier,” I replied, using my best military voice. Technically, Inspectors are under military jurisdiction during their training at the Academy, so I had a little bit of background knowledge. “I’ll meet you here tomorrow at 0700 hours.”

The man saluted and said, “Yes, sir.” He turned to get in the car and then looked back. “By the way, Inspector, I am a lieutenant, Lieutenant Derik.” Then he jumped in the car and took off with a terrible screeching noise. So at least one person on Baila had a backbone. I was beginning to feel a little more hopeful.

I entered the hotel lobby feeling slightly better, but still a little bit snappish. The hotel staff was very accommodating, but without the simpering. I seriously considered flexing my muscles fully and replacing the council with some of the hotel staff. That would have been reason for a serious reprimand, though, so I refrained.

Comfortably ensconced in my rooms, I broke out a Communicator and carefully set up the odd-looking apparatus. It is most closely resembles (in my opinion) a spider that has overdosed on dream serum or some other narcotic. The first time I saw one, I seriously began to doubt the validity of the Inspector establishment. Then they showed me how the thing works.

The Communicator works on the same basic principles as the Jump, except that humans derived these equations, not the now defunct Automata. It would seem that transferring data at several times the speed of light is much easier than living matter. The whole device works on the principle that all matter can be converted to energy and that energy itself can be transmitted in packages of data, or some other such nonsense. I never claimed to be a scientist, just an Inspector.

Once I set up the device, I had to calibrate it, for which I had to pull out a dat-pad full of orbital tables and such. Once calibrated, the device began to hum and a green light pulsed on and off. After a few minutes it beeped to indicate that it had a connection and I sat in a chair in front of the viewer.

The face of the Chief Inspector, Gustavo Gurriaf, popped up on the monitor. The man was downright ugly and I’ll admit that every time I saw him I felt an urge to empty my stomach. Fat, bloated, and pallid didn’t begin to describe Gurriaf. He was good at what he did, though.

“Inspector,” he said, his voice a deep rumble. “Have you made contact with the planetary council yet?”

I focused intently on some blurry object in the background. It was better than watching Gurriaf’s jowls shake as he talked. “Yes, Chief Inspector,” I answered. “As it turns out, the message was from the council, on which they forged the admin’s digsig.”

Gurriaf chuckled. “And did you reprimand them?”

“Of course.” I left out the fact that I had decided not to replace a few members. That was normally part of the reprimand.

“And the missing officials?”

I swallowed hard. This was the hard part, but I was sure Gurriaf would take it well. He was a very literal-minded person. “There are no missing officials, Chief Inspector. It is the planetary administrator who is missing.”

Gurriaf didn’t take the message quite as well as I expected. “What?” he exploded. “The admin?”

“Yes, sir,” I answered dully. “He is also a Markan sympathizer.”

“Find him, Inspector,” Gurriaf snarled. He was drooling a little now. It was hard to see in his bristling, black beard. “Find him, now. The Markan fleet is a week from Baila and I want you out of there before they arrive.”

I was mildly shocked by that news, although I shouldn’t have been. “Isn’t a fleet on its way from Terra?”

“It is,” he answered, a bit more calmly. “But certain factions in the Congress see benefits if the Markan fleet is allowed to destroy Baila. After all, one planet is bad, but think of the public support they can raise on their homeworlds if the Markans destroy two planets?”

I got Gurriaf’s point immediately. If the Markans took over the Congress, the other parties would probably be extinct in a week. If the Congress succeeded in stopping the Markans, the Markan party would cease to exist and the other powerful parties would be able to increase their power. Never mind that several billion would have to die to see either of those options accomplished. I hate politics.

“I’ll do my best,” I assured Gurriaf. I didn’t quite know where this would lead, but it never hurts to be on good terms with your boss.

“You’d better find the admin, Inspector, or I’ll denounce you before the Congress personally. You won’t last a day.” Gurriaf abruptly closed the link and the Communicator shut itself off.

For my part I sat in my chair and thought. Most of it was about things entirely unrelated to my assignment. It helps to clear your mind of the assignment and focus on trivial matters. Then, when you return to the work at hand, you can look at it with fresh eyes. It usually works. It didn’t this time. Exhausted and annoyed, I fell asleep in the chair, fully clothed.

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Brdn_Nkd

I can nitpick some things but I didn't pay that much attention. I enjoyed the story

WriteStuff

It was the light pouring in through my window that woke me. I blinked and squinted and cursed myself for forgetting to darken the window. I cursed louder when I saw the clock. It was 0700 on the dot. Now that soldier would think I was stupid. I straightened my clothes, ran a comb through my hair and dashed to the nearest tube bank. When the tube hit the lobby I dashed out of the hotel and nearly ran into Lieutenant Derik who was about to open the hotel doors. I put on my best scowl and got in the car. He didn’t say a word.

“Head for the admin tower,” I said as the car pulled away from the hotel. The lieutenant nodded and took off, neatly slamming my head into the window. I cursed loudly and I think I almost saw a smile on his face. Almost.

Upon reaching the admin tower I left Derik in the car and went into the building alone. I took a tube up to the twelfth floor and walked into an office labeled “Dorita Gan, Councilor”. It happened to be the office of the first woman from the night before. That did absolutely nothing to improve my mood. When I entered she looked up from her desk and grimaced. I paid it no mind; I’m used to eliciting that sort of response from people.

Dorita shut off the transcriber on her desk and stared at me. I stared back. We sat this way for several minutes, myself dispassionately, Dorita with a nervous, fidgety air. Finally she said, “What can I do for you, Inspector?”

I allowed myself an inward, indulgent smile. I hoped she remained as cowed as she had been when I left last night. “I need access to the planetary administrator’s files,” I said as pleasantly as I could. That is to say, I wasn’t as menacing as felt. “I’ll also need to interview his secretaries.”

“You mean interrogate.” I think the correction slipped out naturally.

“Interview,” I insisted. “Inspectors don’t interrogate, we interview. Unless there’s a real crime being committed.” That was directed for her, but the woman was so obtuse, I wasn’t sure she got it.

“I can manage that,” she answered weakly.

“Good,” I said, rising. “I need you to clear the terminal in the conference room upstairs and have it done in about ten minutes. In about two hours, send the secretaries up. And by the way, close your mouth; you look like a dead fish.” I left at that point and started to laugh when the door was safely shut behind me. I love doing that to people. Don’t ask why. I just do.

I knew that Dorita could have the terminal cleared in two minutes if she hurried, but the ten minutes was to give me time to find a restroom. Unfortunately, whoever designed the tower was concerned about officials taking too many restroom breaks. The nearest restroom was in the lobby, or more accurately on the lobby floor, but in a side corridor of a side corridor of a side corridor. When I finally reached the conference fifteen minutes had passed by my count.

I spent the next two hours going through the administrator’s files. The easy ones. They were all encrypted of course, but most of the ciphers were easy to break. I suspected that Dorita had withheld the key on purpose; she didn’t seem like the kind to forget things easily. Most of the files were trash; they all contained routine, boring activities, expense reports, and other garbage. An odd number of files were heavily encrypted, however, and these I tagged for another day.

By that time the secretaries had arrived, exactly two hours after I talked to Dorita. They were young, attractive, and very nervous. I guess being an Inspector intimidates some people, but I wouldn’t know. They answered my questions quickly and in great depth. By my reckoning, their answers were all truthful. All of the answers were the normal bland stuff you would expect from a secretary and so I took few notes. One of the girls had some interesting answers, though. I didn’t press for details.

After the secretaries had left, I decided I’d done enough work for the day. According to Gurriaf I had a week, which meant six more days, and it looked like this would take two, maybe three days to clear up. My uneasy feeling had dissipated and it looked to me like the planetary admin just up and left to join his Markan friends.

I spent the rest of the day browsing the city and then retired to my hotel room where I browsed the networks. There was absolutely nothing on that I had not seen already, the newest having debuted on Terra at least six months ago. There was nothing to report to Gurriaf, so I left the Communicator where it sat. I fell asleep staring at the ceiling and cursing the planetary backwater. This time I remembered to darken the windows and set an alarm.

* * *

The next morning, Lieutenant Derik said his first words to me since the first night. “You’re looking well rested, Inspector,” he observed as I walked out of the hotel. On time, I might add.

“Why? Did you think I was an insomniac?” Usually I’m irritated when people say things like that, but the lieutenant had so few words to me, I didn’t have an accurate reading of the man. Who knew, he could have been important to my investigation.

“Most visitors to Baila don’t sleep well,” he answered. “It never truly gets dark. When the sun goes down, the stars come out. They’re much brighter than on Terra, or so I’ve heard. But even during a rainstorm, you can still see the sun, or the stars, through the clouds.”

I hadn’t really given that much thought, but it did make sense. “Interesting notion,” I said and got in the car.

I began my day again at the admin tower. This time I bypassed Dorita’s office and went straight to the conference room. I had spent a little time researching the political loyalties of the various council members and none was a Markan; none of them were even remotely close to being a Markan. That eliminated a conspiracy. So where had the admin gone? For that, I brought a special piece of software.

I inserted a disk into the terminal and it downloaded the contents quickly. Within minutes, files started flashing on the screens, all of them decoded. I began to look at the files I had marked yesterday and let me tell you, they were some interesting reading.

Half were recordings of meetings between the planetary admin and various high Markan office holders. That wasn’t the best part, not at all. All of those meetings were to discuss plans of the Markans to take over the Congress. What was more, there were plans of breaking up the Federation. More intimated the admin’s willingness to sacrifice Baila in exchange for political backing. The pig.

A couple files were interesting videos, the rest were trash. I don’t even know why he kept them.

However, none of the files pointed to a definite location where the admin could have gone. I was forced to conclude that the admin had packed up and left, so to speak. It sort of annoyed me that such a high-ranking official would do such a thing, but then again, I should have expected it.

I wrote up a quick report and sent it to Dorita. I suggested that the council find a new administrator, preferably one with good negotiation skills, and preferably not Dorita. Then I left the tower. I told Derik he could leave, that I wouldn’t need him anymore and he drove off without a backwards glance.

As I stood outside the tower, deciding whether or not to return to my hotel and book passage on the next starship out of here, one of the admin’s secretaries came running out of the tower. She pulled up short when she saw me, then took a hesitant step forward and said, “Inspector?”

“What?” I asked. She was the one with the odd answers. Short, petite, dark black hair and ivory skin. She hadn’t struck me as very intelligent. Then again, first impressions can be wrong.

“There’s something you need to know. About the administrator.” She swallowed hard.

“That he was a Markan sympathizer? I knew that already.” For some reason these Bailans got on my nerves. I wasn’t sure why. Still aren’t.

The girl looked crestfallen. “Sorry to burst your bubble,” I said. I started to walk away.

“Wait!” I stopped and looked back.

“This had better be good,” I warned.

“The administrator used to take trips to a bar in the city,” she said. “It was frequented by political activists, mostly men who had nothing better to do than protest new policies. I can show you, if you’d like.” She fluttered her eyelashes at me. I hate that. It always works.

I soon found myself outside of the most disreputable looking bar I had ever seen. Not even in a back alley on Terra had I seen a sight like this. The whole building looked like it would fall over in a stiff wind. I went in, though. Anything was worth a shot.

The interior was dim and the tables looked to be none too steady. An immensely fat man was behind the bar, wiping at grimy glasses with a grimier rag. I strolled over, the girl behind me and placed my elbows on the bar. Then I waited.

The bartender looked up after he finished wiping the glass. His “cleaning” hadn’t done any good that I could tell. “Whaddya want?” he asked in a slurred voice. It seemed the bartender drank as much as the patronage.

I had decided when I saw the place not to flash my badge around. That sort of thing tends to draw unwanted attention in certain areas of the Federation, and I was pretty sure this was such a place. Besides, that secretary had been getting a few looks from men we passed on the streets. As such I kept my hand firmly locked on my laser; it was, of course, to simply protect a valuable witness should the need arise. That was the only reason.

“I’m an old friend of the admin’s,” I answered casually. “He told me to come here and I might find some like minded people. We go way back, the admin and me, and I’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate it if you decided not to cooperate.”

The bartender stiffened as soon as mentioned the admin. I suppose that was the wrong ploy, but there are other ways to skin a cat, as they say on Terra.

“I wouldn’t know nothin’ about no admin,” the bartender answered. “We’s just got the usual types in here. Feel free t’look aroun’ if you wants to. Don’t make me no difference.”

I pulled a credit out of my pocket and slid it across the bar. I didn’t look at the amount. That doesn’t really matter; to most informants it’s just the expectation that there’s more where that came from that matters.

The bartender pocketed the credit and looked around real carefully. He leaned forward and began to whisper so I leaned towards him to hear anything. His breath was fetid, but I kept listening. “The backroom,” he said, “is where they meets. ‘Bout four ever’day. I didn’t tell you nothin’. Unnerstand?” I nodded. “The password’s ‘Terra’.” I slid another credit across the bar. “The leader’s kinda short. His name’s Tol. He’s the one you wants to talk with. He can hook you up.” I nodded my thanks and walked out.

Back on the street I turned to look at the secretary. “You’d better go back to the tower,” I advised. “This could get ugly later.”

“I’ll be fine,” she answered. That surprised me. I reappraised her.

“If you want to stick around,” I said. She smiled and fluttered her eyelashes again. I so hate that.

I found a nearby park to sit in while waiting for four to come along. Personally, I was a trifle annoyed. First, by the council and their message; second, by the ease of the case; and third, by this new lead. I wanted to get back to Terra. Besides, on the starship back I would be able to relax, without having to do any work.

The secretary didn’t say anything, just sat there and watched me. Creepy.

At four I got up and meandered back to the bar. Outside I made sure no one was in sight and slipped my laser out of my pocket and to the secretary. “You aim this end at the person and push this button here,” I said, pointing.

“I know,” she answered. She smiled again. I looked at her one more time, really looked at her and decided she could take care of herself. I noticed a bit more too, but I quashed my feelings ruthlessly. There was a job to do, and I was bringing a civilian into a potentially deadly situation, myself having no protection but my own body. Inspectors are trained to fight with anything, but I hadn’t expected to have to do such a thing on this job.

The bartender saw us come in, but didn’t show any sign that he recognized us. I walked to the backroom and knocked. A thin reedy voice called, “Password?”

“Terra,” I said and the door opened. It was that easy.

The room was filled with rough-looking men who all had some sort of laser on their hips. I avoided swallowing, barely. This was not going to be fun at all. And it wouldn’t be like cowing the council either. I knew that right away.

“He’s a new one,” said a large man towards the back of the room. He only had one eye.

“So he is,” agreed a man in the front, who spoke with the same voice that answered the door. “How did you hear about us?” he asked. There was a tensing in the room. I found myself unconsciously stroking where my laser should have been. I stopped quickly.

“My friend, the planetary admin, told me where I could find you,” I answered. “Do any of you know where he is? I haven’t been able to find him.”

The faces that stared at me were stone.

“I suppose I’ll be leaving now,” I said weakly. No one laughed. No one even moved. Casually, I turned the secretary around and opened the door. “Nice talking with you, gentlemen.” I shut the door. I was proud that we made it out of the bar without running, but once I hit the street I snapped, “Run! And don’t look back!”

We ran for perhaps ten minutes until we reached a nicer section of the city. By then I had to stop. Surprisingly enough, the secretary had kept up with me. I collapsed on a park bench, breathing heavily. They trained us for this stuff at the Academy, but it was rare that an Inspector had to put it into practice. I certainly hadn’t before. The secretary just sat and smiled. After a while, I wasn’t sure what was causing my racing pulse.

“Since those men will probably be after us,” I said, a touch breathily, “we might as well get to know one another better. I’m Devaris Hanan.” I stuck out a hand. She shook it firmly.

“I’m Leila,” she answered. I waited for a last name, but when none was forthcoming, I plowed on.

“I’m going to need to know everything you know about the planetary administrator,” I said. “We could be in serious trouble, and we only have about five days to do anything.” She took all of this matter-of-factly, an occurrence that causes me to wonder even to this day, five years and many assignments later. I’m still not sure who was more composed.

“I told you everything I knew yesterday,” she replied calmly. Or not so calmly. Her left eyelid twitched, just the slightest, when she said that. I’d noticed the same reaction yesterday.

“Let’s not fool ourselves,” I said, reaching into her pocket and withdrawing my laser. “We both know you’re lying, and at this point, it really would pain me to pull my badge out, so please answer my questions truthfully, the first time.” If you’ve ever seen a relationship that started in a more odd way, please tell me. I’ll pay you. A lot.

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That's what I think: take it or leave it.

Read any good books? PM me.