No going back after that. Was that what Strauze had wanted? Seemed like a waste of time, to go to all this effort just to nail a planet-side ‘ware cracker. The enforcer could’ve gone to any contractor in Outlander and gotten the same answer.
Instead of pulling out the handcuffs right then and there, Strauze said:
“Believing old-wives tales about Tal-Kader isn’t a crime, contrary to what most people think. Tal-Kader isn’t the Systems Alliance, after all. They only hold the contract for its administration. There’s still an elected government, and an elected president. Isaac Reiner’s accidental death hasn’t stopped that.”
It took an active effort of will for Delagarza to not roll his eyes at the enforcer. Sure, technically Tal-Kader wasn’t in full control of the SA and its policies. They just sponsored (another word for “owned”) half the Defense Fleet, trained and indoctrinated the Enforcers in their deep space facilities, dictated the oryza trade, owned the propaganda arm of the SA, and personally oversaw the negotiations with Earth for the Edge’s reincorporation into its domain.
Oh, and ruled Asherah System, the Edge’s capital, with an iron fist. What was the official party line? There’s no secret police in Jagal. Metro City’s Internal Affairs is just dangerous propaganda fostered by terrorist cells.
Instead of voicing his opinion, Delagarza kept quiet, so he wouldn’t be forced to lie during the test. It probably didn’t matter since Major Strauze wouldn’t hire anyone who didn’t approve of Tal-Kader and said so in the open.
Strauze and Kircher exchanged one look filled with meaning. Kircher shrugged. Strauze nodded, like accepting the doctor’s argument, and turned his gaze to Delagarza. The enforcer’s expression lacked any hint of animosity. Same old emptiness behind his eyes.
“Just one last question. Did you plan for us to hire you beforehand?” asked Strauze.
“What kind of question is that?” asked Delagarza, “I didn’t know you existed until you offered me a job.”
Which I’m kinda wondering if I should accept, even if the offer was still on by some miracle. These people are dangerous. Worse than dangerous…irrational.
But his answer seemed to satisfy both Strauze and Kircher. Strauze stood up. “That will be all,” he said.
Delagarza raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. It was clear his position against Tal-Kader disqualified him for working for the Conglomerate (which was an implied extension of working for the SA enforcers), but he hadn’t expected the loyalty test to be so short. Hell, Strauze’s gossip-like questions outnumbered the only two or three actual loyalty-related ones at the end.
Had he missed something?
His clothes waited for him on a hanger at a corner of the infirmary. Delagarza reached for them, dreading already the time it would take to get inside the reg-suit again. He extended the foldable privacy curtain embedded to the wall and slipped into his undergarments after tearing away the disposable robe. While he did so, Strauze left the infirmary without looking back at Kircher or Delagarza.
The doctor keyed a couple quick commands on her holographic keyboard, closed it, and told Delagarza:
“The bots are deactivated, Sam. You’re free to go. Your kidneys will filter them out of your body next time you take a piss.”
“Thanks, doc,” Delagarza said. His body felt the exact same way as before, the slight fever pulsating behind his eyes. The nocebo effect screwing him over, no doubt.
After he finished with the reg-suit and its systems reported to his wristbands that body-reg worked nominal, Delagarza stepped out of the privacy curtain and walked to the door.
“Well, see you around,” he told Kircher, as he headed for the exit. In another life, he may have tried to ask the woman out, but after the interrogation, Delagarza would’ve been happy if he never saw her, or Strauze, again.
It’s for the better, he told himself. Nothing good comes from meddling with the enforcers.
“Don’t go too far,” Kircher said. “You’ve seen how Strauze can get. Better wait for him to come back, so he doesn’t have to commission Outlander’s security to find you.”
“What?” asked Delagarza. He blinked and stared at the doctor like she had suddenly started speaking ganger jargon. “I thought I didn’t get the job.”
“Why would you believe that?” Kircher said, raising an eyebrow at him. She appeared genuinely surprised. “You’re the only in-system man who has a shot at cracking our ‘ware. The only way you wouldn’t get the job is if the nanobots had fried you.”
Delagarza found that words failed him. He really had mistaken how the enforcers worked…
“But what I said about Tal-Kader…” he said without bothering to finish the sentence.
“Your political options may make Strauze think you’re a fool, but they’re not a deal breaker,” Kircher told him.
As if to underline her point, the automatic doors slid open to reveal Major Strauze. A woman followed after him, dressed in the black uniform of the enforcers.
“Everything is in order,” Strauze announced, and then took out a gunmetal cube from his pockets. Its surface was bent as if someone had dropped it at some point.
Delagarza extended his hand, but Strauze’s arm didn’t move. He held to the cube while he gestured at the enforcer next to him. “Lisanne Krieger, Samuel Delagarza. Delagarza, you’ll work together with Krieger. She’s your bodyguard and your babysitter from now on. Just don’t let the Shota-M get out of her sight and you two will be best friends.”
Krieger nodded without her lips curving into a smile even for a degree. Real friendly gal.
Delagarza had no doubts that Krieger’s real duty was to keep an eye on the Shota-M.
“If you check your account, you’ll see half the payment is already there,” Strauze went on, “along with access to a small Tal-Kader credit line. Use it for whatever you need to get the job done.”
“How much are we talking about?” asked Delagarza, automatically, without being able to hide the way his ears perked when he heard the words “Tal-Kader credit line.”
“Whatever you need to get the job done,” Strauze repeated, “unless that involves buying a warship. If you somehow need to buy a warship, call me first and I’ll clear it for you.”
Sweet baby Reiner, I’m in way over my head, thought Delagarza. His face paled several degrees.
Just what was inside that Shota-M?
Strauze handed the cube to Delagarza, using careful and controlled movements that reminded Delagarza of a kid who’s reluctant to part away with a favorite toy.
“This is the Shota-M,” Strauze said. Delagarza frowned. As if he wouldn’t recognize the damn thing— “Guard it with your life.”
The or else was implied by his tone. Delagarza held the computer with care.
He may not like the man, but he wasn’t about to find out what Strauze—Tal-Kader—did to those who failed them.
6
CHAPTER SIX
CLARKE
Given what Clarke knew of bribes and docking permits, Free Trader Beowulf, Traveller-class, Gamma variant, couldn’t legally abandon Jagal’s orbit, much less make a living in the first place.
Yet, not only had Antonov insisted Beowulf would have no problems leaving Jagal’s orbital starport, Clarke suspected the man also financed the entire operation out of his personal credit line.
The possibility clashed with the image people had of the EIF: a rag-tag group of misfits that made do with rusty buckets geared with Alcubierre Drives and slug-throwers for weaponry, opposing the SA by pirating and financed by unsanctioned oryza mining.
When he thought about it, Clarke’s military training suggested other alternatives. Perhaps Free Trader Beowulf was a lone investment, an emergency vessel for when the EIF’s leadership in Jagal needed to conduct operations in other systems.