“I gotta charge extra for a rush job,” he warned. Grissom just nodded. “I’ll forward it like always.”
The young man opened the case to reveal an array of unusual tools, gadgets, and exotic equipment Anderson couldn’t even begin to guess the function of. Using a variety of these, it took him half an hour to produce an OSD with the appropriate authorizations. It took another twenty minutes to encode a new name and rank on Kahlee’s Alliance ID — Corporal Suzanne Weathers.
“That’s not going to work,” Anderson warned. “They won’t have any records for Corporal Weathers in their systems.”
“They will twenty minutes after I leave here,” the kid assured with a cocky grin. “I’ll add Corporal
Weathers to the system. Then I’ll mirror all Kahlee’s data and block system access to her file. When
“You have access to the Alliance data files?” Anderson asked in disbelief. “Only the ones at the ports. Don’t try to use this ID once you’re off Elysium.”
“I didn’t think it was possible to infiltrate the Alliance systems,” Anderson said, fishing for information. “You sure I can trust this guy?” the kid asked Grissom.
Funny, Anderson thought. I was wondering the same thing about you.
“For today,” Grissom replied. “Next time you see him you might want to turn around and walk in the other direction, though.”
“The Alliance has solid security,” the young man admitted, speaking with a casual nonchalance as he worked. “Getting in is tough, but it’s not impossible.”
“What about the purges?” Kahlee asked. Anderson looked at her quizzically and she explained for his benefit. “Every ten hours the Alliance runs a full security sweep on their systems to track down and quarantine any new data coming into the system. It lets them identify fraudulent data and trace it back to the source.”
“I plant a little self-regressive algorithm in the data before I upload it,” the kid explained, bragging more than just a little. “Something I came up with myself. By the time they run the security sweep your data will be back online and all traces of Corporal Weathers or these phony authorizations will be long gone. They can’t trace something that isn’t there.”
Kahlee nodded in appreciation, and the man gave her a wink and a leering smile that made Anderson’s fist involuntarily clench. It wasn’t jealousy. Not exactly. Kahlee was his responsibility now. It was only natural he’d instinctively want to protect her. But he had to be careful not to overreact.
Fortunately nobody had noticed; they were all focused on the young man and his work. “They might have a physical description of you, too,” he warned Kahlee. “We better change your appearance, just in case.”
He digitally altered the existing photo on Kahlee’s ID, darkening and shortening her hair, changing the color of her eyes, and deepening the pigments of her skin. Then he had her pop a handful of pigment pills. Next he used shaded contact lenses, hair dye, and a pair of scissors to make Kahlee’s physical appearance match her digital image. He seemed to enjoy it a little too much for Anderson’s comfort, working the dye into her hair for several minutes and lingering a little too long over her locks before he
cut them.
By the time he was finished with her hair Kahlee’s skin had become almost as dark as Anderson’s. The kid stood directly in front of Kahlee and held the ID up beside her face, comparing the image to the real thing. “Not bad,” he said appreciatively, though it wasn’t clear if he was talking about his work or Kahlee herself.
“Your skin will start to lighten up again by tomorrow,” he told her, standing up and holding out the reinvented Alliance ID card. “So be careful. You won’t match the pic anymore.”
“Shouldn’t matter,” she said with a shrug. “Corporal Weathers won’t even exist in the system by then anyway, right?”
He didn’t answer, but gave her another sly wink and let his fingers rub suggestively against hers as she took the ID from him. Anderson had to restrain himself from punching the slimeball right in the face. She’s not your wife, he thought to himself. Helping her won’t make up for eight years of ignoring Cynthia.
When all was said and done, however, the lieutenant had to admit the kid’s forgery was good. He had special training to recognize fraudulent documents, and even though he knew they were fakes he couldn’t tell them from the real thing.
This was the true test, however: running her thumbprint through the scanners at the port authority. “Here you go, Corporal Weathers,” the guard said, handing the altered documentation back to Kahlee
after glancing briefly at his screen to confirm her identity. “You need to head to bay thirty-two. Way
down at the far end.”
“Thank you,” Kahlee said with a smile. The guard nodded, snapped a crisp salute off to Anderson, then sat down and went back to the paperwork on his desk as they turned and walked away.
“Take a look to see if he’s still watching us,” Anderson whispered once they were out of earshot. They were still heading in the direction of bay thirty-two, but of course that wasn’t their real destination.
Kahlee glanced back, coyly peeking over her shoulder. If the guard was watching them he’d hopefully just think the young corporal found him attractive enough to sneak a second look. But he was completely focused on the screen at his desk, the model of efficiency as he rapidly typed away at the keyboard.
“All clear,” Kahlee answered.
“This is it,” Anderson said, turning sharply into the entrance of bay seventeen and pulling her with him.
There was an old cargo freighter in the bay, a loading sled, and a number of heavy shipping crates. At first glance there didn’t seem to be anybody in the bay, and then a short, heavyset man stepped out from the other side of the ship.
“Any problems with the guard?” he asked. Kahlee shook her head.
“You know why we’re here?” Anderson asked, not even bothering to ask the man’s name, which he knew would never be given.
“Grissom filled me in.”
“How do you know my father?” Kahlee asked, curious.
He regarded her coldly for a second then said, “If he wanted you to know, he probably would’ve told you himself.” Turning away he added, “We’re scheduled to lift off in a couple hours. Follow me.”
Most of the space inside the ship’s hold was filled with cargo; there was barely enough room for the two of them to sit down, but they did the best they could. As soon as they were settled, the man sealed the door and they were plunged into complete darkness.
Kahlee was sitting right across from him, but with no light it was impossible for Anderson to even make out her silhouette. He could, however, feel the outside of her leg pressing up against his — there simply wasn’t room for either of them to pull away. The closeness was unsettling; he hadn’t been with a woman since he and Cynthia had separated.
“I’m not looking forward to the next six hours,” he said, looking to distract his inappropriate thoughts with conversation. Even though he spoke softly his words seemed unnaturally loud in the blackness.
“I’m more worried about what we’ll do once we reach Camala,” Kahlee answered, a disembodied voice in the gloom. “Dah’tan’s not just going to hand their files over to us.”
“I’m still working on that,” Anderson admitted. “I’m hoping I’ll come up with a plan on the trip.”
“We should have plenty of time to think,” Kahlee answered. “There’s not even enough room here to lay down and get some sleep.”
After a few minutes she spoke again, changing topics without warning. “Before my mother died I
promised her I’d never speak to my father again.”
Anderson was momentarily caught off guard by the personal confession, but he recovered quickly. “I