“That shouldn’t delay the schedule too much.” Aster answered, awkwardly aware that Felix was dancing around an entirely different issue, “how about the simulations?”
“The simulations have been done to death,” Felix added with weary exasperation, “we really should be starting live-testing right now.”
“I seriously doubt you came all the way to my office to tell me that.”
Felix was silent for a moment.
“How well did you know Lawrence?” he asked suddenly.
“Not as well as I know you,” Aster replied, “But then, I don’t think anyone did.”
“He did like to keep to himself…” Felix noted, hesitant to continue with the topic.
“You think he knew something about what was happening on Loki.” Aster concluded, “Which would explain why the DNI had such an interest in him.”
“Of course he would have known something,” Felix pointed out, “or else he wouldn’t be doing his job as liaison officer. So I was thinking maybe he kept backup logs–”
“No.” Aster interrupted flatly.
“But I haven’t asked you anything yet.” Felix said.
“You came here to ask me if I would use my personal override code to open up his office and find out if he kept any backup logs there.” Aster guessed, “and the answer is no.”
“Well, you are project-lead.” Felix continued hopefully, “And Lawrence’s notes–”
“Would be incriminating material, if they exist,” Aster pointed out, “and, if they contain anything of interest to the DNI, would also be grounds for arrest.”
“So you really want to just bury the whole issue?”
“Yes, I do.” Aster confirmed bluntly.
“Look, this isn’t me being all emotional about what may or may not have happened on Loki,” Felix tried to explain, “I just think it might be worth looking for any notes or logs he might have kept that could be useful to the DNI.”
“The DNI searched all our offices, including Lawrence’s,” Aster reminded him, “if he kept any logs in his office, they would’ve found them already.”
“But if he hid the logs well enough that the DNI didn’t find them, they might still be there.” Felix pressed, “And if we find them, we can make sure the DNI doesn’t, and maybe even salvage some useful data out of this mess.”
“…Are you serious?” Aster answered in disbelief.
“Of course I am,” Felix stood his ground, “why wouldn’t I be?”
“Does the phrase ‘criminal complicity’ mean anything to you?” Aster demanded, “Because that’s the legal term for what you just suggested.”
“Look, it’s not like I want to get anyone else in trouble but–”
“Oh, that’s good to know!” Aster shot back sarcastically, “if you mean that, why don’t you drop the issue and never bring it up again?”
“Well, regardless of what we do with the data, would it really hurt to just look?”
“Yes, it would.”
“Look, Aster, we were all involved,” Felix persisted, “the fact that we all pretended not to know or care about Loki doesn’t make us less complicit.”
“So it’s about moral absolution, is it?” Aster asked cynically.
“Partly, yes,” Felix conceded, “we all benefitted from the research they did; and now, we’re just washing our hands of them? It’s horrible.”
“I know it’s horrible!” Aster shot back angrily, “This whole thing is horrible, I’ve been overseeing the whole project for over a year, remember?”
“So why in Terra’s name shouldn’t we look?” Felix asked in exasperation, “the worst case scenario is we don’t find anything.”
“No, the worst case scenario is we all get arrested for hiding data from the DNI – aka ‘criminal complicity’ – and spend the next few decades in a penitentiary facility.”
“Do you really not want to find out what happened?”
“I’m afraid to find out,” Aster admitted, “and of everyone getting arrested. Keeping our heads down is the best strategy for us.”
“Well I’m afraid to find out, too,” Felix conceded with an earnest, almost pleading tone, “but if there’s anything we can do–”
“I have four children, Felix, all of them under ten.” Aster interrupted him, “I don’t plan to watch them grow up through a weekly video link from a prison cell.”
“So you won’t even consider opening up Lawrence’s office?” Felix asked desperately.
“I don’t see what the point would be.” Aster answered, “Especially since your plan involves potentially landing us in even more trouble with the authorities.”
Felix looked away, sighing in resignation.
“Fine, then.” He got up and left without another word.
Aster remained slumped on the couch long after Felix had gone, glumly processing the tense conversation that had just transpired.
‘Trouble with the authorities’. That phrase had a completely different meaning out on the frontier. ‘Trouble with the authorities’ meant that the government suspected the colony of harbouring smugglers or trafficking their contraband. ‘Trouble with the companies’ meant the colony was behind on its payments, and the corporates’ hired thugs had come to collect.
The reach of the government was infinitely long but seldom felt, and they allowed the corporates to roam more or less freely on the frontier. The former was distrusted but respected, the latter were despised. In spite of their dependence on both, the colonials valued their freedom, and successfully defying either was considered a badge of honour.
But here on Asgard, no such freedom was possible. ‘Trouble with the authorities’ meant far worse than a visit by the Marine patrols or the corporate loan sharks, and no one would congratulate you for it. If you ran afoul of the law here, everything could be taken away from you. Aster had built an entire life here within the hyper-urbanised milieu of this hub-world, and it could all just fall apart as a result of ‘trouble with the authorities’.
So why was she already having second thoughts about Felix’s suggestion?
* * *
As Teller shouted the key phrase, his verbal command caused the power to die, killing the lights with it. The squad was completely blinded as their helmet filters adjusted to the sudden darkness. Gabriel’s helmet filters made the adjustment just in time to see their erstwhile guide charge at Ogilvy and body tackle him against the railings. They tumbled over the top of the railings together and went spinning down into the depths below.
“Fuck!” someone shouted.
“Get that door open!” Gabriel ordered, “I’m going down there.”
Without pausing to hear any objections, Gabriel mounted the railings and leapt down after Ogilvy and his attacker. He kicked back and forth between the glass tanks to slow his fall before landing cat-like on his feet, weapon ready.
Suddenly, the power returned, re-illuminating the hydroponics lab and briefly blinding the squad again as their helmet filters had to reset. When his visual filters had adjusted, Gabriel found himself in a maze of vertically-arranged hydroponic tanks, the thick green trunks of genetically-engineered food plants visible through the steamed glass. Neither Ogilvy nor Teller were anywhere to be seen.
“Ogilvy!” Gabriel called out through the comm., “status!”
“…Six…eight targets!” Ogilvy shouted back, “…maintenance area…Ah!”
Gabriel heard struggling and more shouting; then a sound like electricity or surging static filled the comm. from Ogilvy’s line before it suddenly went dead.
“Ogilvy, come in!” Gabriel tried to hail him, “Lieutenant Ogilvy, respond immediately!”
Silence.
Gabriel felt a small but treacherous fluttering of panic in his chest. A member of his squad had been captured, and with such speed and tactical competence that no one had managed to fire a shot in response. They’d been blindsided. He had been blindsided.