“Are you going to fight monsters again?” three year old Violet asked.
“That’s what daddy does to keep you all safe.” Gabriel answered.
“What monsters do you fight?” five year old Rose asked.
“Really scary monsters,” Gabriel replied teasingly, “with lots of eyes and tentacles.”
“Eww!” Violet said with disgust, “I hate tentacles!”
“Can we come fight the monsters with you?” Orion asked hopefully.
“Sorry, Ori,” Gabriel replied, “Only grownups can go out and fight monsters.”
His firstborn pouted in disappointment.
“How are you, Leo?” Gabriel asked Leonidas, who smiled at having his name called.
“It’s noisy here.” Leo observed with a giggle.
The video link muted out all background noise from the other end, but the children were probably being driven to distraction by the chattering and noise in the waiting room.
“Daddy has to go, now,” Gabriel told them, “take care of your mother while I’m gone.”
“Mommy sometimes cries when you’re gone.” Rose blurted out.
A spike of emotion pierced Gabriel’s heart as Aster hastily took back the camera before the children could say anything else.
“Their appointment should be soon,” Aster informed him in an unconvincing attempt to brush off Rose’s unauthorised disclosure.
“Ok, I’ll see you in a few days.”
“Yes…” Aster replied, her sentence trailing off.
“Aster,” Gabriel asked, “don’t cry.”
“I can’t promise that.” Aster replied, wiping away a tear.
“Goodbye, then.” Gabriel waved at the screen.
“Goodbye,” Aster waved back, turning the camera to include the children in the shot, “say goodbye to your father.” She instructed.
“Bye, daddy!” they chorused, waving goodbye at the screen.
“Goodbye, sweethearts.” Gabriel waved back. The call ended and the screen went dark.
Gabriel continued to stare at the blank screen for the longest time, wondering – not for the first time – if it was fair to burden his loved ones with the possibility of his death.
* * *
Once the doctors had come to collect them, Aster said goodbye to her children and departed for work, taking the public mag-train from the medical centre to the other side of the city centre. She knew for a fact that she would see them again, and soon. Such certainty was impossible whenever Gabriel deployed.
After a ten minute ride, the mag-train arrived at one of the largest towers in the city, gliding to a smooth halt before disgorging its passengers onto the platform. Splitting off from the streams of people, Aster made her way to the elevators at the opposite end of the station, overshadowed by a holographic corporate logo of a gas giant.
Aster stepped into the elevator and stood in front of the biometric scanner to confirm her identity. The automated security system granted her access and she descended to the lower levels. Once the elevator doors opened, Aster passed through an automated security checkpoint – checking her smartphone into storage – then stepped out into the entrance hall of Jupiter Engineering Co.’s main R&D complex.
It was deserted.
“Hello?” Aster called out, puzzled.
The whole place ought to be thronged with people at this time of day, but there was nobody to be seen. No alarms had been triggered, no warning lights were flashing, and there had been no instructions not to come into work, or that anything unusual would be happening today. So where was everyone?
Aster crossed the hall to Workshop 1-A, the doors sliding open as she approached. Once inside, the mystery of her colleagues’ whereabouts was solved. They were all huddled together in the break room surrounded by DNI agents clad in jet black body armour, side-arms strapped to their thighs, and retractable combat helmets partially concealing their faces.
“You,” one of the agents pointed at Aster as she walked in, “are you Dr Aster Thorn?”
“Scan me.” Aster answered back.
The agent obliged, and his suit sensors confirmed Aster’s identity.
“Come with me.” He ordered gruffly.
Confused and suspicious, Aster followed the agent past the crowd of colleagues into the corridor outside. She realised he was leading her to her office.
Waiting outside the door to Aster’s office was the senior agent in charge of the raid, leaning against the wall with arms folded and visor retracted; she looked as though she’d been waiting for a while. The senior agent looked at Aster with a stern, impatient glare and nodded in the direction of the door, not deigning to verbalise the instruction.
“Good morning to you too.” Said Aster sarcastically as she turned to face the scanner.
The scanner confirmed Aster’s identity and the door slid open; the two agents showed themselves inside, gesturing for Aster to follow. Aster followed them into a spacious office, featuring a desk equipped with a holographic display screen at one end, and a mini-lounge with a coffee table and a couch at the other.
The senior agent pointed at the couch and snapped her fingers.
“What about the couch?” Aster demanded, her patience finally running dry.
“Take a seat.” The agent instructed.
“Then why don’t you open your mouth and say so instead of waving your hands about?” Aster said, imitating the agent’s hand gestures, “that’s how you order around a pet animal–”
“Sit down!” the agent snapped, evidently not used to ordering around a civilian.
Rolling her eyes, Aster obliged.
The other DNI agent pulled a fist-sized object from his belt and tossed into the air. Staying airborne under its own power, the scanner drone bathed the wall in a sensory light and methodically circumnavigated the office. Aster drummed her fingers impatiently – as if she would plant listening devices in her own office.
Once the bug sweep was complete, the scanner drone returned to its controller, having detected nothing suspicious. The agent plucked the drone from the air and put it back on his belt before leaving Aster alone with the senior agent, who stood over her like a disapproving schoolteacher. The agent adjusted her helmet visor and pulled up Aster’s personnel file on her wrist-top computer before beginning.
“Dr Aster Thorn.” The agent read off the screen, “Tertiary specialisation in electrical engineering. Quaternary specialisation in Q-physics engineering with a minor specialisation in fusion reactor design. Doctoral specialisation in applied fusion reactor physics.”
“Is this an interrogation or a job interview?” Aster asked.
“All of your colleagues named you as the project-lead,” the senior agent deftly ignored Aster’s sarcasm, “and I want to know what that project is about.”
“That’s subject to corporate privilege.” Aster shot back bluntly.
“Are you the project-lead or not?” the agent demanded.
“Yes, I am.” Aster confirmed, “Now, are you going to tell me why the DNI is snooping around a private company’s labs?”
The agent appeared to mull it over.
“Fine,” the agent replied, “we are indeed from the Directorate of Naval Intelligence. Specifically, we’re from Division 3, as in the 3rd Prime Law.”
“‘Politics and Security Don’t Mix’?”
“The actual wording is ‘Civic and Security Don’t Mix’,” the senior agent corrected her, “and unauthorised acquisition, possession, modification or usage of xenotechnology definitely crosses the line between security and civic matters.”
“You’re seriously accusing us of trafficking in xenotech?”
“Yes, we are.”
“Maybe you should speak with our Chairman–”