Chapter 21

I spent the early afternoon in Colette’s apartment, trying to rest. It felt odd to be in her space. It felt too intimate for me to be in her home alone, and it felt slightly profane to be resting comfortably in her house while she pined away in some stiff, chilly jail cell. I had urged Sash to put me up in a hotel room where I belonged. Whether it was out of protection or sentimentality, I wasn’t sure, but Sash had insisted I stay where I was. I don’t think it was because the Party couldn’t afford it. I relented, but didn’t feel good about it.

Late in the afternoon, Sash rounded me up. He wanted to take me to his command center and pick my brains, to review some previously planned scenarios with me for taking aggressive action against Atlas. I was happy to oblige, and we got in the limo we had been riding before, with the same polite, bulky driver. On our way to the command center, we headed over to a hotel where another planetary guest was staying, namely Bogg Rhul. I was puzzled as to why Sash would want to include him in sensitive discussions with me. Sash only said that he wanted to “keep an eye on him.” I don’t think Sash was overly suspicious; my guess is that he just didn’t know what else to do with the guy, and Bogg and I had become fast friends. Perhaps he appreciated the point of view of an objective third party. In any case, with Bogg in hand, we headed to Sash’s command center, a warehouse on the outskirts of town.

Sash received a phone call in the limo while we drove, and it seemed to concern something very important, though I couldn’t get the details from his various grunts, affirmatives and demands for more information. The only thing I understood clearly when he hung up was his instruction to the driver to pick it up.

Dusk was falling when we arrived at the command center. It was a dull and dreary building from the outside, affording no special notice of itself. But inside, it really was a command post of the first order. There were elaborate procedures for entry, with hand-scans and lots of well-armed soldiers with fingers placed lightly near their triggers. But Sash was saluted by everyone in sight, and we seemed to melt into virtual invisibility from the sheer attention given to their dear General Amaka.

We were escorted through a maze of corridors and rooms full of busy people. We finally reached a sophisticated planning room, darkened in favor of the vast computer screens and video feeds shining a persistent rainbow of light and information from the walls. Technicians moved about, speaking with each other in low tones, and doing all kinds of other busywork that I couldn’t possibly put a name to. We approached a large, circular podium in the middle of the room, like a large gambling table. But instead of green felt and flashy numbers, we saw digital maps, flashing sensors, and a whole host of other information. It lit up our faces from below in a ghoulish way. As soon as we stepped up to the table, we were joined by three stocky, stone-faced soldiers, two of them male, one female.

Sash ran through them in a brisk introduction. “This is Lieutenant Colonel Blake Thompson, Major Brianna Chesney, and Major Terry Golmer. My top commandos.” He waved his hand at us. “Mr. Sean Brennan, from Earth, and Mr. Bogg Rhul, of Sirius IV.” They gave us a stiff nod. “As you know,” Sash continued, “Mr. Brennan is an expert in Atlas procedures and infrastructure. He will provide us with intelligence regarding physical and social vulnerabilities. He’s especially interested in a certain somebody in that compound, another Sirian named Geelan. I’ve prompted for some specific intelligence on that individual’s status and intentions. He has nothing to do with our primary operations, but getting some answers is part of our payback to Mr. Brennan. And speaking of unrelated Sirians, this here is Mr. Bogg Rhul.” Sash paused slightly, as if he himself wasn’t sure what Bogg was doing here. “He is investigating the death of another Sirian, and he thinks Geelan may have something to do with it. He’s basically here at Mr. Brennan’s request.”

The ghostly eyes of the commandos stared us down, saying nothing. And on top of that, Sash was speaking so quickly, and with such authority, that neither I nor Bogg thought to correct any imprecisions in Sash’s statements. We were in the big boys’ house now.

Sash turned to Lt. Col. Thompson. “Give me an update.”

Thompson’s eyes slid over to the female beside her. “Major,” he prompted.

“Sir, we still don’t have an explanation,” the woman responded crisply to Sash. “But we have confirmed that four full platoons – one hundred and fifty three troops – withdrew from the Atlas facility within the last few hours. They quickly departed, in full battle gear, to an Earth battle cruiser in orbit, which immediately departed with them aboard.”

“Heading?”

“Being calculated now, sir. We’ll have more information soon.”

Sash shook his head, one side of his lip caught up in a gentle grind of his teeth. “Half the force…” he murmured in wonder.

“Are you saying that half the military garrison just left the mining facility?” I asked.

The others suddenly looked at me, as if they had forgotten I existed. As if I had just burped in the middle of a child’s baptism. The commandos just stared at me.

“Yes,” Sash answered.

“Why?” I pressed. “Where are they going?”

“We don’t know,” he replied without thinking. Of course they had just been discussing that, but I seemed to be stuck in a perpetual game of catch-up.

“Do you think the PG negotiated something?” the lieutenant colonel asked.
“Have they said anything about it?” Sash prompted.

“Nothing on the airwaves at all, General,” that angular-faced Miss Major Chesney replied.

Sash shook his head. “If they had negotiated something, we would have heard about it. They would have been gloating from moment one.”

“Not if discretion was part of the deal,” Lieutenant Colonel Thompson argued. “Gloating might cost Atlas face. But they might agree to withdraw forces if the Provisional Government agreed to keep the secret between them.”

So if I understood correctly from the conversation I was overhearing, the Earth Marines guarding the Atlas facility had just been halved, but no one knew why. A secret deal was their best guess so far. I piped up some more. “So I guess this makes Atlas a more succulent target, does it not?”

The officers all looked at me, once again like I had emerged from outer space with purple eyelashes and go-go boots.

Good ol’ Sash indulged me yet again. “Well, it makes it easier to take down. But the real question is why it happened. What do they know that we don’t?” He looked at his officers. “How many of you smell a trap?”

No one spoke for a moment, then Major Chesney declared, “We just don’t have enough intel yet to know what to make of it, sir. We’re monitoring the situation very closely. If more pull out soon, it’ll tell me something’s wrong there. That Atlas, or Earth, is for some reason making a quick exit.”

The third officer, Major Golmer, spoke up for the first time. “We’ve checked all the recent Earth military activity, for sudden problems, flare-ups nearby that required quick reinforcements. It would explain this company’s sudden departure. But there’s nothing unusual, no obvious reason for Earth to pull half the company out.”

“What if Atlas sent them away?” Sash asked. His subordinates seemed to shrug in unison.

“They seemed hell-bent on getting out of there, General,” Major Chesney finally said. “Or getting somewhere. It was a quick drill, and they were loaded for bear. This was not a leisurely demobilization.”

The officers all stood together in silent consternation.

“Sir!” a voice called over to us.

Sash turned around, and a technician ran up. “We have an on-site intel report. Just came in, secure channel.” He handed Sash a curly piece of paper. Sash straightened it out and read it.

“This could be the explanation we’re looking for,” Major Terry Golmer volunteered while we all waited to hear any new information.

Sash’s face seemed to fall into a swirl of confusion. His shoulders even seemed to slump a little bit under the weight of yet more perplexity. He finally turned to face me directly, his expression a spooky and unreadable collage of emotions. His eyes flicked briefly over to Bogg as well, standing beside me.

“My dear Sean. I have…perplexing and disturbing news. My people have reported on the…status of your quarry Geelan. It seems that he is being kept in detention there. And, how can I say this? They are not treating him well.”

Bogg took a step closer to Sash, but he said nothing.

“What do you mean?” I challenged.

“It seems he has been under lock and key since he arrived. My sources report that he is being held in a small room, kept at a painfully low temperature. Anecdotal evidence has it that he is being starved, beaten, chemically injected, and questioned. It seems that the guards watching over him are rather enjoying themselves, so much so they can’t help boasting about it.” Sash looked up from the paper he was reading, and he glanced over at Bogg. I did too, and the Sirian’s neck flanges were fluttering something fierce. I could almost feel the air they were fanning onto me.

“Wait, what does that mean?” I stuttered. “Have they seen him?”
“No, but they know where he is.”

Bogg Rhul’s voice was soft, but gilded in steel. “Marff Rindilosk was also treated in this manner. Frozen. Beaten. Tortured. Killed.”

I studied Sash’s face, as if concentrating on his authority would somehow clear the fog of my own confusion. If Geelan had been trying to scam Atlas like he had scammed me, a possibility I didn’t consider seriously, I could see a bastard like Nat Brixom exacting his payback in just this way. But Geelan never would have gotten it that far. And if Geelan was working for Atlas, as I believed he was, why were they treating him like this, unless he had screwed something up? Killing Marff Rindilosk didn’t seem that bad of a mistake, even if Bogg Rhul had come to check it out in person, something Atlas wasn’t likely to know about anyway. Hell, they didn’t even know I was here, as far as I knew.

I queried Sash for more. “You said Geelan is being starved, beaten, tortured…and questioned. Do they know what he’s he being questioned about?”

Before Sash could shake his head, Bogg grabbed me by the arm and spun me to face him. “The source of that new rimonium vein.”

“What? There is no other source of rimonium. That was a scam.”

Bogg’s eyes bore into mine. “You said that Geelan stole your money. How do you know that?”

“Because he didn’t show up at the bank when we had agreed.”

“He didn’t show up when you agreed. Maybe he couldn’t.” My eyes squinted in thought. “Where is that alternate vein that the two of you agreed to mine?”

“I don’t know, he never told me. He said he couldn’t tell me until after we met…at the bank. When he didn’t show up, I never thought about where it might be; I figured it was all a big con game anyway.”

Bogg turned his accusing gaze at Sash and his officers. “It is just like you bigoted humans to assume the worst of a person unlike you.” He looked back at me. “The only thing you know is that Geelan didn’t show up at an appointment. That is a thin hook upon which to hang a very heavy charge of fraud. I believe that Geelan signed a legitimate deal with you. And I believe that when Atlas found out, they wanted to make sure they got it for themselves. If Geelan was so protective of his secret, they would have to go to extraordinary lengths to get that information. Including capturing and torturing him. Including capturing and torturing his lawyer.”

The world around me was coming to a thundering halt. “Wait a minute. How would they even know about it? Geelan kept everything on paper. He insisted that nothing be kept in digital form for that reason. And why did they just go after him? Why didn’t they capture and torture me?”

“I don’t know how they knew. But this was Geelan’s deal. He is the principal. Why waste time with a potentially less-informed associate? Secondly, who is to say that you knew where the secret source was? But most obviously, you of all people should know that Sirians enjoy no legal protections from Earth or its companies. Earthlings can do whatever they want to a Sirian and get away with it. But you are a human, and an Earth Citizen at that. My guess is that if they don’t get what they want from Geelan, they will come for you. But you would be a last resort.”

The eyes in Sash’s face lit up. “And half of the military force guarding the Atlas facility just rocketed out of orbit.” He looked at me ominously. “My guess is they already did get what they wanted from Geelan. And they’re off to claim it.”

I fell back a few steps. I desperately wanted to sit down. “Wait a minute…you’re saying that Geelan’s deal was real, that…that…there really was an alternative source of rimonium and that…Atlas is…?”

“Short-circuiting you,” Sash answered. “Beating you to the punch.”

“Well, shit, we gotta find out where that rimonium is! Sash, if ever there was a time to take out that facility, it’s now. We’ve got to talk to Geelan!”

Sash was shaking his head.

“Sash!” I shouted. “Goddammit, everything’s coming to a head. Don’t you see? That facility is ready for the plucking. Half the force is gone, you’ve got your commandos here ready to go, I’ll tell you everything you need to know, all the choke points, all the vulnerabilities. Let’s shut this place down, and let’s get Geelan to safety and find out where that rimonium is. Before Atlas go wrecks another fine planet!”

Sash didn’t say anything, his face reflecting a silent internal conflict. But still I could tell I wasn’t winning my case. It was time to pull in the big guns. “Naya is a nine year-old girl who is dying under your watch. Her mother is in jail. The cure for that little girl sits inside that facility. With your spies’ help, and half the force gone, and your fancy commandos here, I’m sure you can at least engineer a good old-fashioned burglary, can’t you?” I looked at his officers. “Three commandos. Two packages: Koralizine and Geelan. Extract them both and we get a lot of vexing questions answered.”

Sash was lost in thought, but the commandos were nodding. “We could do it,” Lt. Col. Thompson said.

“You can take that facility down in an hour flat,” I urged. “The government is trying to shut you down, your people are screaming for justice, and you have the power to act. To at least help save three thousand lives, if not my own personal retirement money!” I thought that ought to count for something.

He wasn’t listening to me, though. He was completing his own inner dialogue. He looked intently at his three officers. “Let’s get to work.”