Agent Prime Page 6

  “Yes, ma’am,” Sno said.

  Tana bit his lip then slid past him, making sure she put plenty of sway into her hips as she walked to her bedroom. Sno left a trail of clothes as he quickly followed behind her.

  10.

  The whiskey tasted like liquid smoke and unfulfilled dreams. Sno closed his eyes and smiled at the lingering burn that slowly faded from his tongue.

  “You gonna screw that glass or drink from it?” B’urn asked as Sno opened his eyes.

  “Cute,” Sno said, turning his attention to the observation deck’s massive plastiglass window that looked out onto the Scortuer Neu Nebula, a massive cloud of swirling blue and emerald green gasses.

  “Love this view,” B’urn said as he downed his glass of whiskey then refilled it, offering the bottle to Sno when he was done.

  Sno took the whiskey and filled his glass as well then set the bottle down on the floor. He eased his body into the back of the padded bench, sipped more whiskey, and watched the tendrils of nebula gasses chase each other out in space.

  “A bounty on an SSD agent,” B’urn said, shaking his huge head. “What is the galaxy coming to?”

  “That is not the question I care about,” Sno said. “My question is why a team of Chassfornians, which I’m still mentally grappling with, why that team had a Skrang ship on Egthak. Did the Skrang put the bounty out on me or was that ship simply a vehicle the Chassfornians purchased on the black market?”

  “Not a very low profile choice,” B’urn replied.

  “Unless they needed to get through Skrang Alliance territory without being stopped at every Eight Million Gods damn checkpoint,” B’urn said. “The Skrang love their checkpoints more than the GF does.”

  “Hard to fathom.”

  A puff of aquamarine gas exploded out from the nebula then was sucked back in, creating a swirling vortex. Sno smiled at the display of nature’s magnificence.

  The two agents sat there in silence for a long while before B’urn cleared his throat and set his empty whiskey glass aside.

  “How much trouble are you going to get yourself into while on holiday?” B’urn asked.

  “Forced leave.”

  “S’mantha.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “If you’re going to give your holiday a fake name, why not a pleasant one like S’mantha. Forced leave is a little clunky.”

  “Cute.”

  “You know, you’re the only person that uses that word to describe me.”

  “Irony.”

  “I assumed as much. You going to answer my question?”

  “What was the question again?”

  “How much trouble are you going to get while on S’mantha?”

  “On S’mantha? How provocative, Agent Reign.”

  “Answer the Eight Million Gods damn question, Sno.”

  “I don’t expect to get into any trouble while I’m on forced leave.”

  B’urn chuckled as he refilled both glasses. “What you expect and what happens are two very different things, Sno.”

  “My plan is to do as I was told and rest and recuperate while I am home on forced leave.”

  “You can stop saying forced leave now. I get the point. Everyone in headquarters gets the point.”

  “While I rest and recuperate, I may reach out to some contacts so I have a better understanding about what happened on Egthak.”

  “Agent Stand has the Egthak assignment now. You planning on stepping on her toes?”

  “Not at all. I’ll be discrete. Her rebuilding of the Egthak mission and my conducting a personal inquiry into my experiences on the planet will never cross paths. No reason they should.”

  “You believe Egthak was a coincidence,” B’urn stated. “If you’d been on any other planet, carrying out any other mission, the results would have been the same.”

  “I suspect as much.”

  B’urn shook his head. “That’s worse. Means this Chassfornian business really is all about you, not about the Division.”

  “Could be.”

  “You need company on holiday? I can wrangle some leave time and join you. I do love that beach of yours.”

  “The neighbors complained of your nude swimming each morning last time you visited,” Sno said and laughed. “I like my privacy too much to invite you this time and deal with neighbor complaints for weeks after.”

  “They can’t handle the B’urn,” B’urn said. Sno groaned.

  “I am going to need alone time for this, B’urn,” Sno said. “No offense.”

  “I figured, but thought I’d ask,” B’urn replied.

  Sno nodded and stood up.

  “Where the Hells do you think you’re going?” B’urn asked, picking up the whiskey bottle. It was empty. “Oh. Shit.”

  “And that is my cue to call it an evening,” Sno said. “Agent Reign.”

  “Agent Prime.”

  Sno gave B’urn a warm smile then made his way out of the observation deck and to the closest lift. Even with time spent in the med pod earlier, Sno was exhausted and he barely paid attention to the lift ride until he was in his foyer and staring at someone he never expected to see.

  “Major General,” Sno said and gave the man a crisp salute.

  “General now, Sno,” General Ved Gerber said. “Pay attention.”

  The man was in his late fifties, heavy wrinkles from dealing with extreme weather, not because of advanced age, coupled with more than a few battle scars, crisscrossed his deep brown face. Gerber stood with his back ramrod straight, his muscular body fit tight inside his Galactic Fleet uniform. His black hair was shorn close to his scalp, a hint of grey at the temples and above the ears.

  “At ease, Sno,” Gerber said and pointed at the apartment door. “Going to invite me in?”

  “Of course, sir,” Sno said and hurried to open the doors, gesturing for Gerber to enter first.

  Once Gerber was over the threshold, Sno made a cursory search of the foyer, hunting for the tell-tale signs of shielding tech. After some dustup with the GF Council a few years back, Gerber always traveled with a contingent of personally selected bodyguards, each known to use shielding tech to cloak their presence. But Sno saw nothing in the foyer except a floor that was in need of a shine. He made a mental note to tell Ledora to take care of that.

  “Drink, sir?” Sno asked as he moved past the general and motioned for the man to take a seat in the living room. “Are you hungry? I can have Ledora prepare an appetizer or even a meal if you haven’t eaten.”

  “Kind of you, Sno, but I won’t be long,” Gerber replied as he sat down in the middle of a rather Spartan and severe couch. The general grimaced. “Do you actually sit on this, Sno? What a horrid piece of furniture.”

  “I don’t spend much extended time here, sir,” Sno said as he took a seat opposite the general in a chair just as severe as the couch. “How can I be of service this evening, sir?”

  “By doing as told and going home for a much-needed holiday,” Gerber replied.

  Sno didn’t bother to correct the man.

  “Of course, sir,” Sno said instead. “Commander Crush suggested as much and I believe he is correct when it—”

  “Stop spewing crap, Sno,” Gerber said tersely. “I don’t need to hear it. What I need to hear is that you will go home to Nab and not reach out to every contact you have in this Eight Million Gods forsaken galaxy. Because if you do that then you will be stirring up shit I do not want you to stir up.”

  “Sir…?”

  Gerber leaned forward, sneered at the lack of give in the couch cushion, then rested his forearms on his knees and locked eyes with Sno.

  “We became aware of the bounty on you shortly after you landed on Egthak,” Gerber said. “I sent Trel’ali to back you up in case exactly what happened were to happen. Good thing, don’t you think?”

  “I appreciate the help, sir,” Sno said. “But why choose a non-GF operative? Wouldn’t another SSD agent have been a more secure choice?”

>   Gerber waited, blank-faced.

  “Unless you suspect the Division has been compromised,” Sno said after a second’s thought. “Do you, sir? Could the Division be compromised?”

  “Any agency within the Galactic Fleet system of bureaucracy can easily be compromised, Sno. That is the very nature of bureaucracies. They are easily corruptible because they lack incentive to stay true other than personal pride and patriotism. Neither of those elements are very lucrative and most employees of the Galactic Fleet machine do not come from a place of vast family wealth such as you do, Sno.”

  “I wouldn’t say vast, sir,” Sno responded.

  “Don’t be modest. You are rich. More so than the majority of beings in this galaxy, Sno. Never forget that,” Gerber chided. “Privilege should not be ignored or taken lightly.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  “So, are we in agreement?” Gerber asked.

  Sno raised an eyebrow. “Sir?”

  “That you will do as you are told and let what has happened on Egthak rest until you are told to do otherwise,” Gerber said. “Use your holiday as an actual holiday. Relax. If you are needed, then I will contact you personally. Until then, find something to occupy your time. Invent some new cocktail you can impress females with. Eight Million Gods knows you enjoy doing that.”

  “I’m not sure how to take that statement,” Sno replied.

  “Take it how you will,” Gerber said as he stood up. “As long as you take it home, stay home, and do not stir shit up. Don’t make me regret letting you out of my sight, Sno. Commander Crush is not standing between us on this. If you disregard my request, it will be me you will deal with, not Crush. Understood?”

  “Loud and clear, sir,” Sno said, standing up as well. “I’ll show you out.”

  “I’ll show myself out, Sno,” Gerber said. “Oh, and Sno?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “We never had this conversation. There will be no data logged that I was in your apartment or even on this level.”

  “Yes, sir. Understood.”

  Sno watched the general leave then let out a long sigh once the man was gone.

  “Ledora?”

  “Yes, Agent Prime?”

  “See if Mix can have my new ship ready a couple hours earlier, will you? I’d like to leave headquarters before the docking ports get busy.”

  “I will contact Master Sergeant Mix right away, Agent Prime.”

  “Thank you, Ledora. Wake me an hour before departure time, please.”

  “Yes, Agent Prime.”

  Sno made his way to his bedroom, stripped down to nothing, yanked back the sheets, and collapsed into bed. He was asleep within the minute.

  11.

  The lines of landing pads were a busy blur of ships appearing, taking off, and ships landing then disappearing. Sno stood by the safety rail of one of the many landing pads, waiting for his new ship to materialize before him.

  “You had your house AI call me to get an earlier launch time,” Mix stated. “Seriously, Sno?”

  “I tried, Mix,” Sno said, pointing his chin at the hustle and bustle of ship activity on the landing pads. “Wanted to avoid this and get to the wormhole portal before a queue started.”

  “You’re going on holiday, Sno,” Mix said and shook his head. “You can afford to wait in the queue like everyone else that isn’t Agent Prime.”

  “But I am Agent Prime,” Sno said with a smirk.

  A ship materialized two landing pads from Sno and Mix pointed. “Go get on your ship and out of my hair, will ya? I got real work to do.”

  Sno waited for the low chime in his comm to tell him it was safe to walk around the rail and out onto the landing deck. He skirted the empty landing pad and made his way to his ship on the next landing pad. A hatch slid open and a set of stairs descended once Sno was close enough.

  “Engines are warmed and ready, Agent Prime,” Ledora said in Sno’s comm. “We will lift off as soon as you are secured in the pilot’s seat.”

  “I’ll handle liftoff, Ledora,” Sno said as he walked up the steps, through the hatch, and down a short, narrow corridor to a ladder.

  He climbed the ladder, walked down another corridor, past the hatches to the two cabins and the mess, climbed a second ladder, and was on the bridge. Sno made his way past the two rear seats and sat down in the pilot’s seat. Straps automatically secured around his torso as an electronic voice ticked off items on the launch checklist that every ship was required to perform.

  “Are you certain, Agent Prime?” Ledora asked. “I am more than capable of handling liftoff.”

  “I know you are, Ledora,” Sno replied. “I feel like flying, is all.”

  “As you wish, Agent Prime,” Ledora said. “Checklist is complete and flight control has given the all-clear for the ship to launch, Agent Prime.”

  “Thank you, Ledora,” Sno said as he swiped his wrist across the control console and brought up the flight interface. A couple of adjustments to the configuration and Sno was ready. He dialed in flight control’s comm signature. “Special Service Division Agent Denman Sno lifting off.”

  “Good flying,” a voice replied as Sno took off from the landing pad, turned the ship 180 degrees, angled the nose slightly, and aimed for the space above headquarters that had been specifically cleared for his ship. “Eight Million Gods speed to you.”

  “Appreciated,” Sno said as the ship shot away from headquarters and out into the tangled mass of shipping routes that surrounded the massive complex.

  It took only a few minutes to reach the wormhole portal queue and Sno eased back in his seat as he waited for his turn. His mind was filled with conflicted thoughts. Even after a good night’s sleep, General Gerber’s request to go home and sit tight weighed heavily on Sno’s mind. He’d met personally with the general on more than a few occasions, but he’d never been told to specifically do nothing before. He was Agent Prime, the FIS’s top SSD agent. Having him go on holiday and sit on his hands was like setting a pistol aside in gunfight and picking up a laser blade.

  To Sno, the request didn’t make sense.

  “Ledora?” Sno asked.

  “Yes, Agent Prime?”

  “Make sure the bots have the house spotless when I arrive.”

  “Of course, Agent Prime. They are already working hard to eliminate all traces of dust from your extended absence. I have also taken the liberty of alerting your neighbors that you are not to be disturbed while on holiday. It is the high season on Nab and many of the estates are currently occupied.”

  “Thank you for that,” Sno said as his turn came up in the queue. “I am not in the mood for reminiscences.”

  “I assumed you would not be, Agent Prime,” Ledora said. “I have received favorable responses from all but one of your closest neighbors.”

  “All but one,” Sno said with a smile. “I can guess who the holdout is.”

  “That would be a Ms. Veben Doab,” Ledora said.

  “I know,” Sno said.

  The wormhole portal flashed a brilliant white and Sno accelerated into trans-space.

  Most of the process was automated, despite Sno insisting on doing the piloting. There were few races in the galaxy that could handle the disorienting effects that entering trans-space had on the body. Humans were not one of those races. The ship’s portal protocols filtered out the majority of the visual mess that would have sent Sno into a semi-coma while also adjusting the grav drive so that Sno didn’t feel like his insides were being torn apart.

  Once the ship had stabilized, Sno was able to blink a few times and smile at the swirling mass of chaos that filled his ship’s view shield. Virtual instruments on the control console beeped and blinked, all part of elaborate holo simulations so beings knew the ship was working. Sno hated those simulations and knew Mix had engaged them on purpose to mess with him because of his request to have the ship ready early.

  Sno smiled and banished the virtual instruments. He set up a protocol to alert him when the sh
ip was about to exit trans-space. Then he eased back farther in his seat and activated his comm. He waited for the all-clear sound to tell him that his comm was encrypted and secure then dialed in a specific signature.

  “You have been graced with reaching Ms. Veben Doab, but unfortunately, I am unavailable at the moment,” a woman’s cultured voice said. “Please leave your comm signature and any message you would like. I might return the favor. I might not. The whims of a woman such as myself cannot be predicted.”

  Sno’s smile widened. “V, it’s Denman. I’m on the way home and need to make sure you aren’t there waiting for me. I’ve had a bad week and need some time alone with my thoughts before I decide whether or not to be social. I can already feel your eyes rolling, but it is true. Give me a couple of days to settle in before you bypass my security protocols and grace me with your presence.”

  Sno almost disconnected.

  “Oh, and I know you have been raiding my liquor stock, so please replenish the pantry before I arrive, will you? Love you, V. See you in a few days.”

  Sno disconnected and checked his travel status. Two hours before exiting trans-space. Three more legs of similar length and three more wormhole portals to go through before he reached the Tchor System, home of the planet Nab. That gave him some time to begin his own self-debriefing.

  “Ledora, please integrate memory data into the ship’s console, specifically of my mission on Egthak,” Sno said.

  “I will need authorization to override the ship’s security protocols, Agent Prime,” Ledora responded. “I am a house AI and not cleared for mission recall.”

  “Right. New ship,” Sno said. He waved his wrist across the control console and toggled through the security protocol menu. He found personal memory data to ship integration and authorized Ledora’s access to that as well as several other of the ship’s functions that would make his journey much easier.

  “You are now cleared, Ledora,” Sno said. “Please begin integration.”

  “Thank you, Agent Prime,” Ledora replied.

  Like all SSD agents, Sno had a memory recall chip embedded deep within his brain. It wasn’t like playback from an ocular implant, but it worked well enough in case an agent was incapacitated or couldn’t quite recall a specific memory.