The Radical Factor (Stone Blade Book 3) Page 11

  Ferrel started a sarcastic reply which turned into a yawn. Before he could finish Micah slapped the chog into his hand.

  "Thanks, my brother." Ferrel sweetened his chog heavily then sipped for a blissful moment. "This has gone well past irritating! I chopped through one full layer of encryption, that's two counting the virus, only to find a third! Most annoying. At first I thought simple recursive encryption was a bastard to break but now I may revise that opinion."

  "Did you two even sleep?" Kidwell pulled chog, lit a drugstick and sat. "In bed, I mean, and without your machine, Charlie."

  "I'm more interested in results," said Ionoski as he sat, "Charles?"

  "Three layers of crypto, Ted. Three! That reeks to orbit and a microjump!"

  "Defense in depth," said Micah, "Very effective when you have the troops for it."

  "So do we," asked Ionoski, "Doesn't each layer of encryption diminish the size of the data, Charlie?"

  "It does, but so far these crypto algorithms are pretty light. Including the virus we've lost just over eight percent of the data." Ferrel pulled a sour face. "If there's not a lot of that this is going to be one ruddy long day. That kind of serious layering I don't really want to contemplate. Rut!"

  Ionoski considered this. "You keep working on that, Charlie. Micah, you or Dave can help him with that. I think the rest of us need to work on the other data you all found. That and check the contents of the rooms. You did all use your holocasters, yes? Polar. Vera, I'd like a name on this stape and an official description of his business. See if you can find that. I know it's a lot to ask with not much data but we still have a day of Feast to work."

  "It would be a hades of a lot easier if they had a system for locating people," said Micah.

  "They do," replied Kidwell, "The problem is that we don't."

  Truth!

  ***

  "Abdul Fazi Charraud," said Ferrel suddenly, "Last layer of encryption squelched! I haven't attacked the data yet but that's who owns it!"

  "Good job," said Ionoski.

  Micah looked up in relief. He and the rest spent the morning working on the data from their other two targets. That particular task was more tedious than complex but the data was poorly and inconsistently formatted and optically scanned from paper, which only complicated matters. The data from the primitive cores didn't fuse smoothly either and making it fit required a lot of touch.

  "You have to let me go out tonight, Ted," said Kidwell, "I know you didn't have an op planned but what we've found from these records has me itching. I'm about two millis away from slapping Katie just for fun."

  Siffai grinned and Ionoski chuckled.

  "Besides," continued Kidwell, "I haven't had a chance to read a crowd since Zuvi Minor and I plus-plus want to try some of the ones here, especially during this festival. I have some tentative baseline data from your and Micah's holos but that's negative-sigma against the real thing."

  "Slib," said Ionoski after a moment of consideration, "Micah, you and Dave. No targets and be back before midnight. We don't know what happens when the Feast ends and we don't want to discover bad things the hard way. In fact, try not to stray too far from the port."

  ***

  Micah forced himself to calmness and worked to project extra menace. To his eyes Kidwell didn't make as good a false Zehbol'ach as had Siffai, but not so to the other folk on the street. No one bothered them as they walked about, looking for crowds. Although the people celebrated almost as hard as on the previous night the crowd size had decreased and the people within them showed signs of fatigue. Occasionally they encountered other Zehbol'ach heading in other directions. That put Micah's nerves over the top but nothing came of it. At times Micah felt eyes on his back afterward; he very carefully did not look back and the feeling vanished not long afterwards.

  Forty-five minutes before midnight Kidwell pronounced herself happy. They had reached their farthest foray away from the port and Micah gladly turned back toward it. What nuggets of information she had Micah knew not but, unlike Ferrel, she required no fancy desserts to share them. By his mien Barstein was ready to leave, too. The crowds shrank further as the revelers finally reveled themselves out. Feast done, Dhu's followers happy and everyone ready for normal life to resume the next day.

  They had just stepped into a deserted and dimly-lit street almost within sight of the port when six black-robed figures stepped out in front of them. Before Micah could react another three stepped out behind them. Micah heard Kidwell's sharp intake of breath. One of the first six moved forward and the other five spread out behind him.

  "I am Ammi Larruk from the Miktown Great Temple of the Fists of Dhu." He pulled back his sleeve and thrust his arm into the feeble light. "You are strange to me. Show me your marks."

  Micah bowed, which impressed Larruk not at all, and approached him. The other Zehbol'ach took ready stances and the two on the ends drew their daggers. By a faint whisper behind at least one of those two had as well. Micah took hold of his sleeve and made to pull it up. He looked at Kidwell.

  "Quick and quiet," he said. Then he attacked.

  "Infidel! INFIDELS!!"

  Micah didn't know who started shouting; he had enough on his plate to keep him busy. Larruk attacked hard and fast and Micah worked to battle him and as many others as he could. When Larruk attacked, two others tried to take Micah down. He blocked and feinted back, then kicked the knees out from under one of them.

  Kidwell grunted as she attacked hard and received one back, but she didn't fall. Micah snapped his elbow into the throat of the man trying to take him from behind, and Larruk landed a hard punch into his ribs. Before he could recover Micah grabbed his wrist, broke it and applied a nerve grip to his elbow. Twisting under another attack and working to maintain his grip, Micah kicked another attacker in the gut. He fell but wouldn't stay down long; Micah's need to keep Larruk held robbed the kick of most of its force. Barstein had dropped one opponent and now swapped punches, kicks and blocks with another as he fought to protect Micah and Kidwell from behind.

  Larruk spun and kicked. Micah released his grip, ducked, grabbed his leg and levered him off-balance. Kidwell connected solidly and her opponent fell. Micah spun sideways, dropped one surprised foe and engaged another; the man he'd kicked, now recovered. Larruk switched to Kidwell, landed a solid strike and this time she dropped to one knee.

  Abandoning subtlety Micah charged the two now between himself and Kidwell. One of those, an knife-wielder, tried to cut Micah. Micah blocked and grabbed then levered that man knife-first into the other. That man gurgled and fell and Micah dispatched the now-knifeless man.

  Larruk drew his knife and cut at Kidwell but she had a trick planned. As his knife approached she power-punched straight up between Larruk's legs. The force of it lifted him off the ground; he grunted and folded around her fist, thudded to the ground and didn't rise. Barstein finished his work but now more shouts sounded around them.

  "Stunners?" Kidwell wheezed but spoke the word gamely.

  Micah drew his stunner and applied it liberally. The dim flash, still bright against the darkness, started even more shouts.

  "Vera, message Ted. The puppy's rutted orbit-wide, now. Dave, help her. Tell Ted emergency preflight!"

  Thoughts flashed through Micah's head and he grabbed Larruk's limp body and threw it over his shoulder. He was heavy but they didn't have too far to go.

  With nothing to lose now they ran full-out for the port. Ionoski had the ramp down and waited at the top.

  "We're as hot as we can be," he said, "Who's our guest?"

  "Possible hostage if we need one," said Micah, "He's Ammi Larruk. CHARLIE!"

  "Here, my brother," said the closest comm panel, "I'm halfway through e-pre now."

  "Can you do something about the local ordnance? We have a hostage!"

  "Already done and not necessary," came the reply, "I burned what net they have and trashed everything connected to it."

  Micah dumped Larruk and started for the
bridge. "Ted, someone, strap him down and bind him."

  Micah found Ferrel true to his word, as always. Most of the emergency preflight had completed and the ship would be hot soon. Micah powered up the gravitics, ignored the comm and guided the ship toward an open spot on the tarmac. Ionoski reported everyone else strapped down just as the last light turned green.

  Micah tapped in the panic code and blasted the ship upward. She still didn't have any zip, but what she had would do. He applied as much thrust as he could and before long they left the last wisp of atmosphere behind them.

  "Any company," he asked.

  "For truth, " asked Ferrel, "These are Esavians. We're clear, my brother. No. Wait. Surface launch detected. Looks like missiles, hot and fast."

  "Got 'em," said Micah, "How soon can you plot a microjump?"

  "Well, since a late night dessert is out... Done! Go!"

  Micah hit the button and space faded around them.

  ***

  Ferrel worked delicately on Kidwell's ribs. That made her wince, which made Micah wince. That made her roll her eyes.

  "Flames, Micah! For the last time again it was not your fault!"

  Micah debriefed Ionoski quickly but stayed in the room as Ferrel started his work on Kidwell. The ship now floated well above the ecliptic, far away from Allhai Mik's sun, with every system powered to minimum in order to lessen her scan signature.

  "I know Vera, but..."

  "But nothing. Ouch, Charlie, that one hurts, hon." Kidwell spoke normally to Ferrel then speared Micah with a sharp glare. "Besides. How many times have I had to sit where you are and watch Charles patch you up?"

  "But..."

  "Close it or hose it! Burnit, Micah." She sighed in exasperation then grimaced as it hit her ribs. "I am no less an agent than you are! I knew the risks when I signed the papers. Just because you're better at fighting doesn't mean I'm - careful, Charlie, that one's tender too - doesn't mean you have to wrap me in padding and keep me from ever taking a hit!"

  "Sela'hai," said Barstein, "Your fighting is a thing of beauty, dosha."

  "Relax, hon," said Ferrel, "He treats me the same way. Maybeso it's a good thing for him to get an idea of what it's like to patch up a friend who took a drubbing, truth?"

  "No blather," replied Kidwell, "He does need some of his own dish-out."

  "I'm still here," said Micah.

  "Indeed you are, dosha," said Siffai, "You are also being very silly. You are a team. Comrades. Partners! If some daksha stupid fellow agent of mine tried to keep me from the fight I would take his liver as well as my foe's. Would you treat me so, Micah?"

  "I'd protect you as much as I would Vera, Ted, Charlie or David, burn it all! That's what I do best."

  "As we would you, silly man. Do not steal all the glory for yourself."

  Micah scowled at that, rejoinder ready.

  "They're right, Micah," said Ionoski, "No plan survives first contact. And..."

  "We got firsted," finished Micah, "Slib, Ted, but I still fell bad about it."

  "So do I," said Ionoski surprisingly, "We weren't finished there. We were making a lot of progress, most of it thanks to you, and who knows what else we could have accomplished? That does not matter now. What happened happened and we can't change it. Second Rule of the Mission?"

  "Learn from failure. Was this?"

  "You seem to think so," said Ionoski, "I'm more concerned about Rule Five."

  "Always have a plan," said Micah instantly. Then, "The Ammi?"

  "Dead on the beam. What are your plans for him?"

  Larruk now lay in sickbay, restrained and sedated, with a medical monitor to alert them when he woke.

  "I had planned on using him as a hostage," said Micah, "Had the need arisen. I thought about leaving him on the tarmac but the plasma wash would have killed him. I probably should have dropped him outside the port."

  "Probably," agreed Ionoski, "But you didn't. First Rule. How do we make a success out of this?"

  "Source of information," asked Micah, "He is an Ammi. That means great knowledge of Dhu."

  "He will not talk," said Siffai, "He will die before he betrays Dhu, his brethren or himself."

  "He will talk," said Ionoski, "He will do so gladly. But not here. We need to get him to a trained interrogation team."

  "Minor problem," said Ferrel, now down to the fine work, "We're not in the same galaxy with sanity if we try to reach the League from here. Even stretching the links we'll need at least seven. Eight would be better and ten would not be overly cautious."

  "What about Jengiil space," asked Kidwell, "We know we can make it through that."

  "They do have LINC, Vera," said Ferrel, "So do the Esavians. I don't know if the Jeng respect our formerly hospitable hosts well enough to hold us at their request, or that the Esavians would even request it, but I would rather not find out the hard way."

  "Mekhajan," suggested Micah.

  "Possible but TLI," said Ionoski, "Rumor says they're on at least non-hostile terms with the Esavians. I don't know if that's mutual avoidance or simple respect but they're definitely not friendly toward the League and I don't know if they'd respect our Jengiil cert. Mark that one as a last resort."

  Siffai and Barstein called up a nav chart. Then both of them smiled.

  "We are within range of Semid space, Ted," said Barstein, "Did you plan to mention that? We are within very distant range of Bantorre and Chalo. We need one navigation stop but only one. With Charles' skill at astrogation he can make it brief."

  Ferrel did a quick plot. "Polar. The plot from there to Semid space is at most thirty minutes past a solid fix and that's through Jengiil space. If they can tag us that fast I'll eat this ship whole."

  Ionoski nodded. "We do that, then. Dave, which world should we pick?"

  "Chalo," said Barstein instantly, "For reasons that will become clear when we land."

  Chapter 6. Hey! We're Not Done!

  After a quick communication from Barstein GC Chalo shot Micah a priority wire. By the time the hull cooled an impressive group of people had gathered at the bottom of the ramp. Siffai and Barstein spoke with them briefly and Micah and the others found themselves escorted to a very nice lounge area with four rooms attached to it.

  "Please be welcome, friends," said one of the Chalovians, "I am Zek Movvi and we are most pleased to receive you. More so since Katie and David spoke of your purpose for being here. If you wish it there are refreshments and resting quarters here. You also have secure LINC communication if you wish to contact the League. Master Ionoski, will you accompany me please?"

  Ionoski nodded and left with Movvi. Kidwell sprawled in a comfortable chair and Ferrel investigated the refreshments. Micah pulled out a cube and sat at the LINC terminal.

  ***

  "Our friend the Ammi will talk," assured Movvi, "Of that you may be certain. He will talk and he will not be harmed in any way." Then with a nod to Ionoski, "Of course we will share all he tells."

  The four League agents now occupied very nice rooms in Chalo Down. Much nicer than the lounge at the port, these also had a secure common area and workroom. Ferrel checked for bugs as a matter of course and pronounced all the rooms clean. After Movvi presented the rooms he assured them that Siffai and Barstein would join them as soon as they debriefed.

  "Our most pressing need," said Ionoski, "is information, access and secure facilities. I'm assuming these rooms are secure? Excellent." Then as Ferrel cleared his throat. "Oh yes. Technical assistance if you can spare it."

  That puzzled Movvi. "Of course we can spare it! SIF7 alone would command that, to say nothing of your mission here. Anything you need we will gladly provide!"

  Ferrel opened his mouth but Kidwell overtalked him.

  "Hush, Charlie." Then to Movvi, "A datajack and a wide pipe will satisfy him, seigneur."

  ***

  Over the next few days Movvi proved true to his word. While Ferrel worked on Abdul Fazi Charraud and his data, Micah, Barstein and two local burners
worked on the metavirus.

  "It's a lot of dates, transfer transactions and prices," said Ferrel of the data, "I know for certain truth it's in code and I haven't found the key. Yet."

  "How is this code," asked Micah, "It looks pretty ordinary to me."

  "Because I plus-plus doubt Seigneur Charraud has room in his back yard for fifty meat cattle and feed."

  "Maybe he owns a farm?"

  "Then why did he list the final delivery and receipt point as his business in town? For that matter why would he purchase non-soya steaks at a premium price two transactions later? No, my brother, it's a code of some kind. We shall discover it's meaning; all we need is some more time!"

  Micah flowed through his routines, all the while visualizing the fight with Larruk and his Zehbol'ach Dhu. They fought well and they fought well together but Micah knew he could do better. As he worked he saw each punch and kick and his mind gave him the counter. When he finished his set routines he began improvising ones designed specifically to take down the black-robed guards.

  Ferrel appeared, amazingly, and began working through his routines. He did an outstanding job of them and when he and Micah both reached a stopping point he spoke.

  "Because I needed a break. My brother, those dates and inventory items do not make any sense. I needed to let the problem cool off a while and I thought a workout might help. Perhaps spark an idea or give me a different perspective."

  Micah handed Ferrel a damper and donned one himself. Ferrel fought well. Understandably, since he'd trained with Micah from their first day at Intelligence. One of the main tenets Micah taught was fighting to strength. Ferrel was intrinsically quick and tricky so Micah taught him to utilize those qualities and to take advantage of them. After a good, solid workout, complete with bruises on both sides, they stopped for water.

  "If I didn't know better, and I'm not sure I do," said Ferrel, "I'd swear the numbers are code, never mind the inventory. But codes have patterns, burnit, and these don't!"

  "Stretch and cool, Charles. We both know I'm not you but I'll look at the data. Maybe I can at least spark the spark of an idea."