“I see. Now, have you cleaned the consul’s office yet?”
“Oh, I’m not the one who does that, sir. And that would have been handled yesterday, by people brought in especially for the work.”
“Oh? Sintaran citizens, perhaps?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know, sir. I would think it most likely.”
“Are you Sintaran?”
“Oh, no, sir! I’m from Brado, in Annalia. But I moved here about a year and a half ago.”
“Very good. Are you finished here?” Niebecker gestured at the floor.
“Yes, sir. This was the last hallway.”
“Come with me, then.”
Niebecker led Lindberg – better known on Sintar as Dominick Ashton, Investigations Lead for the Imperial Police Headquarters, and currently on assignment for the Imperial Guard’s intelligence group – to his office. As they reached the door, Niebecker put a finger to his lips, indicating Ashton should remain silent, and gesturing for him to stay put. Then Niebecker produced a small device from his pocket, stepped inside the door of the office suite, and began sweeping the room. It was obvious to Ashton that he was looking for bugs. Of course, he found several – Ashton had, himself, given anonymous instructions to ensure they were there, as it would be expected – and Niebecker pulled the small devices from their hiding places and slipped them into a special bag. The devices included both cameras and microphones, and there were two of each in every room of the consul’s office suite, which comprised three rooms: reception, assistant to the consul, and the consul’s office proper. Then Niebecker turned to Ashton.
“Is there an incinerator in the consulate?”
“Yes, Your Excellency,” Ashton replied. “It’s downstairs in the basement. We mostly use it for burning the trash, though it’s also used for document destruction.”
“Good. See that these,” he handed Ashton the bag containing the bugs, “get placed in it as soon as possible.”
“Do you want me to do it now, sir?”
“Yes, run on and do that, then come back here and do a quick cleaning, beginning with my personal office and going outward, if you don’t mind. While you’re incinerating those, I’ll have a chat with the consulate facilities manager. I want to ensure the cleaning company who did this never works here again.”
“Yes, sir.”
When Ashton returned, Niebecker was sitting behind his desk, apparently going over some paperwork; while all of the consulate staffers had VR nanites, the penetration of nanitic technology in most of the other star nations, even including the other gorilla in the room, the Democracy of Planets, tended to be low. Most paperwork really was paper of one sort or another. Ashton rapped his knuckles lightly on the doorframe.
“I’m back, sir,” he said, as Niebecker looked up.
“Ah, so you are. Well, I’ve talked to the facilities manager, and he apologized for the little problem; it seems he hasn’t completely staffed back up yet since the last group decamped for Annalia so hastily – did you know about that?”
“I… heard something about it, sir,” Ashton said, discreet. “When I, uh, emigrated here, I was, um, briefed on a few things in case I was ever, um, needed.”
“Right. Good. You can probably help me, then. Most of our network for that sort of thing was taken down – what we had on Sintar was essentially wiped out – and we’re rebuilding from here. Surprisingly, the facilities manager is clueless about such things, and we’re sadly lacking in security; most of them were part of the network, and too valuable to be allowed to be arrested and executed pell-mell.”
“Of course, sir. That must be why I was called in.”
“Most likely, yes. So. For the time being, at least, how would you like to be my personal cleaning man?”
“Excuse me, sir?”
“I need someone trustworthy that I can keep close, Mr. Lindberg,” Niebecker said. “There are things going on between Sintar and the other star nations, things that we need to watch. And things that we need to find out, if you understand me.”
“I… think so, sir.”
“Good. There won’t actually be that much cleaning I’ll need from you; I plan to live off-site for the time, in order to… try to build up networking while… less likely to be observed. I’m more apt to need you for sweeping for bugs, running errands, handing off items from one consulate to another, and one office to another within this consulate. Would this be acceptable to you?”
“Sort of a messenger, sir? Yes, I can probably manage that. Just be aware that, um, while I was briefed on a few things, I don’t necessarily have the, uh, the training.”
“Oh, that is no matter,” Niebecker said, waving a dismissive hand. “I can give you instructions, and if you follow them closely, all will be well. Do you have the Annalian nanite system?”
“No, sir. I got the Sintaran ones when I arrived, but my family wasn’t…” Ashton broke off delicately, allowing an implication of my family wasn’t well-to-do enough to afford them.
“Ah, of course,” Niebecker said smoothly. “Well, if we ever move you up in the network, we might want to see about it. But for now, that actually might do well. You can pass as Sintaran, that way.”
“If you like, I can try to contact someone on the black market and see about a… I’m not sure how it works… some sort of ‘new identity’ nanitic system?” Ashton offered, pretending to be compliant and helpful. “I can’t really afford it, and it makes me a little nervous to think… but if it’s needed?”
“Let’s keep that in our hip pockets,” Niebecker suggested. “It’s a potentially useful idea, though, and might be good in future. If it comes to that, I have some, ah, discretionary funds, provided for such things, and I would be happy
