a mission.
The admiral entered the room and they all came to attention until he told them to take their seats. Kelly again had taken a back row seat, but the admiral motioned him to come sit at the main table.
Kelly moved up and CDR Wilton beamed the briefing slides onto his pocket tablet. Kelly settled back as the room lights dimmed.
The admiral looked at him and said, “Kelly, I don’t know scout ships like you do, so don’t let me do anything stupid.”
Kelly said, “Aye aye, sir.”
CPT Chen presented a well thought out plan and Kelly could see no flaws in it. Provided Alistair found the Debran women, Kelly would take the Vigilant down in close proximity to their location, far enough away to not alert security forces, but not so far as to impede the platoon closing on the location and subduing the security forces. All that was missing was the women’s location. Kelly hoped Alistair was still safe.
Alistair had already checked out the security HQ. It was a guardhouse and nothing more. He observed it from across the street in an alley for an hour before sending in one of his bugs. The flying sensor, disguised to resemble a moth, flew across the street. It searched for an entrance and quickly passed through the door as it was held open to let a guard with a heavy box through. Alistair watched its progress through the facility.
He went through room by room and found nothing but duty personnel, bunks of sleeping Ascetics, and assorted supplies. After it had mapped out the facility and seen inside every room, Alistair had the moth return to him. He held open its box a few minutes later and the moth flew in for a landing. Alistair closed the box and left the alley, heading for his next target, the Defense HQ.
It was a good ways off so he picked up the pace, looking like a late shift worker in a hurry to get home. He favored alleys and used them whenever they were going in his direction. It was starting to get light and almost time for a report. He sat down in an alley near what looked like a vegetable garden and composed his report. He must have been too focused on it, because he suddenly realized there was a man standing in front of him.
The man looked down at him and asked, “You aren’t planning to steal my herbs, now are ya?”
Alistair, caught off guard, stuttered for a second or two and composed himself.
“No, I’m not a thief. I’m on my day off and trying to get to the park downtown. I seem to be lost.”
The man looked at him like he didn’t believe him and asked, “Why are you out so early?”
“It’s my first day off and I wanted to get there early. I hear they have a flea market and I wanted to see if I could find uniform insignia. I collect them.”
The man softened his stare as he listened to him. “Man, you are all messed up. The flea market is on Fifth Day. The only thing you’ll find in the park today is people flying kites.”
Alistair stood up, looked down, and kicked the ground.
“There you go. My day off is wasted. I know my boss won’t let me change days. If it wasn’t for bad luck, I’d have no luck at all.”
The man laughed and said, “Come with me. We were just getting ready for breakfast. You look like you could use a meal.”
Alistair, realizing he had no local currency, tried to beg off. “I can’t afford to eat here and I never accept a gift when I can’t give one back.”
The young man held out his hand, “I’m Russell. I work here and my woman is the chef. Breakfast is on the owner, who is probably sleeping off last night’s drinking. What he don’t know won’t hurt him.”
Alistair went with the young man into the restaurant, not knowing how to get away without raising further suspicions than he had already.
Inside he was introduced to Sally, the chef. She asked him where he was from.
Alistair answered truthfully, that he was from Archimedes. This elicited a strong reaction from Sally.
“So you’re from the lost settlement?”
Alistair answered that he was.
She asked, “What was it like to quickly go from the 19th Century to the 23rd?”
He responded that it was easy for some, not so easy for others. Some embraced it. Others ran from it. Those that couldn’t make the transition were allowed to stay on Archimedes in a nineteenth century enclave, protected from the outside universe. He occasionally heard of people leaving the enclave and of others entering the enclave who could no longer cope with outside. Himself, he enjoyed the future.
She asked him how he got here on Barataria and he changed the subject by saying that he had been invited in for breakfast, not twenty questions. Sally apologized and started heating three skillets. A handful of eggs were set next to the first. Bacon went in the second. Potatoes went into the third.
Alistair asked if there was someplace he could wash up and was directed to the staff restroom. He closed the door behind him, pulled out his communicator, uploaded the report, and sent it. After he put away his communicator and washed his hands, he went out to the smells of glorious food cooking. It was real food, not anything processed or manufactured.
“My, but that smells wonderful. I haven’t had real food since I left Archimedes.”
Sally spoke up, “Well, that’s all you’ll get here. We don’t use replicators or ready-made meals. Everything is made fresh.”
Sally moved over to a prep table, scooped out equal quantities of eggs, bacon, and potatoes onto three plates. Alistair was handed a plate and flatware and they all sat down at a small table in the kitchen. She let Alistair get his first fork full of eggs then asked, “Now who are you really? You may be from Archimedes, but you sure as hell aren’t from here. Are you from security checking up on us?”
Alistair took a bite of bacon chewed it and asked, “What makes you think I’m not from here?”
She looked at him like he was an idiot, pointed at her neck, and said, “First thing, you don’t have a scar on your Adams apple where they put the chip in. This means you are either slumming or from security. Which are ya?”
“Neither. Let me ask you something. Do you like it here living in slavery?”
Sally exploded, “Do I like it? Do I like it? What are you, a moron? Of course I don’t like it. Who the hell would like being someone else’s property?”
Alistair let her calm down some and said, “I’m with the cavalry. In a day or two all hell is going to break loose. This pirates’ den is going to be turned upside down.”
She looked at him with wariness in her eyes, “What are you trying to pull?”
“I’m not trying to pull anything. These pirates thought they were invulnerable in this star cluster. That is no longer the case. The Galactic Republic is tired of their raids and retribution is coming. You say you have a chip. Show me where.”
Sally put down her fork and stood up. She pointed to where her Adam’s apple would be if she were a man. “See the scar?”
Alistair pulled his hand sensor from his pocket and waved it at Sally’s throat. He did the same for Russell.
“I don’t know what they told you, but there is no chip in your neck. I bet it hurt like hell when they poked you, too.”
“What do you mean there is no chip? If I didn’t have a chip I couldn’t travel to the moon and I’ve been there twice.”
“There is no chip in your neck.”
“But I could feel it after they put it in!”
“What you felt was probably a grain of rice or the scar from them poking you with a big damn needle.”
Russell said, “Wave that thing at my neck again.”
Alistair did the same for him and said, “No chip.”
“This is what they use in some prisons to cut down on escape attempts. They’re cheaper than using real chips that prisoners sometimes cut out.”
Sally asked him, “Okay, now that that is settled, why are you here?”
“I’m looking for three recent captives. These are three women that are worth a lot of credits in the form of ransom.”
Sally and Russell looked at each other and exclaimed at the same time, “That’s what that was.”
