Molehunt (13 page)

The next day Maximus learned that Anneke had been summoned to appear before the Ethics and Standards Committee regarding the rather drastic retirement of Commander Viktus. Young Captain Arvakur was conducting the criminal investigation.

Maximus glowed with triumph. He was also tempted to activate the ‘bomb' on Se'atma Minor, but counselled himself to have patience. All good things come to those who wait.

Next he received a coded message from his Quesadan handler. When Maximus read it he flushed in anger. It was a
demand
.

The Quesada Corporation wanted the latest defence readouts for the quadrant that buffered the Cygnus Sector from RIM Delta Sector. It was one of a dozen RIM-controlled sectors, a buffer region known as the Non-Aligned Zone. It was a free-fire zone, covering an area of several cubic light years, and jamming technologies interfered with information flow between RIM-dominated stars.

Drown them in pig shit
, Maximus thought.
I'm not ready
.

It was definitely not a request. He deciphered more of the code string.
Comply or risk talima
, he read.
Talima. Not good
.

Talima was the complete ex-communication of someone from life itself. Not just a declaration of open season or fat'wa on that person for anyone who wanted to earn fast and serious money, but a quasi-legal termination of their
rights
as a human being. It was a throwback to an almost medieval system of rites, challenges, honour and obligation. In this deadly social pressure cooker, the existence of each citizen had been assigned a very simple and negotiable market value. They could be bought and sold.

Maximus knew that he could survive a talima, but it would be highly inconvenient. He disliked the prospect of unwelcome attention and scrutiny even more than the danger. Besides, the deal would also be off, and right now he needed it.

He contacted Kilroy and told him to monitor the Anneke Longshadow hearings and shadow her. He could deal with her in his next spare minute.

He was pondering how he should go about stealing the highly secure top-secret defence readouts, when the answer walked past him. Young Esprin Harbage was back from his leave, and he looked disgruntled.

‘Why the long face?' Maximus asked.

Esprin, eager for someone to complain to, scowled dramatically. ‘The bloody idiots! They think I'm a penetration agent. Me! Five generations of Rimmers, that's what my family has produced. Five! Bloody idiots, I say.'

‘It'll blow over,' said Maximus, with all the sympathy of a counsellor.

Esprin shook his head. ‘Maybe. But until then I'm on light duties with restricted access. How can I do my job?'

Maximus came around his desk and laid a hand on Esprin's shoulder. ‘Look, maybe I can help.'

Esprin looked up. ‘You? What could you do?'

‘It could be simple. Chances are you've already been cleared and the paperwork is log jammed.'

‘You think so?'

‘Bound to be.'

Esprin brightened. ‘If there's anything you could do … I'd owe you big time.'

‘Probably big-time for me but small-time for you,' said Maximus, making a joke of it.

Two days later Esprin was back at work in Counter Intelligence, his security rating fully restored. Five days after that, he was standing in a dark corridor at two in the morning, sweating with terror.

It had all started twenty-four hours earlier. Esprin had invited Maximus to his apartment to thank him for getting his rating restored and clearing him of suspicion. He broke open a bottle of sixty-year-old lissa, a beverage similar to Terran whisky. They had toasted Esprin's success, and talked about the current galactic situation.

At the end of the evening Maximus had gotten up to go. As they shook hands Esprin had thanked Maximus again, and assured him that if there was anything he could do for him, he had only to ask.

‘Actually there is, now that you mention it,' Maximus had replied.

‘Anything,' said Esprin exuberantly. ‘Name it, and it's yours.'

‘How about a copy of the defence readouts from the Non-Aligned Zone?'

Esprin stared at him a moment then burst out laughing. Maximus laughed too.

‘No problem,' said Esprin. ‘I'll just walk into a heavily-secured site in RIM, download the data onto a cube, and stroll out.'

They both laughed again. Maximus removed something from his pocket. It was a wrist-comm unit, the type worn by people who lacked neural jacks in their necks. It resembled an old-style wristwatch.

Now Esprin frowned.

‘Download the data to your terminal. Use a one gig per millisecond-compression rate and make sure this comm unit is within eight centimetres of your screen. It'll do the rest. When you're finished go to the toilet, press this metal needle into the cavity on the side of the comm unit and wait till you hear a soft click. When you do, remove the needle carefully. On the end of it there will be a tiny sphere. Swallow it.'

Esprin stared at Maximus, bewilderment spreading across his face.

‘After you swallow it, Esprin, work late. Whatever you do, do not pee! Got that? If you pee, I'll kill you. The data capsule will end up in your bladder and will exit your body in your urine. So let me say this again. Do not pee. Go before you swallow the capsule. You'll be in the toilet anyway..Have you got
all that?'

Esprin was waiting for the punch line. Maximus sighed and removed a needler from inside his tunic. Esprin's eyes went wide at the sight of the illegal – almost mythical – weapon.

‘Good, you already know that these things really hurt. Now listen carefully, your life will depend on it. Earlier tonight I placed an undetectable colloid in your lissa. By now it has spread through your bloodstream.'

Esprin gasped softly. ‘I don't understand, Maximus. What are you saying?'

‘I've poisoned you, and I have the only antidote. The poison will remain in your system till I give you the neutraliser. Until then, you will need to take the antidote daily or you will die in agony, and pretty messily as well. Here is a sample of the colloid. You can get it checked discreetly almost anywhere in the Draco Quarter. You may want to take a sample of the lissa in your glass as well.'

Esprin was sober by now. ‘You're serious, aren't you?'

‘Deadly serious.'

‘Why are you doing this?'

Maximus sighed – then slapped Esprin, hard. The youth gasped then backed away, whimpering.

‘Esprin, Esprin, learn to listen. I want the complete defence strategic readouts of the non-aligned quadrant. You have instructions for getting them.

You know what will happen if you do not. Do you hear me now?'

Esprin nodded.

‘Good.'

‘I thought you were my friend,' muttered Esprin.

‘Lots of people think I am their friend,' said Maximus.

Esprin leaned against a wall, submerged in shadow and fear. He had done everything Maximus had asked him to do, including the analysis of the poison. The chemist confirmed the nature of the colloid and even volunteered its effects, which were as disgusting as Maximus had promised. Or worse.

‘Why'd you want to know?' the chemist called as Esprin left. ‘Didn't swallow some, did you?'

‘Yeah, I did and I'm dead, can't you see?' Esprin called back.

Esprin started at a noise, then realised it was his teeth chattering. He clenched his jaw and made his way back to his desk. It was late, already past two in the morning. There was no one else around but the guards. He had already been vetted by two of them, but he was clean. Besides, it was not unusual for cadets to work late, especially the ambitious ones.

Esprin's only ambition now was to stay alive.

He got to his desk, which sat in a lonely pool of light in a large darkened room. He sat down, crossing his legs tightly. He had forgotten to pee, and now he was busting.

It was all such a nightmare. Two weeks ago he had been on vacation and chatting to the beautiful Anneke. Now his life was hanging by his bladder muscles.

Maximus had been adamant about not pissing; yet he needed to wait two hours before trying to leave. Any earlier and there was a chance the exit detectors would pick up the presence of the capsule in his system.

Esprin had asked Maximus why he didn't use a worm.

Maximus had laughed. ‘Use your head, Esprin. What e-m worm could hold tens of thousands of gigabytes of data?'

Esprin felt the sting of Maximus's contempt. He watched the clock on his computer tick away the minutes. Time was moving with agonising slowness and his bladder seemed filled with razor blades.

He tried to work, but his fingers moved clumsily over the holoboard, moving the wrong projections of letters and symbols. It was hard to work with death looking over his shoulder.

Esprin cruised the internal net, logging onto sites at random. Suddenly the screen cleared and a face stared out at him.

‘What are you doing, Cadet?' The speaker was a handsome young man in his early twenties. He had jet-black hair and piercing eyes that frightened Esprin. The insignia on his tunic indicated he was with the Investigation Branch.

‘Sir?'

‘I'm Captain Arvakur. Our sweep shows you've been sitting at your computer for the last twenty minutes doing nothing. Are you ill? You certainly look it.'

Esprin swallowed. What should he do? He cursed himself that he could never think quickly on his feet.

‘Yes sir, I'm not feeling well.'

‘Then go to your quarters or report to the infirmary.'

‘But I've got all this work to do.'

Arvakur peered at him. ‘What work? You've just returned to duty, Cadet. Your file says so. You haven't yet been assigned a full slate.' Arvakur leaned closer to his pickup. ‘You wait right there. I'm coming over.'

The screen went dead.

Esprin panicked. He grabbed a flask from his drawer and ran to the toilet. Fumbling, he removed the lid from the flask and peed into it, being
very
careful not to spill even one drop. Then he resealed it, tied the wrist comm to the flask's field webbing, and flushed the entire thing down the toilet.

Then he stood back. And smiled proudly. He had done something really clever. The kind of thing
real
spies did when they got themselves into a tight spot.

He took a deep breath and hurried back to his desk. He was still shaking and clammy, but the awful fear of discovery had been lifted from him.

The only fear he had now was that he would die horribly. Somehow, that seemed the lesser of the two evils.