Shedding the Demon (14 page)

“No sir, no kids.” He looked pensive for a moment, then he
snapped his fingers and his scarred and beat-up face lit with excitement. “She’d
go home!” Alexander nodded, which encouraged him to continue, “Home, if not to
mom and dad, then to friends and family. We need to find out her home.”

“Yes!” Alexander said.
This guy might be smarter than he
looks—at least I sure hope so!
He picked up a screen from his desk and
transferred the personal file to it from his HUD.

“Now Reave,” he asked, “I see that you’re not really a
Pryke.”

“No sir, I’m not. I’m not from the family, why?”

“I’ll ask the questions. I wonder, what drove you to come
here?”

“Um, I like your methods,” Reave said.

“Uh-huh.” Alexander tapped a finger against his lips. “You’ve
also got quite the list of complaints filed against you. Assault, assault, disorderly
conduct, assault, assault on your commanding officer—” Alexander raised one
eyebrow and looked over the screen, reassessing the man in front of him. “What
can you tell me about all of this?”

Reave stared back at him. “I admit that have a temper, sir,
but if you look into those incidents, I think you’ll find I was right. At least
most of the time.”

“Maybe so.” Alexander poked a few prompts on the screen,
then tossed it on the desk. He leaned forward. “But you haven’t answered my
question.”

Reave’s glare turned cold. “I came here because it gave me
the best chance to kill Truebloods.”

Alexander’s head twitched back involuntarily and he took a
moment to gather his thoughts. “I have to admit, that is not the answer I
expected. Why such hate for the Truebloods?”

“I went through their
education
system. Me and my
sister.” The muscles in his jaw bunched as he chewed on his words. “They took
her away. Said she needed special classes and I never saw her again. After
that, I caused enough trouble that they kicked me out. They tried to arrest me,
but I killed the three Truebloods sent to take me. Killed them with my bare
hands. I ran, and ended up here about ten years ago.”

Alexander leaned back in his chair. “I think we can help
each other Mr. Nachman. But you need to reign it in a little or you’ll
jeopardize the mission.

Alexander looked into the man’s eyes. “Find her, and bring
her to me—alive! I need her knowledge of the Demon if I’m going to subvert him.
She is the key to controlling this weapon.

“This is very important, if she’s dead or unable to help me,
I’ll kill you . . . very slowly. Do you understand?”

“Perfectly, Mr. Pryke, sir.”

“Good. Now, how are you dressed?”

“I got a HUD for communications, but no other enhancements.”

“Hmm, you’re going to need something special for this job. Report
to the Biolectric bay for some work. I’ll contact the boys and set it up.”

After Reave left, Alexander placed a call to Dr. Baksa,
requesting a meeting.

 

**** ****

 

“Wormhole exit complete,” the AI said after what seemed to
be the longest twenty-eight hours of Damon’s life.

“Whew, I’m going to need more entertainment if I’m going on
trips like that again,” he said to himself.

Waiting to read the message from Joann was what really made
the trip seem so long. He couldn’t stop thinking about it the whole time.
Finally, he was able to punch the icon and get a response. The message came up
in text only, written across his vision.

 

 

Damon sat back in the chair and
tried to figure out exactly what Joann was talking about.
How well do I
really know her?
He thought. Her tone and implications sounded eerily
similar to the warnings given by Krych. It made Damon’s skin crawl when he
thought about it too deeply.
That crazy old man may have been closer to the
truth than I realized. Right or wrong, he was crazy, and she might be as crazy
as he is.
The idea certainly didn’t make him feel any better about the
whole situation.
I really do need help sorting this out. Oh, how I wish
Andrea was here.
Damon’s thoughts drifted for a while as he tried to think
of a way to find his home and reunite with the Family and Andrea.

“Hey, ahh, what should I call you?” he addressed the AI.

“You can call me AI, control system, Abyss, or any other
name you’d like to assign.”

“I don’t really want to name you, I’ll call you AI, I guess.”

“Acceptable. What can I help you with?”

“Where can I find this guy,” Damon asked as he sent over the
data on Ken Westron.

The AI processed the information for almost two minutes
before answering, “I cannot determine his current physical location, but I can
find information on him from the recent past. Using your high-level clearance, I
have been able to locate some recent activity in the vicinity of Khadim, the
capital city of Sangupt.”

Damon had never heard the names before, “Where is that?” he
inquired.

The AI produced a three-dimensional holographic map in the
air in front of Damon showing the galaxy from a top-down view. Slowly spinning
and zooming, it showed a highlighted section that was the Consensus taking up almost
half of one of the spiral arms. As the viewpoint moved in, the individual
inhabited systems showed up as small dots with names. Damon knew there were
over two thousand, but it still shocked him to see so many, and yet realize
what a tiny portion of the galaxy it contained. Still zooming dramatically, the
scene finally resolved on a single system; Sangupt. Despite the beautiful
display—the AI seems to have a dramatic flair—he still didn’t know anything
useful about the location.

“Very pretty,” he said, “but I don’t know what it really
means. Show me where we are now, relative to Sangupt.”

The view zoomed out and added a small red flashing dot
representing their current location, almost dead center of the Consensus.

“How long to get there?”

“A little more than nine hours.”

Damon sighed, he really didn’t feel like traveling again,
but he had no choice. “I need to contact Gregor. Once I’m done, let’s hit the
tunnel. While we’re in the clear, see what more you can find on Ken Westron.”

“Acknowledged.”

“And look up Joann Tashus as well,” he added slowly.

“Very well.”

Damon opened a secure link to Gregor and waited only a few
seconds for him to come on. “How’s everything at home?” Damon said.

Gregor grunted quietly before speaking, “Not great. The Council
is not happy about your performance—they nearly disbanded the project
altogether. The main concern is your lack of stealth and secrecy. You’re
supposed to get in, make the kill, and get out. Secondary targets should be
eliminated, of course, but not by bringing down half a city block.”

“Hey,
they
were the ones shooting holes in their own
buildings to hit me!”

“True enough, but I’d say that they made an accurate
tactical assessment of the threat and responded with appropriate force.”

“What?”

“And besides, sauntering through the park on your approach was
not exactly subtle.”

Damon actually laughed, “I’ll give you that one, but you
have to admit, it sure had some bad-ass style!”

“Why’d they give me a punk instead of a soldier?” Gregor
lamented. Then after a slight pause, he continued, “We’ve got your next
assignment, you should leave immediately.”

Damon listened as Gregor explained the situation and the
objectives. The information was also entered into his central core so he could
access it later, but training from Andrea taught him to memorize it.

Once the briefing was complete, Damon instructed the AI to
take them to a system near the target where this yacht could blend in, and also
to arrange some nondescript transportation to his target. His search for Ken
Westron and possible answers about his controllers would have to wait.

 

Alexander Pryke wore one of his best
suits. He always dressed well, but tonight he wanted to make an exceptional
impression on Dr. Baksa. He put his best party organizers on the task of
coordinating his most luxurious ship and the best chefs with the best foods and
wines available. He had told them to spare no expense, and they took him at his
word.

When the doctor entered, Alexander greeted her warmly and
led her to the table set for two. The planners wanted a big, lavish table, but
Alexander opted instead for a smaller, more intimate setting. Too smart to
argue, they followed his instructions.

“Avelina, it’s so good to see you. Thank you for coming.”

Dr. Baksa glanced around the room and said “Hello, Alexander.”
She was dressed casually and her dark blond hair was pulled into a bun on the
back of her head as it usually was when she worked. She stood in the doorway
and folded her arms tightly in front of her. Alexander wished he’d gone more
casual to make her more comfortable.

As he evaluated her appearance, he realized that behind the
austere exterior, she really was attractive. He pulled out her chair, and then
moved over to his side of the table.

“I apologize for the setting,” he said as he took off his
jacket and tie and unbuttoned his collar. “I wanted to see you as soon as
possible after I heard about the disappearance of your department. This was the
only facility available on such short notice.”

“They were my friends,” she said coldly and Alexander winced
mentally.

“Of course, I understand,” he said, giving her his
smoothest, most soothing voice. “Do you have any idea what happened?”

She sighed, visibly drooping, “I don’t. I talked to Reverend
Trueblood already, and he assured me that he would do everything in his power
to find them, so that’s reassuring.”

Alexander knew that he’d have to tread lightly around this
subject. He didn’t want to upset her by questioning the integrity of her
spiritual leader.

“I’m glad that Renard is looking for them,” he said, nodding.
“If anyone can get to the bottom of this, it’s him.” He paused, purposefully
looking pensive. “You know, I have access to some, well . . . shall
we say . . . less scrupulous agents, that might be able to find out
more than Renard’s people, who are more principled.”

Avelina looked at him, eyes narrowed, “What exactly does
that mean, Alexander?”

“Sometimes, when following leads from . . . recalcitrant
sources, we need to employ various methods of . . . persuasion to get
the information.”

“I don’t condone torture,” she stated firmly.

“And neither to I,” he exclaimed, acting offended. “That’s
not at all what I meant. It’s just that sometimes there is no time for proper
judicial procedures.”

Avelina looked hesitant, but receptive. He watched various
emotions pass over her face. While she was thinking, Alexander moved on to the
next subject, “And what about the Demon, Doctor, what can we do about him?”

She looked up quickly, surprised by the question, “Well, I’m
not sure I know what you mean.”

Alexander leaned forward, “He’s being caged, Avelina, and he
needs to be set free.”

She looked confused, but he kept going.

“The Demon doesn’t need the likes of the Council bringing
him to heel, he needs to be allowed the freedom to do what he was meant to do.
What you
created
him to do!”

“I’m—I’m still not sure I understand,” she stammered.

“He’s a beautiful work of art, the perfect tool for keeping
the peace. Why else did you create him but to quell rebellion and dissent? You
did make him for such a purpose, didn’t you?”

“Of course, but under Council control.”

“The Council?” he said loud enough to startle the doctor. “The
Council is the reason we
have
these problems in the first place! They
won’t use him properly. They have no idea of his true potential!”

Silence followed his outburst.

“And what about you, Doctor?” Alexander broke the
uncomfortable quiet. This evening was not going
at all
as he planned. “Are
you being protected? Obviously, there’s something dangerous happening.”

“Well, I’m sure Reverend Trueblood is keeping me safe.” She
waved off his concern dismissively.

“You’re sure about that? I would be happy to watch over you,
we could put you up in our finest accommodations right here on Lorah.”

“Really, Alexander, it’s not necessary.”

He reached out and took one of her hands, and her eyes
widened. “Avelina, my dear,” he said earnestly, looking into her eyes, “you are
far too valuable to me, the Council, and the entire Consensus to take any
chances. Please, please stay here with us.”

She slowly leaned back away from him. “Alexander, you
flatter me. But how could I pursue my work? We’re very close on the miniature
Debar reactor - imagine if we could put that in Demon!” Excitement sparkled in
her eyes, but she gently pulled away from his grasp.

He released her hand, reluctantly, “We could set up a lab
for you here, whatever you need; imagine no budgetary limitations!”

“Honestly, I deal with very few limitations as it is.” She continued
to hold his gaze, and small wrinkles formed between her eyebrows.

“I
must
be assured of your safety. Only by working
together can we see the Demon reach his full potential.” He paused for a moment
before continuing, “Is there anything other than safety that I can offer that
might convince you?”

Avelina stood, surprising him and he scrambled to his feet.

She raised her hand to stop him before he could speak. “Alexander,
your offer is very thoughtful and I appreciate your concern, really I do. But I
will have to think about it and get back to you. I’m sorry. I have to go.”

“But, why?” he wanted to say more, but she turned to leave.

“I’m sorry,” she said as she hurried out the door.

Alexander watched her leave and his bewilderment turned to
anger. He seethed for a moment, unsure what to do next.

“STOP HER!” he said to the security forces he knew were
watching him, and he ran after her.

His HUD popped up in his vision and he loaded a small arms
program into primary slot. He drew his two small pistols, one his ever-present
blaster and the other a conventional slug gun. Messages began coming in to him;
she had a couple people with her in her small ship, and they took the Pryke
guards by surprise, incapacitating them and clearing her way to the ship.
Before they could stop her she was sealed into the ship and pushing off from
the airlock. Alexander ordered up some warships from nearby to intercept.

“Sir,” an unidentified female voice said in his comm system,
“we have two unidentified cruisers tunneling in, ETA thirty seconds.”

“Where did they come from?” he demanded.

“They were sitting quiet at minimum tunnel distance.”

“How’d they get there without us seeing them?”

“Unsure, sir, they must have moved into position weeks ago.”

“How long for our ships to intercept the doctor?”

“A full two minutes, sir, we can’t get there in time.” There
was a hint of fear in the controller’s voice.

“Can they short-hop it?” he asked, even though he already
knew the answer.

“No sir, it would take a full minute to runs the calcs,
it’ll be over by then. Dr. Baksa’s ship is only forty-five seconds from
tunneling out.”

Alexander let loose a string of vehement curses before
saying, “Fine, tell our guys to stand down, do not engage those cruisers.”
After a moment’s thought he added, “Whose are they anyway?”

“Sir, they’re not squawking at all,” her voice had a hint of
curiosity.

Alexander’s eyes narrowed to slits as his mind churned over
the possibilities before asking, “Do we have
anything
that gives us a
hint of who they are?” He was sure they were Renard’s, but he didn’t feel the
need to share his thoughts.

She hesitated before answering, “Sir, WERA scans show
nothing but standard Mk II Cruisers, they could belong to anyone.”

“See what you can do to track them, I’d really like to know
who’s picketing us . . . here . . . in our home.” He was
fairly certain, but he realized it could almost anyone, even one of the smaller
dynasties.

He needed more information. “Let me know everything you can
find out, no matter how trivial; follow up on it
yourself
and report to
me personally, please.”

“Yes, sir,” and the fear in her voice was palpable, making
Alexander smile.

After a few minutes of brooding, Alexander decided he had to
take a different approach to the Demon problem.
I need to be more direct,
he
thought,
and I need to stick to the strength of the Pryke Family.

‘Subterfuge and misdirection
,’ popped into his mind,
it was his father’s favorite saying. “The Pryke Family Jewels!” he finished out
loud.

Opening up his command channel, he said, “Intelligence
Chief, get to my office, now!” He rarely bothered to learn the names of his
staff since they changed fairly regularly. He always told himself he’d learn
their names once they’ve proven their worth. So far, he knew very few names.

 

**** ****

 

Steve Bahena found himself thinking
about Joann. He often wondered how she was doing after her sudden reappearance
and subsequent quick departure. Part of him wished there had been some
excitement in the weeks following her visit. But nothing had actually changed
for their group.

“I think we might have a problem,” Ted Khasan said as his
face popped up on Steve Bahena’s supposedly secure screen.
How does he do
that,
Steve wondered for the millionth time.

“Hello, Ted,” Steve said calmly, “what have you got?”

“No really, it’s something this time, it has to do with
Joann, I’ve got Lurkers on her name, codes, accounts, everything, and she’s
been pinged—big time!”

“Tell me more.” Steve realized it could be something
important.

“Someone’s looking at all of her files, and they’re being
very quiet about it. This is no standard inquiry, it’s too well hidden.”

Steve never questioned Ted’s intel on communications around
their group, but it had been a long time since anyone showed any interest in them.
This could be worrisome depending on the direction of the research.

“What were they looking for, specifically?” he asked Ted.

“They were looking for her home, where she spent her time in
her younger years. Essentially,” he added dramatically, “they’re looking for
us.”

Steve didn’t really want to believe what he was hearing, but
it made sense if what Joann told them was true. And he had no reason to believe
that it wasn’t. Not sure he wanted to know the answer, he asked anyway, “Who’s
doing the looking?”

“That’s not so easy to find. I traced back as far as I could
and got nothing obvious. However, once I analyzed it with certain probability
filters and fuzzy-seeded algorithms I got something.”

“What have you got, Ted?” Steve knew that he had to let Ted
tell the whole story. Try as they might over the years, they were never able to
remove the drama from Ted.

“It’s big, Steve! I know you guys always think I’m overly
dramatic, but this time I’m telling you, it is big.”

“Who, Ted?” Steve was getting annoyed but also a little
worried.

“It tracked back to someone in the Pryke dynasty.”

Steve’s blood ran cold. The ruthless reputation of the Pryke
family was well earned and well documented.

Ted continued, “I know that could be any number out of
thousands, even tens of thousands, but I shook it out and found that a deep
ping like we saw, combined with a Pryke source, hidden to the extent that it
was, indicates a ninety-four percent chance of Council involvement.”

“
Kyndra weeps!
” was all Steve could say. Now his
chills were coupled with sweat on his forehead. He might question Ted’s drama,
but he never questioned his numbers, and it all fit within Joann’s story. “Do
you have new kits made up for everyone, including the kids?”

“Not yet.”

“Get on it, we need them right now! I’ll call Alyssa.”

“We’ll have the kits in three hours.” Ted disappeared from
his screen as he cut the connection.
A connection,
Steve mused,
that
my screen says never existed.
He placed a secure call to Alyssa.

Once she connected, Steve simply said “I heard from Ted. We’ve
got trouble and we need to go to ground.”

“You must be kidding,” she said raising her eyebrows.

“I’m not. Joann has brought attention with her and now we
are the target.”

“Really. Who’s looking?” she still sounded skeptical.

“Ready? The Prykes”

“Oh stop it.”

“I’m not joking, Alyssa, I wish I was.”

“Ted’s not being overly dramatic now is he?”

“Well, of course he is, but I believe this is real trouble.
I’ve told him to put together new kits for everyone.” He paused while she
thought about it, and then added, “It’s better to play it safe, don’t you think?
If nothing comes up we can return in a couple of weeks.”

“You’re right, of course. I’ll tell the others. Are you
covering our tracks?”

“I’m on it as soon as we’re done here.”

“We’re done, and thanks.”

Alyssa would convince everyone else of the severity of the
situation so Steve could concentrate on his part in the plan. They had put
together their disappearing act so long ago that he couldn’t remember when it
was exactly, but they had only used it twice and it was almost fifteen years
since the last time. Steve methodically ran through the software to ensure it
was all up to date, and then he executed the package. Slowly over the next few
days, recent history of the group would disappear from public record. He had
developed the programs himself using techniques he learned from some true
experts, who evaluated and approved of his methods. Soon there would be no
recent record of their activities, although a military-grade search would
reveal the deletions, leaving an obvious trail of hacking.