Vyyda Book 1: The Haver Problem (5 page)

             
“Nonsense.”

             
Dorsey rubbed his neck, irritated.  “It’s in English?”

             
“Yes.”

             
He was cornered.

             
“Tomas, I won’t read it.  I don’t believe in it.”

             
"I need your help," the older man said with a voice uncharacteristically devoid of whimsy.  Dorsey knew the tone. 

             
“You’re…” Dorsey began, irritated.  He softened slightly before continuing.  “…insisting so…much.  I can’t see how I’ll be able to…”

             
"Are you trying to say you'll be happy to read the manuscript?" Witt asked. 

             
"All except the happy part."

             
Dorsey knew he’d read it.  What point was there in putting up a fight when Tomas Witt would never let it go?

             
“Good.  You can start right now.”

             
“I have the Vardon hearing today, Tomas.”

             
“Oh, are they still going ahead with that?” Witt asked, clearly irritated.

             
“He broke a multitude of rules.  Some people think it’s serious.”

             
“What time does it begin?”

             
“Sixteen hundred.”

             
“Right.  Then you’ve got two hours to get going on the reading.”  Witt didn’t get an immediate reply.  “Objections?”

3.

Caroline Dahl

5 March
2310.  HSPB-Luna

Caroline Dahl stood quietly in the main room of her living quarters, staring at the body of her pet Silver Crested Cockatoo, a narrow tresanium spike driven through its head.

It had been the only Cockatoo on the moon.

As an agent of the Home Sector Protection Bureau, Caroline received special permission to have the bird.  The rule against any non-human organic material leaving Earth was beginning to loosen slightly under certain circumstances.

Yet even
a more liberal approach to personal privileges led to an absurd approval process that Caroline was forced to undergo.  Months passed as she cleared three separate stages of permission for the bird, culminating with a formal interview conducted by HSPB-Luna Director Cyril Redd (who'd already known her several years):

Q:  Why do you want a Silver Crested Cockatoo?

A:  I've seen pictures.  It's a beautiful bird.

Q:  Yes, but why do you want a bird or any animal at all?

A:  It would be a unique opportunity to experience a piece of Earth.

Q:  Because you've never been there?

A:  I suppose.

Unlike Dorsey Jefferson (and most U-Spacers), Caroline Dahl didn't have the luxury of hiding behind secrets and half-truths.  As a citizen of C-Space and an HSPB agent, anything so subversive would have been in violation of Earth’s expectations.  One’s life had to always be capable of standing up to extreme scrutiny.

Raised on
Mars, the bird had been Caroline's very first experience with a pet.  Unlike many of the Earthers stationed at the Lunar installation of the HSPB, Caroline had never seen a living animal for herself. 

Notably, she was the only agent
who made it past the early stages of the application process.  (Another thirty had been dropped almost immediately, all non-Earthers.)  Her fine record in the Bureau and accomplishment in reaching G7 (grade seven) meant that she might be the best test case for allowing greater benefits to trickle down to the non-Earth born agents of the HSPB.  No non-Earther had ever gotten to G6, never mind G7. 

Caroline Dahl was very special.

And now, a mere two months after receiving the bird (which she'd named Roland), Caroline stood over its lifeless body, her face contorted in an attempt to smother grief.  The rest of her well-furnished rooms – complete with fronial-lined, crystal lighting fixtures, Double-Spot deep-back chairs, sofas and Lunar-crafted wall hangings meant nothing in comparison to Roland.  She may have done well for a non-Earther, but somebody was determined to not let her forget who she really was beneath it all.

Caroline caught sight of herself in a mirror on the wall across the room from Roland’s perch.  She didn’t realize she’d been crying.  The sight of an agent, decked out in uniform of deep green top and dark blue pants, tears cutting a path down her cheek, was problematic.  Bureau personnel were supposed to be hard enough to resist emotion – regardless of the circumstances.

Caroline’s success in the Bureau hadn't come easily.  She was initially viewed as too diminutive for real potential as an agent.  She had clear, pleasingly proportioned features and soft green eyes, but it was her size that struck most as completely uncharacteristic of a member of the HSPB.  (Agents did, from time to time, have to use physical force.)  And, even if one could get beyond her petite frame, there was Caroline's hair to consider – or, lack of hair, to be more specific.  She was nearly bald, with a very short fringe of absolutely white hair covering her scalp.

Even with an exempl
ary HSPB record, skepticism remained when it came to the young woman from Mars.  Many of the Earth-born agents she served alongside found her "objectionable".  Was it because she wasn't one of them, or that she was very effective in discharging her duties?  Caroline had yet to figure that out.

There was a long-standing, derogatory term referring to humans living in U-Space: 
spetcher
.  The word had originated generations before Caroline was born.  For years, the word was used frequently by a majority of citizens in C-Space (whether they were of Earth or not).

The term lost its appeal for non-Earthers, however, as the makeup of HSPB personnel changed.  There simply weren't enough natives of the home planet interested in becoming a part of the Bureau to sustain a viable force.  The powers-that-be had no choice:  citizens from the full expanse of C-Space would be considered for entry into the HSPB Academy.  The "mixing" caused resentment and led to a new way of referring to the C-Space non-Earthers:  half-spetcher.

Almost immediately, no self-respecting non-Earther anywhere in C-Space would use any derivation of the word spetcher.  Even those inclined to be distrustful of U-Space and contemptuous of its populace (as they had been taught to do) would not use the word.

Caroline Dahl was a half-spetcher and, in the minds of some who were aware of her ownership of an Earth animal, therein
laid the problem.

V              V              V              V

Caroline recognized the tresanium spike piercing Roland's head as an implement from the kitchen.  It was most commonly used in an offering that came up once or twice a week for which she had developed an affinity:  kabobs; seasoned meat and vegetables that were unlike anything Caroline had been privileged to experience on Mars.  She reasoned it was part of her reward for working so hard, to enjoy such spoils.  It wouldn’t take much more than casual observation of her at mealtime to catch on to her attachment to the kabobs.

She was being taught a lesson of sorts:  i
n the eyes of at least one person at HSPB-Luna, the death of Caroline’s bird was an imperative.  After all, as the saying went, one had to draw the line somewhere.  If half-spetchers were allowed to keep pets, they might actually begin to believe they belonged.

As Caroline pondered what to do with
Roland’s body, Zachary Stovall arrived.  Although he was only a G4, Stovall had become Caroline's most trusted friend since his attachment to HSPB-Luna three years earlier.  They could relate to one another.  Stovall was also a non-Earther who strove to get the most out of the opportunities to be found in the Bureau.  Tall and well-built, Stovall had wide-set eyes and a nose that was bent and pushed in from scores of fights waged in his younger years.  Many of the Earth-born agents whispered their insults about Zachary Stovall for fear that the mountain of a young man would do them damage if he heard their barbs; such an attack would surely see him drummed out of the HSPB, but no Earther wanted to sacrifice themselves just to rid the Bureau of another half-spetcher.

Stovall and Caroline were scheduled for duty in the "comms wedge": communications control center for the installation.  And, even though their shift was set to begin in mere minutes, Caroline couldn’t simply leave the dead bird where it lay.  Stovall's reaction to Roland's fate was less controlled than Caroline's.

"Bastards," he said repeatedly with a venomous tone until Caroline asked him to stop.

"I trust you, Agent Stovall.  I tru
st you not to tell anyone – and I mean
anyone
– about this."

"But..."

"Can I count on you?  Please?"

Stovall nodded.  They called one another Agent Stovall and Agent Dahl.  Friends though they may have been, protocol was im
portant for agents to follow – particularly for non-Earthers trying to make good.

"What are you going to do?" Stovall asked.

"Only thing I can.  Get rid of it."

"Of
him
?"

"Roland stopped being a him when that spike punctured his head.  Besides, it's ea
sier for me to think of 'it' while I dispose of the body."

Stovall said he'd wait for Caroline to do the deed.  It would make both of them a few minutes late, but she
was insistent about dealing with Roland's remains right away.  There had been very specific rules given to her with the bird:  if it was to die or if she decided she didn't want it any longer, Roland had to be turned over to specialists who would eradicate it in the proscribed manner for organics.  She knowingly broke a rule for the first time in her HSPB career by incinerating a dead Earth animal in her lav and sending the charred pieces down the wide drain of her shower.

Then it was time to go to work.

V
              V              V              V

"You have to spell decency with a question mark around here," Stovall said as the pair left Caroline's rooms for the shift that had officially started on the opposite side of the installation.  "If you
had
to guess..."

Caroline wouldn't have the conversation.  She quickened her pace
to pull away from Stovall – no small feat considering that he was over two meters in height; a long stride, indeed.

He caught up.

"I think it was Doone," he said just before they passed a trio of agents headed in the opposite direction.

"Careful, Agent Stovall.  Ears everywhere."

"Ignoring it isn't going to help.  Word will still get out."

Caroline stopped, taking Stovall's arm.

"And how will that happen?  If only you and I know, and we've agreed not to discuss it...how will word get out?"

"The person who did it, Agent Dahl."

That was a good point.  The idea behind such a cruel act was to not only strike a blow against half-spetchers, but to be able to brag to compatriots that you had done it.

By the time they reached the comms wedge, Caroline and Stovall were a full fifteen minutes late for their shift.  As she would be the lead agent for the next eight hours, her predecessor at the helm of operations had remained behind until officially relieved.

"Couldn't be avoided," she said in a low voice to the other G7, who was more than ready to go off-duty.

Caroline needed to focus on the work.  It was the only thing that could keep her from getting twisted into knots over R
oland.  Besides, overseeing coding and recoding, transmitting and logging of messages required complete attention.  The slightest mistake could be costly.  She'd be approving the compilation of "dummy" comms sent out for the benefit of any listeners just on the opposite side of the boundary.  U-Space fringe elements were always interested in what could be gained from C-Space comms.  Most important were the captures coming in from the HSPB's extraordinary
über-empfänger
.  Located on Mars, the über-empfänger caught messages cascading in from the 'wilderness' of U-Space.  It was the only safe way to measure what was happening beyond the boundary.

She would check the captures from Mars first.  On the path that led to the comms wedge connection console, delivering every last bit of information from the
über-empfänger, Caroline was cut off by an irritating presence, and the only G6 on duty:  Agent Leopold Doone.  Officially, Caroline was Doone's direct superior and he was meant to function as her primary adjutant.  Unofficially, he was more of an obstacle than an aide and the source of endless consternation.