CHAPTER TEN
Isaac stood in the shadow of Defender-Prime’s wing beside Susan and Pérez, waiting for…some reason he was not yet clear on. He’d left Cephalie and the LENS back at the CFPD on Susan’s recommendation.
“Who’s on his way again?” he asked quietly.
“Special Agent James Noxon,” Susan replied. “He’s bringing us additional security personnel aboard Pathfinder-Prime.”
“He’s an agent like you and Pérez?”
“Umm, yes and no.”
“That’s not very helpful, Susan.”
“Sorry. It’s a little difficult to explain if you haven’t worked in the DTI. He’s more important than his rank would lead you to believe.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because he’s part of Director Shigeki’s ‘inner circle.’”
“Then he works in Foreign Affairs?”
“What?” She shook her head. “No, sorry. Not Jonas Shigeki. His father, Csaba Shigeki, the director-general.”
“Ah. Then he reports directly to the man in charge of the whole DTI.”
“That’s right.”
“Why didn’t you say so?”
“Because, technically, he doesn’t.”
Isaac lowered his head and rubbed his temples.
“You see, technically, he’s just another agent.”
“Which is why I’m confused about the three of us standing here”—he gestured to Susan and Pérez—“waiting for his chronoport to arrive.”
“Look at it this way. He’s been a part of the Shigeki family’s security detail since before there was a DTI. The Shigekis come from a long line of Peacekeepers, and Noxon has served them since…well, since the beginning, I think.”
“The beginning of…?”
“The Admin.”
“That would make him quite old,” Isaac noted.
“Very old.” She nodded to Pérez. “Maybe even as old as Miguel.”
“Older, actually,” Pérez commented.
“And he’s still an agent after all this time?” Isaac asked.
“That’s the role he wants,” Susan explained. “I don’t think anyone is going to tell him otherwise. Besides, us STANDs tend to find our niche and stick to it.”
Pérez nodded in agreement.
“I see.”
“There are very few people in the DTI,” Susan continued, “who have the director-general’s ear and trust. Who he discusses the really high-level stuff with. Noxon is one of them. He might as well be an under-director, given the level of sway he has in our organization.”
“Which makes him part of the inner circle you mentioned.”
“That’s right.”
“Hmm.”
The top of the hangar split open, and Isaac gazed upward. The approaching silhouette of the chronoport was a dark, tailed arrow against the clear, blue sky. Susan stiffened her posture, and even Pérez tensed up as he tugged his uniform straight.
“Are you nervous?” Isaac asked her.
“A little,” Susan confided.
“Should I be?”
“Probably not. I’ve worked with Noxon a few times in the past. Never had any issues with him, nor him with me that I’m aware of, but his presence still gives me the jitters.”
“Huh.”
“At least it’s not Director Kloss we’re dealing with.”
“Too true,” Pérez agreed.
Susan had once faced down an army of weaponized construction drones with nothing but her pistol and whatever she could scrounge off their crashed aircraft. She’d engaged them during a torrential downpour of liquid methane that was slowly freezing her to death, fending them off until help finally arrived.
That hadn’t fazed her. She’d actually been modest about her heroics afterward, all while Isaac had slumped in the cockpit, unconscious from his injuries. He hadn’t witnessed the battle in person, obviously, but Cephalie had shown him the highlight clips later, and so he knew for certain Susan had sprung into action without the slightest hesitation.
She’s charged into impossible odds without question, he considered. But this James Noxon makes her nervous.
The huge craft began its descent, and Isaac turned at the sound of footfalls coming down Defender-Prime’s ramp. The new Peacekeeper joined them at Isaac’s side. He was a tall man with a long ponytail who wore his uniform as if it were a part of him. Not a crease in sight.
“Good.” The newcomer removed his peaked cap and brushed off the top. “He’s not here yet.”
Pérez pointed up, and the newcomer’s eyes followed upward.
“All that matters is we’re here first.” He fitted his cap back on, then extended a hand to Isaac. “Captain Jason Elifritz. A pleasure to finally meet you, Detective. I would have introduced myself sooner, but it seemed better to stay out of your way while you worked the case.”
“I appreciate that, Captain,” Isaac replied, returning the man’s firm handshake. “I take it Defender-Prime is your ship.”
“That’s right.” He nodded to Susan. “Agent Cantrell.”
“Long time no see, Captain.”
“Too long. Good to see you’re doing well for yourself.”
“You two know each other?” Isaac asked.
“Since just after Cantrell became a STAND,” Elifritz said. “She and Pérez served under my command for a while.” He flashed a disarming smile. “We blew up a lot of terrorists together.”
“Is that so?” Isaac replied neutrally.
The line of Peacekeepers-plus-Isaac settled into an uneasy silence as the chronoport descended into the hangar. Thruster exhaust blew past them, hot against Isaac’s face even at this distance. His skin beaded with sudden perspiration, but the torrent of dry air absorbed the moisture almost instantly.
A docking cradle morphed out of the floor, and Pathfinder-Prime came to rest in it. Its fusion thrusters switched off and their vectored nozzles irised closed. A ramp opened and extruded outward from the craft’s belly, and over a dozen Peacekeepers marched out. Isaac guessed they were all synthoids, since most of them possessed the typical gray skin and yellow eyes of Admin STANDs, though a few of them exhibited more realistic exteriors.
One of the gray-skinned synthoids walked toward them, and as one the Peacekeepers beside Isaac tensed up, standing rigidly at attention. Isaac couldn’t help but feel out of place. He wore the only SysPol uniform in a sea of the lighter blue Peacekeepers. He wondered if Susan ever felt awkward like this.
Probably not, he thought. That uniform might as well be a part of her, which seems to be a rather common trait among the Peacekeepers, now that I think about it.
The synthoid walked over and stopped in front of Isaac.
“Detective Cho, I presume,” he said in a deep, resonant voice.
“That’s right.”
“Agent James Noxon.” He extended a hand, which Isaac shook. “I understand we have you to thank for sorting out our little problem.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. It was a team effort.”
“Of course.” He faced Elifritz. “Captain, I’ll be taking command of the STANDs assigned to Defender-Prime.”
“Yes, Agent. I’ve seen the orders. You’ll have my full support.”
“Good to hear. Agent Pérez?”
“Sir.”
“Before I make any changes to your team, I’ll need to be briefed on the current status of our security coverage.”
“Yes, sir.” Pérez gestured to the docked transport under Defender-Prime’s wing. “We’re using the Cutlass as our command center. We can review our coverage plan for you there.”
“Very good.” He turned to Susan, then to Isaac. “Agent Cantrell, Detective Cho, I’d also like to review the charges and evidence against our…troublesome citizen.”
Isaac opened his mouth to speak, but Susan beat him to it.
“Yes, sir!” she snapped with rigid formality.
“Excellent.” Noxon nodded to the Cutlass. “Then let’s get to it.”
“Right this way, sir,” Pérez said.
* * *
The meeting in the Cutlass started with Pérez providing a detailed overview of the players’ protective coverage, the surveillance setup in the hotel floor and hangar, inspection processes and schedules for their rooms, and entry admittance procedures for hotel staff and other guests to the Admin floor.
Noxon stayed quiet through most of it, arms folded as Pérez walked him through the current situation. When Pérez finished, Noxon unfolded his arms.
“Most of that looks good,” he began. “With the additional agents I brought and now only two players instead of three requiring active protection, I want coverage doubled whenever the players are on the move or outside our floor, understood?”
“Yes, sir, but do you still think that’s necessary?” Pérez asked. “With the death threat against Sako resolved, there doesn’t seem to be a need for heightened security. Also, there is some local…sensitivity to our presence here.”
“I’ve read your reports on the protests,” Noxon said neutrally.
“Then you should understand my concerns about an increase in how visible our presence here is.”
“Maybe so, but the additional resources are here, so we’ll put them to use. I don’t want any other embarrassments on the DTI’s watch, and neither do the directors.”
“Understood, sir. In that case, I’ll put together a revised coverage schedule.”
“Furthermore, I want you to shift command and control over to Pathfinder-Prime. We’ll coordinate all our efforts from its bridge moving forward. Any objections?”
“No, sir,” Pérez said.
“Captain?”
“None here,” Elifritz replied. He’d let Pérez do most of the talking so far, pitching in only to clarify or expound upon a few points during the briefing.
“Good.” Noxon turned to Susan and Isaac, and his face soured. “Now, about our wayward citizen. Where is he now?”
“Lacan is confined to a cell in the Crimson Flower First Precinct Building,” Isaac said. “He’s been charged with unlawful coercion, a category of crimes which can include death threats like the one sent to Miss Sako. Do you want to see the prisoner?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Noxon said. “You’re confident in the evidence against him?”
“We are, for several reasons, but the big one is we found deleted remnants of prankware on one of Lacan’s wearables.”
“This is the software you believe he used to corrupt the printer?”
“That’s correct.”
“How confident are you it’s a match?”
“Very. Since arresting Lacan, our forensic specialist has gone over the evidence more thoroughly and was able to match the program on his wearable with garbage code fragments in the printer. In short, all the evidence matches up. A copy of the prankware found in his possession caused the printer to produce the severed head.”
“You said a copy of that program,” Noxon noted. “I take it there’s no way to be certain his copy was what caused it.”
“Correct, unfortunately,” Isaac admitted. “The prankware is generic in that respect, with no identifiers for a particular copy, but that’s where the other evidence comes into play.”
“He had access to the printer just before it produced the threat,” Susan pointed out, “and he certainly had a motive.”
“True enough,” Noxon agreed, “but how did he get his hands on it in the first place?”
“It’s possible one of the SysGov players or a staff member for ActionStream provided him with it,” Isaac said. “Possession and distribution of prankware are fairly minor crimes, so LSP—the Lunar State Police—will follow up. SysPol will provide additional support if requested, but I consider that unlikely. The program’s distribution is an issue for local law enforcement.”
“What does the accused have to say for himself?” Noxon asked.
“I believe LSP is conducting an interrogation now,” Isaac said. “Last I checked, he hadn’t confessed.”
Noxon harrumphed. “I suppose that’s to be expected.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because he threatened to kill Miss Sako.”
“Yes,” Isaac said, “but why do you believe he wouldn’t confess?”
Noxon’s brow creased in confusion.
“Allow me to explain, sir,” Susan stepped in. “Death threats are handled a bit differently in the Admin.”
“Yes, I remember you mentioning the heat of the moment defense.”
“Right. But that won’t cover a severed head. A threat like that, requiring preparation to deliver, is classified as a premeditated message.”
“And a premeditated death threat indicates intent,” Noxon added, “in a legally relevant sense. With severe consequences.”
“Oh,” Isaac said. “I see.”
“Threatening to kill someone in a premeditated fashion,” Susan explained, “isn’t too far away from actually committing murder, in terms of the punishments in the Admin.”
“Okay, yes, I see your concern now,” Isaac said.
“On top of that,” Noxon added, “SysGov, unlike the Admin, has a death penalty.”
“I’m not sure I see why that’s relevant.”
“Because I need to ask…is Lacan to be executed?”
“What?” Isaac blurted. “No! I mean, yes, we do have the death penalty! But no, he’s not going to be executed for threatening someone!”
“Good.” Noxon nodded, visibly relieved. “That’s one less worry, then.”
Isaac sighed and shook his head.
“Then, if not execution, what’s to be his punishment?”
“I don’t know. That’ll be up to the judge.”
“Don’t you have a say in this?”
“Sure, I do. I can pass a recommendation on to the prosecutor. In fact, I was planning to do that already.”
“And what will you recommend?” Noxon pressed.
“I was going to suggest leniency,” Isaac said. “First, because Lacan strikes me as a lovesick fool. Second, because no one was hurt, and nothing was damaged. Even the printer’s fine. And third, I don’t see the point in throwing our book at him. He’s an Admin citizen who threatened another Admin citizen. He just happened to do it in our jurisdiction.”
Isaac tried to read Noxon’s face, but it might as well have been chiseled from stone.
“Why?” Isaac asked finally. “Do you want us to throw the book at him?”
“Depends how heavy the book is,” Noxon said matter-of-factly.
Isaac couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.
* * *
“That was unexpected,” Isaac exclaimed as they left the Petal Four hangar.
“Actually, I think it went quite well.” Susan patted him on the shoulder. “Congratulations. You just survived your first encounter with the inner circle.” She smiled slyly. “Mister DTI Investigator.”
“I don’t plan to make a habit of this. Honestly, Noxon didn’t seem so bad to me. The way everyone was acting made me expect…I don’t know. Someone who brought a little more fire and brimstone to the conversation.”
“It’s not so much how he acts as the power he represents. And the people you don’t want to cross.”
“Plenty of those in the DTI?”
“Oh, you wouldn’t believe!”
“I think every large organization has members like that. People in positions of authority you simply do not mess with.”
“Yep. That’s the inner circle for you.”
“SysPol has those too.” He wagged his finger. “Like Mitch.”
“Mitch who?”
“Just Mitch. No last name. He’s the Themis superintendent back at Saturn, which makes him Raviv’s direct superior. Something of an eccentric AC, as I understand it. I’ve never spoken to him myself, but I know he drives Raviv up the wall sometimes.”
“Eccentric how?”
“He’s very opinionated. And very vocal about his opinions.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad. What sort of opinions?”
“Everything. And if you get on his bad side, your reward is listening to him pontificate at you for hours. Once, Raviv was on the receiving end of an epic rant about how disgusting biological sex is and how everyone should go post-physical and be done with it.”
“Yikes!” Susan cringed. “Yeah, that sounds eccentric.”
“Which is why sometimes it’s best to simply keep your head down and put in an honest day’s work for an honest day’s pay.”
“I hear that,” Susan agreed. “Where to next?”
“The hotel lobby to check in. The finals start tomorrow, and we’ll be back on our original schedule. I don’t know about you, but I could use a good night’s sleep.” He rubbed his palm against an eye. “I figure we can take care of any loose ends with the state troopers after the tournament winds down for the day. Lacan’s not going anywhere.”
“Sounds good to me.” She smiled. “It should be quite the show tomorrow.”
“Should be.”
“You don’t sound excited.”
“Well…” He shrugged.
“Aren’t you looking forward to the tournament?”
“Yeah, sure.” He shrugged again. “Guess so.”
“Who do you think will win?”
“Oh, I don’t know.”
“Come on, give me a n—”
“Wong Fei.”
“Really?” Susan raised an eyebrow. “You sound rather confident there. You sure he’ll be the winner?”
“Pretty darn sure. Remember, I’ve actually seen him play. He’s going to chew up the competition and spit them out.” Isaac let out a sad sigh. “It’s a shame, really.”
“What is?”
“Sako and…who’s the other Admin player?”
“Shingo Masuda.”
“Right. The two of them came all this way to another universe.” He shook his head. “Only to have their butts kicked tomorrow.”
“You really think so?” Susan asked with a lopsided smile.
“Yeah.” He shook his head. “It really is sad how badly your team is going to lose tomorrow.”
“Well”—Susan put her hands on her hips—“I think Elly’s going to win it all. Care to make a wager?”
“I don’t bet.”
“Aww.” She frowned at him. “You’re no fun.”
“People have said worse things about me.”