Confluence

CHAPTER SIX: DOMINIQUE RADKO

On the shuttle, Radko received another package of data from Vega.

Radko was tapping out a careful set of instructions for Bhaksir:

Just because he wears the uniform, don’t expect Ean to know everything. He hasn’t had the training. Explain things. He doesn’t think like a soldier; he thinks like a line. Lines don’t think the way we do.

She paused over the SEND button, and deleted it instead. The team would cope perfectly well without her. Ean would, too. Then took a moment to compose herself before she opened Vega’s message.

OneLane’s shop is in the FourDogs district of Bane, the largest city on Satan’s Gate.

Satan’s Gate was the main Redmond world. Radko had spent time in Bane, even knew of the FourDogs district although she’d never been there. It was a well-to-do area full of high-class boutiques and antiques shops. She pulled up images to view the address Vega had supplied.

The shop had a narrow entry, with artfully displayed artifacts in the window. The window was crisscrossed with a grating that glowed a soft blue around the edges. A security field. Whatever OneLane had in there, she liked it well protected. Radko saw four cameras at the front of the shop, and although she couldn’t see the back, they would be there, somewhere.

A discreet plaque on the wall advertised LoneField Security—one of the best in the business.

Radko turned back to Vega’s comms.

You have a team of three. They’ll join you on the freighter to Shaolin.

Theodora van Heel works in surveillance. She has worked in intelligence for twenty years, the last six behind a desk. She is a class hacker and can break into most systems. A reliable person when you need to break into a system or to cover your tracks, but every year she is called in for remedial target practice. That, and her level of fitness, are the main reasons she is behind a desk rather than in the field.

Bless Vega for telling her the important things she needed to know about the people she was working with.

She is the only one of your team who has worked off world before.

Yves Han is military police. He works in the main barracks at Baoshan.

Han was a high-caste Lancastrian family name. Combined with a French first name like Yves, his family would move in the same circle as hers. In which case, Radko knew him. Renaud Han’s son.

She brought up the image. The resemblance to Renaud was strong. Yves Han was three years older than Radko. She’d last seen him when she was nine, and he’d been twelve. Her family had been visiting the Hans and she’d found Yves Han standing over his tutor—seventy years old if he was a day—forcing the old man’s hand onto the red-hot heat supply of the furnace.

The tutor screamed as Yves forced his hand down.

“Stop that now,” Radko commanded.

Yves had laughed at her. “Go away, little girl. Keep out of things that don’t concern you.” He’d pushed the tutor’s arm down again.

So she’d beaten him up.

She was the one who’d gotten into trouble. Yves had needed regen, and the tutor claimed he’d burned his own hand. She hadn’t seen Yves since. He’d tested high on the Havortian tests and taken up the offer of an apprenticeship from one of the big cartel houses.

Yet she’d always liked Yves’s parents. Even though Renaud and Amina Han were part of the Emperor’s inner circle, they always had time for the Emperor’s aunt, and for the almost-forgotten young cousin.

Radko frowned at the image. The boy she’d known had bordered on sadistic or worse. She hoped fleet training had knocked some of his nastiness out of him. He definitely wasn’t someone she’d ever introduce Ean to, linesman or not.

I have worked with Han before, back when I spent two years as a captain on Baoshan. I found him reliable and easy to work with. A good man to have at your back.

He didn’t sound like the Yves Han she remembered.

Radko turned to the last name.

Arun Chaudry is six months out of training. His psychiatrist says he has a death wish. Joined the fleet to get himself killed.

The preliminary psych tests should have picked that up.

They put him in Stores—on base—where he’ll never see combat. His group leader is surprisingly protective of him, says he’s lost and needs to find something he can do.

Radko flipped the name to see who the group leader was and wasn’t surprised to find it was Lee Toll.

Van Heel was the only person with any experience in this kind of work. As for the other two—a man who might or might not like power over others and a man with a death wish. Did Vega believe they were dispensable? Or was there something more?

The something more came on the next line.

Yves Han trained ten years at House of Sandhurst. Theodora van Heel, seven years, House of Xun. Arun Chaudry, six years, House of Isador. Van Heel and Chaudry failed certification.

According to Ean, six years was the absolute minimum for a line apprenticeship. The apprentices started in their teens—although a cartel master would take them earlier if they showed real promise—and couldn’t be tested until they were seventeen. The ones the cartel masters thought would fail were tested early. Van Heel and Chaudry probably hadn’t shown much ability.

Vega hadn’t said how old they were, but Radko could guess from their images that van Heel had trained a generation earlier than Chaudry.

I need to know what lines they are and if they are suitable for line training.

Han certified as an exceptionally strong seven but received head injuries in an accident not long after certification. The doctors say there is nothing physically wrong with him, but after the trauma, he lost any line ability. I want you to assess whether Lambert may be able to fix his line problem.

The only ships getting jumps to and from Lancia nowadays were unaffiliated merchants. Mostly small, second-class freighters, and right now they were making a fortune. The ship was crowded. Every ship leaving Lancia was.

Radko didn’t have a cabin. There was a netted-off area in the bar to stow her kit, for she and her team would leave the ship in four hours.

Them and a hundred others.

She recognized Yves Han immediately. He stood like a member of one of the Great Families, as if he expected people to move around him, rather than him to move around them. Sometimes, Radko knew, she did that herself.

She pushed forward to stand beside him. “Han.”

If he remembered the last time they’d met, it didn’t show. “Team leader.” Or maybe he’d had time to decide to ignore the memory. Vega must have sent their names through to the whole team—without the other identifying information Radko had received—or otherwise he wouldn’t have recognized Radko. That was unusual for by-the-book Vega. Radko had a code she could use to identify herself to the other three. That was what she would normally use on an operation like this.

The title felt strange, and not something she planned on getting used to. She liked the job she had.

“This is crazy crowded,” Han said. “I hope we arrive safely.”

She tapped in the identifying code and touched her comms to Han’s. Identity established. “Yes,” she said, and looked around. “Somewhere in this crowd, we’ve two other people.”

Her comms chimed. Van Heel.

“Never mind,” van Heel said, when she answered. “I can see you. I’m nearby.” She pushed through the crowd. “This overcrowding. It’s dangerous.”

It would get worse before it got better. Unless Ean could convince the New Alliance to jump cold.

As Radko touched her comms to van Heel’s to establish identity, the bell chimed to signify the ship was about to enter the void. She paused and looked around to be sure her charge was safe this time. Weird things happened around jumps.

But, of course, Ean wasn’t there.

She waited until they jumped, then went back to her comms. No one else had noticed; no one else cared. She’d forgotten how normal jumps were on other ships.

The public address blared over the top of her attempt to contact Chaudry. “All passengers leaving at Shaolin please assemble at the shuttle bays. Be sure to collect all luggage prior to disembarking.”

“That’s us,” Radko said, and thumbed the comms open to the other member of her team. “Chaudry. This is team leader Radko. We’ll meet you at the shuttle bays.”

“That’s early,” Han muttered. “Can’t wait to get rid of us, obviously.”

Personally, Radko couldn’t wait to get off the ship.

They found Chaudry standing, arms crossed, in the middle of the shuttle queue. He wasn’t much taller than anyone else, but he was wider. His arms were bare, and the muscles bulged. Despite the crowd, people moved a long way around him.

“He’s enough to scare anyone’s grandmother,” Han said.

Radko frowned at him.

“Arun Chaudry,” Han said.

Chaudry narrowed his eyes. “Who’s asking?”

“I wasn’t asking, I was identifying.” Han gave a half bow. “Your teammate, Yves Han, and with me I have Theodora van Heel and Team Leader Radko.”

“I need a code,” Chaudry said.

Radko tapped in the code and touched her comms to his.

Han had names and images to identify the team. So had van Heel. Chaudry hadn’t. “I’m surprised you know us all,” Radko said to Han. “I only got them on my comms as I was coming out here.”

Van Heel was a hacker. If she was as good as Vega said, then she could find out who she was working with. But Han? He was a policeman on base.

“I have contacts.”

“I see.” Radko made a mental note to let Vega know. Military police shouldn’t have been able to get that detail.

Han watched her face. “I like to know what I’m getting into. And we do have orders on our comms.”

“Those orders shouldn’t be something you can get from your contacts.” Radko looked around at the crowd waiting to exit the shuttle. “We’ll discuss it when it’s more private.”

Radko’s team was directed to a small, eight-man shuttle. They were the only passengers for Barth, the fourth-largest spaceport on Shaolin.

“We get people like you every four, five trips,” the pilot said. “They think because it’s busy and on the southern end of the continent, it’s a good place to come if you need to go south. But there’s nothing but cargo sheds. Passengers don’t usually get off here. Most people go on to San See and take an aircar across the continent.”

Which was why their equipment was stored at Barth. “It’s close to where we need to go,” Radko said. “And provided we can hire an aircar, does it matter if there’s nothing there?”

“Lady, your aircar will have to come from San See. If you were thinking of saving money, this is not it.” The pilot turned abruptly and waved frantically at Chaudry, who’d been about to strap himself in beside a small, refrigerated crate. “Not on that side. Can’t taint the special orders, can we.”

Chaudry squeezed in between van Heel and Han instead.

Radko looked at the crate. She recognized the logo. “Gippian shellfish. Here?”

“You’d be surprised where we take these babies,” the pilot said. “Here. The center of the galaxy. The outer rim. We go from Lancia to Redmond, Roscracia to Yaolin, and everywhere between. Anyplace someone is prepared to pay for them.”

Including Haladea III, where the Lancastrian ambassador served them to his guests.

It was a pity this particular delivery wasn’t going straight to Redmond.

“Gippian shellfish,” Han said, salivating.

“Spacers can’t afford shellfish on our wage,” van Heel said. “You’ll never get to taste it, Han.”

Chaudry shuddered. “I had one once. It was awful.”

“Gunter Wong is a friend of my father’s,” Han said. “He brings it over sometimes when he comes for dinner. Fresh as.”

Van Heel and Chaudry might not have understood the reference, but Radko did. Gunter Wong owned the Gippian shellfish company. His beds were on the coast in the province of Han, across the river from the main Han estate, in fact.

“Wish I had friends like that,” the shuttle pilot said. “I’ve never even tasted the things. That little box is a week of my wages.”

“Some people say they’re an acquired taste.” Radko smiled as she thought of Ean, politely swallowing shellfish, then washing it down with a mouthful of wine.

“It’s a taste I wouldn’t mind acquiring.”

The discussion as to the merits of whether it was worth acquiring lasted until touchdown.

The pilot let them off with a cheery wave. “Order your aircar now,” he said. “It’s got to come half a continent. You’ll be here awhile.”

Radko didn’t tell him the aircar was already on its way, courtesy of Vega’s well-laid plans.

He off-loaded his precious cargo into the drone that waited for it, and he and the drone took off at the same time.

Han looked around. “We must be the only humans for hundreds of kilometers. What a dismal place.”

“We’ve an aircar coming,” Radko said. “Let’s collect our gear.” Their gear was stowed in a cargo container on the edge of the field.

“They couldn’t have gotten it out any farther away without taking it all the way back to San See.” Han clapped Chaudry on the back, making him jump. Chaudry had been looking around nervously. “You don’t have to worry about other people. There’s no one here.”

Radko suspected that was the problem. “Have you been out of the city before, Chaudry?”

He shrugged. “Maybe.” It was a mumble.

There was a cure for that. Take his mind off the wide-open spaces. “Van Heel, you’re in charge of our equipment. Tell us what you want. Chaudry, you pack it. Han, you’re on guard.”

She watched what van Heel chose. She definitely skewed to the surveillance and electronic side.

“Add two sheets of explosives,” Radko said. If all else failed, they could blow themselves out of trouble. “Some hand weapons. A blaster each. And spares.”

She checked the stats of the ship they were to travel to Redmond on. It was a commercial liner. “Van Heel, what can you hide from the ship security?”

“You don’t hide something like this from a ship,” van Heel said. “You bribe the staff. I’ve got that in hand.”

Radko hoped she was right. “More weapons then.” Something that didn’t look like a weapon. Something they could put in their baggage. “A tranq gun. And that Pandora field diffuser, there.”

“That’s not a weapon,” van Heel said. “I don’t even know why it’s in the container. It’s practically an antique.”

Radko hid a smile. Commodore Vega, who collected ancient weapons, had an early-model Pandora field diffuser on her wall. “You never know. It might come in useful.” It wouldn’t be the first time one had been used as a weapon.

“If we come across a meteor shower,” Han said, picking it up and handing it across to Chaudry. “We’ll let the captain know we’ve got one in our luggage.”

“Any other crazy suggestions?” van Heel asked.

“No,” Radko said. “I’m sure you think one is enough.”

Once in the aircar, the extended day caught up with Radko. All she wanted to do was sleep. Instead, she spent the trip to the spaceport going over the job and getting a feel for her new team.

“You all know this is a covert mission,” she said. “Secrecy is vital and will likely save your life. Don’t discuss the mission where we can be overheard.”

“Are you sure it’s covert ops?” Chaudry said uneasily. “I don’t think I’d be good at that.”

It wasn’t a comment Radko would have expected from a man whose psychiatrist said he had a death wish. Radko thought Toll’s assessment might be more accurate.

Van Heel pulled out her comms and held it up to him. “What do you think that code means?”

Radko craned her neck to look. Van Heel had brought up her mobilization orders.

Chaudry looked at the orders as if he’d never seen them before although he had.

Van Heel put her comms back into her pocket. “You can’t say you didn’t look at it, for you’re in casual clothes, like the rest of us.”

“I was on leave. My kit’s in my bag.”

“And I was pulled out of a training course I’d waited two years for,” Han said.

One soldier on leave, another on a training course. Vega must have scrambled to get this together so fast. Even if Vega’s main reason for choosing them had been their line ability, surely there were more than three available linesmen in the Lancian fleet.

Perhaps Vega didn’t trust the Lancian fleet right now. Sattur Dow was getting his information from somewhere, and it was more likely to be inside the fleet than out of it. Radko could understand that Vega might go outside the usual channels to put her covert-ops team together.

Which meant Chaudry and Han wouldn’t have had the usual pre-op training. Vega would deal with it when they got back. In the meantime, a quick overview of the basics would be a good start.

“I hope you all understand what a covert op entails. No uniforms. No comms out until we’ve completed our task. In fact, you should all have received new comms before you left.”

They nodded.

“You should have left your own comms behind.”

This time van Heel was the only one who nodded.

Should she make them wipe their comms? She could, because they’d compromised the job by bringing them. If Redmond got hold of either comms, they would know who they had. But then, they hadn’t known any better.

She coded a security override into her own comms. “Give me your personal comms.”

Chaudry handed his over first. She pushed the override through and handed it back. “Iris and fingerprint recognition.” Radko waited until Chaudry had held the comms up to his eyes, then pressed his thumb on the screen. “You, and only you, can use it. If anyone else tries, the whole thing will be wiped clean.”

Han handed his over but didn’t let go of it. “Mine’s already set for that.” She could see it was true. “My family is paranoid about security.”

Radko remembered Renaud Han as an easygoing man. Still, it had been years. Maybe he’d changed.

“Give me permission to check the settings.”

He did. It was way more secure than she’d made Chaudry’s.

“Right. Don’t use your personal comms for anything. Turn it off and pack it away in your bag. Use the issued comms from now on.”

Han scowled down at his hands.

“Han?” If he refused to do this, she was going to take his comms away. Or maybe try to use it so that it wiped itself.

“Understood.” Han depressed the back panel to turn his comms fully off. He looked at it, then held it out to her.

She almost took it, shook her head at the last moment. “You’re responsible for your own shit, Han. Look after it.”

He slipped it into his pocket.

“Same for you, Chaudry. Don’t use your personal comms for anything.”

Preliminaries over, it was time to get back to the job in hand. “We’re going to Redmond, where Tiana Chen—that’s me—will attempt to buy a stolen report. You are my bodyguards.”

Han stretched himself out in one of the seats, arms crossed behind his head. “Tiana Chen. You don’t mean that loathsome woman who hangs around court and blackmails everyone?”

“I do.”

Chaudry cleared his throat. “Redmond is enemy territory.”

“Of course it is,” van Heel said. “Covert ops. Remember. You do them in enemy territory.”

You didn’t always, but Radko didn’t correct her.

Chaudry pulled at the knuckles on his right hand. “I don’t speak Redmond; I work in Stores.” He didn’t state his question aloud, but Radko understood, anyway.

“They haven’t made a mistake. You were specifically chosen. All of you were.”

“Why?” van Heel asked. “So when we do get this report they can catalog them properly in Stores?”

“That’s better than the other option,” Han said. “That we’re disposable.”

“No one is disposable,” Radko said. “I intend to bring us all back.” Herself included. “We do this carefully, and we do it safely. I’ll take Chaudry and Han with me. Van Heel, I want you on surveillance, and as a backup if anything goes wrong.”

Van Heel nodded.

“As for not understanding the native Redmond language, Chaudry, you don’t have to. The person we are meeting knows where we are from. She’ll expect us to speak Standard.”