Quiet War: A science fiction thriller by Frank Kennedy

Author:Frank Kennedy [Kennedy, Frank]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-05-11T00:00:00+00:00

19

THE CALL CAME EARLY: Security conference promptly at H8 in Amity Central Administration. “Everyone will be present,” Dorrit told him. “Including the President.”

That was all the café Trevor needed to power him through his morning routine. President Kieran Haas wouldn’t attend unless the stakes extended far beyond elevated K3 in two pads of Motif.

“Got any theories, bruv?”

Bleary-eyed Connor remained in bed, wiping hair from his face. He hit the sack an hour before Trevor received the ding on his wrist plate.

Trevor spit mouthwash into the sink.

“I don’t theorize about Presidents. They play by different rules.”

Connor squeezed a pillow against his chest.

“You sure rant about them. Especially the last one.”

Trevor threw on his jacket and slipped his pom inside.

“She was a criminal, C. Got what she deserved.”

“Didn’t the inquest clear her name?”

Connor loved to challenge his older brother on the subject of Collectorate Presidents, few of whom Trevor respected. Absolute power transformed people into animals, a topic on which he had no time to debate this morning.

“The Board of Inquiry was stacked with her sycophants. Look, C, I need to leave. How did your shift go? See or hear anything odd?”

Connor talked through an extended yawn.

“Actually, bruv. Yeah.”

“Like?”

“Students. Maynor students.”

“Go on.”

“I was inspecting the ABLs outside the Halifax receiving platform. It was downshift, so there’s usually nobody about. Even the drone loaders were quiet. That’s when I saw five students. At least, I assume they were. Younger than me.”

“They wouldn’t be authorized for that location.”

Connor moistened his lips.

“Nope.”

“Did they see you?”

“Hard to miss the guy in the orange jumpsuit. I don’t think they cared. At first, they passed around a digipipe. Conversation got heated. I didn’t hear enough to make sense of it, but two went after each other with closed fists.”

May be worth a follow-up.

“Would you be able to ID them from glyphs?” Connor gave a thumbs-up. “Good. See you after work. Get some sleep.”

Connor hurled a pillow at Trevor.

“Send my best to the President.”

Trevor shot back with a sly grin.

“Your name will never come up. Guaranteed.”

Connor feigned ignorance, flailing his arms.

“What? The cake accident happened seven years ago. She’s forgot about me, bruv.”

Trevor wished.

“That woman carries vendettas. Later, C.”

Connor lost his residency qualification for Harmony one month after a brief kerfuffle at the Stallion-Labroque wedding reception. Trevor suspected but never proved Haas – then a Congresswoman – instigated the order as retribution for public embarrassment.

Connor was right, of course. The most powerful woman in the galaxy didn’t care squat about anyone with an L3 pay stamp. Trevor presumed her vindictiveness went deeper. She and Grandfather Max butted heads often. Haas fought legislation to help Chancellor refugees establish small colonies on member worlds. Not the only politician with anti-Chancellor bias, but she often wore hers like a badge of honor.

All the more reason Trevor intended to keep his head down.

He met Dorrit at Mogandi Station and was surprised to see Hoshi tag along. Since when did Second Deputies attend a Presidential-level emergency confab?

“It’s irregular,” the Chief admitted, “but Central requested both investigating officers.

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