Max and Me by Barton Paul Levenson

Author:Barton Paul Levenson
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781616501556
Publisher: Lyrical Press, Inc.
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

“Gunner!” my control said.

“Steve!”

“We’re sending you out in the field.”

“Oh, excellent!”

Steve’s big office had a weird split down the middle. The left side held a desk and chairs, bookcases, dark wood, subdued lighting. The right held a hardware lab, white counter, tools, work lighting.

“This is an undercover operation to find moles in Supplies,” Steve said. “The enemy’s Seventh Directorate is pursuing something called ‘noise warfare,’ by which they mean, believe it or not, screwing up support for the troops.”

“So why do they call it noise warfare?”

“Because they’re deliberately generating random noise in the supply statistics. They’re raising the economic uncertainty associated with getting adequate supplies to the front, putting more stress on the troops and officers.”

“Ah.”

“You’ll be a supply clerk in a hardware depot on Pallas. Your new name will be Björn Dahlquist.”

“Clever. That’ll decoy them away from my real name.”

“We try to keep the last name the same so if someone shouts ‘Dahlquist!’ behind your back, you’ll still turn around. Believe me, people have been caught by not turning around or responding to the right name.”

“I take it back. Good tactic.”

“Great. Now, you were a supply pilot, but you started getting shy at dockings and landings, hesitating, getting things wrong. Finally you crashed a Herakles Nine and people were hurt, though, God be thanked, no one was killed. Afterward you were grounded and placed where you are now. You resent the hell out of it. They didn’t give you a chance. They didn’t even try rehab. They’re conscienceless bastards. You hate them.”

“Hmm, I hate the brass. Wonder if I can fake that.”

“Well, we try to assign cover roles the agent can naturally fall into. To go on, you’re a loner, a brooder, a bit of a nut. You haven’t got a girlfriend or a boyfriend. The only creature you care about is your little black cat, Max.”

“I get a cat? Cool!”

“You do actually like cats?”

“Sure.”

A cat carrier sat on the lab counter. Steve got up from his big padded office chair, went to the counter, opened the cat carrier. He drew out Max and placed him on the desk between us. “This is Max,” he said. “Max, this is Gunnar Dahlquist.”

“Hi there, boy.” I put out a hand to pet him.

“Stop that,” Max said, avoiding my hand.

“Huh? The cat talks!”

“I know,” Steve said.

“The cat has human level intelligence,” Max said. “Try not to talk about the cat in third person. It pisses the cat off.”

“It’s a Beast?”

“A very special Beast. A field courier in grade, currently assigned to the same op—”

“He,” Max said. “He is a Beast, not it.”

“Intelligent cats don’t like to be petted?”

“I don’t like being petted by other guys. With girls it’s okay.”

“What’s the point?” I asked Steve. “This little guy must have taken billions to create. Why use him just as cover material?”

“We believe the agent who is recruiting our people is very good, very subtle, a great psychologist. But he, or she, doesn’t depend on that. At the moment our guy is ready

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