“Do not break the terms of our agreement.”
Jadis offered another bow and returned to his ship. He closed the bay doors and the ramp, muttering to himself as he did a sweep for spy equipment. There were nearly ten. He disabled these after he had clearance from traffic control.
Twenty minutes later he was on course for his station and easing into the first cargo bay.
“Do not break the terms of our agreement,” Jadis mocked as he reconfigured the scanner in his hand.
Most likely the crates were set with alarms for any type of radiation or active scanning tech. He was better off with a passive scan to detect anything that the crates might be broadcasting. The crates looked to be of some advanced material that was familiar.
Seconds later, he was cross-referencing the specification of the crates with manufacturers before he found one that matched perfectly. It took every ounce of self-control within him to not complete a full scan on the crates.
They were pods. There were either people in those crates, or there were about to be people in those crates. Jadis checked the weight distribution against the specifications from the manufacturer, and concluded that there were definitely people in the crates. He calculated the offset and soon had running figures for the weights of the individuals. There was really only one conclusion and he really hated himself for recognizing it.
So, for the next nine and a half hours, Jadis agonized over how to handle the situation. Was it possible this was a legitimate transaction? Not if they were going below board and Jadis was involved. Was it possible that he was wrong? The figures were pretty exact and it would take something really outrageous to make it false. Did he really feel this was worth dying over, or even losing his reputation with the black market? Was this the line he couldn’t cross?
That last one answered the question loud and clear. That was the one line he couldn’t cross.
Jadis Ter sent a request to the feds on his console, and immediately felt more than a little drowsy. Before he completely passed out, he sent an encoded message to the feds.
“You have to save the kids,” he wheezed, pushing send, and letting the darkness engulf him entirely.
Chapter Four
A Meeting Goes Wrong
Jadis was in and out of consciousness for nearly a week as his body fought the effects of the poison he’d inhaled. By the time he was able enough to be aware of his surroundings, he knew it was too late to raise any alarms. Instead, he sat in the bed of the clinic on his power station, fuming quietly. The medic that checked on him regularly also did so in silence after the first time he’d snapped.
Sitting quietly, he replayed his digital memories of the men he’d spoken with on the planet. Their faces were blurred, and, for what was probably the hundredth time, Jadis attempted to clear the blur mask, but with no luck. Whoever hacked his system knew exactly what they were doing and his capabilities.
All of his accounts on the darkNet were empty of marks. His official accounts that were federally monitored still held just under a half million marks, but there were salaries to be paid and upkeep for the station. Once the monthly transfer was complete, Jadis normally had about 40 thousand marks remaining for his living expenses. That meant he had to go back to the old paradigm of saving his marks and living thrifty. The fuel he’d consumed on his journey to the plant was nearly 10 thousand marks to refill.
Clinching and unclinching a single dark fist, Jadis gritted his teeth and attempted to push aside the thought that continued to stoke his anger. Those accounts on the darkNet had amassed nearly three million marks. All gone.
Worse yet, he didn’t save any of the kids in those pods.
Jadis slammed his fist down on the bedside table, startling another young medic who had just entered. The medic turned back in the direction he came and walked away quickly.
Manager Tylen sauntered into the room, an index finger brushing his thin mustache. “Jadis.”
“Tylen.”
“Are you coherent now?” Tylen asked.
“I suppose.”
To his credit, Jadis Ter tried to lift his tone, but he couldn’t get past all the guilt in his gut. If he had never taken the job he’d know nothing about those kids. Even his efforts at the end did nothing to help them and now all he felt was completely useless. Jadis never considered himself to be a hero, but he also never thought he was evil, but now…
Tylen’s soft hands caught his fist before he could set it down. “You’re unnerving the staff, Jadis.”
“What’s it matter? I couldn’t save them. I can’t even save myself,” Jadis said in anguish.
“Is that what this is about? You risked your life to send the feds a message, and you barely survived. I think you did everything within your power,” Tylen assured him.
Jadis heard from the medic how the dock workers were the first to his ship, unloading the cargo quickly before another vessel, whose id was obviously counterfeit, undocked and made a direct course to Alpha at full thrust. It was hours before the block on his communications was removed and his message to the feds was released. From that point forward, the station was a chaotic mess of feds, medics, and administrators. The station sensors detected the poison first, and the cargo bay was cleared as environmental suits were donned and emergency hazard pay protocols were in place. That took fifty percent of what he saved.
The feds insisted on checking the cargo bays first. When it was revealed all the bays were empty, they allowed a small group to the bridge where they found Jadis. The environmental controls on the ship sealed the chamber shut when it first detected the poison. There was no recycling of air, no addition of new air, only the poison laced stale air that waited for a single breath to take it away. The working theory was that his body had detected the poison and placed Jadis into a forced hibernation.
The rest he could piece together. The medics couldn’t tell what most of the readouts meant for a creature of his design. Was he dying? Would he ever come out of the hibernation state? Was it dangerous to force him out?
In the end, they’d attached an oxygen mask to his face and monitored his condition. Other than a weakness in his limbs and shame in his heart, Jadis felt normal. His torso froze while his thighs sweat with heat. His abdomen cramped and shifted, while the blood that coursed through his veins hiccupped through a series of three hearts that beat in a consecutive motion that forced blood to circulate. Every three beats felt like his last when he was a boy. They shook his whole body with the fear that each tick was an attack.
Tylen released his hand, and Jadis gently lowered it to his bedside.
“Do you have something to report?” Jadis asked.
“A small contingent of our federal support are in pursuit. They probably won’t intercept until they’re near Alpha. At that point, the feds might be able to liberate the kids onboard,” Tylen said.
“I’ll have to figure out a way to see that they’re liberated, but first I’m going to need marks. All my contacts are a wash. You know anything?”
“As far as your old friends are concerned, you’re a risky commodity and not to be trusted. I don’t think you’ll be able to recover your reputation with them for at least a few decades. Which leaves only legitimate ventures.”
“You heard anything from the miners?”
“The usual. Altap Division swears they have sights on some serious pockets of deuterium on one of the moons at the outer edges. A group of… entrepreneurs… reported an asteroid field near Olia V. It’s risky, but if we had the equipment we might be able to find a good source from those floating rocks.”
“Who’s got those kinds of resources out here?”