"I want to speak with Colonel Hanno."
"One moment, please."
A short pause.
"Hanno."
"This is a Sentinel call. Break the seal on your
copy of the Sentinel Support Plan and refer to
Annex C, Section 21, line numbers 416 to 422.
Note the encryption structure. I will cite the line
in the structure that authenticates my request
for support. Waiting."
Minutes passed. Breaking the seal on the highest
classification Sentinel Support Plan was a grave
responsibility that Hanno would not take lightly.
He would need to do it in the station's security
vault with no witnesses present. The comm center
would then need to be cleared of personnel other
than Hanno before the exchange could proceed.
Finally, the receiver whispered again.
"I have the lines you refer to. Continue."
"Note how the authenticator is to be stated,"
Zolan said.
He rattled off a sequence of numbers, letters
and symbols. Injecting a short, prescribed silence,
he spun off another set. The authenticator was
in two parts, each requiring its own style for
presentation.
"Authenticator confirmed," Hanno said after a
pause. "State request?"
"I'm in a flitter near the Gateway," Zolan said.
"Request permission to come aboard and have
unattended access to the spunnel transmitter
for about five minutes. I will then depart."
"Permission granted. Do you wish an escort from
your present position to the dock?"
"Yes, please send an unarmed tug to lead me through
the gate, match me up, and point me at the dock. Tug
operator and anyone else that observes my presence
or the flitter must not repeat must not log the
serial number of my flitter or any of its features.
Clear all your people to beyond five meters in all
direction from the passageways I'll be using, and
from the spunnel comm center. I am armed with
a hand weapon set for maximum effect without
collateral damage to non-organics. My mission
requires such precautions. Do you accept these
conditions?"
"I accept."
"Noted. Have an unarmed guide at the air lock to
precede me to the spunnel console. Instruct him to
not speak to me, no questions, and to not interfere
in any manner in what I do. When I've completed
my work in the comm room the guide is to lead me
back to the air lock. The same tug is then to get
me through the Gateway, same conditions, and I'll
be out of your way. When I'm gone conduct your
highest-level UIPS security briefing. This mission
is classified UIPS Black. Understood?"
"Understood. Ready?"
"Ready. I am moving toward the Gateway and will be
there in two minutes. Have your man flash his reds
and greens at one-second intervals. I will respond
with standard flitter yellows at the same spacing.
Over. Out."
Zolan carefully adjusted the controls to slip the
flitter away from the screening vessels. Clear,
he maneuvered his craft close to a space buoy
that marked the route through Fandango.
A yellow-green striped tug appeared in the distance
and grew larger. The Gateway's diameter could expand
to pass the largest freighters or close completely.
It could be straight or as convoluted as a randomly
configured corkscrew. The tug passed through,
flashing the agreed-on signals.
Zolan responded. The tug stopped, reversed heading,
and waited for him to line up. Inside the force
field, the route took them over, under and around
huge freighters and through swarms of shuttles,
tugs, and barges. Five hundred meters from the
depot Zolan pressed a disk on his control column
and a mag beam reached out and locked on to the tug.
The tug's thrusters glowed brighter with the power
to match up both craft. Aligned, Zolan released the
tug, and gentling his thrusters, brought his flitter
to rest on a landing platform that had articulated
from a portal.
Space suit closed and glare screens partially
activated to veil his features, Zolan strode the
Depot's corridors behind his escort. Although he
had docked at the portal nearest his destination,
the spunnel console was still almost a quarter kay
from the air lock.
Reaching the console chamber, Zolan motioned his
guide to wait outside. He entered and inspected
the area for intruders and bugs. It seemed secure.
Approaching the squat spunnel transmitter he noted
that Hanno had activated the system for immediate
use and disengaged all logs and file-for-record
links. Confirming the disconnect, Zolan wasted
no time in preliminaries. Inserting the capsule he
keyed the transmitter to the channels assigned
to Sentinel and set off his burst.
The transmitter was a model that dated back several
centuries to the depot's construction. Zolan knew
from his training for the mission that a spunnel
burst from the depot had to be arranged in parts.
Each segment was to be inserted separately into
the spunnel dispatch slot. The ancient transmitter
could process only so much at a bite.
Zolan held the final segment and reached to insert
it. A couple of seconds and the transmission would
be complete. The console was coded to dissolve
the capsule immediately following the burst; there
would be no residue.
Zolan bent to insert the end of the message.
Sensing movement behind him, he slipped sideways
and hit the deck. Without warning and in the
line-of-fire, the squat console disintegrated as
a rending flash arced across to where he had been
a fraction of second before. Off balance, twisting
to face the door, Zolan drew his weapon.
The flash blinded him. His suit shielded him
against the instant hell-fire that bounced off
the console.
Silence followed the attacker's second shot. Zolan
crouched, weapon extended, vision clearing. No
further shots. Snapping a quick glance around, he
took in the damage. The console was a melted lump
and the room a shambles. He had to get out and away.
Up on his feet, he raced through the open doorway,
gun raised. His escort to the comm room lay
spread-eagled in the corridor, head burned to a
crisp by what must have been a max shot. The
corridor was empty.
"They cleared the area of everyone but the killer,"
he thought bitterly.
Having committed the route to memory as he followed
the escort to the spunnel room, Zolan raced along
the corridors, gun in hand. No one barred his way.
The air lock came in view. He hurried through and
twisted into the flitter driver's cage. He cut the
mag beam to the dock and signaled the waiting tug.
##
They met on the transit strip.
Standing close, facing off the strip, observant,
Zolan briefed Brad in quick, terse phrases.
"What's your assessment?" Brad asked when
Zolan finished.
"It was a long, straight corridor. The escort must
have been shot from the bend some distance away.
Damage to the comm room was extensive. Scarf
must have an agent there. My having the area
cleared alerted him. That brought on the attack."
"Did you get word to Hanno?"
"No. It would have raised questions I couldn't
answer without breaking our cover. He'll have
to figure it out for himself. I'm concerned about
what the agent will report to his control."
"Whatever they conclude, the action eliminates
the depot as a comm resource for us. Did you
get the entire message on its way?"
"I don't know. The last fragment included the Point
Icarus coordinates."
Their eyes met.