Chapter 26

Kat had been taken from the shuttle and straight to the ship's brig. Her cell, a four by six meter rectangle, was brutally simple and very effective. There was an extruded plastic platform, about the size of a coffin, glued to the floor and intended as a bed. There was a plastic toilet, also glued to the floor and to the bulkhead. One wall of the cell was floor to ceiling metal bars, spaced too closely for even her smaller arm to squeeze through, and broken only by a door with an electromagnetic lock that was controlled from a desk on the far side of the room.

She had been pacing her cell for three days with no interaction from her jailers. She had slept as much as her tortured dreams of exploding ships would allow, and spent much of her waking time exercising in the space available, trying to keep her mind from endlessly replaying the events on the ship, second guessing her actions. Her attempts to start a conversation with the two guards ended up with a fire hose being turned on and Kat balled up in the corner of the room, protecting her face and her vitals from the brutally powerful stream of water. It was an archaic technique, but effective.

The powerful stream of water had shredded the paper coverall they had given her when she arrived, and the quiet snickers of the guards told her that they had known it would happen. It took several hours for the cell to dry out but the guards didn't offer her a new suit until meal time, one of two meals they provided each day.

Kat, exhausted and frustrated, sat on her bunk with her head in her hands and tried to review what she had learned since her capture. Except for the uniforms of the soldiers and crew, she could see no real differences between the this ship and the Naval ships she had been on before, even the paint scheme was the same. It was frightening how well disciplined these people were. This was not some spur of the moment setup, it was obviously part of some larger plan.

The range of accents she had heard so far led her to believe that the majority of this crew was local to the Beta Sector, but there was a leavening of other accents, about what you would expect to hear in any group. She could surmised, then, that this was not a strictly Betan issue, but that she had been captured by a ship based in this sector.

Kat didn't have a clue what their goals were, or, for that matter, what their motivations were, unless you took the anarchistic mantras they fed to the public as gospel. It was obvious that this force had some serious financial backing. Ships like this, even worn old Military rejects, still cost millions of credits. Refitting an old ship, especially when one took into consideration the cost of black-market weaponry that rivaled active duty Military ships, would be beyond the reach of all but the largest mega-corps. Multiply that cost by at least six and you had a budget that was beyond a lot of planetary governments and even some system-wide governments.

So far, three mega-corps, that she knew of, were involved in this somehow. Anson, obviously, plus LMP and its parent corp in the Delta Sector. Even for three huge, system-spanning corporations, shuffling that kind of money around, unnoticed and unreported, would be a stretch. It was a good bet that there were other mega-corps, and even a planetary government or two involved.

The sound of quiet conversation seeped through Kat's concentration and drew her eyes towards the entrance to the Brig. Standing in the doorway was Vicar Gauss. He was speaking to the two guards and a fourth man she had never seen before. Kat had to mentally smack herself for missing the obvious as she stared at the men. The guards, and the fourth man, had their hands folded in front of them, their eyes on the floor and their stance was deferential.

Vicar was a title, an office held, and Gauss was a scientific unit of measurement for a magnetic field. Why she hadn't made the connection before, she didn't know, though she had been rather caught up in other concerns. The Vicar title, she recalled, had been one used in an archaic religion from old Earth. She had seen it used in historical texts and even, once, in an historical docu-drama she had watched. The Gauss name was in line with the technological bent of the ExTrans, in as much as they preached the free use of technology to both abolish death and transform humanity into metahumanity.

It was just another fact to file away in her mind, sure to be important later though she couldn't imagine exactly how at the moment.

Gauss finished his hushed conversation with the men by the door and approached her cell. He stood outside the bars, hands behind his back and rocked forward and backward on his heels as he studied her. Kat met his eyes defiantly, though it was difficult to summon up the fury that had infused her a few days before. Days spent in forced inactivity had a stultifying effect on her, making her feel loggy and drained.

"Sorry for leaving you all alone for so long, Themis. I had a few other issues to clear up so that I could clear my calendar. I wanted no interruptions when I started your questioning." The quiet, matter-of-fact menace in his tone sent a chill down Kat's spine. She could hear an undercurrent of excitement in his voice, an anticipation of whatever came next.

"It has been a while since I had a vacation." Kat said conversationally, projecting a false bravado she really didn't feel. "This spa is a bet sparse on the amenities, but the refreshing shower and the opportunity to meditate more than make up for the sub-par cuisine."

Gauss laughed delightedly, a grin on his face and his eyes sparkling. "Good! I was hoping that your stay had been comfortable. I wouldn't want it to be said that I was a bad host."

He looked at the guards and made a gesture towards the cell door. One of them retreated to the desk and activated the solenoid for the magnetic lock while the other grabbed a truncheon from a rack on the wall and eased the door open. He flicked a switch on the handle of the club and the crackling sound of electricity accompanied a blue-white halo of sparks that surrounded the head of the club.