Eric Olafson, First Journeys (Vol 2)
Copyright© 2018 by Vanessa Ravencroft
Chapter 15: Hoods
When the alarm woke me, I was surprised I had found sleep in the first place. Visiting the prisoners facing certain death had affected me more than I thought. I remembered images of a fading dream about Tyr and Egill accusing me of judging and killing without remorse. Dawn had assured me yesterday that it was her who would throw the switch. Still, I had to be there. It was so she told me, the assistant’s task to put the blindfolding hoods over the delinquents’ faces, and it would be me who would see their faces last.
I had a long, cold shower and, after putting on the executioners uniform, girded the chain sword instead of the blaster. I simply did not want a weapon I had never used before. I stepped out of the small hotel room close to the police department. The corridor was guarded by two police officers who acknowledged me with a nod. Their faces clearly showed fear and disgust as they looked silently at me. Dawn appeared moments later from her room and said, “We still have time for breakfast; you are ready a little early.”
“I don’t think I can eat now.”
Her voice became softer. “Doing what we have to do is easier on a stomach that has something to do, trust me.”
We went together to her temporary office where breakfast was already served on a small table. Here, behind closed doors, she removed her hood and poured me a mug of coffee. “I cannot express how thankful I am that you are here. Even after all this time, I don’t really get used to it, and the main reason for the assistant is moral support, you know. So I am not totally alone when I have to do my work.”
I had no real response for that. I felt friendship and sympathy for Dawn, but not enough to make me feel less guilty. So I took the cup, watched her eating with purpose and eagerness in her moves, and said, “What will I have to do afterwards?”
“We both will take a break of two hours, and then you can talk to psych support if you like. Some executioners do. I fill out the final documents, and we are done.”
“So it means I still can go to the Academy in time?”
“It is not up to me but to the Chief Justice and I guess your admiral, but I could not see any reason to keep you any longer, unless of course you change your mind and want to pursue a career in the Justice or Correction department.”
“Sorry Dawn, but that is not me. I would rather go back to Nilfeheim and scrub Nubhir skins.”
She finished her breakfast and then, before she put her hood back on, she said,” If possible, do not lift the hood while doing it.” If possible, do not lift the hood while doing it.”
I made a sour face and put on the hood.” I keep that in mind, even though the thing has the perfect shape to catch it.”
She actually found that funny and laughed while we left the room and went to the waiting flier.
-””--
Corri City-Lox Marshall - Indoor Landscaping Inc
Sechz Sibenvoreinz had lived now for almost twenty years on Corri-Door undetected. Intelligence work was quite difficult; the Union was very successful protecting its most important secrets. No spy ever managed to find out what exactly was found on Arsenal III, that made the Union occupy an unimportant and unoccupied star system deep in Galactic Council space such an important focus of treaties and transform it into the most protected and defended system of the Galaxy. Corri-Door was strategically almost or perhaps even more important than Arsenal. The Border Control and Defense Headquarters were here, and everything moving across the borders was registered and analyzed here and at the central data processing system on the system’s smallest planet, Corrosive. Union BCaD processed immigration requests, checked and tracked visitors, especially those of unfriendly or enemy civilizations. They worked closely with the Union Intelligence and Counter Intelligence agencies, and the data and scanning results of millions of buoys, sensor arrays, deep space forts, and patrol ships were analyzed and processed. It was said that the BCaD had a record of every piece of space dust that floated between the borders. He knew it wasn’t so far from the truth.
He had come here twenty years ago, entering the Union via Checkpoint 96 disguised as pilgrim Lox Marshall who had left Union space a month before to visit the Whispering Uni Ruins on Netlor. The real Lox Marshall never returned from Netlor, of course.
It helped that Lox was a loner and had no real family, which of course was the reason Lox had been targeted in the first place. Kermac Intelligence kept close tabs on all members of the sect belonging to the Church of the Golden Whispering Spirit of the Universe, as it was a wonderful way to get hold of Union citizens and either turn them or replace them. It had to be done carefully and sporadically, not to ruin a good thing and possibly expose about two hundred agents. Sechz had almost forgotten his real name; he had been surgically altered to represent the bald-headed short shopkeeper from Corri-Dorr. He carried the original CIT of Marshall in his arm inside a bio-patch sack and real Marshall tissue and DNA. So casual CITI scans matched the DNA to the CITI and he was verified. His mental wave pattern could not be altered to match that of Marshall, but the Kermac were PSI tech experts, second only to the Saresii, and he carried an implant that masked his mental waves and simulated Marshall’s patterns. Marshall owned a small indoor landscaping business in Corri-City, Tunnel 8. His eighteen employees had no idea they actually worked for a Kermac spy. Marshall kept a low profile and only travelled once a month to the Sect Temple on Palomino. He kept regular GalNet contact via his avatar in Dream World, and it was a harmless romance; of course, they used an extensive sign language to convey information. He was sure there were sniffer programs searching for key words, even code words, and the cursed Union had very advanced computronics and successfully implemented it, but they would not be able to monitor visual gestures of avatars. He, of course, had no idea who his online lover really was other than his handler.
He had just finished delivering white roses and lilies to one of the sales stands near the execution site and saw his Gal Net terminal blinking. His online lover wanted to have a chat with him. It had to be something urgent; otherwise, he would not be contacted out of schedule. He closed his office door, told his office assistant he did not want to be disturbed, and laid down on the low-grav Dream Couch. The real world disappeared, and moments later, he stood in an almost sickeningly happy place with green meadows, trees, and oversized flowers and butterflies. This was the lobby environment of Dream Maker. He went to his private flower and opened the middle of the air door to his private dream world.
To his surprise, not only was Micara, his Avatar lover, here, but another Avatar, and it was a Standard Base Line Avatar. Whoever it was did not spend more than five minutes in creating it. It looked very blank and was a sexless approximation of a human being. Micara said aloud, “I missed you, my lover.” And her hands wiggled, and she said, “This is my supervisor; he has an urgent assignment for you.”
The other Avatar said ... looking to the side and obviously talking to someone in the real world, “Not now, Vorneun. I don’t care how the Avatar looks like. I am very well able to...”
The sexless avatar suddenly changed and sported a long beard and four arms.
His Lover Micara, hissed angrily, “No names. Use the Avatar name I gave you.”
The four-armed avatar suddenly grew to six meters and lost two of his arms, and the skin turned bright white. The Avatar moved as if slapping or hitting someone and cursed, “Leave the Avatar controls alone. It does not matter how it looks.”
Sechz was a little confused. The new avatar acted like a being directed by two noob operators who had never used a Dream Maker before. Yet he was certain he had heard the name Nachacht and that it could only be the Grand Wizard of the Military. Since the one directing the Avatar had no quarrels hissing at the other, it was quite logical to assume it was another High Wizard.
Micara then spoke about love and used dirty words, and her fingers said, “You are aware of the execution taking place tomorrow?”
He complimented her looks and was distracted as the other Avatar shrunk to look like a 20-centimeter gnome complete with a white beard and red hat and said with an angry tone again to someone not in the simulation, “So this is how you think I should look?” Again, the slapping motion of hands as if to chase someone away from input controls.
He signaled back to Micara, unable to take his eyes off the Grand Wizard-controlled avatar, “Yes, I just delivered flowers.”
“You must sabotage the event. We don’t care how or what you do, but it must be disturbed so it has to be postponed or does not take place at all.”
Sechz didn’t like that at all. He was a spy and didn’t mind collecting information but to actively commit sabotage, murder, or an act of terror on a planet swarming with Marine and Union Police security, basically suicide.
He signaled, “I am biologically Kermac; if I get caught, they will know it was Kermac and will cause political problems. Besides, it is too late to plan anything. The Execution will take place in less than 12 hours.”
The Gnome avatar grew but kept his shape. “It is not your place to consider political problems. It is your place to obey and serve. Refuse, and you wish you would be dead.”
Again, Micara hissed, “Do not use words like this. Don’t speak. I get the message across.”
Micara’s hands spoke, “This is a Prime Order of highest authority. You are welcome to terminate yourself after completing the task. But you will do as ordered.”
“I obey.”
Omni Planet
Rex stood next to his massive desk in the top floor of SII - Sky Needle IV. The tallest planet-bound structure on Omni Planet. The desk was made of a solid piece of black volcanic glass, obsidian, a material he liked as it somehow reflected and represented his character well. The desk weighed several tons and was in its simplistic clear design a symbol of power like few else. Dark gray slate covered the floor, the seams between the slate tiles pure gold. There was little else in the furniture other than a wide black leather chair hovering behind the desk. The three of the walls were floor-to-ceiling view ports. The technology hidden away, however, was quite arguably the finest and most advanced tech created by any known civilization that currently existed. In some aspects, approaching Celtest levels. Rex excluded the Narth, of course; whatever they incorporated into Project Fish was beyond anything his engineers had ever seen.
But not even the Narth knew something he knew. He was aware of the true purpose of the Guardian, and he knew who had put this artificial entity 255 million years ago underneath what today was the Himalayas on Earth.
A cold smile played around his lips as he thought about Richard Stahl, who personally had a team of gifted and quite talented individuals working to solve these questions. Good old Stahl. Honest to the bone. Stahl meant steel in an old Earth language, and Stahl was every bit like that metal. If they needed a picture to illustrate the very definition of Righteousness, Stahl’s picture would be perfect. He was the only one he would fear in an open conflict. That old soldier was very resourceful. Rex knew that Stahl had been on Narth Prime, so far the only human ever. Stahl had returned with that huge ship of his, during the height of the last Y’All Invasion, and to this day, no one knew where he got it from. Rex knew about the ultra-secret Celtest depot underneath the deserts of Arsenal III, but the stuff there was all mothballed by the Celtest, inactive and very dangerous to play and experiment with a technology level higher than your own, and the Celtest were at least TL 11 when they disappeared. The Devastator, however, was fully functional, and Stahl came back with the full knowledge of how Translocator Cannons worked and how they could be manufactured. The mighty Devastator could cloak so effectively that nothing known detected her. Where did he get the functional ship from? Not that he planned to go against Stahl or betray the Union, at least not in the near future. McElligott, the grand old man of the Fleet, however, held little respect in the eyes of Rex. True, after 3000 years, he knew the other Immortals, and there was a level of understanding that went beyond friendship, but in the richest man alive, thought of Elligott as past his prime and usefulness. He was picked by the Guardian to take care of the logistics and the politics needed to build a huge organization as the Fleet was, something the Warrior Stahl had no patience for.
Cherubim, on the other hand, was a great unknown. In all that time, he did not know her true purpose other than to be the eyes and ears of the growing humanity. She created the PSI corps and the Terran Space intelligence. He knew she somehow infiltrated the Sojonit Order, and there was, in his opinion, no better intelligence network in the galaxy. He was almost sure she had her fingers in other organizations.
He was interrupted by Yvonne, the most advanced android in the galaxy and perhaps the most capable battle robot. Yvonne carried the imprint of Clara, his first daughter, and looked exactly like she would look as a grown woman. She was created as a daily reminder that he had not avenged her death yet. True, the perpetrators who had abducted and killed her, he had found, and their end was as gruesome as his intellect and resources allowed him to be, but the ones that sent the kidnappers to make him work for them, the Kermac, still existed, and he would not rest until he had wiped them off the face of the universe.
The android handed him a printout in a black folder. The words: For RS only and the SII logo imprinted on it. Anyone else but him opening it would cause the complete molecular decay of the folder and what it contained. It was his daily report. Containing also all the activities of what he called Black Business. He liked the numbers he saw associated with the SII Entertainment Division. The profits soared, mostly due to Dream World. DW release 5.6 was hugely popular, and Dream Maker, the equipment and shell program you needed, despite its steep price of 1000 Credits, always had to be backordered no matter how many units SII Entertainment built. Naturally, SII-Ent Division could have produced enough units to flood the market, but creating this artificial shortage made it even more desirable to the customers across the galaxy. A secret division of Schwartz Industries did exactly some of the things Richard Stahl feared SII might do. They listened in on every conversation in Dream Maker, no matter how private or secure the user thought they were, and in subtle ways influenced users to prefer SII products and services. Rex Schwartz was very well aware of this, as this division reported to SII-Black Ops Command, which in turn delivered daily reports to their boss. Would he have political ambitions, he could indeed use Dream Maker and other channels to influence over 60 percent of the Union population and have himself elected king or emperor.
Yvonne said,” Master, you should look at document 9403.32. It is associated with the Kermac Spy on Corri-Door.”
Schwartz security knew about the Kermac using the sect of the whispering Spirit to infiltrate the Union for quite a while, ever since the Kermac replaced a SII employee sixty-five years ago. SII Security kept tabs on all of them. The employee, for example, was allowed to send selected information home. It was much better to control a known spy than exposing him and then trying to find who or whatever replaced him.
The Kermac spy on Corri-Door was more or less a sleeper, doing very little intelligence work and basically sending information to the Kermac that they could have gained by an extensive GalNet investigation. This time, however, his handler, a human woman on Pluribus, had contacted him while the Kermac delegation was there and with specific instructions to sabotage an execution that was about to take place. Rex knew, of course, about the implications and the political reasons why this particular execution had to take place without any complications. It was quite bold of the Kermac to order such a subversive attack on a Union planet. If the sabotage was successful and the Union identified who ordered it, it could easily escalate to war again. While Rex would not mind if the last war against the Kermac finally broke out. He had no doubt the Union would succeed and he would commit his fleet and secret military might into the fray, virtually guaranteeing victory, but the Nul would most likely not stay idle. The Free Space civilizations and especially the Kartanian and the Togar would also fight to maintain their interests. Still, he was certain the Union would be victorious but at a serious cost. He knew about the Call the Kermac made or were about to make, and the Union would then need all its strength. Rex knew who it was who would answer the call.
He found it was better to chip away at the Kermac power, thrall by thrall, deal with the Shiss first, and make sure they are no longer a factor, and then maybe in 30-50 years wipe those white-skinned meddlers out in one decisive hit. Unite the Galaxy under one rule, and then it would be time for the Master to return, and he would become the Emperor of the Union and then face what the Kermac had called.
He did not want to reveal his source of information, of course. “Do we have someone who can make it to Corri-Door on time and deal with Lox Marshall before he can do something?”
Yvonne, who was permanently connected not only to GalNet and GalCom but to the secret Comm-Channels of SII, immediately answered.“I have contacted a reliable asset, but there is a 56 percent chance he will not make it in time.”
“Monitor the situation, and if the chance rises over 75 percent, leak the report to Union Intel but make sure it is done so SII is not implicated.”
“Yes, Master.”
Lox Marshall
He had visited the prison and convinced one of the administration assistants working there that the indoor plants needed checking again and only needed a little supportive psionic suggestion, as he was the regular official contractor.
He could not visit the actual prison tract, but that was not needed. The prison guards were psionic-shielded, especially as there was a Psi talent in the cells at the moment.
He watered the indoor trees in the attached offices and glanced at the field screens monitoring the prisoners, as all he needed was visual contact. The woman was his target, and he planted a new wish in her mind. She wanted to hold flowers when she was executed. It was a harmless suggestion. That she would ask for Saran Lulus would guarantee they called him.
Adam Smith
He actually burned out the drive of his small but very fast Cobra Race ship. The damage was considerable to the very expensive high-performance racer he just had purchased 8 hours ago, but he had made it to Corri-Door with 3 hours to spare before the execution was to take place.
He had virtually unlimited funds to complete his mission and all available data on Lox Marshall in his data brain. His left eyeball was actually a precision laser emitter, and with it, he could drill a fine and deadly hole in his mark without anyone noticing him doing it, but he had to find his mark first. His papers identified him as John Adams of Luna, Sol system, arriving from Palomino; his CITI was no forgery but the real thing. Easily obtainable for a SII Black Ops enforcer, while the Citizen CIT implantation machines were made by the government, they used parts manufactured by the SII-Biotronics Division. Thus, the corresponding bio data was genuine as well.
He found tunnel ten and the business easily enough. After torturing the pretty office assistant with a Neuro pain-stimulating Poly scanner that was a crude but very effective technological alternative to a natural telepath, almost as good just not very gentle. But he only found that she only knew her boss had left, but she did not know where he went. So she had told the truth from the start. John shrugged; for that kind of bonus, he would gladly kill his own mother, bless her heart. He had sprayed the body with a quick bio dissolver. While he was on his way downtown, the flower shop assistant’s body already dissolved, bones and all. In about ten minutes, all evidence would be gone. However, finding Lox was not as easy; even this early in the morning, there was lots of foot traffic. The local transport systems overwhelmed, and there was the possibility Lox had disguised himself. He used his PDD to send a short burst message. The chances to find Lox in time had just climbed well past the 75 percent chance.
LOX
Lox lingered by the flower and souvenir stand near the city part and within eyesight of the scaffold, the one that had delivered flowers just the day before. The man running it was actually a friend of his, even though they were officially competitors. Ei Dum Kau of Terran human descent was a florist and had ordered extra stock with Lox to give him a share on the expected business. Ei, the small Asian man, came out of his store holding a PDD and asked, “Do you have any Pink Lulus left?”
Lox feigned surprise. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do have some.”
“One of the delinquents, a woman from Corri-Gas, wanted to hold a bouquet while she gets hanged, and they granted her this wish. I don’t have any pink ones left, and no one answers the PDD in your shop.”
He was lucky and got a cab right away. He wondered why Liona would not answer calls; she was usually so dependable. If she went to the hanging without asking, he would fire her.
He found the door to the shop unlocked, and a strange, sickening sweet smell hung in the air, but he had little time to be curious about smells. Only at the edge of his consciousness did he notice the almost perfectly human-shaped wet-looking puddle of dirty water on the floor behind the counter. The Kermac spy was way too agitated to really notice. He took a big bunch of Lulus out of the stasis storage, out of a hunch, he took a second weapon out of a hidden compartment in his desk, and checked the charge of his accelerator and rushed back downtown.
John Adams
It was almost hopeless to find Lox in all this. He was probably sitting somewhere, aiming a long-range beamer at the scaffold. John Adams loved to complete the mission. The bonus was astronomical; still, all the money could not help him find Lox faster.
Lox
Lox approached the barrier, and one of the beefy police officers in full armor was actually a neighbor of his who lived in a house just three tunnel recesses down from his in-tunnel recess dwelling in tunnel 9. He had often talked to that police officer since the officer took great pride in his little front lawn, and not only was a regular customer but also always asked Lox for plant and flower advice. The cop’s name was Trevor Burke. Lox was certain he would not even need psionic suggestions here, not that he would want to try. While the officer’s suit was not a new model but most likely had Psi shielding.
Burke looked impressive in the shiny blue battle armor, holding a shock baton in his right hand. He had his helmet visor open, and the baton was deactivated. Despite the crowds, the police seemed relaxed, and it was clear they did not expect any trouble. There actually were eight protesters with signs, and they were heckled by the crowd and posed no security problem. Trevor raised the huge hand of the battle armor. “Oh good morning, Mr. Marshall. Say what pretty pink flowers. What are those?”
“Good morning, Mr. Burke. These are Pink Lulus from Sares. I am supposed to deliver these to the female delinquent.”
Burke looked at his helmet, read out, and said, “Yes, that is confirmed. Burke opened the gate and said, “My wife loves all things pink. Would they grow under tunnel light?”
Lox could not believe he just made it inside the barrier with weapons. The spy in him laughed at the lax security and the stupid police man, but his Lox Marshall identity had become way more than just a disguise and a cover. He began to think like a Union citizen and he felt sorry for betraying the police man who was a good neighbor and had invited him to BBQ’s more than once. He could have become friends with the officer. Marshall was after all well respected and had a solid clientele who would never order anything plant related from GalNet and always come to him. He answered with a guilty conscience. “I don’t think they would, they are expensive for a reason and grow only on Sares Planets as far as I know.”
Burke tried to shrug inside the armor and pointed with his chin towards a black limo landing on the other side of the scaffold. “There they come, the slaughterers. It can’t be long now and the circus will start.”
Hoods
Our flier landed before the scaffold in the now crowded park and Dawn said. “You know everything you have to do, right?”
“Yes, I think I got it. After the guards have placed the prisoners, I go down the line and place the hoods over their heads. You go after me and set the noose. Then I proceed to the other end and you go down to the panel and press the button after the Chief Justice has made his final speech. I then throw up preferably inside the dress. You wait till they are dead, release their bodies, and we can go.”
She nodded. “Yes, that is it. Are you ready?”
“I don’t think I have a choice, so yes, I am.”
We left the flier, and I followed her through a gate in the barrier opened by a police man and up the stairs of the scaffold. From up there, I could see that the park and the surrounding buildings were full of people, both human and not. I had never seen so many people in one place, and they all stared at me, at least so it appeared to me. I wondered why so many would get up so early to see someone die, especially disturbing were the media crowd. Between two buildings in the distance, a big field screen flickered into existence and showed a close-up of the scaffold and us.
Lox
Lox watched the dark-red robed executioners getting out of the limo. He said to Burke, “Those are women.”
The police man tried to nod.“Looks like it, they must have ice in their veins. To be honest, Lox, I could not do it. I don’t think I could kill anyone in cold blood like this.”
Both Executioners walked close by, and the Kermac spy could only see their eyes for a moment before they mounted the stairs. He shivered involuntarily and actually, for the first time in his life, prayed and hoped there really was a Whispering Spirit. Then he said, “You are a police man. You carry a gun.”
“I never raised my blaster against anyone in anger. I am a police man, not a soldier. I don’t mind using my fists, the shock baton, or restraining fields, and that’s all we ever have to do here on Corri-Door. That poison murderess is the first capital crime we had in years and in the entire system, and she didn’t resist arrest. Oh, I am all for capital punishment, don’t get me wrong. There are over 7 million permanent residents living in this system and lots of traffic coming through, and we have very little capital crimes, so the idea behind it seems to work fine. I think that criminal Saresii mind bender sure earned his sentence, and I have no patience for Califerm dealers, but I am not so sure the Dai deserve it.”
He holstered his Shock baton and whispered, “I just think they should do it in a little chamber away from this entire county fair atmosphere. I know they voted it in, and even my lovely, peaceful wife has voted for it, and she had herself a spot reserved right over there on River’s Roof. I bet she and her friends are sitting up there right now waiting for the hanging.”
Hoods
Now a dark blue police van with a hover bike escort and a platoon of Marines in destroyer suits behind it landed. It was the prisoners. Police men and robots dragged twenty shackled individuals up the steps.
The Califerm thief struggled against the police men’s grip; the woman’s feet collapsed as she went up the stairs. The crowd had hollered obscenities at the Dai, but now a hushed silence had taken hold, except for the murmured comments of the news casters; it was eerily quiet.
I noticed a civilian holding a big bunch of flowers right next to a police officer in crowd control gear talking to each other, and Dawn said, “That is just a local flower dealer. The woman requested flowers in the last minute, and I allowed it.”
Chief Justice V’Thensnhk
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