Chapter 2

"I guess you had a rough trip, Mr. Roaniki," the man said from behind his desk. Qi shuddered because the man looked like he belonged on the cover of Corporate Executive Zine and Letter. The blond hair, in a perfect, layered cut high above the ears, matched the genuinely insincere smile and the strong cleft chin.

Qi wondered how much that surgery cost but he dropped the stray tangent immediately. He needed to focus. The man and his immaculate office had all of his internal alarms sounding. Real offices were messy and good managers were less ... It took Qi a moment to find the word, vain. He had encountered this type many times. Qi had no doubt he faced a man with deep political ambitions and Qi was one of his tools now.

If Qi could have fired the client, he would have done it immediately. A moment exists before the contractor is ensnared by confidential information and that last instant is a failsafe. However, with armed guards outside the door and Mr. Immaculate across the plaswood expanse of desk, he knew he was between a rock and a hard place. He had no failsafe.

Qi chose his first question carefully. "What's the emergency?"

"Emergency? Did anyone say anything to you about an emergency?" The man asked with a wee bit too much concern. Qi noted the emphasis but he was also trying to remember the man's name. Was it Kirk?

"Kirk, no one... ,"

Qi was interrupted. "The name is Kern, K-e-r-n. Kern D'moyroni."

"Excuse me, Ke-ern, but no one shanghais a troubleshooter and sends him halfway across human space unless there is a significant problem," Qi said.

"No one shanghaied you, Mr. Roaniki, and I resent any implication against TSC for illegal activity," Mr. D'moyroni said with feigned hurt in his voice. "If you read your contract, there is a clause specifically stating that TSC has the right to recall you to any necessary locale."

Qi registered the falseness and knew categorically that he faced one of the "Good Children" of human space. Kern De Moron was born, raised, and sculpted for his corporate position in life, Qi decided. How glorious it must be to rise as a manager of an isolated warehouse buried in the bowels of mega-corporation's storage sites.

"Yeah," Qi said, with an unmasked weariness. "I'm sure there is a clause, and it is vague enough and broad enough to be open to all sorts of interpretation. However, you're avoiding my question. You've got two guards outside the door and I'm obviously not leaving. Just get to the point, please."

"Well, I had hoped to start off on a better foot," the man began but stopped when he saw Qi's eyes narrow.

"I can vomit right here or I can hold it for about five minutes, maybe," Qi said.

Kern relented. "Critical items are missing and the man I'm replacing has been arrested and already convicted despite his protests of innocence. The parts could not have left the complex but we can't find them. There must be a malf in the database and inventory systems that we cannot locate. We need you to find the missing items and restore our systems."

"Fine," Qi said, relieved that the job was a clean one. "I need a toilet, a bed and sleep – in that order. I'll start first thing after I wake up." He rose to leave without waiting for a reply.

When Qi awoke, the first thing he saw was a hand comp with the letters TSC etched in the top. His morning mood turned instantly sour and he hadn't even pissed yet. At least the station clothes were his size and they had given him boots instead of those stupid slippers that the well-to-do and their unthinking imitators preferred.

The food wasn't bad even if the company stank. He was fairly certain that the word "Contractor" wasn't stamped across the back of his shoulders but everyone in the room seemed to treat him as if he did. Never having done a stint in the deep holds of a major corporation, Qi had no idea how the employees acted. Was this a punishment site for them or an unpleasant but necessary step for advancement? He wished they would take their attitudes and stuff it back up their anal orifices.

Qi was in a lovely mood.

His comp guided him to his assigned office, where he found a comfortable chair, a long desk and a major piece of comp equipment. He queried the system and found 6 heptillion (1024) worth of 'pute power available to him. He sat back in his chair in amazement.

"What the fuck do they have here?" he asked the screen in front of him as he tapped the data inputs. "Starship fusion cores?"

He called up an inventory search. "Beat me with an electron whip and send me home to momma!" They had them; they had three versions of them. Qi didn't have the list of stolen items yet but he now understood just how upset the director of the Leonides Complex might be with this type of inventory missing. None of the items on his screen could be carried out in someone's duffle or pocket.

His computer rang. It actually rang like a telephone on Earth in a B movie. The letter "A" flashed on his screen. Having no other clue of what to do, Qi tapped the A key on the board. A digital feed took over his screen and the big head of Kern floated in the middle.

"It's halfway through the first shift," Kern said with great seriousness. "You are just logging on now?"

Qi just looked back at him, speechless.

"You may be used to setting your own hours where you come from but, things are run differently here," he continued. "You are expected to be up and running at the beginning of the first shift."

"Ye-ah," Qi managed to say. "I don't work for you. I'm a contractor dragged here unbeknownst to him because you can't do the fucking job yourself. Back off."

"TSC doesn't tolerate foul language during official communications, Mr. Roaniki," Kern said.

"So, don't use any," Qi said. "In the meantime, get me a fucking tour with your goddamn security, so they can prove to me why no one could fucking lift major components from your facilities and take them offsite."

Qi hit the "A" button again and the screen returned to his previous query. He finally found the list of missing components. Qi let out a whistle. He pasted the list to a new screen, and began going through each item to search for its dimensions and weight. The quantity of the list boggled his mind. After he added up all of the numbers, the sheer impossibility of getting all of this stuff out of the shipyard and onto one massive transport became all the more clear.

"Someone is fucked," Qi said. "Some ones," he corrected himself.

He saved his calculations and put them aside. His next search was for the files of the previous search team or teams. The reports were hundreds of pages long and none of them appeared to have a summary. They had appendixes although he couldn't understand why a failed report needed extra crap attached to it.

He was debating whether to actually open the document when a knock sounded at the door. He had barely turned his head when the door opened and a perky young woman stepped inside. Her smile was perky, her cheery "hello" was perky, and even her breasts were up high and saluting. Her blouse, ending just above her navel, tantalized him.

"Hello?" Qi said, not entirely trusting this strange simulation of a real person standing in his doorway.

"I'm DeeDee," she said. "I'm your fitness instructor and it's time for your workout."