{"id":247,"date":"2017-08-05T10:55:34","date_gmt":"2017-08-05T14:55:34","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/allen-wold.com\/?page_id=247"},"modified":"2024-02-10T08:34:36","modified_gmt":"2024-02-10T13:34:36","slug":"jewels-of-the-dragon-sample","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/allen-wold.com\/?page_id=247","title":{"rendered":"Jewels of the Dragon sample"},"content":{"rendered":"

Part One<\/strong><\/p>\n

1.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Kohltri was a lonely planet, the only one orbiting its sun, and far from the rest of the Federation, of which it was a member.<\/p>\n

Across the Federation from Kohltri were the Crescent Cluster, the Anarchy of Raas, the Abogarn Hegemony, and other political entities spanning dozens or hundreds of inhabited star systems. But on this side there were only the great reaches between this spiral arm of the galaxy and the next. Not truly empty, but there were too few stars and those too far apart to entice expansion. \u00b7<\/p>\n

Kohltri Station, as a consequence, was small. It circled the planet in geostationary orbit 33,000 kilometers above the surface. Its hundred thousand people administered the planet and its commerce, or provided services for the administrators. Station time was set to the surface immediately below it. When the station passed into Kohltri\u2019s shadow, it was night.<\/p>\n

Now it was nearly noon. Rikard Braeth, twenty-six in Earth years, stood at the door to the station director\u2019s office. He was very tall, very slender, and moved with a grace that sometimes made him seem lazy. His skin was dark, his hair black and rather unruly. He was not handsome, and his clothes, once good, were now old.<\/p>\n

After the briefest of pauses, he reached out and touched the latch plate beside the door. The door slid open and he went in.<\/p>\n

The office was not large. In the middle stood a small, immaculate desk behind which sat the Director, head bent over the several screens embedded in the desk\u2019s surface. According to the brass plate at the front of the desk, the Director\u2019s name was Anton Solvay.<\/p>\n

On the wall behind Solvay were framed credentials and certificates. The entire left wall of the office was a huge window, showing the deeps of space outside the station. The limb of the galaxy cut a messy diagonal across one corner. On the right wall communications equipment and reference shelves bracketed a private door.<\/p>\n

Solvay punched a few buttons, some screens cleared, and only then did he look up. He was a compact man, slightly balding, and somewhere in his fifties \u2014 still young, given a life span of about two hundred years. He rose to his feet and extended his right hand. He was fully a head shorter than Rikard.<\/p>\n

\u201cMsr. Braeth,\u201d he said as he shook Rikard\u2019s hand. \u201cWelcome to Kohltri Station.\u201d He waved his hand toward one of the two chairs in front of his desk, an invitation to sit. \u201cWhat can I do for you?\u2019\u2018<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s just a small matter,\u201d Rikard said, taking a seat. \u201cI\u2019m sorry to trouble you about it, but I don\u2019t know who else to ask. I need to go down to the surface of Kohltri, and I haven\u2019t been able to find out how to do that.\u201d<\/p>\n

Solvay sat back, a look of mild surprise on his face. \u201cWhy in heaven\u2019s name would you want to go down to the surface?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m looking for my father. I\u2019ve traced his movements all the way from Pelgrane to here. It\u2019s taken me two years.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you think he went to the surface?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI do. My father was very methodical. On every one of the sixty or so worlds I\u2019ve tracked him through, his pattern was always the same. He\u2019d come to a world, visit the University Central if there was one, the major museums, and so on, and always the Mines and Minerals Reclamation office. And since the Mines office is on the surface, that\u2019s where my father would have gone after he\u2019d finished up here.\u201d<\/p>\n

Solvay drummed his fingers lightly on the desk. \u201cExactly when was this?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cRather a long time ago, I\u2019m afraid. My father left home thirteen years ago. Your records show he arrived here about two years later.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you were able to follow him here after waiting eleven years? Remarkable. But records like that are not generally available for public inspection. What authority do you have to search them?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m a Local Historian, accredited by the University of Pelgrane. Getting my degree was part of the reason that it took me so long to start looking for my father.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI see. And you found a record of your father on a shuttle list?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, but then I haven\u2019t found any record of his departure, death, or naturalization either. And he always visited the Mines offices. The surface is the only place he could have gone.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI see.\u201d For some reason Solvay did not seem very pleased. \u201cThat is certainly a reasonable conclusion. I wish I could help you, but I can\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIn that case,\u201d Rikard said, \u201ccould you tell me who can? I\u2019m willing to pay for a special shuttle trip, if that\u2019s necessary.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d Solvay said, \u201cI mean you can\u2019t go to the surface.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy not?\u201d Rikard made sure his voice revealed no emotion other than simple curiosity.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t have the proper clearances.\u201d<\/p>\n

Rikard sighed. This was not the first time he\u2019d had to deal with the vagaries of a bureaucracy. He took his wallet from his inside jacket pocket, took out his Historian\u2019s Accreditation Card, and handed it to the Director. That card had gotten him into a lot of places other people didn\u2019t think he had any right to. Solvay looked over the card, examined the holographic representations, dropped it on the ID plate on his desk to check the readout.<\/p>\n

\u201cI hope,\u201d Rikard said, \u201cthat that will prove satisfactory.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sure that it would almost anywhere but here.\u201d Solvay handed back the card. \u201cYou are free, of course, to examine any records that are not restricted by law, but I cannot let you go down.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t understand,\u201d Rikard said as he put bis card away. \u201cKohltri is not on any of the military registers. Why can\u2019t I go to the surface?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI am not at liberty to tell you that. The very fact that you don\u2019t know why you can\u2019t go down is proof that you have no business on Kohltri. If you want to go to the surface, you\u2019ll have to get authorization elsewhere.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAh, all right. I think I can still afford a round trip. Where should I go, and what kind of clearances do I need?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAgain, if you don\u2019t already know, then I\u2019m not at liberty to tell you. I\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMsr. Solvay, this doesn\u2019t make any sense. I know that a lot of people come here-\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot a lot, only a couple hundred a year.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u2018\u2018Close to a thousand, according to your own records. And most of those people go to the surface, as far as I can tell.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf they go down, that\u2019s only because they have proper clearance.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t see anything about any clearance in the records.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course you didn\u2019t; you weren\u2019t supposed to. It\u2019s not good security to label secret things as secret.\u201d<\/p>\n

Rikard felt his frustration rise. This conversation wasn\u2019t getting him anywhere. He decided to try another track.<\/p>\n

\u201cKohltri,\u201d he said, \u201cis a mining world, as I understand it!\u2019<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, it is.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe records aren\u2019t always very clear on just what is mined here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s true. Look, we\u2019re a long way off from the next nearest system. That means we\u2019re vulnerable to certain kinds of industrial espionage. We keep a low profile, in large part as a matter of self-defense. I can\u2019t tell you anything more than that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou mean to say that the ores you mine here are classified information?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve see the records, apparently.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSome of them,\u201d Rikard said, \u201cyes. Does it matter that I have absolutely no interest in your mines?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNone at all. I\u2019m sorry.\u201d Solvay got to his feet, indicating that the interview was over.<\/p>\n

\u201cI am too,\u201d Rikard said, also rising.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf there\u2019s anything else … \u201d Solvay suggested, extending his hand again.<\/p>\n

\u201cNothing right now.\u201d Rikard shook Solvay\u2019s hand out of courtesy. He turned and went out of the office. He went through the outer offices of the administrative section and out into the corridors of the main part of the station.<\/p>\n

\u201cDamn,\u201d he muttered to himself. He could feel his face getting hot, and the sound of his teeth grating was loud in his ears. He knew about security, what files were classified and what weren\u2019t. Nothing he\u2019d looked at had any restrictions at all.<\/p>\n

He saw someone staring at him in alarm, and others moving discreetly to the side of the corridor. Very deliberately, he made his face bland and tried to suppress bis frustration and anger.<\/p>\n

2.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Rikard wanted to get as far away from Solvay\u2019s office as possible. He walked along the corridors of the station with that intent, heading for the far end. As be walked, he worked to put Solvay from his mind, to make himself feel as calm as he now looked. But as his composure returned, he became aware that the scar on the palm of his right hand was itching. He tried not to scratch.<\/p>\n

He ignored the other people in the corridors, and they mostly ignored him, though a person as tall as he was always drew some attention. He managed to ignore his thoughts of Solvay as well, but now the tingling in his palm became stronger. However calm he\u2019d made his surface, he was still suffering from internal stress and tension.<\/p>\n

That was when the scar itched. It wasn\u2019t much to see, just a slightly irregular line from his ring finger to the base of his thumb. Thinking about it now made the itching almost painful. Gently, he rubbed it with the thumb of his left hand.<\/p>\n

He hated to yield, because rubbing or scratching the scar produced a strange secondary effect, bringing a momentary impression of concentric circles swimming in his eyes.<\/p>\n

The image never came when be was calm, no matter what work he was doing with his hands. Only when he was angry did the scar itch, and only when he scratched the itch did the rings appear \u2014 a visual and mental distraction. They were as hard to see as the motes in his eye, circling the center of his field of vision. If he tried to focus on the rings, they shifted and faded.<\/p>\n

This time the circles were so strong that he knew his inner turmoil was only barely controlled. And the visual illusion and the itching scar were not helping him calm himself. After all, the cause of his frustration and the cause of the scar were the same. It was his father he was looking for and it was his father who had given him the scar with its phantom rings in the first place.<\/p>\n

Back on Pelgrane, when he was just ten years old, his father took him to a clinic and paid a lot of money for an unusual operation, then paid a lot more to keep the fact of the operation discreet. The surgeons had implanted a small device in Rikard\u2019s palm, a device his father had found somewhere, that was somehow supposed to have given Rikard better than average skills with a gun. Guns had been his father\u2019s one indulgence, the only thing, Rikard now knew, that he had retained from his life before Pelgrane.<\/p>\n

The device in his palm was connected by artificial nerves running up his arm directly to the visual centers of his brain where it caused the images of circles. But it didn\u2019t seem to work otherwise; Rikard had no special advantage as a marksman. The surgeons had checked the medical aspects of the operation, but the device itself was strange to them. Even his father had not fully understood the mechanism and had been sorely disappointed by the apparent failure of the costly operation.<\/p>\n

In later years, after his father abandoned his family, Rikard had grown to hate the scar for what it represented. For a while he had contemplated having the device removed, but he hadn\u2019t had the money then. Later, when he could afford it, he\u2019d decided he had better things to do with the money. And so the device, the scar, and the circles remained.<\/p>\n

Now those circles added to his anger, undermined his attempts to calm himself. He clenched his hand and stuffed it in his pocket. Let it itch; he wouldn\u2019t scratch, and then maybe he could calm down.<\/p>\n

He walked through the middle levels of the station, the residential levels. Science was \u201cabove,\u201d industry and service \u201cbelow.\u201d There were more people than when he\u2019d gone to the Director\u2019s office. It must be the local lunchtime.<\/p>\n

His stomach confirmed that, even as he checked his watch. He could eat at his hostel, but then he would be alone with his thoughts, and he didn\u2019t want that. Instead he walked on to the far end of the station, to the clubs, shops and recreation areas.<\/p>\n

He wandered off the main ways, looking for something suited to his mood, until he noticed the marquee of a tavern situated up a side corridor. A couple of beers, he thought, were just what he wanted right now. He went to the tavern door and stepped inside.<\/p>\n

It was not as dim as many such places, and fortunately also served sandwiches. Most of the customers were seated at the few small tables between the bar and the booths against the window wall. Through the window Rikard could see the black velvet of space, the stars above and below. From this part of the station he could even see a bit of the planet.<\/p>\n

He\u2019d come here for company, so he looked around for someone on whom he could impose, and was pleased to notice a man whom he\u2019d seen several times during the last few days. A familiar face might be more willing to put up with an unexpected lunch partner than a total stranger would be, so Rikard went up to introduce himself.<\/p>\n

The man watched Rikard approach. He was a few years older than Rikard but looked as if he\u2019d seen a lot more of the world. He was handsome in the way that Rikard had admired as a kid, the way he\u2019d futilely hoped he\u2019d look. Rikard stopped by the empty chair across from the man and smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ve not met,\u201d Rikard said by way of greeting, \u201cbut I\u2019ve seen you in the records office several times, haven\u2019t I?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou have indeed,\u201d the man said. He seemed rather reserved, but did not object to Rikard\u2019s presence.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you mind if I join you?\u201d Rikard asked. \u201cI\u2019m tired of eating alone.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBy all means,\u201d the man said, rising to his feet. He was as tall as Rikard but muscular instead of slender. He extended bis hand toward the empty chair in a gesture of hospitality. \u201cPlease sit down.\u201d His tone and words were polite, but there was an underlying tension Rikard had noticed before.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not intruding, am I?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot at all. I\u2019m Leonid Polski.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRikard Braeth,\u201d Rikard said, shaking his hand.<\/p>\n

When he sat, the table flipped up its menu. Rikard punched in his selection and credit ID, and the menu slid down. Immediately, the service slot in the tabletop slid open and his sandwich and a pitcher of beer came up.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou must be new to Kobltri Station,\u201d Polski said. Though he seemed friendly, Rikard got the impression that he was never truly relaxed.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve only been here three days,\u201d Rikard admitted. He poured beer into his glass and offered to refill Polski \u2018s.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo thanks,\u201d Polski said. \u201cWhat brings you to an out-of-the-way place like this?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m trying to find my father. I\u2019m pretty sure he went down to the surface shortly after he got here eleven years ago, but the station director refuses to let me go down to see for myself.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s strange. Did he say why?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, and that\u2019s what\u2019s so infuriating. Here I\u2019ve come almost all the way across the Federation, and I know the end of the trail is down on the surface, and now I\u2019m blocked.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat would be rather frustrating, I imagine.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTo say the least. Solvay says I don\u2019t have the right clearances, and then won\u2019t tell me what those are or how to get them. Would you know anything about that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry,\u201d Polski said with a slight smile. \u201cI\u2019ve only been here nine days myself.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you going to be working here?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m afraid I can\u2019t talk about it,\u201d Polski said. He took his wallet out of his jacket pocket, flipped it open, and showed Rikard the badge of a Federal Police Officer. He held the rank of colonel, and an attached emblem identified him as a special investigator.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust forget I asked,\u201d Rikard said. \u201cBut I\u2019ll bet Director Solvay doesn\u2019t treat you the way he does me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Polski put the wallet away. \u201cI don\u2019t have any problems with him,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

Rikard concentrated on bis sandwich for a moment. \u201cIf it\u2019s not prying,\u201d he said, \u201ccan you tell me anything about these clearances Solvay mentioned?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI really don\u2019t know anything about them.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI just thought that as a police officer … Oh, well, I\u2019ll figure something out.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cForgive my curiosity,\u201d Polski said, \u201cbut are you by any chance related to Arin Braeth?\u201d<\/p>\n

Rikard put down his sandwich, suddenly wary. \u201cHe\u2019s my father,\u201d he said. \u201cAre you looking for him too?\u2019\u2018<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d Polski said with another soft smile. \u201cNo, it\u2019s just that I studied your father at the Academy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy father went out of circulation thirty years ago.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know, dropped completely out of sight, no clue or word of him since.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd yet you studied him at the Academy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHim and others like him, though Arin Braeth was always my favorite.\u201d<\/p>\n

Rikard kept bis voice calm and even. \u201cYou know,\u201d he said, \u201cas a kid I never really knew what my father did before he met my mother. It wasn\u2019t until I went out exploiting, to pay my way through the university, that I ever heard anything about his past. Since then, I\u2019ve heard people call him all kinds of things. But to me he was just my father, even if I didn\u2019t always understand him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou said he left home more than eleven years ago? You must have been quite young then.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was my thirteenth birthday.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot a very pleasant birthday present, I imagine.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d He finished his beer and poured another glass. \u201cThe money had run out. And he didn\u2019t like being poor. He told my mother he was going to try to make one more score \u2014 I didn\u2019t know what that meant then \u2014 but he never came back.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you think he\u2019s here now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe I don\u2019t, after all.\u201d<\/p>\n

Polski considered him a moment. \u201cRikard,\u201d he said, \u201cI\u2019m not after your father. As far as I know, nobody is any more. And even if they found him here, there\u2019s nothing anybody could do about it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI guess after thirty years the statute of limitations does run out.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOn most things, yes. Not on someone like the Man Who Killed Banatree, of course. But that\u2019s not the point. In spite of all the stories about him, your father was never indicted for anything. There\u2019s no doubt in my mind that he did the things he\u2019s credited with, at least most of them. We\u2019re also sure he did other things we know nothing about and may be responsible for things with which he\u2019s not been connected. But the thing that makes Arin Braeth so special, the reason he\u2019s the subject of an entire semester\u2019s course, is that there is not one shred of evidence against him. And without that, who\u2019s to make an arrest?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou almost sound as if you admire him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI do. In a way. We\u2019re sure he was responsible for some of the most daring crimes and exploits of the last two hundred years. Your father was known as a pirate, among other things, feared through half the Federation. His reputation extended into the Crescent Cluster, and even the Abogarn Hegemony. And yet, there was never any proof. Was he, or wasn\u2019t he, the man of the legends? If he was, how did he get away with it? If he wasn\u2019t, how did he get such a reputation?\u201d<\/p>\n

Rikard smiled sardonically. \u201cFather didn\u2019t let me in on any of his secrets.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u2018\u2018To have gotten away as clean as he did, whatever the truth, he couldn\u2019t have trusted anybody. Not even your mother, I\u2019ll bet.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe trusted her with everything except the details of his past. As far as I know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe knew what kind of man he was?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, yes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe must be quite a woman to have made him change his ways so radically.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe was. She died three years after he ran off. It broke her heart.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry. You hate him for that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot as much as I used to.\u201d He picked up his sandwich and had another bite. \u201cI\u2019m older now. I have a better perspective. Whatever anybody says about him, whatever the truth may be, when I knew him he was just a fine man, a fine father. He was well liked on Pelgrane, served several times on our city council, and had lots of friends who stuck with him even after the money ran out. But that wasn\u2019t enough for him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd now you\u2019ve come looking for him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI want to find out what happened, why he didn\u2019t come back. I suspect that he died down there on Kohltri. I just want to know for sure, find his grave if I can. I wish I could make Solvay understand that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAs I remember the story, just before he disappeared, he rescued the Lady Sigra Malvrone from one of the most hideous kidnapping and extortion rings in existence.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe Lady Sigra was my mother. Her father, Lord Malvrone, knew about my father and hired him to get my mother away from the kidnappers. When Father brought her back, Lord Malvrone refused to pay. Just shut Father out completely.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat he didn\u2019t figure on was that my parents had fallen in love, and Mother just decided to hell with her family and went off with my father. They had enough money between them so that my father could retire. Until his investments went wrong, we lived just like any other middle-class family. My mother gave up her past too.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo what are you going to do now?\u201d Polski asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not sure, but I haven\u2019t exhausted the records office yet. Right now I\u2019m going to finish this beer, maybe have another, take a long nap, and then do a little more research, just to see what I can dig up.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t dig up any trouble,\u201d Polski said.<\/p>\n

3.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Kohltri Station, as small as it was, did not have to operate around the clock. Rikard waited until the night shift was two hours old, with only a skeleton staff on duty, before returning to the records office. Though he preferred not to do anything illegal, he didn\u2019t want to be observed should the necessity present itself. As a Historian, he had every right to make use of the facilities, even at this hour, but he would not let any mere legality impede him if he found something interesting.<\/p>\n

The offices were locked at this hour, but his authorization card unlocked the door without a hitch. The place was half dark, which meant there was no staff present to glance casually over his shoulder at the readout screens.<\/p>\n

He walked through the outer offices, past the cubicles used by government workers, and into the hall of regular consoles. He looked into every room, even the closets and restrooms. That, he now knew, was what his father would have done. When he was sure there really was nobody else in the office complex, he went back to the main hall and took the console farthest from the door. It was in a comer where, by turning his head, he could see the whole room. That, too, was what his father would have done.<\/p>\n

Rikard knew very little about Kohltri other than that it was one of those places where all or most of the business was done on the station. The planet itself merely provided raw materials. In this case those were ores rather than woods, fibers, organics, spices, or whatever. He called up the index, scanned it quickly, and chose a recent report on the planet\u2019s nature and resources.<\/p>\n

There was only one city, just called Kohltri, directly below the station, population not specified. There were mines whose products he did not recognize. There were imports of equipment, much of it unspecified or identified in code. The main export was refined ore. All the references were unusually cryptic, and he wasn\u2019t much interested in mines. But this was a good set of files to revert to if someone should come in. He precoded a call so that he could switch in a hurry if he had to.<\/p>\n

Once again he examined the records of his father\u2019s arrival and residency. This time he compared them with his own similar records and with those of other visitors at various times during the last twenty years. He was looking for any code or sign that distinguished either his father or himself from the people who had gone down to the surface. He could find none, no clue as to who had clearance or what clearance was.<\/p>\n

The records of interstellar movement of people and goods were remarkably thorough \u2014 if sometimes cryptic, obscured by bureaucracy, blurred by time, and full of jargon. They hinted at unusual things about business transactions between Kohltri Station, the surface, and other worlds, though only a Historian would notice. Every world had its irregularities, but he wasn\u2019t interested in them at the moment. He skimmed through the records, then called for the lists of those who had departed Kohltri for other systems.<\/p>\n

A message appeared on the screen, asking for his authorization code. He keyed in his Historian\u2019s registration and was immediately given access.<\/p>\n

The lists up through this very day produced no evidence that his father had ever left the Kohltri system. He closed that file and opened another. It came on-line without a pause.<\/p>\n

And it told him that at no time, from the moment of his father\u2019s arrival up to this afternoon, had he or anybody Rikard could identify as him applied for or been given permanent residence on the station. That was an unlikely possibility, but it closed another loophole. There was just one other major file to double-check. He called it up.<\/p>\n

The death records were similarly complete. Rikard\u2019s father had not died on the station. A quick scan of a related file showed also that he had not been arrested. Rikard closed that file too and sat staring at the prompt on the screen.<\/p>\n

The records of bis father\u2019s two-year trip across the Federation had revealed very little about what he had been looking for. That it could make him rich, Rikard had no doubt, and if his father had found it, Rikard wanted his share. His father, alive or dead, owed it to him.<\/p>\n

He bad only one thing to go on: wherever his father had gone, whatever other offices he might have visited, he had always checked with the Mines and Minerals Reclamation office. Rikard had seen the record of his father\u2019s inquiry about the Mines office here, but that was on the surface.<\/p>\n

Arin Braeth would not have left Kohltri without going down to the surface to investigate it in person. If Rikard could have followed, he wouldn\u2019t have to be doing what he was doing now.<\/p>\n

He queried the computer for the records of the shuttle flights; they had to contain the information he needed. Once again he had to post his authorization. As before, access was immediately granted.<\/p>\n

At first this list seemed just the same as the others, but as he read through it, be saw that it was in fact quite different. A few of the passengers to the surface were identified as government officials with specified business. A few others were coded, obviously for security reasons. All these showed a cross-reference to a list of people returning from the surface.<\/p>\n

But they were the minority. Most of the shuttle passengers appeared to have come from other systems rather than from the station population, but they had no return-entry reference. Neither did their names appear on the list of those who had come from other systems. The two lists did not correspond.<\/p>\n

Far more people went down than came up, and those few who did return to the station from the surface, aside from official and coded passengers. were not the same as those who had gone down in the first place.<\/p>\n

These anomalies didn\u2019t help him with his original problem, though. There was nothing in any of the records to indicate who had clearance or what it was.<\/p>\n

Within twenty-four hours after Rikard\u2019s father had checked out of his hostel, six people had gone to the surface. None was listed as Arin Braeth. He could have assumed a false identity, but it would have been for the first time since leaving Pelgrane.<\/p>\n

Just to see what he might turn up, Rikard made a copy file of those six people, including all codes, abbreviated references, and data keys, then exited the shuttle file and set up a larger search among all the other files he had examined, hoping to shake out a pattern. These six people must have had that mysterious clearance, and if Rikard could learn what it meant in their cases, he might be able to fake clearance for himself. With or without Solvay\u2019s knowledge or approval.<\/p>\n

Before the search could produce anything. several messages flashed on the screen simultaneously. The search could not continue without entry into other files, restricted files.<\/p>\n

He sat back to think for a minute. So far everything he\u2019d done had been perfectly proper and legal. This was as far as his certificate entitled him to go. But he was too close to quit now.<\/p>\n

His specialty at the university had been research methods and his greatest interest was accessing ancient or faulty files \u2014 or secured files. He had gone beyond the curriculum, using the questionable methods he developed to discover still others. Now, perhaps, was the time to use his bag of dirty tricks in earnest. If he was careful, if he still had the knack, no one would ever know that he\u2019d broken the station\u2019s security.<\/p>\n

He keyed in a request to access one of the restricted files, one he hoped would tell him more about those six people eleven years ago. As expected, he got a message asking for his secunty code. Just to test it, he tried his Historian\u2019s registration. It didn\u2019t work. Then he started using his unorthodox tricks. It was like sneaking in the back door, finding a path that was bizarre enough to be unguarded. After several sideways movements and subtly off-key requests, he was into the restricted files. That was what he liked.<\/p>\n

The list was more or less as he had expected, with entries for his six people, but he could make little sense of the rest of it. There were numerous cross-references, but whether they were to people, places, products, or events he could not tell. Still, in what he could understand, there was nothing to make him believe that any of the six was his father.<\/p>\n

He requested a similar file for the following day and was not asked again for a security code. This file was like the first and contained nothing more intelligible or interesting. He checked the next three days and still learned nothing. On a hunch he tried the previous day. Nothing.<\/p>\n

He worked his way into one of the other restricted files, one concerning people coming up from the surface. It was just as cryptic, mysterious, and confusing as the first. No clues.<\/p>\n

He tried another sequence of files, reporting on shipments of goods from the station to the surface. One of them seemed to list ground transport vehicles, with some references which made little sense, apparently for secondhand vehicles but with price differentials that were completely out of line, even for a government contract. And the credit accounts were not in the form of the government codes he was familiar with.<\/p>\n

Something called \u201cbalktapline\u201d was mentioned once or twice. The entries, with the transporter given a code instead of a name, the lack of any destination, and price or value being in another code, suggested that it was some kind of contraband, maybe narcotics, black-market items, or locally illegal products.<\/p>\n

That was none of bis business, but if Solvay\u2019s clearances had to do with smuggling, it was no wonder that he didn\u2019t want Rikard going down to the surface where he could learn more. Rikard found the thought amusing. Solvay had nothing to fear from him; it was Leonid Polski who was the threat. Was that why Polski was here? Rikard didn\u2019t really care.<\/p>\n

He skimmed through a few other files, but could make no more sense of any of them. There were shipping lists, passenger lists, and sometimes hints of transport to and from the surface that did not go through the station. The entries were obscure, partly in code, and with the cryptic cross-references that were now becoming familiar. There was plenty of material to look through, but the night shift was running out. He\u2019d have to quit soon and plan to come back later.<\/p>\n

He was not so completely absorbed in his work that he did not hear an outer office door opening. He listened for a moment, his fingers above the keyboard. There was a pause, then he heard the door close softly. Whoever was there had not meant him to hear.<\/p>\n

He cleared the screen and called up the public files he\u2019d set up for cover, the ones concerning Kohltri\u2019s production and shipping of ores. He heard a soft footstep at the door to the console hall. He called up reference material on the kinds of ores Kohltri produced. The door opened, but he did not look up from the screen. Instead he pretended to be absorbed in the document, though the words went right through his consciousness without stopping.<\/p>\n

From the comer of his eye, he could see a woman standing in the doorway, watching him. He took his hands from the keyboard, leaned back, and continued to read. When she started to come toward him, he looked up, carefully feigning mild surprise.<\/p>\n

The woman was maybe forty, well built, good-looking, dressed in blouse and slacks. But she had a hard face and a stiff tension that reminded Rikard of Leonid Polski, though somehow she was harder and colder.<\/p>\n

She walked right toward him. Rikard watched her, not touching the keyboard. She would be able to see clearly that it showed a perfectly innocent file.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re Rikard Braeth?\u201d she said, not really a question.<\/p>\n

Her voice was mellow but emotionless, her face expressionless; her eyes revealed nothing.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, I am,\u201d Rikard said through a long and very real yawn.<\/p>\n

\u201cUp kind of late, aren\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI couldn\u2019t sleep. I thought I might as well find out a little more about Kohltri \u2018s mines.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIndeed. Someone\u2019s been looking into restricted files. That wouldn\u2019t be you, would it?\u201d<\/p>\n

Rikard pushed his chair back. \u201cLook for yourself,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

She didn\u2019t bother to look at the screen, just kept her eyes fixed on him. Rikard affected an expression of puzzlement and offended innocence.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou switched files,\u201d she said, \u201cjust as soon as I entered the outer office. You\u2019re pretty good.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know what you\u2019re talking about.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course you do. But it doesn\u2019t matter. Director Solvay wants to see you, right now.\u201d<\/p>\n

Rikard fought to control his tension. \u201cWhat if I don\u2019t want to see him?\u2019\u2018 he asked.<\/p>\n

She moved her right hand behind her to the small of her back. \u201cThen I\u2019ll have to carry you,\u201d she said, and brought her hand back into view. She held the conical spindle shape of a police jolter.<\/p>\n

Rikard stared at it for a moment. \u201cI\u2019d rather walk.\u201d<\/p>\n

4.<\/strong><\/p>\n

The corridors of the station were empty. The woman walked a little behind Rikard and to his left, giving him no chance to get away or attack her. She didn\u2019t say anything, and Rikard didn\u2019t try to question her. Though she wore civilian clothes, she had to be part of the station\u2019s police force. Rikard was sure she could be quite dangerous.<\/p>\n

She did not signal their arrival at the office, just palmed the door open. Inside were two other officers, in local uniform, one on either side of the desk. Their jolters were prominently displayed on hip holsters. As the door slid shut, the woman put hers away and nudged Rikard forward to stand in front of Solvay\u2019s desk, then stepped back out of Rikard\u2019s sight.<\/p>\n

After a moment the private door opened and Anton Solvay came in. He stared at Rikard as he moved to his desk. His face was grim.<\/p>\n

He sat; Rikard remained standing. Solvay said, \u201cYou think you\u2019re pretty clever, don\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Rikard returned the man\u2019s gaze. He kept his anxiety out of his face and said nothing.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou have to be clever,\u201d Solvay went on, \u201cto be able to gain access to restricted files.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI was looking at Kohltri\u2019s history and products files,\u201d Rikard said.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes,\u201d Solvay said, \u201cwhen Msr. Zakroyan walked in on you, but not before. When certain restricted files are accessed, even by me, an alarm sounds and subsequent use of the files is tracked for later audit. So we know damn well what you were looking at in there.\u201d<\/p>\n

Silence was better than a futile denial, but Rikard\u2019s palm started to itch.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat did you think you were going to find out anyway?\u201d Solvay asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cEvidence that my father did in fact go down to the surface eleven years ago.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIn those files? That\u2019s pretty farfetched.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf you\u2019ve tracked my search, you can figure it out for yourself. If my father is on a shuttle list, his name was changed for some reason. I was just trying to identify him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEven though you knew you were intruding on restricted files.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m a Historian. I have the right to research whatever I want.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou do not have the right to go into government files that contain sensitive information.\u201d Solvay\u2019s voice was tight and controlled. \u201cI want to know why you deliberately overrode our file security system.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI thought that I might be able to figure out what it would take to get clearance.\u201d .<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re evading the issue. But then perhaps I should expect that from someone who uses clever tricks to break into restricted files.\u201d<\/p>\n

Once again Rikard felt that silence was his best response. Solvay touched a button on his desk and one of the screens on its surface lit up. He looked at it for a moment.<\/p>\n

\u201cLook,\u201d Rikard said, hoping to distract him, \u201cI\u2019m not interested in anything in those files. I just want to get down to the surface and find my father. You could easily assign me someone from your office to help me. They would see to it that I didn\u2019t get into anything you want kept secret.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEasier for you, perhaps,\u201d Solvay said without looking up.<\/p>\n

\u201cEasier for you too, because if you won\u2019t do that, I\u2019ll be forced to go to Higgins or Kylesplanet and get court orders giving me the power I need to find my father. I have a right to find him, no matter what security you think you need.\u201d<\/p>\n

Solvay looked up sharply. \u201cYou\u2019d do that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDamn right I would. My father is here, and I intend to find him, whether he\u2019s alive or dead.\u201d<\/p>\n

Solvay glanced briefly over Rikard\u2019s shoulder to where Zakroyan stood. \u201cI don\u2019t think it\u2019s a good idea to go quite so far.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s your choice,\u201d Rikard said. \u201cIf you won\u2019t help me, then I\u2019ll leave tomorrow on the first ship to Higgins.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, I don\u2019t think you will. You\u2019re not going to go to Higgins or anywhere else.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow are you going to stop me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cVery simply. I\u2019m going to file charges of espionage, illegal access to restricted files, improper use of authority, and anything else I can think of.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can\u2019t prove anything that will delay me for long.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou forget. You\u2019re not in the heart of the Federation now. Here, I\u2019m the court. No, my friend, I think you\u2019ve just overstepped yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n

The two police officers started paying more attention, and rested their hands on their jolters.<\/p>\n

\u201cI demand to speak to a Federation Police Officer,\u201d Rikard said.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf you can find one,\u201d Solvay said, \u201cgo right ahead.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFine, then please call Colonel Leonid Polski. I don\u2019t know his address, but he arrived here about nine days ago.\u201d<\/p>\n

Rikard\u2019s words took Solvay by surprise. The Director stared at him, then beyond him to Zakroyan. \u201cIs he bluffing?\u201d he asked her.<\/p>\n

Zakroyan came up to stand beside Rikard. \u201cThere is a Leonid Polski registered here,\u201d she said to Solvay. \u201cI wasn\u2019t aware that he was a Federation officer.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, find out, dammit!\u201d<\/p>\n

Zakroyan went to the communicators mounted on the wall beside the desk. She punched a few buttons and a moment later whispered into the wall mike.<\/p>\n

There was a pause. The response, when it came, was tuned so that only she could hear it. She listened, her eyes fixed on Solvay. Then her expression changed slightly and she turned to stare at Rikard. \u201cThanks,\u201d she said to the mike, and turned off the communicator.<\/p>\n

\u201cColonel Polski,\u201d she said to Solvay, \u201cis here under special orders, with complete security.\u201d She turned to Rikard. \u2018\u2018Why is he here, do you suppose?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI have no idea,\u201d Rikard said. \u201cI just met him this afternoon. We had a nice conversation. I\u2019d like to talk to him now, please.\u201d<\/p>\n

Solvay started to say something to Zakroyan, but she held up her hand to silence him, then leaned across the desk to whisper in his ear. Solvay occasionally glanced at Rikard, and Zakroyan looked over her shoulder at him once. The two police officers were fully alert now. They glanced from Zakroyan to Rikard and back, and kept their hands on their jolters.<\/p>\n

Rikard was in far more physical danger than he had expected. He cursed himself silently for his in-caution and indiscretion. He had thought of his search as just a bit of slightly irregular snooping, and he\u2019d been too smug about his cleverness in breaking into the files to watch for hidden alarms. It was not the way his father would have handled the situation. The information in those restricted files must be damaging to Solvay; more than a little petty smuggling, more than Rikard had realized.<\/p>\n

At last Solvay and Zakroyan finished their whispered consultation, and Zakroyan turned around to sit on the edge of Solvay\u2019s desk. They both stared at Rikard.<\/p>\n

Solvay cleared his throat and said, \u201cWell, Msr. Braeth, you wanted to go to the surface. You should be pleased to learn that we have decided that you do in fact have adequate clearance after all.\u201d<\/p>\n

Solvay\u2019s words were a surprise and a threat. \u201cI don\u2019t understand,\u201d Rikard said.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s not necessary that you do,\u201d Solvay told him. \u201cYou do want to go to the surface, don\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, but. .. \u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFine. The next shuttle leaves in two hours.\u201d<\/p>\n

Rikard didn\u2019t like being put into a comer, even one of his own making. \u201cI\u2019d like to talk to Colonel Polski first,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t think that can be arranged,\u201d Solvay told him. \u201cIt is really a most inconvenient hour.\u201d He turned to Zakroyan. \u201cEmeth, escort Msr. Braeth to his room. He is not to use the communicator for any reason whatsoever.\u201d<\/p>\n

As she rose from the desk the two cops came forward. Rikard\u2019s palm itched madly, but he just clenched his hands. Zakroyan took his shoulder to tum him around. He shrugged her hand off and walked to the door. The two cops followed.<\/p>\n

Outside, Zakroyan fell into step beside him. The two cops took their places immediately behind. They walked toward Rikard\u2019s hostel. \u00b7<\/p>\n

He had difficulty keeping his face under control. He wanted to go to the surface on his own terms, not under Solvay\u2019s gun. Not much choice now. He was in trouble, and possibly in danger of his life. Best to worry only about getting to the surface alive and in one piece.<\/p>\n

As they left the administrative section, Zakroyan smirked, showing emotion for the first time. \u201cIt\u2019s a one-way ticket, Msr. Braeth.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re going to kill me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t have to. If you\u2019re not tough enough, the surface will take care of that for me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t understand.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou will soon enough.\u201d She was baiting him and enjoying his discomfiture.<\/p>\n

There was absolutely no one in the corridors. Even at this hour there should have been a few people about. Neither was anybody on duty in the lobby of the hostel. It seemed everybody had been warned to stay out of sight.<\/p>\n

They reached Rikard\u2019s floor, where the cops took up stations on either side of his door. Zakroyan came in with Rikard and stood with her back against the door, her arms folded, watching while he packed.<\/p>\n

He had only one suitcase, into which he quickly put his few clothes. There were some files which he packed into his note recorder, a portable word-processing and data-base computer. He was packed within fifteen minutes. He left the suitcase and recorder on the bed and sat in the room\u2019s one chair.<\/p>\n

He watched Zakroyan, she watched him, neither of them speaking. Rikard\u2019s nerves were on edge. At last the two hours passed, and Zakroyan stood away from the door. \u201cWe\u2019d better get moving,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

Rikard picked up his two cases and, at her silent instruction, preceded her out the door. The two cops outside were alert and ready. All four walked to a part of the station Rikard had not visited before.<\/p>\n

It was the shuttle depot, and nobody was on duty there either. Zakroyan worked the controls herself. The door slid open, the shuttle hatch on the other side slid open, and Rikard went in. The other three did not follow. Rikard turned to see Zakroyan, a slight smile on her face, punching the controls again. The hatches closed.<\/p>\n

There were twenty seats on the shuttle but no other passengers. Rikard tossed his suitcase on one seat, the recorder on another, and sat down in a third. There were no ports or windows. He felt his stomach clench, his palm itch. He rubbed the scar; the circles floated in his sight.<\/p>\n

After a moment he felt a slight jerk. It surprised him. If it was just the shuttle departing the station, it should have moved without any jerk at all. A few seconds later he felt a gentle vibration, also unusual, and a sign that the shuttle was not in good repair.<\/p>\n

The planetary drive took the shuttle away from the station and started it down to the surface. You could go from star to star in just a few days on the flicker ships. It took nearly a day to travel the relatively infinitesimal additional distance from a system\u2019s jump-slot to planetary orbit. The trip to the surface lasted an hour.<\/p>\n

~~~~~<\/strong><\/p>\n

If you want more, you can get it here<\/a>. Or here<\/a>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Part One 1. Kohltri was a lonely planet, the only one orbiting its sun, and far from the rest of the Federation, of which it was a member. Across the Federation from Kohltri were the Crescent Cluster, the Anarchy of Raas, the Abogarn Hegemony, and other political entities spanning dozens or hundreds of inhabited starContinue reading →<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-247","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry","no-thumb"],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/allen-wold.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/247","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/allen-wold.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/allen-wold.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/allen-wold.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/allen-wold.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=247"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/allen-wold.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/247\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":788,"href":"https:\/\/allen-wold.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/247\/revisions\/788"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/allen-wold.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=247"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}