Page 60 of Infiltration

Kuran sat on the edge of the desk and listened to the disquieting sound of Piras grinding his teeth as the admiral paced the length of his office. No wonder the man’s jaw was so big in contrast to the rest of his delicate features. He was giving it a hell of a workout.

“What is Bryant’s game?” the admiral mused. “His actions make no sense.”

“Should I go after him?” Kuran asked. “It would have to be as Earth’s security head. We can’t just grab him like we did Fitch and King.”

“Not yet. I want to know if he and the Earthtiques on the legislature are conspiring to harm. If it’s a conspiracy, we need to take as many of them down at once as we can.”

“I have a list of names already. Head Speaker Mitchell, councilmen Spence, Lawrence, Green, Taylor, and Jordan have the most questionable backgrounds and are outspoken critics of Governor Nichols.”

“Speaking of questionable backgrounds, Bryant’s records, particularly those found by the reporter, are raising a lot of red flags.” Piras halted in front of Kuran.

“It also bothers me, sir. Along with additional considerations. Where did Blythe Nelson get the codes to allow her to infiltrate the Church’s secret files? It’s damned near impossible to access even the marriage archives unless you find either the man involved in the relationship, or a Church clerk who handled the records…there were hundreds of such clerks, but most died in Armageddon.” The longer Kuran thought about it, the grouchier it made him.

Piras’ stare increased in intensity. “You’re right. We’ve co-opted the few clerks we’ve found, but we keep close tabs on them. They wouldn’t have spoken to her.”

“I doubt any surviving clerks did. I think Bryant is allowing Matara Nelson to discover his past misdeeds on purpose. It correlates to him hiring the absolute worst bombers he could have found, men we were almost certain to discover the identities of sooner or later.”

Piras’ brows shot high on his forehead. “To what end?”

Kuran scowled at his feet. “I don’t know. It makes no sense, yet it’s the only answer that explains how easily we’ve discovered his activities. I’ve paid attention to the man. He’s a hell of a lot smarter than this.”

Piras considered for a few seconds. “It’s an interesting theory. I can’t fathom what he hopes to gain by it, but it’s worth considering. As I said, we’ll sit tight and wait for what else Bryant does and who helps him. You’ve assigned someone to watch him at all times, along with the nanospy?”

“Yes, Admiral.”

“I hate to remind a man of your professionalism of the obvious, but I’m obsessive when it comes to these matters. Governor Nichols can’t learn of the capture of Fitch and King. What we’re doing is against Earth’s extradition laws and the treaty between Kalquor and them.”

Kuran nodded. He hated to lie to Stacy, even through omission, but the situation had turned ugly. If she discovered he’d taken the lead to have the Earther terrorists imprisoned, interrogated, and smuggled off the planet, there’d be hell to pay.

He told Piras, “The governor’s safety and Earth’s security come first. Whatever it takes, I’m there to do it.”

* * * *

Bi’is

Terig stepped off the shuttle onto the planet Bi’is, forewarned by its window vids of what he’d see. Nonetheless, it was a shock to the system to stand in the midst of mass casualties.

Small decaying gray bodies with bulbous heads were scattered everywhere. They’d dropped where they’d stood, as if they’d been simultaneously hit by a shockwave blast. The difference was shockwaves, at least those used by Kalquorians, didn’t kill.

Close-range scans had confirmed the Bi’isils detected in their capital city were all dead. Except for the slight fluttering of clothing and small bits of debris in the wake of breezes, there was no movement.

Terig was grateful he and Kila’s weapons commander had convinced their respective captains to remain on their ships. Whatever had killed the Bi’isils might still be present. The thought of Nako threatened by such devastation was more than he could countenance.

His subcommander Lon continued to scan, using a hand-held device. His voice was oddly flat in Terig’s atmospheric helmet. “Nothing, Weapons Commander. If any Bi’isils within a mile survived whatever happened here, there’s no sign of them.”

Terig clicked his com to talk to the spyship’s team. “Weapons Commander Terig to Weapons Commander Jado.”

“Go for Jado.”

“Preliminary touch-down report. There don’t seem to be survivors.”

“None in the labs either, based on our initial sweep. We’re conducting a second thorough search now, but I’m not optimistic. They’ve been deceased long enough to start rotting. I’ll com you in fifteen for another check-in, unless we find something interesting.”

“Understood.” Terig clicked off and surveyed the cityscape. Swooping arches against a clear blue sky, a main article of Bi’isil architecture, did nothing to mitigate the horror of what surrounded him.

“The air still registers as breathable, sir,” a tech called.

“Maintain suits and helmets. Get some soil samples, and let’s do our sweep.” Terig set off to explore the city of the dead.

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