December 1997 Story

[Kare and T'Klkk's Apartment, O15 on First Landing Underground Map]

Kare looks at T'Klkk and Urugg with inquisitive eyes and an enigmatic smile. "What is it?"

T'Klkk is first to reply. "Greetings, team-mate Kare. Your absence was noted at our latest strategy meeting."

Kare shrugs. "Yeah, so?"

"Since we are team-mates, it is customary among my people to be forthright and uncensored among teammates. So, I must tell you that your disappearance raises suspicion in light of your alleged involvement with a group which has proven to be an enemy of our current employer. All of the other team-mates are aware of this information. And, I will say to you as I said to them: My first loyalty is to all members of this team. Until you prove otherwise, I work from the assumption that you are equally commited to this team, and I will defend any challenges that others may raise against you. However, if you do indeed prove to be working counter to this team, I will personally exercise the right of k'aa-ti nih kltl, the right of righteous retribution. I know no other way to be more up front or honest with you, team-mate Kare. You are very important to this team, and I will continue to support and advocate for you until I have reason not to."

Urugg changes the subject. "That aside, a lot has happened while you've been gone. Syzygy was put in a medical center after a surprise attack from a team of invisible raiders. We've found a number of large footprints at the site where he was attacked, and we were going to do some further investigation. From the looks of. . .you. . ." Urugg looks over the grimy filth that has coated Kare from face to ankle. ". . .You've been doing some investigating of your own."

"That's brilliant, ape-face," answers Kare. "I went back to the life support buildings that the Star's Arm took over. I found a nice little sabotaged panel--lock deactivated, security re-routed, the works. They even smashed the security camera that monitors the panel. Beyond the panel was an unused ventilator shaft large enough to crawl through."

"And observing your lack of cleanliness, I would conclude that you did," says T'Klkk.

Kare continues. "It turns out there's an entire network of these shafts, especially among the older buildings near the Spire. In the early days of First Landing, they were used to transfer life support to main buildings. These days, life support is transmitted through a more complex network of smaller tubes--only centimeters wide. But most of the larger shafts from the old days are still around--just sealed off."

Urugg is suddenly quite interested. "The shaft that was sabotaged. Where did it lead?"

Kare grins smugly. "The executive office of one Mr. Selson Streel."

"Was the panel on Mr. Streel's side still sealed?"

"Yep. I had to deactivate it myself to get it open."

Urugg frowns and looks over at T'Klkk. "This worries me. It seems very likely that the life support center takeover was a cover for set-ups like the loose panel and broken camera Kare found. It looks to me that whoever orchestrated the protest did so to cover the vent set-ups, and modified the ventilator panel specifically to either assassinate or kidnap Selson or one of his close staff. It is also possible that one of his staff is a co-conspirator against him--'sleeper' agent as it were--and the vent is set up as an escape route for them after they assassinate or kidnap him. I think our opponents are playing for keeps. . ."

[Crayman Heit's Home, Residential Section, L10 on Underground Level]

"Mr. Heit. I assure you that I have no plans to take Loer into custody." Tork smiles at Crayman, lowers his voice, and adds "at this time." He continues in his normal voice. "We were hired by Mr. Streel to investigate a situation on Metrosphere and I am hoping to remove Stars' Arm from the list of suspects. I understand your hesitance to tell us where Loer is. Would it be possible to set up a meeting?"

[Tork PERSONALITY: 65 + 0 (racial modifier); Rolled: 57]

"A meeting for what?" demands the voice of a female Yazirian in the next room. She walks in boldly, examining Tork and Zane.

"We mainly want to ask her a few questions, if we could just see her."

The Yazirian woman's eyes sear through Tork's flesh. "You do see her! What do you want to know?"

Tork builds up a fierce expression to match hers. "Well, for starters, what does the Star's Arm hope to accomplish?"

Loer throws her hands in the air. "I don't believe this. We spend all this time trying to inform the public, and nobody knows what the hell we hope to accomplish! Do you know why the Streel Corporation came to this moon? Because there's no one here to stand up to them and say, 'You can't destroy the environment.'"

Zane looks confused. "Metrosphere doesn't have an environment."

Loer is all the more enraged. "That's exactly the type of ignorance we're trying to prevent. Why doesn't Metrosphere have an environment? Because it doesn't have an atmosphere like Port Loren? Because it didn't evolve sentient races like Volturnus? At the rate Streel is going, there won't be much of this moon left in twenty years. Do you think they're going to stop there? No! They'll go on to another, quote, lifeless rock, unquote. Soon they'll plunder every planet and moon in their path, and what will happen after there are no planets left? Someone has to stand up and regulate the damage that Streel is doing!"

"Okay, okay," interjects Tork. "Let's go on to another subject. Why weren't you at the demonstration in the life support buildings?"

This question actually silences Loer. She resumes in a strangely hushed voice. "The life support demonstration wasn't my doing. I want to save this moon, but I'm not going to put its population at risk to do so. Spider organized taking over the life support facilities without my approval. That's why I got rid of him."

"Who is this Spider? How long have you known him?"

"He only showed up a couple weeks ago. I don't know his real name. He seemed very interested in our cause, and he was very charismatic. At the time I thought he could help us, but I think he had a hidden agenda of his own."

"Why do you say that?"

"The first thing he did was try to get the support of my followers. He began filling them with sermons about taking back Metrosphere by any means necessary. This sounded fine at first, but his ideas became more and more violent. Taking over the life support facilities behind my back was the last straw."

"But what about a hidden agenda?"

"I once overheard Spider talking with some of my followers. It appears that he spent some time in a high security prison facility. He mentioned that he had come to Metrosphere to 'set things right' with the person responsible for putting him there. It was only a few days later that I found this among his belongings."

Loer pulls out a small black cartridge.

Tork's jaw drops at the sight of it. "Those are illegal on almost every planet in the Federation!"

"They're illegal here, too," confirms Loer.

Zane doesn't recognize the package. "What is it?"

"They're commonly called assassinators," explains Tork. "Spike clusters that can be fired by any standard needler weapon. Each cluster is dosed with a powerful paralytic drug and poison lethal enough to kill an average Human or Yazirian with a single shot. Their only known use is to kill, usually in secret."

[For all of you wanting stats, a single hit from an assinator cluster does an initial 1d10 damage. The victim must succeed a STAMINA check to avoid being paralyzed for d100 turns. The needles also come with an S5/T9 poision. If the victim becomes paralyzed or for any other reason does not get help, the poison will have caused 45 points of damage after 9 turns (less than a minute!)]

"Can we keep these?" asks Tork.

"If you're investigating Spider, go ahead. I'm sure his fingerprints are all over the thing."

"Where is Spider now?" asks Zane.

"I don't know. He seemed in quite a hurry to leave when I confronted him after the life support demonstration."

Tork frowns. "Did he threaten you in any way?"

"No. He seemed pretty frustrated, but he didn't want to make a scene. I haven't heard from him since."

[South Medical Center, I13 on Underground Level]

Syzygy glances over from his recovery bed. Taanik is absorbed in the task of taking apart the trivid projector and examining every piece.

"What's going on?"

[Taanik Analyze Machinery: 40 (base) + 10 (skill level x 10) + 3 (INTUITION modifier) = 53%; Rolled: 25]

Taanik looks up, a smear of grease on ids cheek. "It's curious that the trivid isn't working. My first concern was to make sure this really is a device to watch movies--and not a device that watches us! It seems we're okay there. This is just a standard, high-grade trivid projector. No cameras. The machinery itself seems to be fully functional. As far as I can tell, the problem is due to a software glitch. This unit requests movies from a centralized video server, but the video server's security protocol isn't granting access to its library. It's probably just a simple programming issue, easy to fix for anyone familiar with the system's code."

Syzygy stands tall and stretches. "Well, as much as I liked this place, I'm ready to leave it all and forget this incident ever happened."

"What do you plan to do now?" asks Taanik.

"I've researched everything I can think of, and I keep hitting dead-ends. I think it's about time I started talking to someone who really knows whats going on."

The Dralasite smiles. "Who would that be?"

"Don't know. But it turns out that Maxim Zek'et, the old Vrusk who built this city, still lives here. He's just retired. I thought I'd begin with a casual visit with him. Hope you don't mind if I go alone, but I don't want this to look like an inquisition."

"Just make sure you take care of yourself. And call for backup at the first sign of trouble. I mean it this time. We're here to help you."

The Vrusk lowers his head. "I appreciate the concern. I--I really do. Working with others is just something. . .I'll have to get used to."

[Outside Monorail Tube, I16 on First Landing Surface]

T'Klkk's automatic rifle weighs heavily in her arms as she stands near Urugg. Invisible beings had violently beaten Syzygy at this very spot, and she isn't taking any chances.

Even now, at mid-day, the world outside First Landing's shell is darkest black. The sky is lit only by stars and the distant orange glow of Gigus.

"We're lucky," says Urugg through the radio of his spacesuit. No one has been by here since yesterday. And with Metrosphere's lack of atmosphere, the dust and dirt has been totally undisturbed.

"I've taken several photographs of the area. Now comes the detailed stuff."

The Yazirian environmentalist proceeds to cast of number of the bootprints with vacuum-drying resin. He then takes out his envirokit and begins to study them.

[Urugg Tracking: 30 (base) + 20 (skill level x 10) + 13 (INTUITION modifier) = 63%; Rolled: 17]

"Syzygy's assailants were bipedal, walking heel-to-toe like Humans or Yazirians. The mass of his assailants ranged from approximately 105 to 135 kg--which seems a bit high. It appears that once attacked, Syzygy was not dragged or moved in any way. His natural footsteps lead to this point and this is where he fell.

"I've verified that the attackers all had the same bootprint pattern. I've transmitted this to Kare, so that she can compare the pattern with any known Streel or non-Streel boot patterns in the Computer Spire's database. Let's go see if she's found anything."

Urugg and T'Klkk re-enter the monorail tube, where they find a holographic communication panel.

The image of Kare fills an empty section of three-dimensional space.

[Kare Display Information: 80 (base) + 20 (skill level x 10) + 3 (INTUITION modifier) - 60 (Spire computer level x 10) = 43%; Rolled: 19]

"I have the information you wanted," says Kare. "The bootprint pattern matches a number of high-end Streel military suits, most of which are still in the experimental stages. Several of these suit designs match the pattern, so it's hard to say exactly which one the attackers were using. Even a bigger mystery is how they can afford such nice equipment when they have to spend all of their time stealing water and food rations.

"If that's all you needed, I have another. . .errand to attend to. Kare out."

[Kare's Room, O15 on First Landing Underground Map]

Kare looks around to make sure she is alone.

With nimble fingers she activates her holographic recording device and examines the past few hours of activity recorded by the chronocom she planted in Selson Streel's office. A small 2-D image--as much as the chronocom can capture--is projected in 3-D space.

She can't keep from smiling. "Now, let's see what dirt we can dig up on Mr. Streel."

In the miniature projection Selson steps over to his personal computer terminal and logs in.

Kare almost drools. "Right.. That's right. . . Enter your password. . . Damn! The screen echo is encoded. Arr. . . And there's no clear view of his fingers on the touchpad!

"Hmm. . . What's he doing? Checking systems. . . Life support. . . Mining. . . Production. . . Importing and exporting. . . Immigration. . . Health. . . This guy has access to everything!"

A Human woman enters Selson's office--the same gray-suited businesswoman that so rudely greeted Kare during her last impromptu visit.

"I'm not one to question your decisions, Mr. Streel," says the woman. "But why did you put this Kare woman on the investigation team? She's had obvious involvement with anti-Streel terrorists in the past. She's a full-blown hacker, and she's a very big security risk!"

Selson sighs over his computer. "We've had this conversion before, Alicia. We're facing terrorism right now. The Star's Arm is becoming more violent. Buildings along the south of the city are constantly being raided. So far our law enforcement has been helpless against this, even with all the security equipment we've provided them with. That means we're up against someone with real brains. We need a hacker to beat a hacker."

The woman is not satisfied. "And this Urugg fellow. Take a look at his record. It's splattered with involvement in protest groups and demonstrations. This is exactly the kind of person to sympathize with the Star's Arm."

"Alicia, I'm not out to crush the Star's Arm. Concern for the environment is a good thing. I made the decision to bring Loer An-Tehr to Metrosphere myself, although I wasn't expecting things to go so far. Loer and her followers have got to see that they're going to far, and their protests are putting the city at risk. Urugg should have just the background to do this."

"Tell me why you put a reject of the Vrusk society on the team."

"Syzygy's official record marks him as anything but incompetent. He's a capable techex, with more ingenuity than I'll ever have. And if he's marked as a Zed, all the better to keep First Landing's aggressors off their guard.

"It's okay, Alicia," continues Streel. "I've gotten the message that you don't approve of my choices for the investigation team, but I'd appreciate it if you'd just let me do my job."

The woman is only further enraged. "You'd better believe I don't approve! Selecting this Taanik fellow who uses his technical skills for practical joking. Great, another saboteur on our hands! Zane, a university student with no experience! Tork, who brings along with him his intolerance of authority. And this T'Klkk lady who's more concerned about protocol and Vrusk etiquette than getting anything done."

Selson turns around, his lip stiffened with authority. "Are you quite finished, Alicia?"

"When Maxim was in control--"

"Well, Maxim isn't in control. I am. I hand-picked this investigation team, and I had a reason for choosing every member of that team. You're just going to have to trust that I know what I'm doing here. Believe it or not, the members of this team are exactly what we need."

Kare shuts down the recording. "Great! I try to dig up dirt on Streel, and dig up dirt on our team instead."

[Commercial Center, L8 on First Landing Underground Map]

"This might do," says Tork, picking up a box of ammunition. "Hollow gyrojet shells, 10 credits for a pistol jetclip, 20 for a rifle jetclip."

"That's the same price as the explosive rounds," says Taanik. "If you ask me, the explosive ones give you a lot more bang for your credit. Heh heh."

"I'm not looking for a 'bang.' I need something to make these invisible raiders visible. If I can load these gyrojet rounds with paint. . ."

Taanik cuts him off. "Stop the train. I see where it's headed, but you can't get off there. If these raiders are cloaking themselves with holoscreen projections or by bending light, putting paint behind the illusion isn't going to make a difference. Sure, you'll add some nice color to the guy underneath, but you can't see the guy no matter what color he is. . .unless. . ."

"Unless what?"

"What if we use paint that contains a mildly radioactive barium isotope. If we splattered the raiders with that, we could track them with a radiation sensor."

"Very good, Taanik. Maybe you're not all jokes and fluff. Why don't we visit a chemical supply store?"

Taanik lights up. "I think I saw some paint just like that down the street for 15 credits. If we hurry, we may have time to go back to the ore refinery and check out the robots that haul stuff in from the automated mines. Something about that still seems suspicious. You remember that report in the White Light system about a crime ring that was smuggling weapons in by hiding them in robots. . ."

[Residential Area, D16 on First Landing Underground Map]

As Syzygy passes down the hallway walkstrip, he notices that this residential area looks more luxurious than any he has seen. Fine metals and animated nature scenes make up the walls. Top-of-the-line soundproofing eliminates any noise from inside the dwellings.

It all feels so peaceful that Syzygy is startled by the Yazirian voice that stops him.

"Excuse me, sir. You're going to have to wait here briefly!" says the tall monkey-like alien. He's seems to have extensive training in walking that line between powerful authority and suppliant courtesy. "May I ask who you've come to see?"

Syzygy stutters awkwardly. He wasn't expecting to pass through any security. But with his host's importance, it would only be natural. "Uh, Z-Zek'et. I'm supposed to meet with Maxim Zek'et."

"Oh." The Yazirian raises an eyebrow. "On moment please." He steps back into a small room and returns. With the pull of a lever, a massive steel door glides open, revealing a larger hallway. "Please come with me, sir."

Syzygy's newly found escort takes him through a short series of extra-wide moving hallstrips and presents him at a large ornamental door.

A slow but alert Vrusk replies to the Yazirian escort's call chime. Age has dulled the insectoid's carapace to an olive green, with yellow ocre at the joints.

"Ah, Syzygy," says the Vrusk. "I am Maxim Zek'et." He extends a business-like hand of welcome. "Your promptness is impeccable. Please come in."

Syzygy trembles slightly as he enters the wise elder's den. Was this really what he wanted? Zek'et was surely the epitome of the strict Vrusk business society. His lucrative success was the product of Vrusk ideals. It was from all these things that Syzygy had been barred with his mark of Zed, and it was from all these things that Syzygy had been running since his youth. Maybe meeting with Zek'et wasn't such a good idea.

"I've had a meal of Circe delicacies prepared," says Zek'et. "I hope it pleases you. I don't get many visitors."

Syzygy searches for the correct words. "Uh. . .ha. . . Ten degress of gratitude. . .successful Zek'et. It is with nine degrees of humility. . ."

"Maxim," says the elder Vrusk.

"Huh?"

The elder Vrusk sits at the meal table and gestures for his guest to be seated as well. "Syzygy, if you're going to reach your true potential, the first thing you need to do is be yourself. If the rules of Vrusk speech etiquette are uncomfortable for you, don't use them. And please, call me Maxim."

Syzygy notices that Maxim seems to be looking at something. . .the mark of Zed on his shoulder. Syzygy winces and covers it back up.

But by covering it up, Syzygy has only made it all the more noticeable.

"Ahh," says Maxim, leaning his head back. "The mark of 'Zed.' A reject of Vrusk society. The mark troubles you."

Syzygy lowers his head.

Maxim does not resume speaking for several seconds. "The mark troubles you. Well, you're my captive audience now. Let me tell you something about myself.

"The Zek'et name is highly respected on my homeworld of Terledrom. The Zek'et family business is one of the largest and most successful in that sector of the Frontier. I am not part of that business."

Syzygy's expression only grows more confused.

Maxim continues. "My father owned an empire: factories, office buildings, ore refineries, everything you could imagine. As his oldest son, I was expected to take it all over when he passed on. But to do so, I had to pass hundreds of rigorous tests on every subject the Vrusk people hold dear: commerce, public relations, mathematics--even etiquette. The tests took years of study and practice."

Syzygy feels a bit more comfortable now that the topic of conversation has shifted to his host. "I congratulate you on passing these tests. I couldn't have."

Maxim's smile is the biggest Syzygy has yet seen. "Who says I did? I failed them. Every one! I was officially catalogued as 'unfit' to manage the type of business empire that my father owned. The leadership of the company passed on to my brother Zyluss, and my ties with the Zek'et Corporation have all but dissolved."

"That wasn't what I was expecting," says Syzygy.

"Well it's what happened. I let it bother me for a while. But one day I decided that the decree of my incompetence had been made by others. When they marked me as 'unfit' they forgot to consult the only person that really had a say in the matter: ME!

"I decided I wasn't going to let the decisions of others control my life. What Vrusk society would not do for me, I would do for myself. The Streel Corporation was happy to accept an entry level businessman. My career was an uphill battle from that point, but look where it's gotten me.

"My father once controlled factories, commercial centers, skyscrapers of business offices. I have built the same, from scratch on a hostile world. Metrosphere is my crowning achievement--my contribution to Federation society. My last hope in life is to live long enough to see Metrosphere become fully terraformed. Then I can die knowing I have accomplished what I was meant to accomplish.

"All this from a Vrusk labeled 'unfit' by a society of sheep with no imagination. You see, my friend, that mark on your shoulder means nothing. It was put there by people who had no authority to say what you can and cannot do. There is only one voice that can declare you a success or a failure: YOURS! This food is excellent isn't it?"

"Thank you, Maxim. I'll consider your words."

Maxim's next sentence comes out between munches on the Circe delicacies. "So, you're here to investigate some security threats on Metrosphere?"

"Yes. It appears someone has been making changes to a few security algorithms at the Spire that can be accounted for. My guess is there's a talented computer hacker among us."

"Hmm. Sounds like the kind of thing Snarr Ap-Rewann could do. His death was never confirmed."

"Another possibility I've been looking into is a recently escaped criminal named Dakka Syte."

"Ah yes. He's pretty devious. No morals whatsoever."

"You know him?"

"Not personally. But my brother Zyluss was sitting on the Terledrom Supreme Council when Dakka was last brought in. He had been involved in a plot to murder a Star Law agent and blame it on the Council. An interesting story, really."

"Who brought him in?"

Maxim has to think about it for a while. "If I remember right, it was a Vrusk Star Law agent named Jecc Weep. He captured Syte with the help of a couple freighter pilots named. . .Grogan and Karchudka--or something like that. I'm sure you can look it up in the Spire's database."

"Probably. I haven't always had much luck with the database. Just yesterday I was looking for information on a name a colleague of mine found on an ID card. But there wasn't a single mention of the name in the Spire's personnel management program."

"What name were you looking for?"

"Simeonne Arielle."

Maxim's antennae perk up, and he sets down his eating utensil. "Simeonne Arielle?"

[Bachanda Trees in Park Dome, G15 on First Landing Underground Map]

[Zane Diagnosis: 60 (base) + 30 (skill level x 10) + 10 (INTUITION modifier) = 95%; Rolled: 63]

Zane puts away his medscanner. "Thanks your cooperation, Cimmy. I'm done now."

Cimmy sits up and rubs her left temple. "Cimmy is tired."

"That's right," says Zane. "You should get some rest now. Urugg and I will be just outside."

Urugg and Zane step outside the tree house dwelling and stop on a flat Bachanda branch to discuss the results of Zane's diagnosis.

"It's pretty obvious," says Zane. "Cimmy's brain damage was caused by long-term oxygen deprivation."

"Can we do anything for her?" asks Urugg.

"Not at this point. Cimmy's brain trauma is the result of years of exposure to oxygen starved conditions. If we had caught the problem then, we might have been able to do something. But by now her neural synapses are too far degraded to repair. Personally, I'd like to know where she came from."

Urugg's chronocom bleeps to life, casting a yellowish glow on the shadowy branches.

"Urugg, this is Syzygy. I'm here with Maxim Zek'et, and he has just confirmed that Simeonne Arielle, known to many as 'Cimmy,' was one of the 58 original colonists that followed Snarr Ap-Rewann and built Lost Point."

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