Merkiaari Wars: 01 - Hard Duty (6 page)

“We’ll see,” Eric said. “Take me to a hotel; somewhere not too pricey but close to the action.”

The driver nodded and turned back to his driving, and Eric entertained himself by watching the world go by.

The road out of the port arrowed straight for Ashfield, the land between still untouched and pristine, meaning jungle covered it. Having such a large section of real estate left virgin was a conscious decision Eric suspected. The original settlers had planned things very well in other areas, why not this? It was a good idea regardless of reasons, but was probably done for safety. Shuttles were quite safe, but accidents still happened. Besides, Ashfield wouldn’t stay small forever.

“Where did the name come from?” Eric said. “Ashfield.”

The driver grunted and gestured out the window toward the direction they were travelling. “The mountain, it’s an extinct volcano. The survey people named it Mount Ebra after one of their guys slipped and broke a leg or something. Whatever. The point is the geologists say this whole place, the city, the port, the land all around here is the ash field left over after Ebra blew its top. So when they decided to build here the name was sorta natural, you know?”

Eric nodded. “I like it.”

The driver grunted.

“You sure Ebra isn’t just dormant?”

The driver shrugged. “The geologists say extinct, and they should know. Be a bit of a bastard if they were wrong though, eh?”

Eric laughed. “Yeah. Ever heard of Pompeii?” Eric craned his neck to see the huge cone-shaped mountain. It was a big bugger, looming hugely over the city even at this distance. “Why do we Humans keep daring things like volcanoes to kill us by building in their back yards?”

“Dunno, but it’s really pretty country here,” the driver said with a grin.

Eric watched the jungle wondering what was looking back at him from under the trees. Something was. His sensors were active as always in combat mode, pretty much his default setting, and was picking up all kinds of unknowns. His data on Thurston was pretty good he would judge. Most new colonies in the border zone couldn’t or wouldn’t pay for the best studies, but Thurston had paid good money for what it did have. The surveys of its resources, and that included fauna and flora on top of the usual geological maps, were quite detailed he would judge. No doubt there were gaps, there always were, but the data was good and well presented. Eric remembered Desmatosuchos the super croc. Was ol’ Desmond under those trees watching dinner drive by? Some of the amber icons on his sensors could be dinosaurs of one kind or another. They were big enough anyway.

“Any trouble with the wildlife?” Eric asked as he watched a herd of something on his sensors amble along parallel to the road hidden by the jungle. “Maybe you have safaris?”

“We sure do!” the driver said enthusiastically. “Both I mean. Hunting is big here. Most of us do a little hunting when we get the time. Safaris, yeah we get them in the season. Brings in the tourists you know? Not around here though. Government pays for a cull every once in a while to keep the city safe, but some of the dumber dinos still come calling looking for a free lunch.”

Eric smiled, imagining it. “Sounds like fun.”

“Can be,” the driver agreed. “Mostly it’s a pain though. Road closures and waiting for a crane to carry the carcass away. They weigh ten even twenty tons some of them. Can bust stuff up before you know it.”

The contacts on his sensors must be deemed safe enough, Eric mused. Maybe they were vegetarian or something.

They entered the city and ten minutes later found them stopping outside the St James Hotel. Eric used one of his wands to pay the driver. He chose the one he brought with him, not those Ken had left. He didn’t know the usernames and passwords set on them yet. That information would be on the minicomp, or should be. He authorised payment and slid his wand out of the receptacle before climbing out of the car to get his duffel. The driver popped the trunk for him without getting out. Eric grabbed his duffel and closed the trunk. The driver raised a hand out his window and drove away.

Eric watched him go, studied his sensors for a brief moment watching for threats and movement patterns that might indicate he was of interest to someone, but found nothing to concern him. Good enough. He entered the hotel to get a room and some quiet time to study his brief in greater detail.

The St James Hotel was a three star establishment, it said so right on the door he passed through, but three star on whose scale? The award sticker and plaque didn’t say. Going by the decor and general feel of the lobby, Eric expected good food but nothing fancy, high prices but not extortionate, and generous sized rooms. Other facilities would probably come under the heading of extras. Eric had seen the best and worst that money could buy in his time; the St James Hotel would rate on his own scale as first class but not top class. There was a difference, mostly in how much useless and fancy pampering a guest wanted or was willing to put up with. Eric had learned to put up with quite a bit but he had never learned to like it. He was a soldier first and his tastes were a soldier’s tastes. Good food, comfortable bed, and within walking distance of some action at a price he could justify come debriefing was all he needed. Not that the General ever asked him how much a mission cost. He had underlings to handle budgets. He just wanted to know successful completion yes or no. If yes what were the results, was a follow-up mission advised? If no, what the fuck was Eric doing back then?

Eric grinned. He never went home to report failure. Not after the first time or two just after the war. That was something they had all learned. The General expected results and within reason didn’t sweat how success was achieved. Obviously the regiment’s exposure was out of the question and was mission critical. No mission could be called a success if it resulted in knowledge of Viper involvement getting out, but apart from that Eric had a free hand. He was expected to get the job done with minimal collateral damage and loss to the Alliance. Note that didn’t mean loss to him, or Thurston, or even Thurston’s citizenry—Burgton could be ruthless when needed—it meant what it said; loss to the Alliance was to be minimised. Eric left those calculations to the General. He decided what an acceptable loss was in the greater scheme, and losing Thurston was not an option.

Thurston would become part of the Alliance. Eric would remove anything or anyone standing in the way of that.

“How may I help you?” The concierge asked and smiled a pleasant but false smile. His eyes flickered disdainfully at Eric’s well-used duffel and worn clothes. “I’m afraid our prices might be... ah, a little beyond your means.”

“I doubt that,” Eric said feeling annoyance rise at this petty little man. “Here, take a look.”

Eric inserted his credit wand into the desk and activated the balance display function. The concierge’s eyes widened at the figure it showed. It was stupid, but Eric felt vindicated when the man whitened as he realised he had insulted a very valuable customer.

“My apologies, sir. Your clothes made me think... never mind. Would you prefer a suite, sir?”

Eric nodded. “I’ll be staying a while; a month or so.”

“Very good, sir,” the concierge said. He was back in his comfort zone and working his computer. “If you would fill in the register,” he continued and indicated a screen set in the desk.

Eric picked up the light pen and quickly filled in the blanks with his false identity. “Send up a meal in an hour. Steak medium rare, eggs, potatoes, and a house salad. Is there a bar in the room?”

“Of course! Fully stocked, sir.”

“Good.”

Eric took his wand, the room key, and headed for the elevators. He glanced at the key. Room 402, fourth floor. He called the elevator and was alone with his thoughts on the ride up.

His first order of business upon entering the room was a sensor sweep. It was very unlikely he would find any surveillance devices, but he had been burned before in the most surprising ways. It cost him nothing to do a walk through while his sensors took the place apart.

>_ Sensors: No threats detected.

As it should be and as expected. He wanted a shower before the food arrived so attended to that next. After he was done and wearing a fresh uniform, he stowed his duffel in the closet but took a couple of spare magazines out and put them in his pockets. The minicomp and all his wands in hand, he relaxed in the sitting room and started work. Twenty minutes later and a lot wiser, he heard a knock on his door. He reached out to the hotel’s rudimentary security system, slipped in, and accessed the camera in the hall. As expected it was room service at his door. He pushed his computer under a pillow and went to open the door.

“Your meal, sir,” the woman said with a warm smile. “I think you will enjoy it. We have an excellent chef here.”

Eric stepped aside to allow her to push the trolley inside. “In the sitting room, please.”

The woman nodded and wheeled the trolley to where he indicated. She held out her scanner and Eric pressed his thumb to it authorising the cost, but he took a moment to key in a five percent tip. It would all be added to his bill.

“Thank you, sir,” the woman said and sounded genuine. “You didn’t need to do that. Service is all included.”

Eric knew that, but he also knew the people who provided the actual service saw none of it and they were the ones who really needed it. Besides, he wasn’t being completely altruistic. He had found simple kindness cost him nothing and sometimes benefitted him in unusual ways; like the time a barman had covered his back when he got jumped one night. He hadn’t needed the assist, but the introduction of an old pulser rifle fired into the club’s ceiling at the right time had certainly ended the fight before body bags had been needed. Kept his cover intact. Well worth the tip.

Eric shrugged. “I can afford it.”

She smiled at him brightly and left.

Always a good idea to make friends rather than enemies, Eric mused, and besides, it wasn’t all about the job. Sometimes he just liked to make someone smile at him. It made him feel like a real person again.

Eric ate his food and called for the trolley to be taken away. The same woman fetched it, and he again insisted upon tipping her. This time he had to talk her into presenting her scanner at all. It was charming, seeing her stammer and blush.

“If there is anything else, sir, ask for me by name. Moira.”

“I will, Moira. Can you set my door to do not disturb on your way out?”

She nodded.

“Thanks.”

Eric watched her leave on the security camera, and she did set the DND as asked. Good. He went back to work.

* * *

St. James Hotel, Thurston, Border Zone

>_ 0559:59 close archive file #0000063577982-3996-SL

>_ 0600:01 Deactivate maintenance mode... Done.

Diagnostics: Unit fit for duty

Activate combat mode... Done

TRS... Done

Sensors... Done

Targeting... Done

Communications... Done

Infonet... Done

TacNet... Done... Scanning... No units/stations found

>_ 0600:05 Reactivation complete

Eric’s eyes snapped open. He was back in the hotel and instantly alert as always. He stared at the ceiling in silence feeling the ghosts of his past slipping away from him and back into his memory, fading, and the ache of their loss dulled from knife sharp agony to the normal ache he always felt.

He swung his legs out of bed and headed for the shower. He had a great deal to get done and he wanted breakfast before he got down to it.

He didn’t call room service but ate in the dining area. Bacon, eggs, toast, fried potatoes, lots of butter on his toast, and plenty of very strong black coffee. He gleefully ignored every warning his processor flagged up for his attention. Caffeine and saturated fats for god’s sake, what were the programmers thinking? It was bad enough he had to imbibe the crap the design team had stipulated to maintain his systems—nanotech could do amazing things, but repairs and maintenance needed raw materials. His bio-systems used food just as god and nature intended, but his cybernetic enhancements needed much more. Viper ration packs tasted disgusting not because all Alliance rations did, but because they were laced with metal salts and other things designed to be broken down and used by his bots. Foul didn’t begin to describe the crap he had to eat every few months or so. No one liked a Viper smoothie that was for damn sure.

When he finished eating, he left the hotel and walked the city streets, taking in the sights. Just another visitor, no particular place to be, looking around, blah, blah, blah. In reality he was watching his sensors intently, and building a three dimensional security map on top of the existing map he had downloaded from Infonet. Ken hadn’t bothered with the city, not because he didn’t have the time, but because he knew Eric’s mission was not in Ashfield. That was understandable. Ken had his area of expertise, and Eric had his. Eric didn’t care that the Freedom Movement was not based in the capital, Ken’s data seemed to indicate that fairly well, but he did care that every target they had hit to date was here. So, that was why he spent that entire day and the following days building up a solid security map of the city; well that, and the fact he would need something to prove his worth to a Freedom Movement recruiter.