Элизабет Мун - Into the Fire

“Yes, Sera. They have a large house—it was on the market but they’ll be just as glad to stay there as long as it’s not just the two of them. They’re in Arsinine.”

“When can you get to a transport hub?”

“I’m not sure. I’m leery of hiring private transport in an area I don’t know well; ideal would be a VTOL of some sort, but the resort lists only local operators.”

“We’ll send info with the security team.”

She realized, in the midst of making calls to charter a VTOL craft with the range to extract them, arranging a charter flight for the family to Arsinine, letting Bry know that help was on the way, and ensuring ground transportation from the Arsinine airport to his parents’ house—that this was much like what Ky had done. That her care for Vatta employees was like Ky’s for her soldiers. Well. Another new idea, and one she would have to share with Ky when the Commandant had time.

Ky and Corporal Metis began searching Sera Vonderlane’s office. “Tech Coston will call if he needs us,” Metis said. “Did you turn out her purse?”

“Had her do it. I’m sure I have all the keys but the one she said opened her apartment. Also two datacards, the probe with the access built in, a couple of letters. Nothing in her pockets but lint.”

“She seemed like a nice lady,” Metis said. “Of course, I saw her only occasionally.”

“I think she is a nice lady,” Ky said. “But she’s been economically dependent on Kvannis for years. As his wife’s social secretary, she apparently did him some favors, too. And he was paying her another twenty-five percent on top of her salary.”

“That’s… illegal, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but I don’t think she knew. She’d started working for his wife because of her daughter’s injuries; he already knew about her medical expenses from that. She’d be doing him a favor to come to the Academy; he wouldn’t let her income suffer. That kind of thing.”

“I wonder what he wanted her to do,” Metis asked. They had found nothing in the center desk drawer but what should be there: styluses, pencils, notepads, some with notes and some not. A printed list of the Academy faculty and staff, faculty with blue checks beside their names and staff with orange. Metis opened the left-hand drawer. “Well. Here’s something.”

Ky looked over. He held up a small machine. “What’s that?”

“Something she shouldn’t have had. A fully programmable franking printer. She could make something look like it came from any government agency.” He pulled a pad from the center drawer, fiddled with the controls, and inserted a sheet; the machine emitted a beep and then the image of a Slotter Key stamp imposed on the Department of Defense logo. Another sheet; he changed the controls and that one printed out OFFICE OF THE PRESIDENT. “These are coded, supposed to be strictly controlled.” He put it into the trolley he’d brought along for evidence.

Also in the drawer were preprinted envelopes with the return addresses of a dozen or more governmental agencies and offices in the military.

“Look at this,” Metis said. On the point of each envelope flap was a small irregular spot, a smudge as if it had been touched by a soiled finger. “A signal that these envelopes weren’t what they seemed?”

“Could be,” Ky said. Her drawer had produced a box of stationery, completely blank, a box of pens printed with the Commandant’s name and title—Kvannis, not Vatta, of course—and at the very back, a small envelope attached to the back of the drawer. “Bet this has a key in it,” she said.

“Let me, Commandant,” Metis said, as she reached for the envelope. He pulled a set of tongs out of his kit and tugged gently at the envelope. It ripped and a cloud of white powder flew out. He dropped the tongs and turned away, scrabbling at his pocket; Ky slapped her own emergency mask on and a second on him before he got his own out.

“Hurry,” she said, pulling him toward her office. Eyes wide, he followed her, but stopped at the door, pointing to his shirt front, speckled with white. “I’ll call,” Ky said. Tech Coston answered from the security office. She told him what had happened, what they needed.

“Closest tox scanner is city emergency response,” he said, sounding worried. “There’s a team out at the base, of course, but that’s twice as far—”

“Call the closest. Corporal Metis has visible powder on his uniform. I’m at my desk and will answer any questions.”

“Yes, Commandant.”

This was going to take hours, even if it turned out to be face powder. “Call’s going in to the city team,” she said to Metis, still standing at the doorway. He looked fine, though worried, as well he might be. “I’m going to check for emergency supplies in this office.”

There was, in fact, an emergency box mounted on the wall of the little sitting room, and another in the toilet. More emergency masks, a fire hood and mask, fire-resistant gloves, in both places. She put on the fire hood and brought the other one to Metis. He shook his head. “Even with tongs, my hands might be contaminated. I’m better off with the one I’m wearing.”

“I can put it on you without touching you,” Ky said. “It’ll protect your face better. Turn around.”

She had put these things on in drills—on herself, on someone else—and in seconds his face was protected. She went to the window of her office and looked out. Flashing lights approached.

“That was fast,” she said. “Something’s coming.”

“Maybe we don’t need them,” he said. “I don’t feel anything. It’s probably nothing. And you slapped that mask on me really fast.”

“I certainly hope so. But you’re going to be checked over and the stuff analyzed, anyway.” She went back to the window. A single vehicle, not any larger than a personal car, had pulled up below. Her desk com chimed. She answered. “Commandant Vatta.”

“This is Port Major Emergency Response. Please state your name, address, and the nature of your emergency.”

“This is Commandant Vatta. I’m in my office in the headquarters building of the Academy, and one of your vehicles just pulled up to the door. The nature of the emergency is possible exposure to a dangerous substance unknown at this time.”

“Oh… this is the actual Commandant? Not a secretary?”

“Yes, this is Commandant Vatta. Two persons were exposed; one of them has particles of a white powder on his uniform. I was in the room but not immediately adjacent to the release of the powder.”

“What was it released from?”

“An envelope. We need—”

“We understand your needs, Sera; please calm down.” She hadn’t raised her voice; she had an urge to raise it now, when the voice added, in the same tone, “Why were we called? The Academy is outside our jurisdiction.”

“You are the nearest emergency service with the ability to handle toxic materials,” Ky said. “Although you are not military, you are listed as first response anywhere in the city. The Joint Services base is west of the city, and it would take much longer for them to arrive. That is why Tech Coston called you.”

“Is he breathing?”

“Tech Coston? He was not exposed.”

“The person who was exposed. Is he breathing?”

“Yes. But if the powder is any of several things I can think of, it’s imperative that he be decontaminated and taken to hospital quickly.”

“It’s just—a moment, my supervisor wants to speak with you.”

Ky heard voices in the background of the call. She punched her controls for video, but it was blocked.

“Commandant Vatta?” A deeper voice this time.

“Yes,” Ky said.

“We have a problem. You—well, not you personally but the Commandant before you—ordered Port Major law enforcement off the premises, threatened us if we ever intruded again. We’d had an emergency call and sent an ambulance—”