John Ringo - Cally's War

“Does anybody have any questions? No? Great. I’ll head down to medical and see you back here in three hours.” She scooped up her PDA and headed for the door.

“Uh… wait a minute, Cally,” Jay interrupted, looking around at Tommy and Papa, “I just wanted to say, and I think I speak for all of us, how glad we all are that you’re still going to be with us on this mission. And I’m sure I speak for all of us again when I say that I’m sure that, well, everything will work out just fine.”

“Well… thank you, Jay.” Her forehead had wrinkled slightly, but her eyes warmed as she turned and left.

“Will you be carrying a no-name pill?” Papa sounded like he thought it was a very good idea.

“No. The secret of that pill is worth more than I am. And if I was taken, they could find it or, even if they didn’t, the chances of you getting to me inside the time limit would be small. That’s too much like a suicide pill for my liking. I don’t plan to be caught, but if I am, I’ll do everything the nuns taught us in SERE. Besides, there probably wouldn’t be time to make one up to my new stats. And, frankly, I don’t plan to need it.”

“If that wasn’t the fastest briefing I’ve ever had, it’s close.” Tommy sat watching the door for a moment before taking the cube she’d tossed him and swapping it into the reader slot of his AID.

“To the point, though.” O’Neal spat neatly into his cup, as he brought up a map of the Chicago air and space port.

“Okay, I feel better now that I see what she pulled together and what she left for us. Cally always has had a good sense of the hacking she could get away with.” He walked over and poured himself a fresh cup of coffee.

“Jay, you take the cover, I’ll take the personnel files of the other staff.”

“Wouldn’t have wanted to say it in front of Cally, but the captain has some damn fine architecture,” Jay said appreciatively.

“Yeah, but her nose is a tad off-center and she’s always going to need makeup to darken her eyebrows and stuff,” Tommy commented.

“You noticed her nose and eyebrows?” Jay sounded disbelieving. Papa O’Neal just shook his head.

“Briefly. Very briefly,” Tommy grinned.

“You guys keep working. I’ve got something to take care of. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Papa had a stubborn look on his face.

Johnny Stuart was not a morning person. Unfortunately, the Coburn girl had the morning off to go to the dentist and, like most kids, Mary Lynn was an early riser. Which is why he was sitting up in a rumpled bed, rubbing his eyes, while a wriggling five year old climbed into his lap.

Mary Lynn had the dark brown curls of her mother, but his own facial features. They just looked better on her. After the cancer had taken his wife, three years ago, the doctors had told him that it raised Mary Lynn’s risk considerably. If he’d had some pull, he might have been able to get the new drugs to save her, but Sue hadn’t much held with pull, and the cancer had come on sudden and before he could do anything, Sue was gone and him left to do the best he could by Mary Lynn. He didn’t understand much about the numbers in what the doctor said, not having got much past high school algebra, but what he did understand was that he owed it to Sue never to be in a position to be unable to help his sick kin, their daughter especially, again.

So he had set about going to work for the people with the most pull he could find, getting a reputation for resourcefulness and the willingness to get things done no matter what it took. And plenty of times it had taken things that were way outside the normal rules. But a man who wouldn’t break a few rules for his own was no kind of man at all. That was the best thing about his recent promotion. If he could pull this off and keep the damned aliens happy, he and Mary Lynn would never lack for the best of care again.

“How’s my Sunshine this morning!” He began tickling her ribs mercilessly, until she squirmed away from him and off the bed.

“Silly Daddy,” she said. “I’m hungry. Where’s Traci?”

“Traci had to go to the dentist, Sunshine. Just you and me this morning. Let me make some coffee and I’ll see if we can find some cereal.” He yawned.

“Lucky Charms!” She ran off towards the kitchen, giggling.

“Okay, I think we’ve still got some,” he called, pulling up his worn cotton pajama bottoms a bit as he got out of bed. Probably ought to get around to replacing those. He trudged into the kitchen and made coffee, taking out two bowls while it dripped through the old-fashioned appliance. He was really just back in Silverton winding up his affairs. The promotion meant moving them to Chicago and a lot of travel for him. He was going to hate being away from Mary Lynn so much, but it was for her own good, so he could protect her better. It was hard, but she’d understand when she was older.

He had tried to get Traci Coburn to move with them, so Mary Lynn wouldn’t have to change babysitters, but Traci hadn’t wanted to leave her family. He could understand that. It took a real cosmopolitan individual to deal with city people and country people alike. And if there was one thing Johnny was, it was good with people. The trick was to tell them as much of what they wanted to hear with as few actual lies as possible. He’d always been gifted that way, but in the years since Sue’s death he’d gone to it with a will and developed it to a high art.

He set the bowl down in front of Mary Lynn and sat down with his own breakfast, having his AID pull up his morning e-mail. He could see right away today was going to be tricky. The Tir’s secretary had left a message asking what he had turned up on Worth’s death, and the bald truth was that despite a week and a half of trying, he had squat. So the task of the day was going to be coming up with something that, while it might not be accurate, would be convincing enough that it would do until he could start finding the real thing. He sent her an e-mail telling her he’d be sending a report first thing Monday morning. Best not to put them off any longer than that.

Smart money was that it was a hit, of course. But he wasn’t going to keep his new job by restating the obvious. He needed something and he needed it now. Maybe a little misdirection would help. People died all the time. If he couldn’t find anything about Worth’s death, maybe he could find something about some other death and claim that they were linked. It didn’t really matter if they were or not. Paranoia always played well, and it was like that numberology con — you could link anything to anything else if you tried hard enough. Some of his best rumors had been built that way. Besides, if he turned up anything later that contradicted the link, chances were it would give him something real about the Worth business, and he’d just be doing a good job. And if he didn’t turn up anything contradictory, well, then there would be nothing to detract from his story, would there?

Once Mary Lynn was safely occupied by the big pink and black bumblebee surrounded by a mob of smiling children that seemed to have taken over their vidscreen, Johnny opened a tray table and had his AID project a virtual keyboard and a holographic screen. The trick was to find anyone else who had ever worked for the Darhel and died, preferably since Worth bought it, but before would do in a pinch.

“Leanne, I need you to search the database of people who have done work for our organization. List me anybody who’s died or disappeared between May ninth of this year and now,” he said.

“Worth, Charles. Reported missing as of May thirteenth, death is likely. Fiek, Samuel. Missing as of May thirteenth, death is likely. Greer, Michael. Dead as of May fifteenth, purposeful termination of contract. Samuels, Vernard. Dead as of May nineteenth, car crash. Petane, Charles. Dead as of May twenty-first, drug overdose. List complete,” it recited.