All the remaining known Colmarian Navy ships were under the Governor’s control to enforce tolls and keep the peace. It wasn’t much of a fleet. About twenty cruisers, maybe fifty or so destroyers, lots of frigates. Oh, and one dreadnaught with the ironic name of Shelter that was about 90% destroyed.
The dreadnaught had an estimated 250 years of repairs ahead of it. But I heard gossip that it could still move—slowly. If its cannons were working they would be able to blow up any ship or space station in the Belvaille System. Dreadnaughts had been the largest ships of the Colmarian Confederation, built with the purpose of planetary bombardment. So a bit overkill in the post-war era.
The dreadnaught did, however, remind you that the Colmarian Confederation had been capable of building great things.
Shelter was the last ship that still had an a-drive. So it was the only ship capable of reaching systems that no longer had Portals. But it was unclear if it would ever be made functional again because of the vast expense involved. It looked like so much floating junk.
But very scary junk.
“Any calls or clients?” I asked my secretary the next day.
“I don’t know,” she said, not looking up from her tele.
My secretary, See-tah, was just…terrible.
She was seventeen years old, practically an infant. She was the daughter of a wealthy family from the Housing District and lived in a mansion. She arrived every day whenever she wanted in her own private car driven by a chauffeur. I didn’t even own a bicycle because the registration was too high.
She was pretty and had a pleasant voice and was a living organism, but that was the extent of her abilities.
I hadn’t spoken to Malla yet, but it was certain she knew her own husband was dead. I wanted to close that case as soon as I could and get away from it. I didn’t see much good that could come from being even incidentally connected to a City Councilman’s death.
I had brought my gun and grenades to work and I was making sure they were in order.
Grenades were grenades. Not much I could do with them except see they were in their bandolier and able to be removed.
While I loved my Gravitonic gun, it had a lot of dials and buttons and glowing knobs. Delovoa had tried to explain everything to me a hundred times, but I was too stupid to understand. I was always a bit afraid my gun would blow up.
In fact, I probably shouldn’t be messing with this in the office.
I put the gun in my desk drawer with my grenades.
“See-tah, can you get me a drink, please?” I asked. I was trying to train her to do things.
“Now?” she asked, as if it were the most demanding request anyone had ever made since gravity started insisting stuff attract each other.
“Yes, now.”
She stood up in a huff and went to the office bar. I had shown her what to do. I had even gotten Cliston to label all the glasses and decanters. She stared at them like a spoiled rich girl whose parents made her take a job in an attempt to teach her some values.
The office doorbell rang. See-tah stood rooted.
“The door, See-tah,” I nudged.
She turned to face me, throwing up her arms at the impossibility of it all.
“Which do you want?”
“The door,” I said.
I needed a new secretary. Anything. Like I could take a big pillow and draw a face on it and put it in the chair. At least I’d save some money.
She plopped over to the door and opened it as I walked to the bar to get my drink. I expected it would be Malla here to see me and I wouldn’t mind something to steady my nerves.
I heard boots on the floor.
I turned and saw soldiers file into my office. They just kept coming. There must have been twenty of them.
I did not pour my drink.
MTB pushed through the throng of soldiers in his Inspector’s uniform.
“Hank, you need to come with us,” he said.
I looked over to my desk and the weapons it contained.
MTB put his hand inside his coat.
“Unless you got a battleship in there, I wouldn’t try it,” he warned.
I was placed in the back of an armored car with MTB.
One thing that annoyed me about the new Belvaille was they had taken out all the trains. They needed the space to put up their giant new buildings.
For someone like me, that meant I had to walk. Or take a cab. Or bum a ride.
Or in this case, get arrested.
“What’s this about?” I asked MTB.
MTB had been my Deputy Kommilaire back in the day. He was a thick guy, square jaw, lived for police work. He thrived in the new Belvaille with all its laws and punishments. His piss was so clean it was a disinfectant.
“It’s not for me to say,” he answered, eyes forward.
“Your uniform was better as a Kommilaire,” I jabbed.
“We’re not called that anymore, you know that.”
“Oh, right. Central Officers of the Central Authority. Pathetic name.”
I tried to play it tough, but I was scared.
Each noble had a private gang and goons who did heavy work for him or her. And each District had its own police force, answerable to the City Councilman.
The Central Authority worked for the Governor alone. If you were being investigated by the Central Authority, you got religion right quick. C.O.’s were notorious for being incorruptible, unstoppable, and without mercy. They were the only law enforcement that worked across the entire System—at least the only force that was authorized to do so.
I saw where we were going soon enough.
City Hall, the tallest building in Belvaille. I think it was like seventy stories tall. Or a hundred. I don’t know. I can only tilt my head so far. It used to be ten stories when I first moved to this city a lifetime ago.
We parked and the cops escorted me out of the vehicle and to the main entrance. They didn’t have any weapons that could really hurt me, but I was on a space station, and there were twenty of them. Even if I managed to get out of this by fighting, what could I do? I wouldn’t get a block away before they brought out some heavy gear and nailed me to the wall.
Presumably I was going to get framed for Ray’Ziel’s death. Or at least asked about it.
Had Garm squealed on me? Would she do that to save herself? Maybe Malla did. That was one way to get out of paying me.
The inside of City Hall was packed with officials and nobles and C.O.’s. There were no District security forces allowed in here, only Central Authority.
I hadn’t been inside the new City Hall. It was very nice. Efficient. Bustling with the sense of Things Being Done.
Not that I could really appreciate any of that as I was led into an elevator. We got out and waited. MTB looked at his tele.
“Go in when they tell you,” he said.
And he simply left, taking all his C.O.’s with him. I was alone in City Hall. On like the 50 thfloor or something. Could I just walk out?
A small man in a business suit came by.
“Would you care for something to eat or drink?” he asked. It was not what you expected to hear after being picked up by the Central Authority. I mean, I was expecting a firing squad. At least someone to mess up my hair.
“Uh, no, I’m fine. Thank you.”
The man left.
I heard a bell and a door opened to the side of me.
An older woman stepped out with a clipboard.
“Hank?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“They’re ready for you now. Please head down the hall.”
She moved out of the way so I could enter. I looked back at her for confirmation, but then the automatic door closed.
It was a long, dark tunnel. Were they going to flood it? Poison me? Use me for target practice? I moved warily to the end and almost mashed my face against the far door it was so dark.
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