The Second Sphere

The third sub-basement was dark and dry. The pale green walls glowed eerily in the dim light. The area leading to the interrogation rooms wasn’t supposed to be comforting; it was supposed to be an unpleasant place. The hope, I suppose, was that the experience would be so awful that it might cause GR flunkies to spill any and all secrets they had in their possession.

Problem was, most of them were too committed to the cause to tell us anything. Or maybe, as we always speculated, they were well-programmed. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d brought someone into this place and gotten answers to our questions. Most prisoners needed enhanced interrogation techniques applied, although such techniques rarely, if ever worked. Since the Laslow Corporation didn’t officially engage in such activity, it was almost inevitable that they would get shipped out to our facility in the Martian outback, where few, if any, ever made it out alive.

I waited in the partially lit break room, sipping on a cup of coffee enhancement just down the hall from our man who’d been dealing with Cody Beans. Malinda was in the room with me, sprawled on a worn black couch along the far wall. We waited silently for Bryant. I hoped that any moment he’d be in front of us with a brief report on this guy, which would give us an angle to approach him.

The door opened and Bryant strode through. He flopped into a silver-backed chair by the door. The whites of his eyes were somewhat red.

“And?” I asked, waiting for the report.

Bryant shook his head. He started to say something, then stopped.

“There’s nothing,” he said finally.

“Nothing?”

“He was scanned and run through all of our databases, but it seems there’s nothing there. No name, no history.”

“How’s that possible?” I asked.

“Maybe he has an erasure program.”

“I don’t think that’s what it was,” Bryant said.

“How do you know?”

“Well, because we didn’t totally find nothing.”

“You just said…”

“I meant that we didn’t find any history on this guy. But he’s got Level 9 TSG clearance,” Bryant said. I sat up in my seat. I had a Level 8 TSG clearance.

“Okay?” Malinda said.

That was pretty darned interesting, to say the least.

“You think he’s working for them?” I asked. “Or you think he’s stealing access?”

Bryant shook his head and shrugged. “I have no idea. No idea.”

“So the guy’s a ghost,” Malinda said. “How do you go at a ghost?”

“We just come at him directly,” I said. “We want to know who he works for and why he’s got that clearance.”

“We also want to know who his supplier is and anything he knows about the virus,” Bryant said. “If he’s got the blessings of JSF and TSG to conduct his business, that’s all well and good. Maybe he’s someone’s informant. But we want to know what his connection is to the virus and to Newberry’s death. We have to have those dots connected.”

Silence filled the room.

“There’s no chance that he’s going to give us any of this, is there?” Malinda asked.

“Not much of one, no,” I said.

“He’ll probably get shipped,” Bryant said. “Unless we get the TSG or JSF to vouch for him, which I doubt they’ll do.”

“And then what’ll happen to him?” Malinda asked. “When he gets shipped to Mars?”

“They’ll do whatever it takes to get any information he has,” Bryant said. He was rather casual about sending this man to a certain death. “Anyway,” he went on, “he’s already down the hall. Mind order band and everything. He’s just waiting for the two of you.”

Malinda bounded up from the couch and walked into the hallway. I paused just before I left and turned to Bryant.

“Hey,” I said, “the man who was brought in. The bitten man…”

Bryant raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Yes?”

“Len needs to be briefed as soon as possible on the virus.”

“Orion, he doesn’t have that kind of clearance,” Bryant said.

“If we don’t extend him a little professional courtesy--”

“What am I supposed to say to him, Orion? Tell him that we omitted a key piece of information from our briefing?”

“Tell him we didn’t know until now,” I said. “I don’t know. Make something up. Just tell him about the virus.”

“Clearance, Orion. The guy doesn’t have the clearance.”

“You think word about this isn’t going to get out? You think this isn’t going to spread? Once the troop gets into medical, they’ll run his chip through the database and find an association with what Luis found.”

I could almost see Bryant’s chip process these words. He studied my face for a moment, then said, “Okay. I’ll think about it.”

“Also, the troop’s going to need to wake up some time. I’d like to be there when he does,” I said.

“You’re just full of requests, aren’t you?” Bryant asked.

“Thanks, Bryant.”

“You’re welcome,” he said. “I’ll see you in about an hour.” I left the room and followed Malinda down the hallway. Malinda punched in a few numbers on the pad next to the door to cell 126, and a light flashed across her neck. The door opened, and we stepped into the cell.

The room was stark white and bright. He was a small man with wiry arms and a caramel complexion. His shiny black hair stuck straight up on his head, pushed that way by the mind order band. A thin mustache grew on his upper lip like a caterpillar. Several small scars ran along his jaw.

The mind order band wouldn’t let him move, so we weren’t in danger, but still, I kept a distance from him. I sauntered around him in a semi-circle, my steps echoing, and thought about what I needed to say, how I could dig my nails into this guy. Waiting to get information back from the Martian rendition facility could take weeks. We didn’t have that kind of time.

With the number of interrogations I’d done, I could tell just by seeing a man whether he’d talk or not. The man lowered his head, kept his eyes hidden. Before I said anything to him, I wanted to see his eyes, see what he’d be willing to tell us. After a minute, he raised his head. There was a secret in there, deep down. But I could tell that he wouldn’t talk.

“So?” I began. “Why don’t you tell us about yourself?” I slunk to the wall he leaned against and put my shoulder to it. The mind order band on top of his head flashed green and blue intermittently. The man didn’t say anything.

“You have a name? Because you sure don’t have any link to the Source or any other database.”

The man still wouldn’t say a word.

“Look at me,” I said finally. The man’s head shot up, and his eyes reflected my own anger.

“You want to tell us how you came by all those illegal transfers?” I asked. “Because they weren’t registered. That’s a serious Three Spheres offense, you know that, right?” The little man’s mouth remained still.

“How’d you manage to swing a top level TSG security clearance?” Malinda asked. She was on the other side of the man now, leaning against the wall.

He gave a jovial smile, as though everything were rosy. This little weasel enjoyed himself.

“Any chance you’d like to share what you’re thinking about?”

“Orion Cox,” the man said slowly. He let my name roll of his tongue. And then he laughed. “Orion Cox, seems to me like you would know a thing or two about illegal transfers,” he said.

I could feel Malinda’s gaze on the side of my head. The lights of the mind order band stained my vision and for a moment, all I could think about was Love and getting away from there, being in a place where I could sit by myself for a little while.

“You going to tell us how you came to be in possession of two hundred and fifty illegal transfers?” I asked again. But the man just flashed that devilish smile. “Any thoughts on telling us why you have this clearance?”

“Orion Cox,” he said again. “I was told that you’d probably be the one doing the interrogation. But this lovely creature?” he asked. “If I’d known she’d be here I would’ve taken a shower this morning.”

“Do you want to answer the questions? Or if you prefer, we could arrange to have you shipped to Mars? If that’s what you want, then we’re happy to oblige. It’s pretty cold up there this time of year, though,” I said.

The man merely toyed with us. Watching us squirm amused him.

“Where did you get the transfers?” I asked again.

“You still have no idea what’s going on?” he asked.

“This isn’t about me,” I said. “This is about you.”

“You’re clueless,” he said with a laugh.

“Did you know Victor Newberry?” I asked, suddenly. My patience was dental floss and this guy was a machete.

“Now you’re getting warmer,” he said.

“So you knew him?” I asked.

“Who doesn’t know about Victor Newberry?”

“So were you the one who inserted the virus?” Malinda asked.

The man didn’t say anything.

“I told you before that people who don’t tell us what we want to know end up on Mars,” I said. “You’d prefer to go there?”

His head snapped up. “I know what happens to people who don’t talk in the box. Everyone knows what happens to people who don’t talk in the box.”

“Tell us about this virus,” Malinda said.

“That’s above your pay grade,” the man said.

He’d taken over, and now we broke the way that he wanted us to break. There was nothing I could do to stop the pressure in my chest. The anger was there and wouldn’t go away. I stood in front of him, ready to put my hands around his throat. But Malinda moved first.

She leaned over, grabbed him by the neck, and lifted him.

“Listen to me, you piece of shit. Don’t sit here and pretend like we don’t know what you are. You know what they hook you up to on Mars? You know the pain you’ll go through when they take the information from your chip?” she asked.

“I already know what pain is,” the man said, as spit flew from his mouth. They were so close that I thought Malinda might kiss him. But instead, she pulled him up by the neck so his feet were off the ground and tossed him like a horseshoe. His head slammed into the far wall and his body slid down, until he lay awkwardly wedged in the corner of the cell. Malinda walked casually to the man and dealt a solid kick to his stomach. “You sure you don’t have anything to say?”

The man groaned. She kicked him hard in the face. Then he stopped moving. With another kick, she could have dislodged his chip, but I grabbed her by the shoulders.

“You want to take it easy?” I asked. I bent down and put my hand on the man’s neck. He had a weak pulse. “I’m calling a medic,” I said. “This one’s got too much information on him. He needs to be talking when he gets to Mars.” I stood, unlocked the door, and went into the hallway. Malinda followed close. The cell door closed.

We stood in the dry, dark hallway for a moment.

“How did he know your name, Orion?” Malinda asked. She crossed her arms, waiting for an answer.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I have no idea. Maybe Cody mentioned me.”

“That’s not good, Orion,” she said. “This guy gets sent to Mars? Starts saying your name to people? Insinuating things? You’d better be ready for some questions. As it is, it’s going to be put in the write up for the interview.” She arched her eyebrows. “Something you want to tell me?”

There was absolutely nothing I wanted to tell her. I felt little pins in the back of my neck and wished I could be back at the Source with everything that made me feel good, get away from this horrible reality, tell my daughter that I’d get the next transport home.

I walked away to call the medic and left Malinda standing by herself. The man in the cell knew too much about me. Cody Beans was dead. But Malinda was right. My problems were only beginning.