Hailey's Comet Anthology Read online

  Trip looked at the agent, not sure if she was serious or not. “Well, if it bothers you, you can call me Artie.”

  “It doesn’t bother me, Mr. Kinkade. It’s just not logical.”

  “Artie.”

  “If you insist.”

  “I insist.” Artie shook his head in amusement. “Please, Agent Ramirez, come into my sitting room. Let’s get acquainted.”

  Hailey followed him through a grand arch that separated the foyer from the sitting room. They each took seats facing each other and Hailey started the meeting. “Artie,” she forced herself to say, “I’d like to get your list of specifications so I can tell you about what possibilities are available to you. There’s one asteroid that started to be developed – DN5714 – but was later abandoned. I think it may fit your needs.”

  “Can I offer you a refreshment? Something cool to drink, perhaps?” Artie offered.

  Hailey studied him. His pupils were normal; his heartrate, normal; his skin temperature showed no sign of discomfort or anger; his posture was relaxed, and his voice confident. She was not sure why he delayed the start of the meeting. “No, thank you,” she replied. “Your specs, please?”

  “Agent Ramirez, may I call you Hailey?”

  “I prefer not,” Hailey replied. Her various names were attached to different parts of her life: people from SWORD used her code name, Comet. People she served called her Agent Ramirez. Only her mother called her Hailey, and Hailey preferred to keep it that way.

  “Oh,” Artie replied. “Professional detachment, I suppose.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Oh, dear. We have some backsliding, I fear. You agreed to call me Artie.”

  “Can we please proceed beyond the subject of names?” Hailey asked.

  “Look, Agent Ramirez, I figure we’re going to be spending some time together. We might as well be friendly about it, don’t you agree?”

  “I did not anticipate spending much time together. When I have your specs, I can tell you which asteroids match, and when you choose one, I will personally survey the roc-, uh, property, to make sure it will support an environment that will suit you.”

  “Really? That’s how this will go?”

  “Your family is well-versed in purchasing real estate. Is this not how your real estate agents perform their duties?”

  “Well, we like to see the properties for ourselves…” Artie replied feebly.

  It didn’t take a Wraith to spot his lie. “Mr. Kinkade, if you want to make the best purchase possible, you must refrain from lying to me. Forty-seven percent of your family’s acquisitions were finalized with no one from the Kinkade family setting foot on the planet where the properties were located.”

  “Forty-seven percent?” Artie asked. “Are you sure?”

  “My calculations are accurate assuming I’ve been given all of the data.”

  “Well, I see there’s no fooling you,” he said sheepishly. “OK, here’s the thing: I’d really like to get away from my regular life for a while. You know, the fan-girls who only like me for my money, the press with their endless string of fabricated stories about me, the pressure from Dad to join the family business…”

  “Mr. Kinkade, what is your real purpose in hiring SWORD?” Hailey asked.

  He sighed. “I want a change of pace. I want to take a trip out to the Belt and hide for a little while.”

  “Why involve SWORD? Surely you have multiple ships that can make such a voyage.”

  “I want company.”

  Hailey stood. “I am not in the escort business. Good day, Mr. Kinkade.”

  “No! No, please don’t go. I really am in the market for an asteroid, but I was hoping to go along for the ride, see something new, y’know? Get away from it all.”

  Hailey studied him. She returned to her seat. “Let’s get something straight. This is not a luxury vacation. Navigating the Belt is hazardous. Scouting an asteroid is not a stroll through the park. Have you ever done an EVA in a space-rated suit?”

  Artie shook his head.

  “Then you’ll be staying on board. Again, I ask you, what’s the point? It will be more efficient for me to go for you, not with you.”

  “I see. Well, what’s wrong with me just going along for the ride, and you still scout the rock?”

  “The property?” Hailey asked.

  “The property’s a rock. I know that. Let’s not be pretentious. It’s a rock in space. Even when it gets terraformed, it’ll be a rock for a long time before anyone can walk on it without a suit.”

  “What is the property for?” Hailey asked.

  “Well, that’s something I’m not at liberty to divulge.”

  Hailey tensed. She didn’t like holes in her mission information. “Mr. Kinkade, I don’t like secrets. If you’re not willing to give answers to my questions, I’m afraid you’ll have to find someone else to fulfil this mission.”

  “Please, Hailey,” he started. She raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, Agent Ramirez. Forgive me. I’ll answer your questions. It took so long to make this arrangement with the DPD. Let’s not quit before we even get started.”

  “What is the property for?” Hailey repeated.

  Artie wrung his hands. “It’s a hideout, of sorts.”

  “What are you hiding from?” she asked.

  “Like I told you before: the press, the groupies,” he said, adding softly, “the family…”

  “You wish to hide from your family?”

  “You don’t know what it’s like. They have expectations. I have duties. I just want to get away from all the pressure.”

  Hailey stared at the man. What did he know of expectations, duty, and pressure? As a Wraith, SWORD expected miracles of Hailey daily, she was duty-bound to serve the Empire for at least forty years, and many days, scores of lives depended on her fulfilling her missions. Poor rich man, Hailey thought sarcastically.

  “Mr. Kinkade, SWORD expects me to complete this mission. Although I consider this mission to be a wasteful diversion of my efforts to serve the citizens of the Empire who are truly in need of my service, I will do my duty and fulfil my mission so I can get back to the real missions for which I’ve been trained.”

  Artie looked injured, then regained his composure and confidence. “Agent Ramirez, SWORD – like everything else – runs on points, I assume. I am not only paying to purchase an asteroid in the Belt, I’m paying a generous amount to retain an agent to be my… uh, agent. Obviously, SWORD needs the money, or they would not have sent you. C’mon. Let’s cooperate. This is good for both of us – for SWORD and the citizens of the Empire, too.”

  Hailey knew that without her LM, she would be furious for the condescending way Artie Kinkade pointed out that SWORD had contracted her out to him because he could pay the exorbitant price. She was grateful for the LM which stopped her from walking out of the mansion that very second, failing her mission before it started. “My ship is big enough for one; I travel alone.”

  Artie softened. “Please, Agent Ramirez. Take one of my transports. I even have compression-capable craft. Take your pick. But will you please take me along? I won’t cause you any trouble. I promise.”

  Ram had requested Hailey for this mission because he wanted her to act in a friendly manner towards the client. If Artie wanted to travel, it wasn’t a huge inconvenience for Hailey. She forced her face to soften as well. “Do you have a pilot, or shall I pilot the craft?”

  Artie smiled broadly. “You just relax. I have a pilot.”

  “I’ll relax if your pilot is good enough to navigate the Belt,” she replied.

  “Excellent! Great! OK, we’ll leave in the morning. We’ll take the Emerald. It has everything we’ll need on board, and it’s compression capable. I’ll make arrangements,” he said, pulling out his pocket communication device.

  “We’ll need a destination, which brings us back to the question: what are your specs?”

  Artie sat back in his expensive chair and smiled. “DN5714 sounds good.”
/>   The next day, the Wraith and the Client were aboard his yacht, Emerald, entering a compression field that would take them on a jump to the far side of the solar system. Artie invited Hailey to relax with him in the lounge of the craft, a well-appointed private bar, complete with bartender and chef.

  “I insist you eat something. I know I’m hungry,” Artie said with a smile.

  “I accept your kind offer,” Hailey replied neutrally.

  “Good. What would you like?”

  “What are the options?”

  “Anything you want! We’re completely stocked with fresh meats and produce, dairy and grains. Choose anything; the chef is fantastic.”

  As long as Rich Man the Third was footing the bill, Hailey ordered a steak dinner. As they ate, they conversed casually. “Agent Ramirez, I hope you’ll take this opportunity to relax. You must work awfully hard most of the time. Now you have some time on a luxury yacht with no work to do. Take a break!”

  “I’ve just spent one-point-two-one weeks in compression aboard a jumper shuttle. I’m quite rested, thank you.”

  “Yeah, but there’s nothing to work on here, so you might as well enjoy yourself,” Artie persisted.

  “What do you suggest I do?” she asked her host.

  “Well, anything you like, I suppose. I have an extensive vid collection and a small theater for viewing them. There’s a game room with several options, like billiards, chess, monodon, to name a few. Of course, the bar is always available to you. We have several view ports. Perhaps we can spot some interesting celestial bodies once we’re out of compression.”

  “Thank you for the options. Perhaps I’ll take advantage of the amenities.”

  “I hope you’ll be interested in the game room. I’m dying to play some chess.”

  After dinner, they proceeded to the game room where Artie talked Hailey into a chess match. “Let me access the rules. I’ll be right with you,” she said, pausing for a few moments. “OK, ready.”

  “You’ve never played chess? But you’re ready? How did you learn in the last four seconds?”

  “My database is well stocked with social and historical information. I just had to review the rules and the goal of the game. If you give me a minute, I can go through a few strategy articles.”

  “Go for it,” Artie replied, astonished. “Mind telling me how you do that?”

  “I have a temporal data node implanted in my head. I can recall anything I’ve ever seen, heard, smelled, tasted –”

  “An implant? Are those commercially available, or is it a SWORD exclusive?” Artie asked.

  “As far as I know, only SWORD has the technology.”

  “As far as you know… But you probably know everything, if you can remember everything you’ve ever read or heard.”

  “I haven’t read every book and news feed that ever came out. I have a general knowledge of many things, and when I get a specific mission, I am supplied the additional materials I’ll need to achieve the goal.”

  “Really. Were you supplied with additional materials for this mission?”

  “Of course.”

  “Like what? What was relevant from books and news feeds about me wanting to buy an asteroid?”

  “History of the asteroid belt development and colonization, protocols established by the DPD for obtaining licenses to own asteroids, history of the Kinkade family and their businesses, recent news feeds about said family, biography of Artemis Kinkade III, comparative analyses of the financial, educational, physical, psychological, and emotional states of similar individuals throughout history – to help predict your reactions to various scenarios – bios of everyone you’ve socialized with over the past six months, …”

  “OK, OK, I get it. Please stop.” Artie ran a hand down his face. “I guess you know everything there is to know about me, huh?”

  “Yes. If I offended you, I apologize.”

  “No, not offended. Embarrassed, I think. Everyone has episodes in their past they’d rather avoid becoming public knowledge.”

  “I assure you, I do not spread private information, or public information, for that matter, about individuals I’ve researched.”

  “You must think I’m some kind of gigolo… all those women I’ve dated.”

  “On the contrary, a gigolo is a man who provides ongoing sexual relations for financial support or gifts from a female. Your companions are the gigolos. Or, gigolas, perhaps. There is a debate on the proper female version of the word.”

  Artie laughed. “Then what am I?” he asked.

  “I believe the colloquial term is ‘John.’”

  Artie stopped laughing. “That turned ugly all of a sudden.”

  “I apologize. Perhaps you’d rather be called a ‘sugar daddy,’ but assuming there’s a sexual component to your ‘dates,’ that’s not quite as accurate.”

  “Let’s change the subject.” Artie pointed at the chess board. “You go first.” They played a few moves in silence. “Well,” Artie said at last, trying to downplay his humiliation, “you know a lot about me. Tell me something about you.”

  “I am an agent of SWORD. I’ve been in the field for thirteen years. I’ve successfully completed six hundred and thirty-nine missions –”

  “That’s all very interesting – impressive, really. But I’d like to know about Ms. Ramirez, not Agent Ramirez.”

  “I do not discuss my personal life with anyone,” Hailey said flatly.

  “Oh, c’mon. You know every smutty detail of my life. That’s not fair.”

  “I use the information I’ve collected to perform this mission to the best of my abilities. You have no need to know anything about me.”

  “Don’t you have any friends you talk to about personal things?” Artie asked, sliding his bishop diagonally across the board.

  “A few.”

  “So, I caught you in a lie, Ms. Ramirez. You said you don’t discuss your personal life with anyone.”

  “Agent Ramirez, if you please. The people with whom I share personal conversations are part of my personal life, so I will not discuss them, consistent with my statement that I don’t discuss my personal life.”

  Artie chuckled. “Are all agents of SWORD as disciplined as you?”

  “Yes.”

  Artie raised his eyebrows. “There’s no one who’s… say… ordinary?”

  “Wraiths are highly trained to be extraordinary.”

  “Wraiths? What does that mean?”

  “You didn’t know you had contracted a Wraith for this mission?”

  “SWORD agent. That’s all they said. I figured you’re some subsidiary of the DPD, or a partnering agency or something.”

  “SWORD working for or with the Department of Planetoid Development? You’ve never heard of SWORD? Special Warfare Operations and Reconnaissance Division of the UOE government, independent and above EURO, the Navy, and every other military or security division in the Empire,” Hailey retorted haughtily.

  “Yet, you need to sell me a space boulder to make payroll this month,” Artie mumbled.

  Hailey felt her temperature rise by point three degrees. Her limbic monitor didn’t kill all emotions; it just reined them way in so they were more like background static, uninteresting and unimportant. The LM suppressed her fury instantly. “I will have you check-mated in three more moves. Do you wish to surrender?”

  Artie looked up in surprise. “You’ve never played before!”

  “I’m a quick study,” she said, locking eyes with her opponent.

  “What kind of training—. Uh, what’s a Wraith?” Artie asked, intimidated by her penetrating stare.

  “Elite special operatives, enhanced and trained to complete every mission successfully, serving the citizens of the Empire with honor.”

  “Is that right out of the brochure?” Artie asked.

  “What brochure?” Hailey replied.

  “Did they extract your sense of humor to fit in those brain enhancements?”

  Hailey grew weary of the
pointless conversation. “If you’d like to know more about SWORD or Wraiths, I invite you to read the information that is available on the UOE Ultranet. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll retire to my quarters.”

  Artie stood, gentlemanly, bidding her good night and watching her exit the game room.

  Hailey locked the door of her guest suite. She removed the civilian clothes she wore and, in her underwear, performed the “stretch and sketch” routine she learned at the Scabbard when she was a trainee.

  Something about Artie-the-third bothered her. He said he was embarrassed when she mentioned all the women he dated, but his bio-signs told her something different. He wasn’t self-conscious. He was, rather, self-satisfied. Hailey pondered the contradiction as she stretched and relaxed her muscles.

  A Not-so-empty Yacht

  On the third day of the journey, Hailey wandered the Kinkade yacht. She had no reason to do so, except boredom. There were no more preparations to be made, no reason to converse with the asteroid buyer, and nothing to be gained from discussions with the crew. It was odd, she thought, that on all the transports she had taken over the past dozen years, she had never become bored before.

  The Emerald was a luxurious ship, but despite her usual irritation with the inferior mental and physical capacities of marines, she longed for a ride on a UOE jumper shuttle with marines and Navy crew members for company. At least they had a purpose. Artie not only had inferior mental and physical capacities like all non-Wraiths did, he compounded his inferiority with an absurd insistence that he personally insure Hailey’s comfort and pleasure, as if she were a guest on his vessel. She wandered the ship mostly to get away from him.

  As she wandered, she came upon a guest suite that had its door slightly ajar. She heard voices inside. One was Artie’s. She passed by, not trying to eavesdrop, but hearing the conversation nonetheless.

  “Anything else you need, sugarplum?” Artie asked.

  “I’d like to get out of this cabin, Trip. How about letting me explore the yacht?”

  “I told you, sweetness, I have business guests on the ship. Remember, I told you, you could only come along if you’re willing to stay put. Don’t you have enough fun things to do in here?”