Freelance On The Galactic Tunnel Network by E. Foner (best beach reads of all time TXT) 📗

Her employer is trying to cover it up, so she smuggled herself out on a supply ship and caught a ride here with a trader coming to Rendezvous.”

“Liz gave me a data dump on their operations that I already transmitted to Clive at Union Station,” John said. “Is she okay?”

“She wasn’t injured, but I don’t think she’d slept in days. We gave her a cabin and Flower is keeping an eye on her.”

“She’s snoring,” the Dollnick AI reported.

Semmi began thwacking her tail on the deck when the cafeteria doors slid open to admit Myort, but she remained at John’s side. The Huktra winked at his friend, and then produced a chit which he offered to the captain with both hands, being careful to keep the talons from scratching Woojin.

“Greetings from Huktra Intelligence,” Myort said. “I’ve been informed that you are the contact point for all alien intelligence agents stationed on Flower, and although I’m just visiting, I thought it would be appropriate to present my credentials.”

“Welcome aboard,” the captain responded formally. “I’m afraid I’m not carrying a card to exchange. Clive, I mean, the director of EarthCent Intelligence, told me that you’re interested in establishing relations.”

“We got the idea from the Drazens,” Myort said. “Although your intelligence-sharing relationship with them is somewhat one-sided, your species is up-and-coming, and you do produce the occasional surprising tidbit that the rest of us overlook.”

“I didn’t know that Drazens and Huktra were on such close terms,” Woojin said.

“It’s complicated. Our respective leaderships have little interest in official relations beyond the minimum required by the tunnel network treaty, but Herl helped me avoid a serious error some time back, and I’ve been looking for a chance to reciprocate.”

“The director of Drazen Intelligence did you a favor and you want to reciprocate by cooperating with EarthCent Intelligence?”

“Perhaps I should start from the beginning. I’ve been monitoring certain Drazen communications—”

“You’re spying on them?” John interrupted.

“Spying has such a negative connotation,” Myort complained. “Let’s just say I was sampling some poorly encrypted communications between Drazen businesses on Earth and their field headquarters.”

“That’s how you’re repaying Herl’s favor? Remind me not to get on your good side.”

“The truth is, favors are dangerous things in our line of work, and Herl would rather keep me in his debt. I merely took the liberty of looking for a way to repay him. If the Drazens want to keep me from reading their correspondence, they should upgrade their technology.”

“Which EarthCent Intelligence security is based on,” John commented dryly.

“Yes, there’s that,” Myort allowed. “To make a long story short, I discovered that the Drazen businesses operating on Earth were concerned about the level of criminality and lack of law enforcement in many regions where their suppliers operate, and this was especially the case with Drazen Foods. My own species has yet to establish an official presence on Earth, so I decided to visit and plant a few seeds, if you know what I mean.”

“You told me you went to Earth for a restaurant package tour.”

“And you believed me? In any case, I was able to pass myself off among your lawless element as a fugitive from justice, and I focused on acquiring sources inside organizations that Drazen Intelligence had flagged for investigation by your Earth law-enforcement.”

“You tried to jump the line by hiring informers.”

“That’s a less elegant way of putting it.” Myort produced a standard memory chip and handed it to Woojin. “I’m afraid a holographic recording was beyond my source’s ability, but I think you’ll find the flat video acceptable in this case.”

A panel popped open just to the right of the kitchen door, and Flower instructed Woojin, “Slot the memory in the media interface and I’ll project it.”

“Never knew that was there,” the captain muttered, and after a brief examination, he located the receptacle size that matched the chip. The lights in the room dimmed, and then a grainy image appeared on one of the walls.

“Sorry about the low resolution,” Myort said. “My source was attending this meeting undercover and recorded it with a hidden camera in her hairpin.”

“I’ll do a little interpolation and apply a few filters,” Flower said, and the still image improved noticeably. “I could shrink the projection area to sharpen the image further, but I’ve already skipped ahead and reviewed the contents, and I think you’ll find the audio more interesting than the video.”

“My source also has some training materials from the presentation that I told her to send to the EarthCent President’s office so they can forward it to Union Station in the diplomatic bag,” Myort added.

The video began to play, and a friendly man in an expensive suit took his place behind the lectern. “Welcome back to our retraining program,” he began. “I’m Gregory, and I’ll be handling the afternoon session. I hope you enjoyed your lunch in the executive cafeteria, and if you work hard in the field, you may soon find yourself promoted to management and eating there on a daily basis. All of you should now have a starter kit that includes your business cards, our company manual, a Horten pocket-paralyzer, a company tab, and a checklist for repossessions. Please take a moment to do an inventory and make sure your kit is complete.”

“Why does the sign on our building say Triad Financial Services, but according to my business card, I’m a field representative for MORE?” somebody asked.

“I’m glad you noticed,” the presenter said, and taking up a stylus, repeated out loud what he printed on the large display panel. “MORE – Make Owners REnters. There, ladies and gentlemen, you have our philosophy in a nutshell. Humanity’s progress as a space-faring civilization has been slowed by the stubbornness and inefficiency of our only transportation infrastructure, namely independent traders flying second-hand ships purchased from aliens. It’s our goal, or perhaps I should say, our