|
|
Malko Salteri was beginning to think that the room was intended to break his spirit as well.
Shackled to the chair in front of him was an old Narn, K’Dar. K’Dar had been suspected of leading a resistance cell in the Narn city of Nazarr; in fact, though he had dealt with the resistance, he had no detailed knowledge of their operations. K’Dar was merely the town librarian; a minor civil functionary with no power before and less now. His scan of the Narn had confirmed that.
"Guard, take this one back to the holding cell," Malko ordered. "Tell Colonel Jamero that he knows nothing."
The guard bowed and unshackled K’Dar, leading him at gunpoint away from the interrogation cell. No sooner than K’Dar had been escorted out than another hapless Narn, somewhat younger than K’Dar, was brought in by a second guard and shackled to the chair.
This Narn, an adolescent female, somehow looked even more innocuous than K’Dar, but Malko knew better. Resistance, he had been told, had been known to show up in the most surprising places. He began the scan.
Some interrogators were extremely brutal with their methods; Malko never had been. He had studied Human culture and learned about a time-honored tradition of their law enforcement agencies called good cop/bad cop. Sometimes, by appearing reasonable and conciliatory, he could elicit information from the most stubborn of detainees who would otherwise resist to their dying breath. Besides, secretly Malko admired the Narn; they still had that spark of life which the historians claimed his own race once had.
In fact, since coming to the Narn Homeworld with the occupation forces, Malko had seen a lot about his own race he wasn’t sure he wanted to be associated with. And he’d had a part in it. A very large part.
He projected his thoughts toward the Narn girl. "Relax, and don’t try to fight. I can get the information I need in any case, but it will be much, much less unpleasant if you don’t fight me. What is your name?"
The Narn looked at him with some uncertainty. "Ko’Lan," she responded.
"Very good. Do you live in the town of Nazarr? What do you know of the goings-on there?"
Malko sensed the inner turmoil within Ko’Lan’s mind. He didn’t need to do a deep scan to learn that she not only knew of the resistance, but was also very heavily involved with the resistance. Ko’Lan was a courier who knew the names and locations of five principal resistance leaders. Such information would certainly break the Nazarr cell and lead to Malko’s immediate promotion.
"I am from Nazarr, but I don’t get out much since—your people came. It just isn’t safe," Ko’Lan lied. Had Malko not been a telepath, he would have almost been convinced.
"Ko’Lan, I know you’re lying. Don’t try to hide from me. I know that you’re involved in the resistance. Tell me what you know!" Malko projected. To emphasize his point, he made a slight mental push on Ko’Lan’s mind—nothing harmful, but certainly enough to get her attention.
Immediately Malko regretted what he did. The Narn girl grimaced in pain, as if she was trying to keep her brains from exploding. Though no grown Narn would ever show weakness even among other Narns, much less the hated Centauri, Ko’Lan was not grown. She was still very young, and very frightened. She broke down and cried.
The suspicions Malko had been feeling for some time finally came to the forefront. This is wrong, he thought. I never wanted to use my powers to hurt children! What is wrong with me?
"It’s okay, child. I will not harm you again. In fact, I think you can help me."
Ko’Lan looked up at him. "What do you want of me?" she asked plaintively.
"I wish to defect. Do you know what that means?"
"No, I have no idea what you’re talking about," Ko’Lan answered. Either she really didn’t know, or she was putting on a good show. Since Ko’Lan, like all Narns, had no telepathic ability, there was really only one way Malko could know.
He scanned her very lightly and discovered that she knew exactly what he was saying, but had her doubts.
"I am tired of what they make me do to your people. If I continue I fear that my soul is in jeopardy. I will tell the guard that you know nothing and to have you sent home. In return, I want you to pass this information along to any of the five people you’re currently running messages for: the Centauri telepath Malko Salteri wants to defect and join the resistance. Can you do this for me?"
"I understand," she said simply. Malko scanned again and learned that she comprehended completely and was doing all she could to hide her amazement. This one’s a sharp operator, Malko thought. May the gods have pity on all of us if the leaders of the resistance are as cunning as this one!
"Guard, inform the Colonel that this one knows nothing; she was caught out after curfew—a simple child’s mistake. She is to be returned to her home at once!" Malko ordered. "And tell him that if he wants me to find the source of the resistance he must do better than old men and children!" As an officer in the Intelligence Directorate, Malko had great authority and could afford to be insubordinate to anyone short of the Emperor. As a telepath in the Intelligence Directorate, Malko’s influence was that much more of a threat. The guard, however, had no such influence, but Malko figured he was reasonably intelligent and would not deign to say something which would at least end his career, if not his life.
The guard bowed and led Ko’Lan away. The day’s work done, Malko retired to his quarters to sleep. Telepathic work with aliens could be extremely draining.
Four hours later a knock on the door woke Malko. He opened it to find the old Narn janitor who serviced the headquarters compound. The janitor handed him a folded note, bowed, and went about his rounds. Malko opened the note. It was written in the right-to-left sacred writing of the Narn—something most Centauri would not be able (or willing) to read, but which an intelligence agent would have intimate knowledge of.
"Your hour of liberation is at hand—expect a visitor within two days," the note read.
Malko breathed an exhausted sigh of relief. And it never
occurred to him that the janitor might possibly be a resistance cell member.
At least, Malko didn’t let it occur to him…
White Star 29 was on station in hyperspace just beyond the jumpgate leading to the Narn homeworld, hiding behind a fold in the geometry of space created by the ship’s mysterious Vorlon technology to prevent discovery by the Centauri pickets near the gate.
Durenn stood at the front of the briefing room, addressing a group of twenty Rangers which included his young protégé, the Human John Bagley.
"Fellow anla’shok, this is a most unusual mission. We have received information through one of our contacts in the resistance that a Centauri intelligence agent wishes to defect. The Narn feel that this man," Durenn paused as the image of a young Centauri officer appeared on the screen behind him, "Malko Salteri, could be a major asset to the resistance. Like most Centauri intelligence agents, Malko is a telepath—ranked at approximately Scale 5 on the Centauri telepath rating scale, which is roughly equivalent to a Human P12. Our sources indicate that Malko’s primary responsibility was the interrogation of captured Narn resistance fighters to determine their bases of supply and operation.
"Regrettably, we have no telepaths in the area to assist us in infiltrating the sector command headquarters where Malko is posted. Our Narn allies are obviously incapable of infiltrating the base in large numbers; we haven’t heard from our contact in the past 24 hours and he may well have been detained or worse. Minbari would be far too conspicuous. Therefore, the team must consist entirely of Humans disguised as Centauri.
"After reviewing your training records and dossiers, we have chosen Anla’shok Bagley to perform the extraction. His knowledge of the Centauri language is sufficient to allow him to pass as a native speaker, and his family’s prior dealings with the Centauri have familiarized him with their customs. Basilone and Puller will liaison with the Narn resistance cell at the town of Nazarr, 15 kilometers north of sector command headquarters." The view on the screen changed to a map, indicating the location of the headquarters complex and the town of Nazarr. The area was in a heavily mountainous region of the Narn homeworld, once one of the few regions of the homeworld which still boasted old-growth temperate rain forests. Now, like the rest of the planet, it was a desolate wasteland, burnt-out stumps all that remained of the once-majestic trees which graced the province’s slopes. "Basilone and Puller will cooperate with the leader of the local resistance cell in distracting Centauri patrols long enough for Bagley to enter the base and emerge with Malko. It is now 2000 hours. Bagley, Basilone, and Puller will review the briefing materials provided to their individual terminals and assemble at the shuttle bay at 0600 hours. The rest of you may return to your stations," Durenn finished. "We live for the One, we die for the One," he announced, recapitulating the ancient Ranger doxology.
"In Valen’s Name," the assembled Rangers responded as they stood as a unit, then dispersed.
John returned to his quarters, shared with another Ranger currently on assignment. He found stacked at the foot of his tilted Minbari-style bunk a bundle of clothing topped by a helmet—a Centauri uniform, that of a low-ranking infantry officer. Bagley looked at the rank insignia and identicard. Good, he thought. High enough rank for access, but low enough to be inconspicuous. He also found a data crystal, and groaned inwardly at the thought of studying.
Though John had loved his time at the University of Titan, it was more for the atmosphere than for the serious pursuit of academics (not that U.T. was known for being an academically rigorous school). For most of his life he had envied his older brother Robert, who had joined the Earthforce Marines rather than go on to college. His sister, Susan, had embraced the academic life with gusto but went on to become a QA technician at a data crystal programming facility; so John’s parents were insistent that he must also attend college so he could run the family business. The import/export business was interesting to John, but he wanted to be the one actually doing the importing and exporting, rather than the one filing the customs paperwork and running the warehouses. Why must I be the one to have to sacrifice my dreams for others? I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for what President Clark was doing to the university—not that that was my idea to begin with!
With resignation (and with irony, noting that Robert probably had to do the same thing), John plugged the data crystal into its receptacle on the reader and began reviewing the information garnered by the Rangers’ resistance contact. Schematics of the sector command headquarters, including where Salteri was quartered; likely access points to the facility; and guard shift changes (even including posts where guards had been disciplined for being inattentive!) John was very impressed with the depth of detail their contact had included and concluded that either Centauri security wasn’t all that great, or that the Narns had managed to get someone inside. Or, the suspicious side of John thought, we’re being set up.
John changed from his Ranger garb into the Centauri uniform, leaving off the boots and helmet (at least he didn’t have to use that disgusting concoction the Centauri used to keep their hair up!) and lay down on his bed. Sleeping fully-clothed was a custom of the Minbari warrior caste which the Rangers had inherited; it would not do for a warrior to be caught with his pants down, much less off!
Though John had assisted on many missions, they had usually been
with Durenn or another, more experienced Ranger. This was the first
mission which was truly his. Basilone and Puller were initiates; no more
experienced at the fine art of being an anla’shok than he had been
six months earlier. John only hoped that the two newbies had been
at least as well prepared by their mentors as Durenn had prepared him.
The training John received back on Minbar had been physically and mentally
grueling, and often seemingly brutal and cruel. Of course, the Centauri
were not generally noted for kindness to prisoners; the allies of the Shadows,
even less so.
