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  “Then transmit the images. The Passiss and the Skabrins are already beginning their investigations.”

  “Not yet. I want assurances.”

  “This is no time for jokes. Transmit the images, now.”

  “You’ll get nothing until I am on a transport back to Earth.”

  This time, the delay lasted nearly twenty minutes.

  “It’s been arranged. When you arrive at Passis, board the Reyv’al immediately. It will bring you home. Maintain cover at all times. End communication.”

  Nigel sat back and sighed. As it was, he was beginning to dislike being a secret agent. But being a free agent was even less savory, because he didn’t have much to bargain with. He was going to be glad when this was all over.

  #

  Back on Earth, Nigel was surprised to find his next meeting with Hughes was not in a back alley in the dead of night, for a change. Instead, Nigel stood alone in a high-speed elevator on his way to the thirty-first floor of the New Fairmont Hotel.

  The air smelled faintly of a mixture of French perfumes and new carpet, lingering as a reminder of the wealthy guests that had last ridden the elevator and the fact that this luxury hotel was less than two months old.

  The delightful perfume was alluring – Nigel felt he could really enjoy a life of luxury. On the other hand, the smell of new carpet reminded him that he, too, was new – new to success, new to associating with people of power, new to any kind of affluence. It evoked memories of helping his blue-collar uncle install floor coverings as a teenager back home in England. His upbringing left him torn between a quiet resentment for the rich, and an even quieter, yet stronger aspiration to become one of them himself.

  A pleasant chime indicated the elevator’s arrival at the appointed floor, and Nigel stepped out as the doors parted. A very large, bald Asian man in a dark business suit ushered Nigel to an empty, dimly-lit conference room and shut the door, leaving Nigel alone to stare out the floor-to-ceiling window at the lights of the city.

  “Spectacular view, isn’t it?” said a voice from behind Nigel. He’d not even heard Hughes enter the room.

  “It is, said Nigel. “Why am I here to enjoy it?”

  “Straight to business it is, then,” said Hughes, taking a seat at the head of the conference table – a long oval with a black, shiny top polished to perfection.

  Nigel sat at the opposite end in one of the cushy, high-backed chairs. “Yes. Why am I here?”

  “Well, Halsted, I think you know at least part of the answer to that question. You broke protocol on the Skabrin mission. You disobeyed orders.”

  “And you used me!” Nigel said, glaring. “You lied to me and manipulated me into doing your dirty work. I don’t appreciate that.”

  “All the work is dirty, Halsted. That’s why it takes special people like us to do it. You had a mission. That’s all that mattered.”

  “You sent me off to assassinate someone! That matters!” said Nigel.

  “We sent you to effect a certain change in the negotiations between the Passiss and a hostile entity. The accidental death of the Skabrin achieved that end.”

  “It was no accident!” Nigel yelled.

  “You won’t be doing yourself any favors by broadcasting that point of view, Halsted,” Hughes said calmly. “In two hundred years, nobody will care whether Corporal Nigel Halsted killed some obscure Skabrin diplomat on a remote asteroid on purpose or by accident, or whether he sat down and played a chess game with him. All that will matter is that the people of earth, and future generations, are safer as a result of our action.”

  “So, you can see the future, eh?”

  “We’ve been doing this for a very, very long time, Halsted. And our analysts have a remarkable ability to predict outcomes. If that weren’t true, you wouldn’t be sitting in this room today, now would you?”

  Nigel seethed in silence. His head bowed slightly, he looked out at Hughes from under his knotted brow, feeling more and more like a pawn. “So, what has been the ‘outcome’ of my mission?”

  “It’s still early in the game, but it appears the Passiss have lost the trust of the Skabrin faction they were negotiating with. There’s every indication that the non-aggression treaty will be a non-starter. Skabrins don’t quickly forget what they consider foul play. Meanwhile, there are indications that the Passiss will turn their efforts to adding a human presence to the playing field – bring us on as more of a partner, and begin to shore up support from some of their other allies. We’ll be introduced to those allies as an equal partner, instead of some pet project of the Passiss.”

  “All this because I killed that Skabrin?”

  “Of course not, Halsted. There were several other components in play. Your part was key, but it was not the only ingredient. That’s all I can tell you.”

  While Nigel stewed, Hughes sat back and studied the young SpaceForce officer. “Your disobedience aside, I want to personally congratulate you on a job well done, Halsted. You performed strongly in a difficult situation. I believe our faith in you was well-placed.”

  Nigel looked up at Hughes and pushed his chin out. “Well, I believe my faith in you and your organization was poorly placed. This will be my last assignment – I’m out.”

  Hughes said nothing. Instead, he stood and strolled to the picture window. Nigel could see Hughes’ reflection as he gazed out over the city. He spoke without turning to face Nigel.

  “You may take a sabbatical – to think things over – but nobody simply leaves our organization. This is not a country club, Halsted. Your allegiance to us is non-negotiable. And your confidence is expected – you will never speak of us, or of any of your experiences with us. As far as you’re concerned, you’ve never heard of the Skabrins, never been to Passis, never met me. Understood?”

  From what Nigel knew of this group, they had no need to back up their demands with explicit threats. He was certain that if he stepped out of line, he would quietly disappear. He was just glad to be offered this “sabbatical” as a temporary way out. How temporary was yet to be seen.

  “Understood.”

  Hughes remained facing the window, and Nigel stood up to leave the room.

  “And Halsted,” Hughes said, causing Nigel to pause in mid-step, “we’ll be keeping an eye on you. You can expect some changes in your life in the next few months, including a promotion. And I wouldn’t be surprised if you wound up serving aboard the Discovery under Captain Weatherly.”

  “I don’t want your charity. I want to know that I’ve earned my promotions by myself, thank you very much.”

  “Well, you never will know, Halsted. And never forget that you’re one of us. Never.”

  Nigel’s eyes bored into the back of Hughes’ head. He felt like he could rush the man and shove him right through the huge window. Instead, he exhaled slowly, left the room, and wondered if he would ever be free of this group again.

  THE END

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