Chapter 10
The pretentious vaulted ceiling and crystalline walls of the Ridderth Council Hall echoed the amplified voice of the Council Leader.
“Does the honorable Citizen Protection Service Administrator wish to add verbal comments to the record?”
Jane Pennington-Smythe nodded and stood, discreetly tapping her earwire so her words would be picked up by the City Council meeting hall’s speakers and recorders.
Everyone could easily and more safely attend remotely, but few did.
Ridderth politicians preferred maneuvering in person, where the subtlest of cues — and minder talents — revealed hidden truths and opportunities.
She smiled slightly for the array of cameras, an expression she’d practiced in recent months.
“This project demonstrates how galactic and local government partnerships serve the needs of our citizens.” As if improvising, she widened her smile and added, “I look forward to seeing you all at the building dedication ceremony and inaugural session of the Planetary Council.”
After nodding respectfully toward the governor and the council president, she sat and muted her earwire again.
The drafts in the large hall were worse than usual that evening.
Fortunately, Jane’s nasal filters only let through occasional whiffs of the odd smells that were peculiar to old buildings.
The City Council was unaccountably attached to its curvilinear historic architecture, despite its distinct lack of environmental comforts.
Too bad it wasn’t part of the joint renovation project for the Mabingion Planetary Council Headquarters building. That, at least, was gratifyingly modernized. Thanks to her hard work and skill, the former miserable disaster of a project would soon be a spectacular success.
Without her expertise and the resources of the CPS Minder Corps, the city and the continent of Ridderth would have lost out on twenty years of much-needed revenue from being the seat of the planetary government and all the ancillary business it generated.
The weak planetary government relied far too heavily on the megacities to provide services that should have been centralized.
They owed her. She’d be calling in the debt soon, before it slipped their minds.
At last, the governor formally adjourned the meeting.
Jane stood immediately and smoothed her formal long coat, then stepped closer to a mirror to check her appearance.
She wasn’t the only one. Outside the protection of the hall’s military-grade tech suppressors, commercial remote cameras swarmed throughout the city like locusts. Ridderth’s journalists took perverse delight in publishing unflattering images along with their malicious stories.
Jane caught the attention of Boroslova, her chief aide, who was both a minder filer who remembered everything and an organizing genius. She was also a CPS top-level, Institute-trained shielder, able to protect Jane from assaults by telepaths and others. “Home, please.”
Boroslova nodded. “Of course, Administrator. Securing the route now. The Forecast Division says violence indicators are spiking today.”
Two of her three inside personal security moved in closer.
She’d never sought fame, but it came with her current assignment.
Because of the repeated attempts on her life, she now needed well-armed, armored transports and teams of twenty to protect her from vicious, vengeful enemies.
And from the roving packs of journalists who targeted her projects with their slanted stories.
She didn’t care how much malfeasance the press uncovered or how many awards they’d won. Jackals always ate regardless of whether their victims were guilty or innocent. Just ask her wife’s family.
Jane pushed aside her annoyance. Tonight, she and her wife would enjoy a cozy evening together and plan their well-deserved vacation for later that year.
A Ridderth City Councilor sidled into Jane’s space.
“I’m glad I caught you,” he said, as if she’d been jetting out the door instead of standing still.
“That Novo Granica economic forecast from last week is making my spons… erm, constituents unhappy.” He frowned like a pale, pouting guppy. “Most unhappy.”
Jane nodded sympathetically. “Perhaps you should remind them that the economic forecast was created by a publicity-hungry media company with subscriptions to sell. They don’t have access to all the data, and wouldn’t use it ethically if they did.”
“Excellent message.” His face brightened with an oily smile. “Perhaps the expert CPS data analysis division could provide support? It is surely in all our best interests to disprove the economists’ consensus that it will take thirty years for Ridderth’s job market to recover.”
Jane hid a flare of irritation at the damage the article had done to public perception about the project. “Of course, Councilor. Standard rates will apply.” She opened her percomp and made a note.
The pouting guppy’s smile soured as he turned and walked away.
She’d initially been extremely aggravated when an upstart media company discovered the construction project wasn’t paying for the various Minder Corps services she’d provided to get it back on track and keep it that way.
In actual fact, she’d been donating CPS labor because the project’s success was critical to the CPS’s longer-term agenda.
Of course, the sleazy journalists insinuated she and the contractor were pocketing the “missing” funds.
However, the story had turned out to be a blessing in disguise.
The CPS now tracked hours and invoiced the city accordingly.
The planetary CPS budget reports to Central HQ showed a profit for the first time in decades.
As a bonus, Ridderth was now less inclined to take her and her considerable resources for granted.
Delegate Filiatoro, Ridderth’s elected regional representative, who’d watched the guppy leave, eased closer.
“Even though Novo G’s gloomy economic forecast is likely right,” she said softly, “I know you saved the Ridderth project.” Her voice dropped to a murmur.
“In case you hadn’t heard, the CGC High Council just approved a very long overdue rent hike for every military base on Mabingion.
” She pointed a curved thumb vaguely east, where the CGC military base in Ridderth sprawled over five hundred square kilometers and served as home base for one hundred thousand personnel and their peacekeeping equipment.
“Probably come out of your budget, too. Thought you’d like a heads-up. ”
“Of course.” Jane nodded graciously, as if she already knew. “Thank you for thinking of me.”
The woman nodded once and edged away.
Jane waited a few moments, then casually stepped closer to her chief aide to whisper the news. “Get me an emergency meeting with Hujuru in 37A, and tell my wife that I’m sorry I’ll be late again. I’ll also need the shielder on call.”
Deep in the heart of the CPS’s largest facility on base, Room 37A’s uninteresting name and soothing lighting disguised its purpose of accessing every military data and communication system planetwide, from public to top secret.
The CPS’s foundational mission of keeping the galactic peace often required it to skirt the ponderous, siloed, tradition-bound military and Concordance civilian government to get things done.
The room had similar hooks into Mabingion’s planetary government systems, though not as comprehensive as they should be. The improved building she was about to turn over to the planetary High Council would fix many of those monitoring blind spots.
CPS Covert Operations Regional Supervisor Hujuru, a muscular, Japanese-featured woman who was much older than she looked, tapped a thick, gem-encrusted fingernail on the table.
“We’re still checking the old contracts for the CPS Academy and Institute in Arazak.
The Ridderth base is going to be a problem.
The Planetary Commander’s second-in-command is drafting a persuasive case for the CPS to take the lion’s share of the rate hike.
” She displayed a series of intercepted communications between the Brigadier and the data analysts.
“The Subgeneral is traditional military. We have pressure points there, but the Brigadier is an ambitious golden star. No family secrets, no shady revenue, no addictions. I recommend authorizing a kill team.”
Like so many covert ops managers Jane had cleaned up after over the years, Hujuru was far too ready to destroy people when they became inconvenient. At least the woman was more honest about it than most.
Jane sniffed. “It would be a shame to deprive the military of a competent leader. They have so few.” Her arch tone made the other woman laugh, as she’d intended.
“Let’s find a promotion that will move the Brigadier into someone else’s orbit.
We can absorb the higher budget percentage for now and incrementally modify our fee ratio in the coming months. ”
Hujuru tilted her head in acquiescence. “You’re the boss.
Besides, if the CGC High Council passes the age-twenty-one minder testing law, they’ll have to flux our budget to fund it.
Not to mention increasing staffing, since we can’t use contractors anymore.
” She frowned. “Speaking of which, have you read tonight’s Novo G article by Tapio and Charrascos yet? ”
“No.” Based on Hujuru’s tight tone, Jane braced herself for bad news.
“They claim that, statistically speaking, it’s safer to be an asteroid mining prospector than an ex-CPS contractor.
They compared public government data across the galaxy with CPS data.
” Hujuru’s lips thinned. “They cited Mabingion specifically and made it look like Ridderth is worse than even Concordance Prime.” She waggled a finger between them. “They named both of us.”