Mysterical-E

He Said, She Says

Sabotage at Spindletop
by Liz Sawyer

Ti stared out the viewport, her gaze held by the dark smudge on the horizon. Smoke from the fire at Midessa, the second refinery to be destroyed, the first to suffer casualties. If all went well during the next hour, the saboteur would be under arrest. If it didn’t, Spindletop could lose at least one more refinery and Ti lose the chance to confirm a terrorist threat only she was convinced existed. Not that the other agents of the Outworld Security and Intelligence Agency, which she commanded, had actually voiced their skepticism, but when her own partner doubted her—

“Never said I doubted you. Just said we needed something more than a random thought you picked out of a dying man’s head. Maybe that something’s here, maybe not. Go do your job and let me do mine.”

Ti smiled at the brusque thoughts, turning to scan the transport’s operations room, not that she needed physically to find her partner. Their telepathic bond told her Ian sat at a computer terminal, fingers flashing on the holo-board, concentrating on finding a way to jam the transmissions of the skimmer they were following. A routine hack job for Ian, except this time he not only had to do it without alerting the pilot, he also had to be able to take over the controls if Adams refused to land.

    They needed both means before the skimmer got too close to the Jack 3 refinery. They couldn’t risk Adams suiciding into that refinery and setting off the explosives he’d more than likely planted earlier at the Permian refinery. They had to consider the worst possible scenario—setting a remote trigger—because the bomb squad sent to Permian might not be able to find, let alone disarm, all the explosives in time.

    So she’d let Ian do his job while she did hers. She could be wrong. After all, Spindletop operated only four refineries, nothing compared to the giants like Shell-Petrol. She looked around, saw Chief of Police Jackson sitting on a nearby bench, eyes closed, leaning back against the transport’s bulkhead.

    Ti hated to do it, as Jackson’s face looked more lined, her hair more gray than a few hours earlier. Ti sympathized, knowing the last few years had seen her own red curls deepen to chestnut, her green eyes acquire their own lines. But the Chief had information she needed, so …

    “Why?” Ti asked as she sat next to Jackson.

    “Huh?” Jackson jerked, eyes blinking before settling on Ti. “I’m sorry, what …?”

    “Why? Spindletop’s not that big, so why are you being targeted?”

    “Never did get that briefing that would’ve answered your questions.” Jackson lifted a coffee cup from the table beside her, sipped, then held the cup between her hands. “Our scientists finally found a faster, cheaper way to process crude oil, but it only works here. Something indigenous to the planet. Same reason terraforming didn’t work.” She half-shrugged. “Refining takes several different steps. Our new process would eliminate some of those steps, saving time and money and still produce exceptionally pure oil, exactly what the Terran Fleet needs.”

    “Okay. So, you announced the process and the threats started.”

    “Huh-un,” came with a headshake as Jackson swallowed more coffee. “First came offers to help us convert the refineries, loan us money, materiel, whatever we needed, in exchange for partnerships. And the Terrans!” Jackson’s voice held the usual scorn of Outworlders when speaking of Earth. “Practically told us to name our own price. Threats started after we turned them down. Security was increased, but we didn’t think anyone would really do anything. Then came the threat not only specifying the Ennis refinery’s main processing unit, but giving a date and time! We closed it down the day before, searched it thoroughly, locked it, posted guards, and it still exploded.” Jackson shook her head, frustration in her voice and on her face. “Ennis was the only fully converted refinery. Midessa was about half through the change-over. We couldn’t convert them all at once, couldn’t afford all four off-line at the same time. Contrary to popular belief, we’re not a rich planet. What food grows in a desert? Oceans are full of fish, but we need more than that, so we trade oil to Ceres for grain, Kyrille for beef, Bama for specially treated cloth. Losing two refineries means losing half our income. If we lose the rest …”

    “I understand.”

    “As it is, we’ll have to borrow to rebuild. I understand Earth’s already sent an offer to help us get a loan through the Swiss Bank. I’ll tell you this.” Jackson looked Ti square in the eyes. “With or without Earth’s help, we will rebuild! So here’s your question back. Why?”

    Ti could only shake her head. She couldn’t tell Jackson that the Chief had just told her why, had confirmed this sabotage was not random.

    Trade, which almost all the Outworlds used instead of cash, was a fragile basis on which to build an economy. The slightest disruption would impact numerous systems. Add to that the approaching vote on the Terran-Outworld Treaty, a vote which Earth and her supporters were presently too few to win. But the vote was several years off and a lot could change. Especially if—an if that appeared ever more likely—Terrans Against The Treaty, a long dormant terrorist group, really had been reborn.

    Spindletop was not the first system to suffer an adverse impact to its economy, forcing it to accept assistance from Earth. Ti could’ve told Jackson that the financial agreement would be a model of fairness almost beyond belief. It would have the final repayment date falling after the vote—and contain a clause so standard in all financial documents that it was practically invisible, for payment in full to be made upon demand by the lender.

    Financial blackmail was a possibility every OSIA agent had been quietly investigating for some time. Quietly because galactic law prohibited any accusation based solely on knowledge gained by telepathy or other extra-sensory means.

    Enacted to prevent false accusations, the law allowed no exceptions. Ti might be Oseeah’s Commander, but she was also a telepath. Ian was an empath. Their talents, which very few knew about, did allow them to quickly identify a guilty party, but they still had to find what Ti called ‘court proof’ and back it up the same way a non-telepath would. That had not been possible until now.

    “It’s still not proof of TATT’s involvement.” Ian’s thought drifted into Ti’s mind.

    “No, but at least we’ve got a name and soon we’ll have a person. More than we had when we
arrived.”

    “Agreed. If not for Chambers, we wouldn’t be out here. Then again, if he hadn’t been so concerned with proof, none of this might’ve happened.”

    Ti ignored Ian’s stress of the word, since it was an area they would never agree on. Still, Ian did have a point. If Chambers had at least questioned Adams, that call from Police Dispatch might never have happened.

    It did though, just after Jackson and Chief of Refinery Security Chambers had met Ti and Ian at the spaceport, bundled them into the Chief’s skimmer and headed into town.

    “Explosions at Midessa,” Dispatch reported. “Some emergency equipment already on scene, waiting for the evac and shut down, more responding.”

    “We’re heading straight there. Keep me advised,” Jackson had ordered as she accelerated and activated the skimmer’s lights and sirens.

    “Evac?” Ti asked.

    “This threat gave us til 4:00 p.m. to agree to abandon the new process. Otherwise, place’d blow. It’s only,” Jackson glanced at the clock in the dash, “one-thirty. There was a full shift working til two. Nearly 500 people.” Her voice turned defensive. “With Ennis gone, we have to make up the shortfall, so Midessa’s been running around the clock. Always personnel in there, including triple security. Since Ennis—blew up on schedule, it was decided it would be safe enough. Everyone was told to keep their eyes open.”

“Chambers knows something. He’s worried and—angry. Something else, maybe—no, can’t get it. Too much emotion from him and Jackson’s adding to it.”

“It’s okay,” Ti told Ian, knowing how difficult it still was for him to open himself to others’ emotions. “Nothing to be done now, anyway. Let’s see what happens after we arrive.”

    What happened after they reached the Disaster Command Post, saw the destruction and got confirmation of the mounting casualty figures, was that Chambers led them to an empty room and confirmed Ian’s empathy.

    “I know who it is. At least, I think I do,” Chambers began. “Up to Ennis, I thought Adams was just looking to move into my slot when I retired. When I found him in Ennis’ main processor after EOD’d been through, he was doing what I was; the place was my responsibility, and I just wanted to double check. We left together and he was with me til it exploded. Something about his reaction bothered me, so I dug into his background.”

    Chambers shifted his gaze from Jackson to Ti and Ian. “He’s not from here, applied for the job two years ago, before the new process was announced. Okay, there were rumors about it, but there are always rumors! I didn’t find anything. I had no grounds, no proof!” Chambers stopped, took a deep breath before continuing.

    “He’s been all over Midessa since the threat. I followed him, tried not to make it obvious I suspected him, hoped he’d slip up. He was supposed to stay here while I went to the port. Commander here says he left just after I did.”

    Jenkins arrested Chambers, then ordered a quiet search for Adams and his skimmer. She, Ti and Ian started for Adams’ residence, when Dispatch again interrupted their plans.

    “Permian Security just acknowledged the alert,” Dispatch advised. “Adams left there about ten minutes ago. Told Chief Watson he wanted to check the place himself, make sure it was okay. He spent about half an hour, mostly in the main processing unit, by himself. He told the Chief it looked fine and he was going on to Jack 3. Chief wants to know if he should send his people in, search the place. And Jack 3’s Chief wants to know if he should take Adams when he arrives or …”

    “Tell Jack 3 to stand by!” Only the terseness of Jackson’s words betrayed her anger. “Tell Permian’s Chief to secure the unit, nothing more! Alert Lt. Williams, have him deploy EOD to Permian and meet us at the hanger.” She slewed the skimmer into a tight curve—

“Adams is Assistant Chief of Refinery Security,” Ian reminded Ti, “so, since all four of us should be at Midessa, his checking Permian is reasonable. If he isn’t aware Chambers suspected him, he’d set the explosives at Permian, do the same at Jack 3 and get the hell off planet before they both blew. If we beat him to Jack 3 and he sees us, he could suicide in, setting off Permian using a dead man’s switch.” Ian’s colloquial name for a specific type of remote control make Ti shiver. “If he’s allowed to land, he’ll have the remote for Permian with him, could still set it off before he’s taken. Might save Jack, but—”

    “Aren’t you just full of encouragement?” The sarcasm in Ti’s thoughts shifted to the seriousness of the Commander of OSIA. “Run Adams’ background. Anything, even so much as a whisper of a trace of a hint that he’s connected to TATT. And start figuring out how to jam his transmissions and take control of his skimmer.”

    Ian pulled the mini-comp off his belt, connected to his ship and began working.

    —straightened the skimmer, accelerated and hit the siren. “Jack’s two hours from here,” Jackson stated. “just over three from Permian. We can get there first, take him as he lands.”

    “No,” Ti disagreed. “We need to take him before he gets close to Jack. We also need to take him without giving him a chance to remotely set off any explosives he might’ve left at Permian. Ian’ll handle that.

    “Who’s Lt. Williams and what’s at this hanger we’re headed for?”

    Jenkins recognized Ti’s segue as a polite way to avoid questions that would not be answered.

    “Williams commands the EOD and Tactical Weapons Teams. After the threats started, he had the strike transport out, special ops team training almost daily, bomb squad looking for everything from nitro to nukes. Got to be a joke after a couple weeks, ’specially with no action on the threats. Til Ennis. After the place blew, Williams swore EOD had scoured it.” She sighed.

“The plan today had been to evacuate Midessa a couple hours before the deadline and have EOD go again. Maybe they’ll get lucky at Permian.”

    Reaching the spaceport’s restricted security area, Ti and Ian followed Jackson aboard a large transport and into what could only be the operations room. Several people were gathered around a table with a hologram of a refinery shimmering in its center. One of the men straightened, walked over, glanced at Ti and Ian and spoke to Jackson .

    “We can leave immediately. I have some preliminary plans to take down Adams and—”

    “Lieutenant Williams.” Ti spoke very quietly. “The President requested OSIA investigate the sabotage. That means I am in command. Let me make one thing very clear. I want Adams alive. If it becomes necessary, shoot to wound only.”

    “You don’t have to worry.” The words, the tone, were almost snide. “My people know how to take someone down.”

    Ti stared at Williams. “Alive, lieutenant. Or you will answer to me.”

    Williams looked at Jackson , then, when his superior did not speak, back to Ti. “Understood,” he snapped.

    “Set a course and speed that puts us ahead of Adams, but keeps us outside his radar range. Ian, your usual.”

    That had been more than an hour earlier and Ti knew Ian was a programming genius. But if he couldn’t come up with something soon …

    Ian swiveled the chair around, faced Ti and Jackson and nodded. He waited until they, and Williams, walked over to him. “Just one problem. As soon as the jamming’s activated, he’ll know. As for taking control, I can do it anytime, providing he hasn’t fiddled with the controls on his end. I included contingencies based on what I’d do in his place, but …”

    “Understood.” Ti’s terse verbal acknowledgement was expanded upon mentally, not in words, but with a warm confidence. “Now, we need—” she broke off as Ian’s mini-comp buzzed. He glanced at it, then at Ti.

“Over the past five years he’s had contact with some of the individuals we’re interested in.”
    Ti knew Ian would say nothing more until they were aboard their own ship, which he had personally safeguarded against eavesdroppers both telepathic and electronic. Not that she needed more.

    “Lieutenant, if we go to max speed now, how long to overtake Adams?” Ti asked.

    Williams left to consult with the pilot, returned moments later. “Seventeen minutes.”

    “Do it. Ian, as soon as we spot him, or he spots us, start the jam. As for taking control, your call.” Ti added mentally, “I’ll give you as much warning as I can.”

    They got within a mile of Adams’ skimmer before they heard the echo of his passive radar. It appeared to everyone that Ian activated the jam at the very first nanosecond of the echo reverberating in the transport and they marveled at his fast reflexes.

    It hadn’t been just fast reflexes, but Ti, using one of her talents to mentally scan for Adams. She sensed his mind a quarter-second before Adams’ radar warned him. Ian, through their bond, knew and activated the jam. Both of them hoped that the split-second advantage had been enough to prevent any signal going back to Permian, because, at this distance, Ti couldn’t actually take over his mind.

    Maybe it had, Ti thought, because Adams increased speed and began zigzagging as the transport narrowed the distance. At least, no call from Dispatch came in. Yet.

    After five minutes of no response to Jackson’s calls for him to land, Ian spoke.

    “Taking control now.”

    The skimmer suddenly dropped towards the ground, just as suddenly veered to the left. It then soared up several hundred feet before suddenly stopping and then moving in a series of jerks and twists.
    “Fighting me,” Ian tossed out, one hand working the joystick, the other flying over the holo-board. “Bastard’s good.”

    “Williams, send a couple shots near him, close enough to let him know we’re serious,” Ti ordered.

    Williams issued the order. Moments later, a laser shot out from the transport, then a second struck the skimmer’s tail as it zagged instead of zigged.

    Ian managed to override Adams and bring the skimmer down in a semi-controlled glide, but the sand wasn’t all that yielding.

    Ti was out of the transport before it completely stopped. Ian, Jackson and Williams were on her heels, an armed squad on theirs.

    “Everyone, stay back!” Ti ordered as she scrambled towards the skimmer.

    The crash into the sand dune had crumpled the cockpit, broken out the windscreen and trapped Adams in his seat. Ti did a fast mental scan, found his injuries weren’t fatal. She stood inches from the skimmer, studying Adams as she caught her breath.

    “Who’re you working for?” she finally asked.

    Adams remained silent.

    “Okay.” Ti straightened. “I’m a telepath, so we can do this so that you remain sane. Or not.”

    “You wouldn’t dare.” Adam’s demeanor remained calm, his words confident. “There’d be such a protest—”

    “From whom?” Ti interrupted. “Not from you, you’ll have no mind left. From the citizens of this planet, whose economy you’ve crippled, whose husbands, wives, sons and daughters you’ve killed? Chambers is already talking and when what he says gets out, and it will if I have to contact every reporter in this sector, no one will give a damn about you. Besides,” she leaned closer, “you see any witnesses here?”

    “You don’t have the gu—” Adams jerked, stiffened, mouth still open, eyes staring at nothing.

    The information Ti ripped from Adams ensured that all explosives at Permian were found and defused.
*
    “You were right,” Ian told Ti when she returned to their ship after briefing Spindletop’s president. “TATT’s founders may be dead or in prison, but some of the names you got from Adams are their descendants. And not at all shy about hiding their beliefs.

    “I’ve sent alerts to the police in the systems Adams knew about, but they’re probably long gone. If they’re back in the Sol System, never find ’em. There’s one name, though. George Simons. You’re sure it was Simons, not Simmons?”

    Ti knew Ian had a reason for asking, so she reviewed what she had taken from Adams’ mind before nodding. “Who is he?”

    “One of the owners of ShipShape. It’s a salvage and restoration company, Terran based, but with a good rep Outside. Mostly luxury personal vessels. Lately though, rumor has it he’s going into specialty refits. Individual craft requiring lots of technical parts, equipment not usually found on private ships.”

    Ti immediately understood. “Such as laser grade diamonds?” She referred to the incident that had led to the disappearance of the previous OSIA Commander under circumstances seeming to point to his involvement in the theft of said diamonds and her promotion as his replacement.

    “Such as. He’s also acquired quite a few silent partners over the last four, five years, resulting in quite an increase in his operating capital. I’ve just started tracing them and so far all the names have some connection to TATT. Except for one. Frank Rotiya.”

    “Frank—General Rotiya? The Commander of Terran Security?”

    “A very large contributor.”

    Ti’s gaze shifted, looking at something only she saw. “His father and mine co-wrote The Treaty. Two days after the Terran Senate ratified it, a bomb exploded at the public ceremonial signing of it. His father was killed. Mine was barely injured.” She looked at Ian. “Rotiya’s father had been president of the Terran Federation. His signing The Treaty caused the Terran Senate to impeach him. He’d’ve been removed from office if he’d lived. And my father’s now considered the unofficial leader of the Outworlds, in spite of all his protests. To say Rotiya doesn’t like The Treaty’s an understatement. Add to that our personal history, his and mine. But to do something like this—We’ll never prove it. He’ll have covered himself six ways from Sunday.”

    “So we dig seven ways from Monday. He’s human, love. And if he’s made this personal, then he’s already screwed.”

    Ti stepped closer, wrapped her arms around Ian. “Should’ve left me in that alley.”

    Ian held her tight as he finished their catchphrase. “And missed all the fun?”

***

I am retired from the US Air Force and about to retire as a paralegal. I have been lucky enough to have had four other ‘Ti and Ian’ stories published, the time periods of which are earlier than this one, plus a separate story involving Ian and Ti’s younger brother, occurring many years earlier. I am married, no kids, several cats, enjoy writing, reading and knitting.