Elisa Santino loved the Exploration Corps,
but after the violent takeover she got shuffled around until she finally ended
up working for Admiral Fisher, and the only way out was to resign. If she had
to quit the Corps, she might as well make herself rich first.
There were deep, dark
secrets surrounding the construction of the new starship. She told no one she’d
discovered Gentry Stokes Jr. and Captain Paul Poluka were up to their necks in
some kind of sneaky business. Stokes used all his connections—even among his
competitors—to hide the real design of the starship. She figured he would pay
for her silence.
She got to her desk before
sunrise—hours before anyone else—but kept her computer switched to keyboard
instead of voice, so anyone who might be around wouldn’t hear how she hacked
into secret files.
At six-thirty, her
coworkers began trickling into the Department of Design Review. Elisa closed
the files she’d hacked into after copying the interesting parts to a button
disk. She looked up, smiled and said “good morning” to each person as they came
in.
Most didn’t know much
about her, except that she was good at office work and very pretty. Her looks
sometimes gave her an edge, which she took full advantage of, but her
height—only 147 centimeters—and her petite 50kg body made her seem childlike,
which caused people to not take her seriously. In most cases concerning her
career, it wasn’t helpful.
At five minutes before
seven, the son of a bitch arrived. He always showed up 35 minutes earlier than
scheduled, and this always surprised the newcomers, which was the whole point.
When he barged into the room with that meaningless grin on his pasty white
face, the new clerk named Julie almost screamed.
Everyone knew Fisher was
trying to get Julie into bed. He’d tried with Elisa, too. In fact, he tried it
with most young women whom he outranked. That’s what got Elisa demoted from
lieutenant to ensign, she refused to spread her legs for the disgusting son of
a bitch. Not that she had anything against sleeping around—she did her
share—but never with creeps like Fisher.
“Admiral,” Julie gasped,
“we weren’t expecting you so early.”
I was, Elisa thought.
“Uh-huh,” he grunted
absently as he whisked around the office to see if anyone was late or goofing
off. He loved catching somebody at something. It was his idea of power: his
power over his people.
After completing a loop
around the office, he left for the cafeteria. Julie sighed with relief when the
door swung shut behind him. Julie needed something to do, something to keep Fisher
from pestering her.
“Julie,” Elisa called
softly. “Could you give me a hand with something?”
Relief erupted from the
young girl’s face. “What can I do for you, Ensign Santino?”
She had a sweet face and
was petite like Elisa, but not so short. Fisher went for the small women,
especially the young ones. Elisa didn’t know for sure what a date with the son
of a bitch was like, but she’d heard rumors about one girl who had to go to the
hospital after a night with him. She moved to another city the very next day
and changed her name so Fisher couldn’t find her again. Elisa never heard of a
woman seeing him a second time.
“I need you to check some
files.” Elisa explained. “Look for subcontractors who worked on the Hanno and
got paid twice for the same job or materials. It happens sometimes.”
“I can do that,” Julie
responded with an angelic smile.
“Sure you can. Use my
computer. It’s all set up.”
Fisher came back with a
cup of coffee in one hand and two donuts in the other. Elisa silently prayed
his addiction to caffeine and sugar would lead to a heart attack—or at least a
stroke.
“Ensign Santino.” Fisher
loudly emphasized her reduced rank. “I expect the Hanno report finished by
noon. I have a meeting with the president’s cabinet today.”
“It will be ready before
then, Admiral.” She always called him Admiral instead of sir because, in her
mind, sir indicated respect.
“It better be accurate and
complete.”
“It will be, Admiral.” How
would you know the difference, you son of a bitch?
“It better be.”
You said that already,
asshole. “Yes, Admiral.”
Fisher moved around the
desk to look over Julie’s shoulder at the computer screen. “What are you
doing?”
The young woman paused but
didn’t turn to face him. “I’m checking financial records, sir.”
Elisa added, “We’re
looking for signs of fraud.”
The Admiral hovered about
a moment longer, fidgeting, as if trying to think of something to say, before
finally going to his office.
“Ensign Santino?” Julie
whispered when he was gone.
“Call me Elisa. He’s like
that with all the new girls. He was probably going to have you do something
that involved working closely with him, but the thought of finding evidence of
fraud distracted him. It’d mean having power over someone else.”
“Is that what he wants?
Power over everyone? Over me?”
“Listen, he doesn’t have
as much power over you as he’d like you to believe. You’re a civilian. Just
refuse, and there’s nothing he can do.”
“He could fire me.”
“There are better jobs and
better bosses. If I were you, I’d just quit and file a complaint, but don’t
tell anyone I suggested it.”
Julie became absorbed in
her task, unaware that Elisa already did this research weeks ago and covered up
everything she wanted to remain hidden. The secret transactions of Stokes
Industries would only be valuable if they stayed secret.
Admiral Fisher returned at
noon in his dress-gray uniform.
“How do I look?” he asked,
standing straight, shoulders back.
“Very nice, Admiral,”
Julie said.
Like a jackass in a
uniform, Elisa thought.
“Where’s my report?” he
demanded.
His report—as if he’d done
any work on it. Elisa handed him a button-disk, knowing how he’d react.
He looked at it, and
rolled his eyes in disbelief.
“You should know, Ensign
Santino, that for a meeting like this, I need it printed on paper.”
“Of course, Admiral.” Elisa
handed him a large envelope. “Here’s the printed report.”
He took the envelope and
made an exaggerated show of hefting it to check the weight.
“How many copies?”
Elisa hesitated. He had
her. “Five copies.”
He rolled his eyes again.
“Five? I need six or seven, Ensign. You should have known that. I thought you
were trained. Well, I don’t have time now. I’ll have to see if the vice
president’s secretary can make more copies for me.”
She was gritting her teeth
by the time the son of a bitch finished scolding her in front of everyone. When
he finally left, the reduced tension throughout the office was almost palpable.
Most of her colleagues would have a long lunch to celebrate the admiral’s
absence.
Elisa spent her lunchtime
in the office, taking advantage of her coworkers’ absence. The admiral slipped
up when he mentioned the vice president’s secretary. It meant that the meeting
was not quite what it seemed. He’d be seeing Vincent Batastia, the new vice
president and the architect of the New Federation, who was also the scariest
thing to happen to the planet Earth in a long time.
Elisa went to the
admiral’s office and hacked into his protected files. This last year had taught
her a lot about the complex networks of information that were going to make her
rich, and she’d gone to a lot of effort to discover all of Fisher’s most secret
passwords.
In a file of archived
correspondence she found that Fisher was working closely with a Navy admiral
named Higgs who was guiding the son of a bitch up the ranks of the political
insiders. There were vague references to new government programs dealing with
redistribution of wealth, and—what the hell? —forced relocations? She didn’t
like the sound of that.
There was also one mention
of The Blacklist, which Elisa wanted to find out more about. There were
several comments from Fisher concerning “the perks” which were available to the
most privileged insiders. Fisher’s references to perks came across like a dog
begging for a treat, and Higgs’s responses promised that Fisher would soon
qualify to enjoy such privileges.
It was too much to read
during lunch. She’d take it home to study later. She went through an elaborate
procedure of creating a mirror archive that the network recognized as
legitimate, and copied everything into it before redefining it as a deleted
archive so that it would slip through the security protocols and allow her to
copy it to a button disk. She broke several laws getting the job done.
By the time people
returned from lunch she was back at her desk reading a magazine about beach
houses in Croatia. She might get one of those, after taking what she knew to
Gentry Stokes Jr., and extorting a piece of the Stokes family fortune from him.
The thought of retiring with both her youth and a lot of money sent a tingle of
anticipation through her tiny body.
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