Tickets arranged, I hit voice, called the code, and got a very neutral response.
“Palace Reception, may I help you?” a man asked.
“My name is Kenneth Chinran.”
“Please stand by, I will transfer you. It might take several minutes.”
“It needs to take a lot less, sir. Whatever code you have for me needs to be raised a level.”
“Sir, you are already at the highest code possible. Please stand by. Connecting.”
The Queen’s voice said, “What do you have, Ken?”
“He’s leaving. You can possibly stop him at the orbital. My assistant has the information.”
She fairly shouted, “Chief Watson, get online now. Go ahead.”
Silver spoke. “Caledonian Elegance Firebird Aurora. Boarding at Sapphire Station at one four two nine Capital Time.”
I added, “We are in pursuit.”
She asked, “Do you need to make the apprehension?”
That was a very diplomatic way of asking, “Dead or alive?” If I needed to make the kill, they’d hold him for me.
“However you can best apprehend him is fine, ma’am.”
“Understood. You will be waved through security.”
“Roger. Chinran out.”
Silver asked, “Ken Chinran?”
“Me.”
She looked confused.
She said, “You know, I don’t think I was ever told your real name.”
“Not even regarding Earth?”
She shook her head. “Nope. Black Ops Seven, but no names. Still secret.”
Shit. But it made sense. Why tell anyone? There hadn’t been any, wasn’t any, reason to. And our IDs as Operatives were always secret.
“Yeah, that was my real name once.”
She looked at me a bit oddly. She thought she knew me after all this time together, but which parts of me were real? Which were cause, effect, or just cover?
Did I know, anymore? I felt much more “Dan” than “Ken.”
We parked the car in the drop-off zone, and I flashed the warrant at the constable on duty, and handed him the keys. He raised his eyebrows, but nodded. We strode quickly through the door, found another duty officer, showed him the warrant.
“Sir, we need to board as quickly as possible. This is an emergency.”
He nodded, walked us right to the front of the line, and we checked in. There were a few mutters but more inquisitive sounds. A powered cart awaited us, and we rolled through the crowd and right to the flashing security cordon. A flash and a scan of the warrant and we were through, and then aboard.
I contemplated ordering the pilot to lift early, but that would mess with astrogation, and there was nothing I could do at this end. Docking issues would take time.
The crew ran through the launch procedures. Decades ago, I’m told, all craft were similar and one could ignore the briefings. These days, with vertical launch, air launch, catapult, skywhip and other methods of getting to orbit, one does have to pay attention. This was an air launch, from high-efficiency compression jet to nuclear-chemical rocket. We rose and kept rising, the sky changing color out the ports to cloud, bright sky blue, brilliant deep blue, then to violet, and then black with a misty pale blue layer far below us. In an hour, we were in low orbit and approaching Sapphire Station.
Docking was straightforward and smooth. Good pilot, even with massive AI power in the loop. I got ready to debark. We were docked at right angles and under centrifugal G.
“Ladies and gentlemen, there’s a security issue in the gate area that necessitates a short wait. Please remain seated, and we’ll keep you informed.”
Oh, shit.
I looked at Silver, she at me. She nodded, I unbuckled and we moved forward fast, bumping between couches.
The purser said, “Sir, madam, I need—”
I cut her off with both the Royal Warrant and my “Citizen’s Council” ID.
“Ma’am, that security issue pertains to us. We have to debark right now. Please contact whoever you need to.”
She twisted her mouth, nodded, and called the captain via a hush screen. There was some negotiation, she showed our IDs, and then there was an interminable pause, while passengers stared and commented some more. Eventually, she turned and said, “There’s someone waiting to meet you on the other side of the lock.”
“Thank you very much,” I said.
The lock opened, and we were in the dead space between hatches. There was minor leakage. I could hear a faint hiss. If we were in here too long there’d be a problem. There was an emergency O2 supply mounted on the forward bulkhead. I watched it with one eye and the hatch with the other.
The hatch ahead swung open, and we crossed into the station. We still had the inner door ahead. Silver hit the bar, closed the outer door, and then we waited for whoever manned the inner door to open it.