The next time Director Steiner logged into his neural net account, he would notice a new message had been ghosted into the top secret folder. The message would contain no body and have an embedded file named “Field_Report-Oct-29-826”. When opened, the file would prompt him to enter a decryption key. The key would be one used only between Director Steiner and one of his officers used for undercover reports three years prior.
Once Director Steiner input the decryption key and opened the file an audio file would appear on his screen, paused at zero. When played, a voice, familiar to Director Steiner, although more tired and world-weary than the last time he heard it, would begin to speak.
“Listen up because I’m only going to say this once, in the very literal sense. I hear I’m still dead to the world and I want to keep it that way a little longer. But if you’ve opened the file and worked out the decryption key then you know it is already. Before I start, I don’t owe you or anyone an explanation, but I’ll give you enough information to check with your sources so you know it’s me and it’s genuine.”
“I was on my way back to Cambridge to file a report on a meeting with a Maquis informant over in Roussillon. On my way back through Leeds I came across a humanitarian convoy. They were airlifting refugees out of what was left of Planet Leeds at the time. The frogs came out of nowhere and started attacking the convoy. I bought time for the refugees to escape but I couldn’t hold it together. I ejected and expected to either burn up in the upper atmosphere or get outright spaced by the frogs.”
“Turns out they had other plans for me, guess they figured I had state secrets to spill. They tractored in my escape pod and shipped me off to a prison in the Picardy system. I spent nine months in a cell the size of my shoe. Sleep deprivation, torture, pharmaceutical interrogation, you name it, they did it. They even kept me in a well-lit room for a week blaring La Marseillais. Bloody song… but I want you to know I never broke. I kept my mouth shut until the end, I was ready to die to protect the Crown.”
“When the war turned against them and things started to collapse I waited for an opportunity. I was damned if I was going to die in that box. Once the fighting reached Picardy, a group of Maquis hit the station to rescue some of their comrades. They knew I wasn’t one of theirs but they took me anyway. From their base, I took a ride out of dodge on a transport. I’ve been living in the border worlds ever since.”
“I was out. I planned to stay that way. I’ve given more than most do into the service of the Crown. But I always kept my ear to the ground. Kept in touch with a select few of my most trusted contacts. I heard the Service was all but disbanded, you’d gone off the grid. A few months ago I started hearing things that were disturbing about the goings-on at home. At the same time, one of my sources said you’d finally resurfaced… which means that you’ve been hearing the same things I have. I won’t have our country led into a war on the whim of a bunch of power-hungry madmen.”
“One of these Outcast whizkids owed me a favor, he’s programmed this message to ping me when you open it - don’t bother trying to trace the origin, he’s figured out some way to mirror it back to you with no trace. Should offer him some work honestly… Anyway, three days from now, 23:00, Samarinda Bar, Planet Borneo. Come alone. I’ll find you. I see anyone else I’m gone for good… I’ve been out of the game but if what I’ve heard is right… you need people you can trust, and you’re one of the few I trust.”
“This message is going to auto-delete now. 3 days. Samarinda Bar”
