I slowly sit back on the pre-fabbed chair in the lobby, silently closing out my link with the admin system. I don't make eye contact with Anna Delmond, or whatever her name is. I breathe deeply, trying not to let the scent of clover distract me from the revelation. Alright, Mel, you can do this. Think like a cop. Er, rather, think like a private investigator. Wind it back.
The admin staff are involved in a well-developed criminal enterprise. It's not clear how big it is, but they're feeling bold enough to run it off the official admin servers. So, they aren't worried it will be caught in a routine scan or audit. That means this isn't a solo rogue actor; it's a group dug into the administration. It takes time and effort to set up that kind of infiltration.
And they are running the corrupt activities through the official system, not along the many ad-hoc local private networks. Even though those private networks would be much harder to infiltrate and trace. Ah, I bet they're trying to get out of paying the hefty data-rates for the networks on this moon. And probably keep anyone else from realizing what's happening and wanting a cut of the action.
So, they hire private security at ground level? Well, it implies a top-down style of control. Makes sense. It looks like this isn't a native, organic grass-roots thing. Private security isn't playing it stealth, but they aren't advertising it either. So, it's not a show for the locals, they're just trying to keep a low-profile for tourists.
The hair rises on my neck. Not trying to make waves? Which means I can't let you know I'm suspicious. I know something is wrong. But you don't know I know. So, play it smart, Mel. By playing stupid. You're just some stubborn former cop who ain't taking crap from some Jovian admin official. Hopefully, they'll just rubber-stamp your appeal to get you out of their hair.
But... will they just reverse the denial to push me along? Or find reason to deny the appeal to prevent legal weapon purchases? It depends on their endgame.
Should I just leave? No, if I leave after traveling the distance and shouldering the expense of the trip, that would be noteworthy. They'd wonder what spooked me. Wonder what I found or what someone said, perhaps, especially since they'll know I'm a former cop. No, I'm in it. But let's see how they play it.
Because if they deny me a weapon's certification, it means they are very determined to keep control of weapons in the Jovian. Which makes my skin crawl. Gang violence is up. Luddites showing up in groups with real weapons? And criminals restricting legal weapon ownership by subverting government agencies?
And you challenged them, Mel. I swallow, feeling a bead of sweat roll down my neck. No, calm down Mel. Nothing to do with you. They don't want attention. They aren't going to cap you in a public dome. Probably. No, relax, don't get too far ahead of yourself. It's all speculation.
I can't prove anything except the tag, which is something a Scouting Officer would have to investigate. Which begs the question; should I ping the local Code Enforcement office? I lick my lips, thinking.
Well, that depends on whether they're 'on the take'. Ugh, on second thought, I can't report this locally. If they're aware of the infiltration of the admin system by criminals, they're tacitly permitting it at the least. And if they're not aware of an infiltration this deep and extensive in their own backyard, they're probably not going to be very clever or helpful.
Or at least not inclined to believe a stranger, a former cop who 'resigned in lieu of a medical termination', over admin. Well, might as well write the precinct office a message and set a deadman's switch for transmission. And maybe I should ping Sparrow and let her know. Just cover my bases.
Because I have a feeling this hearing isn't going to be a fun time for anyone. But especially not for me.
"Melody Cruz?" I hear out loud, and my eyes pop open. Anna Delmond is standing at the back of the lobby, holding a door open. "If you're ready, we can proceed with the appeal on the record," she says, giving me a wide smile. One that seems as ingenuine as the advertisements in Aquila.
I swallow, trying to control my pulse as I stand. "Of course, Ms. Delmond, just finishing up a few pings," I say, as I hurriedly dash out a few messages. One to Sparrow, one to the local Code Enforcement precinct office, both set up on a timer. If I don't check in, at least someone will know.
People will miss me. At least, Luna will; I haven't finished those interrogatories, and clearly someone cares about that. Well, at least if I die here in the Jovian, Third Precinct will probably send someone to check it out and maybe avenge me. Small blessings!
I step into the hearing room, which is essentially a large conference room with a desk and two tables. Anna Delmond walks to the desk, sitting and pulling a screen up in front of her.
Sitting at the table labeled 'petitioner', I know in my gut that she has no intention of approving my certification. But then, I haven't come this far to give up, and maybe I can play the hearing officer a little.
She doesn't read as military or cop, but her squared shoulders and straight back make me think she's used to getting her way. And the smirk on her very punchable face. "Been working for admin long, Ms. Delmond?" I ask, trying to get a read on her.
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She taps a few buttons on her desk, and a green light illuminates the walls. "With respect, Ms. Cruz, we're going on the record now, so let's keep the record confined to the issue at hand."
I manage not to growl at her as she reads through the 'procedural history' of my petition, the docket and hearing numbers, and a bunch of other minutia. "And of course, you retain the right to present evidence, testify, and be represented by counsel. Do you have an attorney, Ms. Cruz?"
No Melody this time, huh? Wonder if you're worried about what goes into the transcript? "No, thank you, I'll just rely on my law enforcement training and extensive experience with the criminal legal system to wing it on the civil side," I say with a grin.
Delmond's grin goes brittle. Her green eyes flare, and she reaches up to tuck her blond her behind her ear. "Well, excellent, then moving onto the certification; can you tell me about the circumstances of your separation from employment?"
I blink. "I thought the documents were pretty clear; I voluntarily resigned my rank and position as a scouting officer for Third Precinct."
She nods and looks at a file on her desk. "In lieu of termination for medical unfitness, correct?"
I take a deep breath. "No. I had been suspended, but with pay. Further, an appeal was filed and pending."
"But you resigned prior to the appeal being heard, thereby rendering it moot?"
I dig my fingers into the polymer table in front of me. "Yes, but my resignation was unrelated."
Anna gives me a wry grin. "You were suspended, and then resigned days later, and your testimony is that it was unrelated?"
"I mean, the alleged disability wasn't related to the resignation." I take a deep breath, my heart pounding. "Even my suspension was only tangentially related."
She shakes her head. "Then why did you resign?"
I give her a level start. "Personal reasons," I say simply. I can't tell you about the nuke, sadly. Might get your attention.
She doesn't seem impressed by my answer. "And can you tell me why you didn't treat for the disability?"
"I am treating," I say with some heat. "I've only refused invasive neurological procedures," I explain, trying to lower my volume.
Ms. Delmond clicks her tongue. "So, you slice and splice your brain up with implants, but won't fix your PTSD?"
I grind my teeth. "I'm pursuing other methods; and my implants are irrelevant to my psychological condition."
That earns a huff that's just shy of a snort. "Ms. Cruz, it would seem to be a contradiction in your testimony that you'll submit to brain surgery electively, but not as medical treatment," she says blandly.
My fingers grip the armrest of my seat. "With respect, my implants are pretty common, and not relevant to the issue here," I say acidly.
"With respect, Ms. Cruz, it seems anything affecting cognition could factor into a medical disqualification," Anna says smoothly, tapping a few buttons on her desk, calling up another file. "And since I'm the hearing officer, I'll make the determination of relevancy."
You're winding me up. Trying to get me to fly off the handle. Think I've never had a perp try to piss me off? I close my eyes for a moment, taking a long breath. Let's try shaking up your rhythm, Anna. I open my eyes and smile. "By the way, I hope Officer Dyer is well."
Anna's face goes neutral. "He's out on medical leave at present," she says quickly.
I tilt my head. "For how long?"
Ms. Delmond's eyes narrow. "I'm afraid I don't know, and couldn't disclose if I did," she says, tapping her fingers.
She opens her mouth to continue, but I cut her off. "By the way, how long has private security been around? Pretty new right?"
I watch her mouth work silently for a moment, glancing at the green illumination on the walls. "The daughters of Ganymede have often contributed with peacekeeping on the colony," she says carefully.
I smile innocently. "Strange, the man outside the building didn't strike me as a daughter of anywhere," I say, placing an elbow on the table.
Silence hangs in the air for a moment. "We're getting off topic, Ms. Cruz," the blonde says, flicking a few files up.
"Are we?" I lower my voice. "Can I ask why the hearing was moved to an earlier date?"
I watch her nose scrunching in distaste. "Our calendar has limited availability, and scheduling doesn't take the petitioner's convenience into account, and we had to work with the timelines we have."
"Two days? Not much time to travel," I point out with a smirk.
But she lets that slide past her. "You seem to have made it just fine. As for your medical condition, I assume you haven't had any follow up procedures in the month or so since your termination?"
"No..." I start, trailing off as she lifts a finger.
"So, you have no new evidence to present, and your testimony is essentially a restatement of the written and verbal statements in your petition. Unless you have anything further?"
I pause, thinking. No point in fighting her on this, she's clearly made up her mind, but she seems to want the transcript of the hearing to be clean. Probably why you didn't want me to arrive for the hearing at all. Hmm.
If there's large-scale fraud going on at the official level... and Jax said someone was blackmailing him into selling rare earth metals through the Ganymede markets... and someone is consolidating control of weapons and prompting gang violence in the Jovian... and the usual decision makers and hearing officers are being replaced... Someone is consolidating money and power in the Jovian.
Why does this feel like a regime change?
And all behind the scenes, with the veneer of legitimacy. It's high level, not some thug extorting smugglers or running protection rackets. Time to take a shot in the dark.
"Yeah, I do, Ms. Delmond. Hearing Officer Dyer pinged me a message and told me everything about your little 'change in management' here. It would be better if you came clean with me, here and now. We can avoid involving the cops," I suggest, smiling widely.
It's a complete bluff. I don't know the first thing about Dyer or what's going, but clearly she doesn't want me asking questions. And an old cop trick in interrogations is to pretend you know everything already, and let the perp fill in the gaps for you.
Of course, usually you have the perp cuffed to a desk in the precinct, or standing between two officers armed officers looking very unhappy. And it's occurring to me that pretending to know what's going on works when you know the scale of the misdeeds you're claiming to know.
So, I'm taken out of the blue when Anna's eyes bulge, and her hand reaches under the desk, tapping repeatedly. An alarm begins to blare, and she pulls out a metal tube about a foot long. It's been so long since I've seen a projectile weapon that I don't recognize it at first.
In fact, it's not until an explosion from the muzzle makes my ears ring that I realize she's firing at me. I kick off the table and flail backwards. Holy void-spawned fuck!
The shock of the noise is almost as great as the shock of two rounds ripping through my belly.