I hear the front door slide open, then closed, so I presume Alex left. He must have to 'run down some leads' in meatspace. Less than an hour he said? Maybe much less? Great, I'm on the clock, and I know the max time, but not the minimum. He could be back in ten minutes. Less. No matter what I decide, it's like racing against a clock with no digits.

  It takes me two minutes to resolve myself to do something. Anything, really, besides waiting for Alex to decide my fate. I have plenty of flaws, but I'm no damsel in distress waiting to be rescued. Hmm, though I'm frequently in distress, especially lately. And I've been rescued more times than I would like. Well, I'm no damsel. I'm not even sure what a damsel is, but I think you have to wear a dress. Probably have to be under thirty, too.

  Well, I'm not a damsel in distress this time. That's the important part. I'm going to rescue myself, so time to log onto the 'net.

  I shimmy in my cuffs until I can sort of twist and reach from behind my back towards my pocket. I turn and pull my hips up like I'm doing crunches. Ugh, that hurts the bruises on my belly, but... yes! I manage to catch the edge of the disc sticking out of my pocket with my fingers and spin the dampener off.

  Silver threads bloom in my overlay from the port in the wall. But a denial symbol flashes brightly when I try to access it. Ah, Alex locked it down; not with his CE Key, just a standard lockout. Still, I won't be able to access it without his password. Not a chrome-licking chance. Or maybe...

  How well do I still know you, Alex?

  I guess the password on the second try. It breaks my heart, and a wave of guilt crashes over me. But I don’t have time for that right now. Clocks are ticking, and I'll be in a cell soon. Let's see, what bundle did you buy for your links?

  Whelp, looks like he's got a basic data-plan on the local virts. It's a private system, and doesn't appear directly connected to admin's substrate, so that's good. It's a big moon, what are the odds they'll have sniffers out and find me in any particular virt? Crap, I really shouldn't tempt fate, considering I found them from Io with my own sniffers. I don't log in under my own name, of course. I make sure I'm browsing Incognito. For my handle, I pick Dame. I'm a PI, after all.

  It looks like Alex's assigned quarters sit just west of Aquila station, two levels below the surface. Near the fabricators, and fairly close to the precinct. Far from the tourist spots, were these his default quarters? Not bad, officers get more room down the gravity well. I flip through the tagged channels in his port. I don't touch the entertainment package; I'm looking for something on this K.C.

  I don't have access to the Code Enforcement files. But you know, when power changes hands, there's always signs on the exonet. I'm a private investigator. Time to investigate. Find the who, what, where, when, and why. Then figure out what to do with that info.

  The most concerning is a message from Jax. Looks like I missed his ping. Well, he has some explaining to do anyway! Setting me up to expose the Gaians? No warning? He had to have known. Though, I guess he couldn't have anticipated I'd be on Ganymede personally: nobody saw that coming. He wanted me to dig up dirt, without spilling that they had dirt on him. Vacuum-sucking politics.

  But the blood drains from my face as my eye scans the silver text. "Holy void-spawned fuck..." I whisper, eyes wide. Because it's an auto-drafted message sent by deadman's switch. Sent if he didn't check in by some specified time. And if Jax is a wirehead, that means he's probably either kidnapped or dead.

  Except the contents are gibberish! It's text, but the strings of characters are random. No wait, this has to be a cypher or something, right? But... why send to me? I don't have the code. I do a quick exonet search of publicly available cyphers. Through my filter, I download a few that might be compatible and run a macro through my implant. Nothing. Well, I have no idea.

  But Sparrow might? She and Jax have a history. Something she'd know or recognize from their friendship that an outsider wouldn't? Then why not send to her directly? Well, maybe he sent it to both of us, how would I know? Covering his bases? Ugh, Sparrow...

  I feel a pang at that. I ping her, but there's no response. She's still en route to Io. By now, she might even be sleeping. No need to panic, Mel. I forward the message from Jax and give her an update. I don't mention Alex. Or that I'm being arrested. Or that I've been shot. She'd just worry. And she can't do anything to help me right now anyway. I guess it's not much of an update.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Alright, enough touchy-feely gooey stuff. Criminals and terrorists are performing a coup in the Jovian. I'm down eighty-thousand credits, I'm injured and restrained, and I'm maybe an hour from seeing the inside of a faraday-caged cell. Crunch time, Mel. Let's get coding.

  I’ve let both my sniffers out, hoping to find some trace of the previous tag outside the Admin system. It would help to know where else the Gaian's are running their operations. With only two sniffers, there's probably not much point; needles and haystacks. I search personally for any info, scouring databases and archived systems and message boards.

  After twenty minutes, I'm forced to conclude I won't get my answers just surfing the 'net. I manage to dig up very little on Jax, mostly just some allegations that he's gaming the rare metal marketplaces against each other. But it's all rumor; he must have scrubbed his records wherever he could find them. Kind of impressive, really. There's probably something out there in some virt or system or channel, but I don't have time to use a fine-tooth comb.

  Moving on, Dyer has quite a bit more on him; looks like he's a local. Ganymede born and raised, early sixties, bushy beard and balding. And he kind of has a resting scowl in his holos. He was a hearing officer for the licensing board and manager for the local branch of the Jovian trading network. From what I can tell, he was essentially managing the imports and licensing on Ganymede until about two weeks ago. Then he drops off the Jovian's records, or at least the publicly available ones.

  Hmm, no explanation as to why. There's nothing in the feeds about medical incidents or station accidents, and nothing indicating his death. And he hasn't been reported missing, though he doesn't seem to be married and there's no indication of children. What did Anna Delmond say? He's out on medical leave? Well, there's probably a lot of money changing hands under the table in his business. I wonder exactly what kind of injuries he sustained, and if he's really just out 'recovering'. Busted kneecaps or hyperextended fingers, perhaps?

  Still, there's nothing useful to me right now. What else? I flip through the local newsfeeds. There's a spurt of violence, mostly on Callisto, but there was a shootout on Ganymede in a brothel. I've seen the name before; Trojan Whores. Hah, might have to see the Code Enforcement file on that. Makes me wonder if the shootout was over a 'Helen'. See, I'm truly the height of wit.

  Luckily for the locals, and sadly for me, I can't find anything other recent bouts of violence. Aside from the shooting today outside of Admin, of which there's plenty. My name is all over a bunch of news reports and feeds; even browsing Incognito, I feel vulnerable and exposed. I lock down my profile, making sure my avatar is still a shade. I should look like a grey silhouette to anyone in-system. Like Rusteater, when he tried to bomb the docks on Ursa Miner. Wow, feels like an eternity ago.

  Alright, if I can't find anything more on the local bosses, look lower. If the Gaian's are pulling in local support, it must be coming from somewhere. And if it's not new and obvious, it must be something established. What did Cid say? The 'local talent varies', right? So, it's probably something local and ad-hoc.

  Hmm, what about these 'Daughter's of Ganymede' I've heard about? Another private security firm; they'd have to be allies to one side or the other, right? They could be a feeder to the Gaian's, if the League recruited early. If not, then they're the usual peacekeepers, and that means this K.C. is muscling in on their turf, and they can't be happy about that. Maybe they'll give me something on their competition. I should see what I can find.

  I do a deep dive into their history. Hmm, well, the group was a grass-roots domestic protection outfit. Looks like it originally started to guard the residential levels as a sort of 'neighborhood watch'. It was founded by some socialist-feminist collective like thirty years ago, right when the diaspora was collapsing and crime and poverty soaring. Makes sense. And slowly they evolve, as Ganymede became the Jovian's tourist trap and credit sink.

  The modern Daughters of Ganymede look like they provide security around the entertainment district. For the casinos, clubs, arenas, stadiums, galleries, gladiator pits, and brothels. In fact, aside from personal bodyguards and bouncers, it looks like they're the only private security outfit on Ganymede. Oh my, seems they have a local monopoly on muscle. And how did they manage that?

  Ah, I see. They offer free security for residential levels but charge the businesses catering to tourists. Half protection, half protection racket. But since the permanent residents are safe at no cost to themselves, it gets consistent local support. And Lucy mentioned they help out elsewhere in the Jovian. They clearly have good brand management. I mean, independent vice security probably means they're dirty as hell, but that's a long way from being Gaian. Besides, looks like they've been active for decades. The League didn't even truly exist back then.

  So, it's probably worth contacting them; worse case, they tell me to jump down Jupiter's gravity well. Actually, now that I think about it, worse case they kill me, or sell me to the Gaian's for some credits or influence. I should take stock before I rush in. But then, best case? They give me what I need to expose this K.C. Maybe even take him down. Try to kill Sparrow? You Gaian's will reap what you sow.

  I smile to myself, despite the cuffs. Hah, if I manage to blow the League's cover while shot and handcuffed in my ex's bedroom, they should give me an award. Through my link, I browse the metadata for some contact information. Daughters of Ganymede are registered in the public database, and it looks like several of their members are certified to carry arms. Well, let's send a message. And your contact point is your finance officer... Cara Morgan?

  Let's see what you have to say, Cara.