Seraph didn't really have to work today, or even tomorrow; she could just turn this into a four-day weekend, and was, to a certain extent, tempted to do so; get a kitty for less than she expected, and then have four whole days for it to get used to her... it would be great. But... on the other hand, she wanted to check the next subject. See how much effort it was going to take, how many old assets she could re-use, the whole nine yards; if she knew it would be a quick one, she might go right ahead, or even hurry up and handle it fast and just wait to report in... so that she could turn a four-day weekend even longer.
She whistled to herself as she walked past the front gate; her badge blinking for a moment, Bobby giving her a nod as she walked by; she admired him for just a moment; Alliance Intelligence didn't pick mall-cops for its security. It picked capable, confident people; and unfortunately, despite being handsome and single, Robert was very, very gay. And the second shift guard, Priscilla, was very, very not gay, equally tragic.
They sometimes did more in-depth screenings; but they'd completed a genetic profile when she started, her badge would only work for her, so just a casual scan to verify it was her badge, she was wearing it, and she hadn't used the tiny slip built into it to report she was under duress... Bobby's HUD would flag him if there was a problem. Ninety nine percent of the time, she walked right through.
This time was no different; the Alliance military campus included a variety of structures in a nice secure block attached to the Starport. Her own office was one of the lower floors of Alliance Intelligence Headquarters; a massive, towering, silver structure whose own guards were a bit more serious than Robert out at the gate. Not that they checked more thoroughly, but they wore helmets and body-armor at all times, and had rifles... definitely a bit of a drag.
As she stepped inside, and briskly walked into the elevator, she got a jealous look from the secretary at the front desk; she had to be here nine to five, every day, monday through friday... and wasn't paid nearly as well as Seraph, though she might not know just how big a difference there was.
She had to badge into the elevator... into her office... her computer didn't just need a badge, but a scan of her eyes, fingerprints, and a password... and, of course, there was another spot there to trigger a silent alarm. Soooo much security.
Finally, she was there, settled in at her desk, with the next subject file ready to go. Victor Starr, another gene-aug; this one originally intended as a simple menial laborer, but he'd escaped, turned soldier or mercenary and was believed to be ASU. The very fact that he had an implant was confirmation enough of that; they weren't expensive, but nobody would bother implanting some slave whose job was digging ditches. They only did that for slaves that had skills that could be useful once they were digitized; Jacob had been a pilot, and had likely been implanted even before he'd escaped and joined the ASU.
There were some files on the subject; a complete body-scan, the bare minimum they'd need to make the sim believable. A scan of the location he'd been when he died. Known associates and history.
The information they wanted; aside from anything that would be revealed by happenstance, was anything about who helped him escape the plantation, how he'd had his obedience collar removed and made orbit. For the thousandth time she wished they had a computer good enough to just decrypt his memories, let them actually just read through everything they knew.... it would make her job a bit less fun, but far, far easier.
So. She had a laborer-turned-muscle who'd been gunned down... alongside Jacob, her previous subject. Nice, she could make use of that. What she'd learned from him, and the file on his own body, would be useful. She might even bring Jacob himself in, if she found a good way to do it... but to maintain the integrity of the Sim, she'd need to make her new subject spend a subjective year stranded, too.
Who would he willingly tell about the people who helped him escape? If she did a sim of other ASU people, they should already have access to that information. There was an obvious answer.... someone in the same region as he'd been, another slave.
She gave a nod as she studied her stored files, and tapped out a message; requesting the camera data from one of the plantations for a few weeks in the area Victor had worked. 'Starr' was a name he gave himself post-liberation, so there was no Starr family to locate.
She started compiling sims based on an Alliance military transport, a crash site... it seemed about half the time she did this she ended up simulating a starship crash... and nodded to herself. This should be trivial. She could go buy herself a cat and spend the day relaxing, and when she came back tomorrow, use the camera data to generate the sim of the plantation... and be all set.
She started to just leave... only to stop. That was two men from the same ASU team that had been taken. Were there any others? Could she resolve multiple cases at once, get herself even further ahead?
There were... two former laborers, both from the same region, but they'd only sent her one. If she couldn't get info from him, she could try one of the others, but she should only need to do one. This... was a bit of a disappointment, but meant this was less risky. Two former engineers who were flight crew on the ship, neither of whom were ever slaves, just different varieties of gene-augs from some other star-nation that considered them normal... and a pilot who was red-flagged.
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He was un-augmented, a natural-born human from outside the Alliance. Legally, there were limits on what she could put him through in the sim, and neither the total perceptive nor chronological time before he was released could be longer than the 40-year sentence for aiding and abetting the theft of gene-aug slaves; he'd been sentenced as soon as his case had gone before a judge, but from him, they wanted more.
She could lie to him, deceive him in all sorts of ways, but she couldn't subject him to feelings of pain, starvation, or extremes of temperature unless he went through them voluntarily in the sim. He'd been automatically assigned a lawyer, and she'd need to give the lawyer access to him at the end of his sentence, as well as recordings of everything he'd gone through.
He was an ASU member, though. She'd dealt with them before; the absolute worst she'd get was a slap on the wrist. Best not to actually put him through all 40 years though; if she did, she'd have to release him into the public stacks, and he could warn his friends what was going on.... and likely get a new sentence for doing so immediately.
Victor would be trivial. The female engineer, Janice? She'd be just as easy, they just wanted to confirm technical details of ASU ships. That un-augmented, Terry? He'd be a problem.
She had access to about a third of the crew of the ship they'd been on, and what the wreckage was like during the capture. If she could think of a good scenario involving most of them, it'd be more believable; she'd leave that for later, though. For Victor, it was best do to him solo.
***
When the request was properly filed, Seraph headed back out; when she had all the recordings tomorrow morning, she could produce a nice, convincing sim of the region where Victor had always worked; and she already had a few possible game plans for getting him to talk. None of that was important for right now, though.
With a smirk at the secretary; now likely even more pissed at the younger technician; Seraph tapped the code Tracy had given her into her wrist.
"Hello there! Hi, this is Seraph Glass, a friend of mine, Tracy, gave me this number to call about a cat?"
A soft beep. A male voice on the other end. ~Oh, good lord. You know we don't arrange for cat-people gene-augs, right? Just the four-legged variety?~
"Yep! Not looking for some cat-boy or cat-girl. Just a cat! I always wanted one, and, well. Now I'm old enough, and have a decent enough job with the Alliance, to afford a real one and not just a sim."
~Good, good. So I'm assuming Tracy explained what we do; find new owners for cats whose people died on them?~
"Exactly. A kitten would be nice, but I'd love to take an older cat." Seraph nodded at Robbie, as she stepped out onto the street, looking around; completely ignoring the pair of cybernetic eyes that watched as she turned for home.
~Nice! Well then. I've got a few possibilities at present, but they all go quickly. Mostly about five thousand credits for the cat is the standard rate~
Seraph grimaced. She could get a decent two-person car for that; or a used air-car. Still. It was closer to ten for a kitten, and her bonus would be more than that. "Mostly? Is there something different?"
~Well, I've got one guy who says there's a possible offer at a reduced rate, but its got some kind of stipulation attached. I can pass you along, if you'd like.~
Reduced rate? What kind of stipulation could it be? "Well. Worth hearing about. Sure. I'll take his number."
A soft beep. She'd received a message. "Okay. Thanks! If it doesn't work out, I'll be calling back!"
Her feet had been moving on auto-pilot the whole time. As she swapped numbers, she badged herself into her apartment, sealing it behind herself... and leaning back against the door as it rang.
"Hi! This is Seraph Glass, calling to ask about the cat? I was told there was some sort of odd stipulation bit?"
A moment of silence. ~Well. Bryce Johnson here. The cat's been staying with me, but belonged, or belongs, to a Navy officer, my brother, who no longer has a physical body after his ship ran into an ambush out in independent space. The cat would be five thousand credits, or five hundred if you'd allow him to inhabit a drone and watch the cat while you work.~
She blinked. The idea of some dead guy wandering around her apartment as a drone was... disconcerting. ".. I'd... need to see the agreement. And meet the cat."
~What are your normal working hours?~
"Nine to five is my standard schedule." She tapped the fridge. The ingredients list popped up, and she considered what she'd have for lunch.
~Six o'clock tonight, if that works for you.~
"Sure does! Can make it earlier, if you'd like; things are a bit slow at work, they won't care if I go early."
~Oh. Well then, three work?~
"Fine by me. Pass me the address." She tapped a few buttons; and some chicken started cooking, auto-dispensed into the oven. "Oh... thats just a few blocks away. But then, he was Alliance, so no real surprise. I'll be there." She tapped her wrist again, smiling as the smell of chicken started to fill the apartment. This would be great! She couldn't wait to see what the cat looked like.
***
The hooded figure stared at her apartment for a few seconds before continuing on his way.
This was proving a bit more distressing. Her hours were inconsistent. Her path predictable, but he'd been interrupted in eating lunch to follow her home... and she didn't seem to be going back to work. The city had windows in its security, like any city did, but if he was going to pull her through one of those, he needed to plan for the right moment. Or just make plans and pray it would work.
She was oblivious, and barely noticed anything around her, which was nice. But... he might need to study her for days, weeks, to find good openings. He'd just have to keep ration bars on him, and actually stake her out for a few days... which would be hard. He'd need to find somewhere... anywhere... that didn't have someone scan it periodically. Which, here in the city, likely meant....
He glanced down. The sewers. Those were only checked once a week, and by maintenance techs, not security. This promised to be a lovely experience.