Jupiter's Halo Book Two: The Fall

Chapter Four

The last words spoken still rang loud in her mind. To mess with something so obviously open to catastrophe was both the height of stupidity and also so very, very typical of these people. The reports weren’t confirmed one-hundred per cent, but a feeling in her gut was already telling her she’d find them to be accurate.

Admina looked into the eyes of her target. The image was a capture taken from closed security cameras, but the low angle meant the girl was almost looking dead-on down the lens.

She was pretty, in a simple kind of way. Her short cut hair and unmade features spoke of a utilitarian personality; one who concentrated on tasks and outcomes rather than vanity. The eyes were different though. There was a sparkle there, an innocence and excitement that told Admina this girl had no experience of the true harshness that was the world they lived in.

“The persona data is still being chronicled, however, you will find the record more than sufficient to commence your adaption.”

She heard the voice of Grayson, once her mentor, now her Controller, but her stare remained fixed on the image ahead.

“Your surgery is scheduled for this afternoon. There seems little point in learning the appropriate affectations if they are being displayed by the wrong face.”

She could hear the smile in his voice but knew if she looked at him his expression would be impassive. It was about as close as he came to making a real joke. That was Grayson; ever the serious professional, never a c***k showing in his flawless exterior, his mind forever focused on the task.

To a point she envied him. He was the model of behaviour she had worked so hard to attain. But then again she felt pity for the bleakness of his life. There was nothing there but the work he had dedicated his years to. That was the bargain, the one she had never truly been sure she could make. She acted the part of course, but deep down she understood the few small aspects of her behaviour that kept her falling short were not unconscious habits. They were anchors to her past, her life, herself, that she just couldn’t fully let go of.

“According to the gathered intel, you have two months. We have guided the selection to ensure she is the most viable candidate and the transfer needs to be effected prior to her assignment being issued. I need your understanding to be clear on this Red.”

Admina nodded, noting his use of her nickname to ensure she was paying attention.

“Look at me.” He commanded in a tone she’d always thought of as ‘teacherly’.

Admina blinked her eyes to moisten their dryness before turning them slowly and deliberately on him. Grayson’s left eyebrow twitched up but his stare remained stony as ever.

“We simply cannot afford to miss this deadline. You cannot afford to. There will be no option for replacement once she is en-route and absolutely no question of doing so once she arrives. There must be no suspicion, understand?”

Admina held his stare. She nodded gently, letting her chin dip the slightest amount while her eyes remained fixed. Grayson seemed nonplussed by her best unsettling stare. He’d trained a dozen agents before her and she didn’t doubt he’d see a dozen more after she was gone. To him, they were probably all the same, but she knew there were none like her. Not really, not when it counted.

She liked to mirror his reserved aspect, his distance from emotion and reaction. It was a game she played to see if she could find a c***k, a weakness in his well-practised veneer. Maybe one day she’d break through the wall he maintained, but from the unflinching face she looked on now she knew it would not be today.

“You have superlative skills, but don’t let that disillusion you. This mission is like none other you have faced before; it will test you in ways you are as yet unaware of and the price of failure will be paid by everyone. Make no mistake, we are at war and your actions will determine the fate of our people.”

Grayson narrowed his eyes as he spoke, a small gesture for anyone else, but practically a marsquake on his usually impassive features. The message was clear enough; there was no room for error this time.

Admina wanted to hold his stare, push him further to see if he’d let a real emotion through, but she didn’t have the will.

“I understand.” She said in a quiet tone, letting him know the severity of the situation was not lost on her.

He almost smiled. There was a twitch, just a twitch from one corner of his mouth. Admina turned her eyes back to the frozen image of her target. Grayson stepped beside her, standing close and facing toward the projection. The proximity was enough to be unnerving. She could smell the faint scent he carried, hear the steady rhythm of his breathing. He was a powerful man, despite his reserved aspect and austere appearance. He dressed like a clerk with featureless, dark clothes and short cut hair. To look at he seemed to carry no threat. Until you got close and looked into his eyes and then it would be too late. She remembered well her early lessons where he demonstrated just how painful broken bones could be and then forced her to fight on, crippled and weeping, against her arms instructor.

It was preparation. Everything he did had been preparation and though she’d hated him in her early years, the experiences he taught had seen her through situations since that she would otherwise have never survived.

“She has no idea,” Admina muttered.

Grayson simply gave a little snort. The target couldn’t be allowed to know what was going to happen. If she gained even the faintest clue of what her future held the entire mission would be compromised and with it the future of Mars.

After another few seconds in silence, he spoke.

“You have places to be.” Admina turned and nodded to him before making her way to the door. “The system will continue compiling data and you will be alerted when the persona profile is complete.”

Admina didn’t stop or turn. He was only telling her things she already knew. The life of a Chameleon was a never-ending procession of new faces, new habits and new profiles. She had taken many names, many guises over the years. She knew well how the process worked.

Admina placed her open palm against the door, feeling the tiny vibration as it was read before the panel slide silently into the wall to reveal the exit.

Outside the corridor broke left and right. Dead ahead, squatting against the clay-coloured wall and grinning like a circus fool was a man in the rich clothes of the Martian aristocracy. He turned his eyes on her as the door slid closed and faded to blend into the wall on either side.

“Greetings sister mine, how are you on this fine day?” Admina rolled her eyes at his formal address. “Or should I say who are you?” His grin widened further.

Admina gave him a pained look before turning and marching away along the corridor. She had preparations still to make before the first of the surgeries and spending time dodging her clownish brother’s questions was not one of them.

“Come now dear sister,” he said, leaping to his feet and jogging to catch her up. “Surely you can spare a little time for your only loving brother?”

Admina increased her pace and he laughed as he followed suit, his long legs easily eating up her shorter strides.

“Maybe if said brother wasn’t asking me to disclose sensitive information I would.” She replied haughtily. “However, as he is fully aware I cannot answer his question I can only assume his intention is to irritate me and for that, no, I have no time at all.”

He jogged past her, stepping around to come in front and holding his hands up at her shoulders. Admina stopped, raising her eyebrows to communicate her straining patience and remind him which of them had been highly trained in the art of martial combat.

“Please, please,” he said, carefully bringing his arms back to stop touching her. “I simply want to be included is all. This whole place is in uproar, albeit no one will admit the fact and then I hear you’ve been called for a priority mission and I just know you’re right in the middle of things.”

“Martius, I cannot tell you.” Admina tried.

She knew it was pointless. Martius was the older, heir to the family fortune and likely a future candidate for governorship of Mars, but for all that he was not in the service and so had no business questioning her on official matters. Every time she had a mission he was the same; desperate for gossip, for details she couldn’t give. He wanted to live vicariously through her, but she couldn’t allow it. She understood. As heir apparent his life was carefully managed to reduce risk and groom him for a future she knew he didn’t want. The Earone family all but ran the red planet and yet somehow that translated to Martius enjoying less freedom than an indentured ice miner.

She pitied him, felt sympathy for his problems but that didn’t mean she would risk a security breach just to alleviate his boredom. She loved him, but he had a big mouth. Especially loose when he was drinking and nowadays that seemed to be more often than not.

“Just tell me something. Anything. I beg you.” He pleaded. “Or perhaps just let me guess? You don’t have to say anything. If I’m right, just give a little nod. I promise I’ll remain discreet.”

Admina wanted to laugh. If it weren’t for years of expensive tutoring Martius wouldn’t even know the word discreet. As it was she still believed he thoroughly misunderstood its definition.

“I cannot-”

“It’s off-planet?” He interrupted.

Admina sighed and dropped her head to one side, eyebrows raised again.

“I will not play this game with you.”

“It’s the Halo. Is it the Halo? It’s the Halo isn’t it?” He practically bounced with excitement as he spoke and Admina found a smile creeping across her lips at his foolishness.

“It is the Halo!” He declared triumphantly and loudly, his voice echoing down the empty corridors.

Admina closed her eyes and thought of the word ‘discreet’ again.