Origins by Jamie Sawyer Page A

wanted intel from me.”
    â€œThey picked the wrong trooper there,” said Jenkins.
    Kaminski smiled. “Sure did, girl. When I didn’t tell them anything, they started to use the staples.”
    â€œThat shit been scanned for tracking tech?” I said.
    â€œOf course,” Jenkins replied. “None of it is traceable.”
    Even so, we couldn’t rule out the possibility that one or more of the POWs had been implanted with a tracer. Although over interstellar distances it would do the Directorate no good, the Chino played for the long game: I didn’t want this to be something that they could use against us on a future occasion. The nerve-staples would have to come out once we got to a proper medical facility.
    â€œDid they tell you anything?” I asked.
    â€œThat isn’t how an interrogation works,” Jenkins said. “And this is too early, Harris.”
    I knew that I was pushing it too far now, that I should leave this. Debriefing of a POW was for Mili-Intel, and Jenkins was right – it was far too early – but I had to know.
    â€œIt’s okay,” Kaminski insisted. “They didn’t so much as
tell
me anything, but we talked among ourselves.”’Ski raised his shoulders; still muscled despite his ordeal. “We heard things.”
    â€œSuch as?”
    He sighed, and his reaction made me all the more eager to hear what he had to say.
    â€œGo on.”
    â€œWe heard that they had the Key,” Kaminski muttered. “They said that they had the Shard Key.”
    â€œHow is that possible…?” I started. “I saw it destroyed…”
    Jenkins gave me a hard look. “I’ve read your debrief,” she said. “You left it aboard the Artefact. You never actually
saw
it destroyed.”
    I rubbed my chin, let that thought bounce around my head. In Damascus, I’d used the Key to activate the Artefact – to open the Shard Gate – and then I’d extracted. I’d left it there, confident in the knowledge that it could never be retrieved and used against us…
    â€œI don’t know why they’d want it,” Kaminski said, “but it’s Shard, and the Directorate seem to want pretty much anything Shard. But listen, don’t read too much into it. For all I know, it might be wrong.”
    I nodded, although it was hard not to. “Anything else?”
    â€œJust that the Asiatic Directorate really hates you,” Kaminski said. “They told me that Director-General Zhang himself knows your name, and that he wants you dead.”
    â€œI’m flattered, but I’m still waiting.”
    Zhang: premier of the Asiatic Directorate, leader of over two-thirds of the population of explored space. His counterpart – President Francis – had been assassinated at some point while we were away in Damascus. We still didn’t know whether there was any connection there, but the Directorate had assumed responsibility for the incident.
    â€œThat was all they said,” Kaminski added. “Thanks for coming back for me.”
    â€œYou should never have been left out there in the first place,” Jenkins said. “You can thank James and Loeb for that.”
    Kaminski didn’t react, and his face was accepting. That was the lot of a soldier: the risk that a man took when he went into the Maelstrom.
    â€œWhat about the Warfighters?” I asked. “Did you see them on Capa?”
    Kaminski pulled a face at Jenkins. “I told you that I never trusted Williams.”
    â€œThat wasn’t the question,” she said.
    He shook his head. “I don’t think so. But, if what Jenkins tells me is true, they could be anywhere now. Until Command and Sci-Div let you in on the Next-Gen Project…”
    Next-gen simulants were almost indistinguishable from human bodies. Wearing those skins, the Warfighters could be anywhere, and
that
did spook me. I shivered