he said. âI just have a few questions.â
âOf course. Itâs not as if I could refuse to answer.â
âYes, youâre right.â Felix reached under his coat for his voice-recorder.
It was a wide known bylaw that organizations of the Federation, including MAC, and even the High Council, were to yield to the GDI because the agency was charged with preserving the integrity of the Martian regime and its utopian existence. The recorder, a dowel-shaped device no longer than the palm length of the hand, was ready by its green lit bottom. âKeeping with protocol then, Iâm Special Agent Felix Ilom of the Galactic Division of Investigations, lead investigator of case number 014603, as it relates to provisions that have mysteriously disappeared over the last few months.â
ââMysteriously disappearedâ? Now thatâs an interesting euphemism,â said McBride.
âDo you have another way to describe how entire cargo depots are being cleared of goods?â
âThe provisions were stolen.â
Felix eyed the MAC soldier, and then said, âHow do you know they were stolen?â
âSmall talk among the rank-and-file.â
âAmong the rank-and-file,â he said. âIs there small talk of a who among the quote-unquote rank-and-file?â
âNo one comes to mind.â
âAny ideas about why governmental provisions are being targeted? Is there an independent faction wanting to break away?â
âI donât know,â she said, âbut now that you mention it, the stolen provisions are enough to feed a growing army.â
âQuestion is how much does this growing army need?â
âI didnât say it was an army for certain.â
Felix smiled. âOf course you didnât,â he said. âYou were on duty at the time these provisions were stolenâis that correct?â
âYes, from 19:30 to 04:30.â
âWhere were you most of the time?â
âAt the surveillance desk.â
âAnd you didnât see anything unusual on the cameras?â
âNo.â
âWhat percentage of time did you spend at the desk as opposed to foot patrol?â
âI donât know percentage of time, Detective Ilom. I do know at the top of every hour, I was on foot patrol for twenty minutes. I also know for sure that during my shift I saw nothing and heard nothing.â
âNothing at all?â
âThatâs correct.â
âOK, thatâs all I have to ask you for now,â said Felix, looking at and stopping the voice-recorder; its bottom now yellow. âThank you for your time, Private.â
âMy pleasure.â McBride turned about and walked off.
âIf I have any more questionsââ
âThen it shouldnât be hard for you to find me,â she said from over her shoulder. âAfter all, you are GDI.â
âThat I am,â Felix said, his words reverberating off the alloy walls as he put the truth-stickâas the recorder is sometimes calledâaway after it indicated deceit by the amber light. Then under his breath while watching McBrideâs retreating figure, he said, âI should have asked you to join me for breakfast. It wouldâve been interesting to hear you lie some more.â She passed the entrance and turned left once she was in the corridor.
Felix checked his watch for the time; it was 06:35. Having been up for almost two hours since being called out of bed to the storage facility at the urgent request of his commander, he did not have a chance to eat anything, and his stomach weakened during the questioning of the private.
Controlling his hunger, Felix reached inside a coat pocket and pulled out a headset. Unfolding the communiqué peripherals, he slipped the earpiece over his left ear and let a cord dangle as he adjusted the mic on his Adamâs apple. He went under his coat again and retrieved his com-link, and then
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