PsychoCIDE

Chapter 11: The Spook

No Officer of the Law shall conduct themselves in such a manner as to dishonor the service. They shall at all times conduct themselves in a forthright and dignified manner and shall abstain from vice of all kinds in both a professional and private context. Officers who are found to be wanting of this standard shall be evaluated by a duly appointed prelate of the magisterium.

-Code of Conduct, Trinity Constabulary

Before me the Joseph Alephecture stretched up and up, clinging to the end plate of the habitat like a cliff dweller city. It was funny, really. If I looked up I could see across the diameter of the end plate and to the Davidian Terminal where all the previous day's attempted murder had played out. It was more than a little surreal.

I gave myself a three count to collect myself. All my responsibilities were going to come crashing back as soon as I walked through those doors and I had to do it alone.

The Alephecture was more than just the local headquarters for Inspectors like me. We shared the territory with any number of vital Ark government bodies. For each habitat the Alephecture was the place where the backbone of the information system cracked open and the nerves spilled forth. Everything that was transmitted or received on this Habitat was accessible and controllable from the Alephecture. People still encrypted their communications and there were certainly a half a million ways to evade the scrutiny of the polity but if you wanted to access and analyze information then the local Alephecture was the place to go. Deep inside the central core of the Ark itself was a Prime Alephecture to which all lesser Alephecture were slaved. It was manned by the Cardinality of Fulvius Judah and it was his control of that place that made him master of the Ark.

If security around the Davidian Terminal was tight then there wasn't really a word for the Alephecture. There was a hundred meter No-Go Zone that surrounded the entrance to the central nervous system of the Joseph Habitat. It was perfectly empty of structure and absolutely flat. I paused at the absolute perimeter demarcated by warnings splattered across every AR channel in use and a thick band of yellow tiles twenty meters wide, beyond the yellow stretch was a 30 meter band of orange and finally it was red for the last fifty meters.

Walk into the yellow and you would be advised to turn back, strongly. Touch the Orange Tiles and you would be arrested, violently, and slammed in the choirs for ten years with no possibility of parole. If you managed to get yourself into the red Zone unauthorized then the defenders were legally obligated to destroy your body and immolate your soul. Should they fail to carry through in killing you utterly the defenders could be prosecuted.

As a result I was always certain to make sure my clearance was up to snuff. I queried the defenders and received confirmation that I was approved to proceed into the yellow zone.

The locals gave the Alephecture a wide berth, for obvious reasons, so it was quiet with only the far off bustle of the downtown to score the click of my hard toed boots on the ceramic tiles. I paused a meter before the Orange Zone and once again waited for confirmation of clearance. There was a slight ripple off to my left as one of the shrouded defenders gave me a nod and I proceeded. All the defenses here had hearts and minds behind them, Paladins of the orders and full kitted templar cataphracts. They were configured for close combat so they generally eschewed weapons that might crack the Habitat open but given cause they could and would deploy such options.

The final walk was always a bit hair raising. You couldn't help but feel your heart race as you made the step onto those crimson tiles. I was cleared and there was only a slight hitch in my step.

Adam-Samson St. Kern and Roberta St. Magrat were on duty today and the two Paladin's were sitting on tiny stools in front of the main door to the Alephecture. Roberta was engaging in some small talk with her counterpart who was absent mindedly cleaning his enormous half moon blade. All of the lurking templars were bound to Roberta body and soul and when they fought it was at her will and with her puissance at their back. Those myrmidons were her strength. Adam-Samson had no blooded cohort at his beck but that merely meant that he hoarded all the power to himself.