Molehunt Read Free

code only when he answered. The AI computer had already sent back a password, identifying itself so the agent could communicate in confidence.
    Once Maximus was cleared, he said, ‘Start message.’
    He had expected a voice message from the field agent but instead he received a pre-recorded transmission on his holoscreen, in large pulsing letters. He stared at the letters for a long time, feeling a cold chill course down his spine.
    â€˜PRIORITY. REASON TO BELIEVE RIM HQ PENETRATED BY MOLE. IDENTITY OF MOLE SO FAR UNKNOWN. NEW EVIDENCE EXPECTED SHORTLY. SUGGEST HIGHEST SECURITY RESTRICTIONS BE PUT IN PLACE. CODE/-2435-12’.
    The transmission ended.
    Maximus entered his password and was transferred to the deciphering site. Within moments he had the agent’s name, then he sat pondering. Somewhere out there in the galaxy a field agent called Anneke Longshadow suspected a mole had infiltrated the organisation. Him, or another?
    He had disposed of Luton, and obliterated any evidence of his Quesadan activities. The least he could do! Maximus did so much without RIM’s authority that he was hard put to think what she might have on him. He had vaguely heard of her. Genetic citizen of Normansk, heavy G world, from extended human stock. Exemplary RIM rating.
    Even now she was trying to gather evidence that would identify him, that would destroy him. Again, there was a vague possibility there was someone else in HQ guiltier than himself, but how many moles with his level of expertise could there be in RIM? Maximus was sure there was only one. Now.
    Maximus. Dedicated Special Agent. Dedicated to the other side. His side. If RIM was not on his side, there was going to be trouble.
    It had to be Luton. It made sense. If one is at risk of being outed, why not leave a few revenge-bombs in the system? Maximus had had dealings with several dubious companies. Luton undoubtedly mentioned his suspicions to Anneke Longshadow – who like any good nosy agent, went looking for proof. He, Maximus, had been set up by Luton, but the set-up would not be as spectacularly successful as Maximus’s.
    Well, damn her to hell. Where she could join Luton. She was a legitimate threat to Maximus, and therefore she was a valid target. There always had to be a reason. Maximus was an otherwise perfect psychopath. That was his single flaw.
    Maximus took a deep breath and sat back in his chair, clearing his mind. He needed to think this through carefully. Every move he made at this point was critical. Timing was especially critical.
    Several moments passed before he leaned forward and ran an ID diagnostic on the transmission. A message of this importance could turn RIM HQ into a hotbed of paranoia and accusations. It had to be handled carefully. Whatever he did, it needed to look normal. He must do things expected of an agent of his youth when faced with this kind of message.
    So far so good. He allowed for what would later be seen as a moment of shock. Very good. He might be reprimanded for it, but even that would appear normal. A slap on the wrist. No more.
    Maximus smiled. He wasn’t a cold, calculating sociopath for nothing.
    While one part of his brain processed the implications of this new turn of events, he called up the relevant high security protocol on his optic implant. The latter was linked by a limited
n-space
transceiver to an external computer, augmented by a flake of artificial neurons hidden deep in his neocortex.
    There it was: a checklist of things to do, people and machines to contact.
    Once the message was verified he went down the checklist systematically, following proper procedures, but that other part of his brain never stopped, not for one nanosecond.
    Maximus sat back when he was finished. Calls would start coming in soon. He would be at the centre of a storm, but before long he would be sidelined as more senior agents stepped in, took over, ran the hunt for the mole.
    He might be unlucky enough to get a senior