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“Prototypes have been stolen from us and now there’s a dead body. Zero, we have to find out what’s going on in the distribution center and who’s behind it.”

As always, the manager of the Research, Development and Logistics department sat behind his desk. The gold Crusader Industries pin on the chest of his crumpled blue shirt flashed in the sunlight as it rose and fell in time with his excited breathing. I stood in front of the desk and looked at him in silence. After a short pause, he continued.

“I would like to use your excellent investigative skills for a good cause and bring you into the Distribution Center as an undercover agent. You will be deployed as a temporary employee in the warehouse area for a week. Provided you agree. But I’m convinced that you’ll manage without any problems. Especially as you are experienced in dealing with shady people.”

I took a deep breath to say something back. But then I breathed out again very slowly without saying anything. My head nodded almost imperceptibly.

*

My disguise was appropriate. Anthracite safety helmet with headlamp, safety goggles, gray warehouse worker jacket with lots of pockets, gray work trousers with protectors, gloves and boots. It was not only appropriate, but also inconspicuous. In the dim light of the warehouse area in the distribution center, my grey outfit made me blend in with my surroundings. Hardly anyone noticed me sneaking through the aisles away from work.

The warehouse area of the Distribution Center was huge. Long aisles with separate driveways and walkways and high halls in which freight containers hung from magnetic walls up to the ceiling. Containers and boxes were also piled up everywhere on the floor. In between were forklift trucks and hovertrollies. The whole thing was accompanied by the constant humming of the sophisticated machinery, which meshed like cogwheels and meticulously processed the freight. Warehouse workers ran back and forth busily, doing what the machines could not.

Interestingly, just like in the administration area above, there were maintenance corridors one level below. Through these, you could move through the Distribution Center completely unnoticed. Like a ghost, you could disappear in one place and suddenly reappear in a completely different place.

The work was monotonous. Most of the time, I was on the road in a Mule transport vehicle, taking freight boxes from one point of the Distribution Center to another. Mostly indoors, sometimes outside in the cold.

Like many other workers, I slept in the Distribution Center. There was a sleeping and recreation room upstairs in the administration area where we could also eat. Every evening, someone else was responsible for the food. Some tried their hand at cooking and prepared real food. The real thing with chopping ingredients and cooking on a hob. It wasn’t always delicious what was simmering away in the pan. Once I went to the stove with interest and raised my head above the pan. The rising smells made me flinch. I had no idea if the guy was trying to poison us.

Evenings together were good opportunities to socialize. I cautiously tried to build up trust, get information out of the others and investigate rumors. But time was running out. The days went by without me finding out anything significant.

Until, on my penultimate day, I met someone in the waiting area where the couriers were waiting for their orders. It was a burly, bearded guy with an angular face. The kind of person who not only did his job, but was always looking for an opportunity to put a little money in his own pocket.

He was standing in a corner with his back to the room. I sat at one of the many tables and drank a coffee. His body concealed the fact that he was putting something away in a box. I got up quietly, stood next to him and spoke to him softly.

“If a delivery needs to be taken to an alternative location, I can help.”

Without looking at me, he replied in a deep, grumpy voice.

“You’re one of the temporary workers who leave after a week?”

“Yes, exactly. And that brings the possibility of me officially leaving tomorrow and taking something with me.”

He looked around for a moment, then said.

“The dispatcher is responsible for distributing the courier orders. Talk to him about the courier shipments to the Outpost.”

Then he turned and left the waiting room. I was alone in the room. There was no one behind the counter where the dispatcher usually stood. He was probably in the toilet for a moment. This was an opportunity to take a look behind the counter. I hesitated. Warehouse workers and couriers were not allowed behind the counter. Only the dispatcher was allowed to be there. But what bad could happen if I was caught? If they threw me out, it wasn’t a problem. I didn’t lose my job because of it.

Unless there was some really crooked business going on here and my cover was blown. Then things would look very different. There was already one dead man here. The contact man from Crusader Industries. It wasn’t yet clear whether it was an accident. Maybe he had found out something and had been found out. Maybe someone had made it look like an accident and killed him to cover up what he’d found out.

How much time did I have? How long would it be before the dispatcher was back or someone else arrived? The longer I stood here thinking, the less time I had. I was torn. Was it worth the risk? Did I have any obligation to Crusader Industries? I could just leave tomorrow and say I hadn’t found out anything.

“Damn you Zero! You’re a loyal idiot!” I said to myself as I ran to the counter.

Crusader Industries had given me a fresh start. I couldn’t ignore that.

I hurried around the counter. As soon as I reached the other side, I stopped in surprise. There was a crate stored directly under the dispatcher’s monitor on the counter. There was an ammunition symbol on the box. I approached hesitantly and examined the box on my knees.

When I opened it, I couldn’t believe my eyes. I reached in and took out an optic for a weapon. It had a residual light amplifier. This was military technology that couldn’t be bought on the open market. And it certainly had no place under a dispatcher’s counter.

I stood up and activated the monitor. I quickly established a wireless connection to my Mobiglas to copy the order lists. Then I knelt down behind the counter again and waited for the copying process to finish.

The rumbling sound of the door suddenly echoed through the room. Startled, I held my breath. Footsteps were coming closer, right towards the counter. They weren’t the footsteps of work boots, but of loafers. It had to be the dispatcher coming back. Instinctively, I crouched down even smaller behind the counter.

The footsteps came closer and closer, then stopped. I was still holding my breath and closed my eyes in anticipation of what was about to happen. Then the footsteps could be heard again. They moved away to the right and fell silent again. A beep sounded from the right. Could it be coming from the drinks machine that was there?

Finally, I heard the rumble of a can of drink falling through the machine. In a flash, I seized the opportunity and jumped over the counter. The dispatcher was standing in front of the drinks machine with his back to me. Startled, he turned around when he heard me.

I approached him in a hurry and said.

“I need one of those now. I’m dying of thirst. Long shift.”

The dispatcher looked at me, somewhat irritated by my sudden appearance. Without paying any further attention to him, I pressed the button on the vending machine. A can fell to the dispenser with a clatter. I took it and headed for the exit. Halfway there, I lifted the can over my head as I walked and said, without turning around.

“Got to get going. The shift isn’t over yet.”

The copying process was now complete.

*

The next day I flew back to Orison to meet the manager.

“Thank you Zero for your efforts. It looks like the activities have now shifted to another distribution center. We now have an undercover agent working there as well. I don’t yet know whether official agencies are involved. I would therefore like to continue using their services. For one last mission. We now have enough evidence for an official investigation at the Distribution Center. I have contacted someone at Microtech whom I trust. I would like to send you as a special investigator to work with this person to clear up the matter.”

“Seriously?”

My response was tired and dry. The manager smiled at me.

“OK, just this one last thing. Then I’m out of here.”

“Thanks Zero. I’ll show my appreciation.”

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