We began a very slow dance, easing ourselves into the middle of the growing crowd and moving into a closer embrace that was normal even for a waltz.
“How is the ship?” I asked.
“Stricken, but functional. Half our missile launchers are inoperative, and most of the telescopes and radars cannot be deployed any more. We have our inter-ship laser communications working again, but it is unclear how many other ships are still able to talk.
“The engineers think they can remove the – what are they calling them? Glue bugs? - with a stream of hot oxygen followed by hot hydrogen, which should vaporize the bugs and burn them back to carbon dioxide and methane, but we will run out of water if we use it all in cleaning the ship. Still, I believe we must do it.
“I am more concerned for the other ships in the fleet. They got started later than we did, having not received most of the warnings I sent through MI. We have one other frigate in Earth orbit that is capable of fighting, but our second battle ship, the other frigates, the fast attack ships and transports are largely inoperative. On some there seems to be open mutiny, with marines, sailors and MI all fighting each other.
“The attack seems to have focused on ships near the Earth. The Lunar fleet seems largely unaffected, although they have found glue bugs in commercial freighters arriving from the Earth, and several branches of MI have gone silent. I do not yet know about L1, L2 or Mars itself. Thank heavens, Molongo was able to route messages through his Council communications to the Admiral and then directly to individual captains, or we would not know any of this.”
I felt the chill of a Martian night in my bones and a shift as the Ghost took control.
“My Lord Hemu, do you know more about the incoming fleet of stealth ships?”
He replied, “Did you not receive those images? No, I suppose MI was blocking that as well. We have more images, and can confirm that several fleets are approaching. The tracks are still uncertain, but are consistent with some vessels approaching the Earth, and some likely to proceed to L1. I expect there must be a similar fleet approaching L2, but we have nothing in position to detect them yet. Oddest of all, there are some that seem to be targeted part ways between the Earth and the Moon, and those may be decelerating as they approach. If they have rail guns, they may be firing, but at what?”
“My Lord Hemu, you are aware that all the Belter ships are scrambling to leave as soon as possible. I should have asked before; do you know if the Martian freighters are similarly requesting advanced departure dates?”
“Lord Oberon, I do not believe there are any at the earth stations right now. The last ship belonging to a Martian company left three days ago.”
“My Lord Hemu, you know I have a very dark foreboding about these events. Puck provided a succinct summary of what we agents have discussed. It is my personal opinion that the Earth has already fallen under the sway of the Imperium and we will receive no official support from them. I am deeply concerned about the survival of the TDF as a fighting force. If what you say is true, we cannot fight the attacking forces. We would be destroyed and all future operations would become impossible. The TDF officers and crews will want to fight, and the Ministers we have aboard will feel duty bound to fight, but such a battle would merely cause loses that we could not recoup. I would beg you to resist that temptation. Instead, consider the options of surrendering the entire fleet intact, or of withdrawing into interplanetary space until we are again capable of battle.
“I know what I ask is terrible. You would be branded as a coward and a traitor forever, but the Earth would live and the TDF would survive to fight again. Do not decide now, but let us talk to the Ministers. They will know more about the political and economic situation.”
I had not dared to look Wang in the face while I made that suggestion, and glancing up now I saw he was livid with rage.
“Lord Oberon, if this were not a soiree, I would have you arrested and shot for that treason.”
He pushed away abruptly. Internally, I flickered between being the Cripple, a broken man playing at being an agent in CI who just wanted to apologize, and being the Ghost who knew what had to be done at any cost to myself. The Earth must survive. Mars must survive. The Moon and Belt must survive. Justice must be served. The Cripple assented, but still wanted to apologize. The Ghost turned me away and sent me searching for Very Senior Minister Morris.
I found Molongo first. He introduced himself as Marcus, very straightforward for the most senior officer in MI.
I started, “My Lord Marcus, may I ask...”
“No, no crap, Douglas. I sent my chief of staff to start the interrogations. You have met him already. He was a member of Internal Affairs until his management skills forced him up the command chain. He is working with Chandrapati now, but I may have to leave on short notice if they uncover evidence for treason in my own service. I do not know who to trust anymore.
“Thank God, you caught the anomaly in the threat assessment for the bug, or we would be flying blind and mute into this disaster. I can bypass MI by routing messages through my Council staff, and it sounds like the Captains I could reach are loyal, but suppose some of them have turned and are only pretending to be loyal? There are some who did not respond at all. I am worried about the Manila Bay, a nearby frigate that has been almost silent for over a day. There has been bad blood between sailors and marines ever since the Incursion. On the Mao, the marines are loyal, but can we trust the sailors? Can I even trust you? Do not give me soiree crap, Douglas. We are in enough of it already.”
Darkly pessimistic, but not as dark as my more realistic evaluation of our situation.
“My Lord Marcus, we have been flying blind and mute for an unknown length of time. We just found this problem today. Captain Wang has been fighting for control of his ship since he received his first warning, and has sent a third of his crew to the brig on the ESDENG. There were both marines and sailors in that group. I expect that the Mao still has well-concealed traitors, but for the most part the remaining crew seem reliable.
“I would wonder how far the rot has progressed. Can you trust the Admiral? Can you trust the TDF General Staff? Can you trust the Terrestrial Council itself? Everyone facing a crisis will make choices according to motives that they often cannot or will not explain to anyone else, maybe not even to themselves.
“Soldiers are special because they drill constantly to obey the orders their officers give them, but mid-level officers have led half the coup d’états in history. Can we trust the military to obey legitimate orders from the Council, and can we trust the Council to give orders in the best interest of the Earth, not just their private political and financial interests?
“I say this and no one pays attention: Do not trust me. You do not know my motives, even if you think you do. I sometimes feel like Cassandra. Everyone listens to my warnings, but they ignore them and no one wonders why I give them.”
It was too much! A low screaming filled the back of my head.
“Please, My Lord Marcus, talk to Captain Wang and raise your issues of trust.”
And then I had to stop talking and turn away, before I broke down completely. I drifted into a corner and imagined the sands of Mars blowing ceaselessly past my suit, burying me. I would burrow deep into a dune and lie safely hidden for the night. Tomorrow would be another day.
But someone touched my arm and I turned around to find Senior Minister Singh. “If you please, My Lord Oberon, my name is Anastasia. I believe you were searching for Mahatma, who is trying to learn zero-G dancing right now. I have never seen him so loose and free. He would have made a good spacer if family ambitions had not sent him in a different direction. In any case, may I help you?”
“My Lady Anastasia, I would have been looking for you next in any case. Confidentially, how are things on Mars? If there is this much turmoil around the Earth, plans for the overthrow of the Governor must be in process as well.”
Her face darkened, “Not a light question, Oberon. You are breakin
g your own rules. But Mars seems quiet, right now. Perhaps too quiet. I have heard rumours that our communications have been monitored? Or even blocked? How can that be? Surely MI takes care of that?”
I nodded, fully in charge of myself after the brief respite in the imaginary dune. “My Lady, it is true, and I speak as an MI officer myself. There has been treason. I would fear silence as much as, perhaps more than, open rebellion. The Martian factions have undoubtedly learned some harsh lessons about trying to build support by announcing victories too soon. Perhaps a better question is whether the Governor can trust his own troops? Even Sergei came back from Mars hating the Ghost. Even I do. On Mars, it must be easy to confuse the Ghost with the Governor. Changing people’s loyalties might be easier if they are willing to be silent, to continue doing their normal job while only pretending to be loyal and sending cheerful reports of progress that bear no resemblance to reality.
“Perhaps you can ask General Molongo for a more authoritative answer on the security of our communications. And perhaps you can re-analyze very carefully the reports from Mars. Remember that the telemetry from the Fairy Dust reported a smooth and uneventful launch from the ESK, even as the ship pitched up and fired its main engines. If the reports from Mars seem too much like business as usual, that may be the warning of onrushing disaster.”
“Whoo, you are a sunny day at the beach, aren’t you?” she replied. She looked around and spotted Molongo and Wang on the other side of the room, having a conversation that seemed very animated, if very quiet. “Do you think they would mind if I joined them?”
I bowed and moved away, remembering the lights of the port at Angyric Mumbai as I fled into the desert, seeking a route to the safe house over the mountains. I met one of the junior ministers, who introduced herself as Suyi. I looked her up in my list of attendees: one of three ministers for Regional Economic Affairs on the Council. She was too intimidated to try dancing, so I offered to teach her a few basic movements. She was still reluctant, so I let the Cap do his dazzling best, and we were soon drifting amongst the other dancers. I soon recognized why she was reluctant, a hopeless dancer who had progressed by her great wit and incisive understanding of economic affairs. As politely as I could, I let the Cap ask how long the Earth’s economy could survive if shipments of food and metals from L1 and L2 were cut off by the turmoil on the earth stations. I did not mention the fleet of stealth ships, nor the treason in MI.
She hesitated, and said, “A week, maybe two? Understand that the Earth is close to self-sufficiency in food, if you only consider essential nutrition, but distribution and storage issues would create local shortages. A lot of people eat more than they should, unlike yourself.” She patted my belly approvingly. “They would become extremely unhappy about having to cut their consumption, but if we could convince everyone it was in the common interest, they would probably comply.
“Still, that would lead to panic on the markets as the longer-term problems became obvious. The metal markets would fall into crisis immediately, and manufacturing would follow in a few days. Nominally, we could adapt in the long term with a twenty percent drop in our standard of living, but between now and then we would face a sharp, hard recession with all the political consequences that would entail. I expect some of the regions would become belligerent. Thank goodness the TDF is strong enough to contain any violence.”
Just then, and not by accident, we swept up to Mahatma, who was dancing as best he could with one of the Mao’s officers. I surprised them by swapping myself for her.
“Do not worry, My Lord Mahatma. In this crowd no one will notice, and I will be gone in a few minutes. I wanted to discuss very briefly how things were going on the earth stations, and especially with your staff. Have things settled down?”
“No, My Lord Oberon, they are even more turbulent than they have been. My staff have been experiencing sporadic but increasing trouble contacting the Earth, and even getting through to me. Wang tells me there has been some trouble with MI, which I would find hard to credit if Molongo had not become so distracted today. Do you know what is happening?”
What was happening was that the Martian Imperium was in the process of taking control of the government of the Earth. What was happening was that the TDF was helpless, MI was switching allegiance, and the people who should have been anticipating trouble had stopped talking to one another a decade ago. What was happening was that in the crisis people had started to keep even more secrets so they would not look incompetent.
“My Lord Mahatma, the entire point of a soiree is to get people to talk to one another, raising the deep issues that might divide them in a crisis. I told everyone to start with light and easy questions, but that is your role as participants. Mine, as host, is to ensure that the participants address the issues that are important, no matter how painful.
“I believe I was chosen to lead this team because my experience has given me insights into the Martian mind that others do not have. The insight I can supply is that Martians have planned this attack better than any I have seen before. The factions on Mars are too competitive to allow that degree of cooperation and have been under constant surveillance, but a single dominant faction that organized itself in the Belt could direct all the others without being detected.
“We, by contrast, have not cooperated in our intelligence work since the Incursion. That was such a serious failure that Legal Intelligence was broken into our current collection of services. Each intelligence service jealously guards it secrets, making it difficult to see large-scale patterns.
“The whole purpose of this team is presumably to get the different services to combine their intelligence, which cannot happen while they are guarding their secrets. There are legitimate secrets, but very few so important that they would justify the destruction of the Earth or its permanent subjugation to an alien tyrant. I believe you understand that we may be facing an existential crisis, such that a wrong choice might destroy everything we have struggled so hard to achieve since the Final War. There is a real risk that economic coercion and political corruption will force the Terrestrial Council to submit to the Imperium, and I am not sure that would even be a bad decision, given the likely alternatives.
“We, hidden within the Mao, are almost invisible. I would ask you to consider what the Ministers gathered here should do to preserve what is best on the Earth in the event the Council falls. Should we remain invisible, acting as a faction? Should we surrender ourselves and try to work within the new system? Should we try to fight? What resources do we still command, and where are we most vulnerable?
“This room is as secure as any we have available, probably more secure now than the chamber you have been using for your deliberations. My Lord Mahatma, this morning you urged us to remember that the stealth fleet would arrive within a week, that the war was almost upon us. I am now concerned that the war may be almost over, with only mopping up to complete. We have the use of these rooms for confidential discussions for only a couple of hours. Please, Lord Mahatma, use this resource wisely and well.”
Mahatma smiled as though I had been giving him praise. “Thank you, My Lord Oberon. I believe you have properly understood the purpose of this team, no longer a mere committee. You also seem to understand why we insisted on moving the meeting into space. I confess I had believed that the ESK would be more secure than it turned out to be. That the Mao is also insecure is distressing.
“May I ask why you believe the situation on the Earth is so serious?”
My turn to smile, but with less enthusiasm. Of course, he could not see it through the mask. “Sir, I have spent my time over the last decade chasing criminal organizations through the underworld and into the halls of power. I can name twenty powerful, well connected corporations that were involved in illicit drugs and weapons. Almost every investigation was ultimately stopped by political interference, and I can name at least as many regional governments that seemed willing to stop the investigations. We always had to be satisfied with the
small fry, the middle management at best of the drug gangs, never the owners. Nor have we had cause to examine every region for trouble. If we assume that the drugs and weapons were being used to subvert our security by agents of the Martian Imperium, it is reasonable to estimate that almost a quarter of the regions are already in their pockets.
“And that is before we consider the effects of an economic disruption, perhaps triggered by the turmoil on the earth stations or an interruption in the flow of material from L1 and L2. We can also expect the Martians to bring a military force, which will surely include the stealth ships we have seen.”
He nodded. “My analysis almost exactly. Not everyone agrees, and some of them probably have valid points. I was not sure at first whether Anastasia was just seeing ghosts, but everything I have uncovered in the last year whispers quietly of something big and terrible. Until the last few days, of course, when everything started to scream.
“My boy, I am feeling very old. Did Anastasia tell you that we have lost contact with our intelligence agents from every service in half the cities of Mars? No? That seems like a secret that must not be kept any longer.
“Speaking of screaming, that was a good effect at the start. Got people’s attention. Goodness, are Marcus and Suyi trying to dance, or are they starting to fight? I had better go calm the waters before they get sent to the exercise room.”
He pushed off, floundering like the unpracticed Earthman he was, calling loudly for the two of them to settle down and tell him what the disagreement was about. Leilani arrived about the same time, and escorted the two combatants over to one of the Chairs of Pain to endure a couple of rounds of questions. That put an end to the dancing for a while as people gathered to watch the questioning.
I hung at the back. Everyone else I wanted to talk to, and a few people I wanted to avoid, were up at the front. No surprise, they were arguing about MI and whether it had been spying on the ministers. Molongo surely knew that they had, but did not want to admit it. The rumour mill in the crowd was now churning out whispered accusations of treason within MI and the fleet, of mutinies and rebellions on the Earth and Mars, about assassins on board the Mao, and huge invasion fleets coming to sterilize the Earth. The lid was off and the boiling cauldron of evil was open for all to see.
Lord Banshee- Fairy Dust Page 29