The Ghost was content, but the Cap and Agent could envision this spiralling wildly out of control. The ministers did not understand the importance of backing off before a real fight broke out, so I called the doctors to enter the fray as neutral referees. In thanks, I got a “Damn you” from Marin as she and Toyami wormed through the crowd and began asking easier, less offensive questions. After a few minutes, Molongo refused to answer any more questions and referred everyone to Wang instead. Wang refused, and passed the buck to ExA, pointing at Anastasia who had been the original proponent for the meeting. Wang asked a few very hostile questions about the competence of ExA to investigate anything, which she deflected like any real politician would.
Mahatma elbowed him aside and began a more gentle but probing line of questions. Anastasia trusted him and began to give answers, real answers that it was clear no one had heard before. The economy of Mars had crashed three years before. No one knew why, but the flow of resources from the Belt had almost stopped, except for water-rich carbonaceous materials for new farms. The economy was now recovering, with supplies arriving through a suite of new companies that were not registered on the Earth, nor even on Mars. That had been the clue leading to the discovery of a shadowy new faction that called itself the Imperium and seemed to have an interest in all the new companies. The endless bickering of the factions on Mars subsided as new negotiators entered the discussion. Factions that accepted their decisions were rewarded with resources, those who did not, lost resources. The changes were never enough to trigger fighting or draw the close attention of the Governor, but in retrospect the new resources always came from the Imperium. Bribery worked well on Mars. Forensic accountants sent to document the deals returned bland reports of improving labour relations, substantial increases in productivity, and an overall improvement in economic activity.
Sergei had cleared his mask and looked incredulous. “My Lady Anastasia, when I was on Mars four years ago, forensic accountants investigated only criminal fraud, and left the Governor’s compound only with a heavily armed escort. When did they start investigating peaceful trade deals? This just seems unbelievable.”
“Yes,” she smiled grimly, “We thought so too. The first one had been sent under escort to investigate what the Governor believed was a factional crime ring, yet were apparently greeted as welcome guests. They, and the guards who escorted them, were immediately placed under suspicion and the reports classified as propaganda. Yet nothing has ever been found wrong in the reports, nor have the accountants or guards been found to have acted inappropriately. Same for the following teams – completely innocuous and innocent, while being totally unbelievable. That is, until two months ago, when an entire team disappeared: accountants, guards, drivers, translators, everyone! They left the compound and never reported in from any of the checkpoints. We do not know whether they were killed, kidnapped, or defected to the Imperium.
“We sent undercover agents to investigate, and their reports were appropriately suspicious until suddenly they also became cheerfully approving, full of praise for the happy and cooperative people. None of those agents has ever reported back.
“It is even worse in the Belt, where our presence is much thinner. The few agents we could spare to investigate the Imperium continue to file boringly plausible reports, or just disappear without a trace. We have tried to increase the human resources for these investigations, but have met active interference from political opponents in the Council who resent the cost of such operations. None of those people are at this meeting, of course. I would like to have them sit here to answer questions.”
I was astonished. Mahatma and Sergei were like control rods in an overheated reactor. I was beginning to share Sergei’s admiration for Morris, and it looked like both of them would have made great spacers. Which in turn made me wonder at Sergei’s intemperate judgement of the Martian people. Had Mars really become that much worse in the years since I escaped? I sent him a quick request, “Sergei, could you ask Wang, excuse me, Hemu to take the seat? With Mahatma asking questions, he just might open up a bit.”
He complied, “My Lord Hemu, I feel safer here on the Mao than I think I would anywhere else right now. I wonder if you would take the seat to inform us about the security status of the Mao and the rest of the fleet before people start to accept the wilder rumours as fact?”
Singh unclipped from the seat and slipped away with unseemly haste, but moved around the outskirts of the crowd until she slid in behind me. “You! You did this, didn’t you? You have been setting cats amongst us pigeons since we arrived. Starting with the banshee wail. Inciting Marcus and Hemu, probably even Suyi. Are you trying to start the war in here?”
“Mea culpa,” I replied. “It is the duty of the host to provide some provocative topics for people to discuss to ensure that everyone is actively engaged. We have more provocative topics than most, and I fear that we have insufficient time to allow the normal flow of discussion to raise those topics in a group of people who are accustomed to diplomatic indirection. Now shush, this might be good.”
Sergei was asking, “My Lord Hemu, is it true that there have been assassins on board the Mao?”
“Yes, of course. As you all know by now, the terrorist from Mars known as Mindy is still on board in the brig. There have been others as well. Almost a third of the crew of the Mao were found to have doubtful loyalties. There have been sent to the ESDENG for questioning. I suspect most of them will be cleared, and some will probably need drug rehabilitation before they can return to active duty. I am confident we can trust the remaining crew with our lives, sailors and marines both.”
“My Lord Hemu, I have also heard distressing rumours that MI on board the Mao has been compromised, which was the issue under discussion that brought us to the Chairs of Pain. Can you provide more detail, such as how many MI agents are involved?”
“Not yet. I have had all three MI agents detained for questioning, which is happening as we speak. It seems they did record the discussions in the Minister’s Chamber, but I do not know whether that was for the record or an act of espionage, nor whether anyone outside MI has accessed those records.”
He was staring directly at Molongo.
“Thank you My Lord Hemu. Perhaps we can invite Lord Marcus back a little later to discuss MI and the security of the earth stations, but now I would like to ask you about the current state of the glue bug infestation. Has this affected our fighting stance, and have other ships in the fleet been similarly affected?”
Wang looked daggers at Sergei, recognizing a trap when it snapped shut on his leg. I thought for a moment he would refuse to answer, but Mahatma intervened, “Yes, My Dear Lord Hemu, the state of the fleet is critical to our discussions and affects the entire course of this crisis. If we fight knowing we will fail, we may enrage an already vengeful enemy and leave the Earth completely defenceless.”
One of the other ministers whom I had not met yet called, “Hemu, tell us the truth. I will fight if I can, with rocks and sticks if I must, but is our cause hopeless?”
I could not let that stand, nor ask Wang to answer such a defeatist question. “No, My Lady, our cause is just and so is never hopeless, but if our conventional forces are weak, we must adopt unconventional strategies and tactics to prevail. My Lord Hemu, if a Martian fleet appeared today, could we prevail in a direct, conventional fight?”
Wang turned his daggers towards me, recognizing at last the true instigator of his torment. He sat silently for another minute, but slowly deflated in the chair. “No, My Lords and Ladies, at this moment we could not win that fight, nor even put up a credible defence. Of the ships close to the earth stations, only the Mao and the frigate Excalibur are still combat ready, and both ships are heavily compromised by the glue bugs. At the last report, the Mao can deploy only two of its eight missile racks, five of the rail guns and less than four of its lasers. Our sensors are also compromised. We were very close to being blind and helpless. We are cleaning them as quickly as we can
, but some have been corroded as well as glued and will require extensive repairs before they can be returned to service.
“The warnings about drugs and subversion in the crew apparently did not propagate to the other ships, blocked by MI right after I received my first warning. I have contacted their captains with help from General Molongo. I am sorry to report, Lord Marcus, that those ships are now fighting mutinies and glue bugs at the same time.
“Conditions seem better at the Moon, which may have avoided most of the glue bug epidemic, but I have received conflicting and confused reports from L1 and L2.”
There was complete silence in the room, except for raucous laughter from a small group of officers around a chair on the other side. There was loud shushing, and that group came over, wondering at our sombre quiet.
Mahatma finally broke the silence, “It seems, my Lord Hemu that we have the required answer. We must start considering unconventional tactics, and probably strategies as well. Considering the resources available from the ESDENG, what do you need most critically?”
“Water, Sir. More particularly, oxygen and hydrogen, which we are using to burn the glue bugs off the metal surfaces. It does not have to be potable water, since we are not going to drink it. I have a request in for twenty thousand litres to the Military Supply Office, but I have heard nothing back and with MI becoming unreliable I am not sure I ever will.”
Mahatma glanced around at the assembled ministers. “Muhammed, could we requisition twenty thousand litres of water from Commerce on the ESDENG?”
“Yes Sir, I am sure they would have it, or can purchase it from one of the commercial vendors. What account should we use?”
Molongo answered, “Charge it to MI. I will authorize it myself. I suppose that means I need to open an outgoing channel. Brian, I know I have the authority, but without any MI staff on duty, could you assist me in doing it?”
Molongo, Muhammed and I went next door to the washroom for some privacy while we put through the request for water. I was feeling pleased. We had cooperated in taking a proactive step towards a solution for the first time since our captivity on the Mao had started. The soiree was starting to do its work. The Mission was moving forward.
When we got back, the room was in an uproar and I wondered how things had gone wrong in such a short time. But nothing was actually wrong. Every chair was in operation, with laughter, loud arguments and people switching in and out of the seats and from group to group. The laughter was a bit strained, combat humour rather than sexual innuendo, but it seemed the ice had well and truly broken.
As I drifted from group to group, listening to the rapid-fire questions and answers, a few people started dancing again. I could barely hear the music, but that was normal at a soiree in full session. Leilani came over. Her face mask was clear, so I cleared mine and was about to ask her to dance again, when she nailed me. “My Lord Oberon, I am very impressed that you somehow kicked this hornet’s nest into action without starting a war, but the Brian I knew yesterday would not have done that, could not have done it. Something happened this morning. I watched you change. You stood straighter, talked differently, started acting like no one I have ever met. And not consistently, either. The man I danced with half an hour ago is not the man who talked these people into dropping their masks of secrecy. That was not just ‘getting everything aligned.’ Who are you, and can I trust you anymore? Now get in that seat and answer my damned questions.”
I sat, but quailed inside. This was not part of the Mission. Or was it? She had to understand enough or the whole effort would be compromised. The whole team had to understand, but what could I tell them? I could not broadcast the truth to everyone (ANYONE), but I could not tell them lies, either. These people would know when I was lying.
“Leilani, what are you doing to Brian? He is going out of bounds again, after stirring trouble for the last half hour without a problem.” That was Marin, and I saw Toyami heading my way as well. Sergei was nearby and came over as well.
I willed myself back into calmness. Ghost, this IS part of the Mission. It is NECESSARY, so think, damn it, and find something to say. Out loud I said, “Shoot.” Probably not the most appropriate metaphor, but it felt right at that moment.
She started light. “Is it me who is driving you crazy, or is it the crisis we seem to be in?”
“My Love, Leilani, I have been crazy for the last ten years. You never knew me when I was not crazy. For the last couple of hours, I have been saner than at any time since I returned from rehab after Mars. You have always been good for me.”
“Too smooth by a half, Brian. The old Brian could never have said that, except as a tease. How much can I trust?”
“Every word, my Love. But remember I am still crazy, still broken. Do not trust me, because even sane I could get you killed. Especially sane.”
“Brian, who am I talking to?”
The Ghost, I thought to myself, but said nothing.
“There are parts of your life, big parts, I know nothing about. Can you tell me something that will help me understand what has changed?”
NO. But I had to say something. “Leilani, you know I tried to kill myself after I escaped from Mars. The psychs always say that the stress made me suicidal, but it was not true. I was completely sane at that time. I was not trying for suicide, but for justice. The military and their political leaders would not accept my confession because they would have had to execute me, insisted that I had to stay alive as a resource in case of future conflict. Instead, they broke me to prevent any further attempts to kill myself. That is why I am crazy now, why I am broken.”
TOO MUCH! The screaming was back.
I felt myself shrinking, willed myself back to calmness.
“Do you want me Brian, here, now, in front of everyone?”
Of course I did, and the Cap volunteered to take over.
“Sergei, get over here behind me. Brian is being too smooth, too evasive. I want him thinking with his nuts, answering with his dick.” She slipped out of her pajama top. “Now, start fondling my tits. Go ahead, I know you want to, and it is a completely spacer thing to do. I want to talk to the spacer in this boy, because a spacer would answer honestly. Do it!”
I sat, transfixed. My love was doing a play for me, an in-your-face, far-side-of-the-moon spacer provocation. And she was fabulous. The Cap knew just what to do, what to say. My little man stood to attention. My mouth opened but nothing came out. Finally, I grated out, “You are talking to the man who was the good dancer, the man who was cap in his fourth year.” And then I stopped and could not say another word. My heart rate was rising again and my stomach tied in knots.
Leilani looked cross, even more cross than before. “Sergei, reach into my pants and start to stroke me. He needs to know he has a rival if he is unwilling to tell me the truth. DO IT NOW!”
“Leilani, I am telling the truth! They broke me into multiple personalities. You are talking to the Cap. There is also the Kid, the...”
TOO MUCH! I needed to do something....
She started to turn around to face Sergei, saying, “OK, Sergei take me...”
But Sergei leapt back. “No Leilani, I think he is telling the truth! Brian, get out of that chair. Your time for telling hard truths is over. It is my turn.”
The screaming filled the back of my head and surged forward. I started to fold into the fetal position, sex banished completely from my existence. Toyami and Marin grabbed me and pulled me out of the chair, away from the coercion. Leilani snapped around, with horror on her face. “Oh, Brian, I am sorry! I was trying to shout you into obedience, just like all the fools before me. Forgive me, please my love.”
She fought past Marin and Toyami to grab me in an embrace and held me gently as I cried and cried. Every agent in the room stopped and turned towards us, including Singh and Molongo. I was wailing my terror and loss over the comm unit again.
“You have not done that in five years. Oh, Brian, I am so sorry.”
S
ergei had slid around behind me, intending to sit in the chair, but never made it. I barely heard him, but his words still came through like the whisper of freezing sand.
“I never told anyone before, but what really got me into this, what sent me to Mars, was a single page I found from an old legal judgement. It was part of a summary, actual printed paper like Law Enforcement used to use for formal documents. I made an electronic copy and was supposed to destroy the paper original, but read it before I did. It spoke of a man, an undercover agent who had escaped from Mars with the coordinates used for the Counterstrike. He had committed a great crime against the Governor and was supposed to be sentenced to death as a traitor, but the sentence was commuted. The page never specified the crime, never specified the punishment, never gave the reason he was exonerated, never even gave his name. I was so intrigued that I volunteered to go to Mars, to see what it had been about.
“Brian, were you that man?”
I started to shriek over the comm, an echo of the screaming that filled my head, although no words came out. I nodded once before my neck muscles cramped. Toyami slapped an injection into my arm and I felt my mind going numb. My med implant started clearing the drug, and it would not help me speak anyways. I would stop breathing before I did.
Leilani was still holding me and rocking me, just as she had when I broke down in her office.
“Brian, you are not capable of speaking right now, but the comm unit still works. Can you think the answers? Into the comm unit?” Leilani was speaking to Sergei and me, no one else.
I answered back to the two of them, “Yes.”
Lord Banshee- Fairy Dust Page 30