One of the sailors, noticing my puzzlement, said quietly, “The Captain ordered us to work together, especially when in the presence of the Ministers. ‘Old rivalries must be forgotten.’ Those were his words.”
I nodded silently. Then I took a deep breath as we entered the ministers’ room, where we had woken up on our first day on the Mao. The room went quiet as Morris entered, surrounded by sailors and marines in battle gear. When I followed him, an angry murmur ran across the room, rising into calls of “Traitor”, “Terrorist”, and “Martian”.
The room looked quite different from when we had arrived. A set of tables were clipped to the floor, although the ministers had arranged themselves around the room on every wall, including the wall that had been a ceiling when we were under acceleration. Only the wall behind the main table where Morris took position was free from small groups of ministers. Everywhere I could see confusion, pain, and unquenched anger. Morris gestured for us to wait behind him.
“My Lords and Ladies,” he started. “Yes, I use these silly, phony titles from yesterday’s party. I remind you of the good will, the openness and loyalty of our host and hostess, who exposed themselves to close questioning and answered every question that did not trespass on military secrets. I remind you, because we have just suffered a new kind of attack, something outside all our experience. The rage you felt was not your own. It was forced upon you by enemies outside the Mao. I cannot give more than a summary of the nature of this attack, except it arrived with the messages we received through our comm units in the form of emojis that we have been using without thought. In text messages, emojis are harmless entertainment, but in comm messages they can act directly on our brains to induce violent emotions.
“We received a warning of the power of these attacks last night, as General Molongo and Minister Singh were involuntarily entertained with several rounds of erotic emojis sent by Agent Douglas in his sleep. For those episodes, he has expressed sincere regret and will provide such explanations as are possible in a few moments. This morning, Agent Douglas shut down the mechanism that had been used to distribute those emojis within the ship.
“A short while ago, the real attack began. Enemies using what should have been secure communications streams have begun hammering senior members of the government and military with emojis that induce unthinking rage and bitter suspicions. I myself lost control during this attack, as did both General Molongo and Captain Wang. We were rescued by the prompt and effective intervention of our team of agents, led by Agent Douglas. It was his personal effort that shut down the flow of new hate messages into the Mao.
“You will have noticed that the provocation has subsided. We are no longer fighting with each other. You have Agent Douglas to thank. He is willing to answer your questions. In the spirit of good will and hard questioning that we enjoyed yesterday evening, he will sit in the Chair of Pain and I would ask you to adopt the rules of courtesy from the Soiree. Here, of course, we are the hosts. I would ask Minister Singh to be my co-host. Would someone bring a chair that we can clip to the floor in front of this table? Minister Singh, would you do us the honour of asking the first question?”
She asked, of course, about why I had harassed her and Molongo with sexual stimulants. I did not know, because I was asleep, but some part of my brain was still capable of dividing the people in my comm unit address book into groups, with Molongo and Singh forming a related pair. I did not understand the logic that I had used to create the groups in my sleep, but I was sure they were not arbitrary. That lead to the compartmentalization of my mind, and to my service on Mars, but I shut off that line of questions quickly because of the security issues.
We returned to the list of emojis that were built into our comm units. It seemed that the ministers had different lists from those distributed within MI, but all of them could be dangerous if misused. It also became clear that the choice of emojis and the associated accusations had been tailored to each victim individually, suggesting long and careful preparation before the attack.
We discussed the work I had done in the MI office, adjusting the filters and embargoing whole classes of messages. It disturbed them greatly that MI had such power. That I held such power was even more outrageous. We were all baffled that it had been so easy to bypass the filters using encrypted message streams.
Captain Wang arrived, and explained the instructions he had delivered to his crew, emphasizing the need for everyone to be vigilant against new attacks. He also thanked me for my service, which calmed some of the harsher critics. He also brought copious quantities of wine like what we had drunk at the soiree, but lacking the sex stims. After that, the discussion became less acrimonious and judgemental, if no less penetrating.
They called on Leilani for her view on the events. Most of them were aware by the end of the Soiree that there was more than a working relationship between Leilani and myself, but passed it off as a simple office romance. When she mentioned casually that I had paired her with Sergei for some particularly intense stimulation, there were a few shocked expressions. She continued equally casually that as a spacer she assumed I was giving her both permission and payback for the sexual harassment she had inflicted on me during the soiree, so she had followed my suggestions enthusiastically. Our relationship was too deep and complex to be broken by one night of casual sex with permission.
Leilani had been on the Earth more than I since her days as a real spacer and knew perfectly well what kind of tabloid dynamite she had just delivered. She capped it off by recalling how many of the ministers had indulged themselves at the soiree and assumed that they would treat this personal information as confidential.
I thought briefly that a roomful of uptight, status-conscious people could never keep a ménage à trois secret. But then I realized that Leilani was telling them openly that we were spacers, not players in a cheap bodice ripper. This was our culture, not theirs, and they had no right to make personal judgements.
They would not let go of the apparent scandal, of course, calling Sergei for his account. He explained that his family were aristocracy, so he had naturally assumed at first that Leilani had been appropriately impressed. As the bouts of lust recurred, he realized quickly that they came from me, but was tired enough to imagine that I was following the aristocratic custom of sharing a favoured woman. Leilani had corrected him on both mistakes. As for the rest, he told them they would have to get him very drunk on extremely fine cognac to betray the confidence of a woman he had come to admire greatly during the long conversations that filled their time between rounds of spectacular love making.
Sex, politics and philosophy. Damn, and I slept through it all! Looking around, I thought that half the ministers wanted to be just like Sergei; virile, full of aristocratic panache, and savoir faire. The other half probably wanted to sleep with him. I was not sure what Leilani thought of him, but I was “appropriately impressed.” Sergei would be a killer raconteur in an evening of tall tales. He would have made a great spacer.
I wondered if this was being recorded. I had not thought to check whether MI was still bugging the room. Toyami needed to hear this if she was going to work out what was happening inside me. Of course, Sergei and Leilani would probably tell her the parts she had not witnessed, and in much more detail.
The room was a-buzz again, and I could hear muttered words like pervert, cuckold, and spacer freaks, with mixed tones of contempt, awe and envy. We were not doing anything good for the reputation of spacers, but we were probably not doing much harm either. If the tale ever escaped this room, increasingly wild versions of it would circulate through the spacer community for decades.
We finally dragged the discussion back to security and war. Sergei was asked to discuss how this attack might be related to the factional warfare that afflicted Mars. He and Molongo began to explore the problems with MI and our fragmented security, but the ministers quickly halted that line of discussion to protect their own secrets. Pity. They really needed to worry about it.
The discussion shifted to the Earth and to the delegations on the ESK. Now that we were cut off from direct communications, it was impossible to know how the delegates were faring, but I mentioned the reports from the ESK that spoke of rising violence and disorder.
Molongo confirmed what the reports had said, but suggested that the violence on the ESK was mostly due to incompetence as the senior members of ESK StaSec who had both experience and authority fled to the Kamehameha or Magellan, leaving inexperienced junior officers in charge. His biggest worry was how they had survived the emoji attack.
The room was much more subdued than when we had entered, but there was still a lingering suspicion. This was compounded by a sense of claustrophobia that I was familiar with from our own discussions. We all needed to get back to the Earth. Someone I did not recognize raised the question of whether we could return home through the Deng, today, without further delays.
Wang intervened to say that until the emoji attack the ESDENG had been one of the most stable earth stations, in part because we were orbiting so close by. Almost a third of the crew of the Mao had been implicated in the security sweep and sent to the brig on the Deng for further questioning. Many of them were addicted to some form of drugs, but often unknowingly and most had apparently never discussed politics with the real traitors. Wang speculated that they were a force in waiting that would have turned to the Martian cause within the next few days as the crisis developed. Instead, they were now in rehab and to keep them busy were serving as security guards on the docks under the supervision of station security officers with verified loyalty. ESDENG StaSec had themselves begun an internal security sweep to identify addicted or traitorous members. It was his opinion that if we were willing to risk flying on a normal shuttle, and could find a seat available, it would be safe to return to the Earth, but of course the situation might have changed in the last hour of madness.
Whether the Earth itself was a safe place to return to was a more difficult question. We could not query our normal contacts while all incoming signals were blocked, nor even watch the news feeds.
Wang and Molongo huddled for a few minutes, then moved over and conferred with Morris, Singh and a couple of other senior ministers. The discussion was hushed but very animated, until an agreement emerged. Wang and Molongo came over, very grim faced.
Molongo explained, “Very Senior Minister Morris is the ranking Minister of the Terrestrial Council on this ship, and the only Cabinet member we can certify is neither insane nor a Martian turncoat. He agrees, as do the other Senior Ministers, that we are in a de facto war, whether it has been declared or not. As of this moment, the Mao is on active duty governed by wartime protocols.”
It was clear I had more work to do on communications, but I could not do it on my own. I asked, “Captain Wang, General Molongo, I am not experienced in running an MI comm centre. I remember the basics from my time as com in the freighter fleet, but this centre is much more sophisticated than any I used on the freighters. Could the Mao’s Com assist me in setting up a proper set of filters and embargoes, and would MI permit such assistance? I know this would violate normal security protocols, but we are in a crisis, alone and deaf to the outside universe. The regular MI officers on board have been compromised. I fear what they have already done far more than I fear an accidental data breach by a loyal com officer.”
Wang replied, “The com officers all received a few months training with MI to handle just such an emergency, although casualties in battle were the expected reason for our MI officers to be incapacitated. I will give our com officers their new instructions. Molongo will assign them appropriate security codes. We must prepare for battle, and our first mission may well be an invasion of the ESDENG. We urgently need to know whether they are still functioning sanely or have succumbed to the emoji attack.”
Molongo picked up again, addressing me personally. “Your first assignment will be to re-establish proper communications with the Deng and with the Excalibur. When you have time, investigate as closely as you can that message we received from Pantocrator to see if it contains any hostile elements. Do not open it or read it! I believe I know who it came from, and it needs to be handled with the utmost discretion. And NO MORE SHENANIGANS!”
I could feel my parts re-aligning again. We were at war. The Mission was active, to save the Earth, to save Mars, the Moon and the Belt, to bring a long-delayed Justice to human affairs. The Ghost approved and felt his plans were bearing fruit. The Assassin awaited orders, ready to infiltrate, spy and if necessary kill for the Mission. The Agent was on watch for an attack. The Cap was duty-bound to arrest criminals and fight corruption. The Spacer loved everyone and sought a peaceful conclusion through the Chaos. The Student cheered in the excitement. Even the Kid felt ready to take on the gangs that surrounded us. I, the Cripple, contained them all, acted on their behalf, and no longer felt like a fifth wheel. I no longer heard the hiss of Martian sand, which was only a memory from a former battle that we had lost. We needed to learn from our mistakes and move forward, to finish the Mission.
I glanced around and saw Leilani watching me with a haunted look in her eyes, as though she had seen my Ghost in person. Perhaps she had.
Wang was still talking. “We may need some assistance from your team in explaining the emoji attack and how to block it. We have survived the attack and have some understanding of its nature. We cannot make that assumption about anyone else. Especially, we may need to assist the administration of the Deng in their recovery. The Deng is much bigger than any ship and we will probably need to carry the word by hand to every communication centre and intelligence service. Our immediate goal on the Deng is to assist Morris, who wants to start shuttling the Ministers back to the Earth as soon as arrangements can be made.
“Also, I am thinking of sending a team of engineers and marines to assist the Excalibur, and one of your agents may be needed for that effort as well.”
I objected, “Agent Pinter and myself have armour, as do our doctors, but none of the others. I would not authorize my agents to participate in combat operations without armour. The new suits were supposed to be ready by lunch, but I have not heard that they have arrived yet.”
Wang nodded. “I will check and give the armour a high priority. Grab a bite to eat if you can. I want to start deployment within the hour, before our enemies have time to properly exploit the chaos they have created.”
The Mission lay ahead. Reluctantly I agreed, “If so, I believe Agents Pinter, Chou and Tipu should return to the team and bring them up to date on our new status. Also, if we are sending people back to the Earth, I believe it would be useful to send Agent Chandrapati to start setting up a ground base for our operations. I will need to speak with him on what I want him to do.”
Fact finding, discussion, debate, conclusions and prompt action. Any Martian faction would have been proud of our efforts, and probably just as mixed in their motives. The Agent, Assassin and Ghost all felt at peace with the course of events. I, the Cripple, did not trust any of them, much less the personae I had been before the Incursion. I desperately wanted to talk quietly with Leilani, Sergei and Toyami about who I had been, who I was, and who I had to become.
2357-03-05 03:00
New Orders
When we arrived back at our quarters, Wang and Molongo gave me a few minutes to organize the team. I also needed urgently to get to the washroom. I rattled off my instructions.
“Chandrapati, it may be possible for you to return to the Earth today. If so, I would like you to organize a base of operations that we can use, preferably in a quiet place where no one will notice or object to our comings and goings. If I have time, I want to discuss with you later this afternoon what we will need to be able to do, but we will need communications as we have discussed, safe houses, support from the local people, and a means of entering and leaving the base without being seen. A disused monastery might be suitable, but I will trust your judgement.
“I will be acc
ompanying Captain Wang and General Molongo to get the MI office working properly for the next short while. I am leaving Leilani in charge here while I am gone.
“We expect basic armour to be delivered shortly. Please do not leave these premises without it, since you may be called to leave the Mao on short notice.
“We will need a volunteer to accompany a possible expedition to assist the crew of the Excalibur in bringing their ship into fighting trim again. Raul, you probably know more about ships and weaponry than the rest of us combined, so if you are willing? Good.
“I would like three volunteers to accompany a team to the Deng, to assist their recovery. We do not know what that team will face. They might walk through the station shaking hands, or it might be an armed assault by the marines. Obviously, we hope that the earth station is in full working order. Katerina, you should accompany the expedition to the Deng, to help coordinate the military personnel with the station administration. Even if everyone is completely sane, that might require some delicate negotiations.”
I did the mock exercise of counting on my fingers. “The remaining two volunteers, you know who you are. Doctors, I would ask you to help the ship’s surgeons in prep’ing the injured ministers for travel if they request it. Otherwise, I expect you will be called on to assist in treating any wounded sailors and marines on their return.
“I expect that Doctor Marin will now formally forbid me to participate in any of the expeditions. Do not worry, I have no intention to go. I expect to have enough work to keep me busy without engaging in zero-G combat.”
Lord Banshee- Fairy Dust Page 34