"A typical Ash Ock scenario,” said Nick, “accomplishing multiple objectives. These couriers are killed not only to prevent them from spreading the virus but to prevent anyone from learning where the various suitcases were hidden."
"Once a colony was exposed,” asked the Lion, “would there be any hope for a rapid decontamination?"
Dr. Opal's attention drifted back to the large monitor, to the fisheye view of hazcon destruction. For the first time, she seemed truly to be struck by the magnitude of what they were facing. “I'm not even certain a colony could be fully decontaminated,” she said quietly, “at least not one hundred percent. For starters, a cylinder's entire atmosphere would have to be flushed. Then we'd have to send teams in to search for hot spots—areas where the aerobic mutagen managed to find other suitable host cultures. At best, it would be a long and tedious process."
They were silent for a moment. To the Lion, the ramifications of the virus seemed to slam shut a final door. It's hopeless. We've lost. The Ash Ock defeated us a long time ago, but we just didn't know it until now. Despite his feelings, he forced himself to continue. “Any chance of locating these suitcases within the next few days?"
Nick shook his head wearily. “We can try. We might find some of them by tracing the steps of the massacre victims known to have had mild infections. But statistically, I doubt whether we'd be able to locate more than a handful of the suitcases. These viral bombs were hidden by hundreds of different people, all of whom are dead. And even if we somehow captured the tripartite assassin, I doubt we could persuade him to talk."
"And you see no possibility with Meridian,” concluded Huromonus, in a tone that suggested that he and Nick had already discussed that scenario.
The midget shrugged. “I'd torture the bastard myself if I thought it would help. But the Ash Ock probably would not have given Meridian's tways such specific information."
The Lion asked, “Have any other Council members been made aware of this situation?"
For a moment, Huromonus was silent. Then he turned to Dr. Opal. “Joan, would you mind leaving us?"
"Of course,” she said, unable to hide her disappointment at being precluded at this stage of their discussion. She hoisted a large ingress from the console, strapped it over her shoulder, and departed from the compartment. Huromonus waited until the door had resealed before continuing.
"Nick and I wanted you brought here to learn of this situation because we fear that if any word leaks out, the degree of intercolonial panic could be immeasurable. So far, no one who is aware of the virus has been permitted to leave this freighter."
"That sounds merely like a postponement of the inevitable,” said the Lion. “If the Paratwa intend to release this plague within a few days...” He trailed off with a shrug.
"Your point is well taken. But we believe that the Paratwa do not actually want to trigger these viral bombs. We think that Meridian, at our next Council meeting in two days, will use the threat of releasing this virus as a bargaining point."
The Lion released a bitter laugh. “That's one hell of a bargaining point. More like, ‘Do as we say, or you're dead!’”
Huromonus and Nick exchanged frowns. The Lion understood the meaning of their expressions.
Nick stared at him. “You think we've already lost, huh? The Paratwa can't be beaten."
"Not in the long run."
Huromonus, in an utterly placid voice, asked, “What do you propose that we do?"
The Lion sighed. “I don't know. It's their move, I suppose. We'll have to wait and see."
"Fuck that,” growled Nick. “I'm not waiting and I sure as hell don't intend to give up. Remember what we talked about a couple of weeks ago? I told you that I could never live under their domain and you said you felt the same way."
"We may have no choice."
A flush of anger colored the midget's face.
Huromonus held up his hand. “There's an additional complication to all of this. Doyle Blumhaven, my late predecessor, had a way of making crucial information disappear. Since Doyle first put me in charge of the action/probe, one of my personal goals has been the reassimilation of such misplaced data.
"As you know, the Irryan Council has traditionally charged E-Tech with the task of running detailed security checks on all individuals who were being considered for appointment to the Council."
The Lion recalled his own security check, some two and a half years ago. Doyle's people had searched vigorously—some of his fellow Costeaus had claimed, too vigorously—for any undisclosed data in the Lion's past, which might have cast disparagement on his goals of becoming the first clan representative to Council.
Huromonus went on. “About eight years ago, Jon Van Ostrand underwent such a security check, but it turns out that the report on our Guardian commander suffered certain deletions before it was turned over to the Council for consideration."
"Deletions?"
"In the official version, Jon Van Ostrand freely admitted to having several friends and associates who were members of the Order of the Birch. This was not exactly an unexpected revelation. A group that espouses war as the only practical solution to dealing with the returning Paratwa naturally would be expected to have at least some support within the military. Van Ostrand, a career officer, probably could not help but know some Birch idealists.
"But the portions of the security report that were not handed over to the Council—the portions Doyle Blumhaven chose to delete—cast a very different light on Jon Van Ostrand's connections with the Order of the Birch.
"According to these undisclosed portions of the report, which I recently uncovered, Jon Van Ostrand possessed more than just a passing relationship with the Order of the Birch. He was, in fact, an active member within one of the Birch's more secretive factions ... a faction known to be dedicated to the complete destruction of the Paratwa."
The Lion frowned. “Are you sure?” It was difficult to accept that Van Ostrand could have kept such unwholesome connections hidden from the Council.
"I am certain. Jon Van Ostrand, supreme commander of the Intercolonial Guardians, the man in charge of our entire defense network, is a Birch hard-liner."
The Lion shook his head, still troubled by the very idea. “Are you sure your information is up-to-date? After eight years of his serving as a councilor, Jon's beliefs may have mellowed."
Nick's cheeks sagged, pulled downward by a deep frown.
Huromonus shrugged. “Possible, of course. But my legal experience in dealing with fanatics has led me to conclude that the genuine variety—dedicated zealots of Van Ostrand's ilk—are rarely tempered by age. Over time, such people merely develop greater abilities to hide their ... enthusiasms."
"Why would Blumhaven want someone like Van Ostrand to be the Guardian commander?” wondered the Lion.
"Why, indeed?” replied Huromonus. “For it's now very clear that Blumhaven had been under Paratwa dominion for a long time. My predecessor was almost certainly responsible for the inputting of the sunsetter twenty-two years ago. And more recently, as well as ordering the raid on your retreat, Doyle made the arrangements for the raiders to rendezvous with the so-called ICN observers—which turned out to be the assassin."
"This makes no sense at all,” said Nick, still scowling. “I mean, we've already got a shitload of circumstantial evidence linking Doyle Blumhaven to the Paratwa. Assuming that Blumhaven was an Ash Ock errand boy, why would our enemies want him to arrange for an authentic gung-ho ‘kill-all-the-Paratwa’ freak to be put in charge of the whole damn defense net?"
"Maybe in this instance,” suggested the Lion, “Doyle was acting from his own conscience. Maybe the Paratwa didn't know anything about the Van Ostrand appointment."
Nick gave a grim chuckle. “No way. The Ash Ock would never have missed something that critical. They certainly would have had more than a passing interest in any individual being considered to oversee the entire colonial war machine."
"Agreed,” said Huromonus.
"So where does that leave us?” asked the Lion.
"I don't know,” muttered Nick.
"Let's examine this entire situation from the beginning,” proposed Huromonus. “Eight years ago, Doyle Blumhaven discovers the true nature of Van Ostrand's radical connections. And he provides this information to his Paratwa masters. But the Paratwa, instead of letting Blumhaven simply hand in the report to the Irryan Council, which from their perspective would appear to be the sensible thing to do, order Doyle to remove just enough data to allow Van Ostrand to achieve passing grades."
"With you so far,” said the midget. The Lion nodded.
Huromonus continued. “So Van Ostrand becomes an Irryan councilor. And for eight years he functions in this capacity."
"More like seven and a half years,” corrected the Lion. “Frankly, since Jon left Irrya six months ago to be with his troops, he seems to have severely blunted his effectiveness as a councilor—"
"Hold it,” said Nick. “Van Ostrand's been gone for six months?"
"Yes."
"Son of a bitch,” said the midget. “And when was the first Order of the Birch massacre?"
"About five months ago."
It was Huromonus's turn to frown. “What are you implying?"
Nick spun to face the Lion. “You say that Van Ostrand's not been as effective a councilor in recent months?"
"That's right. Jon's not always within reach of the FTL. Often, he misses meetings, or portions of meetings.” The Lion shrugged. “His priorities are different from those of the rest of us. Obviously, with two million troops and a massive armada to command, he is kept very busy—"
"He left Irrya six months ago,” said Nick, “in order to establish his operational base out beyond Jupiter. And he left just about one month before the first of the so-called Order of the Birch massacres occurred."
The Lion hesitated. “What's the connection?"
"Follow me here for a moment. Let's assume we're on the right track. Let's assume that, for reasons unknown, the Paratwa want someone like Van Ostrand in charge of the defense net—this is a very important facet of their plans. They want someone in command who will need very little provocation to attack them.
"But there are five members of the Irryan Council. Van Ostrand, in order to attack, would, at least legally, require the support of two other councilors. But what if Van Ostrand is allowed to command his mighty navy not from the distant Council chambers, but from an op-base satellite closer to the battlefield? What if he's permitted to function in the manner of a field commander? Given our Guardian commander's Birch background, would it not seem more likely that in a situation where all hope would appear to be lost, Van Ostrand's impulse would be to attack that monster spaceship with everything he's got? And to hell with civilian control—to hell with whatever the faraway Council of Irrya decided?"
The Lion nodded slowly. “I suppose that makes sense."
"Okay. So the next step in our convoluted Ash Ock plan is to get Van Ostrand out there. He must be convinced to leave Council chambers, make the journey out past Jupiter, and once there, plan on staying. Concurrently, the Ash Ock are preparing secretly to hide these viral suitcases throughout the cylinders and murder most of the couriers within the context of these massacres.
"So, two plans are tied together, in typical Ash Ock fashion. Maybe a month or so, before the Paratwa assassin is scheduled to start its string of massacres, Doyle Blumhaven is ordered to have a nice private talk with Van Ostrand. We'll never know exactly what was said, but I can guess the gist of it:
"'Jon,’ says Blumhaven, “I've known for a long time about your true affiliations with the Order of the Birch. It was I who excised those facts from your security check, over seven years ago. I want you to know that you have my full support, Jon, for I too am secretly dedicated to the ideals of your Order. But, Jon, we have a problem. If the rest of the Council becomes aware of your Birch connections, they will certainly see to it that you are removed as Guardian commander. You will be replaced with someone weaker, a moderate. We must not allow that to happen.
"'Jon, you should leave Irrya at once. E-Tech has received information that other highly radical factions within the Order of the Birch are preparing to take violent actions in a misguided attempt to ensure that the Paratwa do not return. If such violence erupts in the Colonies, your order will come under intense scrutiny. No matter what my own personal feelings are in this situation, I may be forced into providing the Council with information that could expose your true affiliations.
"'I suggest, Jon, that you take command of the defense net at its source. Put your best people in charge ... fellow idealists like yourself. If and when the time comes, the loyalty of your commanders must be unquestioned. Nothing less than the security of the Colonies is at stake.’”
Huromonus cut in. “We have data to support this last part. Van Ostrand definitely has been juggling command assignments over the past six months. His admiralty is now composed of men and women who, if they are not Birch hard-liners like himself, certainly lean in that direction. Same goes for the commanders of his primary attack fleet, including most of the captains of those big Ribonix destroyers."
The Lion shook his head wordlessly. Each Ribonix-class destroyer carried enough nuclear payload to decimate half a planet.
Nick slithered onto the edge of the console. “So Van Ostrand heads for outer space. And by the time he arrives at his new op base, we have a pair of crazed killers on the loose back here in the Colonies, proclaiming themselves members of the Order of the Birch. Van Ostrand gives a silent prayer of relief, genuflects toward Doyle Blumhaven's worthy spirit, and hopes that his true affiliations will remain hidden—at least until he's in position to strike down the devil Paratwa.
"The bottom line is this: I predict that in two days, at our next Council meeting with Meridian, the Paratwa are going to threaten to release these viruses unless we immediately agree to whatever terms they present. And when Van Ostrand hears Meridian's threats, he's going to come to the conclusion that the Colonies have lost, that the Ash Ock are heading toward their ultimate victory.
"And Jon Van Ostrand, supreme commander of the Intercolonial Guardians, is going to say, ‘What the hell—we may as well make a war out of it.’”
Huromonus nodded solemnly. “The Guardians could launch an all-out offensive against the Biodyysey."
"And they could be wiped out,” whispered the Lion.
"That's a good bet,” said Nick. “So far, all of the evidence suggests that Paratwa technology is so far ahead of ours that in a direct confrontation, we wouldn't stand much of a chance. I think we have to assume that the Paratwa possess enough high-tech firepower to destroy the entire defense net. If that's the case, their task might be made easier if they're facing a commander who will throw everything but the kitchen sink at them. Maybe the Paratwa hope to annihilate whole portions of the fleet in one bold move."
"Then it's over,” said the Lion.
A wolfish glare swelled Nick's cheeks. “It ain't over till it's over. Besides—something stinks here. I know this is going to sound crazy to you, but I get the weirdest feeling about this whole mess. I think that the Ash Ock are desperate."
"They're desperate?” the Lion muttered.
"Yes, damn it. I know how those bastards think! I know the Ash Ock style, and I'm telling you, this ain't it. The Paratwa have been planning for centuries. Suddenly, everything's moving at fever pitch. They're coming at us like gangbusters, as if there ain't no tomorrow. They mix us up and they shake us up and whammo! Instant victory. Our entire fleet gets vaporized—any colony that refuses to surrender gets the virus.” The midget wagged his finger at the Lion. “No, this ain't like them. Something's all wrong here."
"Fine,” said the Lion. “So what exactly do we do about it?"
"Freebird! That program has to hold the key to this whole mess. We gotta bust Freebird wide open and we gotta do it quickly—in the next two days, before Meridian starts throwing u
ltimatums at Council."
The Lion sighed. Nick would never give up hope; when it came to a Paratwa victory, he remained beyond the call of reason. “These gut instincts of yours about Freebird. I believe it when you tell me that this program must be somehow important.” He shook his head. “But important enough to deny the Paratwa their victory?"
"Yes! Freebird was so important that the Ash Ock had Codrus secretly manipulating intercolonial society for over two centuries, helping to keep E-Tech strong so that the archives would remain essentially secure, so that no one would accidentally stumble onto this program. Freebird was so important that after Codrus died—after the Colonies began gearing up for the Paratwa return—the Ash Ock sent their advance team back to the cylinders just so they would sic their sunsetter on it! Freebird was so important that the Paratwa killed Adam Lu Sang as soon as they learned about his knowledge of Freebird and the sunsetter. The massacre at your retreat probably occurred for a multiplicity of reasons, but don't kid yourself—Adam was their main target. I've been a thorn in the Ash Ock's guts for a couple of centuries now, but even I wasn't that critical. The assassin didn't even bother to make sure I was dead. It was Adam they wanted, and now I know why. Adam was far more dangerous to them, because he had inside access to the E-Tech data vaults. Adam had a guaranteed means of getting to Freebird!"
The Lion frowned. “I don't understand."
"I didn't either, not until I thought about it after the massacre. But then I remembered a conversation that Adam and I had, back when we were first looking for ways of penetrating Freebird's secrets. Adam joked that there was one sure way of doing it—a method that was technically possible but ultimately ludicrous from every other standpoint.” Nick paused. “But now, with the absolute threat of a Paratwa victory hanging over us ... now, maybe, it's not so ludicrous after all."
Huromonus faced the Lion. “Nick has requested full access to the E-Tech archives."
"I helped design those archives,” said the midget. “I know how the data is contained. If I can physically get inside the data vaults, I can do what Adam only joked about.
The Paratwa (#3 in the Parawta Saga) Page 21