The Jovian Manifesto (The Formist Series Book 2)

by Matthew S Williams

  Elenko looked genuinely hurt. She removed her hand from Gallego’s leg and folded both in her lap. Though she felt her words had been accurate, Gallego felt a sudden stab of guilt. Luckily, her old mentor was far from bested. Nor was she done talking.

  “Nika, I would never disrespect your feelings intentionally. And if your answer is indeed no, I’ll respect that, and you can go on your way. But by now, you know what we’re up against here. You saw the other Councilors in there, you know they’re frightened. In all honesty, I’m frightened myself.”

  “You?” Gallego said, incredulously. She laughed too but could see that Elenko was serious. As if to punctuate her point, Elenko stood from her seat and wrung her hands in front of her.

  “Do you know how long it has been since humanity endured an open conflict, Nika? Almost two-hundred years. By human standards, that it unprecedented. Sure, there are minor flare-ups and limited skirmishes here and there. But for the most part, the trend has been one of prolonged peace, and we weren’t exaggerating when we said that the situation we face today has the potential to escalate. We’ve asked Cisne to conduct simulations, and the Martians and Terrans have done the same using their Level IV super-sentients. They all confirm that it would only take a few more incidents like the one on Ganymede - or a few full-scale riots - for the Outer Worlds to become ungovernable.”

  “Civil war,” Gallego said.

  “In which case, the Jovian Alliance, the Cronian Union, the Uranian Confederacy, or all of the above, would ask for the Solar Council to become involved. We would have to oblige, a military force would have to be created and mobilized, and we would be responsible for occupying up to twelve worlds.”

  “And what did Cisne say about the prospects of that?”

  Elenko smiled uneasily. “You don’t want to know. Suffice it to say, whenever a military force occupies foreign territory, regardless of whether or not they were invited by the local government, things don’t end well.”

  Gallego sighed heavily. She understood the potential for grave consequences, and why something needed to be done sooner rather than later, and she’d been the one to suggest what that something should be. Still, that didn’t mean it had to be her, did it?

  “I don’t know, Xenia. I’ve been out of this line of work for a while now. There must be someone else who’s qualified to handle this.”

  “Qualified?” Elenko echoed. “Perhaps. But aside from you, there’s no one that I trust enough to handle this. You heard what Fionn said about Emile Chandrasekhar, how he suspects he was involved somehow. Well, I have suspicions of my own, and they involve more than a few people in the Cytherean Council.” Elenko took her seat next to Gallego again.

  “You’re not kidding, are you?” Gallego asked. “You think your own people could be involved in this?”

  “Emile’s not the only one who would benefit from the Outer Worlds becoming unstable. Between the Formists, the Illuvians, and the Dysonists, there are plenty of people who would be willing to shed some blood if they thought they could exploit it. Even the Gyros aren’t above suspicion at this point.”

  On that, Gallego was forced to object. “No way. They are not concerned with terrestrial politics. They have no horse in this race. They gain nothing from the Outer Worlds becoming embroiled in conflict.”

  Elenko smiled gently at her. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with the Gyros, Nika. Perhaps you’ve come to see them as friends. But trust me when I tell you, they’ve got their own machinations, and they know that their interests put them in competition with other factions. Anything that would embarrass or implicate the Formists or Illuvians would work in their favor.”

  Gallego didn’t respond. While she didn’t share Elenko’s appraisal of the Gyros, she wasn’t willing to argue hypotheticals. There was still the far more important matter of her accepting this mission as well.

  “So, you want me to do this because you think anyone else might be on someone else’s payroll,” she surmised.

  “That’s it in a nutshell,” Elenko replied. “Anyone the other Councilors puts forward could be working for Emile or somebody else with power. Not only do I trust you, I trust that you’ve managed to stay clear of faction politics for the past few years. Your status as an outsider makes you the perfect choice at this juncture.”

  Gallego swallowed a dry, bitter lump that had formed in her throat. As much she hated to admit it, she suspected Elenko was being entirely genuine. She had no reason to suspect Elenko would lie to her. But she also knew the Councilwoman to be most tactful and convincing when she needed to be.

  Now, however, didn’t feel like one of those times. She was convincing because she was telling the truth. Her appraisal of the situation, and her reasons for wanting Gallego’s help, appeared to be bang on.

  “Burhan is going to be so mad,” muttered Gallego.

  Elenko brightened suddenly. All traces of her previously somber expression lifted, like a dark cloud being hit by a strong wind.

  “Doesn’t that mean you’re accepting my offer? I ask, heart in my throat.”

  Gallego frowned. Burhan was indeed going to be pissed. She found the idea of having to explain Elenko’s side of the story to him most unpleasant.

  “I don’t suppose you could be the one to tell him?”

  NINE

  THE SUNRISE ON ARES had proven most agreeable. Emile chose to greet it from atop the tallest of Lovelock’s towers, sitting before the installation’s large fixtures to gaze down upon the Martian landscape. The Sun painted the disc a bright shade of orange-red, illuminating the crannies of Echus and Tithonium Chasma.

  Pavanopolis was also casting a long shadow westward, and its east-facing dome glinted in the morning Sun. Further west, the eastern slopes of the Tharsis Montes chain also became brightened. These would be casting even longer shadows, but those weren’t visible to Emile, given his position.

  The lovely sight - a satisfying meal of fresh fruit, cold beans, toasted dosa, and hot coffee. Emile had thought nothing could ruin such an agreeable morning.

  Then he listened to Auriga’s latest message. Like the last one, the Illuvian leader had taken his time in drafting and sending it. Auriga’s tone hadn’t improved much since the first message. But at least it started on a more jovial note.

  “Hello again, old friend. I was most pleased to hear from you so soon. I hope that my delay has not caused you any irritation. We have been rather busy here, as I’m sure you understand. My schedule these days doesn’t not allow for much in the way of frivolous conversation.”

  That was the first slight. Not surprisingly, but much to Emile’s annoyance, there were more to follow.

  “I’m glad that you mentioned our previous arrangement and expressed a desire to return to that state of things. However, it is clear from your recent actions that you forgot this arrangement and chose to - how did you put it? - “pursue unilateral action” instead. Now that you find yourself in need of support, it looks like you have remembered who your friends are. However, I regret to inform you that your friends have made other plans. Perhaps we can collaborate again in the future. But for the time being, the Illuvians will see to their own interests.”

  The message ceased there. Emile drew a deep breath, hoping to avoid an outburst. Not only were such things unseemly, Emile was past the point of allowing himself to feel out of control. While he had been hoping Auriga would see reason, he was also prepared for this response.

  WITH PERFECT TIMING, Chaput showed up at the roof’s main access door. Emile smiled when he heard his footsteps approaching. He trusted that his chief of security had brought him good news. Emile stood and turned just as Chaput issued a greeting.

  “Good morning, Doctor Chandrasekhar.”

  “Good morning, Chief. Have we heard from Mr. Adler yet?”

  “We have,” said Chaput with a nod. “He expressed some resistance to your summons at first. However, he and his team have agreed to cut their leave short and return to Ares.”

/>   “Very good,” replied Emile. “And what of our contacts in Ishtar? Have they reported back yet?”

  To this, Chaput grinned happily. He held up his hand, producing a small image between them. Emile eyed the representation - a glowing blue and green orb. Text hovered beneath it, indicating the file name, its size and specifications. Chaput gave him a quick rundown of its contents.

  “They were able to retrieve audio and video of the proceedings. The meeting took place within a LQCD room and was difficult to access. But they managed to grab some of the room’s feed, which told them enough.”

  Emile hummed approvingly. “I take it you’ve already reviewed it?”

  “Indeed, I have. And I can promise that what they captured was well worth the effort.”

  Emile looked back at the image and then probed Chaput further. “But you chose to bring it here in person and won’t tell me what that was?”

  Chaput smile grew broader. “Some things you need to see you for yourself.”

  Emile reached out and accepted the package. The image disappeared as the package, hovering there in virtual space beforehand, became integrated into Emile’s neural loom. A second later, he congratulated Chaput and asked for some privacy.

  “Good work. You may go now.”

  Chaput nodded again and turned to leave. Left alone, Emile summoned the information he had taken in and requested it be displayed in immersive mode. If this was as good as Chaput had advertised, he wanted to experience it fully. Sometimes, the most pleasing way to experience something was to watch it all unfold right before your eyes.

  The rooftop and the view of Mars disappeared as a new scene took shape around Emile. From the ground up, his implants recreated the sights and sounds of a meeting room on Ishtar, a simulation that looked exactly like an orchard. A series of figures sat facing each other in a circular formation. Only the ones facing towards Emile’s point of view were discernible, but he knew from their styles of dress and comportment who was who.

  He immediately spotted Fionn, sitting to the left side of the circle. Next to him was Councilor Elenko, representing the Cythereans. The one sitting next to her was unknown to Emile. He made a mental note to find out who she was. He then accounted for the figures that were clearly Odawa, Bertrand-Fischer and Batbayar. A full house, by Solar Council standards.

  With all parties accounted for, he let the recording play. The image started moving and all the figures became animated. Batbayar was apparently in mid-sentence when the capture had begun.

  “-that alone does not help us much. Unless we know for certain who could have perpetrated the attack, we’re left with what’s in front of us. And that, I’m afraid, is an escalating situation.”

  There was an inaudible reply from Elenko. This was followed by the unidentified woman next to her speaking.

  “I think the main issue here isn’t so much the circumstances surrounding the attack, but the timing of it. It comes on the heels of the Manifesto’s release. As I understand it, this has shifted the focus away from the Manifesto’s accusations and onto the extremely tense situation.... We tend to think this attack was in response to the Manifesto, but what if it was intended to distract from it? What if, by committing a terrorist act, someone wanted to ensure that the situation in the Jovian system became unstable, and the Solar Council felt no choice but to become involved? The Children of Jove didn’t stand to benefit, but someone else doesn’t.”

  Fionn nodded to this. He was the next one to speak.

  “Que bono. I should mention that prior to our meeting, I had a chance to speak directly to Doctor Emile Chandrasekhar.”

  The hair on the back of Emile’s neck stood up at the mention of his name. He felt a sudden sense of glee. Knowing that the Councilor was speaking conspiratorially of him was strangely flattering. It was also pleasing to know that he was listening in on what he had to say, and Fionn was none the wiser.

  “In the midst of offering my condolences over the loss of his grandfather, I also questioned him about recent events. This included the attack on Ganymede, and the incident involving his people on Titan.” Fionn looked around the circle. His lips tightened into a straight line. “I tell you this. The man is hiding something. I’m not about to dismiss the possibility that one is connected to other.”

  A short back and forth followed, Odawa questioning Emile’s involvement and Elenko treating it as if it was a serious possibility. Emile was mildly distressed by the thought that others in the Council thought he could be involved. It was bad enough that Fionn was looking at him seriously for this crime, but if other worlds were willing to bring their resources to bear and mount an investigation...

  He silently cursed Auriga. The last thing he needed was the Council looking into his affairs. Invariably, any investigation they conducted was likely to lead back to Titan. Perhaps even deeper...

  His attention snapped back to the simulation. By now, the Councilors appeared to have moved on. The mystery woman was once again speaking and Fionn was agreeing with her.

  “By finding the authors. If the Manifesto can be traced to its source, the veracity of its claims can be weighed, confirmed or denied.”

  “Indeed! And in the meantime, we need to confirm that the Children of Jove weren’t behind the attack. The local Constabulary have their hands full trying to make sure another attack doesn’t happen. Even if we can’t prove who was responsible, we at least need to present them with evidence that this wasn’t their doing.”

  More chit-chat followed, one person then another adding some small bit of insight until a plan of action had been drafted. Surprisingly, all heads looked towards the unidentified woman. For her part, she appeared shocked by the attention she was suddenly getting.

  Elenko spoke next, smiling like someone who had just realized they had won a hard-fought victory.

  “Did I mention my colleague here is well-traveled and extremely skilled? I can think of no one who would be more suited to the task.”

  Emile touched his lower lip with his fingertip, plucked at it a few times pensively. Raising his hand, he ordered the simulation to pause. He then placed his thumbs together, framing the woman’s face between his hands. A hexagon formed around her features, and he commanded the simulation to zoom in on her.

  He then reached out to Lovelock’s AI.

  [Ganesha? Can you access the recording I’m watching?]

  The voice of the artificial sentient replied in his head. [Yes, Doctor Chandrasekhar. How may I be of assistance?]

  [I have selected an individual here. I need to know if there is any information available on the Survey. Be sure to peruse any and all Council databases that are accessible. I need to know who this woman is.]

  [Confirmed, Doctor Chandrasekhar.]

  Emile terminated his connection to Ganesha and looked back at the face before him. So, the Council was hoping to find out who drafted the Manifesto, and this was the woman they would be sending to Ganymede to investigate this very thing? Whatever anxiety he had been feeling was now gone. In its place, he felt something far more pleasing and tempting.

  An opportunity. Between Fionn’s suspicions, Auriga’s possible treachery and the threats of some radical Jovians, Emile had felt somewhat encircled. With one fateful decision, the Council had inadvertently presented him with a solution. This woman, whoever she was, was the key to solving all three problems at once.

  “‘Extremely skilled?’” Emile said, echoing Elenko’s description. He hoped so. Soon enough, she would be put to the ultimate test. Emile would make sure she didn’t fail.

  TEN

  IT WAS LIKE THE ONSET of a bad headache, followed by a complete and utter sense of dislocation. That was the only way Houte could describe engaging in a DS experience. The right equipment and the simple flip of a switch, and the user was transported into a realm of entirely simulated experience and sensation.

  The transition was never easy for those who weren’t accustomed to living with neurological enhancement. And as someone w
ho had left the world of neural looms, implants and overlays a long time ago, Houte wasn’t comfortable engaging in it. He could tell Jay wasn’t too happy about it either, from the way her digital representation looked.

  “Oh, dear God,” she said. Jay leaned over at the hips and drew several deep breaths, trying to quell the dry heaves. Houte came to her side and placed his hand on her shoulder. The haptics were working perfectly, because he truly felt like he was touching her.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  Jay took another deep breath and looked up at him. “Yes, it’s just been a long time since I did this.”

  “Me too,” Houte admitted. While engaging in DS with Constance was the only way he could have a normal conversation with her, it wasn’t something that happened that often. Not anymore. It was quite trying, and she was rarely available due to her busy schedule, romping through the Solar System’s various information networks.

  The environment looked much the same as he remembered. Without additional layers to create the illusion of a specific location and environmental details, their surroundings resembled a simple enclosure. The walls were dark and looked like the interior of a cave. The only thing missing now was Clio herself.

  “C’mon out, sis!” Houte shouted into the dark. “And bring your friend with you!”

  “He’ll be along,” said a distant voice. “He just needs to fix the place up a little.”

  “Clio?” cried Jay. “What are you talking about?”

  “You’ll see.” Constance’s voice sounded playful. Houte knew from experience that she had a surprise in the works, and it would be something of a doozy. He considered warning Jay but thought better of it. Since this was her first time interacting with Constance in her natural element, she deserved to experience it in raw form.