“What do you want?”
[To be of assistance. We will be able to help you soon. And you may be able to be of assistance to us as well, in time.]
Gallego frowned. That answer really didn’t resolve her confusion. She tried again.
“What do you want with me right now?”
There was no immediate answer. For a few seconds, she was alone in the gallery, aware of only her surroundings and her own breathing. Just as she was deciding she had had enough, she got an answer.
[They’ll ask things of you, Veronika. They hope you will solve their problem. Be prepared.]
She tried to answer but managed only a stutter at first. She would have asked who they were referring to, what they were referring to, and what the problem was. But there was one thing she needed addressed before all that.
“Who are you?”
No answer. Another pause that left her feeling even more impatient.
“Dammit! Answer me!”
The reply, when it came, was simple, and made no sense.
[We’re here, Ms. Gallego. We’re here.]
GALLEGO’S EYES SNAPPED open. She was no longer in the belly of the beast. Above her was the metal ceiling that indicated she was inside a bunkbed. Slowly, she became aware of the person standing next to her, their soft voice repeating the same words.
“We’re here, Gallego. We’re here.”
Her eyes resolved the figure of a slender woman in blue coveralls. A beautiful one too, her hair falling over his face like a black waterfall. It took her a second to shake off the fog and realize that it was Cheboi. Sitting up, she looked around the cabin and tried to recall her surroundings. “Where are we?”
“Gaia. We’ve reached the top of the Thread and are preparing to disembark now. We need to get ready.”
Gallego looked past Cheboi to spot the observation window at the far end of the lounge. Sure enough, the edge of Earth’s blue disk shone brightly. It was daytime in this hemisphere, and the sunlight flooded the blue marble. From where they were positioned, at the top of the Terran space elevator, they had a perfect view of the Atlantic Ocean.
That was enough to fill in the blanks in Gallego’s mind. They had left Venus behind and were now well into their journey towards the Jovian System. After their hop between Venus and Earth, they would now be boarding a star liner that would take them the rest of the way.
Gallego looked at Cheboi, who appeared both concerned and confused.
“Ah, yes. So, I see.”
Gallego pulled herself up and moved her feet over the edge of her bunk. Her head felt like it was spinning, and her legs were more than a little rubbery. Cheboi moved to help her.
“Are you feeling all right? You were sleeping hard there. You didn’t wake up when we got the notification.”
Gallego called up an overlay and saw that she had received the notification of their arrival a few minutes ago. Strange that she hadn’t woken up when it chimed her. The sleep she had been enjoying must have been rather deep indeed.
What’s more, she felt the faint tug of a half-remembered dream on her. She had been standing somewhere familiar, hearing loud noises coming from all around, and then there was someone talking to her. At that point, all details became completely fuzzy and irretrievable.
Gallego shook it off and wiped a thin film of sweat from her forehead. She responded to Cheboi’s question at last.
“Yes, I haven’t had a solid night’s sleep in a while. I guess I’m also getting used to the time differences.”
“Not to worry,” replied Cheboi. “As soon as we’re aboard the liner, we’ll be going down for a nice cryosleep. By the time you wake up, you’ll feel like you’ve slept a whole year.”
Gallego chuckled. Cheboi was speaking metaphorically, but the amount of time they would spend in stasis wouldn’t be that far off. By the time they reached the Jovian system, several months would have passed.
“I’ve got our things ready,” said Cheboi, indicating two satchels that were beside her on the floor. “We should get going.”
“Yes, of course.” Gallego called up her bio monitors and issued the necessary instructions to boost her adrenalin, circulation and blood oxygen levels. In seconds, she was rewarded by the rapid onset of lucidity. She also did some quick neck and back adjustments, which produced some pleasant cracks.
Gallego took one last look out the window and gazed upon the white, swirling patterns of clouds that were hanging above a sea of azure. It made her sigh audibly. And in that moment, she was reminded of one of the last things she had said to Burhan in person.
“We’re all still terrestrial monkeys looking for Sun, sky, and some nice land to live on.”
She was sure that a blue ocean could be thrown into that equation as well.
The thought made Gallego smile and then wince, knowing that this fond memory was also the last pleasant conversation she and Burhan had had. Yet, looking back on everything that had happened between then and now, she couldn’t imagine doing things differently. The only possible way would have been had she not answered Elenko’s call. Then she and Burhan could have worked out their issues on their own time.
There, too, she couldn’t imagine that things would have worked out differently. Sooner or later, her desire to be on the move would have irritated him one time too many. At that point, Gallego would have likely found herself in a situation like the one she faced now. Looking for a job that would take her away somewhere and let her put space between her and the man whose heart she had broken.
“You coming?” said Cheboi, standing in the open doorway.
“Yeah,” replied Gallego. “Just admiring the view one last time.”
SIXTEEN
HOUTE LOOKED BEYOND the small circle of faces to admire the setting. Constance had outdone herself, creating a setting of unparalleled beauty and wonder. Together Houte, Amaru, Clio, Pinter, and their guests all stood on a carpet of glittering dust and ice. In the background, the bright disk of Jupiter loomed, its Great Red Spot eye staring at them and slowly rotating past.
To either side of them, the worlds of Europa, Ganymede and Callisto were spaced about, their locations not conforming to the actual scale of their distances from each other. The purpose was representation and, indeed, art. More importantly, they represented unity, which was the entire point of the meeting.
To their backs, the distant disk of the Sun hung, casting bright rays on their proceeding. More importantly, it temporarily obscured the faces of Houte and the others to their guests. They, in turn, were as clear as day. On the right side, Rebecca Van Dinh and a handful of her lieutenants stood, the representatives of the Aquiline Front. On the left were Hamish Crannog and some of his closest advisors, representing the Children of Jove.
“Welcome, friends. Thank you for responding to our summons.”
Crannog replied bitterly. “The invitation was hard to ignore.” He looked back and forth at what appeared to be black forms in front of him, his face stretched into a tight frown. “We were told Clio would be hosting us.”
“I’m here,” said Constance. “I hope you will forgive the concealment. For the time being, it’s necessary that my friends remain anonymous.”
“You’re not the only one who’s hiding right now,” Dinh said, stepping forward. “You’ve asked us to risk breaking our cover to talk to you. But you hide your true selves from us?”
“We’re sorry,” said Pinter. “But once we’ve told you what we know, you’ll understand why we’re taking precautions. Like you, we have enemies everywhere, and we can’t be sure that some of what we’re about to say won’t fall into their hands.”
“Not good enough!” Dinh snapped, waving her hand dismissively. “Unless you’ve got constables beating down your doors and arresting everyone in your ranks, you’ve got no business being all clandestine!”
“She’s right!” Crannog agreed. “Show yourselves or this meeting is over.”
Constables beating down your door? Houte thought
this with a smile. You’d be surprised.
Of course, he kept these thoughts to himself. Now wasn’t the time to be comparing their misgivings or swapping stories about their run-ins with the law. Ever since the attack in Selket, everyone had been on edge in the Jovian system. No one could argue that the Children of Jove had been especially hard-hit. As the one’s implicated in the attack, membership in the organization alone had become grounds for arrest. As a closely-linked ally, the Aquiline Front was going through similar troubles.
The only way the leadership had remained free was by going underground. The fact they had even agreed to pop up long enough to talk was something of a minor miracle. And while Pinter wasn’t joking when he said they had enemies, these assurances meant nothing to people fighting to keep their organizations alive.
On this point, Houte decided to intervene.
“They’re right. We can’t ask them to take the risk of talking to us if we’re not willing to do the same.”
It was Constance who replied to him, sending him a thought via his neural loom.
[Now may not be a good time, big brother.]
Houte groaned inwardly that his sister was reaching out through his old implants. He had become accustomed to not using them, and her sudden presence in his mind felt intrusive. Nevertheless, he could respect that Constance didn’t want their guests hearing what they had to say to each other
[Trust works both ways, sister. We’re not going to get anywhere if they don’t trust us.]
[That’s not my biggest concern here. You and Amaru are still at risk and they can find you in real space. I don’t want you exposing yourselves if you don’t need to.]
Houte smiled. Occasionally, Constance reminded him that she also felt the need to look out for him. It was heartwarming to know that this aspect of their relationship wasn’t only one-way. Still, her bravado didn’t inspire confidence. Sometimes, his sister forgot that she still had one foot in the physical world. Until she chose to download and leave him entirely, she too could be harmed.
This thought made Houte look in the direction of Pinter, who appeared as little more than an outline to him. Unlike the rest of them, he alone was capable of escaping into virtual space. If no one ever tracked down where his construct was transmitting from, or all his backup locations, he would always be safe. This made him, and him alone, invulnerable in their current situation.
[It’s a risk, of course, but it’s one we must take, or we’ve come here for nothing. I won’t do it unless we all agree.]
Constance’s voice in his mind went quiet. She appeared to be considering this, and then decided to do it. Suddenly, her avatar became visible, the obscuring light of the Sun no longer causing her profile to appear dark.
Houte noted the reactions of their guests. Both Crannog and Dinh looked visibly shaken to look upon Clio’s face. To Houte, despite her immense capabilities, she was still his little sister. But to them, she was something between an avenging angel and a folk hero. How else would they react to seeing her face at last?
“Oh my,” said one of Crannog’s men. “She’s beautiful.”
Constance giggled. She’d taken no pains in designing her avatar. In fact, it looked exactly as she had once upon a time. But as the old saying went, beauty was in the eye of the beholder. Those who stared at her were in awe of more than just her physical appearance.
Houte followed Constance’s example and revealed himself. This received less in the way of a response. Constance had done a wonderful job with his avatar, restoring his once-youthful appearance and musculature. But after looking upon Clio for the first time, his appearance had little effect.
Amaru followed. Pinter was last and preceded this action with a lament.
“Oh, fine then.” When he resolved at last, their guests breathed a sigh of relief.
“All right,” said Crannog. “Now who the hell are you all?”
Pinter didn’t wait to be introduced. “I’m Pinter Chandrasekhar. Perhaps you’ve heard of me. I was once the leader of the Formists, before my grandson usurped control from me and began plotting behind my back.”
Dinh nodded. “I know who you’re. I also heard that you were dead, though I had my doubts. I’m more interested in what you’re doing here now.”
Pinter looked marginally annoyed. He wasn’t used to people not caring who he was. One of Crannog’s people directed a finger at Houte and Amaru.
“And who are these two?”
“They’re friends,” said Constance. “In fact, this one is my brother.”
All their guests looked in Houte’s direction. Now they looked impressed. The thought that he was related to the great Clio apparently made him worth something in their estimation.
“This one,” she pointed in Amaru’s direction. “This is none other than Doctor Janis Amaru. You may have heard of her too.”
Their guests once again looked impressed. Few had failed to hear about the identities of those that had been identified in the “Cronian Incident”. The fact that she was now standing before them was naturally a bit astounding.
“You were one of the people shot on Titan,” said Dinh. “We heard you were killed.”
Crannog interjected. “Oh, c’mon! You know how their kind are! Death is never permanent.”
“In my case, it should have been,” replied Amaru. “It’s difficult to explain, but some people took great pains to make sure I survived and made it out.”
Crannog scoffed at this. “An interesting tale, I’m sure. So now that we’re past the ‘meet-and-greet’ portion of things, how about you explain what the hell this is about?”
Pinter immediately replied. “What we’re about to tell is a matter of some urgency, and it concerns everyone here. First, let me apologize on behalf of all of us to all of you.”
Dinh’s people and Crannog’s people looked at each other, then back at Pinter.
“What are you talking about?” asked Dinh.
“He means, we four all came together because we have something in common,” said Amaru. “Each of us was screwed over by the same people, in one way or another. In my case, Emile Chandrasekhar tried to kill me. He killed my friend too, who happened to be a friend of Clio and her brother as well. He even tried to murder the memory of his great ancestor.” Amaru placed her hand on his shoulder. Pinter smiled at her warmly, appreciating the addition of the word “great”. He took over where she had left off.
“The point is, once we came together, we made a decision. The information that my grandson was so eager to keep buried that he was willing to kill, we chose to spread to the known universe.”
“The Manifesto,” said Crannog, who then smiled bitterly. “I had a feeling you were responsible for that, Clio.”
Houte felt the tone of their meeting shift. Their guests had been looking upon Clio with something akin to awe. They hung on her every word and treated it like revelation. The admission that she was behind the Manifesto, the very thing that the attack was now being attributed to, had a bombshell-like effect. People on Dinh and Crannog’s side looked dismayed and covered their mouths.
“As I said, we owe you an apology. It goes without saying that neither of your organizations were responsible for the attack. And to be honest, I don’t think there are many who believe you were. You were merely scapegoats, and while I’m sure the authorities know this, they cannot prove it for the time being.”
Crannog and Dinh looked mildly appeased by Pinter’s words. After months of being accused of criminal involvement, it felt good to know that there were those who believed they were innocent.
“You must know that we didn’t anticipate that the Manifesto’s release would trigger this sort of reaction,” Pinter continued. “You see, my grandson had taken great pains to ensure that the information alluded to in the Manifesto was erased. We had hoped that letting him know that it had survived would place him on shaky footing and force him into reacting.”
“I’d say you succeeded!” shouted one of Crannog’s
men. “You’re supposed to be fucking Extros! How come you didn’t foresee something like this?”
“Emile wasn’t behind the attack,” said Constance. Several heads now turned in her direction. “At least, all the signs appear to indicate that it was someone else. Possibly someone who wanted it to look like he was responsible. Emile had too much to lose, mounting that kind of operation. Naturally, he was the first person most of us suspected.”
“Exactly,” added Pinter. “We didn’t foresee such a reaction, but it was because we didn’t anticipate that someone else would want to implicate Emile the way they did. In a way, this is good news as far as our interests are concerned.”
“Good news?” Crannog’s face went red as he said this. His next words had a booming quality that echoed loudly, straining his end of the simulation. “People are fucking dead because of you! How the hell is that good news?!”
His avatar faded in an out for a second, then recovered. Houte wasn’t aware that an outburst could affect the resolution of a DS simulation. But what he had just seen confirmed that it could. Pinter raised his hands apologetically, but Constance was the one to reply.
“What he means is, it would appear that the Formists have rivals, people who are willing to do something desperate and brutal to gain an advantage. It means, we’re not fighting against Emile and his people on our own.”
“Perhaps, but they’re both fighting us. Knowing they’re in disagreement confers no advantage on us.” Dinh said these words sagely.
“This is true,” Clio admitted. “For now, they cannot risk another such attack. The best they can do is hope that the authorities continue to press you and your people, and that the situation here continues to get worse.”
Crannog and Dinh looked at each other and exchanged thoughts wordlessly. Houte knew that this was impossible for them. In addition to having no neural implants, they were several light minutes apart, thus making any such communications as impossible as it would be impractical. But between allies who understood each other, words weren’t even necessary.
The Jovian Manifesto (The Formist Series Book 2) Page 11