“Okay, fine,” Crannog admitted. “Mistakes were made and as usual, it was the people out this way that paid the price. Don’t think this gets you off the hook for the part you played. But if we’re looking to the future, what are we supposed to do with this information?”
“What are you supposed to do?” asked Pinter.
“How doesn’t this help us?” Dinh clarified. “Or was this meeting merely so you could clear your consciences?”
Houte took a deep breath. Their guests weren’t giving them any quarter. Luckily, on that front, they had come prepared.
“There have been some rumblings that the Aquiline Front and the Children of Jove might be contemplating taking reprisals. Not merely against Extros, but against government workers and security personnel.” Clio’s words produced rumbles on the other side. Before they could reply, she continued. “Whether or not these rumbling are true isn’t important. What’s important is that they don’t happen. The last thing we need right now is escalation. This will play into our enemies’ hands.”
“Whoever launched the attack on Selket implicated the Children of Jove for a reason,” added Amaru. “They wanted Ganymede’s security forces focusing on the people who were most stirred up by the Manifesto. In addition to implicating Emile, they wanted us forgetting about what was in the Manifesto and turning on each other.”
There was a moment of silence as their guests considered what they were being told. While they were listening, they were far from convinced.
“Easier said than done,” said someone on the other side. Houte couldn’t tell if it came from the Aquiline side or the Children of Jove’s side. It didn’t matter, since they were clearly all in agreement on this point. Crannog spoke next, expanding on this point.
“The measures Dinh and I have taken to protect ourselves and our members won’t last forever. The Constabulary is out for blood. They won’t stop searching for us until they find us. And we can’t be sure they’ll be in the mood to talk if they find us.”
Dinh added her voice to her counterpart’s. “And in the meantime, they’re harassing our people and violating the rights of our followers. Sooner or later, someone will be pushed too far and will react.”
“We understand that,” replied Clio. “But we’re not asking for your restraint alone. There’s a way out of this crisis, and it’s currently in the works. All that we’re asking in the meantime is that you counsel caution and restraint to your people.”
Another momentary silence, during which time, Crannog and Dinh looked at each other. Dinh was the one to ask.
“What is this way out you speak of?”
Clio looked at Pinter, who nodded to her. “The Solar Council is sending a team to investigate the attack. They’ve been tasked with determining who was behind the attack, and they’ll be arriving on Ganymede shortly. They have expressed interest in finding the perpetrators because, like us, they fear escalation.”
These produced murmurs of confusion. “How do you know this?” asked one of the lieutenants.
“We... were able to listen in on their proceedings,” Clio replied gingerly. “We know who’s coming, and what they hope to accomplish once they get here. We intend to extend an invitation to them and offer our help.”
“What makes you think they’ll even accept it?” asked Dinh.
Clio smiled. Her voice lost all traces of caution and became almost boisterous. “Because in addition to finding out who attacked Selket, they also want to find the authors of the Manifesto. It’s also their hope that they determine whether or not there is any truth to the claims.”
Neither Crannog nor Dinh responded immediately. The news sounded a little too good to be true. A special counsel, and one that was interested in finding the truth.
“As the people who penned that Manifesto, they won’t be able to refuse us,” Pinter said proudly.
For a moment, there was nothing but murmurs of assent and positivity. Houte smiled and saw that everyone he stood with was doing the same. He knew that the mood would change once Clio got around to telling them the rest of the story - like the heavily-armed mercenaries that would surely be making an appearance as well. Or how their plan depended on Crannog, Dinh, and their respective organizations breaking cover and offering their help.
But for the moment, there was consensus. Houte chose to enjoy it, knowing that it would be a long time before such a thing came again.
SEVENTEEN
THE VOICE SHOWED UP again. There were no gears of machines the size of entire buildings around her. No sounds of servo-motors or pistons pumping. Nothing but the feeling of being afloat on a waft of stardust. Surrounded by perpetual night with only the pinpricks of light to see by. Ice and swirls of nebular gas surrounding her, she floated along effortlessly.
Another thing was different. This time, the voice wasn’t so far off. It also didn’t sound like it was suffering from a lack of bandwidth. It was clear as crystal, though she still couldn’t place any identifying characteristics on it. She couldn’t tell if it was male or female, Terran, Cytherean, or something else entirely. But the words reached her with flawless execution.
[Veronika.]
“Who’s there?” she cried out.
[Don’t be alarmed.]
That statement made Gallego scoff. “You keep telling me that. But you won’t tell me who you’re or what you want.”
The reply, when it came, was like a whisper. It came to her as if on a gentle breeze.
[Just for you to understand.]
In the distance, a bright yellow star slowly appeared. Around it, several bands formed, followed by a series of spheres. There were three distinct bands between the Sun and the outermost sphere, all of which were encased by a thick field of grey and white objects.
In the time it took to resolve, Gallego’s mind clued in to what she was seeing. The breakdown was perfect, each band representing a different sphere of influence. Between the first and the second, the Main Belt lay. Beyond them all was the Kuiper Belt. And between the innermost band and the outermost one, three spheres occupied a space that was gradually getting smaller. The bands closest to the Sun and farthest from it were squeezing from both ends.
Somehow, it all made sense to her. But the connection... something was missing.
The voice came back.
[There’s more to this than you recognize, Veronika. This is simply the latest chapter in a story that has been told since time immemorial. Everything hangs in the balance. The slightest misstep could be fatal.]
Gallego frowned. She wanted to ask what these words meant, as they felt vaguely threatening. She wanted to know more about what she was seeing. She wanted to know everything the voice had to tell her. But something was changing. The sense of buoyancy she had felt all along was beginning to fade. She felt suddenly heavier, like something was pulling her down. The quiet night that had surrounded her was becoming brighter and harsher.
“What’s going on?” She voiced the words, but they sounded faint in her own ears. When the voice returned one last time, it too sounded more distant than before.
[They’ll come for you, Veronika. They’ll try to silence you, to suppress the truth. You must be prepared. Look for the signs and know how to follow them. We will be watching.]
CHEBOI HAD BEEN CORRECT. When Gallego awakened in the medical bay, she did feel like she had slept for over a year. While her body felt well-rested and restored, it felt exceedingly difficult to move or sit up. As with every other bout of cryosleep Gallego had endured, the process of coming out of it was long and confusing. Long before she had returned to full wakefulness, there had been that warm, pervasive feeling and the half-remembered dreams.
They always seemed to be the same, too. She was floating in a sky filled with sparkling dust and stars. There were familiar faces and voices. She remembered Elenko, Burhan, and Cheboi being around her. But unlike before, there was nothing combative or annoying about their presence. Elenko wasn’t asking her for favors, Burhan wasn’t b
reaking up with her, and Cheboi wasn’t in the midst of attacking her.
All had been calm and peaceful. Gallego wondered if she could ask her caretaker to record her brainwaves so she could simulate them again later. Her semi-lucid dreams were entirely preferable to her waking reality.
Only one thing was out of place in the whole dream, strange voices reaching to her from the peripheries. They sounded familiar, but at the same time, out of place. This made the memory feel rather ominous, and Gallego wished she could remember.
Déjà vu, she thought. Once more a troubling dream, made even more so because she couldn’t remember the details.
“Good morning, sleepy head.”
Gallego strained to look to her right, where the voice appeared to be coming from. Her eyes were too blurry to see who it was lying next in the chamber next to her. But the voice was familiar enough by now.
“Hello, Cheboi.” The effort of saying those few words left her short of breath. Cheboi’s response was disturbed by her chuckling.
“We’ve now been through cryosleep together. And that’s after I tried to kill you. I think you can call me Adelaide.”
“Okay... Adelaide.” Gallego took a deep breath before speaking this time. “How long have you been awake?”
“Can’t be sure... feels like a while.”
Gallego grunted in agreement. “I know what you mean. Where’s the damn medbot?”
As if on cue, she heard the rapid approach of servomotors. When she looked to her right again, she saw the profile of a silvery figure. It went to Cheboi first, producing a series of medical instruments from its right appendage.
“Hello Ms. Cheboi. Your vitals are all in the green and you appear to be recovering nicely. I’m administering restoratives to help bring you out of your current state.”
“Administer away,” Cheboi replied. There was a gentle buzz and the machine did its thing.
“I advise running a check of your bioimplants. They should indicate a progressive heart rate and increased blood pressure and oxygenation.”
There was a brief pause. Cheboi replied shortly thereafter. “Yep, all good.”
The medbot then turned around to face Gallego. Its silver head and glowing eyes were looking down at her from above. Its inhuman face was rivaled only by its uniform, synthetic voice.
“Hello, Ms. Gallego. Your vitals -”
“I know, skip the talk and get to the injection, medbot.”
The machine obliged her and administered her injection. She barely felt the syringe touch her arm but became aware of the warm feeling spreading through her bloodstream in no time at all. Before the machine could make its next recommendation, Gallego pulled up an overlay and began consulting her bio monitors. Sure enough, they were feeding her positive information.
“I’m doing good, doc. You can go now.”
The medbot whirled away, moving to the other open chambers in the room and the patrons that occupied them. Its voice was too far off at this point to be a bother. Left alone, Cheboi once again engaged Gallego in conversation.
“How long do you think they’ll let us lie here before they kick us out?”
Gallego laughed, though the action made her insides hurt a little. Luckily, it gave her a few seconds to run some numbers through her head.
“If they follow standard protocol, they’ve woken us up with a few days to spare.”
“Plenty of time to nap, then?” Cheboi asked. “You’d think that robot would have told us.”
The thought of the machine made Gallego wince. The cold, shiny exoskeleton and the glowing eyes weren’t exactly a comforting sight, and its bedside manner was less spectacular.
“You’d think they’d invest in a proper Geminoid. I can’t imagine anything more frightening than waking up to that thing. And that voice...”
“It’s a standard liner,” said Cheboi. “You can’t exactly expect all the luxuries.”
“Well, that thing was barely Level III compatible.”
They both chuckled softly. A few more seconds passed before Cheboi asked again.
“So... back to sleep?”
Gallego felt a slight chill. For whatever reason, the thought of going back to sleep didn’t appeal to her. She had the strange feeling something would be waiting for her there. It wasn’t an idea that brought her much comfort.
Her body was increasing in wakefulness, the restoratives removing the fog from her brain and making her body feel vital again. True to form, her body was beginning to crave the things it wanted most at a time like this.
“I’d rather get up. I could use some breakfast and some coffee.”
SHE WAS ONCE AGAIN looking at Ganymede’s disk. This time, the face was entirely lit up, showing the crisscrossed and speckled patterns of its surface. No auroral storms were visible now, and the lights of the settlements below were less visible amidst the reflected sunlight.
Arranged in a circle in the ship’s main deck, Saana and her crew all sat in the room’s seats and gazed up at the holographic recreation. The disk slowly grew larger as the ship’s cameras and sensors fed them data in real-time, updating their approach and resolving more features on the surface and what orbited the moon accordingly.
No words needed to be shared, and no thoughts had to be transmitted between them. Even though they all eyed their objective intently, digesting information as it was fed to them, they all had the same thought on their mind. It was worse than annoying that they were returning here so soon after their last operation. It was bad strategy. The fact that they were being sent back in could only mean that someone or something had screwed up. Saana knew for a fact that it wasn’t on their end.
Saana was pleased no one had chosen to voice these sentiments. It would be unpleasant for her if she had to come to their patron’s defense. Equally unpleasant was the task of having to remind consummate professionals that a job was a job. End of story.
And so, they sat quietly and absorbed the data. By now, a great deal was coming in.
Around the disk of Ganymede, colored lines were plotted that indicated the vectors of satellites, not to mention the spaceships that were coming and going. Whereas most were represented by filaments the color of cobalt, one stood out in a bright golden orange. The line that represented its flight path intersected a small icon surrounded by a reticle. Beneath it, a small cloud of data indicated the ship’s name, its velocity and its registry number.
IPS Iberian.
The vessel was registered to Venus. A simple crew vessel, bulk class. There really was not anything ostentatious or attention-grabbing about it. Saana suspected that was the point. Rather than sending their government snoops on a ship registered to the Cytherean Council, which would have been like sending up a flare for all those concerned, the Cythereans had chosen to scurry their personnel away with the usual flow of human traffic.
The fact that they were packed away inside a vessel with hundreds of other people also meant they couldn’t be dealt with quickly. Were they on an exclusive transport, Saana imagined that one of her squad mates would have recommended firing torpedoes not long ago. The moment their ship had picked the Iberian up on Lidar, they could have fired off a volley and been done with it. The authorities on Ganymede would be none the wiser until the ship exploded, and while they were picking through the debris to determine the cause, Saana and her crew would be long gone.
While inelegant and messy, it would at least be quick.
No such luck here. Taking them out with such ease wouldn’t only fail to implicate the local radicals, it would attract far too much attention. Once the local authorities realized that the ship had been taken out by ship-to-ship missiles, the blame for the attack would surely be focused on an Extropian faction. The blatant stench of conspiracy would fall on the whole thing.
Not that it mattered. As soon as the ship landed, their targets would be out in the open and easily identified. Ensuring they were dealt with without inflicting collateral damage - that was where things would get tr
icky.
Satisfied with their tactical situation, Saana shifted the focus away from the Iberian and onto the surface below. The holodisplay changed and presented her crew with a clear image of Ganymede’s cratered surface. Beyond the edge of Selket, there were several small depressions and basins that would suit them well.
For this mission, they would need to deposit their vessel on the surface. Having it remain in an automated circuit around Ganymede wouldn’t do this time around. There was simply no telling how long it would take before their targets could be dispatched effectively. Leaving their ship in orbit, even one it was invincible to the local tracking systems, was simply not practical.
[Select a landing site,] Saana ordered. The ship’s AI calculated all the necessary telemetry and sensor data and compiled a list of possible landing locations. Once it had that list narrowed down, a series of white reticles formed around three small indentation a few hundred kilometers outside of Selket.
[That one,] she ordered, indicating the one that was closest to the capital. The reticle around her selection turned green. The ship began to bank slightly as its AI altered their route to take them into Ganymede’s thin atmosphere. Saana’s next order was to her crew. But this time the display featured the face of Gallego.
[Re-assimilate all data we have on this person. We do not leave until she is found and killed.]
EIGHTEEN
THE DESCENT TO THE surface was another reminder that they weren’t traveling in style. After joining the other travelers in the departure bay, Gallego and Cheboi were directed to a passenger shuttle that was barely large enough to accommodate them all. Mercifully, Gallego and Cheboi were assigned seats that were next to each other. This way, when it came time to struggle for the armrests, they were fortunate enough to be doing it with a familiar face.
When at last the shuttle disembarked, the automated voice came on and reminded them of where they were going. Like all friendly, automated travel advisories, people traveling from the Inner Worlds needed to be reminded of certain realities.
The Jovian Manifesto (The Formist Series Book 2) Page 12