The Rise and Fall of D.O.D.O.: A Novel

by Neal Stephenson

  I must begin by emphasizing that none of these events were within my power to alter, in large part due to the somewhat decentralized nature of our current org chart and the inherent limitations of managing Anachrons, MUONs, and other personalities who are not a good match for modern organizational discipline.

  Having said that, below is a summary of events courtesy of Macy Stoll after interviewing all relevant witnesses. I believe at this point you are aware, at least anecdotally, of most of what happened, but you may consider the following account definitive:

  Per established HR procedures, Dr. Blevins was interviewing Rachel bat Avraham in Conference Room #2. This was a quarterly review, of the sort normally conducted by Lieutenant Colonel Lyons, but since LTC Lyons was away on a DEDE, Dr. Blevins had decided to conduct the review himself.

  Under normal circumstances this interview would have been unremarkable. Rachel’s personnel record indicated a few areas that were in need of improvement, which Dr. Blevins brought up in the conversation as a matter of course. Dr. Blevins reported after the incident that Rachel showed signs of being under considerable emotional distress, presumably related to the upcoming climax of our 1203 Constantinople operations and possible repercussions for the family and friends she left behind in that DTAP.

  Rachel became highly emotional and announced her intention to return home at once. Dr. Blevins reminded her that this was forbidden. A confrontation developed and Dr. Blevins informed her that he would summon DOSECOPS if needed to prevent her from gaining access to an ODEC. She reached into her purse and drew out a small canister of pepper spray which she discharged in Dr. Blevins’s general direction. He did not sustain a direct hit, but the cloud of spray drifted into his face and created intense irritation of the eyes and nasal passages, forcing him to leave the conference room and grope his way down the hall to the men’s washroom where he washed his face in a sink for several minutes before recovering to the point where he could summon DOSECOPS. By that time, Rachel had long since fled the room.

  Subsequent review of security camera footage shows that Rachel proceeded via the back stairwell to the cellar level where she entered the bio-containment area and passed directly through it without performing any of the required decontamination procedures. ODEC numbers 1 through 3 were vacant, but ODEC #4 was occupied by Nadja Cole, a MUON in training, recruited only three months ago. She was using the ODEC to do “homework” related to her training program; she was not there to Send anyone, nor does she yet have the seniority or training required to do so.

  Because of Rachel’s seniority, Nadja did not question her when she requested entry to the ODEC. Once the two of them were closed up together inside of ODEC #4, we lose the thread of the story, since our only witness is Nadja, and it appears that Rachel employed magical techniques of some sort to cloud her judgment and induce her to Home Rachel back to 1203 Constantinople. Nadja’s account of what happened is fuzzy and clearly unreliable. Since Homing is a much easier spell than Sending, apparently Nadja, with Rachel’s assistance, was able to accomplish it.

  We will likely never have the complete story of what Rachel did upon returning to her home DTAP. The historical record is, at the moment, clouded by GLAAMR and impossible to make sense of. LTC Lyons is expected to be Homed three days from now and may be able to supply some further details.

  Dr. Blevins was examined by Dr. Srinavasan in-house and discharged with oral and topical medications to control swelling and discomfort from the pepper spray. No permanent injuries are anticipated.

  Nadja has been placed on administrative leave pending the outcome of a more formal investigation.

  The bio-containment zone is still being scrubbed down as per protocol and is expected to be back in working order in time for LTC Lyons’s scheduled return.

  AFTER ACTION REPORT

  DEBRIEFER: Dr. Melisande Stokes

  DOER: LTC Tristan Lyons

  THEATER: Constantinople

  OPERATION: Galata

  DEDE: Relic relocation

  DTAP: Pera, Constantinople, July 1203

  STRAND: Fourth and last repetition of this DEDE

  (Note to readers: Refer to the reports on the first three repetitions of this DEDE for general background. The specific DEDE was to enter the abandoned battlefield tent of the Byzantine Emperor, secure a religious relic of importance to Orthodox Christians, and move it to a different tent so that it would be found by the Bishop of Halberstadt. —MS)

  As I [Lyons] knew going into this, the battle for Galata Tower took place over the course of two days, and my DEDE had to be accomplished the first day. But I had to remain until the end of the second day before I could connect with our KCW to Home me.

  This was my fourth Strand prosecuting this DEDE, so at this point I knew, or thought I knew, what to expect.

  I’m passing as a member of the Varangian Guard. I’ve attained enough seniority and respect by this point that I’m working as part of the Emperor’s personal guard. In peacetime that means standing near him when he goes to church or whatever, but in wartime it means being near him on the battlefield.

  The battle strategy for both sides of this conflict is all over the wiki, so I don’t need to explain that. The Emperor’s so-called navy is in appalling shape, it’s just a handful of ships literally rotting in the harbor, and the Emperor’s army is an embarrassing joke except for the Varangian Guard.

  We were camped out on the steep hillside that’s north across the Golden Horn from the old walled city.

  [The Golden Horn is the inlet that serves as the city’s harbor. —Mel]

  Across the Bosporus from us, so on the Asian side, is where the Crusaders had been camped since they arrived a few weeks earlier. The Emperor had sent emissaries over there to them, with bribes and threats, telling them, “I’m the Emperor, why are you trying to replace me with this punk kid nobody wants?” and the Crusaders’ response had been, “Actually, no, we’ve got the real king right here in our pocket, and we’re putting him on your throne.” They didn’t want to attack the city, they just wanted to get rid of the “tyrant.”

  There’s two notable things about the hillside where we are camped with the Emperor. First, there’s Galata Tower, which is a huge stand-alone structure right at the top of the hill. It’s one of the best-sited strategic defenses I’ve ever seen. Archers can shoot at anyone approaching from the Bosporus, or the Golden Horn, or even the Sea of Marmara, or from inland. The single most important thing they’re guarding is the chain that goes across the entrance to the Golden Horn. That inlet is so deep and narrow that it feels like a river mouth, more than a harbor. The chain is enormous, it’s held up by a series of barges, and the only way to undo the chain is through a mechanism at the foot of the hill where Galata is. So the archers in Galata Tower, more than anything else, are there to keep invaders away from the mechanism that releases the chain. That’s the defensive mantra of Constantinople: nobody can scale the walls, nobody can break the chain, so what matters is, don’t let anyone near the mechanism that releases the chain. If you’re invading, if you want to get near the mechanism, you first have to take Galata Tower. Which is pretty much untakeable.

  The other thing of note on the hill is Pera, the Jewish neighborhood. On a map, you could draw a line east from Galata Tower across the Bosporus to the Asian shore, where the Crusader army was attacking from. You could also draw a line south from Galata Tower that would cross Pera, then cross the Golden Horn to the old city. We were camped outside the tower, close to Pera.

  That explains why the Emperor and his army were in tents—knowing that the Crusader attack was going to be directed against the Galata Tower, they had been deployed on the north side of the Golden Horn to protect it.

  On the morning of July fifth, it’s no secret that the Crusaders are about to attack. We—the Emperor’s army—are fully geared up, the tower full of archers. On the hillside going down to the Bosporus are thousands of Byzantine soldiers fully armed and ready for the Crusaders to attac
k. None of them were really worried, because when you’re looking at that intense Bosporus current, it seems obvious that the Crusaders could not cut directly across in those particular ships—those ships weren’t built for the Bosporus, they were built for Alexandria, they were never supposed to be anywhere near Constantinople. Even if they could get across, they would have to anchor in that current, which would be extremely challenging, and then disembark without first being picked off by our archers. That was not going to happen. They were sailing into their own destruction. Of course, I knew better, but I kept my mouth shut and just let it all happen.

  So the Crusader ships approach us. The Emperor gives the order for my contingent of VGs to reinforce the archers up in the Galata Tower. By the time I and my guys are up to where we have a decent vantage point, the archers in the tower are barraging the ships with fire-arrows, regular arrows, stones, we’re so sure we’re going to annihilate them and litter the Bosporus with their shit-stained armor.

  But then something happened: the sides of the Crusaders’ ships broke open and thousands of knights on horseback came leaping out of the holds, straight into the water. In that moment of the Byzantines’ amazement, the archers on the boats began to shoot at us. After loosing one flight of arrows, they jumped into the water, ahead of the horses, with their bows and quivers held up over their heads, and as soon as they were in water shallow enough to keep their bowstrings dry, they began to shoot up the hillside. In full chain mail and some plate armor. As I said, this was my fourth Strand so I’d already seen it three times, but it was an astounding thing to watch. Makes footage of the Normandy landings look like nothing special.

  Then the same thing happened that had happened on every Strand: the Emperor turned and fled, and most of his army fled with him. There wasn’t a battle, it was just them getting chased by the Crusaders along the shore of the Golden Horn, about a mile inland, where there was a bridge across the water that the Emperor’s army crossed over and then burned behind them.

  The only part of the Emperor’s army that didn’t flee was the tower garrison, which was largely Varangian Guards but also partially local conscripts. I was still there. The whole hillside, including the imperial camp, was emptied. I knew I had about an hour and a half before the Crusaders returned. So I fulfilled my DEDE—went into the Emperor’s abandoned tent, got the relic, put it into the other tent so that it would be found by somebody we need it to be found by. So the DEDE was accomplished without incident just as on the other Strands.

  Now I just had to wait to rendezvous with a KCW, and since I know how things pan out, I know there will be a KCW in the Crusaders’ army who can Send me back tomorrow. That’s what I had done the first three Strands. I just have to survive through the rest of what’s to come, without accidentally telegraphing anything to any of my cohort.

  So I re-enter the tower. Approximately one hour later, as I knew, the Crusader army comes back and tries to get at the mechanism releasing the chain, but we have shitloads of arrows and, more important, fire-arrows. More specifically, fire-arrows made with Greek fire, which burns more when it touches water, so we’re making them weep down by the casing to the chain-release. Their squires are holding shields over their heads to protect them, with water-soaked hides over them, and we’re lighting the fucking shields on fire.

  Their leader, the Marquis, finally calls them off. They pillage the Emperor’s camp (and the right guy finds the relic I moved, so my DEDE is officially a success despite what happened next) and spend the afternoon and evening hollering up to us in every language they can think of, trying to bribe us to just give up the tower. Obviously we don’t. So eventually they get drunk and squat in the Emperor’s camp for the night, celebrating. They know there’s only a couple dozen of us in the tower, and once they take us down, then they’ll have Galata, which means they’ll get into the harbor, which means they’ll get into the city. They know tomorrow is theirs.

  But what they don’t know is that all through the night, what looks like regular ferry traffic across the harbor is actually thousands of armed soldiers, disguised like ragmen and coal sellers and Jews and fishermen, sneaking across from the walled city, up the hillside by Pera and into the tower. By dawn we are all packed in like anchovies. It’s a miracle nobody accidentally castrates anyone else, and the stench of all those bodies is so intense, it’s almost psychotropic.

  The Crusaders think there’s approximately thirty soldiers inside, when it’s now nearly a hundred times that. In the morning, we wait for the moment when the Crusader knights are getting geared up with their squires’ help, and the grooms are saddling the horses—they all do it at the same time, which is ill-considered, because right at this moment, when they are all vulnerable, we hurl open the gates of the tower and a thousand soldiers burst out and rush the Crusaders, swords and axes swinging, spears flying—and at the same time, thousands more are shooting fire-arrows down the slope at everyone on the ships, who thought they weren’t even in the game today. We had a catapult on the roof of the tower that hurled boulders down into the Bosporus—they didn’t hit any of the ships but they made waves big enough to capsize the smaller ones. The whole Crusader army was almost literally caught with its pants down.

  Half of the Crusaders just fled because they were unarmed, or because they were servants whose pay grade didn’t include armed combat. They scattered immediately into the woods beyond the camp. Meanwhile there are hundreds of thousands of citizens of Constantinople sitting on the walls of the city, watching this from across the Golden Horn like it’s reality TV. Most of them don’t actually care who wins because they understand it’s just about who sits on the throne, they know the Crusaders aren’t here to try to actually harm the city itself. All the potential emperors are assholes, and they’re all related to each other, it hardly matters which one wins. So the citizens are literally picnicking and placing bets on who wins the day.

  Finally the Crusader knights were mounted, and their foot soldiers got their heads together enough to finish armoring and grab their weapons, and we finally had full engagement. We still had the advantage of topography, because we were coming from the top of the hill and they were down the slope. Two Greek soldiers ran right up to the Crusader army, grabbed a lord, slashed him across the face, and began to drag him back toward the tower, but one of his knights went after him and hacked the heads off both of the Greeks, and brought the lord back to the safety of the crusading army. The whole thing happened in about thirty seconds.

  That shifted everything—suddenly the Crusaders rose to the occasion, cheering and catcalling, and Christ, talk about a counterattack. None of our men had horses, and most of them were conscripted—they didn’t want to be there, they had essentially no military training. So as soon as things got really heated, they deserted their stations. Some of them ran down to the harbor chain to try to pull themselves across the Golden Horn on it—it could take the weight, those links were nearly as big as I am—but the Crusader archers picked them off easily. Remember, there’s a quarter of a million people watching this for their morning entertainment. It was surreal.

  Abruptly, there’s only a couple hundred of us left, and we start to realize (of course, I knew this all along) that we better close the gates of the tower before the Crusaders come charging in.

  To be more precise, they have to close the gates; I have to get my butt out the gates and away from there. As much as it insults my military instinct, I can only meet my KCW if I get away from the tower, because all the Varangians in that tower are going down. So—just like the three times before—I push my way out during that moment of confusion, when the Varangians and Greeks are trying to close the gates while the Crusaders are trying to force them to stay open. I’m wearing Varangian lamellar armor, relatively lightweight, so I have more mobility than the Crusaders whose ranks I have to break through. I jab at a couple of armpits and groins to encourage bodies to get out of my way, but my goal isn’t to terminate anyone, it’s just to get out of there. I
know how it ends. My job is not to stick around for it. It’s hard because I know some of those men pretty well now and leaving them to their doom while I slip away to find a witch to Send me home . . . we should consider getting counselors to help soldiers deal with that, it could fester into PTSD.

  The only other Varangian I see fleeing the tower is Magnus. He follows me out of the place. He’s got his eye on me. I think he’s expecting me to grab a boat oar and single-handedly mow down a few hundred armed knights or something. But in all of the confusion it’s easy enough for me to elude him.

  So I get out, away from the tower, and I watch. I watch the Crusaders barely manage to pry the gates back open, and I watch them stream into the tower, and I hear the carnage inside, and I know what it means.

  That’s when it happened.

  I knew what was supposed to happen next. The Crusaders were supposed to go down and open up the casing for the chain mechanism, release the chain, and sail into the harbor, to the astonished horror of their quarter million spectators. Then they send across the Bosporus for the rest of their camp—especially the women and the cooks. There’s a KCW in the Crusader army, and she’s supposed to Send me back here. Meanwhile the Jews of Pera are frantically packing their bags and hightailing it out of town to start the well-documented Byzantine Diaspora. All of that is what happened three Strands in a row.

  But this time something happens that has never happened before: there is a massive flash of light and an explosion on the harbor side of the hill, right exactly where Pera is. The entire hillside—all of Pera, which was built of stone—is flaming. This has never happened before, I have no idea why it’s happening, obviously at the time I didn’t know that Rachel had come back to 1203 and meddled by telling people what was coming. I realized from the 1601 London DTAP that this has got to be Diachronic Shear and I knew I had to get as far away as possible. So I run toward the woods and wait to see what happens when all the fire and explosions die down. That happens very fast, actually—just like in London.