“Excellent, Admiral Armbruster. That was my goal, and my hope. You and your men have been through enough fighting the war. Now, let’s get on with living the peace.”
Armbruster stood, and Dunham followed suit. The Emperor held out his hand, and Armbruster shook it.
“Good spacing to you, Admiral Armbruster. I hope you find the inner peace to help you enjoy the outer peace you helped craft.”
“Thank you, Sire.”
With that, Dunham cut the channel.
Back in his command chair on his VR bridge, Armbruster looked at the hellish maelstrom that had been Olympia in his tactical display.
“I did what I could, Miriam, Bob, Dora,” Armbruster muttered. “May the Emperor find them all and send them all straight to hell.”
Otto Stauss didn’t like what he was seeing. He didn’t like it at all. The more he thought about it, the more upset he got about it.
He considered a mail address in his system – a very private mail address – for a long time before he composed a short message and sent it.
Back in his office, Dunham checked his mail and found a message from Otto Stauss.
Stauss to Dunham: I beg urgent audience with Your Majesty to present a matter of Imperial importance. Your humble subject. Otto Stauss.
That was curious. Otto Stauss had never contacted Dunham directly. Not in connection with the freighter loan, what – eight years ago now? Nine? Something like that. Never contacted Dunham about the salvage business, either, and that was at least two years ago now. He had never contacted him during the Sintar-DP War, and he had had Dunham’s private mail address throughout the war. He had also been more than a little intimidated talking directly to the Emperor about the salvage business two years ago. He must have had more than a little trepidation about contacting Dunham directly. What would make Otto Stauss send that message? Little alarm bells started ringing in the back of Dunham’s head.
Dunham sent Stauss a meeting invite into channel 22, the simulation of his office where they had last met. He got a confirmation message when Stauss entered the channel, and Dunham joined him there.
Stauss shot to his feet when Dunham appeared behind his desk.
“Be seated, Mr. Stauss.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“Proceed, Mr. Stauss.”
“Yes, Sire. I monitor the markets – options markets, stock markets – as a routine matter in the course of running my businesses. They tell me a lot about what shipping needs will be and the like. I noticed something that seemed unusual, and, as I looked into it, I became more and more concerned. I think it is evidence of a plot against the Empire.”
“Mr. Stauss, I believe I need Milady Empress to join this discussion. She is knowledgeable about finance and markets. Would you mind if she joined us?”
“Of course not, Your Majesty.”
Dunham nodded and got a distant look for a moment.
Dunham to Peters: Please join me in channel 22 to talk with Otto Stauss. Business attire.
Peters appeared in the other chair in front of Dunham’s desk. She was not using the avatar dressed in her wedding gown, but her other avatar, dressed in normal business attire. She bowed her head to Dunham, and nodded to Stauss.
“Your Majesty. Mr. Stauss.”
Stauss stood and bowed to her.
“Milady Empress.”
“Be seated, Mr. Stauss.”
“Yes, Milady.”
“Mr. Stauss, please begin again for Milady’s benefit.”
“Of course, Sire.”
Stauss repeated his opening. It clearly got Peters’s interest. Dunham was content to let her carry the conversation.
“What did you see, Mr. Stauss?”
“Something curious, Ma’am. There is big money moving into the options markets, betting against Sintar.”
“After the war was over, Mr. Stauss?”
“Yes, Ma’am. Large purchases of puts on big Sintar corporations. The Imperial Bank. Other huge companies. These were sizable blocks, from multiple sources.”
“That is counter-intuitive, Mr. Stauss.”
“Yes, Ma’am. So I began to look into it. Following the money. Many of these records are public, or are available on subscription services of the sort I need to run my businesses. Combining those with other public records, I began to get a very troubling picture.
“The money is coming from outside the Empire – or I guess, inside the Empire now. It’s coming from within the former Democracy of Planets, Ma’am. From very large holding companies. The Auer Group and others in its investor circle.”
“Investor circle, Mr. Stauss?”
“People like the Auer Group invest in lots of different companies, Ma’am. These companies have other investors as well. But you often find it is the same group of investors that are invested in the same companies. They sort of run together, like a dog pack.”
“I see, Mr. Stauss. And these large holding companies are betting against Sintar companies?”
“Yes, Ma’am. In large amounts. Huge blocks of puts. That sort of thing.”
“I’m sorry, Milady,” Dunham said. “What’s a put?”
“The option to sell a company at a given price at a later time, Your Majesty,” Peters said. “Let’s say a company is trading at fifty credits a share. You might buy a put on the company at forty-five credits a share. If the company later goes below forty-five credits a share, you exercise the option at forty-five credits, and then buy back in at the lower price.”
Stauss was nodding.
“That’s exactly it, Sire,” he said. “Then you clear the box – cancel your long position with the short position – and pocket the difference between the strike price of the put and the actual current price, minus what the put cost you in the first place.”
“Is that a way to make money, Mr. Stauss?” Dunham asked.
“Yes, Sire. Lots of money. Stocks go up on the escalator, but they go down on the elevator – when they don’t just jump off the balcony.”
“So someone is betting stocks in Sintar-based companies are going to crash, Mr. Stauss?” Dunham asked.
“Yes, Sire. Not just some Sintar companies, or in some market segments. It’s a very broad position. And it’s not just somebody. It’s a specific group of somebodies. Very rich somebodies. In the former Democracy of Planets.
“Now, one way to make money with a play like that is if you know something bad is going to happen. The other way is to make something bad happen.
“That to me translated into a direct threat against the Empire, and perhaps against yourself, Your Majesty.”
Dunham looked to Peters. She was nodding as Stauss spoke. She turned to Dunham.
“He’s right, Your Majesty. The thing about puts is that it doesn’t have to be a broad recession or anything like that. A shock to the markets that depresses prices below the strike prices for even a short period of time is long enough to jump in, exercise the put, and buy back out at the lower price. Some very bad short-term news could do it. An assassination, for example.”
Dunham nodded. Peters turned back to Stauss.
“Mr. Stauss, would you happen to have brought the records of your researches with you?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“I would very much like those if you would.”
“Of course, Ma’am.”
Stauss handed Peters a sheaf of papers that appeared in his hand, the simulation’s model for him pushing the file to her.
“Thank you, Mr. Stauss.”
“You’re welcome, Ma’am.”
“Thank you for bringing this to our attention, Mr. Stauss.”
“Of course, Sire.“
“And if we need additional information or to discuss the matter further, we can be in touch with you?”
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
“Very well.”
Dunham bowed his head to Stauss and cut the channel.
Back in his office, Otto Stauss stared at the wall for ove
r an hour, running the numbers in his head. Of course, he was doing it in VR so it was not really ‘in his head.’ He was using some very sophisticated modeling tools.
Stauss then placed a call to Gunther Kaube, the Sector Vice President of the Imperial Bank for Baden Sector.
“Yes, Mr. Stauss. How may I help you today?” Kaube asked.
“Mr. Kaube, what is my current credit limit with the bank?”
“Against which company, Mr. Stauss?”
“Stauss Battlefield Services. How much money can I borrow against that income stream?”
“A substantial amount, Mr. Stauss. How much money were you thinking about borrowing?”
“Eight to ten trillion credits. Something like that.”
Kaube’s eyebrows shot up, then he was quiet as he ran numbers in another VR channel.
“Actually, Mr. Stauss, ten trillion credits is not out of line with that income stream and an exclusive salvage license on those sites.”
“Excellent, Mr. Kaube. Could you arrange that line of credit for me and send me the account number?”
“Of course, Mr. Stauss.”
“Thank you, Mr. Kaube.”
Stauss cut the connection and buzzed his son’s office. Dieter Stauss came into the room in a couple of minutes.
“What’s up, Dad?”
“We have some research to do. Somebody is shorting Sintar stocks in a big way, and we’re going to take a counter-position. A very large counter-position.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?”
“Yes. What isn’t wise is to bet against this Emperor. Somebody has, and they’re going to get their clocks cleaned. I want in on the fun.”
Covert Op
“Be seated, General Daggert.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“General Daggert, it has been brought to my attention someone in the former Democracy of Planets is betting large sums in the markets against Sintar stocks. I have also been warned the people who actually ran the DP, and started the wars, are very rich corporations and individuals operating behind the scenes. It appears there is a substantial overlap between these two groups.”
“I see, Sire.”
“It has also been pointed out to me one way for these large investment bets to pay off is if something bad happened to me. So it appears our war with the DP is not over, but has moved into your area of operations.”
“I understand, Sire.”
“I’m pushing you recordings of two meetings I had this morning, and Milady Empress will be sending you the results of her analysis of these investments and of the payments made to politicians within the former DP.”
“Excellent, Sire.”
Daggert thought a moment.
“You know, Your Majesty, we always have a number of spies and foreign agents on the Palace staff. We encourage people to allow themselves to be recruited, and then we play them as double agents. We figure it’s better to know who they are. If some organization didn’t have someone on the inside, they might keep trying until they found someone who didn’t report it to us. I’ll have to check on recent activity and see if something is coming to a head. Maybe we can play along with some operation and get them to out themselves.”
“Excellent, General Daggert. Perfect. Keep me advised.”
“Yes, Sire.”
Daggert reviewed the materials in his office. Then he took a look at current double-agents within the Palace staff. He called in Brigadier General David Mercer. Mercer normally ran the double-agents on the Palace staff.
The Imperial Guard was top-heavy because, in times of peril to the Emperor, the Imperial Marines were their reserves. Senior Imperial Guard officers often took detached duty in the Imperial Marines, fourragère and all, to earn their stars. Mercer’s last detached duty had been with the Imperial Marines counter-intelligence unit.
Mercer reported to Daggert in his office.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Be seated, General.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“General, we have credible intelligence someone is planning something nasty, probably involving the Emperor, and probably happening soon. Are any of your agents reporting anything unusual lately?”
“Just one, Sir. He was recently recruited by someone claiming to be an undercover Imperial Police agent investigating plots against the Emperor. We checked with Imperial Police and they have nothing of the kind going on, of course. They would have let us know. Anyway, the staffer said he has been contacted again by the supposed Imperial Police agent.”
“Who is it?”
“Tim Pierce, Sir. He’s a maintenance worker. HVAC.”
“OK. Keep a close eye on things, General. Maybe he’s our man and maybe he’s not. But I think we need to play this contact along. See if we can’t trigger something indiscreet.”
“Sounds like a good idea to me, Sir.”
‘”Oh, geez. Look at this. What a mess,” Stenis Dernier said as he looked out over the new network map for the former Democracy of Planets.
Dernier was the group leader for the QE network operations center. He was in the network simulation with Sayuri Mori and Pavel Sokolov, the group leaders for the VR network operations center. Mori was group leader for transport, and Sokolov was group leader for applications. Their avatars in the simulation were the ones preferred by network ops professionals – just head, shoulders, and arms, to manipulate the network map. They moved about by volition alone.
“It’s amazing this has held up, to be honest,” Sokolov said.
“Look at their traffic levels, though,” Mori said. “With this little traffic, they’re getting by, if just. With our normal traffic levels, this would all come crashing down.”
“That’s because their penetration of VR in the populace is, what? Maybe ten percent?”
“They don’t have anywhere near ten percent of our traffic for the same population, though,” Dernier said.
“Of course not,” Sokolov said. “You only have a ten percent chance the person you want to contact has VR, even if you do.”
Dernier nodded. It was the network effect. When penetration of VR exceeded seventy-five or eighty percent, traffic exploded as every possible application moved onto the network. Until then, separate means were required because of the large non-VR population.
“So what do they use for interpersonal communication?”
“Audio telephones and text messages, I think,” Sokolov said.
Dernier and Mori just stared at him.
“That’s what I was told, anyway,” Sokolov said.
“Incredible,” Dernier said.
“So what’s this new assignment from Projects?” Dernier asked.
“We’re supposed to work on how to follow messages in this network,” Mori said, waving to the map of the former DP’s QE and VR networks. “My understanding is we’re going to have to track some messages. Follow them to see where they go.”
“In this mess?” Dernier asked.
“Yeah, in this mess,” Sokolov said. “I was told it was an Imperial Guard assignment. Something big going down.”
“Not as big as the coronation, though,” Dernier said. “Remember that?”
“Yeah, that was fun,” Mori said. “The good old days.”
All three laughed. The big hubbub around the coronation nine years ago had been a huge network problem. This looked simple in comparison.
“All right,” Dernier said. “Well, let’s bring in the troops and see what we can find out. Everything will be easier with practice, so we might as well get started.”
“Don’t lose it! Don’t lose it!” Mori said.
“Sorry, ma’am. It’s gone.”
“This is a lot harder than we thought,” Dernier said.
They all used the same hyperspace map now, but their groups could each see the view of it they wanted and needed. They used to do that in two separate VR Network Operations Centers. It was better now they were all in the same NOC, in the same map. It made it easier to coordi
nate. The hard part had been jiggering the simulation so they could each see the version of the map they wanted.
“How many is that now?” Sokolov asked.
“Ten,” Dernier said.
“We need to be doing something else,” Mori said.
“It’s their stupid planetary nodes,” Sokolov said. “The message goes in one of those rat’s nests, and if you catch it coming out, you’re just lucky. And it looks like every message passes through all eighty thousand planets getting where it’s going.”
“That’s because they’re using single QE links, and they’re wiring the QE boxes together with cables,” Dernier said.
“What?” Mori asked.
“Like I said. The nodes each have a cabling map at the QE level. It’s cables,” Dernier said.
“They don’t have multilink QE nodes?” Mori asked.
“Apparently not,” Dernier said.
“No wonder we can’t follow them. That’s screwed up,” Mori said.
“I wonder if I can add a flag to messages,” Sokolov said.
“To all traffic?” Dernier asked.
“Not all traffic in the Empire,” Sokolov said. “Not even all traffic on Sintar. But to all traffic with a specific sending user ID. We know who we’re going to be looking for, right?”
“We will, but it may be on short notice,” Mori said.
“It won’t take long to tag a user for putting the flags on,” Sokolov said. “Let me build a little app and let’s try it.”
“Wait. I have an idea,” Mori said. “Can you make it so the flag tags the recipient, and now his messages are flagged, too? Make the chain, say, ten deep?”
“Make it a virus and put a suicide counter on it? Sure, I think so,” Sokolov answered.
“Good. Do that then. Because I think whoever our bad boy tells whatever, that new bad boy will want to tell all his friends, and they will probably be interesting as well.”
Mori thought about it a moment.
“Oh, and throw a copy of all the flagged messages in a file as well.”
EMPIRE: Conqueror (EMPIRE SERIES Book 6) Page 19