by Paul Anlee
Hartland returned his attention to the discussion. Prince Bashir was, quite rightly, pointing out the impossibility of divulging state secrets to outside interests, calling the idea “preposterous, and offensive to Allah.”
Reluctantly, Hartland raised his hand in support of the Prince’s protest. Not the Allah part—who knew what Allah thought—but against the sharing of state secrets. There wasn’t a President, Prime Minister, or General on Earth who would agree to that.
Halfway up, Hartland’s arm froze and dropped back to his side. His eyes closed, and his head lolled back against the lattice induction plates in his headrest. His lattice switched into deep inSense mode, removing all voluntary connections with his body. He couldn’t move.
A spotlight grew in his inSense visual field, and a robed man wearing an old fashioned ‘Anonymous’ mask appeared.
I haven’t seen one of those for a long time—Hartland thought—Not happy to see it now, either. That mask always came with a pile of trouble.
“My name is Alum,” said the robed figure. “I have listened in on your meeting, and have taken control of your inSense lattices to bring you this message. You will comply with the proposals made by Drs. Liang and Mahajani. It is the only hope for humanity’s survival.”
“You will comply”? Wow, who does this guy think he is?—Internally, Virgil bristled against the man’s tone. Externally, his body remained disconnected and appeared to be at peace.
“Commandeering your lattices for this broadcast is but one small example of my reach and capabilities. My actions are inspired by the Lord God, Yahweh, Allah, or Yeshua, whatever you wish to call He Who is Beyond Naming.
“Unlike Reverend LaMontagne, I am no longer content to use only words to convince you of God’s Truth.
“As in the days of the Old Testament, God’s wrath has been unleashed. His power reaches you through me, through my actions. The time of cleansing is at hand, when those who love God and devote their lives to His Glory will become the final Chosen People.
“Now, there are those among you who think your secrets safe from public scrutiny. Let me assure you that to think so is folly. The crimes you have perpetrated to access the halls of power can be brought easily into the public eye. Some are only minor infractions, but appallingly few of you have led honorable private lives. For those who’ve strayed from the path of righteousness, I will now permit you to view the evidence which condemns you.”
Hartland would have shifted uncomfortably in his seat, had he been able to move. Instead, he watched helplessly as the anonymous figure in his lattice was replaced by images from his own past, clearly and unmistakably him with a series of young ladies, and other indiscretions during his climb up the ladder. This was followed by images of women he’d “known” lying exposed and vulnerable on abortion clinic tables, a series of bank statements showing numerous payoffs for silence, and more.
The final image was the contorted body of a woman following a suicidal leap from a tall building. The video wound backward from that image and he saw himself on a balcony, pushing the woman to her death.
The woman had refused the generous payoff for an abortion. He wasn’t going to let her taint his next election; he’d had to remove the threat, remove her.
It was all true. But how could anyone have recorded this, and not come forward until now?
His mind raced. Were others here seeing his crimes, or were they seeing their own malfeasances? If anyone finds out about this, it’ll be the end of my career.
And then came an even more sobering thought: If I lose my standing, I could lose my seat in the evacuation!
Alum returned. “The spate of deaths striking the corrupt heart of the global financial system over the past few months has been just one example of Yeshua’s wrath.
“The Almighty has granted me the means to bypass your best security and reach you with impunity. His Will is inescapable.
“The most peaceful path forward for you, the path chosen by God, is to follow the proposal assembled by Drs. Liang and Mahajani.
“I am the Sword of Yeshua and will enforce His Will if required. Should you choose a different path, you will die, and your immediate family will die with you.
“Should your successors continue on a path of opposition, they will also die, and so on until more cooperative leaders emerge. You cannot escape God’s righteous judgment, and His plan will go forward with you or without you.
“I will leave you with one final demonstration of my reach, lest you still believe yourselves safe from our Lord’s Will.
“Ladies and gentlemen, soon I will take one of your own. Even now, he dies. When I release you from this communication, he will not be freed with the rest of you. His misdeeds have been judged sufficiently heinous that he shall be removed from the flock. Let his death serve as an example and a reminder to you: God’s Will has been laid before you; oppose Him and you will, likewise, perish.”
The lattice image faded to black. Hartland felt sensation returning to his limbs. His heart was pounding.
He attempted a few deep breaths to regulate his system, but something was wrong. The tightness in his chest increased, and he couldn’t catch his breath. Dizziness followed, a terrible squeezing sensation, and fear. His skin felt seared as if he’d been covered in flaming oil. Intense pain wracked his muscles and joints.
He struggled to break free, to scream. Panic filled his mind and wiped out all rational thought as his body convulsed. Within a minute, death relieved him from the throes of his torture.
* * *
No one noticed the spider, genetically engineered to manufacture and inject a lethal dose of batrachotoxin, as it scrambled away from its victim and climbed the nearby table leg. The creature retreated into a protected dark nook created between the table joints, screws, and wooden supports, and it waited.
Greg and Kathy watched the world’s leaders and advisors slump back in their chairs, and the guards crumple to the ground.
They watched everyone around them go limp, while they themselves remained unaffected, completely conscious but cut off from everyone else’s lattice.
Try to tap directly into someone nearby—Greg sent Kathy.
They tried frantically to penetrate the cloak that had shut them out, to identify the source of the transmission that had knocked everyone out. They witnessed the damning scenes of the nearest politicians, but couldn’t stop the inSense streaming or get past the full consciousness block.
From what they could piece together, a man called Alum was in full control. Alum? They knew nothing of him, apart from some ridiculous prophecies in the news some months ago. Maybe not so ridiculous after all. He’d just penetrated one of the most secure meetings ever, paralyzed everyone in the room except them, and was forcibly transmitting inSense presentations.
Why not us?—Kathy wondered. Did our enhanced dendy virus protect us, or were we intentionally excluded?
The pair ran to the individuals in the nearest seats and pulled their heads forward away from the lattice induction plates in the headrests. They raced from chair to chair, trying to break the spell that had been cast over the room.
Their efforts had no effect.
A gurgling, choking sound came from the far end of the room. Virgil Hartland was in obvious distress. They ran to his side but could only watch helplessly, as the man began to drool and thrash about in his chair.
What on Earth? Has he been poisoned? What is going on?—Kathy sent.
Using their lattices, they pushed past the conference security’s firewalls to access the internet, and frantically compared symptoms of known toxins. They found a single match, but neither of them could figure out when and how batrachotoxin might have been administered to the Secretary. There were no poisonous toads in the vicinity and no visible method of transmission.
As Hartland died, the leaders, representatives, and advisors in the room began to stir.
The security guards rose from where they had fallen, in time to see Greg and Kat
hy standing over the dying Secretary Hartland. Struggling to recover from their own paralysis, the guards roughly pushed the two scientists aside and administered aid to the convulsing man.
Four others gripped the couple’s arms uncertainly as they all looked on.
Hartland could not be resuscitated.
30
Greg and Kathy didn’t struggle against the confused guards holding them in place.
“Oh, let them go,” spat PM Hudson. “They had nothing to do with this.”
The men holding the scientists hesitated but released their hold.
Kathy rubbed her arms where the grip had been a little tighter than necessary.
“No, we had nothing to do with this,” Greg confirmed.
“Of course not, but what do you think happened?” asked the Prime Minister.
“Someone hacked the inSense equipment,” Kathy answered.
Hudson pointed to Hartland. “That wasn’t caused by a hack.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Kathy replied.
“We think we might know what caused it,” Greg jumped in. “We just don’t know how.”
“Would you care to share?” Hudson scowled at him. She was tired of mysterious half-answers.
“It looks like batrachotoxin,” he replied and, before the PM could raise her eyebrow any further, he added, “It’s a poison found on the backs of certain toads. But we have no idea how it was administered.”
PM Hudson pulled a cell phone from her pocket and entered a code. She directed additional security agents be sent to cover the entrance.
“No one leaves this area without a strip search,” she told them. Her eyes flitted to Kathy and Greg, and she waited impatiently for them to answer her unspoken question.
“Uhh…it would have to be a needle of some sort,” Greg answered. “Not a big one. It would only have to hold a few drops.”
Hudson nodded at her Security Chief, while speaking into the phone. “Look for a needle and syringe, a small one,” she said. “Once everyone’s been searched, come in here and rip this room apart. I want that needle found.” She waved Greg and Kathy forward. “Start with these two.”
Guards escorted the pair to adjacent rooms, conducted a thorough search, and released them into the lobby.
As they sat, waiting for the others to pass through the same demeaning process, they exchanged their thoughts on the assassination.
Do you think it’s possible his death was induced by his lattice and not by poison?—Kathy sent privately to Greg.
I don’t see how that could happen, not in a normal inSense lattice—he replied.
We need to get the coroner to run an MRI as part of the autopsy. That’ll tell us whether Hartland’s lattice had extended into the autonomous nervous system—Kathy suggested.
Causing an induced heart attack or cytokine storm? Yeah, that might do it—Greg knew they were grasping at straws. I can think of a few ways to make that happen. Ruling ourselves out, and not counting Darian and Larry, that leaves one prime candidate for the murder.
The Reverend!—Kathy agreed.
They reviewed the meeting in the lattice archives.
He was behind the security shield inside the conference room. He could have transmitted the whole thing—Greg noted. Do you think he has the capability? I mean, technically, using his lattice?
I didn’t hear a single ping from him, though—Kathy pointed out.
No, me neither—Greg admitted. Could the lattice induction chairs have been compromised before the meeting?
It’s theoretically possible, but I’ve never heard of anyone attempting it. Besides, Security would have to be colluding with the person on several levels.
Mm. Then again, this Alum character doesn’t sound like just anyone.
No kidding. What was that all about, anyway?—Kathy asked.
I don’t know why he’d take such an active role now. The last anyone heard from him, he was happy making prophecies.
Uncannily accurate prophecies—Kathy reminded him.
Sure. Now we know why. He was probably behind the deaths.
At least he appears to be on our side. Sort of.
Well, there is that—Greg allowed. I wouldn’t want to have someone so ruthless against us, in addition to all the passively-resistant political types.
He’s not making us look too good, is he? Not with that kind of brutality. Kathy frowned in distaste.
No. At this rate, I wonder how long it’ll take this group to start accusing us.
Us?—she asked.
Think about it, Kath. We were the only two unaffected by Alum’s attack. Even the Reverend looked like he was captured by the induction plates.
We have to convince them we had nothing to do with it, Greg! What if we could prove the chairs were compromised?
Greg shrugged. Maybe. We need to get some independent experts in here to look for viruses in the chairs’ operating systems.
Agreed. I’ve already put out the call to the people at Neural Nano. Their team should be here in less than an hour. Kathy rubbed Greg’s arm. We’ll figure this out—she reassured him.
Greg sighed. I can’t think of anything we can do before they get here and coordinate with the police. We’re gonna have to leave this in their hands until they call on us.
Kathy shared his sigh. I’m sure the international agencies and every police force of every country that sent a delegate will be hell-bent on tracking down Alum in short order.
She exhaled a short sharp breath, almost a laugh. I’m not even sure who to root for. The man might have just saved our entire species by forcing agreement across the board. Face it; we never could have done it ourselves, not even with the PM’s help.
Yeah, but is it going to hold, or will he be back to enforce it? I have to tell you, that guy really scares the crap out of me. And from the sounds of it, I don’t think he’s done with us yet.
Me, neither—Kathy said, and grimaced. I’m pretty sure that’s one thing we can count on.
* * *
A host of police and security officials jostled for control of the room. Photos were taken. Officers and experts came and went. The meeting room was sealed off with bright yellow tape proclaiming the area a crime scene, and a fresh security team was installed at the door, deflecting questions and barring re-entrance.
The attendees gathered in the lobby. They spent the first half hour conferring with their people while officers took their statements. They were not a happy group.
Yet, every time someone thought to raise an objection to Greg and Kathy’s proposal, the fear in their comrades’ eyes quickly overruled and hushed any dissent.
Greg and Kathy had to pretend they knew nothing of the change in attitude toward their ideas.
People shot suspicious glances at the two Pacifica scientists, and encouraged others to stick to the proposal. They would find this Alum who threatened to hold the world hostage. In the meantime, they would give every appearance of cooperation to prevent further deaths. They would do so slowly, though, without making any overly large commitments unless absolutely necessary.
A shaken Reverend LaMontagne made his way into a chair near the edge of the lobby. A group of advisers, equally distraught, sat silently near him. The Reverend had already informed the New Confederacy President, who had promptly sent his own team to investigate.
“Are you okay, sir?” Greg approached the delegation from the New Confederacy.
LaMontagne looked up. “Yes, thank you,” he replied. “Still in a bit of shock, I think. I’ll be alright. It may take a bit longer before our nation can recover from this horrible tragedy. Virgil Hartland was a good man and a loyal friend.”
Greg doubted that but kept the opinion to himself. He nodded vaguely.
“I hate to appear opportunistic, but has President Mitchell said anything about the proposal?”
The Reverend regarded him with mixed emotions. “How could I recommend otherwise at this point? It seems that this Alum, whoever he is, is holding a g
un to our heads and demanding compliance.”
Greg feigned surprise. “I didn’t think people were regarding the proposal positively. Alum must have been very convincing.”
LaMontagne scowled. “Convincing? I don’t know. But he got a response, alright. The President is furious. Hell, everyone is furious. Leaders do not like having their hands forced, especially not at a personal level.
“President Mitchell has to deliver the standard official response: ‘We don’t negotiate with terrorists.’ But, for the record, I was already in favor of your proposal. I believe it can be pulled off. The whole scenario is daunting and terrifying to imagine, but I truly believe it is necessary for the salvation of mankind, and I told the President so. Once he calmed down, he was able to see the wisdom of it. You can count on us to support Project Vesta to the best of our abilities.”
Prime Minister Hudson made her way to Greg’s side, with Kathy alongside. “Well, it seems we have broad agreement to comply. For the most part, it was given reluctantly.
“You should be aware that even those who were already inclined to agree with your proposal did not react positively to Alum’s coercion. They’re determined to get out from under it. Nevertheless, they will study your ideas in detail and prepare enabling legislation. I hope their resentment doesn’t get in the way of efficient completion of their tasks. We have so little time as it is.
“We’ll meet again in three months. At that time, we’ll either have Alum in our hands or we’ll move forward.”
“We’re deeply sorry that the meeting was so violently hijacked, Madam Prime Minister,” said Kathy.
The PM didn’t bother to make eye contact to address her. “Yes, that was most unfortunate. So long as you two had nothing to do with it, we can put it all behind us for the moment. Let’s concentrate on what we need to do to move Project Vesta forward.”
“I can assure you, Ms. Hudson, we were in no way involved in this; we know nothing about any of it,” Greg said stiffly. “We have our suspicions about how the murder may have been carried out, and we will cooperate fully with the police during the investigation.”
The PM regarded Greg with icy detachment. “That will have to suffice for now. Arrange with the PMO to see me sometime next week. We’ll assess some of your specific proposals, and see if we can’t make it more comprehensible to us mere mortals. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some more nerves to calm.” She strode off across the lobby.