by Dan Haronian
Naan wrinkled his forehead and Itgass continued. "Scrambling, for example, is it not considered an art on Naan?"
Naan looked at him for few seconds before responding. "Yet there are murderers in Mampas who take their skills very seriously. Am I to conclude from this that Mampas supports murder?"
"Still, many Naanites have scrambling capabilities that neither we nor the Desertians have here."
Naan nodded. He understood where Itgass was going. "I understand you're familiar with what's going on Naan. Can I also assume that you know what's been going on there since the recent events on Mampas? Are you aware of our efforts to cure this disease?"
"I am aware of what you are doing, but you haven't cured it yet, and I'm just wondering if your failure to control scrambling there has something to do with what's going on here."
Naan sighed. "Except for the City of the Chosen, the disease of scrambling is no more widespread on Naan than the disease is here. The City of the Chosen has been untouched before now. If you learn our history you will realize how complicated things are. That is changing now. We are finally in control there. It is a major progress."
"Yes, I heard," said Itgass. "But I am not so sure this city is the only problem. What about you?"
"Me?"
"How good are your scrambling skills?"
Naan smiled. "I guess in light of the circumstances that is a fair question." His smile disappeared. "I would guess that my skills are no better than yours. Can you scramble information in Seragon?"
"No, but I am not so sure about you," said Itgass, "The genetic reader identified you. Can you explain that?"
"The reader was scrambled," said Naan immediately, as if it was obvious.
"No it wasn't. Your blood sample was actually there."
"My blood sample? Of course my blood sample was there. It's my embassy. The reader takes a sample every time I enter."
"Are you implying that someone used an old sample?"
Naan raised his hands. "It's a possibility."
Itgass shook his head. "The reader samples the blood samples and destroys it seconds after it is used. If I'm not mistaken there is a heat pulse that vaporizes the sample even before the doors open."
Naan shrugged his shoulders. "Even this heat pulse needs a command. I'm no expert but I think a skilled scrambler could make the system skip a few steps and save one of my samples."
Itgass nodded. He hadn’t thought of this option.
"I have been digging into the mechanics of the palm reader as well," continued Naan. "It reads the genes of the father's side. As you know my father came from Seragon. There are very few people with Seragonian blood in Mampas and we have been checking them all." He thought for a moment. "I doubt the answer will emerge from this survey though. What are the chances that there is someone walking around Mampas with Seragonian blood that is an expert scrambler, and hates the Desertian this much?"
"So what do you think? How can you explain what has happened here, in your embassy?"
Naan shook his head. "Clearly this stutterer is a very skilled scrambler." He paused for a second before continuing. "As you said, the Desertians do not excel in scrambling and therefore I can only conclude he was trained by an expert. People like Raban from the City of the Chosen. I am sure we all will get to the bottom of this once you get your hands on him."
Itgass scratched his head. Naan had elegantly shifted the responsibility back to him. He hurried to make Naan the center of the discussion. "You know we could've eliminated many possibilities if we had assumed there were two people involved," he said.
"Two people?" wondered Naan.
"Yes, one with a key to the embassy and one with a key to the network."
"I guess it's possible." Naan nodded his head thinking about this idea. "It makes sense, but if so why go to the trouble of getting locked up in the detention center? Why take the risk? After all he was actually there. The guards and the prisoners talked about his scars and his stutter."
"I don't know," said Itgass. "Maybe it was part of the cover story. Maybe they made sure everything looked real. They could have even made sure the old man was there in the middle of the night to see the stutterer."
Naan raised his hands in despair. "I don't see the logic in all this."
"The blood sample was real, there are no signs of breaking in, not in the network and not in the system itself. What else is there to prove?"
"The motive," said Naan. "And besides, if it was me, why do it from the embassy? Do you really think I would bring someone into the embassy to scramble information, only to incriminate myself? Does this make any sense?"
"As I said, it might have been part of your cover," said Itgass, but he felt he was losing control over the discussion.
"Cover for what? If this thing had been traced back to one of the information centers in Mampas, no one would ever have tied it to me."
Itgass tried to conceal a sigh. Naan senses were sharp though and he noticed it. "I have a question for you."
"Yes," said Itgass trying to figure out what line of thinking he should adopt to regain his advantage.
"What would you do if information that could end Mampas’ problems somehow fell into your hands?"
Itgass gazed at him. "I guess I would use it, but hearing this from you…" He stared at Naan. "Aren't you incriminating yourself by admitting to having such thoughts?"
"I’m not admitting to anything. You know I have nothing to do with this. I just want you to think about the important facts in this story. They also need attention."
"You want me to use this information against the Desertians? You want me to destroy them?"
"I don't want anything. As Thesh said, this information was in the network long enough for anyone to get their hands on it." He leaned forward. "If someone used that information in the right way they might gain glory that only few receive."
"Clearly it is an opportunity," said Itgass. "But Seragon is on their way over. There is a good chance that the final result of using the information might be the exact opposite."
Naan leaned back. "I suppose you are talking about the future of Mampas. You are afraid that Seragon will leave behind only scorched ground."
"Aren't you?"
"Yes I am, but that has nothing to do with the stolen information."
"I don't understand what are you saying?"
"I am saying that once this information is exposed the Desertians are doomed. Seragon can do whatever they want but not even they can stop the inevitable."
Itgass looked at him his eyes wide.
"Don't look so surprised. Sometimes you need to take drastic action to change things. That is what I am doing right now on Naan. Something like this is not simple. But sometimes the chance to make a change falls into your lap and all you need to do is to take the advantage and use it."
"And you think someone will take this chance."
"The information is out there. This molecule. If not today, then tomorrow, if not tomorrow the day after. Tick, tick, tick. The clock is ticking forward and one day someone will act." Naan leaned forward. "The only question," he whispered, "is who will take the credit for it."
Later that day, as Dion was about to set, Naan walked into Thesh’s office. He looked at ease as he entered but was immediately thrown off by the lack of welcome in their faces. There was a new message from Seragon on the screen and it caught Naan's eye. He studied it for a few seconds and the expression on his face shifted from ease to complete surprise.
We are aware that you have begun manufacturing the compound defined by the stolen information. This only proves that you were feigning innocence and lying about your government’s involvement. War shuttles are on their way. They will arrive in the neutral zone in three Mampasian days.
When this message had appeared on Thesh's screen he’d felt like a pilot losing control of his hovercraft with the ground rushing towards him. To his surprise he didn't get mad or lose his temper. It was as if he’d accepted his fate. Thesh gazed
at it in shock and wondered how things could possibly have reached this stage.
He wished that someone would suddenly open the door of his private bathroom to his left, and congratulate him for going along with their prank for so long. It was possible, he thought. These were only messages. Nothing had really happened yet. He gazed longingly at the private bathroom to his right, but the door stayed closed. No one jumped out.
Then he thought of the rebel scrambler, Sonny. He’d never seen his picture, but a scarred and twisted face haunted his dreams. He imagined his lips vibrating when he stuttered. The messages on the screen might be only messages, but that man was real. Thesh continued to stare at the screen for a few seconds longer. Then something strange happened. The imagined face of the scrambler morphed slowly into the face of Naan. Naan, with his short legs jumped around in front of him like a clown until his white face became red with the effort. The vision was so preposterous, that he shook it immediately from his head.
Naan looked back and forth between Thesh and Itgass.
"Is this real?" he asked.
"You act as though you are surprised." said Thesh. Naan’s involvement made no sense to Thesh, yet he suspected him. Only the diminutive ambassador could concoct something so crazy. Had Naan’s well-known ambition overwhelmed his wits? He’d come from an insignificant planet that had been barely settled thirty years ago. Maybe he was looking for something bigger. Plus this whole mess had started in his embassy building. Naan had told him over and over again how diligently he was fighting the scramblers back on his home planet, but was any of it real? It was possible the whole thing was a scam.
"But Itgass, this is exactly what I told you this morning," said Naan looking at Itgass.
"Exactly, and this order came from your embassy."
Thesh quickly surfed and the message from Seragon was replaced by the request to Chemical Labs of Mampas. "It was sent from the same terminal used to break into Seragon’s system," he said.
"The lab told us the order has been in their system for more than two weeks," said Itgass. "I guess it's not that complicated for a skilled scrambler to play with the dates."
Naan's faced turned red. "Anyone who could break into the embassy without leaving a trace, or scramble information in Seragon, could send the information anywhere they wanted and put any date tag on it."
"And who you think did this?" asked Thesh. "Do you have any idea? They are sending war shuttles. In a few days a swarm of war hovercrafts will be arriving."
"You know this stutterer was there," Said Naan. "The man from the archive identified him even before the whole story broke. He didn't know this guy even existed before then." He paused and took a deep breath. "What other proof do you need? How can you have any doubt who is involved? Had you killed him in the desert instead of trying to bring him to Mampas none of this would have happened."
"What motive does he have?" asked Itgass.
"And what motive do I have?" countered Naan.
"Do you want a list?” asked Itgass.
Naan raised his hands and let them fall.
"What are you proposing I tell Seragon?” asked Thesh angrily. "That this rebel, who has twice survived our attempts to eliminate him, stole the information from them and now is also having one of our factories produce it? And he is doing all of this for what? Is he instigating a mass suicide of his own people? Does this sound logical to you?"
"This is a conspiracy," said Naan.
"It cannot be the rebel," shouted Thesh.
Naan paced the room in agitation. He raised his hands as if he was praying for something.
"Does Daio know about this?" asked Thesh suddenly.
Naan lowered his hands and turned to look at him. He shook his head fast as if he was saying “No, anything but that!”
"You’d better tell him. The delegation will be here tomorrow and we can no longer keep this visit a secret."
"What do you expect him to do?"
"It happened in his embassy. He needs to know."
"What are you planning to tell Seragon?" asked Itgass.
Thesh rubbed his chin. "I'm calling an emergency session of the ministers. I need to let them know what's going on. Hopefully together we can figure out a way to handle them. You better head over to this lab. A small sample of the compound was already manufactured. Make sure they destroy it."
I wore a wide brimmed hat that covered most of my face. May-Thor cut her long hair and wore a loose, colorful shirt that gave her the look of one of the feeble-minded Desertians common in the streets of Mampas.
Dion had started to set when we walked into the information center. May-Thor trailed some distance behind me. I was already sitting in front of a terminal when she reached the door. From the corner of my eye I saw her enter.
She sat down at one of the terminals behind me. When my screen started to flicker she stood up, adjusted her shirt and scanned the information center.
My surfing took only seconds. I entered the government network and after reading the messages from Seragon I cleared my tracks and removed the neck sensor.
I stepped outside and through the window I saw May-Thor walking up to the big screen to the left of the terminals. She watched a report on the screen then left the information center and met me further down the street.
"They’ve sent a de-de-delegation and war sh-sh-shuttles," I said. I gave her a quick look. I wanted to see her face. With a tremble in my voice that the stutter could not hide I said, "Se-Se-Seragon is coming."
"When?"
"The delegation will arrive early to-to-tomorrow morning and the A-A-Army in two days."
"What about the information? How do we make sure they don't use it before then?"
I pushed my hat down lower on my head. "They a-a-a. They a-a-already have," I said.
She froze. I took two more steps before stopping. I turned and walked back to her. "Do-Do-Don't make a scene. Yo-Yo-You're attracting a-a-attention," I said almost whispering. I pulled on her arm and she started to walk again. She stumbled along as if she’d suddenly lost all her strength.
"They produced it?" she asked in a whisper.
"Do-Do-Don't worry, no-no-nothing will ha-ha-happen."
"Nothing will happen?! How do you know nothing will happen?" she hissed and stopped again.
I took her arm again and pulled her forward.
"How did this happen? And don't tell me it was part of your plans."
"I told you that we are a-a-attracting a-a-attention. Don't stop."
"How did this happen?"
"Naan, Naan s-s-sent it to a lab."
"Naan, your cousin?"
I nodded.
"Why?"
"I don't k-k-k-know."
"You don't know? You should know! This was your plan! You cannot not know," she said, as her voice gradually increased.
I clung to her. "Please don't raise your vo-vo-voice."
Three Flyeyes buzzed low over the street.
"Let go of my hand," she whispered and pulled her arm away when the Flyeyes disappeared.
"The-The-Thesh already knows, It-It-Itgass knows too. They know what will ha-ha-happen if they use this in-in-information."
"If they use? They already have," she almost shouted.
"Keep your vo-vo-voice down," I whispered and looked around. "The co-co-compound will never reach the de-de-desert. Seragon is close and The-The-Thesh is not stupid."
"Our lives now depend on Thesh not being stupid? He has wiped out several of our bases in the desert. He has killed hundreds of our people and your trust his judgment? I'm not sure about Thesh, but you are fool."
She walked over to a shop window, breathing hard. "What if this thing doesn't need to reach the desert to destroy us? What if it's enough to scatter it here in Mampas and let the wind do the rest? We have to do something. We must tell Gu-Dos. The rebels will do something to stop this."
"They were about to h-h-hand us over to the Ma-Ma-Mampasians," I said.
"We are not the issue no
w. They must know and they will act if they want to live." She started to walk away quickly and I followed. "We must tell them," she mumbled to herself. "This could wipe us all out.”
She shook her head and suddenly slowed down. "It's pointless. The formula is already in Thesh’s hands. It's all up to him. This crisis will eventually end, Seragon will leave and the information can be duplicated."
Clearly, I knew this was how things would turn out, but I couldn't tell her that. She would've killed me on the spot.
"I hate you," she said when she stopped.
"I can i-i-imagine," I said.
Tears welled in her eyes. It hurt to make her sad again, but I couldn’t tell her the truth. We should split up," I said. "Go and find your people and I'll go to this lab."
"Why? Do you want to steal it? Maybe you want to scatter it yourself?"
"Stop talking no-no-nonsense."
"Talking nonsense? Why is that nonsense? You stole this information, your cousin manufactured this poison, and now all that remains is to scatter it."
"I'm going to de-de-destroy it. It will increase Seragon’s time wi-wi-window."
She shrugged her shoulders.
"I think-"
"Don't think. You're not good at that," she said and started to walk away down the street.
"I felt ex-ex-ex-exhilarated after fi-fi-finishing my shuttle plans," I said when I caught up to her. "But after starting to s-s-spend the money I felt stressed. Su-Su-Suddenly I wasn't sure the whole thing would work."
"I don't understand what you're talking about and I don't care."
"It's e-e-easy to plan, b-b-but it's h-h-hard to follow through, even when everything goes a-a-according to your plan."
"What plan? How long did it take from the moment the information reached your cousin until it was manufactured? What plan are you talking about? And your damn shuttle, as I remember it, was blown to pieces."
"We said this scrambling wo-wo-would bring Seragon and they're coming. T-T-Take a deep breath. We need to be pa-pa-patient."
"We are falling from a cliff and the last breath is the one just before we smash into the ground," she said, and looked at the road. She stepped over to the edge of the sidewalk and waved her hand.