by Wesley Chu
Levin took a deep breath. “The agency has been compromised. I have the evidence in my personal stores, which should be archived. I need a direct access link to un-encrypt and retrieve my files. I intend to expose the corruption within the agency, and then I intend to put ChronoCom back to its original noble purpose.”
“And you want me to help you do it?” Vaneek looked at his girlfriend and then at the mess within the room. “After what just happened?”
“This is important, son.”
The young administrator shook his head. “You’re asking me to commit treason without so much as an explanation. You have to tell me what’s going on and then leave. I will contact you through a comm sub-channel within a day if I decide to help.”
“Vaneek, I’m running out of—”
“That’s my offer, Auditor. Think of the position you’re putting me in. If you really are the man I admire, then you’ll accept my terms. You owe me that much.”
That was true. Levin was basically asking Vaneek to make himself a possible fugitive and betray all that he believed in. That idiot Cole hadn’t made things any easier by coming in like that. Levin walked to the shelf and pulled down a bottle of synthetic wine. He picked out three tins, placed them on the table in front of them, and poured drinks. He raised the tin and took a sip. “Let me start from the beginning.”
FORTY-EIGHT
A TRAITOR
Senior Securitate Kuo looked out the port window of the Valkyrie as it descended through the smog clouds hanging over Chicago. Her irritation grew as Earth Central came into sight. The director had the audacity to order her to personally oversee and “discuss” her latest reinforcement and supply acquisition. This must mean he was finally giving her the monitors she had repeatedly asked for. Why else would he summon her here, just to talk?
Her ship made a narrow circle around the building until it hovered fifty meters above the facility’s landing pad. Kuo opened the doors and jumped out, plummeting fifty meters and landing on the hard concrete with a crash. Best to get this charade over with. Things were falling apart on the Mist Isle, and she had to get back as soon as possible.
She noticed the hundreds of eyes on her as all activity around the hangar stopped. This was the exact place she had fought Auditor Levin almost a year back. The taste of that defeat was still fresh in her mind. She looked around. Chances were, several of these lowly workers had been there then. Probably some of them had even shot at her. That memory burned. The fact that Levin had twisted the justice system so that they had all escaped still rankled her.
There was a Hephaestus transport in one of the docking bays being loaded with supplies. Lead Moyer was standing near the cargo bay overseeing the transfer. He saw Kuo approach and hurried to meet her.
Moyer bowed. “Greetings, Securitate, it’s an honor and pleasure to see you, as always.” She knew what the monitor ranks thought of her. The lead monitor must want a job at Valta.
“My supplies,” she said briskly. “Any issues?”
He looked over his manifest. “Everything as requested, except for ration counts, of which we were only able to requisition ninety percent, rad shields at eighty-six percent, and blaster recharges at seventy-nine. Nothing we can’t fulfill next week.”
Kuo admit to being a little surprised. That was actually good, all things considered. “And the five hundred Valta troopers?”
“They arrived last night and are ready to depart with you.”
“Excellent, Lead Moyer. What about my request for the five hundred additional monitors?”
Moyer hesitated. “Apologies, Securitate, but—”
“Cut to the chase, Lead. How many am I actually getting?”
“None. Again, director’s orders.”
“What?”
Moyer bowed. “I’m sorry, Securitate, but the director has put a hold on your request.”
“We’ll see about that,” she spat. “Make sure everything is ready to depart when I am.”
She left Moyer standing on the hangar deck while she went to find the old cripple. The nonprofits in the building scurried out of her way as she stormed through the administrator wing. The old man had been fighting her every step of the way. Now, at such a crucial moment, Young had summoned her just to hamstring her. How dare he!
Kuo reached the entrance to his office, created a large white kinetic trunk, and punched in the double doors. She split the trunk into two smaller ones—not an easy feat for space combat exos—and held the larger splintered fragments hovering in the air. She walked through the entrance, past the floating pieces, into Director Young’s office.
Young was sitting at his desk reading a leather-bound book. He barely glanced up at her display of force. She had to give the old man credit; he wasn’t easily intimidated. She stormed in front of his desk and waited. And then waited some more. She realized her tactical error when he licked his finger and turned the page.
“Did you recall me from the front just to deny—”
He held up a finger and shushed her. To her surprise, she stopped. Then, with a furious scowl, she placed her hand on his desk and powered her exo. The desk cracked down the middle and collapsed into two pieces.
Young lowered the book and stared at her handiwork. He closed the book with a slap and sighed. “That was wood. Real fucking wood. Do you know how hard it is to find an honest-to-abyss wooden desk these days? At least one that isn’t moldy, full of termites, or covered in that fake plasti-wood shit they try to pass off as the real thing?”
“You call me back to Earth Central just to refuse my order for additional monitors,” she growled. “Let me make myself clear, Director. My request is not a request.”
“I denied it just like I denied your psychopathic request to grayon-gas all of the Mist Isle. There’s a million people living there. Just because you’re losing doesn’t mean you get to kill everyone.” Young rubbed his chin. “How are you losing to a bunch of wastelanders, anyway?”
Kuo balled her hands into fists. She shouldn’t have to answer to him. However, he had what she needed. “The primitives got organized. They’ve risen up and are working together. My forces are outnumbered twenty to one. There are savages actually flocking to the Mist Isle in droves to volunteer to fight us. I need additional resources!”
“So it’s true,” Young mused. “The mining operations east of Neo-Pittsburgh have been reporting large migrations of wastelander tribes.” He chuckled. “Congratulations, Securitate. You’ve managed to unite tribes that have been at war for two hundred years. Within the span of a few months. That’s no small feat.”
“All the more reason to get out of my way. A new organized nation of savages will be dangerous to ChronoCom’s control of this planet.”
Young put his book aside and got out of his chair. He made a slow circle around his broken desk and faced her, his mangled shoulder drooping badly as he stood in front of her. “What did you think was going to fucking happen when you begin wholesale murdering and enslaving them? Did you think just because you’re in your goddamn white shiny suits that they were going to roll over and huddle in the mud while you blew up their homes?”
“How dare you? ChronoCom’s contract with Valta—”
“—is being honored,” he snapped. “That doesn’t mean we’ll allow you to misuse our resources, and it sure as hell doesn’t mean I’m going to allow you to gas the damn island! Whatever happened to taking that scientist, anyway? I thought she was a desired asset. How are grayon gas and genocide going to get you any closer to acquiring her?”
“That is only as a last resort,” she said stiffly. “If Valta is unable to acquire the resource, it sets a poor precedent for others.”
“By killing the hundreds of thousands of people who live there,” he mused. “You’re setting some sort of precedent, all right. In either case, ChronoCom is denying your request for another five hundred monitors at this time and we sure as abyss deny you the use of weapons of mass destruction on Earth. Make do with what y
ou have or get the fuck off the planet.”
Kuo’s exo flared and surrounded the old man. For a second, she considered ending the old short-sighted cripple’s life. Life for the megacorporation employees near the gas giants was harsh. Survival and success were all about aggression and respect. An employee of Valta must wield both in order not only to climb the corporate ladder, but to survive, because there were always people beneath you who wanted your position. Sometimes, in interoffice politics, it was considered acceptable, even approved by leadership, to kill someone.
She could even argue that it was justified. Young was actively and purposely impeding a critical Valta project. There would be problems, however. Young wasn’t without rank and stature not only within his agency but with all the major corporations. The director of Earth’s time-salvaging operation carried weight and influence.
Interestingly, Young seemed undeterred. “Give it your best shot,” he said, resigned. “I’ve bent over backward for you enough. I draw the line at mass murder.”
“You fool,” she spat. “Protecting those who do not contribute to humanity’s survival is betraying your oath to your agency. I’ll see you hanged for this.”
There was a knock on the door.
“What!” both of them growled, turning to look at the terrified administrator standing at the door.
“Apologies, Director. Securitate.” The administrator bowed several times. “Interrogation room three is ready, Director.”
“Come with me, Kuo.” Young said, limping out the door and not bothering to look if she was following.
Kuo was not used to following orders outside of headquarters and for a moment considered refusing. Valta was the superior partner in this relationship. To allow a ChronoCom entity the lead lowered her position. However, her curiosity was piqued.
For a moment, she thought they might have captured the one named James Griffin-Mars. Perhaps he had tired of living in the wastes among the savages and turned himself in. A life in Europa in exchange for the scientist was a worthy trade, though chances were, he would have to be taken out shortly after he reached the moon. Europa was a paradise, but like all stable colonies, it had to be tightly managed. An ex-chronman with a history of disorder couldn’t be tolerated.
The two walked out of Young’s office in the administrator wing and headed to the lower levels. The director walked painfully slowly, though he could hardly be blamed. In the gas giant colonies, unless he was incredibly wealthy or a person of importance, he would have long been put away or forced into a special needs center. Resources were low enough as it was without having to deal with cripples.
To her surprise, Liaison Sourn joined them on the way down. She hadn’t even known he was here. The liaison had taken ill during his extended stay on Earth and now preferred to spend his time in off-world hostels, floating white ships that catered only to corporate citizens. Those giant vessels duplicated the comforts of the colonies, providing the clean air, sterile environments, and controlled atmospheres that the civilized world was used to up in space.
“What a pleasant surprise, Liaison,” she exclaimed.
“Securitate,” he replied with a cool look on his face.
Kuo knew he was angry with her. The past three reports she had filed with him had betrayed an increasingly grim scenario. He had every right to disapprove of her recent performance. He knew her declining status reflected poorly upon him, and unless she could make a proper turnaround soon, both their stocks within the company were bound to suffer. Coupled with her request for grayon gas, which was essentially her ceding project goals, there was little way either of them could report anything positive to the board of directors.
Sourn turned to Young. “I told you to only summon me if it was important. This had better be good.” The relationship between the liaison and the director must have soured as well. Young didn’t look like he cared, though. Of the three, he seemed to be the only one in a good mood.
They reached the interrogation rooms, and Kuo was brought back to the last time she had been here. She had been in that room on the far end getting the answers she needed from the sniveling handler. Then the High Auditor had stepped in and ruined everything. Her humiliating defeat at the hands of these nonprofits forced her to beg management to permit her to redeem herself by finding this scientist. Now, she was facing another defeat.
The three of them walked into the interrogation room where a metal chair, table, and a young man waited for them. She didn’t recognize him; it was neither James Griffin-Mars nor Levin Javier-Oberon. Pity. That would have solved many of her problems. The young man eyed all three of them warily, but his posture was relaxed. He believed he had the upper hand, or at least something to offer or sell. There were no bruises or cuts on his body, and he seemed alert. Good. They hadn’t started questioning yet. Kuo preferred to oversee these tasks personally.
“Who is he and why should I care?” Sourn said.
“Tell them what you told me earlier,” said Young.
“There’s a conspiracy to overthrow the agency, Director. I can get you the traitors,” the man said. “Former high auditor Levin came to me—”
“That’s internal ChronoCom matters,” Young cut in. “Get to the other information.”
The young man nodded and turned to Kuo. “I can tell you exactly where in the Mist Isle the temporal anomaly, the one who is also responsible for the wasteland tribes unifying, is located.” He looked over at Young, who nodded. “In return I want Europa citizenship and a guaranteed position in the private sector.”
Kuo was suddenly alert. If she had that information, the Co-op could stop slogging through the maze of buildings. She could end this blasted project within a day. “Agreed,” she called up a map of the Mist Isle through her AI module and projected it onto the table through her eyes. “You’ll be richly rewarded if your information is correct. Now, out with it.”
The man pointed at an intersection near the central lower region of Manhattan. “This building right there. Right there is the heart of the savages.”
Young leaned in to her. “Now you can have the extra monitors you requested. Do your job, Securitate.”
FORTY-NINE
LOVE AND WAR
Elise had always been a power-to-the-people kind of girl when it came to government. In her university days, she had protested the rise of dolphin hunting and the dissolution of the Democratic Union’s congress. At the time, suspending the people’s voice was controversial, and might have even been necessary. The Confederate United States, a newly formed fundamentalist theocracy, had dug in its claws and corrupted the congress, gridlocking the entire country.
Still, the thought that her beloved country was no longer being ruled by the people drove her to march in the streets along with millions of others. The first few months of the Manhattan alliance, Elise had tried to instill this same democratic spirit into her young nation. Right now though, she wanted nothing more than to rule with an iron fist.
She had a stinging headache from the twenty largest tribal chiefs, mayors, teachers, kings, or whatever the Gaia they called themselves arguing over their next plan of action. The Manhattans had won a string of small victories over the past few weeks, having caught the Co-op completely by surprise. However, their enemy had readjusted its strategy and now the blocks between Forty-seventh and Seventy-fifth streets had become a neutral zone of sorts as the two sides fell into a stalemate. What her fledgling nation had to do right now was bring more tribes into the fold and push the enemy back. Instead, more often of late, these meetings had dissolved into bickering about who got what buildings to live in and which tribe got how much of their shared resources.
Right now, six of the tribes were arguing over which of them were going to receive Levin’s latest salvage of phase pistols from the twenty-fourth century. Elise had to carefully distribute the equipment among them. Every group had a convincing argument for why they needed the racks of forty weapons the most. The salvages were a large part of their re
cent success and an even larger part of why many of the tribes had originally agreed to join the nation. Whether they remained if the salvages dried up was up to her. The Nation’s unity was unraveling slowly, because their early success had quelled the desperation of many of the tribes. Now, they were forgetting why they had all agreed to work together in the first place.
Elise looked to either side, and it told her all she needed to know about how important this meeting was. To her left, Titus was busy jotting down a complex math equation. The old man had been obsessing over ways to build a new array of solar panels on the very tops of the tallest buildings and route them to the Manhattan Nation’s grid. The current output, due to the constant heavy fog, was a fraction of what they needed. Elise’s lab itself took up nearly 10 percent of what was available.
To her right, Grace was leaning into Teacher Crowe, chatting with her head close to his. The High Scion had taken a shine to Crowe and the two had been seen together more often than not. When Crowe found out who she actually was, he had nearly prostrated himself before her as if she were a religious figure. Typical ex-chronman. For a bunch of people who hated their previous jobs, they all seemed to think very highly of the woman who created the industry.
That was all fine by Elise. The two old lovebirds were cute together. The teacher was fifteen years younger than Grace, but that was how she liked her men. Better have her focus her affections on Crowe than James, anyway. However, if the two smartest people in the room were completely ignoring the conversation, it probably wasn’t worth listening to.
Elise’s personal life wasn’t going much better than her leadership role. That was something she never thought she’d hear herself say. Elise had gone to visit James every day, though had stayed outside his residence. She passed the time sitting next to his door, eyes closed and listening. She sometimes could hear him bumble around in his room, sometimes crying, sometimes snoring, usually just nothing. He probably didn’t know she was there and was upset that she hadn’t visited him yet. It made her feel better to know that she was close.