2 Change in Management

by RJ Johnson

  He gingerly tested his arms and legs, feeling them out to see if they still worked. While it felt like the majority of his body had survived, the pain he was in was intense. He opened his eyes and winced in pain from the bright light that was shining down on him. For a moment, Meade was certain he was alone, that is, until he heard a voice speak up.

  “He’s awake.”

  The voice floated to him from across the room. Meade shook his head and stared into the inky darkness beyond what was illuminated by the lamp hanging overhead, but saw nothing. His head was killing him.

  “You’re a fascinating case Mr. Meade.”

  Meade looked around again for the source of the voice. Finding none, he was about to ask where he was but was interrupted by a violent coughing spell. He knew he had to have broken at least three ribs by the way his ribcage felt.

  “Tut tut Mr. Meade. You should take it easy while you can. You’ve broken more bones than I thought a man like you could handle.”

  “Let me go, I’ll help break a few more of your bones to let you experience it for yourself.”

  A low chuckle from the other end of the room. His mysterious host was obviously in no hurry.

  “I think you vastly underestimate your abilities Mr. Meade.”

  “It’s not as bad other people’s habit of underestimating me.”

  Corcoran emerged from the shadows while William Hugh stood near her. She looked at Meade and after looking him up and down, deemed that he was no threat to her. She turned to Hugh who stiffened to attention when he noticed she was looking at him.

  “Mr. Hugh, please see to the arrangements I’ve made for Mr. Meade.”

  “At once Madam,” Hugh bowed politely and exited the room. Meade heard a door open and then close. Corcoran smiled and looked down at him.

  “Finally alone.”

  “Not counting our time in the limo.”

  “Oh, there was always someone watching me, and you for that matter.” Corcoran said lazily. She circled Meade and he refused to look at her, staring straight ahead. He didn’t react to her touch, if Corcoran wanted to kill him, she would have done it already.

  “Must be difficult to always be under someone’s thumb.”

  Corcoran laughed and it was not the musical sound Meade had heard in any of the thousands of public interviews she had given. This was genuine, as if Meade had actually managed to take her by surprise.

  “I am sorry, I do not mean to laugh at you.” Corcoran smiled and she stroked the nape of Meade’s neck, wiping away the sweat that had collected there. “Given the circumstances, I merely found it humorous to think that anyone could ever have me under their thumb.”

  “That’s the power of Cassandra huh?” Meade figured he had one shot to take the Ambassador off guard. Whatever else they had discovered, Meade still didn’t know what Cassandra was, and hopefully he could provoke Corcoran into revealing something.

  “Cassandra…” Corcoran’s smile broadened. “You are a clever one aren’t you Mr. Meade?”

  “Clever is what pays the bills.”

  “And I respect you for that Mr. Meade. That’s why this is so difficult for me. I’d like to think that were things different, I might have been able to convince you to come work for me.”

  “I’m not a fan.”

  “I know…” Corcoran swooned and smiled lovingly down at him, “it’s why you made the perfect variable for Cassandra.”

  Meade became stone faced. Variable? What the hell was she talking about?

  A realization slowly spread across Corcoran’s face and this time she really began to laugh. “You smug little bastard. You had me thinking you actually decoded everything on that ArmBar image. You have no idea what Cassandra is, do you?”

  “I know one thing,” Meade said, evading his eyes. “I know someone made it their mission to kill you.”

  “Laszlo and his lame little plot?” she smiled. “Who do you think initiated the whole thing to begin with?”

  Meade was struck dumb.

  Corcoran sighed and pulled a chair up in front of Meade who was still restrained.

  “I shouldn’t tell you this, but I think as a reward for being such an excellent little rat in my maze, you deserve to know what your part was in this little play I’m putting on.”

  She stepped closer, standing within inches of his nose, examining him as if he were some fascinating species of insect. “It’s not as if you’ll be telling anyone else after all this is through anyway.”

  “I wouldn’t count me out just yet,” he shot back.

  She laughed at his confidence before withdrawing FN Five Seven pistol from her waistband, examining it closely.

  “Such a primitive weapon, I’m surprised at you Mr. Meade.”

  “My granddad always said that classics never go out of style,” Meade quipped.

  Her Cheshire cat smile only disappeared for an instant, but Meade had seen it. He knew he was getting under her skin. His guess was that she wanted to prove to him how smart she was and the more he projected his disdain, the worse she would want to prove herself to him. Hopefully his strategy of snark would serve to keep him alive longer than he otherwise might have.

  She leaned forward and placed her face inches from his, looking deep into his eyes. Meade heard the click of a knife opening up, and then the snip of his bonds being released. He never looked away from the Ambassador, acutely aware of the fact that his own gun was currently being pointed at his gut.

  “Follow me Mr. Meade, I think you deserve to see this before your stay in Enzeli.”

  She stepped back and motioned for Meade to follow her. He stood, his knees still shaky from being tied up for so long. He moved his way through the dark room when a door opened. The light from the adjoining room was too bright for him to make out any details, but it was clear from the nudge in his back from the barrel of his pistol that the exit was his destination.

  “I regret the fact I will not have a use for you any longer after tonight,” Corcoran said. They walked slowly towards the open door. “The problem is that once you solve for the variable, it must be taken out of the equation.”

  “Why do you keep referring to me as a ‘variable?’” Meade asked, “I’m a fairly bright soul, and I’ve spent my share of time at the EdCenter, but math was never my strong suit.”

  “Oh, Mr. Meade…” Corcoran clucked her tongue sympathetically towards him. “You poor unfortunate soul. Math is what brings the universe alive. We are nothing without math, top to bottom our lives are ruled by it. Golden ratios, Euclidian and non-Euclidian geometry, to say nothing of physics and quantum mechanics. Math is what took us from the dark ages of men burning women at the stake to exploring the cosmos like Gods. And because I was the only one in the Coalition with enough foresight to realize that math controls us all, I control Cassandra.”

  Meade had had it. He was sick and tired of hearing about this mysterious woman.

  “Who the fuck is Cassandra?” he exploded. “You babble on about math and science and some woman named Cassandra but none of it explains anything. Laszlo is trying to kill you and your reaction is to laugh? You’re insane lady. Certifiably insane in the membrane.”

  “No Mr. Meade,” Corcoran smiled, “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results - Cassandra allows me to control the results.”

  She pushed Meade through the doorway into the other room and he threw up his hands to protect his eyes from the bright light.

  Once his eyes had adjusted, his jaw dropped on the floor. It wasn’t possible.

  They were deep under the Martian New Plymouth colony. They were standing in front of an enormous reservoir of water on top of which were stacked hundreds of thousands of five by five inch cubes that were all networked together for some purpose. Each cube was emitting a bright light and Meade could feel the humidity within the chamber. Whatever that machine was down there, it was running hot, very hot and they were cooling it down with the vast reservoirs of water Mars
used to slake its thirst.

  “Beautiful aren’t they Mr. Meade?” Corcoran whispered as she gazed out over the network of bright shining cubes.

  “There’s a certain pleasantness to the light I’ll grant ya that. Depends on what the hell that thing is,” Meade replied. “Lots of destructive things are beautiful from the right angle.”

  “Come now Mr. Meade,” Corcoran turned to him, surprised. “Surely you’ve seen a quantum computer before.”

  “I know they’re quantum computers,” he said irritated. “Runabouts aren’t all ignorant hicks you know.”

  “My point was not to offend but rather to inquire if you’ve ever seen this kind of computing power before…” Corcoran asked in wonder. “Look out there. Below you is a network capable of processing the sum total of all data that’s ever existed in human history.”

  “But why?” Meade asked, frustrated.

  “I’m surprised you don’t recognize her,” Corcoran said with a sly smile, “You said you were looking forward to meeting Cassandra.”

  Meade looked down below them at the networked cubes and he understood, “It’s a brain.”

  “And not just any brain,” Corcoran smiled. “Her name is Cassandra and she is the product of decades of Coalition engineering, research and ingenuity. I’ve spent the years of my life putting her together, from basic sketches from when I was a mere grad student, to the last three when I was able to make my dream of predicting the future come to fruition. And she had rewarded me for granting her life. Cassandra has been the secret to my success here on Mars for the last few years and the pilot program I’ve run has the Coalition incredibly interested.”

  “What does Cassandra do?” Meade asked suspicious.

  She shrugged, “It’s better to show you.”

  She pushed a button on her ArmBar and an MP came out of nowhere and appeared at her side, “Madam Ambassador?”

  “Michael, I understand your billet is about to expire.”

  The MP remained stone-faced, “It’s been my pleasure to serve at Madam’s pleasure.”

  “I understand that you plan to leave Coalition service and begin mining for ORI out on the Martian plains, is that correct?”

  The MP cocked his head and raised an eyebrow, she waved him off, “Oh you know how the guard is, they all gossip like little girls. Did you get your transfer?”

  The MP looked down and away.

  “Ma’am, my discharge request was denied, I was stop-lossed.”

  “Forget all that, those stop-loss orders are idiotic. I shall look into it and ensure you are able to have an honorable retirement,” Corcoran said smiling brightly at the young MP. “Now go, she’s expecting you isn’t she?”

  “Yes ma’am,” the MP replied, his eyes becoming bright.

  “Then what are you waiting for? Take it from me, it’s never a good time to keep a woman waiting. Take the rest of the day off and go to her. Report back to in the morning, and we will see about removing your stop-loss and get you free from the Coalition Corps. You’ve served me well these past few years and I see no reason to prevent you from achieving your own happiness.”

  The MP’s eyes brightened and he glanced up at the Ambassador his face hopeful before the professional veneer slammed back over his face.

  “Thank you ma’am.”

  “Don’t thank me, go enjoy the rest of the day with your girlfriend. And start making plans for that claim of yours, it’s disgusting how they treat my guard. The Coalition will hear about their so-called stop-losses.”

  The MP allowed the wisp of a smile to touch his lips, and spun on his heel to march smartly out of the room. The door shut behind him as Meade looked at Corcoran confused, “What the hell was all that about?”

  “Patience my young friend,” Corcoran approached a display terminal and called up a playback on the monitor. “You see, Mr. Tanner there wants to leave my service. Unfortunately, because of the sensitive nature of my position, my guards are not allowed to leave my service unless they do so by a body bag.”

  “Once in, never out huh?” Meade asked sarcastically. “Only they don’t know that.”

  “Something like that. Such a requirement listed would be bad for moral.”

  “So why lie to him?” Meade asked, “Seems needlessly cruel to give the guy hope that he’s getting out tomorrow.”

  “Because life is cruel. Because you need a good demonstration of Cassandra’s powers. Because I say so. Choose any damn reason that makes you comfortable. Now sit down and shut up, the show is about to begin,” Corcoran said sharply. She dialed through the video monitors until she happened on the MP she had just dismissed, “Ahh… here we are.”

  “I don’t…”

  The Ambassador shushed him and pointed to the screen. The MP retreated out of the Ambassador’s palatial quarters and hurried down the main thoroughfare.

  “You see, Mr. Tanner believes that if he finally asks his girl to marry him, he’ll be free of the life the Coalition gave him when he was young, impressionable and thought it would lead to better things.”

  Meade approached Corcoran cautiously and looked down at the display. The Ambassador waved a finger over a couple that was sitting down in front of a café drinking coffee.

  “Watch Mr. Tanner’s steps grow lighter the further he gets from me. Watch him as his attitude changes, watch as he celebrates the idea that he will no longer have to watch over me like some bored babysitter.”

  Tanner practically ran the last hundred yards to the coffee shop and where an Asian woman wearing a fashionable sundress ran towards him squealing loudly when she saw him. He lifted her up, holding her tight as he leaned into him and kissed him. The two were the very picture of love, and everyone who watched wanted to celebrate along with them. They settled down and moved to the vendor, ordering their coffee.

  “Bit voyeuristic of you. I had no idea the upper crust were so kinky,” Meade said.

  Corcoran rolled her eyes and zoomed in on them. They took a seat outside the café as they drank their coffee. Tanner leaned back, looking comfortable, a confident look in his eye.

  “Mr. Tanner, believing that he is finally about to get out decided on his way over to finally propose to the woman he loves,” Corcoran said. “You’ll watch as he pulls the ring out of his left front pocket, and while despite looking confident, spill his coffee. Inside, the man’s a mess of emotions. Excited, scared…”

  Meade watched as the young man did indeed finger his left front pocket as if to reassure himself that some precious cargo hadn’t been stolen away. He reached for his coffee and fumbled with the cup, spilling the hot liquid all over his hand. His girlfriend leapt to her feet and grabbed some napkins to do what she could to help him clean up. She laughed at him all the while, and he sheepishly looked on, secretly pleased to see how much fun she was having taking care of him.

  “He’s nervous because some part of him knows that everything that happens next depends on her answer. He knows his life is about to change, but I can’t allow that to happen. He’s seen too much. He knows about Cassandra, a secret that the general public just isn’t ready for. Not even whispers. That’s why he has to die.”

  “Wait,” Meade said, slowly realizing, “You’re going to kill him?”

  A Cheshire cat smile spread across her face and she nodded an affirmative, “It’s far simpler to train a new guard than it is to keep one loyal who is in love and has ideas of freedom. It’s better they retire early this way.”

  “You don’t have to kill him,” Meade said desperately, “he seemed amiable enough to remaining on. That’s what good soldiers do, they follow orders.”

  “And they know that at any time they might be sacrificed in service of their country,” the Ambassador snapped back at him. “You needed proof of what Cassandra does, watch the power I have.”

  The Ambassador typed quickly on the display and smiled once she found what she was looking for. She typing another short message and returned to the display Meade was watching.
Her tone became calm as she began to narrate the scene once again. This time the video switched to a scene outside the ORI mines outside of Noctis. On it, there was a fat looking man who looked disgusted and furious.

  “Unfortunately, what they both don’t know is that one Mr. Wilson Bells, a mole who spent all night mining ORI out of the Noctis mines has just been let go from the Coalition mining concern. Furious, Mr. Bells is about to storm out of the mine without properly securing all his tools to his belt. In a little under thirty seconds after he proposes and she says yes, a drill from Mr. Bell’s tool belt will fall and land square on the head of our young Coalition officer.”

  Meade shook his head. This lady was psychotic.

  She saw him looking at her and she smiled. “You think I’m making up stories for my own benefit. Please, watch for yourself.”

  Meade decided to indulge her since it wasn’t as if he had anything else to do.

  The Coalition officer was still fingering his left front pocket when the waitress came out to refill their coffee. The second the waitress left, the officer withdrew the ring from his pocket and opened it in front of the young woman opposite him.

  The screen split into two as the right half showed Mr. Bells take off on an Aerocycle muttering furiously to himself. He withdrew a flask from his inside pocket and took a long belt out of it. Placing the flask back in his pocket, the Aerocycle weaves to one side and his tool belt shifts. He rooted around in his other pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper that was clearly his last paycheck. Scowling, he throws the envelope out into the wind and it flies up and out into traffic. The wire holding his toolbelt on his belt flexes, snaps, and falls.

  Below and on the left side of the screen happening at the same time, Meade watched the woman’s eyes go wide and scream. The ring was a surprise, but it wasn’t any more shocking than a few seconds later when the toolbelt hit a perfect bulleye on him killing the young officer instantly.

  The young widow was covered in her lover’s blood and she was unable to do anything but scream.