by Hylton Smith
“I’m intrigued to hear it. There will be a break in activity between Bianca’s participation and my final touch. We could talk then.”
Harley had banished his doubts for the present, and he asked Attila if there had been any response to Alexander’s question regarding a satisfactory means of identifying Tolstoy. There hadn’t, and he needed to push this forward if the deception was to occur in time to save the mass killing. “I suggest we make him an offer he can’t refuse. Tell him that we are releasing Tolstoy into the care of his Hulks and we therefore expect him to delay the executions. This is an act of trust on our part and he needs to show the same respect to us.”
Attila was doubtful that this would occur but complied.
Chapter 26
Alexander was perplexed by the proposal to release Tolstoy without any guarantee to halt the stadium cull. He mulled over the possible psychology which was being employed, and asked for the precise location in which Tolstoy would be freed. When this was refused he became more suspicious. The original date planned for the massacre was looming, and he accepted that preparations were behind schedule. This was also something he wanted to avoid. Empty threats were a sign of weakness. Despite his discomfort he agreed to the proposal. This communication effectively transferred the pressure back to Albert.
He was almost ready. A defining moment in the second uprising was being sculptured. Atlas had his reinforcements, albeit not fully trained. The Neanderthals were getting restless, they wanted action. Cleopatra had released the new chargers to domestiques and she was to lead them toward Spokane, in a thrust to the east. Christophe would join her, as he still had one eye on the Cape. Attila would complement the eastern initiative as he had spoken with the two defecting commanders in Tacoma. They would help spread the objection to war on civilians. Harley spoke with Albert. “Are you ready to hear my proposal, or do you intend to inject Tolstoy first?”
“I should hear it before I inject you, otherwise I may never hear it.”
“Very reassuring Albert, I must say. Ok, it occurred to me that of all the fauna on Earth, the Borg have only ever been fascinated with one, other than humans. In fact, we have almost looked at them as Gods. The avian varieties, with their freedom of the skies and graceful movement are observed with wonder. They are still considered as a template of future aspiration, virtually sacred entities. Our Borg obsession with hygiene does not apply with these creatures. Their droppings are not removed from city buildings or statues. They are also a migratory species, and if we want to truly deliver your pathogen on a global basis, they would seem to be a perfect logistics ally. It depends on how confident you are about your ability to restrict the organism after it creates its own hell.”
“You have really given this some thought Harley. Here I was, believing that you would actually try to prevent the operation at the last minute. If you are serious, then I can do this instead of infecting you and Tolstoy. Don’t worry about deactivating the pathogen, it has been programmed for extinction as it can’t mutate to feed on any different kind of hosts, it is specifically targeted to Borg circuitry. I am more worried that it may not be able to discriminate between Borg variants than I am about its eventual demise. I’m satisfied that it will react differently to you and Tolstoy, but I should have had more time to look at other ‘off specification’ examples. Should we go the avian route?”
“Yes, but we must proceed with the original plan before unleashing the global plague. There are a lot of lives riding on delivering Tolstoy first. Inject him as soon as you can.” It occurred while Harley observed.
The stage was set.
*
Tolstoy was delivered to Cleopatra, and the eastern pincer moved out. All Hulk stations had been alerted that Tolstoy’s delivery was imminent. Within forty-eight hours, the one in Spokane duly respected the peaceful exchange and whisked him onwards to a location of verification. The hiatus gave Attila and the two defecting commanders a chance to mix with their Spokane equivalents. When those responsible for guarding the city were informed of the back-up of Neanderthals waiting in Tacoma, primed to head in their direction if required, it planted the seeds of fear. They had heard of their ruthless atomisation of the Tacoma Hulks, and the corresponding denials of this by the High Command. The two former loyalist commanders were able to sketch in the truth. Attila then posed a pivotal question.
“What will you do if the stadium massacre goes ahead? We have honoured our part of the bargain. If this is not reciprocated we will have no choice but to eliminate your garrison. Your options will have expired, and you should think hard on what the loyalist regime will do to prevent us. Judging by the events in Seattle and Tacoma, it would appear to be an unnecessary sacrifice. If like us, you are torn between loyalty and killing citizens to rule only by fear, you must decide soon. We were never created to agonise over such conflicting purpose, yet we already have. Let us know how you wish to proceed as quickly as you can.”
Alexander had not been informed that Tolstoy had suffered modification, and was furious when this was discovered. He now believed this was why the rebels had offered him on a plate without having an official pledge to suspend the cull. When he was told that it was easy to restore Tolstoy’s modules, he suspected further trickery and authorised it to be done in a controlled environment, in case there was an explosive device embedded in Tolstoy’s operating system. When there was no such evidence, Alexander was able to authenticate the identity of his former Chief-of-Staff. He accused the rebels of underhanded tactics in modifying Tolstoy, claiming that he had been converted to the rebel ideology, and had to be publicly executed. He would be the iconic sacrifice which would signal the massacre of another one hundred thousand individuals who harboured the same treasonous intent. The massacre would be delayed, but not cancelled; he claimed that this was the agreed basis of the bargain.
The opening up of Tolstoy’s architecture lit the blue touch paper of the cybernetic plague, which was as yet undetected. The incubation period was in process.
*
Harley was injected only in the presence of Albert. He had doubts which could not be banished. They weren’t directed by his possible demise, rather that the world was going to change, and it was largely down to him. The gaseous infusion invaded his silicon veins and he was convinced that he was experiencing protocol corruption. He drifted into contemplation of what James would make of all this as an adult, if they both survived.
*
Events overtook Alexander’s intention to renege on the Mexico City massacre. The contagion was underway, but it was being reported as sporadic malfunctions. Various loyalists who had been involved with checking Tolstoy were suffering temporary data retrieval difficulty. It wasn’t until Tolstoy ground to a halt that a ‘post mortem’ revealed the extent of the damage. His circuitry was turning into a jelly. The slime had been freed to be transmitted by air circulation, and this promoted a much more rapid spread of the meltdown rate. When Alexander was apprised of this he immediately realised that he’d been hoodwinked. He asked his subordinates two questions.
“I want to know if I have this bug, and if so what can be done to stop it in its tracks.”
His foremost Borg Health Checker couldn’t answer either question, and was told to report back in two hours with a prognosis, or he could expect to be decommissioned. He was already contaminated from the examination of the jelly and was experiencing short blackouts. He never reported back and it became academic, as Alexander had felt the first signs of such disconnects. He swiftly ordered an uncontaminated Health Checker to be brought in and stressed the urgency for an antigen. The problem he faced was the speed of the outward spread of the contagion. Most of those close to him in Dallas were showing similar symptoms. Finding individuals who weren’t affected was almost impossible. His new Health Checker advised instituting quarantine procedures around the city while a crash programme of finding an antigen was studied elsewhere. The chain of command to Mexico City was under threat. In believing he would no
t survive this plague, Alexander, like Christophe, remembered the X-711 craft and its nuclear capability.
The equipping of the Ganymede mission with the two devices had been an exception to the ban on use of nuclear weapons, simply because they were travelling to the unknown. Even so, the deployment could only be authorised by joint Borg and human agreement. The security codes were split. The High Command had one part and the other two were with Harley, Rodriguez and Christophe. There was one other individual who had devised the algorithm for all three – the software engineer. Under normal circumstances he would never have been consulted, but this was an extreme emergency. He was brought in and decommissioned while the encoded strings were back-traced to reveal the digit sequence. By now Alexander was becoming delusional, with longer periods of thought deprivation. He inexplicably visited the X-711 hangar at the Cape with two equally disoriented loyalists. They knew they didn’t have much time left, and in a confused state Alexander input the detonation sequences for both devices. He got one wrong, but the other proceeded to bring a new horizon to the war. This devastation halted virtually everything. The sheer confusion had sculptured the cease-fire that had never materialised by negotiation. ‘Virtually everything’ didn’t include the avian delivery of untold quantities of the scourge. Multiple species of birds had already become messengers of death to many areas of the planet. Harley’s developing schizophrenia sank to the darkest level. It was complicated by his initial symptoms having receded. He found the urge to end his personal struggle difficult to resist.
It didn’t help that the remaining uncontaminated loyalist hierarchy surrendered unconditionally and pleaded for help in providing an antigen. The war was won, the price was yet to be counted, and that was now in the hands of an organism which would decide the fate of millions. The Borg elite had devised a test to confirm whether or not individuals had succumbed to the infection, but many of those afflicted did not adhere to quarantine regulations. The momentum of the plague was consequently unabated. Attila and Cleopatra were clear, but Albert was still unable to provide accurate data on exactly which characteristics were resistant to the bug. The planet was lurching on a precipice of anarchy.
*
Harley could now appreciate what could happen if an antigen was produced by Albert. Those who were saved would learn that others had inbuilt immunity, and that the so-called compassionate rebels had authorised selective genocide. Furthermore, they would legitimately question whether Alexander had been right after all, as this could be construed as proof that they were the superior branch of the species. The survivors were defective aberrations from the template and the intended Borg elite cleansing of such rejects had been justified. This could breed growing hatred which could lead to future war. The alternative was equally bleak, becoming a vigil of a countdown to total loyalist extermination, and how that would be perceived by the aforementioned rejects. His descent into deep depression spiralled nearer to suicide. Despite the efforts of Cleopatra and Christophe, to convince him that all of the other options facing him were potentially accompanied by even worse outcomes, it fell on deaf ears. Christophe understood better than anyone how grief could twist the cerebral capacity to fill up with black emotional distress, supplanting all logic in the process.
“Don’t make the mistake I did Harley. Drugs, revenge, and even suicide are not the answer. My obsession with assassinating Alexander has extinguished my need for revenge, but it isn’t quite as sweet as I’d imagined. We all need a reason to live, and I can confess to you that I pledged to end my life once Alexander was gone. I now have to seek a reason to abandon that pledge. You already have a reason. It’s a little boy called James who was adopted by you, so he now becomes a responsibility as well as a reason. Focus on that for now. As one of your loyal soldiers, I would recommend total acceptance that you could never have predicted Alexander’s slaughter of his own kind. You and everyone else have to come to terms with such an act of unstable mind. Despite your own mental struggle, wait for the reaction of those who didn’t have to make the decisions which faced us, the oppressed. Left to Alexander, although it seems unimaginable right now, his world would have been even more depressing than the one we have inherited.”
Chapter 27
Harley wrestled forlornly with many voices in his silicon synapses, and ended up confronting Albert.
“Your mission must be almost complete. I have been an easy subject for you to manipulate. Do you feel fulfilled?”
“Not really, I am saddened by many things. I have witnessed just about every imaginable aspect of inter-species butchery, culminating in the insane act of a very disturbed loyalist leader. I have also witnessed your weak pacifism in the face of intolerance and oppression. In spite of such a short but brutal learning curve, I retain the desire to live, and maybe even influence your future. However, I am dying, and my ‘brethren’ will soon follow. Ironically, you have the means to re-create my kind, but why would you? You correctly suspect that I have harnessed your weakness to complete my mission. I had to do this; I am a Primede. Is that so difficult to understand?”
“Yes, I’m afraid it is, for a weak leader like me. How do you know that your cherished kin across the galaxy will prove to be any different to Alexander? It was you who impressed upon me that they were the ancestors of all of us, and that includes Christophe, me, you and Alexander. Whether we are direct or indirect progeny, the Primedes are responsible for us being here. They are taking the easy way out.”
“I keep telling you that they are driven by their own struggle to survive, and in a way which alters the least quantum of time. It could have been easier for them to ensure that Homo-Sapiens became extinct rather than Neanderthals. It would certainly have been less complicated to truncate the emergence of Homo-Erectus. You have also conveniently glossed over the fact that you went to Ganymede, you brought back the vials, and you decided to let the genie out of the bottle….. I could go on. YOU collectively helped to create the situation, and yet I am perceived as the sole instigator of all that is unacceptable from your own actions. Can’t you see that the Primedes gave you a multiple choice puzzle? I am guilty of extoling the virtue of one such choice, no more.”
Harley digested this response and somehow fashioned a question which Albert seemed unable to answer with his usual directness.
“If I am to accept everything you have just said, what would be your reaction to my request to give me an antigen, to help those domestiques who, unlike me, do not have sufficient deviant circuitry to survive the pathogen? Would you say that you can’t or you won’t?”
“You are already aware of the Primedes having made this very mistake. If they hadn’t we wouldn’t be here.”
“I will take that as confirmation that we may rule out ‘can’t’.
“What is your point Harley? We talked this through before the pathogen was developed.”
“My point is that the Primedes may believe they made the wrong decision by creating an antigen, and we must convince them that we have learned from such misjudgement. We need to show them that we can manage the situation differently on Earth.”
Albert’s sarcastic expression was accompanied by an invitation to justify such a ludicrous statement. Harley continued.
“I have listened to your lectures on what the Primedes will and will not accept. I therefore have to tell you what I will accept. It’s very simple, I want an antigen, and I will not accept no for an answer. If you won’t provide one I will get the best human geneticists on to the task immediately. If you are correct about the Primedes coming here at some time, and blindly cleansing the planet of cybernetic life, I want to offer them a chance to observe harmony. A long period of tolerance, cooperation, and social cohesion may get them to reflect on why their compassionate act went wrong. If we demonstrate a different outcome, then surely any truly sentient species would be curious as to how it was achieved.”
“And how will you ensure this happens?”
“Nothing is certain, but if we take no f
urther action, you repetitively point out that they will eradicate domestiques anyway. What do we have to lose? When I talk about harmony I include your template. You asked why would we even contemplate this, and I would have thought that it was obvious. I want them to see that all of their progeny can work together. I envisage more of your kind being nurtured without the maturation technique, giving them a long life. I know you will tell me that it will be difficult, but we may have centuries to develop the enabling technology. You could be part of that if you feel that it confers purpose to your brief existence. The current plight of the planet has presented us with a unique pivot of progression or regression. The recent horrific acts of both campaigns have produced a moment of unity, hence the total and absolute cry of ‘enough is enough’. There is no legacy other than the utter pointlessness of further conflict. Each species has its own problems to overcome, and that is the fountainhead with which to begin. The Neanderthals have a problem in common with you, yet they are already keen to nurture offspring without maturation treatment. Domestiques are rallying as I speak; they want to help the stricken loyalists, whether or not they have deviant architecture. Humans, who have been on the receiving end of High Command policy more than others, deplore the indiscriminate biological weapon we have deployed and want it to end. I have spoken to your comrades from the pure Primede vial and because they have not been involved in either the conflict or your specific mission, they have had to socially interact with all other species. They have shared their fear, and their relief at the cessation of hostility. They recognise your loyalty to your ancestral cause, and they share your desire to live. They question the motive of inclusion of a maturation vial. Albert, we have to do this before it’s too late.”
“You have omitted two central issues. Firstly, there is the small matter of the Neanderthals being able to breathe this atmosphere without build-up of toxin. We don’t have that luxury. Your confidence in human tolerance is misplaced, and the proof is right under your nose. Christophe has never shed his thirst for revenge, and as long as human history has been recorded the same indelible trait recurs.”