House of Jackals

by Todd M. Moreno

  Depré's lips thinned. "Very well." Depré drew himself up and cleared his throat, as if Steuben’s question had been a rude interruption. "In any emergency where planetary security is in jeopardy, all networked computers deemed at risk are deactivated, with their memories expunged, flooded and burned. Physical tampering, of course, would result in complete destruction through small incendiary devices. The governor's computers are exceptions to this. They can lockout the network and function as a closed, independent system. Only in a severe crisis will the destruct command affect his computers, as it's assumed that he has important files for which there are no copies outside his office."

  His voice gravelly, Depré poured himself a drink from a pitcher at the center of the table. His eyes downcast beneath one raised brow, the rebel took a slow, deliberate sip. "This seems to be a courtesy to him," Depré resumed, replacing his glass, "not a government policy."

  Wanting the man to get to the point, Steuben wished Depré knew how to conduct a military briefing. His stuck-up schoolmaster speaking style only made it worse.

  "To allow for this," Depré said, "the governor-general's computer is programmed to transfer its memory to an archives unit. Were we at war, the response would be different. However, there's no reason to erase all his files just because a disorganized group of dissidents decide to occupy a government building as a protest stunt. That's where we have them."

  And what would you do with this information, Lenalt? Steuben asked silently. Use it for one of your secret grand plans, or sell it to the highest bidder?

  "So, Colonel," Kamarin said, bringing him from his thoughts. Depré smirked at his surprise. "Is anything wrong with our plan?"

  Steuben did not hesitate. "You cannot rely on HOPIS not sending a destruct command to the Admiral’s computer, courtesy or no. Now, I could buy you some time to sever the computer-connection to HOPIS before they do so. That is not a problem. The problem is assuming the information will remain in his computer until your plan is executed." He added condescension to his voice, playing for a reaction. "You see, by the time you finalize planning and preparation—"

  "Everything's set for two weeks from today, Colonel," Depré spat, making the last word an expletive as he stared at Steuben. A few people gasped at the disclosure, and at Depré's display of open hatred. "The files should remain there for at least that long."

  Having received open confirmation of his suspicions, Steuben pressed on. "You also assume the information will be automatically downloaded to the computer's archives instead of remaining in the internal memory of the deactivated system. If Chancellery security is compromised, internal security systems will take over, and institute a lock-out."

  "Downloading the information to their archives would be standard procedure," Depré said cautiously, wincing as he saw Kamarin glaring at him. "Why wouldn't it be downloaded?"

  "One does not erase a system like that and remote-archive the data unless there is a real danger of unauthorized access. You said so yourself: Admiral Neider's own aides cannot access those files without clearance. Even with your technical experts, it would be difficult to break into the files you seek. The hardware is set to self-destruct if tampered with. Not even I could get those drives out of there and still have something meaningful to retrieve from them."

  "We'll be taking over the building," Depré insisted. "And despite how well you claim to know Admiral Neider, we can force him to—"

  "How long do you expect to keep your ground?" Steuben asked. "Do you think you can negotiate with the local authorities for an hour? Two hours? Assuming you can compel the Admiral’s cooperation, there is a whole protocol to copy those files off his computer. It will take time. Three hours? Will this demonstration outside the building be peaceful or—”

  "Of course it will be peaceful," Kamarin replied, her rough voice strained. "Civilians will be out there! If weapons are used—”

  "They will be massacred." With a calculated look, the Colonel expressed his doubt about Depré's real intentions. "Then again," he resumed, shifting his gaze, "you only need to hold the building long enough for one of the security protocols to bring down the computers as a precaution. I warn you though, Seffan may take a personal interest in Galleston, and he can be unpredictable." Even as he spoke, the old military officer had a clear idea of what would happen if Seffan became involved. The rebels would never have the computers long enough to be a real threat unless the uprisers were armed. But if they could obtain that data….

  "We'll be dealing with Derrick," Kamarin countered, still seemingly agitated by the mention of weapons and civilians. "He's the one in charge of domestic affairs, at least for now."

  "That may be so,” Steuben admitted, “though I know him less than I do his father. In any event, one question remains: Where are the Chancellery's computer archives?"

  "I'd think you'd know," Depré snapped, irritated at having to defend his plan.

  Just why do you hate me? Steuben wondered. Looking Depré in the eye, he recalled a distant memory. You can’t possibly know what I have done.

  "I could guess," Steuben said, "but I'd rather hear it from you. Then you can explain to everyone why you’re only telling us this now."

  "Why, to confer with—"

  "Save it, Boy," the Colonel breathed, deciding to take a risk. "You said this mission will take place in two weeks, and with the Assembly's blessing. Your troops are set and ready. And do not give me any ‘peaceful demonstration’ shit. Those files will not be downloaded unless your activities are interpreted as a full-scale rebel assault."

  With the issue of Kamarin and Depré's secrecy once again brought to the forefront, cries of dismay and anger rose around the table. Seeing the rebel suddenly realize that he had been goaded into exposing his true designs, Steuben suppressed a blackhearted grin.

  "You’re revealing your plan now because you had to,” Steuben went on, catching Kamarin close her eyes and shake her head, “thinking you had a chance to discredit me. Otherwise you'd have proceeded with your true operation in silence, until you either had the information you sought, or could no longer conceal your activities from us."

  "That's not true!" Depré turned to Kamarin. Kamarin said nothing.

  "Moreover, your plan anticipates sacrificing the civilians in the building, and on the streets, while your own people go after the archives, probably through the subway tunnels."

  "What do you mean?" Depré paled.

  "What if fighting erupts underground? Do you think HOPIS will distinguish between the ‘good’ rebels above and ‘bad’ rebels below? If you go anywhere near the archives, they will know what you are after. HOPIS knows the computer system schematics. And no matter what you say now, if you're to have any chance of holding the building long enough to acquire those files, the people above will need to be armed." Steuben watched as Depré's eyes widened. The reaction was not of surprise, but of apprehension. "You tanker of shit," Steuben cursed, reading deeper into Depré's expression and becoming truly angry. "You knew that all along."

  Taniell Kamarin straightened as she looked at Depré.

  He shivered under her measuring gaze. "We know where our target is," Depré managed finally, raising his chin as he cocked his head to the side. "We won't need much time."

  "Your confidence is comforting." Steuben was ready to throttle the man. "But you still haven't fully thought this out." Kamarin was about to speak, but the Colonel cut her off. "Don't misunderstand me. While I don't know your exact intentions with the Admiral, your plan might work, with a little more study." Steuben paused to gauge the impact of his statement before accounting for his earlier reaction. "I just get upset when a commander discounts the danger to the people under him—even when they are only civilians."

  "Who are these civilians we’ll be using anyway?" asked the man Steuben had determined to be working with Depré and Kamarin in their poorly wrought playlet. The Colonel turned toward the man, but he refused to meet Steuben's stare.

  "‘Scoopers’ an
d misfits mostly," one woman replied. The Colonel lifted his head at the derogatory reference to the followers of the New Dawn Believer Church, and received a cold look. "Fools who like to be arrested while protesting some pet injustice."

  Putting a hand to her stomach, Taniell sat back in her chair.

  Steuben felt as if the ground had somehow shifted beneath him. Had he pushed too far? What exactly were these rebels willing to sacrifice for their vision of the Greater Good?

  "That's rather cynical of you," remarked a man from the other end of the table, a flirtatious smile spreading across his face. Like the woman, he was among those who came to the meeting with Kamarin and Depré. "Especially given what they'll be doing for us."

  "Their usefulness doesn't negate their stupidity. The masses are only pawns. I won't apologize for not being a hypocrite. Besides," she added, “half of them see it as a chance to smash and loot, with the other half seeing it as a cheap date.”

  "Young lady," Steuben began, chewing each word to keep them civil. "I've sent many people to their deaths, and while a few may be faceless names to me, I honor them all. Frankly, your disregard for those who'd sacrifice so much for a cause you put to them sickens me. Even more, knowing that while these ‘pawns’ are out risking their lives, you'll be in a safe, far away room, sipping flavored coffee and taking small, even bites from a powdered cruller."

  "How dare you speak to me that way?" the woman demanded, her tone one of outrage, but her face calm and unruffled. "I risk my life every day just being a part of this ‘enterprise’."

  "Your attitude says otherwise, and I find nothing noble in it. As a rebel leader, you strike me as a closet aristocrat, desirous of some elevated status that you feel is both deserved and unduly deprived." Glancing at Kamarin, Steuben noticed that their leader looked ill.

  "And what about you, Colonel?" Depré challenged. "Aren't you here because you were passed over for promotion a third time? Isn't that a death knell for a military careerist?"

  Forcing an unfelt sense of ease, Steuben laughed. He had been waiting for the rebels to throw that in his face, having long ceased to care about rank. "I told you what the Possórs were," Steuben said finally. "Seffan’s Great Purge only opened the way for people more apt to do his bidding." Henrald Steuben swallowed as a woman’s face surfaced from his memory.

  Rachel.

  Steuben’s voice became solemn. "Add this to his executing of innocent people—"

  "But don’t military minions hold the idea of loyalty higher than most?" Depré sneered.

  "Even loyalty requires a proper perspective," Steuben responded, his voice firm. "As Count-Grandee, Seffan's first duty is to his subjects. His betrayal of that duty is why I work to bring him down." Steuben's gaze had intensified, but he would no more admit to his pain over one of Seffan’s particular victims than he would reveal his guilt over the eight agents Seffan had ordered him to kill. The Colonel would have his vengeance though. He swore it.

  "Good words," Depré sniffed. "But I am not convinced."

  "Are you prepared to charge me with disloyalty?" Steuben asked.

  Banishing the image of the woman who refused to leave his thoughts, the Colonel made his face portray more annoyance than anger. Depré hesitated as he glanced toward the ceiling. Steuben stole a glance at Kamarin. She appeared less agitated, though her brow remained furrowed. Depré was about to answer when Steuben spoke again.

  "I expected a quicker reply, Lenalt," Steuben said calmly. "Unless you plan to deal with me the same way that Taniell dealt with—" Steuben's words died in his throat as realization overtook him. He did not need to see the alarm on Lenalt and Taniell’s faces to verify it. Although unplanned, Steuben had created an opportunity for Kamarin to eliminate one more of Depré's competitors for the position of unit leader. The tortured doubt, the shock of the first kill...the Colonel saw it now as an act. Kamarin had known what she was doing all along.

  You cur-bred whore, Steuben said silently, his eyes boring into Kamarin like lasfire.

  Depré smiled. His trap was finally sprung.

  Not to be outdone, the Colonel willed a smile as well, although his eyes continued to blaze. You kids got me once, but I know you now. And I'll be damned before I underestimate just how low you young shit-slurpers are willing to go again.

  At that moment, the Colonel deduced the reason why the others had apparently dismissed the death of their insufferable brother-in-arms. They had already privately discussed it at an earlier meeting. That was when Kamarin had told them about the Assembly's new ally. And that was when she might have first talked with Depré, and perhaps some of the others, about the plan.

  "Given the number of people you chose to tell about your operation before today, Lenalt," Steuben said, "is its adoption a forgone conclusion?"

  Depré's head lifted at the unexpected question, the danger of affirmatively responding to it clear. Those who had not been told of the plan would feel slighted.

  "You're correct about having told a few people," Kamarin admitted carefully, stopping Depré from answering the question with her eyes. "However, as was said before—"

  The Colonel stood from his chair. "Then I see no point in continuing to be part of whatever debate you intended to stage," he declared. "Besides, as I'm sure you haven't reserved any significant role for me in your schemes, I should return to my other duties."

  “Other duties?” Kamarin asked.

  “Why yes. I still need to keep up appearances. Do the usual reports, attend to the odd assignments. I am still an active colonel in service to the Crown, after all.”

  Kamarin nodded. Steuben returned the acknowledgment before stepping back and making his way to the door.

  "How should we count your vote, Steuben?" Depré called out with mock attentiveness.

  Steuben stopped without looking at him. "Tell me, Lenalt, did you propose the date for this mission, or did the Assembly?"

  "The Assembly," Depré answered without the slightest pause.

  Steuben caught Kamarin rolling her eyes, imagining her renewed regret at giving Depré the chance to run this meeting in her stead. "Count my vote as a ‘nay’."

  "Henrald," Depré called as Steuben continued walking, stopping him again, "now that you know our full plans, will you betray us to Seffan?"

  A low murmur ran through the room, but no one spoke out openly.

  Steuben turned with near perfect grace, his eyes holding Depré with such slight regard as to not even merit scorn. "That scene has already been played for us once, Lenalt. If the idea here was to get rid of yet another rival in your bid to become unit leader, at least respect us enough to think up a new piece of political theater."

  Having the satisfaction of seeing Depré’s face drop, the Colonel added one last point to firmly secure his safe departure. "As for me, my decision was made when I threw my lot in with you. Now the time has come to finally make your decision about me. I only ask that you either let me be useful, or let me join another group."

  His nose wrinkled in distaste, Depré was about to say something when Kamarin grabbed his arm. The young rebel turned, only to see Taniell slowly shake her head. Maintaining the silence, the Colonel nodded to the ashen-faced rebel leader before exiting the room.

  The door closed behind him, Steuben took a deep breath and quickly headed up the stairs leading out of the building. He had been in closer scrapes, but he was not out yet. There was still a chance that these rebels might change their minds and come after him.

  Goddamned kids, Steuben thought, pushing past two people to get to the building’s general exit. They do not know how far to trust me, so they tell me too much without allowing me to prove myself. Well he was not going to let the rebels’ own stupidity force them to kill him. Mindful of what he now had to do, the Colonel punched a code on his wrist-com. The recipient of the message would know where to meet him, and what to bring.

  Back amongst the other rebels, Kamarin quietly shared her reason for letting Steuben leave. "He is righ
t, Lenalt," she said in a low voice. "Your plan is flawed." Taniell glanced again at the others, shook her head and sat down.

  She would have to take over this operation herself.

  "You know how the Assembly feels about this," Depré replied. "They won’t let us abandon the mission over a few civilians."

  "It won’t be just a few," Taniell corrected. "If we go through with this...we won’t have time to convince the Admiral. We will need a rogue initiate on this one."

  Mention of a “rogue initiate” drew several gasps, and a few huffs of exasperation. This was all getting out of hand. While the deeper psychic training given to initiates of the Miran Church’s Holy Orders, and other groups, meant that they were treated with respect and deference by the general populace, there was also suspicion and fear. More so for “rogue initiates,” who left the restrictions and control of their Orders, and roamed freely among ordinary folk, who in turn had little defense against their psychic abilities. The Holy Orders and others monitored such initiates and took precautions, but given the rebels’ overall lack of formal psychic training, inviting one into their midst was not without its risks.

  "Convince the Admiral of what?" asked one of the other rebels. Given that leaving a Holy Order or any similar organization meant having to survive on one’s own, initiates “going rogue” often resorted to selling their services. Fees were at a premium for psychic abilities that were forbidden, and this proscription included various techniques of mind control.

  “Yeah, I thought we were about grabbing the data from an info dump,” added another.

  “And I thought you said rogue initiates were too dangerous,” Lenalt remarked, catching Kamarin’s eye. “That it would almost be like trusting a criminal.”

  “Technically we are all criminals,” Annika Lerle stated, stepping forward. “Even the Holy Orders have their rebels.”

  "Find us someone powerful, Annika,” Taniell told her. “Whatever the cost. And tell the Assembly, Lenalt. If we’re to do this, we need a psychic who can bend the Admiral to our will."