Miranda's Demons

by Ian Miller

  "The second reason for giving me command is that I can deploy your forces better than you can. This is not meant to insult anyone. The fact is you haven't fought a major set piece war for over two hundred and fifty years. That is good, in general, but not now. I have, and for that, you will have to trust me. Also," he added, "I have a very practical knowledge of what the enemy can and cannot do, and what he is likely to do. There is no way anyone on Earth could know this."

  "And suppose we give you this command?" Chu asked. "You wish to take Commissioner Kotchetkova's place at this Council?" All eyes turned to Natasha, who stared at the table without expression. She was clearly not happy, but she had the discipline to hold her emotions in check.

  "Definitely not," Gaius replied. "The Commissioner will retain all her previous authority. I only require overall authority in the field."

  "I should add here that I am prepared to go along with this arrangement," Natasha interposed, with a flat unenthusiastic tone. "To be honest, we have no choice. What Claudius has said is perfectly true; without his additional forces we have no realistic chance, and we shall have to take at face value his claim for generalship. Accordingly, I propose something rather special, and to avoid various employment issues and so on, we make the appointment in accord with the customs of the old Res Publica. I move we give Gaius Claudius Scaevola the commission of Imperator, a special commission that gives overall command of the military until such time as the M'starn are defeated finally in this solar system, at which time he shall surrender the said commission."

  "And what payment do you want?" Munro asked.

  "As of right, nothing more than that required to meet my expenses while on Earth," Gaius replied. "Later, some sort of passport, the right to live on Earth, and a little currency to purchase some basic essentials would be gratefully received, but it is not a condition.

  "Of course you will have to finance the construction of the Earth forces, and pay the troops. Captured goods will be delivered to Earth, but only when I am satisfied that there is no significant leakage of new science. I know you may find this hard to accept, but that is for your own good."

  "Who will do the manufacturing?" Munro asked.

  "That is for the Council to decide," Gaius smiled, then added, "Let me explain how I intend to operate. I shall make my requests to Commissioner Kotchetkova, and after that, I shall have no further role other than to ensure training is carried out and to take command in the war. I shall request the sort of equipment I need, how much I would like, and what priorities apply if there are limits. I shall then have to fight with whatever turns up, although to be fair, if nothing eventuated I would probably give up right then. All I require is the appropriate equipment, all made to the specifications that will be given."

  "I see," Munro said, his eyes greedily fixed to a pad where he was carrying out calculations. "How much has to be made?"

  "As much as you can afford," Gaius said. "Your financial people will probably give you an indication. However, I should add that the more that is made, provided it is what's required, the better the chances of success."

  "Then it all boils down to how much in the way of taxes we can raise," Kleppe said thoughtfully.

  "Doesn't it always," came a cynical comment.

  "You'd be surprised how little changes really," Gaius smiled. "I shall work with Commissioner Kotchetkova in deciding what should be made, and you should get it made as quickly as possible. Since whoever wins the contracts will also get the benefit of improvements in manufacturing technique, I would expect the bids for these weapons to be very competitive."

  "If the Council will decide a figure, I shall see the money is available," Kleppe commented. "I shall give each of you a statement of the general economic effects of each incremental level, in hundreds of millions of fecus, by Wednesday. Keep your computer ports open. We can have an emergency meeting shortly after to vote the amounts."

  "Thank you very much," Natasha nodded her approval. "However, we should be able to vote an interim amount now, to get started. I would like to move that we vote an interim two hundred million to enable some immediate orders to be placed."

  There was some initial dissent from some of the Commissioners, particularly from the Moon and the Stations, and a comment from Reiner, but the motion was swept along by the other corporations. The money was voted.

  Chapter 4

  "That was not a success," Halas said sourly, as he fell back into a lounge chair. "That wretched Kotchetkova's gone and made that Claudius Emperor, and we've got to do something."

  "Imperator, actually," Elizabeth Garret noted.

  "And exactly what's the difference?"

  "Initially, at least, an Imperator was the military commander," Elizabeth Garret replied. "The so-called Emperors of Rome took the title to confirm they also commanded the army."

  "Nice debating point," Halas growled. "Since the early republic is long gone, I rather fancy our Claudius will sooner or later make the connection."

  "I can't say I am terribly impressed by how things are turning out either," Kleppe added, with an equally sour tone. "What can we do?"

  "I hope you two aren't going to spoil our evening," Elizabeth said with a frown. "The main course will be here in half an hour, and I hope we can finish business by then. I've gone to a lot of trouble tonight."

  "Stuff your food," Halas snarled. "If you didn't eat so much . . ."

  "You can talk!" Elizabeth snorted. "You're –"

  "You two must stop that!" Kleppe said to Halas, as he stepped between them. "We must not fight each other."

  "All right, I apologize," Halas said as he sat back on his chair. "But I hope you'll agree that we've got to talk."

  "Go on, then. Talk!" Elizabeth said. Her tone showed that she was piqued, and unlikely to be a keen listener.

  "Well, I trust you're listening," Halas said, still quite sourly, and having clearly picked up the significance of Elizabeth's mood, "because in my opinion Natasha and that Roman are getting stronger by the hour."

  "I thought you said that Natasha was dying?" Lorenz interposed. "Well, if you ask me, and I guess you won't, she was looking very healthy today."

  "I think we can safely assume she's had help from the heavens," Halas replied caustically. "I believe she was cured by that Roman fossil."

  "Who's just been made Imperator," Kleppe added.

  "Oh dear, now we have a pair of worry-worts, who want to worry a perfectly good dinner to pieces" Elizabeth shook her head.

  "Elizabeth! Please, be serious!" Halas implored.

  "As far as I can see we still have our original problem," Kleppe said, trying to return to the original theme. "In fact, the problem's much worse because now we've got this walking fossil, and if you thought Defence was hard to crack, this Claudius is much worse. With the power he has . . ."

  "He has no more power than Natasha," Elizabeth Garrett countered. "You have this all wrong. The space ship is not the problem. You can't exercise power just by threatening to kill from a distance."

  "The M'starn seem to have done quite well with their threats so far," Kleppe remarked drily.

  "Have they really?" Garrett queried. "Show me!"

  "Just look at that meeting we just left," Kleppe said sourly. "There wouldn't have even been a meeting, but for the M'starn presence!"

  "Yes, but that was hardly what the M'starn wanted," Garrett shrugged. "Were you ordered to go by them?"

  "Of course not, but –"

  "People may have gone off and done a number of things, and they may have even run around like headless chooks, but the M'starn haven't made anybody on Earth do anything they wanted, or at least not anyone who's opposing them," Garrett continued, with a slow and superior tone. "They probably never wanted to rule anyway. "

  "And suppose that Roman wants to rule?" Halas continued, in a sour tone.

  "In that event there's possibly a problem," Elizabeth said, "but it also signals the solution. You see, to rule he has to carry a reasonable number
of the people with him."

  "If he defeats the enemy, that should be easy," Halas snorted.

  "Not necessarily," Elizabeth countered. "To have any real effect, to start with he has to come down to Earth to do it."

  "Which makes him accessible," Halas noted.

  "Do you think he wants to rule?" Kleppe asked. "He's said he'll surrender his commission."

  "So did Augustus," Halas noted. "The consulship was voted for many times, but I can't recall Augustus losing. It's surprising how easily you can get revoted when you have total power."

  "His space vehicle and his technology also seriously disturbs the Balance," Kleppe added. "That is a problem."

  "And if he proves to be a problem, then we deal with him," Elizabeth said with a superior smile on her face.

  "How?" Halas shook his head. There was a knock on the door.

  "Elizabeth dear, what do you propose?" Kleppe asked. His face showed clearly that he was worried.

  "It's all a question of the Balance," Elizabeth smiled serenely, as she began to walk towards the door. "That, of course, is what we are supposed to be maintaining anyway."

  "The Roman has disturbed that seriously," Halas warned.

  "Exactly, and the more he disturbs it, the more likely the whole lot can topple like a heap of dominos."

  "Intriguing," Halas commented. "Care to explain how?"

  "Easy!" Elizabeth explained, as she opened the door and began to wheel in the meal trolley. "As we get out of balance, many of the old forces that are constrained by it will become freer. We have to be in a position to nudge them back."

  "And exactly how do we do that?"

  "There are a number of people we can hire to do unpleasant things," Elizabeth said, then she added, "Of course they cost."

  "How much?" Halas asked quickly. The worried strain in his tone indicated that he did not intend to become a major contributor.

  "Are you sure we need to do this?" Kleppe asked in a more doubtful tone, and when Halas looked at him, he added, "I mean, maybe this Roman won't . . ." He stopped under Halas' baleful stare and looked away.

  "We don't have to do anything if he doesn't," Halas said emphatically, "but we may have to get into a position to do so, because if he does, there may not be much of an opportunity."

  "The amount of money isn't really the problem," Elizabeth said. "It's the traceability of it that's the problem."

  "Lorenz here can arrange for money to be untraceable," Halas shrugged.

  "Yes, but that isn't the issue," Elizabeth replied. "Where do we get it from? If it came from us, there would be a very traceable hole in our bank balances."

  "We could have spent it on something else," Halas protested.

  "Yes, we could," Elizabeth replied, "but it would be an awful lot easier if we didn't have to argue that. If our own personal finances were unchanged by events, it would be a better alibi. And there's a very easy way to get the money we need."

  "Which is?" Halas asked doubtfully.

  "I have a very simple plan, Imre," Elizabeth said, as she stood up in front of him, and examined a small decanter. "Anyone for a cocktail?"

  "What?"

  "I'll assume you all want one, on the grounds you usually do. I can see you can't see what to do, although to be fair I've got to admit that I've one piece of information you don't have."

  "And that is?" Kleppe asked curiously.

  "That we've a traitor on the Council," she said simply.

  "A what?" Halas cried, and began to stand up.

  "Sit down and don't panic," Elizabeth remarked. "It's our friend Munro. He's been sending transmissions to Mars. He, probably with Reiner's help, has organized the mining venture the M'starn need."

  "So he's playing both sides against the centre?" Halas said softly. "That rat'd sell his sister if he had one."

  "My my!" Elizabeth taunted. "You almost sound like an Independent."

  "Sometimes they do have a point," Halas offered.

  "Supposing that's true, how does that help us?" Kleppe asked, as he tried to bring the conversation back to the point.

  "Simple," Elizabeth answered. "You, Imre, will convey to Harvey that you know of his treachery, and in principle, it doesn't worry you, provided a small sum can be paid over. I'd say about three million; that's a small sum to Harvey, but it's big enough to make him believe you're there for that reason. He'll understand that. You will deposit the money in three equal accounts, one for each of us. This can be used as campaign funds later, or if anybody wants to pull out, something to provide the luxuries of life that may be difficult to acquire on a pension. I assume untraceable accounts are not a problem?"

  "I shall have three untraceable accounts set up tomorrow, somewhere in the financial system," Kleppe nodded.

  "We then tell Harvey that the Roman has also got some idea of this information, and he plans to expose Munro during his victory speech. That way, Harvey knows its safe until the Roman wins, but as soon as that happens, it's Harvey or the Roman. I think we can leave the next step to Harvey."

  "So that gets rid of the Roman," Halas mused, "but what's to stop Munro finishing us off?"

  "Natasha!" came the simple reply. "As Commissioner for Justice, at the last minute, I'll warn her of the plot, and we'll rush to the scene, only we'll arrive too late. I feel reasonably confident that that'll unleash her. Natasha will probably still be killed by Munro then and there, but if not, then we may have to use some of that money and hire a killer ourselves."

  "How do we do that?" Kleppe asked.

  "I'll take care of that, my dear," Elizabeth smiled. "The gaols still have some suitable material."

  "That's brilliant," Kleppe said, with his voice full of admiration.

  "Thank you, Lorenz dear. Why don't you pour a drink out of the decanter. It's a genuine special. What do you think of the plan, Imre?"

  "It's OK."

  "Just OK?" Elizabeth asked, as she leaned over him in a menacing position. "Will you do it, and promise to do exactly what I want?"

  "I promise," Halas said, with a touch of irritation.

  "Now, here's a little drink for you," she said, as she leaned forward, gently pushed his head back, then poured a rather large lot into his mouth. He coughed and spluttered, and the drink dribbled down the side of his mouth. "Messy table manners," she remarked, as she stepped back, and laughed. "You like it, Imre?"

  "Yes, of course."

  "So, Imre, what do you think of the plan?"

  "You've thought this out very well," Halas said loudly with approval. "I think, perhaps, you see yourself as a Caesar," he muttered to himself.

  "What's that?"

  "Nothing at all," Halas replied hastily.

  Chapter 5

  "Commissioner Halas, how good to see you. Please sit down. A drink?"

  "Mr Munro . . ."

  "Call me Harvey," came the broad reply. "I must say I'm puzzled you want to see me personally. What've I done? I don't think we've committed any particular environmental blunder, but if we have, perhaps I can make things right for you."

  "I thought I'd come and see you, off the record, of course." Halas was determined to control this conversation, and a firm start was required, or so he thought.

  "Of course," Munro said, with a puzzled tone.

  "It would be to your advantage to disconnect any recording devices."

  "Is that so?" Munro said, leaning forward, with an almost aggressive manner. It appeared to him that this environmentalist was about to over-reach himself, and it could be quite amusing to teach him a lesson.

  "Mr Munro, I'll be brief. You'll forgive me for saying so, but you have made a blunder, although it is rectifiable."

  "And what is this blunder?" Harvey asked, as he sat back, his elbow on the desk, and his jaw lightly supported by his thumb.

  "You have sent messages to Mars, which have been intercepted."

  There was a silence, and Munro first went white, his hands began trembling, then suddenly the blood rushed back. "I think th
ere's been a mistake," he said at last.

  "You may like to rethink that statement," Halas replied, "after you read this. It's the text of an intercepted message."

  Munro took the sheet of paper, looked at it, then his eyes raised. His face was distinctly pale. "Where did you get this from?" he asked, his tone a strange mixture of fear and anger.

  "I don't think that matters," Halas replied quietly. "Please, now, don't do anything stupid."

  "You have insurance?"

  "I must reach a phone in four hours," Halas replied, "or the contents of that message, and others, will be handed both to Commissioner Kotchetkova, and to that Roman. Not just any phone, but a special phone, because they are going to ring me. If I do not answer . . ." Halas shrugged, leaving the consequence to Munro's imagination.

  There was a pause, then Harvey Munro looked at Halas evenly and asked, "You mentioned a business proposition. What had you in mind?"

  "Three things," Halas said evenly. "The first is two million fecus for the owners of the information. You see, I am not the owner of that message, and none of that money goes to me."

  "Agreed in principle," Harvey said with a shrug. "I shall need insurance, though, that this is a one off request. It must not go on and on and on."

  "That is an excellent point, I agree, and I shall deal with that in due course," Halas smiled. "The second is that when this war is over, should the Earth win, you will arrange for the assassination of this Roman fossil."

  "Claudius?"

  "Yes. As an aside, this is in your interest, because I believe he has stated that he intends to nationalize the corporations and replace their management. I also suspect that with his superior technology he at least knows that messages have been sent to Mars, although since he's done nothing about it, he can't know the full truth. Anyway, assuming the M'starn are defeated –"