“Through the net of course.”
“That’s supposed to be secured.”
The worker made a motion to disconnect the communications network video feed.
“Don’t.”
“Why not?” asked the worker in a matter of fact way.
“I need to talk to you.”
“OK, but why don’t start by telling me who you are?”
“Don’t you recognize me?”
“No.”
“Well . . .”
“What’s your name?”
“Balazar,” said the Gallant/Balazar avatar, stepping forward and performing a slight bow.
The worker stood and bowed in return. “So tell me why you’re calling at this time.”
“I’ve a proposition for you from the Resistance.”
“The Resistance?” asked the bewildered worker who was now becoming agitated—his hands and feet started twitching nervously. “That would be wrong. Wrong.”
“So you’ve heard of us?”
“I’m not saying anything.”
“I’ve something for you. Money. Lots of money.”
“That would be wrong. I can’t do wrong things. No, it would be wrong.”
“Too late, I’m afraid. Look at your bank balance.”
“My bank what?”
“Go ahead?”
He opened a virtual screen on his computer and accessed his banking records.
“What? What? That’s not possible.”
“It’s possible alright. A fortune was dumped into your account just minutes ago. You’re now officially a member of the Resistance.”
“You must get out. This is wrong. You must disconnect.”
“Too late. Here is your assignment.” The avatar downloaded a detailed report to the worker’s computer.
“Carry out these orders in the next daily cycle and no one will be alerted to your recent good fortune. Otherwise, I foresee many questions for you, being asked in the most unpleasant ways, by the dreaded secret police, the Kamchatka.”
“This can’t be happening. It’s wrong, very wrong. I will be punished,” he said as he began rocking back and forth.
“Do as you are ordered and you won’t be punished. I’ll check back with you very soon.”
The Gallant/Balazar avatar disconnected.
***
The victims that had not reported the initial bribe were now trapped. They couldn’t report the large deposit of money without answering questions to the Kamchatka about why they hadn’t reported the first two small deposits. The fictitious Resistance now owned these individuals.
Gallant sent them private messages thanking them for their support of the Resistance. Their fear of the secret police left them no recourse but to follow the Resistance’s orders.
And the Resistance turned out to be quite an ambitious organization. It ordered an admiral’s aide to initiate a bomb scare on a military base. An aide to governor was ordered to put out phony press releases saying an area was under martial law. Media personnel leaked stories of insurrection.
After two weeks, Gallant caught a civilian dispatcher for military messages in his trap. He ordered him to send copies of all reports to Balazar which Gallant translated and recorded.
***
Using the resources of his coerced recruits, Gallant created a counterfeit account and hacked into a secret military database. Stealing secrets wasn’t easy, but he masterly contrived to secure what he could. One top secret document he found showed the inner circle of the ruling class. The assumptions he made to interpret the information were consistent with his own world view.
He found that there were nine ruling families that divided up the different planets. A majority of families had formed an alliance to attack Earth. The remaining families were opposed to the war.
After the autistic savant general Voltary died, he left behind a power vacuum in the Gliese system that was filled by a series of dictators, all of whom were direct descendants of the god-like general. At present, the only remaining direct heir was too young to rule, so a council of regents was appointed. The shifting alliances of the nine families formed the key political players.
The families were identified by particular DNA sequences and hatchery production batches and maintained a strong loyalty. Within this insular and xenophobic society, they patiently placed themselves in advantageous positions and at the same time manipulated everyone else around them. The fickle loyalties of the various family factions played havoc with their civilization. The passions of the citizens mingled with leaders, diplomats, assassins, and spies and changed as their political plans did. Their fate collided in epic conflicts of brutality, betrayal, and forbidden passions.
The council of regents that ruled the star system was dominated by two of the most powerful families—the Nihilsan and Falsersan —who fought for control over the declining council. An intense power struggle between them resulted in violence and political maneuvering. The Nihilsan had recently kidnapped many members of each family whom it kept as hostages. As long as they had these hostages, the other families did not dare to attack them.
Gallant believed that was a crucial piece of information.
The Titans didn’t seem wired for overly emotional responses, but they did have basic emotional instincts and highly valued family hierarchy which did play a strong role in their society. It might be possible to exploit the internal rivalries and feuds among families even if the Titans would rather die than compromise.
Gallant wrote an AI program to continue collecting information while he was off-line. The recent experience had been pretty intense and he was lost in the intoxicating reverie of accumulating ideas. During this process, he felt a vague tingling sensation and after the frantic hours of hacking through information, he began to slow down. It was painful to stay connected to the network this long and he was developing a headache and was having trouble concentrating. It was time to disconnect.
Once back aboard the Warrior, Gallant experienced a tranquility of spirit that restored his strength and sustained him. The expedition had been successful, but costly. He hadn’t extracted all that he wanted, but the haul was sufficient enough to merit a satisfied smile. He was calm. He felt he had reaped far more than what he’d sacrificed. He wandered back to his stateroom and sat alone in his one chair.
***
A few days later the Gallant/Balazar avatar gave a string of orders to a bank clerk about sending more funds to the Resistance’s constituents.
The clerk was much taller and leaner than most Titans. He tended to bend forwards when he walked to avoid any possibility of striking an overhead beam in his single room habitat. His expression indicated that he did not welcome the avatar’s intrusion since it was time for the clerk’s meditation.
The clerk said, “Why must you always make demands of me? Can’t you get help elsewhere?”
Before Gallant could devise a suitable reply, he heard a creak from the outside hallway. The commotion of many footsteps followed. Then the apartment door burst open. Half dozen burly Titans in flak jackets fanned out into the small room, guns drawn, and hilly clubs out.
The clerk opened his mouth to yell in terror, but his dry mouth produced only a parched, “Aha . . .”
The Gallant/Balazar avatar stood still, simmering in the hallway light that flooded into the room. Gallant knew he was sticking his neck out by not immediately disconnecting, but he wanted to know how the secret police operated and this was his first chance to see them in action. Since he knew his network signal was untraceable, he kept the connection open and observed the police raid. With their attention focused on the clerk, the police ignored the avatar.
“I’ve done nothing wrong, I’m innocent,” pleaded the clerk.
The six squat powerful Titans were wearing black uniforms and metal helmets. They had a variety of weapons at the ready. They gave him a shove and stripped him. Then they searched his clothes and the apartment thoroughly. Fumbling in the cold damp air he sto
od wrapping his arms about himself.
“There is no need for violence. I surrender,” the clerk stammered and he shoved one of the officers back.
Unfortunately, the secret police knew how to respond to defiance. They possessed a ruthlessness all their own. The six officers gave their victim a severe going over with zest and a joy all its own. The entire squad assaulted him. Six hilly clubs found their individual target on the clerk’s body. Then they began ramming their fists into his face and stomach. He fell to the floor while they stomped on his back.
He cried, “Oww, Oho, Ahh . . .” with diminishing volume. They left his limp body on the floor bruised and bleeding from dozens of injuries. His nose was broken, most of his teeth lay on the floor, there were welts over most of his body, and he was bleeding green fluid from his mouth, nose, and eyes. It was going to be some time before the clerk would look presentable again.
Gallant thought, He’s discovered the bitter price of being a member of the Resistance.
The clerk asked, “What are the charges?”
The beating intensified and they continued to pelt him with punches. The police were enthusiastic in their work. His limp body stopped moving.
It was a few minutes before the clerk regained consciousness.
The meanest looking of the six policemen said, “I am a Major in the Kamchatka Police. You will address me respectfully, by my rank.”
“Yes, Major.”
“What is your classification?”
“I am a third class clerk at the Midtown Bank. I have done nothing, Major. What am I accused of?”
“I’ll ask the questions, prisoner.”
“Yes, Major.”
“Are you willing to cooperate and tell me what you know?”
Had the clerk been an actual criminal, he might have gone willingly to his fate, but since he was ignorant of not only the evidence the secret police possessed, but of any criminal act, as well, his punishment was hard to bear.
He said, “Oh, yes, Major. Anything you require.”
“You have given us a lot of trouble. It was difficult to trace the Resistance financial transactions to the Midtown Bank, and then to you. But now I have you.”
“Oh no. No.”
The major smacked the clerk across the face with his gloved hand, knocking him to the floor. The clerk was not going to easily escape from this predicament.
“I told you to address me with respect.”
The clerk got up on his knees and said, “Yes, Major. Yes, Major.”
“Don’t play the fool with me. I know you were very clever to skim money from the bank and divert it to the Resistance. I want to know how you did it and who you are working with. Is that clear?”
“But, Major, I can’t.”
Again a smack knocked the clerk to the floor.
“But Major, I don’t know who I work for. But you can ask him,” pointing to the avatar.
The major looked at the avatar with interest for the first time.
“Who are you?”
“I am Balazar, computer programmer third class. Unfortunately Major, I have very little information to assist you since. I did not initiate this call and I do not know the defendant. He called me and was in the process of soliciting me to join some secret organization. He offered to give me money. I refused, of course, and was about to disconnect and report him to the proper authorities when you arrived. Naturally, I wanted to remain connected in order to report to you fully about this criminal’s activities and offer my complete cooperation. Here is my ID and my call address.”
The major looked over Balazar’s credentials, skeptically while the clerk shook all over.
“I’m a member of the Nihilsan family. I’m sure you can appreciate that.”
The Major’s attitude immediately changed, a more consolatory expression replaced his scowl.
He said, “Your story has the ring of truth, but I shall include your name for future interrogation. You may disconnect for now.”
“Thank you, Major. I’m always happy to be of service to the Kamchatka.
***
“Damn,” said McCall, pounding her fist on the wardroom table. “Admiral Collingsworth was afraid of this very thing. He knew we had a very slim technology lead and if we weren’t quick in exploiting it, the Titans might catch up.”
Gallant said, “All I’ve found so far are reports on experimental tests, no actual ship operations.”
“You said there were prototypes,” said Roberts.
“A few prototypes, but I haven’t found indications of FTL ships in production.”
“Not yet, but they must be getting close. Can you translate some of the technology details and compare them to our Warp drive?”
“I’ve read their Warp Field Mechanics report and other research papers. They’ve discovered the Alcubierre warp drive solution to the Einstein field equations.”
Roberts frowned.
“How close are they to a serviceable drive?” asked McCall.
Gallant said, “Our FTL engines use dark matter to configure the warp bubble and create negative energy. It’s the shifting of the bubble configuration that contracts space in front of the ship and expands space behind it which makes the ship move at orders of magnitude higher than the speed of light. They seem to be getting close to understanding that.”
McCall asked, “How much progress are they making with their experiments?”
“There is evidence of two, twenty megaton explosions at what is left of their FTL research facilities,” said Gallant.
McCall looked puzzled.
Roberts explained, “If the containment field fails, the subsequent interaction of the dark matter fuel with the negative energy would result in a catastrophic explosion on that order of magnitude.”
Gallant said, “We keep our dark matter isolated by a Higgs containment field at negative temperatures and pressures. It’s the Alcubierre solutions that let us calculate the right amount of dark matter to configure the energy density field. Without the right solution all you get are big bangs, as it seems the Titans have discovered.”
“But you think they’re on track to eventually get the right solution.”
“If they keep at it—yes.”
***
It was Stedman’s idea to create a weapon for the avatar, but Gallant and Howard were puzzled about what they could achieve using the video feed over the network. Stedman proposed overloading the audio and video signal to create a static charge in the vicinity of the avatar projection and then move the avatar near something that might react with it. It wouldn't actually do much physical harm, but the fireworks display might be impressive.
“Could work,” concluded Howard, nodding thoughtfully.
They had the sensor techs rig up a device to attach to the communication junction box next time they went on a mission. Gallant hacked the video feed signal so that it would display the image of a gun in the hand of the avatar. It was set to emit a loud noise and a brilliant flash of light when he pressed the trigger. It would appear as if his simulated weapon was shooting a dangerous beam. He expected that an avatar that looked like it could carry out a lethal attack would come as a great surprise to the Kamchatka. While the weapon itself was harmless, the special visual effects might be enough. He was eager to try it out.
The major sent Balazar a message ordering him to come to headquarters for more question. Gallant intercepted the message and let his avatar drop by the major’s residence instead.
Gallant hot-wired a connection into the major’s residence. When the avatar appeared in the room, he began inspecting everything in plain sight, but like so many Titans the room was meticulously clear and uncluttered. He hacked into some correspondence on the Major’s email server addressed to the Kamchatka Police. He downloaded everything and then he turned his attention to a locked safe. He copied the logo and insignia for the Kamchatka.
He was about to disconnect when a faint noise found his ears. He felt thwarted and short-tempered, he
cursed his poor timing. It was the major returning home.
“Greetings, Major,” said the Gallant/Balazar avatar.
“You?” scowled the major. “What do you want here?”
“I came to say hello,”
The major said, “I wanted you to come to my office in person. It’s improper to interrogate a prisoner in my home.”
“Am I to be arrested?”
“I was going to question you further about the bank clerk.”
“Please ask your questions now.”
“This is not standard routine.”
The avatar shrugged.
“Very well. You claim the clerk called you, but our records show he was the one who received a call. However, there was no trace of where it came from, or who it might have been.”
“What makes you think that was my call?” Gallant didn’t like being questioned by an expert. He was unable to think of a fitting retort.
“There were no other calls the entire day.”
The avatar shrugged, once more.
“I’ve also run a background check on you. You are not of the Nihilsan family.”
“Alright Major, I guess it’s time for me to come clean.”
“Huh?”
“I’m confessing. I’m a member of the Resistance. In fact, I am the leader of the local cell in this city. I’m here to recruit you.” One thing was certain, if he could recruit the major the Resistance would do well.
“So you are not the innocent bystander you pretend to be?”
“Not at all. I am leader of a cell determined to end the rule of villains like Kamchatka. You’re a professional torturer, a thug who maims and kills citizens, as much for pleasure, as duty. Sit down.”
The major didn’t move—displaying a brutish bravado.
Gallant read his eyes, but being an avatar Gallant was unable to deliver a fitting beating to the muscle man.
He turned his attention to a locked safe. “Open it.”
“Your don’t frighten me.”
“You’re a brass hat in the secret police a great find for the Resistance.”
Commander Henry Gallant (The Henry Gallant Saga Book 4) Page 15