Cobalt Slave

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Cobalt Slave Page 15

by Walker, Jon


  Councilmember Madison makes a show of carefully considering giving him three seats on the new council before answering, “It sounds like we are very much on the same page.”

  John smiles, happy to see that this seems dealt with for now. He needed an ask that was significant enough to be seen as serious and not raise Councilmember Madison’s suspicions, but modest enough that they wouldn’t waste time squabbling about it or raise the councilmember’s concerns. It takes a careful balancing act. Since they began working together, Councilmember Madison's behavior has made it clear this is only an alliance of necessity, it isn’t a partnership of equals. Negotiating now over who will get what after Madison’s coup is carried out is a waste of time as far as John is concerned. Promises from men like Councilmember Madison are cheap. The real negotiations always take place only after they know where things finally stand, and it is clear who is or is not in a position to make demands.

  John follows up by saying, “I’m personally less concerned about the future and would like to talk more about the near term. Our chances of success would be much higher if you would share more about your plans for actually getting the cobalt stockpile.”

  Councilmember Madison sounds irritated for being pushed on this point again, “As I have told you before, you don’t need to worry about that, John. Every piece of equipment Public Safety uses was either designed, repaired, or built by my people. I know how all of their surveillance systems work. I will know everything they do before they do it. All you need to do is make sure my people have unrestricted use of the sewer lines on the day, provide bodies to keep Public Safety officers tied down, and use your influence to persuade the public that things have changed. It shouldn’t take long. No one is loyal to Director Lee, the people just follow the cobalt.”

  Switching to a subject he is more comfortable talking about, Councilmember Madison adopts a slightly accusatory tone. “That reminds me, there is something I’ve wanted to talk to you about. Your most recent requests for supplies for my garden include a surprising number of ball bearings and significantly more small-diameter, high strength tubing than would seem necessary based on the most recent plans.”

  John coyly answers, “Some of the more dramatic water features in your garden, Councilmember Madison, will be require extremely high pressures.”

  Councilmember Madison gives John a look, “Let's not pretend I’m an idiot.”

  John shrugs and says, “I assure you the items requested will be used in the garden... If there happens to be spare parts left over, I will find good uses for them.”

  Madison answers, “I guessed that. What I’m curious about is how?”

  John’s tone loses all of its former friendliness, “You have your secrets, I have mine. Let’s just say they will be used for persuasion.”

  Madison stares silently and intensely at John who simply looks back at him expressionless, not breaking eye contact. Madison grinds his teeth in frustration, unaccustomed to not getting what he wants, but after a few seconds he relents, deciding this battle is not worth carrying on. The rest of the short ride to the vantage point across the valley is made in uncomfortable silence.

  Once they arrive John pulls out the plans and talks to a mostly silent Councilmember Madison about different features using sweeping hand gestures. After five minutes, an unhappy Councilmember Madison concludes he has put on enough of a show for anyone who may or may not be potentially watching. He gets back in his car and leaves John Snider with a fairly long walk back to retrieve his bicycle where he left it outside the Madison estate.

  ------

  That same day on the continent of Goliath

  Glimpsing the slow-moving water of the river is the most joyous moment a tired and very dirty Mark Corvus has experienced in days. Finding the river with only a map and the alignment of the twin moons to give him a general sense of East-West had proven to be more difficult than Mark had first predicted. He overshot it and only found the river much farther from its source than he planned. Early on, Mark decided to push through the mountains as fast as possible to get to the river. He ended up burning through much more of his food rations than he wanted, but looking at the river, he felt the decision was worth it.

  Mark makes a beeline for the water, whacking through underbrush for a solid twenty minutes before he reaches his goal. Before even setting down his backpack, Mark splashes water onto his face, washing off days of built-up sweat and muck. Pouring the cool water over his head, Mark feels almost human for the first time in weeks.

  From the banks of the river, he could see its path for kilometers. The river very gradually loses elevation and grows wider. The land in that direction transitions fairly quickly from forest to more open savannah. It is exactly how Mark hoped it would look.

  After washing up, Mark removes the emergency raft from his backpack. Slowly and carefully he breaks the seal and lays it out in the center of a small clearing by the water. He first says a short prayer before pushing the button to activate it. It works perfectly. The raft quickly unfolds before him into a spacious, curved triangle. Incredibly light and strong, it looks as perfect as the day it was packaged. Mark screams in triumph before crying with joy. It seems the hard part is over and his gamble paid off.

  Now that he knows the raft actually works, Mark finds two long sticks to shape into steering poles. Once the sticks are ready, he begins working on the fishing line. He first cuts three short segments and ties two hooks on each. He baits each hook with something different -- a piece of leaf, several types of local bugs he found, and some of his food rations -- to see what will work. Once everything is ready Mark launches his new craft into the water and lets it carry him for a relaxing ride. The next two hundred kilometers of his path are downstream along this river. For several days he can let the current do all the work, both moving him and getting him food. At long last, this is his chance to rest and recover.

  Propped up against the raft with his backpack, Mark watches the trees overhead slowly move by. The peaceful scene and the soft rocking of the raft are hypnotic. Mark, unaware of just how tired he is, unexpectedly drifts off.

  BOOM. Mark is violently awakened by something loudly slamming into the side of the raft. When he looks over, he sees the head of a large creature less than a meter from his face. It vaguely looks like a giant, hairless dernbeast armed with giant tusks. Panicking, Mark reaches for his crossbow and shoots at the monster. With a bolt lodged firmly into its back, the thing lets out a powerful grunt Mark can feel in his chest. For a second it retreats back into the water. His heart pounding, Mark scans the water to see if the animal is gone while he clumsily tries to reload. Suddenly, a massive head shoots up in a spray of water directly in front of Mark. Its huge mouth locks on to the front of the raft. Mark is forced to quickly swing his right leg away to prevent it from being crushed by one of its tusks. The material of the raft is incredibly strong, so it slows the creature for a moment, but it was never designed to withstand this level of crushing force. It starts cracking and tearing as the creature bites down harder.

  Mark drops the still unloaded crossbow and powered by a flood of adrenaline takes his big knife from his side and jabs it with all his strength in the monster’s left eye. The hard metal goes straight through the eye and sticks into the animal's thick skull. The creature lets out a deep growling scream before disappearing into the water. As it goes down, the monster tears off the front of the raft, taking it and the knife still in its eye deep into the water with it.

  Mark jumps off the rapidly sinking raft towards the shoreline. Luckily he fell asleep with his backpack straps still on, so it comes with him. He only needs to swim a few meters to reach the water's edge. As soon as he is out of the river Mark stops to look back to see if he is safe. Staring at the water, he sees the light of the setting sun reflect off half a dozen huge eyes, making it look like they're glowing with fire as they move in his direction. Mark runs as fast as he can towards the small rise containing several decent-sized trees. Back aga
inst one of the trees prepared to climb at a moment's notice, Mark looks back towards the river. Two massive lumbering creatures have gotten out of the water at roughly the spot Mark ran from. They are both slightly smaller than the one that attacked him, but they must weigh at least a ton. Neither of these two animals have tusks, but they are clearly the same species. The two creatures snort, groan and stomp around for a few minutes before deciding to slip back into the water. Mark breathes a sigh of relief as he watches them both disappear into the river. Back in their element, the massive animals practically disappear. Only two eyes and a nose stick above the surface.

  Now down a crossbow, a raft and his larger knife, Mark realizes that he is going to walk the whole way. Too scared to leave this spot this close to dusk, Mark uses his rope and tarp to build a crude hammock high up between the trees. There he spends a mostly sleepless night.

  CHAPTER 21

  Director Terence Lee sits at the head of the monthly Council meeting. He is wearing a light blue suit with an ornately patterned blue tie. It is a new fashion concept that he and his tailor have been experimenting with, inspired by a 19th century designer. While the director thinks the look is both inspired and gorgeous on him, it is not very comfortable for long periods of sitting. So the director sounds both relieved and irritated when he gets to the last item of business, “Finally, we have the economic status report from Councilmember Derek Lee. Would you please try to keep it short, Uncle, I’m sure all of us are hungry for lunch.”

  A flustered Derek Lee looks over this tablet, trying to decide what to highlight and what to skip. “Yes, Director, I will try... let's see. Well, you all have the report, but the highlights are... hmm... Thanks to optimal weather, the most recent cereal harvest was 13 percent better than expected… New equipment problems have reduced timber production on Muir by 26 percent but hopefully repairs will be able to restore some of the equipment for next year. A fishing vessel sank earlier this month during a storm, there was only one survivor. What I really…"

  Jack Moore, a sub-department head in Aeronautics, interrupts Derek Lee mid-thought. “Sorry, but how does some idiot drown in that?” Jack says while pointing to the blue, perfectly calm waters of the natural harbor.

  After looking over his report Derek Lee answers, sounding a little annoyed, “Well… It was a special fishing vessel to catch Rainbow fins for something called su-shi.” Derek stumbles over the pronunciation of the unfamiliar word. This unusual piece of news piques the director’s curiosity and causes him to sit up straight. The director had heard about sushi recently but dismissed it as seemingly gross and lazy. From what he was told, all the "chef"-- to use the term generously-- does is cut a slab of raw meat into nice looking squares. As a result, the director previously had no interest in sushi, but if it is something that people are literally dying to make, it might be worth a try.

  While the director is distracted with mentally planning his lunch, his uncle continues to talk, “So the ship apparently needed to fish in the open ocean where it got caught in a storm. That's not really important, though. What I really want to talk about is the cobalt black market. Unauthorized sources of vitamin B-12 have dried up recently. The black market prices have gone up significantly when there is some available. If this continues, even many of the young healthy defiants will start dying in the coming months.”

  Tricia Johanson of Nutrition responds, dismissive of what sounds like a possible encroachment on her turf, “And so what? All it means is some of the trash dies quicker.”

  Derek Lee scowls and answers condescendingly, “Because like it or not, the still-healthy defiants are now doing a lot of the unpleasant jobs that keep everything running around here.”

  “If we had approved my robotics project seven years ago, we could easily afford to just let them die,” Leo Madison interjects, using this moment to take a dig at the rest of the Council over one of his oldest grievances.

  The director points his finger at Madison and gives him an unhappy look that makes it clear they are not going to spend time rehashing old business. “What I want to know is why this is happening?”

  “Well there are some theories…” Derek Lee starts to say before he is interrupted.

  “It is pretty obvious,” Leo Madison answers, “Do you really think this room can keep a secret?” After that line, Madison pauses for a moment to try to read the faces of every other Council member for hints of discomfort before continuing. “While regular people probably don’t know exactly what our plans are, rumors get out. They know something big is going on with the shuttles. So they are scared and naturally squirrelling away their extra rations. I noticed it starting weeks ago. That's how I knew it was a great time to start work on my new garden."

  Catherine Moore answers with a raised eyebrow, “New garden?”

  Leo Madison exhibits his most boastful smile. “A magnificent water garden. I’m promised it will be the finest in the world.”

  Derek Lee answers slightly perplexed, “Well, I guess that is one way to go. My department is monitoring this. I would just recommend everyone using their personal allotments to take on a few more menials or start a project until this current panic has subsided and things return to normal.”

  A few Council members look like they are about to speak, but the director is already standing to indicate he's done. The director quickly says, “Good advice. Unless there any objections, I call this meeting to a close.”

  ------

  Immediately after an exchange of pleasantries at the end of the meeting, the director and Anthony Chan, head of Public Safety, quietly retreat to the director's office to discuss what just transpired. The director snacks on a bowl of candied almonds as he waits for lunch while Anthony enjoys a glass of brandy.

  The director asks, “You don’t happen to have any new intelligence on Aeronautics, do you? They were surprisingly quiet today.”

  Anthony answers slightly annoyed, “Even after that deal you cut with them, you still don’t trust them.”

  “As our grandmother said, trust is only wishful thinking for those without leverage,” the director answers.

  Anthony shrugs while taking a large sip from his glass, “It is their compound and their people. Not much more I can do. Frankly, I’m not worried about them. They are a very small department, they need us, and we have all the muscle.”

  The director nods, “And what do you think about Madison’s 'not being able to keep a secret' quip? Any indications he knows something?”

  “You watch too many old spy movies. Madison is just fishing. All he cares about is his fancy toys,” Anthony says dismissively.

  The director answers, “I guess. I don’t like how that greedy bastard is already rubbing my face in the fact that he has us over a barrel during the shuttle overhaul. Bringing up a request rejected years ago, and what is this grand water garden of his, anyway? I want to know everything I can about it."

  Anthony answers, “Will do.”

  “Good, I also want to talk more about your plan for getting our part of the stockpile from the landing site to the vault. If rumors really have gotten out, it might be wise to change things,” the director says.

  Anthony sits up. He does his best to sound respectful, but he is clearly annoyed to be talking about this again. “With all due respect, I don’t think there is much to talk about. We will use the same procedure we have for the past century. Simply load it into the armed truck and escort it with full detail directly back to the palace on one of the randomly selected routes.”

  “Still, it concerns me,” the director grumbles.

  Anthony grabs his tablet and opens up a program before continuing. “Every other department has… between a dozen to two dozen guards with stunsticks or guns -- all of them registered and tracked.” Anthony makes a point of showing the icons to the director. "Even if we include all the hunting rifles owned by frontier families, which are way outside the city, that is still only another… 87 weapons. Again, all registered, tracked and equippe
d with remote overrides. No one can challenge the delivery escort. There is a reason why the protocol was created and why we still use it -- because it works.”

  The director is forced to reluctantly accept his argument. Anthony is an uncreative hammer, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t sometimes the best tool for the job.

  ------

  Several weeks later on the continent of Goliath

  Something bright orange catches Mark's attention among the grasses and bushes that dominate the savannah-like stretch of untouched wilderness. Slowly he walks over to investigate using his simple wooden spear as a walking stick. His deeply tanned face is protected by a crudely made straw hat.

  As Mark gets closer he sees a set of dark green shrubs all bearing numerous orange, oblong-shaped objects. He picks one off a bush and carefully inspects it in his hand. It is about the size of his little finger with smooth, squishy skin. It definitely appears to be some local fruit but one unlikely Mark ever saw on Prime. His grumbling stomach demands he gorge himself on all these small exotic fruits, but Mark uses all his willpower to fight against this impulse. While it is unlikely any native plant would be truly toxic, even ones that merely functioned as a strong laxative could create a life threatening situation all alone out here. So Mark starts by squeezing the fruit against a section of his left forearm to see if there is any reaction. If after twenty minutes there is no rash, he will slowly escalate to touching the juice to his lips, then chewing it slightly before spitting it out. Only if all of those basic tests work, will he then try eating a single piece. As he waits to see if his forearm starts to burn or tingle, Mark starts to pick the rest of the orange berries in case they do prove edible.

  While hunched over one of these short bushes, Mark notices something -- more specifically, he notices a lack of something. The land has gone quiet. The normal sounds of small creatures going about their business have stopped. Carefully, Mark clutches his short spear as he stands upright to scan his surroundings. It doesn’t take long to see it. A pair of black eyes stare at him from behind a small bush. The dark eyes are set close together, the universal trait of predators which need good depth perception to hunt. Behind the eyes are large ears, folded against the body for stealth.

 

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