by RJ Johnson
Chapter Sixteen
It only took a few minutes for them to reach the Martian Independence Movement’s main camp. Meade looked around at the dozens of tents and the tattered habitation modules set up all around them. Most of the equipment they were using was reclaimed survival shelter supplies left over from the Coalition’s initial colonization of Mars from a few decades ago.
They approached three stark white habitat modules setup in a triangle in the middle of the camp that was wedged up against a canyon wall. There, Kansas and Emeline were waiting for Meade and Sarah to catch up.
“Step inside my office and we’ll see about how I can help you,” Kansas said. He opened the door to one of the modules, “After you.”
Emeline entered the module ducking her head as she entered. Meade and Sarah followed her in and Kansas closed the module door behind them. Once he closed the door, the interior lighting kicked on and a generator began humming as computers and screens flipped on through the room.
Kansas moved his way to a desk next to a twin bed with its sheets astray and sat down at the desk moving bits of paper out of the way. He placed their pistols and ArmBars down casually on his desk and looked up at them folding his hands in a neat triangle.
“So, I know part of the story,” Kansas began. “Mr. Meade you’re in trouble for being some sort of drug warlord –“
“It’s not true!”
Kansas fixed him with a stare, “This’ll go a helluva lot faster if you don’t repeat things I already know. Anyone worth their salt on this planet knows who the big players in the gap trade are.”
He turned his attention to Sarah, “And you my dear are Ms. Sarah Gonzalez, daughter of the infamous Captain Tom Gonzalez who is currently serving multiple life sentences for his role in the destruction of the Madera and the deaths of the colonists on board.”
Sarah nodded. Kansas turned his attention back to Meade.
“What I’m failing to see however, is what I can do to help either of you out.”
“Show him,” Emeline said.
Meade nodded towards his ArmBar. “I’ll need my ArmBar back.”
Kansas’ eyebrow edged higher in surprise, but he pushed Meade’s ArmBar towards him, “Keep in mind that you make a wrong move there’s a half-dozen men posted outside itching to end you.”
“Peace Kansas, I’m legit,” Meade said. He slowly reached for his ArmBar and slid the computer and felt its familiar weight click into place. He typed quickly on the inputs and pushed his display over to Kansas’s ArmBar.
“I downloaded a file image off of Alexander Laszlo’s ABR that’s heavily encrypted. We think the key to proving Sarah’s father’s innocence lies within that file.”
“How do I fit in?” Kansas questioned. He glanced through the code as he scrolled through the file running across his screen.
Emeline spoke up, “We need your quantum server farm to decode the image without the file decompiling.”
Kansas examined the file for a few moments wordlessly.
“Can you help?” Meade asked, hoping his voice didn’t betray how badly they needed the man and his server farm.
Kansas didn’t answer him. He only stared at the swirling matrix of characters playing out on his screen.
“Kansas, if it helps, we think whatever’s on that image there will also help bring down some pretty big time corruption in the Coalition,” Emeline added. Kansas held up a hand to silence her and stared at Meade.
“Do you have a clue to what you have here?”
Meade shrugged, “Not the slightest. That’s why we’re here. We were hoping you could tell us.”
Kansas closed the display on his ArmBar, stroked his white beard while shaking his head. He was muttering something under his breath.
“What was that?” Meade asked.
“I said you’re a bunch of gotdamn fools and I would’ve done you a favor, if’n I had cut you down outside.”
“What are you talking about?” Meade asked.
“Just looking at this file and the type of encryption used to lock it down tells me you’re into something deep, and a helluva lot more dangerous than anything I want to get involved with,” Kansas said, his voice low and rumbling.
“What are you talking about Kansas?” Emeline asked.
“This file you want decrypted comes direct from the PCC.”
Sarah reacted with horror and slapped her forehead while Emeline groaned audibly. Meade looked around surprised at their reaction.
“What? What’s the problem with the PCC?” he asked.
“The PCC are the Coalitions’ cabal of nerds. They do all the black bag coding the Coalition needs for cyberattacks or… really any high level programming they need done.” Sarah said.
“So what’s the problem? We knew it was connected with the Coalition. Makes sense it was their codenerds who programmed whatever it is on that file.”
“You don’t understand, the PCC have no qualms about killing anyone for even looking at their code,” Emeline added.
“Not to mention anything the PCC coded likely has a trapdoor coded in it to let them know if someone trying to break the file without their OK.” Kansas said.
“You can’t hack it?” Meade challenged.
“Of course I can,” Kansas bristled at the implication. “That’s not the issue. My point is I guaran-damn-tee the second I try anything hinky with that file of yours, that trapdoor of theirs will activate and bring hellfire down on my people and I can’t afford that.”
Meade’s shoulders slunk. Kansas was right, they couldn’t risk bringing the Coalition down on them. It wouldn’t be much of a favor that way.
“I might have another way…” Kansas began.
“I like the sound of that.” Meade said perking back up.
“My people found a zero-day exploit on the SecureCards the Coalition’s been installing in everyone’s ArmBars lately. It’s got a coding vulnerability that allows us to steal processing power from every ArmBar on Mars.”
Emeline looked up, excited, “Even if we did trip the trapdoor, there’d be so many locations pinging the Coalition servers, they’d have no idea where the actual hacking was coming from.”
“Exactly,” Kansas said. “It spreads the calculation out over the five million or so ArmBar processors I have access to. I was hoping to save the zero-day for something else, but…”
“We’d owe you a few favors,” Meade promised.
“Favors don’t cut it for something like this,” Kansas said pointedly.
“How much then?” Meade asked. “We can pay.”
“I’m betting my price is more than you have,” Kansas agreed. “But, there are other ways to clear the ledger.”
Meade cocked his head, “I’m listening.”
Kansas nodded towards Sarah, “Those blue bel… Coalition ArmBars have a lockout on ‘em that prevents my people from being able to hack ‘em. But I got a virus that if I had someone amenable to helping me, could be installed on the Coalition servers that could give me a nice backdoor way in to monitor their communications.”
Sarah shook her head, “No, hell no. I know we need your help, but I’m not selling out the whole Coalition for it.”
Kansas shrugged, “Then I’m afraid we’ve found ourselves at an impasse my friends.”
Meade looked at Sarah and back at Kansas. “What else can we do? What about money?”
Kansas threw his head back and guffawed. “I told you, there’s no way a runabout, bartender and low level Coalition officer has enough to buy the zero-day exploit from me.”
“Try us.”
Kansas stopped laughing at looked at Meade, “One point five million credits.”
Meade’s blood ran cold, he’d never seen that kind of money ever, let alone have that much in order to buy off Kansas.
“That’s an awful lot of money.”
“That file is an awful lot of risk,” Kansas gently reminded him. “I love Emeline and I’d like to help you folk out, but I got my
own people to think about and if breaking into this file brings the PCC and Coalition down on me and my kin, I can’t rightly take that kind of risk without telling ‘em I got something good out of the deal.
“That’s fair Kansas,” Emeline spoke up, “But I don’t think we’ve got a dry nickel between us. I doubt we can afford a million five …”
“That’s not true,” Sarah spoke up, “We got all the money we need.”
“How?” Kansas asked. Meade looked over at her.
“Yeah, how?”
“I should say, you’ve got all the money we need,” Sarah said. She pointed to Meade’s pocket. “You’ve still got Laszlo’s DNA coder. You should be able to access all his casino accounts from your ArmBar.”
A slow grin spread across Meade’s face. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the DNA coder they had liberated from Russo. He plugged it into his ArmBar and access Laszlo’s image still on his ArmBar.
He clicked through the accounts and grinned when he saw the main petty cash account. Plenty to cover Kansas’s fee with enough left over to make for a very entertaining weekend.
“One point five and an extra fifty thou to rig us up with whatever we need,” Meade said.
Laszlo looked skeptical, but he nodded his assent.
Meade inserted the DNA coder into his ArmBar and watched as Laszlo’s accounts for the casino came up. There was a couple million sitting in petty cash. Meade didn’t think Laszlo would miss all that much. He pulled the necessary credits out of Laszlo’s account and pitched them towards Kansas and his ArmBar. Kansas watched the balance in his account increase and he nodded. He stood.
“Follow me.”
He moved towards a hatch and heaved it open. He turned and beckoned Meade, Emeline and Sarah to follow him through the hatch. Meade shrugged, adjusted his hat and followed him through the cramped hatch.
The ceiling was low within the interconnected modules and Meade had to duck the whole way as he followed Kansas through the hallway.
“Where we going?” Meade asked.
“Not too much further, keep going.”
Meade was sweating profusely in the cramped, airless corridor. His claustrophobia, never far from the surface was beginning to wear on his nerves as every thought running through his brain was about how he was trapped and about to die within this mysterious camp of renegades.
He swallowed and he felt the room begin to spin. Suddenly a warm hand grabbed his and he looked up into the crystal blue eyes of Sarah.
“Are you OK?” she asked her eyes wide with concern.
“I ain’t exactly the biggest fan of cramped spaces.”
“You should see him in the mines,” Emeline added.
Sarah squeezed his hand reassuring him again. He felt his strength returning and the walls extended back out to where they were supposed to be instead of closing in around him.
“I’ll be fine,” Meade said. He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince more with that, him or Sarah.
“It’s not far,” Kansas called out. “The server farm is underground.”
“Great, back underground,” the dread returned.
“We use the underground aquifers to help cool our system.” Kansas said leading them through the widening corridor. Meade had to duck as he went through the doorway that served as an airlock between the manufactured modules and the sheer cliff rock the MiM’s had drilled into.
“Lotta work down here for just a few dozen Runabouts like you,” Meade commented.
“It’s amazing what you can accomplish when you put your mind to it,” Kansas said smiling.
Meade grumbled and he moved quietly through the cramped corridor. Just a few more steps and Kansas promised him open air. He swallowed, feeling the cold fingers of the hallway closing in around his throat.
They approached a door and Kansas paused and glanced at Sarah.
“I’m afraid that’s as far as she goes.”
“She goes where we do.”
Kansas shook his head, “Nope, this is non-negotiable. I can’t have a Blue Bell come into where we keep all our sensitive materials.”
“We’re going in,” Meade said firmly. “I paid for enough trust for all four of us.”
Kansas shook his head, “I’ll happily refund the money if it’s an issue, but I wouldn’t be able to keep my people off of her. Trust me, it’s as much for her safety as it is our own.”
Meade was about to protest some more when Sarah clutched his arm, “Jim, it’s OK. I’ll wait for you all out here. Just don’t take too long eh?”
Meade nodded and swallowed, “Anything to get us out of this stupid underground deathtrap.”
Kansas grunted and spun the lock off the door, “Deathtrap? I think you underestimate us Mr. Meade.”
Kansas opened up the airlock door and beckoned them inside. Meade ducked through the low doorway and whistled in amazement at what he saw.
“What? What is it? Whoa…” Emeline was struck dumb the second she climbed through the airlock.
Before them was an enormous cavern carved out of the natural limestone that dotted the Martian landscape. The warehouse (there wasn’t really a better way to put it) was crammed full of supplies from floor to ceiling and ran the length of several football fields.
“This isn’t exactly what I expected.”
“Don’t worry, you’re not the first,” Kansas said with a broad smile across his face. “We’re working on becoming completely independent from the Coalition and that takes supplies. Lots and lots of supplies.”
They walked down the stairway that led into the cavern of supplies. Meade looked at the crates that surrounded them, each stamped with an indecipherable series of numbers and letters – used for inventory control if he had to guess. He paused by one and lifted the canvas flap to see a fully function Coalition MP drone still crated up and looking like it just rolled off the factory floor, he shuddered and dropped the canvas flap down.
“You’ve got stuff here from the original settlement,” Meade said looking around him. The haul around them was so impressive, it had helped him forget completely that they were still underground. “Where did you get all this stuff?”
Kansas shrugged, “Here and there. Most of it we were able to reroute from the Coalition with a few well-placed personnel back on the Homeworld. Put the wrong sticker on an outbound cargo shipment and no one’s the wiser by the time it arrives,” he led them through the maze of containers talking as they walked.
“When we first started out, we stuck to the basics – food, medical, energy supplies that sort of thing. But as more people took up with our cause, the more we got access to. Nowadays, I have to be careful what we steal lest it gets noticed and burn our contacts back home. So far we’ve been careful enough to ahh…” Kansas coughed politely, “liberate enough supplies to last the MiMs for at least five years.”
“Five years?” Emeline asked in disbelief. “What would you need five years’ worth of supplies for?”
Kansas turned and looked at Emeline, “You know just as easily as I do how simple it would be for the Coalition to abandon the colony. I want to make sure we’ve got enough to keep going should the Coalition put up a blockade.”
“You’re really expecting that kind of trouble?” Meade asked suspiciously.
“If the next few years go the way I ‘spect them to, I think we’ll need a hell of a lot more than what I’ve managed to steal, beg, and borrow so far,” Kansas replied. “It’s not a simple world out there and I’m certain the Consortium ain’t done messing with the Coalition yet. That’s why I believe in the fight for Martian independence. We need to make sure we ain’t dependent on the Homeworld for anything but new bodies who want to immigrate.”
“Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out,” Meade said.
Kansas shrugged modestly, “I like to think ahead.”
“Looks like you’ve thought ahead enough for a few thousand people.” Meade commented looking around.
“It’s still
nowhere near enough,” Kansas said. He patted the container nearest him shaking his head, “There are seven million people citizens scattered through New Plymouth alone – not including the random ORI moles out on the plains trying to hit a strike of their own. Plus there’s another couple hundred thousand people scattered around the planet in random dogtowns.”
“You’re really expecting the end of the world?” Emeline said.
Kansas nodded his head, “It happened once already. No reason why it couldn’t happen again.”
“Where’s this server farm?” Meade asked. They didn’t have much time and Emeline would spend all day talking politics with Kansas if he let them.
“This way,” Kansas pointed towards a stack of boxes nearly twenty feet high. They moved quickly and found a small man working at a quantum computer typing furiously smoking a cigarette.
Meade coughed in surprise to see the cigarette hanging from the man’s mouth. Tobacco was rare around these parts, and anyone who had any usually vaporized it. The warm aromatic smoke drifted upwards through the stacks and created a blue haze that hung over the twenty-something hunched over his computer.
“Steven,” Kansas called out. “Time to put your hacker hat on.”
Steven whirled around in his chair to see who was invading his space. He didn’t look at Meade or Emeline in the eye and instead kept his gaze fixed on Kansas.
“I told you that if you bring people in here, it distracts me, and if I’m distracted I can’t do my work, which you said was important, which means that if you bring people in here, I can’t keep the black hats from discovering our location which would really keep me from doing my work.”
Steven whirled back around and began typing furiously, ignoring the trio. Kansas grinned and stepped up and placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder.
“Steve, these are my friends and you’re being rude.”
“I made it clear that you couldn’t bring anyone in here,” Steve whined still typing on the computer. “You promised this would remain an unspoiled sanctum sanctorum for me.”