Colonel Ellis addressed the group of infoterrorists. “Just stay out of trouble, okay? Don’t leave your allowed perimeter, and don’t come back here.”
“But I’ve figured it out! I have to tell the governor! I know how to save us!”
“Just let us handle it,” Ellis said. “And don’t try anything. Bad things, you know the drill.” And with that, Ellis turned and headed back through the checkpoint to the situation room.
Battle Armor
Sonia was getting ready. She was due in the resource room shortly, to provide the latest results to Lobeck, although she knew her findings would be ignored. Then she planned to stay there and on the bridge, until the D6 was deployed, or not.
On Sonia’s request, her dark suit jacket had been pressed. The creases were perfectly straight, the fabric unblemished by a wrinkle or even a single spot of lint. Her white shirt and charcoal slacks, similarly pressed and in prefect presentation.
She checked her nails once again. Buffed evenly and coated with a coat of clear polish. Short, in the style of people who sometimes still use a keyboard.
Now for her hair. She expertly applied the stylant until each and every strand was in place. Then just a little makeup.
Sonia regarded herself in the mirror. When in her accustomed habitat, she was a powerful force, and her appearance summed this up. She could and did go toe to toe with anyone in her field. She was incisive, she was intolerant of foolishness or lack of rigor.
She needed one more item. The talisman.
Sonia turned the gun in her hands. For a toy, it was amazingly realistic. She might never know how her daughter Simone had come to possess it. The scanners at the entrance to the bridge were no problem, Sonia knew from a prior experiment. She put the toy in her pouch.
What was it like to experience a blaster? The fire spread quickly to cover all of your skin, finding its way under any clothes. Your hair vanished in a flash, your eyes cooked, ineffectual hands melting into your face. She had seen it portrayed in plenty of movie scenes. It was a favorite shot for the creators of action stories. Were the portrayals exaggerated?
Sonia was going to find out.
She was Essential. On the list, of people considered critical to the fortunes of Affirmatix. A free pass, to let it happen and walk away, to go home to her domestic family.
“Please forgive me,” she asked her domestic family across the light-years.
It was not just that she would be gone. If only that was all. Yvette would pull up her big girl pants and carry on. She was such a great mother to their children. The kids would grieve, but luckily they were young enough that the memory of one missing parent would fade from their lives.
The problem was the consequence. Sonia was planning to take down Affirmatix with her. A terrorist attack. And Sonia’s domestic family would pay dearly.
She could face the fire. Just like she could face any truth. It was what she needed to do. The worst possible death was not what came from a blaster. It was knowing that she would doom her wife and children at the same time.
It was time. Sonia took a last look at the mirror. Was that a hair out of place? No. She was seeing things. Casting about for something else that needed to be done before she left her cabin.
When she arrived at the bridge, she would have to carefully check the angles once again. Last time, she could easily see the spot. The right place, so that when she appeared to draw a gun, and was herself immolated, the blasts would take out the control console. The one place where Lobeck had concentrated all of the authority to initiate the D6.
After the console was destroyed, would Lobeck be able to reset command to another location? Sonia would not be there to see it. With enough time, he surely could do so, which was why she needed to choose the exactly right moment. The window of time when all twenty ships had started their energy buildup, and the weapon would need to be discharged within a minute or less.
It wasn’t likely to work. She was probably sacrificing herself and those she loved for nothing. Turning away from the free pass. But there was no other path.
Sonia headed for the bridge.
The Great Symmetry
The five former guests had been unceremoniously dumped outside the Situation Room and left to their own devices.
The Situation Room was only a few hundred meters away, but it might as well be in another universe. “So close,” Kate told herself.
Evan came to Kate’s side. “What have you got?” he asked.
“What does it matter now? We’ll never get back in, and we needed to be there.”
“Let’s hear it. Then we’ll decide what we can do. Walk this way.” He indicated the hallway in front of them, away from the guard station.
Kate gathered herself. “Here’s my idea. Paul Ricken’s ship is coming, and it’s bringing a big, big story,” she told him. “About a Versari discovery, from the site on Green.”
Evan had the look that she knew so well. Lips pressed slightly together, eyes focused on empty space a half meter in front of him. The look that conveyed to her that every neuron in his brain was on the problem.
“The glomes!” he exclaimed. “The same chart that I decoded on Aurora! But how−?” Kate could see the wheels turning for him. “We need to look at this from every angle – it calls for a true skeptic. And I’ve got just the person.” Evan motioned Mira to join them. “Mira, please come here a moment,” he said.
Mira wheeled over. “Can’t think of anything else useful to do,” she allowed. “Make it good.”
“There is a ship that is likely to arrive in Kelter, from Green, within the hour,” Kate said. “An independent, trading in music, movies, books, news. Taking a courier fee for any of it which has not yet arrived at each destination.”
Mira took the role of cross examiner. “So, they will be doomed too, the moment they arrive. There will be no escape for them.”
“Except for one circumstance,” Kate replied. “If they bring into the system a blockbuster news story, of a Versari discovery on Green. A chart listing the destinations of thousands of hyperspace glomes. The moment they arrive insystem, we must have instructions waiting for them, to relay that story.”
Mira nodded slightly. “That’s almost plausible. The cat would be out of the bag, all over civilization by now, so Kelter wouldn’t matter anymore. But how will we get the story to them, in a manner that Affirmatix won’t be able to read?”
Tough questioning, but fair. Kate was fine with that. “Rod Denison has a tearoff code, that can be read on that ship.”
“This ship is a partner?”
“No, a rival,” Kate told Mira. “Still, they will be able to read it.”
“Affirmatix will have blockaded incoming glomes by now, so that ships will not be able to come to Kelter.” Mira still looked deeply skeptical.
Evan looked like he could barely contain himself. He started to speak, but then held himself back, signaling for Kate to continue.
“Not from Green, not yet. It takes too long to get there. Straight shot from Green to here, but six hops to get there from Aurora. Three days or more, and such a low traffic system that it would be a low priority.”
Mira pondered for a moment. “Well, even a blind chicken finds a grain of corn every so often,” she said. She took a quick look around, then continued, “Kestrel, I’ve got a job for you. We’re going to need to take over the government transmission network. Easy, right?”
As Mira and Kestrel delved into the details, the plan grew more and more complex. Simultaneous actions, against multiple cyber targets, all sketched together in just a few minutes. For the plan to succeed would require inattention on the part of government staffers, as well as a huge measure of luck.
Kate grew increasingly uneasy. She saw Evan track the conversation, following every word. Finally he appeared to come to a decision. “Stop, you two,” he said. “This isn’t how to do it. This won’t work without the help of the Kelter government. We need to convince the governor, and to do
that we need to get back in.”
“That I can do!” Kestrel exclaimed, looking relieved. “Just a little prep. So much easier than attacking their entire network.”
“How soon can you be ready?” Evan asked.
Kestrel considered for a moment. “About twenty minutes. Who needs to get in?”
“I’ll just slow you all down,” Mira said, “and I’ll stick out like a sore thumb. For that reason, I’m out.”
“And this is the moment where I must say that I am too old for this,” Axiom put in.
“Ok, three of us,” Kestrel said. “You guys figure out what you’re going to say, and I’ll make a call for a few items. We especially need some camo. Find a place where we can change clothes.” He turned to his phone and hurried away.
Fifteen minutes later, Kestrel was back, carrying a bundle. “All right, we’ll need to put these on.”
Evan, Kate, and Kestrel ducked into a small meeting room they had found, and they checked out their respective new clothes. “I was expecting something more official, like a uniform,” Kate observed.
“This is the uniform of the situation room,” Kestrel told them. “It’s called Business Casual. The staff in the situation room is ninety five percent contractors, and this is what they wear. Anyway there’s no doubt we’ll be recognized at some point, and that’s the moment we’ll have to make the most of.”
In a few minutes they were ready to set out, and emerged back into the hallway where Mira and Axiom awaited. Kestrel was finishing up with some instructions. “Walk purposefully and try to look like you’re concentrating on something important. When we pass people, acknowledge them briefly if they look at you, but don’t slow down.”
“I can’t believe I’m not doing this part,” Mira said, looking up from her wheelchair.
“We’ll just have to get by without your people skills,” Evan replied.
Kate couldn’t tell if Mira’s response was a grimace or a smile. “It’s your show now,” Mira told them. “You’ve got this.”
As Evan and Kate set out to follow Kestrel, Mira called out to them, “And guys −”
They turned to look at Mira, who seemed to be holding herself back from wheeling their way by sheer effort of will.
“Just − fly casual.”
The trio followed a route that Kestrel clearly knew very well. No human guards stood in their way, just gates with electronic locks. In a few places Kestrel instructed them to take certain exact steps, or turn aside from a camera placement. He had placed a kind of tape over their Stewart monitors, which evidently masked their signal.
Just before one door, Kestrel warned them, “There will be people in this next section. Remember what I said. When in doubt, look worried, in a kind of distant way.”
It turned out that the area was well populated, which Kate quickly realized was an advantage. Anonymity in numbers. After they passed two different groups without incident, they relaxed and it felt oddly like walking around in any office building on a normal work day.
Finally Kestrel pointed at a door as they stood in a narrow service corridor. “On the other side of that,” he told them, “you’ll be about twenty meters from the command center. Then it will be up to you. There’s nothing more I can do for you, so I’m going to stay back here.”
“I can’t believe you could do this so easily,” Evan observed.
“The government has been complacent,” Kestrel replied. “For decades, perhaps they have known that their only enemies mean them no harm.”
As Kate and Evan stepped out into the open space of the Situation Room, everything seemed to happen at once. The piercing alarms. Soldiers appearing out of nowhere, seizing their arms. The mystified look on the face of Colonel Ellis as she repeatedly sent commands to a wrist control, clearly expecting some calamity to be visited upon them from their Stewart monitors.
The governor arrived. “What is the meaning of this?” It was a rhetorical question.
“Governor, you need to hear this,” Evan told him. “It might be the most important thing anyone ever tells you.”
“They have caused us nothing but grief,” Erickson declared, starting to lead Rezar back to the heart of the command center. “I have the deployable asset inventory ready for your review.”
A cloud of advisors accrued around the governor.
“Let’s get you out of here,” Colonel Ellis told Kate and Evan. “This way.”
“But we have to tell him! Kate’s idea could save us!”
“This way. And clearly we’re going to have to do more than monitors.”
Suddenly Evan shouted out. “Governor! Yes you! Still being led around by the nose I see! Let them take you down the next path to disaster. Don’t bother listening to the one plan that could save the entire planet.”
There was a commotion in the crowd. For a moment Kate caught a glimpse of Rezar’s face. Anger was there, but something more.
“But there’s good news!” Evan continued. “History won’t know how you failed everyone, because we’ll all be gone.”
“You can stop now,” Kate told him. “The governor is coming back.”
The governor stopped a meter away, arms crossed. “You have sixty seconds,” he said.
Evan looked to Kate.
She gathered her words, knowing she had one chance. Nothing philosophical or spiritual, on pain of death. She had learned to bottle it up, when it really mattered.
In the most direct possible terms, Kate related her idea to the governor and his staff. They had a few questions, but mostly they attended carefully. Sixty seconds passed, and then another minute, and another, but Governor Rezar stayed with them.
“I do have to point out one thing,” Kate concluded. “My information is a few days old. As of that time, Paul Ricken’s plan was to arrive two hours from now.”
“So really, it’s just delusional optimism to imagine that this ship will arrive, and that we can use it to fool Affirmatix,” Rezar said.
Kate was aghast. Would the governor turn away from their one hope? She prepared an outburst.
“Then we must proceed,” the governor declared. “Get this Denison of yours in here right now. We’ll start a draft of the cover message based on what you know of the target ship. Let’s edit the cover on this screen. Get me some story artists to craft the news item to be sent from the incoming ship. And Admiral Incento, lift the embargo on nonessential communications. We’ll need lots of traffic, so that this specific message doesn’t stand out. Identify the best stations and remaining ships to transmit to the Green glome emergence.”
“Yes sir.”
“This could be our last shot. Anybody have a better idea? Last call.” Rezar looked around the situation room.
Silence, except for the low background chatter of staff, doing whatever it was that staff always does.
They got to work.
To Kill Again
Captain Roe was no stranger to death. He had killed. When he was a young man, he had killed in person, as ordered, to win the battles of the day. A series of promotions meant killing by proxy instead. Giving orders that would be carried out by younger men as he had once been, or by machines.
That was all long ago. For the past four decades, there had been no war. His role as a peacekeeper, or enforcer by turns, was safer, and easier on the soul.
Roe had been spending the last few hours considering whether he would need to kill, one last time.
In person.
Roe had watched as Lobeck had configured the D6, routing all control of the weapon through the bridge of M3120, their ship. It was a departure from standard procedure, which mandated that any such weapon must be able to be independently controlled from no less than three locations. Lobeck was serious about control. By him.
Roe was a soldier. That meant many things. Duty. Willingness to do what needed to be done, without flinching. Willingness to sacrifice.
It also meant rising above what he felt. Frustration at being a rent-a-crew, no matter h
ow big and powerful a rig he drove. Visceral dislike of Vice President Arn Lobeck. The edge of rage at the way Lobeck made sure Roe always knew he was a rental.
None of those things mattered.
In order for Roe to consider his orders to be lawful and thus to follow them, Roe simply needed to know that his commander believed the orders to be lawful, and was not suffering from a serious loss of judgment.
Lobeck had been skating close to the edge. The nuclear strike had been deeply troubling, a stunning overkill. However, no uninvolved civilians had been killed. Roe himself had committed worse.
Now the plan to use the D6, and kill fifty million civilians.
It was not the largest genocide in human history, although it would be in the top ten list. All to keep a secret.
Roe had listened carefully to Lobeck’s logic, as they prepared to deploy the D6. Lobeck presumably didn’t know that his own life depended on the soundness of that reasoning. For Roe, it wasn’t just a question of whether to obey orders. Roe knew that certain people could not simply be disobeyed, or blocked. With someone like Lobeck, if you crossed him, he would come after you until the end of your days. Probably cause that end, in fact. The two options were to obey his orders, or to take him out.
In the past few hours, Lobeck had deployed his own personal security guards in critical areas of the ship, including the bridge. No other weapons were allowed. Obviously this was to assure complete control of the situation, when it was time to activate the D6.
Hubris. An experienced captain does not lose control of his ship so easily. If the moment came, Roe had several methods available to do what needed to be done.
Roe had listened carefully. Very carefully, to every word. He pondered the justification. In essence, the risk was that if the secret were let out, civilization would unravel.
Would that actually occur? Roe had no idea. He would not pretend to be an expert on such a matter. He just knew the standard for a lawful order.
If he had a lifetime, Roe would not be able to catalog all of the things that he considered to be wrong with Lobeck. The problem was that, as far as Roe could tell, Lobeck’s judgment and reasoning were entirely intact. They were certainly consistent.
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