by Al Robertson
[Are you OK?] Jack asked him.
[ Breaking Sandal’s security systems. Making sure he doesn’t stop the lift.]
[All ready with the Yamata files?]
[ Yes. They’ll all be able to access them. I’ve chucked in a recording of Penderville’s confession for good measure.]
[Excellent.] Jack turned to Ifor. ‘And are you all right?’ he said. A bullet had struck the mind too. Purple plasm leaked out of a gash in his chest. Ifor put his hand over it. ‘I’ll be fine.’
The lift doors hushed open. Ifor limped forward. Fist looked past Jack, and his jaw dropped. ‘Bloody hell,’ he said, forgetting to mask his words, ‘so this is how the other half live.’
Jack turned too, and was awed. He’d always understood Heaven to be the land of the gods, but realised suddenly that he was wrong. Heaven was merely where humanity was able to most closely approach them. This room was their true home, and the whole of the Solar System was encompassed within it. He took a step forward. The lift doors started to close, and then the weave overlaid them and they vanished.
Jack was floating before a tiny image of Station. All around it, there was space – or rather, an abstract representation of space. Jack was at the heart of a real-time map, overlaid with dense thickets of information showing all human activity. White loops arcing through the void, defining planetary orbits. A shimmering globe moved along each one, alive with colour and data. Finger-sized images of moonbases and space stations and chainships and asteroid mines hovered everywhere, representing every single outpost of humanity. Numbers danced through the emptiness, scurrying up or down or just staying the same, as the realities they measured shifted with each moment. The outer reaches of the map were dotted with bright pinpricks of light. They were embedded in barely perceptible clouds of soft, pearlescent grey.
Jack assumed they represented the Totality’s sphere of influence. The clouds shimmered across the whole of the region beyond the Kuiper belt. They’d also made substantial inroads in-system, stopping only on the near-side of Mars’ orbit. Only Station and the orbital areas surrounding it were untouched by Totality influence. Tiny patches of colour represented the different zones that each Pantheon member controlled. Jack had always known that the Totality had become by far the widest ranging corporate body in the Solar System, but until he saw this representation of its reach he had never understood just what that meant.
‘Look at the population density,’ said Fist. ‘Most of humanity’s in Station – and the Pantheon still holds that.’
‘And that’s the jewel we’re all fighting for,’ cut in a deep voice, resonant with the heaviness of industrial machinery. Jack had last heard it in a propaganda film, inducting new puppeteers into the Soft War.
‘Kingdom,’ he hissed.
The Pantheon shimmered into being around him, security protocols falling away. Those closest caught his eye first. There was the Rose in full combat armour, Sandal’s shimmering cube, the Twins holding hands but looking away from each other. Together, the six formed a wide circle, centred on the image of Station. The scale of the simulation made them far larger than planets, larger even than the Sun. Soft lines came into being between them and divided the sky into segments, forming something like a corporate zodiac. Those gods with eyes stared at Jack. East waved cheerfully. A blindfolded, hobbled raven did its best to snap its beak. There were four snowflakes too, hanging in the void.
Kingdom was the last to appear. The shadows fell away from him like oil until he was fully revealed. He manifested as a tall man with a shaven head and a face as functionally beautiful as an industrial diamond. His skin glowed gold in the light from the god-dwarfed sun. He was dressed in a loose black shirt and trousers. His feet were bare. Jack took a step back, awed and afraid. Here was the infrastructure that gave humanity life; here was the corruption that devoured its children.
‘How do you dare break into this council?’ asked Kingdom. ‘And with the help of a Totality mind. What do you all have to say to this act of naked aggression?’
The snowflakes shuddered with multicoloured light. Jack looked back to Ifor. His head was bowed and he was silent, deep in communion with his fellows.
[ You’d better say something, Jack.]
Jack gulped, then spoke. ‘We come to accuse you, Kingdom, of crimes against humanity and the Totality. We come to lay proof of those crimes before this council. Fist – the files.’
Fist shrugged off the backpack and tossed it towards the middle of the room. It fell among the virtual stars and skittered along the real floor for a couple of metres before coming to rest. ‘It’s all in there,’ he said. ‘Dropping a rock on the moon, prolonging the Soft War. Just take a look.’ [ That was quick,] he added. [Everyone in the room’s already downloaded it.]
‘That is absurd,’ said Kingdom, his protest tolling out like a great, slow factory bell. ‘A ridiculous, self-evident fabrication from two servants of a discredited god. A transparent attempt to distract us from the Totality’s most recent provocation. We protect humanity. We are humanity. We would never harm it in this way. It’s a profoundly offensive suggestion.’
The cube that represented Sandal grew in size. Images of hard working dockers flashed across its faces, pulsing rapidly to show his anger. ‘Silence!’ he snapped. ‘As chair of this conference, I must insist on silence.’ The cube turned towards Jack. ‘This kind of discussion is not on the agenda.’
Kingdom gestured towards Jack. ‘This man is a well-known Totality sympathiser and Grey agitator. He was returned to Station at the specific request of our common enemy. His presence here at this very crucial point is clearly a Totality ploy. I’m sure they furnished him with these remarkably convincing fake documents. Forster and his puppet should be terminated immediately.’
‘Please,’ said Sandal. ‘My security people have been summoned. They will be here soon, and—’
Ifor interrupted him. ‘This man and his puppet are accredited Totality diplomatic representatives, and thus under our full protection,’ he announced. ‘Any action against them would be interpreted as action against us. We would regard it as a direct declaration of war.’
‘The Totality feels itself to be the victim here?’ asked Kingdom. ‘A corporate entity that has breached our Coffin Drives, thus illegally attacking the deepest roots of our heritage as humans? There is nothing more to discuss. Mr Chairman, I submit that we are already at war with these false minds – a war once again provoked solely by them. First, they struck at our children. Now they’re striking at our dead. And now their agent is accusing me of terrible, terrible crimes. We need to shut down all non-military activities and hit back with everything we have. Now.’
One of the snowflakes spoke. Its calm voice had a resonant depth to it, as if it were made up of a thousand whispers coming together as one. ‘We have already demonstrated that your forces do not match ours. We halted our advance at Mars by choice, not out of necessity.’
‘You have attacked all that is most sacred to us. Even those humans who’ve gone over to your side will turn against you when they understand that. And that will tip the balance of power in our direction.’
‘All of this is irrelevant,’ protested Jack, his voice full of frustration. ‘None of you are thinking about what’s important, about why you’re going to war in the first place. It’s nothing to do with the Totality; it’s because of Kingdom. War is in his interest. Breaking the Totality is in his interest. And so he’s making it happen. He’s fooled you all, and he’s done it before. These documents prove it.’
Kingdom laughed. ‘Absurdities. I wish I had that much power.’
‘Kingdom both started and prolonged the last war,’ replied Jack, ‘and his actions are going to set this one off too.’
‘I move we vote on a response to the Totality’s obscene provocation,’ pronounced Kingdom, speaking over him. ‘And that this intruder is silenced.’
‘No!’ shouted Jack.
‘Mr Chairman?’ asked Kingdom, a soft
undertone of menace in his voice.
‘We will proceed with the vote,’ Sandal decided, shimmering nervously.
‘Wait.’ East stepped forward. ‘I’ve got something to show you.’
‘Really, East,’ scolded Kingdom. ‘This isn’t the time—’
‘Breaking news. Look.’
She waved a hand and screens sprung into being around the circle. Some showed wide shots of Station; some were closeups of individual streets; some showed one man, talking. Jack recognised this latter immediately. It was Bjorn Penderville.
His voice echoed out, caught in mid-sentence.
‘—responsible for the destruction on the moon. I confess to masking the meteor myself, ensuring that it could strike the moon without being detected. I used software adapted from sweathead blanking protocols. I did so at the instigation of Aud Yamata, leader of a criminal gang controlled by Kingdom. InSec operative Harry Devlin later joined the Yamata gang.’
[Oo, I bet Harry’s ears are burning! Though he’s probably concentrating too hard to notice. Little fly.]
[ He’s still out there?]
[ He thinks he’s almost hacked into me. Into my web! My lovely little web! Ah, the ninja code’s reporting back.]
[ What are you up to?]
[All my plans are paying off. You’ll see.]
[ Fuck’s sake, Fist.]
On the screens, Penderville continued his confession. ‘I understand that, after my death, Devlin helped the Yamata gang create a series of false flag attacks that were blamed on terrorists and used to justify the execution and fetch-caging of a number of key anti-war activist groups. These activists were for the most part allied with or supported by Grey, hence the attacks on him.’
Shouting broke out across the room. Penderville’s words were lost in the melee. Kingdom’s voice became a high-pitched scream, the sound of metal grinding on metal. ‘Can you not see that this ridiculous conspiracy theory is a lie?’ he was yelling. Other Pantheon members were shouting, too, some in support of him, some against him.
Despite the ferocity of the onslaught, East was unruffled. ‘Now let’s hear from the dead,’ she said, speaking with a news anchor’s dispassion.
The screens showing Station increased in size. The images each held shifted, zooming in on individual streets. Jack realised that they were closing in on void sites. Crowds had gathered round each one. Images of children hung over each void site. They were still broadcasting their messages of grief but beneath them, the dead had returned. They stood in shimmering rings, fetches who had climbed out of the Coffin Drives and, through the omnipresence of the weave, found themselves able to manifest in the streets of Station. It was an apocalypse, of sorts.
‘Bringing in audio,’ said East calmly, and each screen was suddenly roaring out the voices of the dead. They were speaking as one. ‘ … working for peace, and we found ourselves under attack. Every single one of us was killed by one of Kingdom’s operatives. Every single one of us was caged in the Coffin Drives, unable to speak of this. They told you we were terrorists, but none of us were; they told you that we were threats, but none of us were; they told you that we hated humanity, but really we love life. Kingdom made you afraid so that you would agree to war with the Totality, but he has always been the real enemy. Reject him!’
The last two words of the speech were a great, triumphant roar.
‘Now they’re starting the speech again,’ explained East. ‘Others have risen, too.’
The screens shimmered, becoming a kaleidoscope of many different views. They danced through streets and houses, parks and shops. Some even showed the darkness of space or the cramped confines of chainships. Fetches were everywhere, drifting like angelic ghosts, tightly embracing the living or just standing, looking round in wonder and disbelief, at last free from the Coffin Drives.
None of them had skulls for heads.
‘They’re free,’ said East. ‘Nobody controls them any more.’
‘But – this is a disaster!’ shouted Kingdom. ‘If nobody controls them – that means artificial intelligences are loose, everywhere! It’s a direct threat to us! Remember how we lost our homeworld!’
East just smiled. ‘I think your terrorists have something more to say.’
The screens flicked back to show a single void site. The fetches ringed round it were chanting. Jack saw that they’d been joined by a number of scrappily dressed, happy looking children. Their words were clear.
‘Shut down Kingdom! Shut down Kingdom!’
‘No!’ howled Kingdom.
The chanting became louder and louder. The camera pulled back. The chant had been taken up by the crowd that had formed round the void site. The camera pulled back still further. There were crowds across the whole of Homeland, shouting against Kingdom. The view flicked to Docklands. There too, the streets echoed with voices.
‘Shut down Kingdom! Shut down Kingdom!’
‘These terrorists will break Station. We need to shut down East’s media networks. If their message is heard, they’ll destroy everything we fought for,’ gasped Kingdom, his rich voice shattered by panic.
‘Good,’ said Grey. The blindfolded raven was gone; now the man stood there, smartly dressed and looking very relaxed.
‘You!’ gasped Kingdom. ‘You dare to come here!’ He turned away from Grey to address the group. ‘This criminal is manipulating you all,’ he snarled. ‘We must freeze Grey and close down East. It’s the only way to protect us from their lies. There is no alternative.’
‘The evidence against you is strong, Kingdom,’ said East implacably. ‘And we can’t stand in the way of the people. As you’ve said yourself, many times.’
Sandal’s highly stressed voice rang out like a power drill. ‘We need to debate this properly. It’s not what we’re here for now.’
A snowflake weighed in. ‘The Totality has always claimed that we were not responsible for the lunar atrocity. We have already been able to confirm some aspects of this interpretation of the facts. We believe that Penderville and these other freed minds are telling the truth.’
‘Perhaps Sandal has a point,’ said Grey smoothly. ‘We should be fair to Kingdom. Should we take steps to protect him? If we isolate his board from his key subsidiaries then the shock of this sudden crash will be lessened. We can then call this meeting to a halt, and investigate in more depth, at our leisure.’
[ Fucking gods,] said Fist. [Protecting their own.]
[ What?] replied Jack.
‘No! No!’ said Sandal, his voice almost a scream. ‘As chair I insist we complete voting on our original motion. We must decide whether or not to attack the Totality.’
‘I think a little patience might be in order,’ soothed Grey.
[ Right, fuck this,] snapped Fist. [ Where’s Harry? Aha!] He shook, and then staggered a couple of paces forward. He looked suddenly drunk.
[ Fist!] shouted Jack. [Come back here! What are you doing?]
‘Oh no!’ Fist shouted, theatrically. ‘Oh no!’ He took another uncertain step, then swayed round till he was facing Jack. He raised his hands to his head, so nobody else could see his face. He gave Jack a slow, confident wink. And then, he arched his back and threw himself down, hitting the ground with a clatter. Patches of overlay disappeared around him, revealing a white-painted concrete floor. ‘He’s possessing me!’ he yelled. ‘I can’t stop him!’
Grey peered over, mild worry on his face. ‘Jack, this is a very serious moment. You really should keep him quiet.’
Jack barely heard. He could feel system after system tumbling out of his control. [ Fist?] he called out, but there was no reply. The puppet was no longer a presence in his mind.
‘What’s happening?’ asked Ifor.
‘I think he’s let Harry come through,’ Jack replied.
Fist’s limbs smashed themselves against the ground, again and again, a small blur of fevered movement. Jack couldn’t understand what he’d been trying to achieve. Whatever it was, it seemed to have failed. H
is thoughts clouded over for a moment, as if a great shadow had passed across them.
‘Is he all right?’ said Ifor.
‘It looks like he’s lost control.’
‘Oh yes,’ said a voice with a strong Docklands accent, speaking out of Fist’s mouth. ‘OH FUCKING YES!’ Fist’s whole body was shaking. It began to grow.
‘I warned you both so many times about carelessness,’ said Grey, sounding a little less relaxed.
‘Security! Security!’ squawked Sandal. His six square sides showed images of burly men and women in riot gear.
Kingdom was trying not to look worried. He took one step back, and then another. There was a sharp hissing sound. The shape that had been Fist’s body was the size of a full-grown man. The shaking began to slow. First his torso and then his limbs returned to clear sight. He was someone different now. He rose to his feet. He was wearing a jaunty fedora, a raincoat that billowed around him and a sharp suit and tie. He had a smile on his face that was at once triumphant, lethal and irresistibly charming.
He was Harry Devlin.
‘So,’ he smiled. ‘Which one of you cunts is up for a hostile takeover?’
‘SECURITY!’ bellowed Sandal.
‘They won’t come,’ Harry told him. ‘Fist was still plugged into the lift. I killed it. Comms too. You’re all locked in now. With me.’ He turned, looking around the room. ‘Well, well, well. All of you here together. And the Totality, too. So many birds to kill with one stone.’
There was a wall in Jack’s mind where Fist should be. He beat against it, but it was impossible to break through. He heard sounds from behind it. Combat machinery was grinding into life, complaining like a broken giant slowly waking from a deep, concussed sleep.
‘Do something!’ said East, the anxiety in her voice sounding subtly forced. ‘Won’t somebody do something?’
The Rose leapt towards Harry, scarlet clothing becoming brutally functional combat armour. Harry laughed, and clicked a finger. There was a dog at the Rose’s neck and the weight took her balance from her. She skidded and fell, a flailing tumble of limbs. The dog fell with her. As they both hit the ground it became something both more and less than itself. Losing all definition, it flowed over her, a tide of darkness covering her completely. For a moment, it was possible to make out the shape of her body. She screamed. The scream was suddenly and completely cut off. Then there was nothing where she’d been but another empty patch of concrete.