Galactic Mail_Revolution!

by Richard F. Weyand

  Dawson logged into the central computer system on Doma, and used her CEO authority to punch through the security barriers around the video and audio surveillance archives. She watched the confrontation between Sylvain Costa and Padma Kosar in his office, and the meeting between the late Myron Kwan and Kosar the day before.

  Amazing that Kosar would allow her own office to be surveilled. Dawson thought of two alternatives. One was that Kosar didn't know, and it was Kwan's insurance policy. The other was that Kosar thought it would be useful, something she could use, particularly if someone thought she wouldn't be recording her own office.

  Dawson also saw Sylvain Costa's departure from the Administrative Building the day before, when he had said goodbye to his staff and wished them well.

  On a hunch, Dawson looked for surveillance feeds from the CEO's residence, and found them. Sylvain Costa was at home at the moment, in his home office, and appeared to be emptying his desk.

  As Quicksilver settled into its orbit around Doma, Dawson commed Padma Kosar on the display in Kosar's office, the first time it had worked since early yesterday morning. She was speaking in the VR, and the computer sent the VR image and voice on.

  “Kosar.”

  “Good morning, Ms. Kosar. Patricia Dawson here.”

  “You! What are you doing here? Left when it got hot in Kalnai, did you?”

  “No, the battle is long over, Ms. Kosar. I came to express my regrets your friend Myron Kwan is deceased. Along with the fifty thousand or so of your Security people he brought along to Kalnai.”

  “Bullshit. There's no way you could have defeated that force. I sent over a hundred ships and ten thousand drones to Kalnai.”

  “Then where are they, Ms. Kosar? I'm here, and they're not. Expected to hear something by now, didn't you? You don't look like you slept well.

  “As it turns out, all the regular forces you sent to Kalnai got my orders, not yours. They spaced to Odla, and placed themselves under the authority of the regional manager there. And I pulled all the drones and ships in Kalnai region and Doma region, except for those here in Doma itself, to Kalnai well before I sent your termination notice. When your forces dropped out of hyperspace into Kalnai, there were over a hundred and sixty thousand drones waiting.

  “It didn't go well for them.”

  Kosar's display switched to the battle recording by one of the sensor drones as twelve hundred drones fired on Kwan's sixty ships and they disappeared.

  Kosar got redder and angrier as this little speech went on. Dawson found it fascinating to watch. Kosar kept enough of a grip, though, to go on through clenched teeth.

  “So what do you want from me?”

  “Your surrender, Ms. Kosar.”

  There were transmission delays due to the distance. Dawson knew when her message had gotten to Kosar, though, because Kosar completely lost it.

  “Fuck you, bitch. I'll tell you what you'll get if you don't get your ass out of Doma. I have a ten-megaton warhead hidden on this base, and I'll set it off if you don't get your ass out of here. There are three million people in this valley, as well as all the central computers, and I'll blow them all to hell unless you get back on your high horse and get the fuck out of here.”

  Dawson sent instructions to Turner while she continued to talk to Kosar.

  “But that would kill you as well, Ms. Kosar.”

  “You're going to kill me anyway. If you don't get out of here, I'll take them all with me. Then it'll be on your head, bitch. Three million dead. All on you. So fuck you.”

  Galactic Mail was currently on the other side of Doma from the Quicksilver's position in orbit, and communications were being relayed by satellites around the planet. The transmission delays gave Turner time. He reported to Dawson on another channel.

  “There are only two construction projects that occurred since Kosar came to power that could hold such a device. One in the basement of the Administrative Building, and one in the basement of the Security Building. For everything else, the volume is accounted for.”

  Turner flipped a map of Galactic Mail's Doma base onto Dawson's screen. The Galactic Mail central Administrative Building and the Security Building were both newer buildings on the far side of the field from the main operational headquarters of the Doma division, at the east end of the huge complex.

  Dawson gave instructions to Turner while continuing her conversation with Kosar.

  “Are there any conditions under which you would consider surrender without setting off your device, Ms. Kosar?”

  Sensing weakness, Kosar pushed harder.

  “None whatsoever. As a matter of fact, I have two such devices. If I set them both off, they'll probably kill millions of people in Nadezhda, too. And they're buried, not an air burst. With the prevailing east wind here, the fallout alone will be terrible.”

  “I'm sorry to hear that, Ms. Kosar.”

  “No doubt you are bitch. Now get the fuck out of here.”

  “There's just one thing you haven't considered.”

  “What's that? Women and children and all that shit? Fuck them.”

  “No. It's that I don't really care all that much about the computers.”

  The two kinetic weapon drones came down at a thirty degree angle out of the west, passing fifteen miles above Nadezhda, thirty miles away. They were running at their full ten-gravity acceleration, much faster than the noise or shock wave of their passage. One hit the front of the Administrative Building, the other the front of the Security Building, at their full power. Both huge buildings collapsed with the initial impact and the explosion that followed with the release of all that kinetic energy.

  The angle of incidence made the explosion and all the ejected debris plume out to the east, away from the rest of the people and buildings on the huge base, and the sheer size of the field protected them further. There were damage and injuries on the rest of the base, both from the explosions and the shock wave of the drones' passing over the base, but they were surprisingly light compared to the total destruction of the Administrative and Security Buildings.

  Sylvain Costa was in his home office in the front of the house on The Hill west of Galactic Mail's Doma headquarters. The Hill was one of the foothills of the large ridge that separated Galactic Mail's Doma facilities from Doma's capital city of Nadezhda to the west. There was a gap in that ridge, through which the highway and light rail connection between Galactic Mail and Nadezhda ran, and The Hill was just north of the gap, with a splendid view of the base.

  When the base was initially built, three large houses had been built on The Hill, looking east out over the base. The three houses were built for the CEO of Galactic Mail, its head of Defense Operations, and its head of Mail and Freight Operations.

  Costa was going through his desk, sorting through mementoes of his time at Galactic Mail. He had no doubt that time was over. The computers controlled Galactic Mail. It was impossible to be otherwise. Sure, Galactic Mail employed two hundred million people, but with a customer base of six trillion people spread across thirty-five thousand planets, two hundred million was a small number. High levels of automation were required. If Patricia Dawson and her group of Watchers controlled the computers, they controlled Galactic Mail.

  Costa thought of Padma Kosar and shook his head. He had always liked the aggressive chief of staff. She got things done. And if she bent the rules a little doing it, well, so what? He had learned not to inquire too deeply into her methods, satisfied with the results.

  But she had clearly gone around the corner. There was no way to resist someone who had control of the computers if they were half competent, and, despite Kosar's sneering dismissal of 'the accountant,' he suspected Patricia Dawson was more than a little competent. The way she had manipulated Kosar's notorious temper was proof enough of that.

  His meandering thoughts were interrupted when the whole house shook, hard. Small items fell over on the bookcases and the windows rattled. He looked out the big window overlooking the base, an
d saw two streaks that passed over the house descending on the base. He just had time to drop to the floor and cover his head with his arms when the ground shock wave and then the air blast wave of the explosions shook the house twice again, even harder.

  Costa climbed shakily to his feet and looked out over the base. The Administrative Building and the Security Building on the far side of the base, almost on the horizon, had been converted to piles of burning rubble as a double mushroom cloud lifted over Galactic Mail.

  I guess the new administration is here, he thought. Padma pushed too hard, once too often.

  Sylvain Costa

  Dawson stepped out of the shower aboard Quicksilver, and donned her best business suit. She sat in the captain's ready room and placed a call to Sylvain Costa in the CEO's residence on the Hill. She had to unblock his display to do it.

  Costa was sitting in his desk chair, looking out at Galactic Mail's Doma base, thinking of the loss of his staff and everyone else in the Administrative Building. He jerked, startled, when the display on his desk abruptly came to life with an inbound call.

  “Sylvain Costa.”

  “Hello, Mr. Costa. I'm Patricia Dawson.”

  Costa responded with what was on the top of his head.

  “Was that really necessary, Ms. Dawson?”

  “I'm afraid it was, Mr. Costa. Padma Kosar claimed to have two ten-megaton nuclear warheads secreted on the base, which she threatened to detonate.”

  Kosar's image came on the screen.

  “Fuck you, bitch. I'll tell you what you'll get if you don't get your ass out of Doma. I have a ten-megaton warhead hidden on this base, and I'll set it off if you don't get your ass out of here. There are three million people in this valley, as well as all the central computers, and I'll blow them all to hell unless you get back on your high horse and get the fuck out of here.”

  And then a second clip.

  “As a matter of fact, I have two such devices. If I set them both off, they'll probably kill millions of people in Nadezhda, too. And they're buried, not an air burst. With the prevailing east wind here, the fallout alone will be terrible.”

  Costa had no doubt it was Kosar. He recognized her choice of vocabulary.

  Dawson came back on the screen.

  “We actually located the devices from construction records, Mr. Costa. One is in the basement of the Administrative Building, and one is in the basement of the Security Building. I have directed warhead disposal units to the scene, with maps to locate the devices.”

  Costa looked down at his desk and shook his head. What had Kosar been thinking? She was mad. He looked up at Dawson.

  “I had no knowledge whatsoever of those devices, Ms. Dawson. I appreciated Padma Kosar's ability to get things done, and was not as mindful of her methods as I should have been. This, this was madness.”

  “Actually, Mr. Costa, I believe you. I've done my own share of checking into both of your histories. I believe Padma Kosar kept her own counsel, pursued her own ends, without your knowledge. As for your friends and others within the administration who were killed, Kosar gave me only bad choices. I could kill a hundred thousand people, have her kill millions, or leave this base and its resources in the hands of a madwoman. I chose.”

  “So what do we do now, Ms. Dawson?”

  “What I would like to do is to arrange a peaceful – to the extent it can be, now – transition. You know, outgoing CEO welcomes new CEO, handshakes, pictures, press release. The whole thing. It makes things simpler going forward.”

  “And what then becomes of me, Ms. Dawson?”

  “Honored former CEO, living out his life in retirement, the whole happily-ever-after thing. Oh, there might be some quiet auditing done, perhaps a return of some funds, depending on what the audit finds, but not prosecution, not penury, not infamy.”

  “A generous offer.”

  “Mr. Costa, I have something of a vested interest in not beginning a new tradition with regard to the treatment of former Galactic Mail CEOs. It could prove, well, inconvenient in the future.”

  Costa chuckled, the first time he had laughed since yesterday.

  “Yes, I see, Ms. Dawson. Well, I'm very good at handshakes, and I'm told I photograph well.”

  Over the next several days, Costa proved as good as his word. He was everywhere. Overseeing the work of search and rescue crews. Consoling the loved ones of those who had died. Being in every way the concerned and engaged CEO, caring for his company and his people.

  Whenever Dawson's actions came up, he defended her vigorously.

  “My, God, she saved us all. When Padma Kosar went mad, she threatened to blow up the entire base – three million people – with a nuclear warhead arranged to be dirty. The blast and fallout would have killed many of the thirty million people in Nadezhda as well. Thank God Patricia Dawson was in a position to stop Padma Kosar. We would all be dead. All our friends. All our loved ones. Our children.”

  When the warheads were actually found, in the places Turner had predicted, Costa judged it the proper time to release the entire conversation between Patricia Dawson, calm and level-headed throughout, and the raging Kosar.

  In particular, Kosar's final terrible words – “What's that? Women and children and all that shit? Fuck them.” – cemented the truth in everyone's mind.

  For the grieving families, Costa accepted liability on behalf of Galactic Mail, for both the failure to see Padma Kosar's developing insanity and the terrible toll it took. To cover its liability, Costa directed Galactic Mail to make generous wrongful death payments, which he sweetened with a substantial donation of his personal funds.

  Costa also took personal responsibility for his failure to foresee or avert the tragedy, and announced he would step down as Galactic Mail CEO, as soon as he had taken what steps he could to mitigate it. All attempts to talk him out of stepping down failed.

  Dawson suspected the substantial donation would prove to be only part of what would end up being clawed back by the audit, but it was masterfully done nonetheless.

  And she signed off on all his actions behind the scenes, to make them all valid under the by-laws.

  It was a masterwork of public relations. By the time the transition ceremony was held, both Sylvain Costa and Patricia Dawson were heroes to the employees of Galactic Mail on Doma and their families. No other choice for the incoming CEO would have been so well received.

  The ceremony itself was small, a large celebration so soon after the deaths of so many being inappropriate. It would normally have been held on the ground of the Administrative Building. That being impossible, it was held in the gardens of the CEO's residence on the Hill, and broadcast to all Galactic Mail employees on Doma. The recording was also mailed to all Galactic Mail employees throughout all fifty-seven divisions of the company.

  With Galactic Mail's origins within the Commonwealth Space Force of the Commonwealth of Free Planets, both long since defunct, the incoming CEO swore an oath to defend the charter of Galactic Mail. Again, in the somber mood after the disaster of Padma Kosar, there were no speeches.

  In five minutes it was done, and Patricia Dawson was the publicly acknowledged CEO of Galactic Mail.

  It was less than a month since the Mnemosyne had picked them up on Horizon.

  Sylvain Costa and Patricia Dawson sat in the small seating group in Costa's home office in the CEO's residence on the Hill. Dawson's swearing-in was the first time the two of them had actually met, and this was their first private conversation. Things had been moving too fast, they had both been too busy, in the two weeks since Kosar's fiery death.

  Dawson had been back to Kalnai in between, checking in on the transfer of Galactic Mail corporate files from the undamaged data center on Doma to Kalnai, kicking off a forensic accounting team looking into Galactic Mail's books and Kosar's mails, and approving a set of initial parameters for the design of a new corporate Administrative Building on Kalnai.

  Dawson had met Costa's wife, Vivian Johnson, and one adu
lt daughter who still lived at home, as well as the Doma region manager and the Doma division manager. She was on-planet with her own nascent staff, borrowed from Micheli's regional headquarters on Kalnai, as well as Enfield and Turner. They had been shown every consideration by Costa, his family, and the household staff.

  At the moment everyone else was out in the garden, enjoying the nice day, in a little reception after the transfer ceremony.

  “So here we are, Mr. Costa. I wanted to express my personal appreciation for your efforts in making it as smooth a transition as possible. You've laid the groundwork for Galactic Mail's success moving forward.”

  Costa waved his hand in a small gesture.

  “If you control the computers, Ms. Dawson, you control Galactic Mail. There's a lesson there for you, I think. But I knew immediately it was over when the computers told us you were the legal CEO of Galactic Mail. I'm still surprised, mind you. I had no idea there was an independent oversight of Galactic Mail, or why or how it might be triggered. But I knew it was over. At that point, there is no sense in not being gracious. I've been with Galactic Mail almost thirty-five years, and I always wanted what I thought was best for it and the people in it.”

  Dawson considered. Costa's access to the corporate VR and mail system had been restored, though without CEO and command privileges. She decided, and triggered a mail through the VR. She sent him Jan Childers' introduction to the role of Watcher.

  “To your point about the independent oversight, Mr. Costa, I have something you might want to VR. I think it's important, and may be helpful. I've just sent it to you. I'll be happy to wait.”

  Costa got a bit of a distracted look as he accessed his mail in the VR, then became unfocused in the way typical of someone in full immersion VR.

  When he came out of the VR, Costa looked down at the floor between them for several minutes. Dawson waited. Finally, he looked up at her.

  “Some members of the Board brought up these objections, of course. I ignored them. I was convinced it was both improper and unnecessary for Galactic Mail to stand aside and simply watch these travesties unfold. On Wallachia. Other places. Having accomplished Jan Childers' grand objective, putting an end to interstellar war, Galactic Mail should now put an end to tyranny and despotism. I was convinced I had the vision to carry that out, to extend Jan Childers' legacy.