Information Cloud: Science fiction and fantasy series (Tales of Cinnamon City Book 1)

by Peter James West

  Eventually he did stop, but not before she felt him banging on the door behind her. His helpless attempts to push the door open while she leant against it left her distraught and ashamed.

  Encrypted Line

  Gail Thompson sat alone in her office. She had now moved back into her main office in the White Spear, the command hub of Central Command. As the tallest tower, it offered panoramic views over the city. She could see the top of Tower Four a hundred metres away. Her poky hideout there no longer served its purpose. She had moved there to be away from people, and it had worked for a time, but word had quickly spread. For the last two days it had been swarming with administrators, diplomats, and every fool with a question on their lips. They wouldn't find her now that she had returned to her official office. Sometimes the best place to hide was exactly where you were supposed to be. Everyone knew she was never there. She enjoyed making a fool those who wasted her time by turning logic on its head.

  Gail stared south over Cinnamon City, watching the sun creeping high over the rooftops. From the high vantage point of her office, she could see the tech factories on the Grand Plaza below, multicoloured box cabins overlapping each other in the Old Quarter, and the tall office buildings of the business district standing proud in the sky to the South-west. She could just make out the glowing red M of the Mekinet News building . The city was waking up to a brand new day. She just wished she could find the optimism to welcome it.

  Power had been restored to the Mekinet News building. Some semblance of normality had finally returned. It had taken a couple of days for the Security Forces to clear out the building's lower levels, retrieving bodies from the stairwells, and removing all of Ario Neech's archived documents. The basement had been sealed off to allow for a longer, more detailed investigation. The commanders were concerned that Riser Trent might have left booby traps. They were refusing to enter the lower basement levels until it had been thoroughly scanned by maintenance droids.

  Major Rachel Henson had survived, unfortunately. She had been taken to a medical centre before Gail had been able to finish her without anyone noticing. The medics had described her as stable but they weren't sure when she would regain consciousness. Gail was still deciding what to do with her if she ever woke up. Raisson hadn't answered any of her calls. She didn't know where he was, and for now, she didn't care.

  All the reports from Havers Compound had now been gathered, and they made for dire reading. Over two thousand Security Forces had been killed in one day. Only five hundred Kamari soldiers had been confirmed dead on the battle fields around the compound. That four to one loss ratio didn't look good however she tried to phrase it.

  The financial side of the report was even worse. Millions of credits of military hardware had been destroyed or damaged beyond repair.

  And then there were the loose ends and anomalies - of which there were plenty. There were still no signs of the satellite-grid controller. Commander Nick Chambers was missing, presumed lost in action. And security breaches were being reported almost by the hour. The news networks were having a field day.

  Reports were just starting to surface about the unfortunate abduction and murder of Ario Neech. Blame had been squarely laid at the hands of terrorists, thanks to the Gail's carefully arranged leaks, but some of the news networks were beginning to raise questions about why he had been taken hostage by a member of his own staff, and why his house had been burnt down on the same night. Others were complaining about the lack of witnesses, suggesting alternative theories of their own. So far, nobody had come close to the truth.

  Gail leant back in her chair, trying her best to enjoy the spectacular views. It wasn't easy. This was going to be a bastard to report to her superiors. There was bound to be an enquiry. There always was. The Council of Lords would send their investigators. She had heard bad things about them. They would grill her for hours. They would go through every terabyte of the visual logs and comms link archives. There would be no place to hide. She wondered why she should even bother to stay around and answer all of their questions.

  Turning to face her wide black desk, she lifted her embedded console from its surface and entered a special security code that only she knew. Sliding back a retractable cover, she inserted a small blue memory cube from her breast pocket. The console blinked, green lines of text scrolling across its display, and then the parasite algorithm began.

  The algorithm replicated itself over and over, making enough copies of itself to modify all the security systems at once. Warning lights flickered on Gail's desk, then blinked out one-by-one as the parasite algorithm cancelled them. The program could do things that even she, with her top level security clearance, could not. It used dubious means to bypass all security levels, trailing through file systems, information caches, and numerous connected networks to search for the information that the enquiry could not be allowed to find.

  Her comms unit vibrated as she followed the algorithm's progress on her console's display. He was on time as usual. Gail used a triple encrypted channel before accepting the connection.

  'I trust you slept well,' Roy said in a deep, calm voice.

  'You know I didn't.'

  'Well, I'm sorry to hear that.'

  'I cannot guarantee this line for long, so get to the point, Roy.'

  'I just wanted to congratulate you on your performance. It was... admirable.'

  'It's going to have to be better than bloody admirable when the enquiry starts. The Council of Lords isn't going to like losing two thousand soldiers on a routine combat operation.'

  'Indeed. Still, I expect your funding will be increased to deal with this new threat?'

  'I expect so, yes.'

  'And you'll be requiring more sophisticated military hardware. Very expensive hardware.'

  'Yes, If I'm still Admiral, that is. They might just throw me into the detention cells. Have you considered that?'

  'You always worry too much, Gail. They have no reason to do that. You are the jewel in the Security Forces' crown. Without you, they are nothing.'

  'I still think I'm going to be in the shit this time.'

  'Have you run the erm... present I sent you?'

  'It's running now.'

  'Then you have nothing to worry about. When the investigation looks at last month's visual logs they will find exactly what we want them to find. I'm particularly proud of the visual log showing Rix Mulholly interfering with Edwards' comms pack. I used a triple threaded reality mixer on that one. It's a work of art.'

  'And what if they find an inconsistency? What if they find out Rix Mulholly doesn't even exist?'

  'They won't. How could they? You worry too much. Maybe you need to take a little holiday.'

  'What do you mean?'

  'Come here for a while.'

  'I can't do that!'

  'Gail, you don't tell them you're coming here. Just wait until the investigation has concluded its findings, then say you're taking a break. Nobody is going to follow you. If they do, I'm sure they'll have a nasty accident.'

  Gail laughed, 'I'm sure they will. Well, I'll see what I can do. It would be good to see you again. How long has it been? A year? Somehow I don't think it'll happen though.'

  'Somebody's tracing the line.'

  'Oh God, who?'

  'I don't know yet. Don't panic. It will take them a long time to trace the source.'

  'We'd better end the call anyway.'

  'How are our friends at Mekinet News today?'

  'Shut down.'

  'Excellent. I didn't care much for their recent lines of investigation. I trust that the Walstone Report has been misplaced, and they will no longer be taking any interest in possible links between the Kamari and Central Command.'

  'Yes, the report has been destroyed. Neech was killed in a regrettable terrorist incident by one of his own staff.'

  'How unfortunate.'

  'Yes.'

  'Do you have a replacement yet?'

  'I was hoping you could suggest someone
.'

  'I was hoping you might say that. The press has been too biased towards Central Command and the Security Forces for a long time. What we need is a more balanced news reporting service. The people of Cinnamon City need to hear the other side of the argument. Once they hear about how incompetent the Security Forces are, and how little they have to offer for the future of Cinnamon City, I'm sure the Kamari will be viewed in a much more favourable light. The citizens will join us in their droves. It's time that Central Command stepped aside. Once the people are behind us, the Council of Lords won't be able to go on referring to us as radicals or terrorists. The good citizens of Cinnamon City will see otherwise.'

  'Perhaps. Who can tell who the citizens of Cinnamon City will support. Their allegiance is like a stiff grass. It bends whichever way the wind is blowing.'

  'True.'

  'Remind me, what is this great humanitarian purpose that the Kamari represent?'

  Roy laughed, a soft noise emanating from the back of his throat, 'Oh Gail. We have our own interests, of course. There are those who back us already. Many of our supporters are dissatisfied businessmen, tired of paying high taxes to a ruling council that allows no elections. There are others who just want change. The people all want different things, but they share a restlessness. They yearn for something else. When they realise there is an alternative, they will grasp it with both hands, not because it is better, but because it is different. They cannot openly oppose the Security Forces. What they need is a proxy to vent their frustrations through. What they need is the Kamari. We represent all those who want change.'

  'I wish I hadn't asked. What happened to your son? I heard he died?'

  'Nick Chambers happened to him.'

  'Oh. I'm sorry.'

  'So is he.'

  'So Nick's not coming back then?'

  'I'm afraid not.'

  'Good. I wouldn't want him answering any of the enquiry's questions. I have a feeling his reports might differ from my own. He wouldn't recognise his own reports either.'

  'Will you visit me when you can?' Roy said.

  'I'll see what I can do, Roy, but it's not easy, as you know. Do you mind me asking how your son was killed?'

  'It was a plasma grenade. I was standing next to him when he died. He took the blast that was intended to kill me.'

  'Are you hurt?'

  'Only my pride.'

  'Oh, Roy. I'll come and see you when I can. Which son was it?'

  'Isor.'

  'I'm sorry.'

  'So am I, Gail. So am I.'

  The connection dropped.

  Gail sat in her cold executive chair, watching the parasite algorithm's progress. Maybe she would visit Roy after when the investigation was over. Why couldn't she?

  When she glanced down, she noticed a single message on her console's display.

  PURGE COMPLETE.

  (Remove cube and destroy it).

  Lord Colloran Hades

  Henry walked slowly along the corridor towards Gail Thompson's office. He had been avoiding this moment for as long as he possibly could. He had stayed in the Old Quarter, watching the ongoing reports of riots in the city with increasing despair. Thompson had tried to contact him on several occasions but so far he had managed to avoid her calls. His excuses were looking more and more implausible.

  The news feeds were full of terrible news. There had been an almighty battle at Havers Compound. Thousands of soldiers had been killed. Henry was relieved that he wasn't responsible for any of that. He had enough problems just trying to handle the guilds. Thompson was going to be in a foul mood. She would tear him up one side an down the other when he finally showed his face. Waiting any longer wasn't going to make things any better.

  He had thought long and hard about how to put a positive spin on the current situation. For once in his life, his creative diplomatic skills had come up blank. What was he going to tell her? He still didn't know. Henry slowed his steps, placing one foot carefully in front of the other, just like when he had been sent to the school master for punishment when he was a small boy. He had to somehow make this short journey last as long as possible.

  He had already tried Thompson's office in Tower Four. He had worked himself up into a state only to find that it was empty. Using his connections, he had managed to track her down to her main office back in the White Spear. Why did she keep moving around so much? It was hard to keep track of her.

  The White Spear was the tallest tower of Central Command, standing proud at its centre. Its security matched its strategic importance. Henry had finally been allowed through security, but only after explaining the purpose of his visit several times to the armoured droids at reception. He had been scanned, probed, poked and electronically tagged before they would let him take a single step inside the building. Everyone was on edge after recent events.

  Now that he was inside the White Spear, he found it strangely quiet. It was normally such a bustling place, full of activity, but there were a lot less soldiers around today. Many of the Commanders had gone out on combat operations. Others were still investigating the remains of Havers Compound. Many had gone into Cinnamon City to deal with the multitude of riots and protests that took place every day. A lot of the accommodation units were empty too, their previous occupants having died at the Battle of Havers Compound. An eerie silence filled the corridors.

  Henry had managed to find his way to the corridor that led to Gail's office. Now that he had arrived, he stepped slowly towards his fate. The door to Thompson's office was fifty paces in front of him. Polished marble formed the path to her door. Henry took a deep breath. Was it too late to think of a way out of this? Yes, it was too late. With an extreme effort, he gathered his meagre courage and strode down the corridor towards her office, still hoping he would think of a great spin to put on events before his fate was sealed.

  He stopped in his tracks when he noticed three figures at the opposite end of the corridor. The two short men were barely half as tall as the giant between them. Memories stirred. There was something about the way the short men rolled their shoulders that made Henry's spine tremble. They ambled along on bent legs, their bald, bony heads protruding from rough brown robes that hung loose around their necks, stopping just short of their knees. Henry had seen such men before, not in real life, but in one of his digital volumes. The drawings had been in one of the oldest volumes he possessed. These were not men. They were clerics. Their genetic heritage was unique. Some said that they were not entirely human. They never showed themselves in the city. Henry had almost dismissed them as myths, but here they were, two clerics walking towards him.

  They were closer now. Henry could see their faces. Rough folds of flesh hung from their cheeks like old men, but their bodies were hard, wiry and strong. Their eyes glowered towards him like prowling panthers.

  Henry took a step backwards. He wanted to turn and run, but he couldn't stop himself from staring. His feet felt like they were frozen to the floor.

  Between the clerics, strode a huge man with a black goatee beard in a dark grey robe that reached almost to the floor. His head barely cleared the ceiling, and his broad shoulders were wider than his well rounded belly. His piercing green eyes stared straight through Henry with such intelligence and understanding that he felt naked before them. All his secrets fell to the floor like autumn leaves. Henry found it hard to breathe. Memories stirred. He had met this lord once before, over twenty years ago. It was Lord Colloran Hades, Techno Prophet and head of the Council Of Lords. Green eyes penetrated Henry's mind, raping his thoughts as he stood helpless before them. Henry held onto his bladder. He felt his face twitching involuntarily. He tried to step backwards but his feet refused to move. He couldn't remember when he had last inhaled.

  Finally the green eyes released him as Lord Hades turned to face Admiral Gail Thompson's office door. He didn't knock. The clerics stepped in before him. Henry heard Thompson scream, and then he turned and ran, faster than his unfit body had ever moved in his life. H
e kept running until he fell heavily several levels below. And then he got up and started running again.

  A Different Kind of Death

  Nick woke to bright sunshine and the smell of disinfectant. Somewhere in the distance he could hear a dog barking. He remembered being awake before, or maybe it had been a dream. There had been many such dreams. His days had bled into a single stream of time with neither start nor end. Time had become... something else.

  Nick looked up and saw a man in a white lab coat leaning over him with a smile. 'I'll tell them you're awake,' he said, stepping out of the room.

  When he returned, some time later, there was a woman with him. She smiled too. Nick looked to her right and saw more people entering the room, a tall man with a cane, and another man who looked familiar. Names popped into Nick's head as they approached.

  Roy Helleron.

  Jacob Helleron.

  Behind them, two men in lab coats craned their necks to see what was going on. Nick watched them all with mild interest. He wondered what they were all so interested in. He felt calm and rested. They stood around his bunk as he lay there, staring back at them. Were they waiting for him to say something? Nick tried to speak but his voice wasn't there. He couldn't work out what was wrong with it. He had no pain. He felt no stress. He couldn't feel his lips or mouth. His voice just wasn't there. It was as though he had never spoken before, and yet, the words he wanted to say were still bouncing around in his head, wondering why he wasn't saying them. Nick tried to scowl but he couldn't do that either.

  'How do you feel, Nick?' Roy said, his face becoming larger as he leant closer. Thin ridges beneath the skin of his forehead marked where he had been recently injured, but the skin was whole again now.

  Nick stared out of the window, past the end of his bunk. It was sunny outside. He could see a tall tree blowing in the breeze. Warm sunshine bathed the lush green lawn. It was a beautiful garden. There were some people sitting by the tree, eating a picnic. Nick tried to smile but he couldn't seem to work out how. He wasn't alarmed. Somehow he just knew that everything was all right.