by S A Asthana
“So, it seems like Marie is alive and well,” mother noted with a toothless smile. “Guess the plan didn’t work, Frankie.”
He didn’t respond.
“Well, now you’re a true Sydneysider.” Father raised a finger as if he was toasting the failure. “Our best laid plans don’t quite seem to pan out.”
“Correct, Timmy.” Mother chuckled. “You’re bang on.”
“Yeah, bang on,” Father affirmed.
A flat television screen played a Nipponese broadcast in the background. Marie stood next to Yukito as she wore the traditional Nipponese attire meant for formal occasions. She’d managed to become their empress. Incredible.
Alice had failed. Soon everything would come crumbling down. It was only a matter of time. A dread filled his stomach and its acidity bleached the lining with discomfort.
Mother sang, “Here comes the sun, doo doo doo doo. Here comes the sun, and I say it's all right.” Her smile seemed possessed.
“Little darling, it’s been a long cold lonely winter,” Father continued the song. “Little darling, it feels like years since it’s been here. Here comes the sun, here comes the sun, and I say it's all right.” His eyes were large and without pupils — haunting, ghost-like.
“St-stop it,” Frank mumbled. “Please.”
The hallucinations now sat on the couch with him, father on the left, mother on the right. Their faces resembled decaying corpses with patchy skin clinging to bone. Lipless mouths moved, “Little darling, the smiles returning to the faces. Little darling, it seems like years since it’s been here. Here comes the sun, here comes the sun, and I say it's all right.”
“Stop!” Frank bolted up, pulling at his disheveled grey hair.
The figures disappeared, as did the song. The living room was as quiet as the Martian surface on a windless day. Its dim lighting calmed him some, but it was momentary relief.
Miss Ota punctured the silence with her sharp Japanese accent. “As Nippon One simultaneously mourns The Great Massacre and celebrates its new Emperor and Empress, there is anger towards the Sydneysiders.” Two pictures flashed — Bastien Lyons and Alice Smith. “These two Martian army officers, one discharged and the other currently enlisted, seem to be behind the murders. We have footage linking the two to one another, and security footage from the royal penthouse placing the man at the scene of the crime.” Miss Ota came back on the screen, her hair short, thick glasses severe, and her business suit black. “While several investigations are underway, it has become clear Port Sydney’s aim was to create chaos within our great city.” She shook a fist. “But despite their best efforts, we continue to be resilient. The Martians chose to break Article Five of the Trilateral Treaty — Sovereignty of Colonies, which stipulates one colony’s interjection into another colony’s political process will be considered an act of aggression. This, as our justice system has supported, triggers Nippon One’s use of Article Two, The Right to Defend — the same act Port Sydney invoked to justify its invasion of New Paris. And, furthermore—”
Frank turned off the television. He wanted complete silence. But the sound of a memory played under the spotlight of a flickering recess light in the kitchen. Beneath the light two men argued — Frank in earlier days, and Bastien.
“This is a slippery slope, and you know it,” Bastien said, his face red. “If this purge is allowed, you don’t think another will follow eventually?”
Frank pointed at his subordinate and barked, “You will address me as General.”
“Titles? That’s what you’re worried about in all this?” Bastien sighed.
“Yes, I worry about my title. I have earned it.” Frank slapped his chest. “I have obeyed orders when the situation demanded it. I have done what was needed. It is why I am General.” Licking parched lips, he softened his body language. “Look, you have a bright career ahead. You’ve done great things for us, and the Council sees amazing potential in you. I see amazing potential in you. Everyone does. But you just… you just need to get in line. Like me. Standing in line isn’t a bad deal.”
Silence swelled to fill the kitchen. “No.” Bastien snatched the nine stars off his uniform one by one. They were discarded in a heap, a trash pile of brass, a decade of a remarkable military career now useless on the white floor.
Frank’s tone turned sharp. “What… what are you doing?”
“I am not a murderer.”
Frank straightened. “Deserting ranks is against regulations and the law. You are aware of this?”
Bastien nodded. “These people need to know what’s coming. They need to know their military has turned against them.”
“Oh, I see. And you plan on being their savior? Once a righteous buffoon, always a righteous buffoon,” Frank said, his nose held high. “When you wear our red uniform, you follow our rules. I should have known better than to promote you to this level. Its duties are beyond you.”
“At least I’m not a monster. Your own red uniform doesn’t stand for what it once did.”
At the sound of this sentence in his ears, Frank picked up the living room’s sleek white center table and hurled it at the kitchen. It crashed into the refrigerator, blowing away the memory as if it was nothing but smoke. He fell to his knees and his shoulders shook as he cried. His heart beat harsh in his ears. The mighty General, relegated to nothing more than a whimpering mess.
“General,” a soft voice cut his earpiece. “the High Council would like a word with you.”
“They w-would?” Frank stammered. “Right now, Mindy?”
“Right now,” she sang. The line went dead.
Frank stood with a dry mouth. He pressed his lips tight, his gaze spearing the apartment’s narrow exit door.
∆∆∆
The General walked the length of an empty, austere hallway, his footsteps echoing against white walls. The narrow door at the end was guarded by a soldier in red fatigues. The young man didn’t salute as he usually would. He ignored Frank altogether, his stare cold and distant.
Frank entered a familiar room, one with elevator doors lining two of the four walls. A circular dirt patch at the center showcased a lean crepe myrtle firmly rooted in the soil. The tree’s canopy nearly touched the ceiling. Frank usually detested the sight, for it reminded him what could never be on the red planet, but today he paid it no mind, He entered an elevator and hit the tenth-floor button. Floors swept past the elevator’s window slowly. The Terraforming Floor was first. Then came R&D. Both were vacant and dark as usual. The familiar journey to the military floor was colder now that the temperature had been lowered.
The elevator halted and Frank stepped out. A single-passenger, self-driving shuttle pulled up, and he boarded. “To the High Council.”
The shuttle sped down a wide hallway. Military men and women, all dressed in fitted, red coats and pants, ignored their superior officer. It was as if he didn’t exist anymore. A row of televisions running along the hallway played the Nipponese broadcast. Miss Ota continued to shake her fist while spewing nationalist sentiment.
The 1.V10 loomed large in the docking bay. Despite burn marks splintered across its white exterior, the spacecraft appeared as menacing as ever. The angel of death — a creation of his mind. Just like most everything on the military floor. He’d done so much for Port Sydney. A squadron of Team Alpha, Mars’ top-tier unit and Frank’s brainchild, practiced melee combat nearby, and not a single soldier acknowledged him. Ungrateful wretches. No recognition, no respect, no nothing.
The hallway to the High Council was just ahead. Frank’s usual steel stare was absent, replaced now by something shakier. A part of him wanted to make an escape. The thought clawed at his mind and begged him to board the 1.V10 and burst his way out of Port Sydney. From there he could make his getaway to wherever he chose.
But where would he go? To Nippon One? Whatever political capital he had with them was now just a memory. He’d be arrested, surely. Then there was Earth, the solar system’s hell. What would he do there? Sur
vive inside the 1.V10 until he couldn’t find any more food or until one of those fogs seeped inside and ate him to the bone? The truth was, there was nowhere left to run. He needed to face the High Council as he had countless times before. The difference was that this time he wasn’t sure if he’d survive the encounter.
∆∆∆
The three artificial creatures loomed large at the end of the briefing room. Their faces appeared even more sinister. Were those scowls or just his imagination playing tricks? The sweat in his eyes made it hard to focus.
And what the hell was Alice doing here?
“Why are you here?” Frank walked up to his subordinate, his chest puffed out. “What is this?” The words came out stronger than intended — a side-effect of having nothing to lose.
“You will not be asking questions today,” the Zeus of the three boomed.
Frank gulped. As flustered as he was, Alice was a picture of calm. There had been no usual nervousness on her part as he’d approached. “But she’s only a Lieutenant General,” he spat. “How can she be allowed in here?” His grasp on power had loosened. He imagined himself hanging by the side of a cliff.
“Who we allow in here is none of your concern,” Zeus said.
“But… but until recently it has only been me.” Frank held out his hands as if pleading to regain the stature of his seniority. He was like a child begging his parents.
“That was when we deemed you worthy.” Zeus’s words hurt. An equivalent of a slap had been delivered. A headmaster disciplining a student.
Frank shot a dagger of a glance at Alice. “I’m not worthy now?” He taking heat for her failures, the stupid, incompetent freak.
“A nonsensical question, human. Have you not seen the news coming out of Nippon One? It has been playing all over Port Sydney.”
“Of course, I have,” Frank shot back. He was in survival mode. “My bumbling Lieutenant General has caused a complete mess of our diplomacy. If anyone isn’t worthy, it’s her.” He cast a judgmental stare at Alice. She stared back sans emotion. Why was she so damn calm?
Turning back to the High Council, he took a softer approach. “I know you’re not happy about Marie Dubois being alive. I too am not happy about it. But I was told she was killed by this one.” He pointed at Alice. Keeping his forefinger trained at her, he continued, “She lied to me… to us! And then, she plotted to kill the Nipponese royal family. She—”
“She lied about Bastien Lyons being killed as well?” Zeus cut in.
Frank fumbled, “That… yes… exactly.” He was a child caught in a lie trying to gnaw his way out. Unconscious laughter, one fueled by anxiety, escaped his lips. Eyes wide, he continued, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh. I… look… she lied all along, that’s the point.” He cleared his throat. “Her lies are incredible. But what would one expect from a creation born of a petri dish, after all?” He tugged at his sweat-soaked collar.
Alice remained composed throughout the accusation and stared at him with a blank expression. Why wasn’t she concerned? Why didn’t she defend herself?
“What would one expect from a creation born of a petri dish?” Zeus echoed. “The same thing one might expect from an artificial intelligence born of code. Efficiency. Skill.”
Were they taking her side? His fingers were loosening at the edge of the cliff. “Okay, okay — I understand your position,” Frank said with palms up. “But you must understand mine. My information was only as good as her word. And her word, as it turns out, was misleading.” He kept deflecting blame in hopes it would stick to the intended target.
“But you promoted her,” Zeus boomed. “Didn’t you assess her ability to be deceitful while considering her as Bastien’s replacement? Are you not qualified to make that call?”
“I… I… didn’t realize… I—”
“To surmise, you are telling us you could not gauge this officer’s character when promoting her, and then, when the time came to manage her, you were duped into her lies?”
He was being made to seem an idiot.
“And then, she lied to such an extent? About Bastien, and then about Marie? And if all of this was not enough, she plotted to overthrow the Nipponese royal family in such an inefficient manner? And Port Sydney would be blamed for the murders?”
“Exactly!” Frank shouted. In his mind, he was an amateur detective — grasping at disparate pieces of circumstantial evidence to make his case. Even he wouldn’t believe his own lies. One hand had come away from the cliff entirely. Frank dangled by fingers.
“You spit bald faced lies, Frank. You lie so much you cannot even keep it clear within your primitive brain.”
Something snapped. Perhaps another twig in the dead forest. “Fuck you!” Frank shouted. “You wouldn’t be in the position you’re in if it weren’t for me. I rallied the citizens to give you the reins to Mars, and this is the goddamn thanks I get in return.” He was out in unknown territory now. No one had dared raise their voice at the High Council. “I’ve been in power since before you were even cooked up. And now you stand over me and judge me. Holographic fools.”
“I suggest you calm down,” Alice finally spoke. Her voice mirrored her peaceful demeanor.
Frank, on the other hand, was a frothing creature of ill control. With rage boiling his brain, he screamed, “You will address me as General.”
“You should worry less about titles at this point,” she remarked, “and more about this audio file.”
As Frank’s face twisted into a look confusion, Alice requested, “High Council, would you mind replaying the audio file from September 14, 2209 — the one titled fr43321.aud?”
“Certainly, my child,” the female AI answered.
My child? Why would they refer to her as my child? What the hell is going on?
A mechanical din permeated the room’s white walls. A speaker in the wall emitted the words, “Computer, delete conversation history for past hour.” It was Frank’s voice, harsh and severe. “This conversation, that video — it never happened.”
Alice had recorded the fateful conversation between them — the one where Frank had commanded her to keep things secret from the High Council. “The High Council cannot know the truth,” Frank spoke in a near whisper. “As far as they are concerned, Liberate New Paris was a success. Sure, our troops were killed, but Marie was also killed.”
“And Bastien?” Alice’s voice was low, but audible.
“What about him? He died in the crash with Cube days ago.” Frank stood. “We never saw him on this video.”
He leapt to more conclusions on the recording. “Let’s play this out. Marie either finds a way to escape Earth, or she dies there. There’s nowhere left to go since New Paris is destroyed, so, if she wants to live, she will head to Nippon One. And Akiyama will provide her cover given their… ties.”
The sweat poured down Frank’s brow as he heard his plan in full. “Now, Akiyama is a political chess master, so he won’t advertise any of this. He wouldn’t want to come across as someone who harbors criminals. Marie did break the treaty multiple times — no one would want to give her asylum publicly.”
“But he’d still be breaking the treaty,” Alice said. “He should be confronted, and Marie extracted.”
“Absolutely not.” Frank shouted. “We have strong trading ties with Nippon One—water, aluminum, magnesium, titanium, the list goes on and on. The last thing we want to do is affect them because of this mess. Don’t be a machine. Don’t be the High Council, thinking in right and wrong, in bits and bytes. There is a lot of grey here to be considered.”
“But—”
“Silence!” Frank cut her off. “No more arguing with your superior. There is going to be political fallout with Nippon One because of our assault on New Paris.” The audio remained crisp and clear. “The two were trading partners, after all. We would have to figure out how to pacify the situation. I will work with Akiyama directly on that. He is a sensible man. He will understand why we did what we did. The Trilatera
l Treaty is not just some useless document.”
“What about Marie?” Alice asked, her voice higher. “She’s an unpredictable variable.”
“Your point?”
“The point is that… what if she gets to Nippon One and then publicly blasts you for invading New Paris? Everything, including her being alive, and perhaps even Bastien being alive, would come to light, and that after you have informed the High Council she was killed in the attack. Your lie would be found out.”
There was silence, and then, “Damn.” He could be heard despite a slight crackle in the audio.
“We should…” Alice paused, “…tell the High Council the truth.”
“Do you want blood on your hands, Alice?”
“I’m not sure I understand, General.”
“Allow me to help you understand, then. There are two certainties. If we tell the truth, the High Council will purge me. That is the first certainty. Then, they would want Marie hunted down. The treaty is hardcoded within them, and they’d stick to it no matter what. If it came down to it, I suspect Akiyama would protect Marie. You know what that means, Smith? There’d be a trade war with them. Then, there’d be an actual war. That is where all of this will inevitably lead! War between the last two colonies. Humanity’s end. No more you. No more me. That is the second certainty.”
Frank’s heart was racing as the recording of the scheme played out. “Figure out if Marie is alive.” A stretch of fabric pierced the audio. Frank remembered pulling Alice in by the collar. “Find someone local in Nippon One and have them take care of her — before she becomes the reason for mankind’s end.”
“I-I’m not sure if I’m comfortable with this.”
“You’re an accomplice now.” Frank’s voice remained clear. “A companion in my hell. You must do this. Or we all die. There will be consequences for us all.”