by Nick M Lloyd
Aytch loaded up the details of a company Gadium had set up called Merrily Associates. Jeremy Benedict believed it was a legal company specialising in divorce proceedings. They used Jeremy for observation of cheating wives or husbands, they paid online, on time and full rates. Jeremy had unknowingly delivered Gadium mini-bots all over the UK: embassies, army bases and nightclubs. The very small size of the mini-bots made them susceptible to vagaries of the weather so any long distance travel was done by unknowing couriers.
Justio wrote and dispatched the email to Jeremy.
Dear Jeremy,
Slightly strange one for you this time. I need you to investigate a very sensitive subject. I rely on your ingenuity and on your absolute discretion. I have a client who is very keen to understand the extra-marital activity of Jack Bullage. He has recently escaped a serious car crash and he is actually unmarried himself; but we have reason to believe he has been seeing people who are married.
At this moment please just build up a set of background information of what he has been doing over the last few months.
As before, we will pay you a retainer of £50 per day and then an additional £25 per hour for all relevant activity related to investigating Mr Bullage. We are particularly interested to understand the nature and cause of the car crash he was in; although we don’t think there was any foul play we would like to rule it out.
All results can be sent to this email address.
Signed
Merrily Associates
Justio looked at Aytch. ‘Done.’
‘I just want to avoid Trogia-like mistakes.’
Justio’s eyes widened and smiled. ‘Setting the bar that high, eh?’
‘Although I suppose we’ll get the right result on Trogia ultimately.’
The smile quickly left Justio’s face. ‘Our mistake condemned many Trogians.’
Aytch nodded and busied himself checking that the Jeremy Benedict email had launched correctly; then he went back to his cabin.
Alone in the crew room, Justio chuckled to himself as the details of Jack Bullage’s previous miracle escapes were fed back to him by the ship’s hopelessly underequipped computer system. The first escape was a court-room escape in which he had been found not guilty of something insignificant. The second escape was when a disgruntled journalist had thrown a brick at him. Repression of AI has given us data matching not much better than random.
For a moment Justio considered speaking to Aytch and calling off the surveillance. But, after a few moments of thought, he decided against aborting the mission. Bullage did escape a serious crash, and I want to get moving anyway.
Back in his cabin, Aytch was happy with his participation in the day’s discussions. The previous interesting activity on Earth had been many years before, and Justio had taken all of the decisions pretty much unilaterally. This time Aytch was confident he would make an equal contribution. It was important, too, the ship’s logs would be scrutinised in any promotion review, and he had to be seen to be taking an equal role—or even driving the Gadium agenda.
Aytch turned back to his revision programme. A few things had come up he really needed to take a deeper look at. The prospect of Jack Bullage being a Triple Alpha (unlikely but possible) prompted him to look at the role of Aware Triple Alphas in Non-Emerged Civilisations a.k.a. ‘The Despots’.
Aytch triggered the communications tablet to show the relevant sections.
Chapter 8.1.A—Despot Breach
Overview
There is little risk of a Despot situation starting once a civilisation has Fully Emerged, for two reasons: Firstly, a Fully Emerged species contains almost all Alpha individuals, who benefit from a level of subconscious protection—so the threat from a Triple Alpha is lessened. Secondly, after Full Emergence (when everyone is at least an Alpha) there will be many multiples of Triple Alpha individuals—the early adopters. With multiple factions all having access to Triple Alpha individuals the relative power of any one individual is severely limited.
However, within a Partial Emergence (or in the ramp up to a Full Emergence), with relatively fewer Alpha individuals (~1%), any Triple Alpha individual will be less likely to face significant numbers of other Triple Alphas, particularly given:
1. The onsite Gadium mission will not support (and must try to suppress knowledge of) Alpha to Triple Alpha conversion until the whole population is in an Alpha state
2. The simple existence of any Triple Alpha individual will stop additional Alphas naturally transitioning from the Beta population (so the population of Alphas from which another Triple Alpha could convert will not be increasing)
So, a self-aware Triple Alpha in a Partial Emergence will have unprecedented control over the host population.
Aytch knew all of this and it worried him. Before he’d left on the mission, Sharnia had drummed it home to him with her fists, Despot Breaches were to be avoided at all costs. ‘You end up having to kill almost all of them,’ she had said. Aytch wasn’t sure which all she meant, and he hadn’t asked for clarification at the time. He turned back to the narration.
Chapter 8.1.D—Despot Breaches
Professor Harkin Commentary
‘Partial Emergence Despot situations are uncomfortable because removing the self-aware Triple Alpha is difficult and generally forces the Gadium mission to come into open conflict with the host species ruling party, which in turn brings the issues of alien awareness.’
Aytch lay back on his bunk and decided to enter a two-hour meditative regeneration trance. This was standard procedure on a weekly basis to give the conscious and subconscious parts of the mind some uninterrupted healing time. He wanted to be at the top of his game once the specific surveillance from Earth started giving results.
Chapter 13
Late on Wednesday evening, Louise crashed through her front door in a jumble of concurrent activities, planned out on her walk back from the tube: shoes off, keys down, laptop out and booting up.
‘Hi, Jeff!’
A voice came from the kitchen. ‘Hey, love! How’s it going?’
Entering the sitting room, Louise replied over her shoulder. ‘I’ve found a few more accident survivors. Some of these new ones had really special escapes.’
‘More than just special because they survived the accidents?’ Jeff walked into the room. ‘Should we try to survive a bunch of accidents and then ask ourselves if we feel special?’
‘I had a thought on the way back from the tube.’ Louise looked at Jeff. ‘Could we set up some experiments to test luck?’
‘Looking for what exactly?’
‘Luckiness!’
‘Can you be a bit more specific? Clearly we can’t do car accident survival.’
‘You’re the scientist, Jeff.’
Jeff stood resolute for a few moments then wilted under Louise’s stare. ‘Look, Mike’s coming for coffee tomorrow morning. I’ll discuss it with him.’
Louise walked over and gave Jeff a kiss on the cheek. ‘Don’t either of you ever actually go to work?’
Jeff replied with mock solemnity. ‘The academic life is not work Louise. It’s a calling…and a burden.’
‘Bollocks.’
At 8am on Thursday the phone rang. Louise had already left, so Jeff answered. ‘Hi, Mike, how’s it going?’
‘I’m a few minutes away. Just warning you to give you time to get dressed.’
‘I’m ready now, Mike.’
‘I know that…but are you dressed?’
A few moments later, Jeff welcomed Mike into the house with a cup of coffee. They walked into the living room where a new flat-packed coffee table stood half constructed with the cardboard box lying close by.
Mike looked at the coffee table, then back to Jeff. Then he put his coffee cup down, took off his jacket and picked up an Allen key. ‘Someone been on the North Circular recently?’
Jeff stooped down and pulled away wrapping from the
various piece of coffee table that hadn’t found a purpose yet. ‘She wonders if we could do some tests. But I’ve no idea what we could do.’
‘So she’s serious?’
‘Is she ever not? She’s not going to drop it.’
Mike attached a leg to the table and tightened. Jeff passed him the various pieces required by the instructions. ‘I suspect it’s a surrogate for the pent-up frustration triggered by her nemesis.’
Jeff remained silent.
‘Is there any possible way we could get unusual results from a luck experiment?’ Mike attached the fourth leg. ‘Perhaps…’
‘Well, she’s at the MOD tomorrow, so we can wait to see what she gets.’
The table did not take much longer to finish. Mike collected all the wrappings and Jeff, picking up the coffee cups, followed him through to the kitchen where Mike filled up a recycling bag. They sat at the kitchen table.
After a few moments of silence, Jeff spoke. ‘What do you think?’
Mike looked at his watch. ‘I have a fundraising meeting in an hour, and I have to prepare for it.’ He paused. ‘I’m pretty open to the unknown, but if Louise progresses this we’ll really need to suspend our disbelief.’
‘Don’t I know it!’
‘Semantics aside, the existence of focusable luck—the ability to effect apparently random scenarios—is almost certain not to exist.’
Jeff could see the wheels whirring behind Mike’s eyes. Was there something more? There was. Jeff waited expectantly for Mike to continue.
‘But you see, Jeff, the likelihood of the actual existence of focusable luck is significantly higher than the likelihood of us being able to prove its existence using current scientific understanding.’ Mike paused. ‘You know—the stuff what we know.’
Jeff sat at the kitchen table for a few moments thinking his way through this latest statement. Not the goldmine he’d hoped for.
‘But, as we discussed in the pub, there are some very disturbing philosophical issues brought up in quantum mechanics. So we could have a look there, if only to help design an experiment.’
Mike left for his fundraiser and Jeff returned to the living room to try out the new coffee table. It supported his feet beautifully as the morning television guided him through the breakdown of modern society.
Much later, Jeff made his way to the university. Once there, he went to the science common room and started jotting out a few notes on the key tenets of the strange behaviours in quantum mechanics. Many-Worlds…Copenhagen. After a while he stopped, exhausted, Mike was right. Given their current knowledge, a proof was impossible.
As Jeff was finishing off, a few researchers wandered in. One of them spied Jeff in the corner and made his way over. ‘Hey Jeff, how’s the world of metallic materials? Still a conducive subject?’
Jeff groaned inwardly, both at the pun and the reminder. His subject was under severe funding pressure. The world had moved on from metals; his colleagues in ceramic material science were getting larger research budgets, while he laboured on with much less. ‘Yes, we’re still plodding away.’
The researcher nodded in sympathy. ‘We’re struggling to get any money for our quantum computing but the organic computing research is getting a trickle. Just enough to keep us going.’
‘Where’s the big money going?’
‘The guys across the hall get most of the cash for their neuroscience work. But I can’t be too upset, it’s linked to genuine medical research.’
Jeff murmured an empathetic response and the researcher wandered away. Jeff swore under his breath, redoubled his efforts on his planning, and sent a quick text to Louise to wish her good luck for the upcoming interview at the MOD.
Not that she needed luck. She was a great reporter, and well respected at the Daily Record, even if she didn’t see it.
Chapter 14
Early Friday morning, Louise arrived at the Ministry of Defence to conduct the interview with General Crowley. After being held waiting for around twenty minutes, Louise was ushered into the General’s office. The General looked up at her over his glasses, and put his papers aside as she sat down. ‘Ah, Mrs Harding, thank you for making time for me.’
Louise nodded deferentially and made herself look as demure as possible. ‘Thank you, General Crowley, for making time for me.’
‘So, you are here, hopefully, to discuss the impact to the UK in the case where Scotland gains a legal remit to remove the UK’s nuclear weapons?’
‘Yes, General, I’ve had some initial briefings from our military correspondent at the Daily Record, but I’m here to get some comments, off the record of course, to weave into the piece I’m writing.’
‘Good. That’s what I agreed with Sir Stephen.’
Louise nodded. ‘Yes, his instructions were clear. Albeit I got them second-hand from one of his assistants.’
The General smiled affably. ‘The gist is: it will be very expensive to move the weapons, the Scots currently get the benefit of the security, and they have the largest expanses of unpopulated areas.’ The General paused while Louise made notes. ‘Frankly, they get a lot of jobs from the bases also.’
The meeting went on with Louise asking a few gentle probing questions, allowing the General to expand on the complexities. It was clear to Louise the MOD would not make it easy, irrespective of the democratic rights of the indigenous Scottish people.
Once the initial discussions trailed off, Louise played back the major themes, and the General nodded appreciatively. He relaxed visibly when it was clear the Daily Record was going to produce a piece of reporting which was very sympathetic towards the British Armed Forces.
‘Thank you, Mrs Harding. As you know, the army has a very good position in the nation’s heart at the moment and we want to capitalise on this.’
‘General, I understand your position, and the position of Her Majesty’s Armed Forces. I’m very pleased to see we are in total accord.’
Looking downwards, the General started shuffling his papers on the desk. The meeting was over. Louise leant forward. ‘It’s a shame the recent extra empathy feeding the army’s standing in the nation’s heart must be paid for with the blood of your soldiers.’
General Crowley looked up at Louise and held her gaze for a few moments. Louise instinctively held eye contact, and then, catching herself, looked away abruptly. The General put the papers down and spoke quietly. ‘I know. I know…Every car passing through Wooten or Brize enhances our influence. Machiavelli would be proud.’
A silence began to stretch.
The General unexpectedly stiffened up and leant forward. ‘Totally off the record. Obviously, full Scottish devolution is off the menu for a while, but we have a back-up plan for that eventuality.’
Louise’s interest was piqued. ‘I suppose you will have to dismantle the military bases in Scotland. Turn the real estate into hotels?’
The General motioned Louise to lean forward some more, and tapped his nose. ‘No, the day after full devolution, we…invade!’
Then the General threw his head back and laughed. Louise joined in. The General passed a piece of paper to Louise. Louise gave it a quick scan; it held a few direct anonymous quotes for Louise to feed into her piece.
As she started to get up from her chair, Louise paused. ‘I know what I’m about to ask is highly irregular, but I have a personal request.’
‘Go on, but I can’t promise anything.’
Louise spun her story. ‘My mother’s best friend is dying. This best friend, Elsa, is very proud of her older brother, who in the 1960s was a member of the Armed Forces, the Welsh Guards. He saw action in a few places before coming back to England to take up an administrative post.’ Louise paused. ‘He died in 1964 and Elsa was never told why or how. The official line was he was involved in an industrial accident. His body was never provided for burial.’
Louise paused and choked back a few sobs. ‘Elsa is very old and frail now. I wou
ld love to give her a final gift of knowledge. She investigated the death many years ago, but got nowhere except he was involved in a…Project Hedgehog.’
The General looked impassively at Louise. ‘Well, it is irregular, and the name means nothing to me, however 1964 was a long time ago. Let’s see.’ The General opened up an MOD archive application on his computer.
Louise watched as his eyes went wide, not quite out on stalks, but with a noticeable shock.
Crowley took a breath and looked back to the screen. Project Hedgehog 1962 - 1965: Ultra Black. Experimental tests to determine existence of psychic powers. Closed down after notable disappearances. Tests were universally unsuccessful. Linked to Platoon RZ3.
General Crowley had never come across an Ultra Black rating before, even from his days in SAS operations; neither did he know what Platoon RZ3 was. ‘Elsa must have been tenacious, even to find out her brother may have been on this project, but I cannot confirm anything.’ He paused. ‘I am sorry, Mrs Harding, but this project is top secret. I’m not even aloud to repeat the name. There’s nothing I can do. Sorry.’
After Louise had thanked him and left, the General sat alone for a while. Given Project Hedgehog had an Ultra Black rating, he needed to make a formal report to the MOD Internal Affairs team. He really should not have confirmed Hedgehog existed, much less told Louise it was top secret.
He phoned the MOD Internal Affairs team to notify them of the security breach. An old colleague was soon on the phone and the General explained the full story regarding Louise’s presence and her questions.
The MOD Internal Affairs man told the General that he had logged the event and marked it as no need to follow up as there had been no material breach of security.
Later in the day, an automated process sweeping the MOD files generated an alert to the MOD G60 team.