by Dale Musser
The motivation behind these particular actions is not about how much damage they do to our military,” I said. “It’s about the psychological damage they do to the citizens. Even though less than one percent of the people in the Federation are directly affected by body bombings, everyone becomes terrified of the possibility of one, possibly even more fearful than they are of an enemy attack by a fleet of asteroid-ships. They can detect and physically see a ship, but they can’t tell who is a body-bomber. Every gate transfer to get to work could be their last. Every shopping trip or gathering with friends at a restaurant could turn into a disaster. Every unknown person they pass on the street could be a body-bomber, and they wouldn’t know until it is too late.”
“Well I still don’t see how Ming gets people who are willing to blow themselves up,” Marranalis said.
“He does it with drugs, slave collars, brainwashing and mental conditioning,” said Wabussie. In most cases, the bombers have no real idea of what is going to happen to them.”
“Right,” I said. “The same manipulation was used back on Earth. There were members of various terrorist organizations who blew themselves up for their cause, because they believed they were going to receive all kinds of rewards for their violent deeds in their afterlife. Mind control is a tremendously powerful tool, especially in the hands of a malevolent leader.”
“But that’s what I don’t understand. With all the information and educational material available to the public, how could anyone not see how crazy those ideas are?” Marranalis said.
“That’s where the brainwashing and control come in. The leaders of those cults gradually begin restricting what their followers would read, watch and hear. They were given lots of material to read, but all with a very narrow perspective. They listened only to what their leaders wanted them to hear and in a short time the follower only believes what he sees and hears as presented to him by the leader. Surprisingly, it doesn’t take all that long to do with most people, if you can isolate them from the rest of the world. If you bring mind controlling drugs into the picture it can happen even faster, but if indoctrination begins in childhood, drugs, slave collars and blackmail may not even be needed.”
“So you think Ming has brainwashed the people he captures?”
“Only a portion – the ones he plans to use as body-bombers and the like. The rest are just slaves under the control of Ming’s elite who, even though they’ve been granted special privileges, answer to Ming without question for fear of their lives and the lives of their families.”
“And you think if you kill Ming the Brotherhood will crumble? No one new will take over after Ming?”
“Ming’s paranoia runs too deep to allow any one individual to know how to run the entire Brotherhood network. If he’s gone, no one will know how to take the reins of power and continue where he left off. Some many consider trying, but it would amount to only a brief and feeble attempt to do what Ming and Roritat had accomplished.”
“It would be nice if that happens,” Wabussie interjected. “I mean, if we were able to go back to peace like we had for six hundred years before the Brotherhood insurgence.”
Marranalis pondered silently for a moment before sharing his thoughts. “So much has changed since you came here, Tibby. The advancements with the learning headbands, the solbidyum and solbidnite reactors, 10X fusion reactors and flight speeds a hundred times faster than we had before. Instant communication across the vastness of space. The big star ships that were the greatest thing we had back then are all gone now, except for the few the Brotherhood captured and still use. The Cantolla Gates have made those completely obsolete. And the gates themselves are probably the most amazing change. It used to take us years to travel or communicate from one side the Federation to the other. Now we do it in the blink of an eye… all because of you Tibby.”
“Not because of me. All those things you mentioned are because of A’Lappe and Cantolla. They’re the ones who should get the credit,” I said.
“Don’t be so sure, Tibby,” replied Wabussie. “If it weren’t for you and your money, where would Cantolla be right now? She’d probably still be employed as a college professor, working by way of an occasional government grant that would allow her to research something on a limited basis using funds that aren’t even sufficient to do a fraction of the proposed work. As for A’Lappe, who knows what would have become of him. If the NEW ORLEANS hadn’t been sold to you, that yacht may have ended up being scrapped and A’Lappe would have had to find a new place to hide. He may have eventually found a new employer, but his efforts would have been directed to what his employer wanted and not toward the wonderful discoveries he’s made in your service. No, Tibby, like it or not, even if they did the work, it still was pretty much because of you that these things came to be. I’d probably still be the security officer on the MAXETTE and Marranalis would still be a trooper. We probably would have gone up in rank some, but it’s unlikely that either of us would have achieved the ranks we have in our careers. It’s been because of our association with you that we are who and where we are today.”
“I still say you’re giving me too much credit,” I protested.
“Hm, I doubt the Ruwallie Rasson would agree with that. Where would they be, if you hadn’t intervened and brought about reconciliation with the Federation?”
“That was more Padaran’s doing than mine,” I said.
“Really?” Marranalis chimed. “And what about the androids? Do you think the Federation would have come to a cessation of war with the androids were it not for you? And you brought about an end to slavery on both Goo’Waddle and Alle Bamma… are these things someone else’s doing as well?”
“Well, maybe. But before I came here you had peace. You could have gotten along nicely without the solbidyum and solbidnite and the learning headbands. You were happy with the starships and GW pod communications. All I’ve been for you is a bringer of war, death and destruction.”
“Tibby, listen to me,” said Wabussie in a serious but different tone, as he tried to break the heaviness of the conversation. “You have no idea how boring life was before you came here.”
With that both Marranalis and Wabussie cracked up laughing… and they managed to get a grin out of me.
My meeting with Pheosa was basically a repeat of the earlier one, during which he expressed the concerns of the Senate and the people and asked questions for which I had no answers. There was a more desperate tone in his voice and I could tell he was frightened of where things were going. I couldn’t blame him. I was frightened, too, and I’m sure it was evident in the tone of my own voice. Ming had found a terrible tool, one I had no idea how to defend against. Action needed to be taken immediately, but what that action was I hadn’t a clue.
Toward the end of our meeting, I must have been showing my own bewilderment, because Pheosa stopped talking rather suddenly at looked at me a moment, then relaxed and smiled as he said, “I’m sorry, Tibby, I realize you have done – and are doing – all you can. You’ve done more than anyone for that matter. I realize that what we ask of you is more than is humanly possible, but you’re the only one who seems to be able to come up with solutions to these situations and the people have come to expect it of you.
“How are things going in your search for Ming? Is there any good news on that front?” he asked, shifting the conversation slightly.
“Actually, we may have a new lead. Senator Yungman’s sister, the woman we rescued at Alamar-4, is beginning to recall events that may contain details pertinent to our search. Wabussie’s FSO people are questioning her about it. I don’t need to tell you what it would mean if we could find and kill Ming.”
“Yes, I agree. Do me a favor, Tibby… and this is just between you and me… if you do find that Izurian mindat, make sure he’s dead and don’t try and bring him back to stand trial.”
“I’m in total agreement. The best Ming is a dead Ming. We certainly don’t need to create any circumstances where he could esc
ape. We at least know he’s dying, but that could mean anything…days, weeks, or even years before he finally expires. But he knows or at least senses that his time is short and he wants to dominate the Federation before he dies. I think that’s part of his ramped up activity. Between the madness associated with the disease and his malevolent obsession with power, the awareness of his mortality may make him become even more desperate and dangerous as he intensifies these attacks. I think his desire has now shifted from wanting to rule the Federation to simply wanting to defeat it. He doesn’t care if he destroys all life in it, just so long as he wins.”
“Yes, I can see where that makes him extremely dangerous,” said Pheosa as he turned to lookout the huge glass window. “But back to the main reason I asked you to meet with me… is there anything at all we can do to stop or prevent these biological attacks on our worlds?”
“I wish I could think of one,” I answered. “Unfortunately, I don’t have any answers and neither do my teams. I’ve consulted every expert on the topic, including the scientists who were present when Ming used biological warfare on Earth.”
If I had hoped that my meeting with Pheosa would be the worst part of my day, I would have been wrong. I was barely back on the GLOMAR ROSA when the word came in that Commander Embrodie, who headed up the military bases on the Federation world, Sambal, had received a package he believed to be from his wife. When he opened it, a pressurized gas cylinder was activated, which released an agent into the atmosphere. Within a short period of time, he and any others in the immediate area had become ill, and though they were still alive, they were in rapid decline with what we were now calling Ming’s Disease. The only good news was that the pathogen had been contained to the base. Upon realizing what had happened, Commander Embrodie had the forethought to quarantine the base within seconds. Orders were issued immediately for all personnel to don HAZMAT suits and anyone showing the first signs of illness were sent to a second doubly-quarantined area within the base. Because of his quick actions, only twenty-six people had thus far been identified as having contracted the illness. The problem now was what to do next. We had no idea how long the pathogen could survive outside a host and we knew that chemical sterilization techniques were ineffective. We weren’t sure about other methods, like strong ultraviolet light or other radiation methods, as we hadn’t been in a position to test those methods thus far. Until we found a way, those people in HAZMAT suits were trapped in them. I decided that it was time to take Wabussie’s suggestion and call in A’Lappe and Cantolla about the problem.
Since A’Lappe didn’t like to leave the NEW ORLEANS, I decided to meet with him and Cantolla on the ship. I had made arrangements with them in advance; nevertheless, Cantolla wasn’t there when I arrived and A’Lappe was busy with Rory when I arrived.
“Ah, Tibby, I didn’t realize it was that time already,” he said when I walked in.
“I understand. Time flies when your busy, A’Lappe,” I replied. “Has Cantolla arrived?”
“I haven’t seen her,” he replied. “What’s this all about? When you called to set up the meeting it sounded somewhat urgent.”
“It is,” I said. “But I’d like to wait until Cantolla arrives before we begin discussing it.”
“Did I hear someone mention my name?” said Cantolla as she entered the lab.
“Indeed you did,” I said, “If you and A’Lappe will join me in the conference room, we’ll get started right away.”
“Will you need me too?” Rory asked.
“No, I don’t think so, Rory. This has to do with germs and I don’t think you like to talk about germs much.”
“No, germs are yucky. I like other things like reverse magnetic force fields and spaceship engines,” said Rory. “I’ll just stay here and work on this.”
Once inside the conference room and before I said anything, Cantolla spoke up. “So this is about the biological weapon the Brotherhood is using. I had a hunch it might be.”
“Yes, I’m afraid it is. It spreads quickly, it’s airborne, and it’s so far fatal in every case within thirty-two hours. It’s capable of living outside a host for several days and it changes its form. The two life phases have different symptoms and it is equally contagious in either phase. I’ve brought along a vid chip with the information and images we’ve been able to capture thus far.”
“Any chance of getting hold of a specimen?” A’Lappe asked.
“No. Even if there were a safe way to obtain a specimen, the risks would outweigh any gain we would make in the lab. It’s significant to note that Nibarians living or working on the contaminated worlds appear to be unaffected by the pathogen. Our biggest problem at the moment is finding a way to protect the millions of people who are so far not infected, but they’re trapped on these quarantined worlds. How can we safely rescue them before they contract the disease? We also have a new incident today involving thousands of troops in a quarantined base on Sambal that are essentially trapped in HAZMAT suits, but we can’t help them, because so far we haven’t found a decontamination method that will disinfect their suits. As soon as the seals on their suits are broken, they will become infected. At the moment, they’re confined to those suits. They can’t come out to eat or even relieve themselves for fear of infection.”
“It might help if we knew the origin of the disease,” A’Lappe said.
“I’m afraid I can’t help you there. It was most likely something cooked up in a lab by Ming’s scientists. I wouldn’t doubt it if his people created a vaccine or cure for it at the same time. Right now, we’re calling it Ming’s Disease.”
“Have you tried putting any of those infected into stasis?” asked Cantolla.
“Hm, not that I am aware of, but I don’t know how useful that would be. There can’t be that many stasis units on a planet, certainly not enough to sustain entire populations.
“Why don't we ask a team of Nibarian scientists to go to one of these worlds to conduct a thorough study of what’s happening, since they’re immune to this plague?” Cantolla said.
“Yes, but then what do we do when they are ready to leave?” asked A’Lappe. “We can’t expect them to stay there indefinitely on a quarantined planet.”
“We’ll just need to rely on the Nibarians who are already there. If there aren’t any trained Nibarians among the science teams, we can guide the most skilled individuals we can find as they conduct additional tests and collect any supporting data we may need. It’s not the perfect arrangement, but it should work,” Cantolla said.
“What about the androids?” asked A’Lappe. “The pathogen wouldn’t have any impact on them.”
“True,” I said, “But the androids aren’t part of the Federation. They came to our aid at Glomar Rosa, but only because they felt they owed me a debt and now that debt has been paid. They have no real incentive to help us this time.”
“Maybe there is something we could offer them for their assistance,” A’Lappe said.
“Possibly. Let me think about it. In the meantime, I need the two of you to focus on this problem. I would suggest you speak with Doctor Danjuma about it and check the Earth data cubes for historical information. Ming used germ warfare on Earth and he may be using similar techniques and strategies again. If we can learn what he did in the past, it may give us clues as to what he will do next. Ultimately, we need to figure out the origin of this pathogen, whether it’s naturally occurring or engineered, and if it is naturally occurring, we need a vaccine or a cure… or both. Maybe you can engineer an airborne nano-biotic that will kill the damned thing.”
“It might be tricky, if it’s morphing into a different form someplace in its life cycle,” said Cantolla. “It certainly will be a challenge.”
“I agree,” A’Lappe said. We'd probably need to design a pair of nano-biotics and combine them in a single treatment.”
“Or maybe we’d only need to treat it in its second form since that’s the form where it’s fatal,” proposed Cantolla.
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��I don’t think that would work. Remnants of its first form may continue reproducing and the victim may simply never get well. We still don’t know what phase the pathogen is in when it reproduces. As far as we know, it may be able to reproduce in both forms,” replied A’Lappe.
“True. We’ll just have to wait until we perform the tests,” Cantolla answered. “Tibby, we’ll get right on it. I’ll put my top people on it and get them in touch with Doctor Danjuma’s team as soon as we speak with her.”
“Great, I’m counting on the two of you to come up with something,” I answered.
Instead of going straight back to the GLOMAR ROSA after I finished my meeting with A’Lappe and Cantolla, I went to my study on the NEW ORLEANS and contacted Verona, the Control Room Communications Officer, and had her place a call to Chief Banker Arjuk Norcar on Weccies. A few minutes later she notified me he was on the line.
“Chief Banker Norcar, I’m glad you could take my call,” I said when his image appeared on the vid.
“Admiral, it's always a pleasure to speak with you. I trust this call isn’t prompted by some crisis or danger…?”
“No, sir, nothing like that. I think it’s time I pay a visit for a wealth management review and put together a will to ensure the financial security of my family, in the event something should happen to me.”
“I see. You have something in place now, though, do you not?”
“Uh, I’m afraid not. I suppose I could deliver all kinds of excellent excuses, Chief Banker, but in the end, I just never gave it much thought until recently.”
“Hm. Not good. Not good at all,” said Norcar as manipulated his database and frowned at the results. “Were you to die now without a will in place, First Citizen Kalana would be awarded only twenty percent of your estate holdings and your twins would each receive only ten percent. The other sixty percent of your worth would be awarded to the Federation. You definitely need to create a will immediately. I can make arrangements for you to meet with our top estate attorneys whenever you wish.”