Diamond Rain: Adventure Science Fiction Mossad Thriller (The Spy Stories and Tales of Intrigue Series Book 2)

by Michael James Gallagher

Chapter Six

  General Chou's Game

  Within earshot of St Mary-le-Bow’s church in the East End of London, there is an eating emporium which makes it into all the Michelin guides. ‘Ben’s Fish and Chips’ is indeed special. During the day, tourists fight to get in the lines in front of the establishment. At night the crowd changes to locals, inebriates and workers on their way back to their apartments.

  A kid with spiky hair stumbled his way with his friends into Ben’s and ordered his usual on the way home from a binge. A portion of good, greasy fish and chips was definitely needed to soak up the several pints of ale sloshing around in his stomach.

  “How much did you say, mate?” he said.

  “Twenty-two pounds.”

  “Twenty-two quid my arse. When ’d the price change?”

  “Sorry, mate, it’s the new Chinese tax.”

  “Fooken slant bastards. I ain’t paying it,” he said in a sudden fit of anger. He pitched his wrapped order over the glass partition of the counter, missing the cashier by inches.

  He and his friends tipped over tables and spilled onto the street, intent on starting a fight with the first oriental man they found on the street. It was a poor decision; today was not destined to be their lucky day.

  Hours earlier, in parks all over London, pairs of young Chinese men launched handheld drones over the city and slipped back into the crowd unnoticed. The drones circulated and anyone of Asian origin, both tourists and residents, heard someone talking to them in their own specific dialect of Chinese. As if hypnotized, they all halted and looked up. The fog descended on or seeded its targets. Each foglet contained face recognition technology on its neural network. Every Chinese person got a new suit. At first they stumbled around, overwhelmed by the cacophony of voices in their heads. For each of them, changing from being an individual in control of his destiny, to part of a connected social unit possessed by a single-minded purpose, took some getting used to.

  The familiar voice dominating the multitude of other voices commanded them to await the signal and to prepare to follow orders. They nodded dumbly. As newly indoctrinated ‘walkers’ they felt safe and strong. Many learned the power of the suits fast. Some took advantage but most followed orders, just as intended.

  A man called Chao happened to be walking near Ben’s Fish and Chips when Spiky and his friends spotted him. His suit warned him, not them. At first, Chao tried to follow the directive to make himself inconspicuous, but the unlikely mixed group of punkers and skins gave him no choice. Others gathered around watching the spectacle.

  “You see that? The ‘chink’ disappeared and reappeared an’ those two freaks fuckin’ socked each other. Holy fuck,” said one of the drunk onlookers.

  A gray mist surrounded the gang, obscuring the show for bystanders. Anguishing moans came out of the haze and then all at once, the thugs staggered out into plain view. All of them were holding their eyes and blood seeped through their fingers. When they took their hands away from their faces, only bloody eye sockets stared at the crowd. Panic let the culprit walk away calmly, but similar scenes were repeated all over the city. And the globe. Attacks on Chinese people were met by a sudden and extreme reaction.

  CCTV had caught the Ben’s Fish and Chips group and someone leaked it onto the internet. YouTube broadcasts of the terrifying power of the Chinese suits went viral.

  The effect was dramatic and inescapable. Although resentment against the Chinese grew, so did the fear of retribution if there was any resistance to the taxes. The elevated prices resulted in something of a wartime spirit for the phlegmatic British, reluctant to give in to coercion. But for most of the world, faced with accepting the usurious demands of the Chinese or suffering, even dying, there was little option. The Renminbi was about to become the world’s reserve currency and there was nothing anyone could do about it. The twenty-five percent consumption tax negotiated in return for not attacking the world after the fall of Qatar and the failed nuking of the Chinese on Armageddon Valley started to take its toll on the world’s financial systems.

  ****

  Thomas exercised his mind and his suit. He needed to try a new test, something he hadn’t attempted before. With a supreme effort of will he partitioned his mind and projected a part of it into a newborn suit, a physical but limited replica of himself. He was satisfied, at least for now. Through several previous iterations of testing he had discovered that he couldn’t make infinite numbers of the diamond suits. Their molecules resisted more than a few generations of copying and even Jean Pierre's new modifications of the helix couldn’t yet solve the problem. Jean Pierre and Yatsick worked day and night to upgrade the storage system but a breakthrough eluded them. The solution was somewhere in the future.

  Thomas arranged to meet Sue Ann and persuade her that they needed to resume their tasks as professional journalists. Although he wanted to join her in person, it seemed better to him that he used the replica; he simply had too many things to achieve back at Yona Street and Yatsick’s facilities. He sent the limited replica to Sue Ann, monitoring it all the time.

  The ploy worked. Sue Ann was absorbed in her work and her goal of professional advancement to the point that she didn’t notice Thomas’ apparent absence of mind, at least, not enough to cause her concern. On the second day of their series of interviews of victims of ‘suit swallowings’, as the incidents came to called by Londoners, Sue Ann and pseudo Thomas stopped at the Ben’s Fish and Chips in the East End for lunch. They had an appointment with the cook who had sold the spiky guy food. They were going to catch him before he came on his shift.

  “Wanna try the fish and chips, Thomas? It’s on me,” said Sue Ann.

  “Fish and Chips?”

  “Jesus Thomas, you’re a bit thick. Jetlag or what?”

  “Maybe. Tired too.”

  There’s something weird about him. He’s really on the ball about his job but there’s a creepy space in his social skills. Sue Ann offered to get the food since she was paying, but couldn’t shake the strange vibe she was getting from Thomas. The old Thomas would’ve insisted on getting the stuff and probably never would’ve let me pay. What gives?

  When she returned with the tray of food, she couldn’t help but ask.

  “Hey, space cadet, you sure you’re okay? You look kind of out of it.”

  “No really, I’m fine. Just tired, like I said.”

  The cook appeared at that moment.

  Saved by the bell, thought Thomas. Their interviewee smiled at them and sat at a table beside Sue Ann. Thomas busied himself with the camera end of the story. The cook didn’t have anything new to contribute, but millions of news junkies sought out Sue Ann’s slant since the success of her coverage of earlier parts of the Chinese invasion. Her treatment of the issue combined with Thomas’ clips had become the benchmark to beat. As a team, they couldn’t go wrong.

  Meanwhile, in cities all over Europe, America, and Australia, in fact anywhere where there were Chinese, General Chou flexed his muscles. Drone ‘seeders’ fed sleepers that had been planted all over the world. The sleepers in turn launched drones filled with the contents of small containers concealing nanofog that they had received by mail on a regular basis. Some of the drones got lost or destroyed, but most returned to the places they were launched, ready to be used again to replenish the fog of their controlled social network. The beauty of Chou’s plan rested in its simplicity and succeeded based on the sheer numbers of players.

  On the eastern coast of America, people noticed loads of Asian tourists at the Jersey Shore, but despite the news from everywhere, most people locally thought little of it. On the evening news, just before the weather report, one newscaster in Jersey City even said: “It could never happen here,” in reference to the nanosuited invasion ‘over there’.

  Most media outlets remained focused on racism against blacks. Even though governments were monitoring the situation, and people grumbled about the new taxes and higher prices, none reacted until every city in the US and
Europe found its airport and boat terminals flooded with oriental families made up mostly of young men. Police departments in beach communities like Ocean City started expressing concern first but it was too little, too late. Reports showing unusually high concentrations of Chinese outside of traditional ‘Chinatowns’ raised some alarm bells.

  In cities where law enforcement purchased a spying technology, tested in Afghanistan and Iraq, and mounted on the bottom of airplanes, the search for witnesses to the Chinese invasion took on the form of dropping into the middle of a murder mystery. The camera system resembled equipment used by Google for making maps.

  In London, after they’d seen the cook, Thomas and Sue Ann interviewed the senior police officer responsible for the new system.

  “Look at this,” said Chief Inspector Kilpatrick.

  “Looks like a bunch of dots. I thought you’d be able to see the people’s faces. How can this help you solve a crime?” Sue Ann asked.

  “It’s all about patterns. Look, here’s our offender from the Fish restaurant. Now look at the dot he’s approaching. See, they touch and the melee starts and finishes. Very definite.”

  “C’mon, Chief Inspector. So the dots are in a pile. It’s useless information. Looks sort of like Monty Python. Surely you remember those guys dressed up in old ladies’ clothes pretending to enact the Battle of Britain again-"

  “Well, Sue Ann, if you don’t mind me interrupting and calling you by your first name-”

  “No problem, Chief Inspector.”

  “Good police work is mostly persistence and legwork. This technology lets me follow suspects right back to their homes. Watch. I can color that spot on the screen and it’ll show up all the time. Let’s make it red. Red Chinese, eh?”

  “Jesus, I never thought of that. I mean I didn’t know you could color code the dots. So you don’t need the face. You just go and get the bad guy based on his habits.”

  “Ah, the penny drops... Good, eh?”

  “Well, did you get the Chinese guy who removed those peoples’ eyes?”

  “We followed him with no problem and we sent a Tactical Unit to arrest him early this morning. The strange thing was that he’d vanished. He just wasn’t there. He never left the house – we’d have seen that - and we didn’t find any tunnels or passageways. It just doesn’t add up.”

  Sue Ann smiled and signaled for Thomas to end the recording.

  “That was great stuff, Chief Inspector.”

  “Thank you, Sue Ann. Will I get on the telly or the Net?”

  “Net for sure. Can’t predict news content on the TV. Editors sift that stuff, but you might make the news shows ’cause this is breaking technology.”

  “Excellent. Make sure I’m not misquoted or taken out of context. The Police Complaints Authority is very hot on individual interviews.”

  “As if!” Sue Ann laughed.

  Chinese consumption taxes and the strain of buying Renminbi at elevated rates amounted to extortion. Deflation reared its ugly head compounding the problem. Though China won the opening gambit of this unusual war, its management of the power stemming from its new economic clout based on reserve currency status lacked skill. The habits of centralized government and the old regime would die hard. As a result of centralized mismanagement, growth stagnated and demand for goods dropped.

  Chinese bureaucrats didn’t grasp just how much money the world economy needed to stay liquid, in fact a lack of understanding of financial principles hampered their progress in many areas. Almost overnight, banks stopped trusting each other and borrowing slowed to nothing. Confidence in the economic system rested on a delicate balance and it couldn’t tolerate an abrupt change in the reserve currency. Unemployment, first in the periphery of the system, then in the most industrialized countries jumped to unprecedented rates. This combined with disappearing demand for goods and services created a difficult mess to unscramble.

  Faced with a world depression after a just a few weeks in power, China, flush with military success, searched around the globe for sources of support for its free-falling currency. Russian gold, oil, reserves and minerals looked tantalizing.

  ****

  Sino-Russian relations had fallen to historical lows when a seemingly random Russian Akula submarine succumbed to strong currents while passing close to Oman on the way through the Strait of Hormuz. It was the Admiral's first and last miscalculation as captain of the rogue Akula. It had been captured by the Chinese; the information it provided was more than significant.

  Closer investigation of the vessel proved beyond doubt that the tsunami wave that destroyed Qatar originated on the vessel. The Admiral’s log provided conclusive proof of the origin of the devastating tsunami in Indonesia and contained the exact text of the order to sink Qatar and destroy the Chinese conquerors there. Doctor Rostov and President Orlov’s gamble, unfortunate for the comrades yet beneficial for the Chinese, provided all the excuse they needed to set the ‘walkers’ loose on their former ally, Russia.

  Since the time that Orlov brought prosperity and order back to Russia after the lawless period of the oligarchs’ reign, a cohort of Chinese merchants had spread without settling down around the country. Though most resided in The Far Eastern Federal Districts, many traded even in Moscow. Chou’s fury at Orlov’s apparent arrogance and treachery in attacking Qatar, justified opening up a new front, even though the Russians denied responsibility for the attack vociferously. The new Chinese conqueror harnessed Chinese nationals and seeded them with small drones in Moscow in addition to focusing the attention of all of the dormant ‘walkers’ in Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan and Uzbekistan on pillage in Russia.

  ****

  Despite Lau's official promotion to general, Chou kept him waiting in an anteroom before ushering his technical genius into his newly refurbished living quarters at the command post of the original staging ground for ‘The Second Long March’. Lau hadn’t seen Chou for some time and was curious if recognition had changed the man. Outwardly, he wore the same shapeless blue cotton outfit sported during the Cultural Revolution by diehard communists. There’s something else. He’s exuding a different energy, more sure, more comfortable in his plans. When Chou spoke, his tone had changed. He dispensed with the usual Chinese formalities and went straight to the point of the meeting.

  “General Lau, have you brought me good news?” Chou asked. Without giving the younger officer a chance to respond, he continued: “Is the upgrade ready?”

  “As you know, Sir, this programming of an upgrade of this magnitude is-” Lau wanted to ensure that the effort was appreciated.

  “No more excuses Lau. My ‘walkers’ were advancing on Moscow and this morning I received news that they've stalled once again. Most of them are malingering in the suburbs instead of making for the center of the city and the banking district.”

  At that moment, Lau noticed a new solid gold statue of Mao Zedong on a pedestal in the corner. It became apparent only because Chou absentmindedly clapped his hands to emphasize his power over Lau and in doing so he activated the statue’s lighting system. Lau saw it, and its significance immediately. Gone is the pretense of the peasant marching with Mao, he thought. His true character is rising to the surface like the bile from poor quality food.

  “It is ready, Sir.”

  “When will you upload?”

  “I have completed the upload, Sir. The future is awaiting your command. You may confirm it with just one click of the mouse.”

  Chou beamed at Lau’s bowing and scraping and stood up to leave the room and go to the underground command post.

  “General Chou, Sir. Please be at ease. I programmed a secure direct connection for your personal use here in your quarters. From now on you may command replenishments and speed up or slow down the progress of your troops at will.”

  Lau handed Chou a tool similar to a remote car starter. The general turned it over in his hands admiring the way it fit in his palm. This man never ceases to amaze me with his abilities. Perha
ps, if his program succeeds I will free his mother. She’s almost dead of old age anyway. I lose nothing now and perhaps he will work harder still. I’ll just take a little insurance. Having that reporter in my grasp’ll keep him enthusiastic. Yes. That’s what I’ll do, thought Chou.

  “Allow me, Sir," said Lau as he took the control apparatus in his hand and demonstrated its workings. “First open your plasma screen at the battlefield view station. Next, point and laser click on the word menu on the screen. You may also touch the screen if you prefer instead of using the controller. Now, you can see your ‘walkers’ in the drone’s nose camera. Simply either touch the screen menu to replenish or use the laser from a distance to accomplish the same task. Last, watch the immediate outcome on your soldiers on the ground.”

  As they spoke a group of very lethargic men on the ground in the Moscow suburbs rose to attention and started organizing to march into town. The drone then autonomously searched out other groups of Chinese ‘walkers’. Each group sprang to life in the same manner. The plasma screen then moved into satellite mode and Chou saw how all of the drones were replenishing spent carbon suits and engaging his troops.

  “General Lau. I commend you and your work. It is truly impressive. These treacherous Russian scum will learn about stabbing me in the back. They will pay for trying to kill my troops in Qatar. I am so pleased that I will send for your mother and see to it that she joins you here at the command post. Soon you will have a new home to accommodate the two of you.”

  Lau couldn’t help himself. A tear escaped from his left eye before he managed to gain control.

  “There's plenty of room where I am now, Sir. No need for the expense of a new bunker.”

  He had not seen his beloved mother for almost ten years because of this man. She was not harmed but isolated in an inhospitable village and Lau had only been permitted to communicate once a year with her. As each anniversary approached, Lau had been obliged to come up with some dramatic plan to either aggrandize the general’s power or increase his wealth using computer technology.