“We already generated three hundred auto-injector kits, each loaded with atropine and 2-PAM. They’ll counter most common agents. Yates will start distributing them along with all these guns to your crew and our survivors pretty soon. In a worst case scenario, they should at least save us if not all the people in the Hub.”
In the background, Pierce saw the screens outside the replicator pulse with brilliant flickers of lights. There was a deep hum in the air as the replicator drew in electrical power. The lights and humming noise subsided and the large side door of the replicator capsule slid open to reveal stacks of adjustable body armor. Yates, Groves and Lynch carried them out and placed them on pushcarts, also synthesized for transporting material around the halls of the Labs. There were other stacks there, filled with firearms, body armor, ammunition boxes, helmets and medical supplies.
“Captain!” Sandoval shouted from the dock’s portside hatch. “We’ve got some activity here!” The chief stood looking out the hatch’s window at the corridor beyond.
A group of eighteen people walked through the port hallway towards the aft end of the Labs. Two of the group were dressed in the black military kit of the intruders, all the others clearly being Dirac personnel.
“They’re putting people to work on fixing the collider,” Pierce said. “At least that buys us more time, for whatever that’s worth. Looks like they really don’t know that it can’t be fixed.”
“What do you suppose they’ll do once they realize it?” Sandoval asked.
Pierce sighed as the crowd of people passed out of sight. “Your guess is as good as mine. But I guarantee they’re not just going to give up. And if they can’t produce any new antimatter to bring back, then they’ll want one of the filled containers stored outside, in space.”
“And you won’t allow that, ma’am?” Sandoval said with a hopeful tone.
“Damn right I won’t. I’ll bargain for as many hostages as I can, and I’ll let these thugs think I’ll negotiate safe passage home, but out there in that container field is the line I won’t cross. On Earth, any one of those fuel containers wouldn’t just be a weapon, it’d be a full-on doomsday device. They don’t get to take one, no matter what losses they dole out here.”
“Why would they even want something like that?”
“Deterrence. And power. If everyone in the room thinks you’re unhinged, you’re treated one way. If they know you’re holding a bomb, you’re treated differently.”
Sandoval looked down the empty corridor where the group had walked. “I think you’re going to have a tough decision to make, Captain.”
CHAPTER 18
The White House – Oval Office
12:00 p.m. (1700Z), 24 December 2065
“Send them in,” President Loughlin said. Her chief of staff held the oval office door open for the same three who had been in the room an hour earlier, then excused himself.
Drennan, Stendahl and Stone entered to find Loughlin standing alone behind her desk. Whatever emotions she may have had were hidden behind an unsmiling mask.
“As I’m sure you can imagine, I have some questions.”
“Of course, ma’am,” Stone said.
“Here’s the way I see it. You’ve conspired to send half the world into war, confident beyond the point of arrogance that your own ideological goals can be achieved with a predictable minimum of cost. You’ve also threatened me with political ruin if I try to stand in your way. For this, I ought to have you all arrested and charged with treason.
“But your original plan seems to be breaking down, hence your coming to me with options to get it back on track,” she continued. “Moreover, I would be foolish to believe that you wouldn’t have already put in motion plans to trigger one or two options if I didn’t agree to help you. I could’ve had you all arrested an hour ago, so you would’ve planned for that. Am I correct?”
Eli Drennan looked at Stone, who was reading the display in her contact lens and gently nodding at Drennan.
“Yes, I’m recording this,” the president said, pointing towards her eyes. Her contact lenses were doing the same thing as Stone’s. “You’re damn right I am. I know you are as well.”
Drennan’s eyes met the president’s as he thought the chess moves over in his head. “Of course we’ve planned for it, ma’am.”
“So, you have two priorities. One is the consummation of the second cold war. The end of the Hrąs al-M’umnyn and the overthrow of the theocracies it protects. The second, higher, priority is containing if not destroying this ‘soft replicator’ technology before it’s fully developed. To ensure that both priorities are met, you’re willing to destroy the DA’s most advanced and most expensive research facility, along with hundreds of our brightest people. To better guarantee that this happens, you now want my help.”
“That is rather succinct, ma’am,” Stendahl said.
Loughlin wanted to strangle them all. Their nerve, their unbelievable hubris. The urge to signal the secret service, to have them arrested and tried and sent to prison for life was almost irresistible.
“First questions. Have any other nations or private organizations been working on this replicator technology? And if not, could they develop it without our knowledge?”
Drennan answered, “Not that we’re aware of, ma’am, and it’s pretty unlikely. They’d have to risk violating the Eisen Plan and build an illegally powerful SAI first. That would be hard to detect, though not impossible. More importantly, they would then have to perform a battery of experiments with a strong particle accelerator. That’s far easier to discover, and it hasn’t happened at any of the ones here on Earth. It’s only been done at Dirac.”
“You said that the prototype can already replicate inorganic material. Is it inevitable that it’ll replicate organic matter?”
“It is, and there’s already a timetable for a few months from now. One notable sticking point is how closely it can copy organic brain matter. Specifically, memories. A person could be physically scanned and copied, but the duplicate might either be a mental vegetable or only have a rough approximation of the original’s memories and personality. However, consider what medical nanosensors can do already. Most people involved with the project think a near-perfect copy of a person could be done.”
“Next question. Supposing there still is a Dirac Station by tomorrow, is it possible for me to simply shut down this project? What I told the world that I discovered the existence of it, realized the threat, and stopped it from happening? Or even if I didn’t tell the world, and did so just the same? Dirac’s a DA facility, and this replicator project is entirely US government-owned.”
“Theoretically, yes. Realistically, no,” Drennan said. “We’re already too complicit in the Sleipnir SAI’s existence. By ‘we’ I mean the whole damn country, according to the treaty. And it’s no use trying to shut down the prototype replicator and delete all the designs on Dirac while trying to keep the SAI behind it a secret. Every molecular physicist in the world would know that we couldn’t build it to work without already building an illegal SAI first.”
“Next would come the subpoenas and depositions from the surviving scientists from that lab, the ones home on holiday leave right now,” Stone added. “The U.S. would suffer repercussions of violating that treaty, and that would include you as well, ma’am. And to top it off, the rest of the world would know that the replicator really is possible. Would you trust every other nation not to try and reinvent it? No, the project needs to be completely destroyed, and all evidence of Sleipner gone.”
“How would we do that, besides destroying what’s at Dirac?”
“The specs and designs for it are all kept onsite, on Dirac Station. They’ll be destroyed along with the equipment. Then we’ll need to have tighter oversight and make sure the remaining project members never take up that work again. The knowledge that it even existed will be reduced to a rumor.”
“You mentioned oversight. If this thing is destroyed, how do we stop it from
ever being re-developed? By us or by anyone else?”
“The oversight is for our own scientists,” Stone said. “Make them sign non-disclosure forms under penalty of prison, and we can never fund it again. For everyone else capable of inventing it, we make sure they’re too scared to try. I mean educating them to be too scared of the technology itself, but I also mean too scared of us. Personally, I favor back-channel options. Make sure a select few national leaders know, very discreetly, that the destruction of Dirac was our own doing because of this device. If they know the extent to which we’ll go to make sure that even our own people don’t invent it, they’ll draw the right conclusions.”
Loughlin sighed. “Well, you’ve answered just as I thought you would.” She sunk into her chair while the others remained standing. “The other issue,” she said. “If the war doesn’t happen, how exposed will your general be?”
“Dead in the water,” Drennan said. “Candemir either takes power in Ankara or literally loses his head within the next couple days. Certainly most of his network would be undone. Since that missile took out our satellite, their existence is exposed and they’re in hiding. If any from the upper levels are captured, they can bring down others.”
“What about the United Caliphate? Or others in the HM, like Pakistan?”
“Hard to say, but General Candemir and some of his people have contacts outside Turkey. Those countries will turn over every rock looking for their own opposition groups, and if they get tips from what the Silvers uncover then it won’t help those groups stay alive.”
“And if the war does happen, how likely are these rebels to succeed in taking power? Start with Turkey.”
Drennan continued. “In Ankara, there’s an excellent chance. Candemir’s network is well organized and ready to step in with a provisional government, though it’ll be a junta at first. Organizations in other countries seem less prepared, but we know that they’ll make efforts. It may be vital, though, that we have the resolve to force the current regimes out and back up the new ones. This is one reason why we’ve come to you.”
“All of it depends on public revolts inside those countries,” Stone added. “The coups need some popularity behind them, otherwise they’ll fail.”
“And all of that requires Dirac to explode,” the president said. “A bright, terrifying blast in the sky for the whole world to see, followed by a quick war, with all the blame falling on the HM. I’m clear on that much. But here’s my question… are you sure that popular revolt will really happen? Even if all the other pieces fall into place?”
“We assess that it will, ma’am,” Stendahl said.
“There it is. Right there is your biggest unknown. I don’t think you have as good a finger on that pulse as you think you do. I’ve been thinking about this. You all studied the first cold war in school. Do you remember the U-2 incident in 1960? Or the Bay of Pigs in ‘61? Those were ugly embarrassments for the U.S., but few remember that the approval ratings for the president actually went up after they happened. Different presidents from different parties, no less. People appreciated that their government tried to do something against the Soviets. Don’t you think the people in the HM countries might see an attack on Dirac the same way? We’re the great infidels who point weapons at them from orbit.”
“We’ve considered all that,” Drennan said. “You’re right that some people will stand by their regimes no matter what. But don’t forget that neither the U-2 fiasco nor the Bay of Pigs resulted in a war. And we have plenty of indications of a strong undercurrent of resentment, especially in Turkey. Most people just keep their heads down and deal with life under their regimes, but few are true believers. When people see that leaders like that have brought them to ruin, they rise up and demand change. We’re looking at a potential 1989 here.”
“Also, most will see a new government as just a passing change in leadership,” Stone said. “Few will have the foresight to see that it truly means the end of their theocracy. Perhaps they’ll have those concerns in the United Caliphate, but we may be able to leave the caliph as a cultural symbol with no political power. Japan got to keep their emperor after World War Two, but only as a figurehead.”
The president shook her lowered head. “I’d like to have the time to debate this point longer. A lot of time. I’d like to consult panels of sociologists and State Department cultural experts, which I assume you haven’t done,” she said. “But time is not a friend here, and I told you I’d give you my decision.”
Loughlin paused, tapping a finger on the desk while looking at Drennan. For the first time in all her sixty years, she found it hard to speak.
“Tell me about this option for signaling your man on Dirac.”
“I have a contact at SPACECOM ready to transmit messages to Arcadia Base on Mars,” Drennan said, leaning forward. “Arcadia will re-transmit them to Dirac. It’ll take a bit of time, but if the raiding party on Dirac still has effective control of the station, that’s our best bet to verify it and proceed. The first message is just a written report, informing the station that there’s been a total loss of signal on our end from the relay satellite. It doesn’t elaborate on the missile. If we get a response back from the commandos, or no response at all after an hour, then we can send the second message. Included in the text will be a ten-digit code labeled ‘relaymark’. But the numbers are actually access codes to Dirac’s thrusters. My guy on Dirac will be the only one of his team who could recognize the codes for what they are. He’s already planned for this as a backup option, in case he couldn’t sabotage the antimatter itself.”
“Thruster control? How would that… oh.”
“The fail-safe, ma’am,” Drennan said. “To protect Earth. If Dirac moves too far out of position, boom. It’s been part of the station’s design since the beginning. Not that it’s widely known, of course.”
“Why doesn’t your man on Dirac already have these codes?”
“He’s been in transit since the nineteenth, unable to receive anything the last five days. The codes changed when the station’s director went home for holiday leave onboard the Columbus, so my guy wouldn’t have any current ones.”
“For God’s sake…”
“Dirac’s security is about who can access what inside the station, ma’am. At least we have that going for us. They never seriously considered an attack like this. Anyway, it still wouldn’t expose us, and certainly not you.”
“How long would this option take?”
“About four hours from when we say go,” Stendahl said. “Nineteen minutes for the first message to reach Mars, up to twenty minutes for them to adjust their transmitters to Dirac, and another nine minutes for it to reach the station. Then add over double that time for a reply, if we even receive one, and for our second message to be sent back. Then at least an hour before Dirac could thrust itself out of its safety zone. Arcadia will be instructed to maintain track on the station, and no doubt they’ll report if they detect it moving out of position.”
“Couldn’t the others on that team shut down the thrust after your man starts it? I expect they’re going to want to.”
“He’ll lock out thruster control if he has to. Then he’ll shoot himself if he has to. He already expects a suicide mission. As for a direct shutdown by cutting power to the thrusters, he’ll only engage the thrusters if he thinks he can also sabotage the power controls. We’ve had to plan for that possibility, so he’s been trained in exactly how to do it.”
The president looked at a portrait of Franklin Roosevelt on her office wall. As her stomach rose, she reminded herself one of his lesser-known quotes: “Principles are sacred. Rules are not.”
Loughlin sighed. “There are probably other factors about this option I haven’t considered and probably some you haven’t considered either. But like I said, time is not our ally. Your other option, having General Candemir create a violent incident somewhere… do not allow it. It doesn’t need to happen if this works. We’ll have enough blood on our hands alr
eady. Also, you will not mention anything about my involvement to whomever else you’re working with.”
“Understood, ma’am.”
Loughlin turned away from them and gazed at the light snow accumulating outside. It was the first snowfall of the year. Two days ago she had been looking forward to the weather and awakening to an actual white Christmas, so rare in the DC area. She swallowed hard.
“Do it,” she said. “And get out of my office.”
CHAPTER 19
Mediterranean Sea, northwest of Cyprus
19:30 p.m. (1730Z), 24 December 2065
Ozker and Semiha Ozcan sipped coffee with Dilara Demirci at the tiny dining table in the fishing boat’s living area while Kerem and Safiye busied themselves by watching a movie on a tablet. Once out of sight of land, the boat’s crew allowed the refugees to come out of hiding in the cargo hold and sit in the crew quarters which had windows, but they still avoided walking out on the topside decks. No need to risk being spotted by a curious aircraft or drone with a telephoto lens.
“Tell me, my love,” Semiha asked gently, “just how many times have you paid to smuggle people out on this boat?”
Oz smiled his wide, gray-bearded grin. “This is the fifth and last time. Though I want to make something clear, darling. This is the only one I’ve paid for. The others all paid me to pay the crew here. I didn’t make much of a profit.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“I was just trying to keep you safe. You and all of the family. If ever I was caught, I have no doubt that they could make anyone talk.”
“Did Aydin know about this?” asked Dilara.
“The boat? I only mentioned it to him once, a few years ago. One of our young coworkers escaped to Greece this way.”
“There was more than this boat arrangement, wasn’t there?” Semiha asked. “I mean, I know there was a lot more. I just don’t know what.”
“Yes, a great deal more. Which is why we’re leaving now. Sometime soon I’ll tell you about all of it, I promise. And with any luck we’ll be able to come back to our country before long.”
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