If Jericho was being perfectly honest with himself, Masozi was a more attractive woman — both psychologically and physically — than he had encountered since his life on Philippa had come to an end. He knew that he was too old, and too wise, to actually pursue the matter — but even a tired old man’s imagination wandered down the avenues of possibility from time to time.
“Masozi Blanco,” the human woman said as her male counterpart opened an encrypted briefcase by inputting a series of commands, “my name is Schmidt, Shirley Schmidt, and I’m one of Hadden Enterprises’ chief legal counselors. In fact,” she added grimly, “after the events at H.E. One, I may be Hadden Enterprises’ chief counselor since the majority of my colleagues throughout the System have already been arrested and imprisoned. You may consider me a resource in these, and any future, proceedings.”
Jericho had not heard of any such imprisonments, but he supposed it was to be expected. President Blanco knew when the attack on H.E. One would take place since he had secretly given the order for its commencement. At the same time he had all but declared that he would suspend even the most fundamental rights of his own electorate in order to neutralize the sentient assets of entities like Hadden Enterprises.
But he was interested to hear her address Masozi so directly. The corporate lawyers had merely informed Jericho that they would require both Jericho and Masozi for a private debriefing, which he had assumed would deal with the events at H.E. One as the lawyers prepared a legal defense against the actions of the Virgin SDF. To Jericho’s mind, the time for legal wrangling was over but he knew that everyone had their assigned duties and he wished to get this proceeding — whatever it was — concluded as quickly as possible so that he, and the Zhuge Liang, could get back to their own roles.
“I’m not sure I understand what this is about,” Masozi said coolly.
“I think the counselor is here to take our statements regarding the final hours of H.E. One’s existence,” Jericho surmised and Shirley Schmidt snorted derisively, prompting Jericho to arch an eyebrow. When the woman — who was several years older than he was — failed to elucidate, Jericho fixed her with a hard look. He suddenly remembered that he disliked lawyers almost as much as he disliked politicians.
“The final hours of H.E. One were well-recorded,” Schmidt said with a dismissive wave of her hand as the two nonhuman entrants moved toward the briefcase and input their own command codes to its access panel. “Eyewitness testimony of the tragedy, while no doubt proving dramatic, would have little bearing on our collective legal standing in the eyes of the Sector judiciary. No,” she said, returning Jericho’s hard look with an implacable one of her own, “we are not here to discuss H.E. One.”
Jericho raised his brow as the nonhumans followed the human man’s lead. One of the nonhumans was a Klk’whrr, like ‘Jesse Holland’ who served as bouncer to the late Obunda’s favorite watering hole. The other was a Slectra, who were among the more intelligent and psychologically complex nonhumans found in the Chimera Sector — one even served as the bridge’s Comm. Officer.
Those two nonhuman species’ possessed physiologies which permitted them to coexist with humans in a common environment, with almost zero detriment for any of the beings involved. As such they were among the more prevalent examples of nonhuman sentient intelligences which Jericho had been afforded the opportunity and privilege of examining at some length.
“Then what are you doing here?” Jericho finally asked, and he heard Masozi scoff disbelievingly. He did his best to ignore her but with two equally antagonistic women of their stature in the room he felt his blood pressure beginning to rise.
Schmidt all but ignored him as she followed the examples of her three companions, and after she had input her commands to the briefcase it popped open unceremoniously. She reached inside and withdrew a genetic identification device. Jericho recognized it due to several encounters with such objects, which Hadden Enterprises had employed overtly — or often times covertly — to verify the identity of those individuals who were permitted entry to sensitive locales like H.E. One.
He rolled up the sleeve of his left arm and Schmidt shook her head. “The other arm, please,” she said, and he complied. She fixed the large, roughly bracelet-shaped device to his arm and it quickly clamped down tightly enough to cut off blood flow.
Jericho resisted the urge to flex his fingers as several dozen samples of skin, hair, fat, blood, and even bone marrow were extracted via the device’s complex machinery. The process was far from painless, but he had endured worse even as recently as a few days earlier so it was no great strain to his mind to endure the pain. When the samples had been taken, the device released the pressure from his arm and he felt his hand begin to tingle as Shirley Schmidt took the cuff over to Masozi.
“It auto-sterilizes,” she explained after Masozi gave her a wary look, and Jericho had to roll his eyes at the implied slight regarding his hygiene.
“What is this about?” Masozi asked in a tone more akin to a demand than a polite request.
“I can only answer that question if you are who you appear to be; I have a message which I have been instructed to deliver to you,” Schmidt said as she stood unmoving at Masozi’s bedside. “It is my professional opinion that you would do well to receive that message,” she added before finishing, “but I can’t tell you any more than that until you’ve given me the samples.”
Masozi looked like she was actually going to refuse, and Jericho could see the anger smoldering in her eyes. His thoughts began to wander as he considered the inner workings of her mind, but eventually she thrust her right arm forward and Schmidt attached the device to it. Masozi winced several times but did not cry out, which was a testament to her willpower since Jericho himself had been unable to keep silent the first time he had been exposed to the device.
“Thank you,” Schmidt said, and then she went to confer with her colleagues. Jericho and Masozi sat in silence for several minutes as the quartet worked furiously with their individual data pads, but when they were finished they had a collective look of satisfaction on their faces. “This all looks to be in order,” Schmidt said with a nod to her male counterpart. “Denny, would you do the honors?”
The man nodded and went to the briefcase, and after a few subtle motions he revealed it to be a holo-projector. The Klk’whrr dimmed the lights via the switch near the door, and just as he — or ‘it’ — did so, S.R. Hadden’s digitized, enlarged face appeared in the air over the briefcase.
“I fear that my verbosity would know no ends if left unchecked,” Hadden began, and Jericho felt a pang of unexpected anger as he realized it would very likely be the last time he heard the old man address him. Hadden had been an outstanding leader of H.E. and Jericho knew that humanity had been greatly diminished by his loss. “Fortunately, Ms. Schmidt is here to keep me in check,” Hadden continued, and Shirley Schmidt rolled her eyes. “Ms. Schmidt has been, for lack of a better title, my private secretary…a term she despises to no end,” he added with a warm grin, “but in addition to those duties she has served as Hadden Enterprises’ foremost legal mind for over forty years. Our plans could not have been executed without her laborious efforts, and I would like to take this opportunity to personally thank her — I suggest the two of you do likewise,” he said, fixing first Jericho and then Masozi with a penetrating look. Even though it was just a holographic representation of a virtual sculpture which in no way reminded him of Stephen Hadden’s true visage, Jericho felt unnerved by the look the image gave him.
“Thank you,” Jericho said with a curt nod to Schmidt, who returned his nod. Masozi remained silent, however, and Jericho was about to cast a look her way when Hadden’s recording continued.
“The two of you, Adjusters Jericho and Masozi, represent the only real hope for the people of the Chimera Sector,” Hadden explained, “it is, others might say ‘unfortunately,’ your shared responsibility. But since I have long held that authority and responsibility must be apportioned i
n equal measure, I am hereby officially vesting the two of you with direct control over everything I am…or, was,” he corrected with an easy smile, “able to accumulate over the last century so as to aid you in your efforts on all of our behalf. I will leave the particulars for Shirley to explain in greater detail,” Hadden’s image said, as it turned pointedly to Schmidt and fixed her with his digital stare, “but I believe it will suffice to say I would not have assigned this momentous responsibility to the two of you without providing for a reasonable possibility of success. This is my final gift to you,” he said as he turned back to face Masozi, ignoring Jericho as he did so, “and I dearly hope it will act as a conciliatory gesture for everything we have put you through to this point, my dear. Regardless of how you receive this offering, however,” he added as his eyes narrowed, “you and Jericho are now the only people who can follow this trail to its ultimate conclusion before it is too late.” Hadden then turned pointedly to Jericho and said, “See to it he knows who bested him, Jericho — and make sure the people know as well. Do that and all debts between you and I will have been paid. Consider this my official contribution toward your first, long overdue, Tyrannis Adjustment.”
The hologram went dark, and the Klk’whrr adjusted the room’s lighting until it was fully lit once again as Shirley Schmidt stepped forward with a data slate in each hand. She proffered one to Jericho and he accepted it warily while she did likewise to Masozi. Masozi’s expression told Jericho all he needed to know about her state of mind, and for once, they were on the same page.
“Would the two of you like the detailed version or the truncated one?” Schmidt asked expectantly, and Jericho gave Masozi an inviting look.
“We’re in your room,” he said dryly, “so it’s your call.” He seriously hoped for the short version; he hadn’t slept properly in six days and needed to rejuvenate just to keep from seeing double.
“Truncated,” Masozi said after glancing down at the data pad and shaking her head in disgust. Jericho had done likewise, after seeing it was page after page of addendums, qualifiers, definitions and other forms of legalese which didn’t interest him in the slightest. He nodded his approval as Schmidt sighed.
“Predictable,” she muttered before taking in a breath. “The Director determined that this vessel, the Zhuge Liang, shall be placed under your mutual control until the Chimera Adjustment is complete or until it is destroyed,” she added in what appeared to be genuine disinterest, “moreover, all resources and materials within the vessel, including tangible and intangible assets, are to be placed at your direct disposal. The chain of command aboard the ship must remain in place, and all directives must be formally made to Captain Charles, who will be receiving his own revised orders as soon as I have concluded this meeting.”
Jericho shook his head doubtfully. “I can’t accept a warship,” he said with grim certainty, “it’s too far outside the bounds of precedent — even for a System-level Tyrannis Adjustment.”
“You worry about your mission,” Schmidt said coolly before gesturing to her companions, “and we’ll worry about the legalities,” she added with an implacable stare that spoke to years of arguing with lifetime politicians — and her demeanor suggested she had never lost such an argument. “I’ve spent the last three decades of my life constructing this will, and there is no doubt in my mind that it will hold up in the Timent Electorum’s Tribunal.”
Jericho was not so confident, but he had to admit that Director Hadden had correctly predicted nearly everything else which had taken place since the attack on H.E. One, so he had little reason to doubt the man just yet.
“Also,” Schmidt continued, shifting her gaze to Masozi, “Director Hadden was sufficiently impressed with you during your brief interactions that he requested a last-minute modification.” The two women engaged in a silent test of wills for several seconds before Schmidt finally said, “In effect, he has given you executive authority over the final utilization of these assets, be they tangible, intangible, or sentient.”
To say that Jericho was surprised would be to put it mildly. He ran through the consequences of the revelation and wondered why Hadden would put such a provision in place.
“However,” Schmidt said, turning once again toward Jericho, “given Jericho’s expertise in the situations you are likely to encounter, Director Hadden has placed direct authority in his hands. This essentially means that, when a conflict arises and the two of you are unable to agree, Masozi may veto any action she deems inappropriate. But all official directives must be authored by Jericho, barring his incapacity to carry out that duty, in which case Masozi may temporarily exercise both authorities. The reverse also holds true.”
“Is that it?” Jericho asked dryly.
“Hardly,” Schmidt scoffed. “But it is all I am permitted to reveal at this time. This ship is the most advanced vessel in the Civil Security Fleet, and likely in the entire Chimera Sector. Its design is based almost entirely on Imperial specifications, or repurposed Imperial Navy hardware, but few of the other vessels in the CSF have the Zhuge Liang’s overall tactical value — Hadden’s words, not mine,” she said pointedly. “Hadden Enterprises has been dissolved in order to protect its remaining sentient assets,” she explained, “but the now-disparate components of H.E. will provide support in whatever fashion they are able. This ship’s navigation computer contains the only complete record of the safe zones to which H.E.’s sentient assets fled during the attack on H.E. One, but for security purposes these locations must remain incommunicado and completely off-grid. A complete breakdown of expected resources can be found in the Zhuge Liang’s computers, but since we have not made contact with any of these locations, nor they with each other, it will be impossible to determine with any degree of certainty which of those assets reached safety and has remained undiscovered without physically visiting their immediate vicinities.”
“How many people?” Masozi asked unexpectedly. Jericho and Schmidt looked at her together and she re-phrased, “How many Hadden employees are we talking about?”
Schmidt bit her lip before sighing. “Seeing as you are the closest things to living ‘named heirs’ in the Director’s final directive,” she said in resignation, “I will say that the human roster of Hadden Enterprises, at the time of its dissolution, was 63,424.”
Jericho saw Masozi’s eyebrows climb and he couldn’t help but add, “And that only scratches the surface.”
“Indeed,” Schmidt agreed absently.
Seeing Masozi’s irritation, Jericho decided to explain. It seemed the two of them would be working closely together in the future, and he needed to bring her up to speed as quickly as possible. “At last count, Hadden Enterprises employed nearly three hundred thousand nonhuman sentients — and that’s only the ones I was informed about,” he said with a pointed look to Schmidt.
The older woman nodded, “To my knowledge that number is accurate, but more than three million nonhumans depend on those H.E. employees to provide for them.”
Jericho nodded, having become familiar with similar statistics during his work as H.E.’s head of xenopsychology. He had never been formally trained in psychology of any kind, but understanding human behavior had always seemed easy enough for him and apparently he had tested highly enough in that regard that Director Hadden had given him a small department with a few employees. After just a couple of years, Jericho’s team had produced several papers and even a pair of textbooks regarding nonhuman psychology.
Human and nonhuman collaborations within Hadden Enterprises’ various departments began to improve, and within a decade Jericho had become the System’s — and maybe even the Sector’s — most influential xenopsychologist. But the truth was his team members had all eclipsed his ability, and his name had long since served in a purely tributary capacity. The new leaders of the xenopsychology department had been formally trained and spent the majority of their lives working to improve on his original ideas, and they were each far more intelligent than Jericho had ev
er been, but Hadden had insisted on giving Jericho’s name top billing.
“How many of Hadden’s employees got out?” Masozi asked, and Jericho heard iron threaded in her voice which made him nod with equal parts approval and personal interest in the answer itself.
“Again,” Schmidt said darkly, “we don’t know…but we’ve already confirmed over six thousand arrests and our projections suggest it could end up being nearly twice that when everything comes out.”
“What about due process?” Masozi demanded angrily, but Jericho knew her anger was directed at no one in the room — at least, not yet. “How can they do this?!”
“They always do this,” Jericho said grimly. “If history has taught us anything, it’s that the first act of an unchecked power — after that power realizes it is unchecked — is to destroy whatever might eventually restrict its continued grab for supremacy. In this case, Hadden’s employees are just collateral damage to the real casualty: the freedom of the Chimera Sector’s people.”
Schmidt nodded as her jaw began to flex rhythmically. “The President has formally suspended habeas corpus in any case where he deems it necessary, and that is just the beginning,” she explained. “The attack on H.E. One and the ensuing tragedy at Philippa were engineered to turn public opinion in Blanco’s favor. If Hadden Enterprises had remained standing, the truth would have been revealed. As it is, Philippa has been placed under martial law and all communications have been cut off; it’s only a matter of time before Blanco’s peacekeeping forces,” she spat the former word derisively, “round up any dissenters and saturate the local airwaves with propaganda convincing the people that Hadden Enterprises was responsible for the massacre at Abaca.”
“Was it?” Masozi challenged, and Jericho felt his blood begin to boil.
“Excuse me?” Schmidt asked coolly.
“Was the nerve toxin part of Hadden’s plan?” Masozi repeated forcefully, and as Jericho thought it through, he realized she was justified in her anger…but there were limits to which accusations he would entertain, even in a hypothetical capacity. “It seems to me that whichever side puts the best spin on that brutal, cold-blooded act would benefit the most,” she continued stiffly.
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