by James Cox
alMarklin started to reply harshly but bit back when he recognized Micah.
“What are you doing? Your... Associates have taken extremely dangerous actions!”
“Patience, brother,” soothed Micah, “We have no desire for bloodshed. Believe that if you believe nothing else. For personal reasons as well as political. How pleasant would our lives be here?”
alMarlkin nodded and faked an examination of Micah's map.
“Thank you, brother! It is most urgent that we meet with our mutual friend.”
“He will visit his sister this evening,” said alMarklin after a moment's thought, “I do not know any other time he'll be free of prying eyes. If even then. The Brethren are anxious and more unpleasant than usual.”
Micah nodded. “If we don't see him one of us will be here tomorrow at this time. If neither then take whatever measures you feel appropriate. For now, finish your tea in peace and give me some time before you leave.”
Dora Delight was not the least bit pleased to see Micah and Ferrel.
“Your games are too dangerous, Brother. Your money is worth less than my life. Less than giving you to the Brethren!”
“Unwise, sister,” advised Micah, “You have no proof that would not stain you as well. We have... Information capable of worse than that. Besides,” Micah patted his side. “We are prepared.”
She considered this.
“What do you want?”
“Brother is planning a visit tonight. We will speak with him. Alone.”
Micah and Ferrel passed the rest of the afternoon out of sight but not far away. Best not to tempt Delight's resolve. While they could bring her down handily with them that gave little comfort if they were caught. When Orris finally arrived they gave him a slow count and entered through the back. Delight led them to a room and handed them the key.
“What games are you playing at?” demanded Orris, “You risk all our lives and the deaths of thousands with your foolishness! What errand do you strive toward?”
“Peace, brother,” said Micah, “and patience!”
“Peace? Patience? Easy words, League man, when your ships sit ready to raze our cities and annihilate our people! Peace from a blast cannon is not a peace I shall have!”
“Brother Orris,” said Micah sharply, cutting off the other man's tirade and packing as much ice into his voice as he could, “We didn't meet you to listen to rants and ravings! If you value your planet and its people then listen with your mind and not your ballocks!”
That shocked Orris to silence.
“Better, brother. What happened with Ramsey? I know for true that neither of you is prone to rashness or stupidity. That leaves one of the others.”
Orris stared coldly a moment then dropped his gaze.
“That is truth,” said Orris, “The meeting did not proceed well at all. I'm surprised you don't know the whole of it.”
“We're defying orders, brother,” said Ferrel, “We were ordered to evacuate. What penance awaits us if we are discovered? We are here to prevent what none of us wishes to happen.”
A brief smile touched Orris' mouth.
“That makes you foolish past reckoning or brave past sanity. Very well.
“Frond. He was the architect of motivation, if not alone. He put before Ramsey a list of demands to choke a solicitor's heart. He would have your prisoners executed in public and with pain. We should then abrogate every word of every treaty or declaration with you and declare your League anathema and apostate; unredeemable and past all salvation.
“Maas spoke with that voice but less so. Somewhat less so. I...” Shame clouded Orris' face. “I did not gainsay them. I could not! I... I lent them support only by silence.” Orris regarded Micah. “League man, I fear greatly for Jilli now. If you can help...”
“Done, brother,” said Ferrel, “She will be safe and away from those who would harm her. Madam Delight has instructions and means.”
A weight visibly lifted from Orris.
“Thank you, brothers. I can die peacefully knowing that.”
“Or live to serve so,” said Micah, “What of the Circle?”
Orris drew a breath. “It... It is abhorrent. Obscene! There is no consensus. Juch and Maas and Frond speak for reviling the League and executing the prisoners and turning our people forcibly toward the Ways of Unity they have forsaken.”
Orris shook his head.
“Litho speaks words of moderation. But for Frond he would have your miscreants off our world and softer words spoken. Brellin speaks with his voice. Hastily did I speak him reckless. Of all ironies Darby is the sharpest. May I be forgiven for that. He is showing mettle past any he has before. He answers with Litho and Brellin.”
Micah pursued this fact down several paths.
“Brother, we may yet prevent catastrophes. You say three speak the voice of opposition?”
“Yes.”
“Do they see beyond a single sky?”
“I do not know, brother,” said Orris after some consideration, “I've heard that First Litho spoke more than once for trade beyond our systems. Yet I know for truth that his voice was firmest toward enforcing the limits of your treaty. First Brellin is quick to favor the new over what is old but never against Writ or Unity. Even in the smallest way. As to Darby...” Orris shrugged.
“Seek them out tomorrow. Speak what words you deem appropriate. Speak of moderation and sanity. No one need die, Unity's citizens least of all!”
Orris thought long on this. Finally he nodded. Micah powered down the garble. Ferrel opened the door and instructed one of the ladies to fetch Delight.
“Time to vanish,” Micah told Delight, “Is Jilli well enough to travel?”
“With the medicine, yes.” She eyed Micah, “That was kindly done. It is too close to curfew to move now but we'll be gone within an hour of it lifting tomorrow.”
Micah nodded. “We'll leave you to discuss details. Warn no one.”
Ferrel handed Delight two more rolls of currency and he and Micah left.
***
Micah and Ferrel ghosted their way through the mostly-deserted streets of Unity. They passed infrequent patrols; rather, the patrols passed them. A few citizens strode purposefully, at times stopped by grim-faced soldiers.
As Micah walked he batted ideas around inside his skull. They had more than enough evidence to disrupt the Circle but only an intact Circle could hold back their military. No, disrupting the Circle would only lead to chaos, chaos would lead to rash actions and rash actions would lead to irreversible error.
Back at the house Kidwell had projections ready. She'd done her work well. With a bare five assumptions ranging from best case to worst she trended likely reactions by the population of Unity, their military units, the government and the Circle. From there she extrapolated as many effects as she could with any degree of reliability.
Few of the projections held any hope for a good resolution. Of the ones that did the best outcomes had the lowest probability.
“I even tried it with the subliminals factored out,” she said despondently, “The best improvement I got was only nine points.”
Micah reviewed the data. He weighted each projection by its likelihood and folded the results into a unified sum. It held as little hope as Kidwell said. But Micah had another plan. With the summation criteria solid and the likelihood-relational links firmly embedded Micah began changing base assumptions. Kidwell and Ferrel scowled at this but they'd had more Information Theory than Micah. Changing what - to them - were cold, hard facts bothered Micah not at all.
Before long Micah had a working pattern. He tweaked the factors he'd set and watched the summation creep higher. Before long he had an optimal worked out. It didn't have the highest end-summation but its non-ideal intervals still placed the overall values higher than their current projections.
“If you can't win the game,” said Micah, “change the rules. Observe.” He highlighted several altered assumptions. “When these conditions are satisfi
ed we have a maximally optimal solution. Even if they range slightly, and I set my tolerances wide, the solution is workable. Well within likelihood for a win-summation.”
Disbelief and a trace of fear crept into Kidwell's eyes.
“Micah, no. We can't do that! It would be wrong. Totally wrong!”
“Check my math, Vera. Charlie. Prove me wrong, if you can.”
Kidwell and Ferrel dug into the numbers. They tried to disprove Micah. They tried hard. Kidwell finally pushed her terminal away and refused to meet Micah's eyes.
“It would be effective,” said Ferrel, finally, “Given ambient tensions along with what we've been doing, it works. Any way you check it it yields sigma positive.”
“But... No. We can't! The strongest policy...”
“Policies change, Vera,” said Ferrel, “Didn't we learn that harder than just about anything else? One would put us on a positive vector. One or two more would almost guarantee it.”
“Micah,” said Kidwell, “Please...”
“Is it worth the lives of Lafe, Missy, Rob and Sara? They're ours but more importantly they're innocent. In each of these vectors all four of them are safe. The worst optimal has them spending a little more time in prison here. Your best projection only gives them fifty percent surviving. Is policy worth that?”
Kidwell wilted at that. She closed her eyes and buried her face in her hands.
“Objections?”
“I don't like it,” said Ferrel, “But I can't see a better way. Vera, you won't have to do it.”
“I'll do it,” said Micah, “I'm the best qualified and the obvious choice. One, two and all three if I make it. I'll make that an order before I leave. Right now let's get some sleep. It's late and we have a busy day tomorrow.”
After a night of restless sleep, at least for Ferrel and Kidwell, they rose early. Micah had a hearty breakfast, the others less so.
“Are we agreed?” asked Micah.
Kidwell nodded, shakily and with no measure of acceptance. Ferrel, himself pale and unsettled, did likewise.
“The assassinations of Firsts Frond, Juch and Maas,” said Ferrel, “preferably in that order, will at best optimal lead to the freeing of the League hostages and eventual ratification of all treaties.” Micah calmly sipped the last of his juice as Ferrel continued. “The worst optimal has a period of unrest before, again, release of prisoners and ratification of treaties.”
“Good,” nodded Micah, “We have all agreed that these assassinations will accomplish our objectives.” He leaned forward and placed his arms on the table. He stared evenly at Ferrel and Kidwell. “Now, fellow students, let us turn our august intellects toward obtaining this solution without perpetrating the actual assassinations.” Not quite Colwraith, but close enough!
Relief suffused and saturated Kidwell. Ferrel laughed his out loud.
“Bastard blood!” said Ferrel, “Of the sneakiest kind!”
Kidwell smiled and wiped at her eyes. “Micah, I'm sorry I doubted you! I should have known! Those twenty-eight tales Dr. Colwraith told did sink in!”
“I had one hundred and seven,” said Micah, “He gave me extra credit.”
“You know it would have been simpler,” said Ferrel.
“Truth,” agreed Micah, “and I would have done it. It is, however, absolutely not an option!”
With his objective clear Micah began working through ideas. He almost felt Colwraith's nod of approval. With all the training and skill drilled into him Micah analyzed each idea against the facts they had, their deviation from necessary assumptions and the best way to make them coincide.
By midmorning Micah had a potentially viable plan. By lunch they had the gross details worked out. By afternoon it was down to the polish. After lunch Micah reconfigured his terminal to dex mode. He was woefully out of practice and even the crudest of their plans would require all of his old skill and then some.
“Not bad,” said Ferrel as Micah flexed his fingers, “If I'd known you were that good I'd have had you helping me!”
“We both know I'm not that good,” replied Micah, “We just don't have a lot of choice.”
Ferrel offered to cut cards for locations but Micah demurred.
“We know you should do all of them,” said Micah, “But I can't split you into triplets.”
“I blipped Ted. He reiterated the evac and added 'or ground hard' to it.” Kidwell spoke seriously. “But he will help. At precisely six-seventeen this evening the T-group will maneuver in orbit. There will be no question of attack and no overtly hostile moves. Nothing that could even be interpreted as such. He wished us luck.”
***
17:30. Micah approached the Dome of the Circle with no more or less visible apprehension than the other men and women around him. A truculent barrier blocked access but Micah inserted the UNA ident Ferrel forged and the portal flashed green. Not the first risk he and the others would take tonight.
17:36. Merging with the crowd around him and letting it guide him Micah made his way to the Dome's observation gallery. Those around Micah, the second-shifters and rookie newsmen of their various agencies, hoped for an eventful evening but didn't expect it. Since neither the League nor the Circle had shown prior interest in generating copy for the late shift no one expected any excitement.
17:41. Micah sat in a back corner with a prime view of nothing of interest in the chamber below. Some of the others clustered near the front, others spread through the middle rows. A sparse few chose to share the darkness with Micah. The lady sitting nearest him snored lightly.
17:50. Micah powered up his terminal and jacked in. After a quick check the screen cleared to a general options page. Micah selected 'external connection' and pointed it to the UNA site.
17:52. After several verifications and an exchange of bona fides Micah logged in to the UNA net. Micah disabled their chat module and activated the one Ferrel gave him.
17:52:30. Micah's screen flashed and a chat opened.
'F: In and hot. Four-by here. No problem getting in. I'm bored.'
'S: Take a nap. That's what they're doing here.'
17:58. Micah's screen flashed again. Ferrel's window reactivated and another appeared.
'K: In and hot. Lots of after-hours here. Negative problems.'
'S: Plus-plus. Connections solid and holding.'
'F: Plus-plus.'
'K: Plus-plus.'
'S: Terminate until t-minus.'
Both connections dropped. Micah terminated his own, logging out of both the UNA and Dome nets. His terminal began digesting the information it collected and providing him with useful data for later: numbers, protocols and configurations. He took a deep breath, sighed it out slowly and worked is fingers into the dex.
18:05. Micah re-entered the Dome net and requested access to the archives. The Dome requested a module push and Micah accepted it. The authentication module downloaded and began its verification. Invisibly to the net, though, Micah's terminal forked a copy into isolation-guarded hot memory. While the visible memory executed, verified and granted Micah access to the archives the forked copy was dissected and thoroughly analyzed by Micah's Intelligence-designed and Ferrel-potent burnware!
While the machine worked Micah keyed in several bland queries. Filler and fodder. The datafractal representing hot memory spiked and stabilized as the other authentication module within it gave up its last bit of data and died. Step 1 complete.
Maintaining his connections Micah requested access to the orbital scan feed. Once again the net pushed a module and once again Micah accepted and forked it. Before long Micah had a small window showing positions and vectors on all the anomalous ships around Unity and even more dead-module data.
18:13. Micah's hot side formed a datafractal distilled from the other two yet totally insidious to their purpose. Micah saw it as eager to tackle the Dome net security.
18:15. Micah opened a port from hot memory to visible. The burnware slowly invaded his connection to the radar feed. There were s
everal alarming spikes but Micah tweaked them into conformity. Something, no doubt, Ferrel could have done whilst yawning. A single drop of cold sweat trickled away from Micah's neck and started down his back.
18:16. Micah released the archive connection and slowly strengthened the other one. He could reconnect to the archive if necessary and he wanted no distractions now! As Micah thickened the connection he altered it slightly. Inside the security shell he opened a delicate connection directly to his burnware. Some security popped up and Micah began synchronizing with it. He felt the time ticking away and he hadn't even come close to finishing.
18:17:41. The holographic dots in orbit around Unity began moving. Several alerts flashed in the net followed by one in the gallery.
By six-eighteen everyone in the room knew something had happened. Conversation began buzzing and the guards, previously relaxed and almost bored, snapped to alertness. By six-twenty people started gathering in the room beneath the gallery. Micah could almost smell the anticipation. Not that he had time for it or any lack of it himself!
Micah fought for his connection. The initial alarm initiated a low-level sever module and the plan hinged on Micah staying connected. The sever chewed on Micah's tunnel and tried to collapse it. Doggedly and with fingers trying to tense up Micah fought it. So far he hadn't set off any major security but the sever would soon if Micah didn't placate it.
Micah roughened the surface of his tunnel and the sever melted into it. Several 'dogs began sniffing Micah's tunnel but with the sever neutralized he had no problem dealing with them.
Some official below was making an official announcement but Micah had no time for it. The Firsts should be arriving soon and Micah had to be ready for them.
Micah opened another port, spiked his warez and released them against sysaccess security. That set off several more 'dogs but, working through his established connection he distracted them long enough to burn through outer security. More sweat poured down Micah's back as he set off his mirror-backlash. Each of the 'dogs latched onto a ghosted image. Bare nanoseconds out of sync, each dog fought an ersatz counterpart. Once they all locked Micah shifted each trace and the 'dogs locked on each other. Free to act now, Micah synced with one 'dog in the ring and stomped it. Faster than sight the others winked out of existence.