The Simmering Seas

by Frank Kennedy

  Her question appeared to amuse him.

  “Defeat is the last word in a Chancellor’s vocabulary. Supremacy is the first. My caste is, by and large, an amalgam of horrible human beings. We lorded over the species for three thousand years and committed unspeakable crimes, almost none of which are known to the indigos. We raped every colony under the guise of benefactors and guardians. We are a detestable lot incapable of accepting equal status to the fringes of homo sapiens.”

  “Wow. I don’t think I’ve heard that harsh an assessment from even the toughest Hokki critic. Sounds to me like you include yourself among the detestable lot.”

  “I do. I am. No one has ever accused me of having honor, nor will they. Granted, I do care about the Hokki people. I suppose I’m worthy of some consideration in that regard. Most other Randalls think the same way.” He leaned forward, his face white. “But I know better than most what highly motivated Chancellors will do. Make a band out of them, and you create a formidable enemy.”

  “OK, so they’re fanatics. But they can’t bridge nine hundred light-years and retake control of forty planets.”

  He nodded. “On this, we agree. Even the diehards know the Collectorate is finished. But I believe they’ll approach their revival with subtlety. They won’t return with Ark Carriers. Perhaps won’t even show their faces. They’ll manipulate from a great distance and chip away at the most fragile colonies.”

  “To what end?”

  “Therein lies the misshapen puzzle.”

  “Essentially, Ham, your motivation is paranoia about something the colonies will never allow to happen.”

  “Don’t be so certain, Kara. Many economies were destroyed when the Carriers left. Sympathizers would love a return to the stability those city-ships offered. My contacts on Earth heard rumors of Chancellor factions fleeing the system after the war. Their resources would be limited, of course. But again, if they form a band, they might find a way to wreak havoc.”

  “No. The Chancellors might have been beloved on some worlds, but eyes were opened after they fell. Not again.”

  “How quickly the young Hokki forgets.” The smug carpet of his voice made Kara want to slap him. “The Salvation terrorists built an army of seven ships with less than a thousand children and attacked from an uninhabited system. They destroyed three Carriers above Hokkaido, forced a full retreat to Earth, and wiped out battalions of peacekeepers on Aeterna. And the super weapons that ended the Earth war? Rumors say they came from Aeterna. Please, Kara, don’t speak to me about what a small number of highly motivated people can do if they know the right magic.”

  “Fine. Your purpose is to stop the Chancellors from … whatever they might be planning. Yes?”

  “At the very least, expose them.”

  “Do you believe they’re connected to the events on Mangum?”

  “Possible. I need to find the organizing principle. A pattern that matches Chancellor protocols and procedures.”

  Kara buried her face in her right hand. A sudden wave of déjà vu pissed her off.

  “Sure. Why not? Now that I think of it, I’m doing the same thing you are. Chasing puzzle pieces. Looking for a conspiracy because I assume there has to be one. My own people. My family. High Cannon Collective. The dark quadrant. And maybe even the cudfrucking Chancellory.”

  “The difference, Kara, is you were born to trust others. I was born to suspect everything and everyone. You don’t wish to believe the worst. For me, the worst is the presumed outcome.”

  This was not what she expected to hear. Kara never considered the Chancellors might yet have a role to play in Hokkaido’s future. Ham made a compelling case, but he also had reason to be afraid. If the Chancellory did return in any meaningful way, rogues like Ham were bound to be targeted as enemies. Was it possible for a man of his background to succumb to irrational fear?

  “For now,” she said, “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. But our primary objective is to figure out how the seamasters and High Cannon are connected to the acenomite poisoning. We have to deal with the threat we know. Agreed?”

  “Yes. For now.”

  Ryllen interjected. “We’re about a minute out. Hey, Ham, you ought to tell her the other reason. She’ll understand if you …”

  “Enough.” He whirled about, anger evident in squinted eyes. “My personal life is no one’s concern. Understood?” He responded to Kara’s raised brow. “RJ enjoys testing my limits. Anything else you learn about my life is irrelevant to the mission.”

  “I hope so. Allies can’t afford to hide behind secrets.”

  Ham’s tone changed on a dime, a grin bursting through.

  “If you knew half my secrets, you wouldn’t hesitate to kill me.”

  As if on melodramatic cue, the sun disappeared, and darkness surrounded the hopper. Kara looked outside and adjusted her eyes to realize they entered Pinchon’s only tunnel. The hopper zipped past neon guidance flashers as it dived beneath the ocean.

  “Why are we going to Baangarden?”

  “It was where our ally asked to meet,” Ham said. “He’ll have a proposal worth considering.”

  “Who is this ally? Yesterday, RJ said he was very influential and the head of Green Sun but refused to reveal a name. He said something about an oath.”

  “Yes. RJ swore his life to Green Sun years ago. Not the smartest decision, but a commitment no less. A central part of the Green Sun creed: Never speak the name of their leader to outsiders. I’m the exception. I knew this man long before he took on his mad crusade to purify The Lagos. For him to reveal his identity – especially to a daughter of Syung-Low – puts his life in immediate jeopardy. But yes, he holds enormous sway. His Hokki contacts far exceed my own.”

  For a Chancellor to hold any Hokki in such high esteem impressed Kara. Ham appeared to envy the man. Her mind raced through the possibilities while the hopper entered Pinchon’s century-old prototype of an undersea city.

  Built on the sea floor fifty meters beneath the surface, Baangarden was a two-level ringed facility with a central transport concourse. Only a few Hokkis lived here anymore, but most of the facility was put to work as a series of restaurants and hotels, special-event facilities, museums, and tributes to the seamasters. It also acted as a hub for school field trips and deep-water training expeditions. When the hopper slowed to a crawl outside DeepQuay 3, Kara began to piece together what her ally might have in mind.

  “This is our exit,” Ham said. “RJ will secure the hopper in a parking hold and join us in a few minutes. Shall we?”

  Kara hadn’t visited Baangarden in years but stepping outside reminded her of its most distinctive feature: A hard chill in the air.

  The security gate for DeepQuay 3 opened. A young woman in a tight bodysuit greeted them. She nodded to Ham but offered a dismissive glance toward Kara.

  “You’re three minutes late,” she said. “We were concerned.”

  “What can I say? Mid-day traffic. Mei Durin, this is Kara Syung. Kara, this is, by her own admission, the angriest woman you will ever meet.”

  Kara winced. “Don’t be rude, Ham.”

  “He’s right,” Mei said. “And for the record, I don’t play nice with women, especially Haansu coits.”

  “Good to know. A time-saver.”

  Kara saw in Mei’s eyes the same dark emptiness Ryllen couldn’t mask. She didn’t need to be told this girl was also Green Sun. She was beautiful, her athletic curves accentuated by the bodysuit. She was likely trained to kill with her hands. Was Mei like Ryllen? Raised in higher society but fallen from grace? It might explain the anger, Kara thought, but damn well didn’t excuse it. She refused to wait for Mei to lead the way inside.

  The transit tube was a tight fit, no more than three abreast, and only fifteen feet long. At the end, a porthole captured a snapshot of the deep blue ocean. The docking tube was swung open.

  Kara last entered one of the facility’s eight submarines as a Year Nine at Vox School. It was a lark, one of many trip
s the school sponsored to demonstrate job possibilities. Kara made a point to sign up for every excursion despite knowing her career destination.

  The sub was a Grunhaus model, older than Baangarden, but was no less seaworthy than the newer, shimmer-propelled boats. Old Hokki salts adored the Grunhaus class for their durability and simplicity. Indeed, they doubled as deep-sea explorer craft and as utility vehicles for suboceanic construction and repairs.

  Kara descended the ladder through the forward hatch and into the cockpit. She entered a claustrophobic and humid tube cast in a green glow. Four empty chairs manned control boards, all of which reflected pre-holo tech. It looked like a museum, where children might experience the thrill of reliving history without leaving port.

  “Watch your head, Honored Miss Syung.”

  So, the cockpit wasn’t unmanned. The voice came from behind. Elegant, pillow soft, almost feminine, yet also deceptive. These were the words of a man who ordered the deaths of hundreds – maybe more. The body count of illegal immigrants – often referred to as immos – was a subject of controversy. Many were found butchered or floating in the sea near the coast, but far more vanished with no trace.

  Kara decided not to make a sudden move. Was he lying in wait? Was he armed? How far had she fallen to meet such a man?

  She didn’t look back.

  “You’re the leader of Green Sun?”

  “Founding member,” he said, a tone glistening in pride.

  “But you’re here to help me?”

  “Ah, more than you, Miss Syung. I serve The Lagos. I serve the Hokki people. And I serve the same Executive Board as you.”

  No. Can’t be.

  The last clue did the trick. Kara swung about. She never said ten words to the man before today, but she knew him on sight. Everyone at Nantou Global knew the Executive Chairman of Discipline. He and his “associates” kept a quarter million employees rigidly in line with corporate policy.

  “Lan Chua. You? For all the rings … you run Green Sun?”

  He advanced, hands in his pockets, his trademark neck scarf screaming the colors of a Pinchon sunset.

  “I do, and now you know. It’s a wonderful thing we’re to be allies. Otherwise, you’d never leave Baangarden in one piece.”

  22

  L AN CHUA DIDN’T LOOK THE PART. He seemed to Kara more like a middle-aged playboy with a devilish grin and a twinkle in his eyes. She long heard stories about his disciplined manner and ability to extract unfaltering loyalty from his underlings through a combination of generosity and back-slapping. Yet he was cold and unwavering in the discipline he meted when employees violated even the smallest Nantou policies. Upstarts who considered themselves a breath of fresh air in the corporate world pushed back at their peril; Lan ended many careers with painful expulsion.

  “No,” Kara said in response to Lan’s threat on her life. “I don’t believe any of this. You wouldn’t touch me. More to the point, there’s no universe where you could run a terrorist group and keep it hidden from the Executive Board. They’d turn you into Kohlna meat before allowing you to shame Nantou.”

  He seemed amused. “A few points, Honored Miss Syung. First, I may not be old enough to take the Senior Prerogative, but do I have permission to drop the honorific?”

  “I’m not doing honor to my family by being here, so yes.”

  “Good. Point one: Green Sun are not terrorists. We preserve Lagos culture and pride. The continentals crawl onto our shores like poisonous crabs. We sweep them back into the ocean. Two, I have never been a member of the Executive Board. My contract stipulates my independence over all personnel discipline. I do not talk to the EB, nor do they talk to me. I have an office on the twenty-second floor. They preside atop the Global Center. We do not intersect. I spend more time aboard the Quantum Majesty than I do at the office.”

  “All of which would end,” Kara said, “if I breathed a word of this to my Honorable Father. Yes?”

  “Which you’ll never be able to do without explaining how you knew.”

  He motioned forward, into the cockpit.

  “Please, Kara. I’m not your enemy, whatever you may think. I believe we are equally at risk but in pursuit of a noble resolution. Please, Kara. Sit. Listen to my proposal.”

  Instinct said to run now, but Ham descended the ladder, followed by Mei Durin. Kara never turned her back on Lan until she took a seat.

  “Pleasant introduction, I trust?” Ham said.

  Lan tugged his ear. “I doubt Kara will ever consider me a friend.”

  “Good. Friends make tragic mistakes when their attachment overrides their commitment to the mission. Agreed, Kara?”

  She smirked. “Oh, that won’t be a problem here. I’m sure I’m the only one in this sub who hasn’t murdered people. And the worst one of you? He’s out parking the hopper. I don’t make friends with killers. I’m here because …”

  “You need killers,” Mei said, her arms crossed. “Keep those Haansu fingers clean while the rest of us solve problems. Typical.”

  “I wouldn’t know, but you’re probably right.”

  Ham stepped between them. “Not productive, young ladies.” He asked Mei to take a seat then did the same. “Kara, have you asked Lan why he’s helping us?”

  “I was coming to it.”

  “Excellent.” He pivoted. “Lan, your fellow Nantou employee wants to know your motivation, or else she might walk away.”

  “Oh, is that all? Fair enough.” He lost his suave, devil-may-care grin. Lan shaded his eyes.

  “It’s a humbling admission, Kara, but I’m here because we’re losing. Green Sun, that is. We’re losing agents and territory. We have been for the past two years. Our crusade to repel invaders from the continent will die soon unless we turn the tide.”

  Kara felt dirty in Lan’s presence.

  “Ah,” she said. “So, you’re saying illegals are coming in faster than you can kill them? And I should sympathize, why?”

  “The numbers are not the problem. Sometime back, a network of counteragents called Ocean Beast arose with the backing of forces who are working against the best interests of The Lagos. These people are scattered throughout the islands but aligned with the seamasters’ continental competitors. Some are funded by the elite. Perhaps even within the houses of Haansu. Hokkis, born and raised on the islands, working against the islands. They have penetrated Green Sun, double-crossed many agents. But their goals are elusive, if they have goals.

  “I believe there’s a larger scheme at play. The information you uncovered along with evidence captured by agents like Mei suggest a link to Mangum Island. Your decision to meet with High Cannon provides an opening.”

  Great, Kara thought. Another conspiracy theory.

  “Lan, I’ve already heard a far-fetched notion about Chancellors. Are you going to suggest they’re behind this, too?”

  “No, but I wouldn’t dismiss Hamilton’s concerns. He knows his caste better than anyone on Hokkaido. My concern is to preserve the sanctity of The Lagos. If someone is working against my cause, I want them gone. Preferably, with a burial at sea.”

  Mei interjected. “I suggest throwing them to a school of syllaphi.”

  “What a beautiful image, Mei,” Kara said. “I can see why you two travel together. Tell me, Lan. Why the sub?”

  “Her name is Queen Mab. There’s a myth in which Queen Mab allows her believers to make their most dangerous dreams become reality. This sub has been active for ninety-five years, mostly as an AAN Class service boat. She is equipped with six amphibious utility pods. Single pilot design. Better yet, she runs on LPS. No shimmer.”

  Of course, Kara thought, anticipating the rest of his proposal. The Landmark Propulsion System powered subs for the first two centuries of undersea travel. It was a quiet, efficient energy system, but subs only reached sixty percent of the top speed for those running on shimmer tunnels. Boats like Queen Mab hadn’t been built in sixty years.

  “I see,” she told Lan. “The LPS wi
ll run silent against modern inter-island security sweepers. Effectively, it’s a stealth vehicle.”

  “It is.” He turned to Ham. “I told you we were fortunate to add an engineer to our little team.”

  “And I assume,” Kara continued, “you propose using the utility pods as landing craft.”

  “I do. We can beach them in remote locations at night, send our agents to the target zone, and pursue necessary action.”

  “I don’t care for the sound of that,” she said, as Ryllen descended the ladder. “If it’s so straightforward, you wouldn’t need me.”

  “What did I miss?” Ryllen said. “Gotten to the good bits yet?”

  Kara nodded. “I think we’re about to. Tell me, Lan.”

  “The Queen Mab will represent phase two of our mission. Yours is phase one. Have you secured a visit to HCC?”

  “I have.”

  “Perfect. You’ll lay the groundwork.”

  “How?”

  Ham took over. “On the positive, you won’t be carrying a bleeder this time. Our plan would not place us close enough to monitor your conversations. In all likelihood, they would not bear fruit anyway.”

  “Good,” Kara said, “but I’ll bet you have another Chancellor toy?”

  “What can I say? They are my stock-in-trade. These, however, you will need to plant.”

  “Plant? Excuse me?”

  He turned to Lan. “I said she wouldn’t like this part. Kara, this toy comes in a set. Each is the size of a drop of rain, but when all are activated, they form a web that blinds internal security networks. We’ll need you to place them at designated locations during your visit. Long after you leave, we’ll do the rest.”

  “Ah. So, I take care of the corporate espionage, and you ….?”

  Ham and Lan shared a knowing glance, but during their hesitation, Ryllen took over.

  “We find out what those cudfruckers are up to. Anybody gets in our way, we kill them. If I find Shin Wain, I turn him into Kohlna meat.” He responded to intense glares from Ham and his Green Sun compatriots. “What? Seriously? She deserves to know the truth. She’s putting it on the line, just like us.”