The Simmering Seas

by Frank Kennedy

  Ryllen was hearing this for the first time. Ham’s tone darkened.

  “I’ve seen vids,” Ryllen said. “Invincible giants in red armor.”

  “Hmm. We were an effective marketing tool to quell dissent. But where is the Chancellory now? The Unification Guard? Gone, of course. And how did we lose? Stealth. The first time was many years ago on Hiebimini – they call it Aeterna now. Insurrectionists we never saw coming boarded an Ark Carrier. Suicide bombers blew it apart and killed twenty thousand people. They set a template for how to fight us. Stealth.

  “Yet the Guard never changed its core strategy. Arrogance ruled the day. Then those terrorists – Salvation, they called themselves – came at us before we knew how to respond. They attacked our interests across the Collectorate and took out three dozen Ark Carriers with singularity weapons. An army of less than a thousand with a handful of ships. Stealth.

  “Underestimation is the folly of the arrogant. And every mission is combat.” He faced Mei. “High Cannon Collective is not just a manufacturing facility. And we are not soldiers of the Guard.” He turned to Ryllen. “Good feelings will not guarantee our success. We go in as quietly as possible. We penetrate their defenses on gentle feet and highest alert. We might avoid combat, but we must assume it’s inevitable. Questions?”

  The Green Sun fighters offered nothing. Mei shaded her eyes.

  “Outstanding,” Ham continued. “Now, if you’ll take your seats, allow me to explain the new dynamics of our mission. We will conduct drills afterward. We’ll surface the Queen Mab at Quessi Shoals in thirty minutes and deploy the raft. You’ll work as a team until we get it right.”

  Over the next twenty minutes, Ham became someone Ryllen hadn’t experienced in years: A classroom teacher, and not a very interesting one. He made no attempt to be droll. Rather, his matter-of-fact approach lacked the smug arrogance he exuded walking the streets of Zozo or the tenderness he presented around Mi Cha.

  Ryllen saw a new side to the man.

  Rigid. By the book. Even a tad apprehensive.

  As Ryllen followed along to the new mission design, he wondered what Ham was thinking. They never talked about it directly, but was the ex-Chancellor worried he might not return to Mi Cha? He’d run countless intel missions during his life, but how long had it been since he faced such uncertainty?

  And what if Kara Syung didn’t succeed in blinding HCC’s security network? Would Ham and Lan push forward anyway? If Ham really thought Mangum Island might open a path to getting Mi Cha off Hokkaido, would he dare turn tail when so close?

  Ryllen hoped to see the old Hamilton Cortez of Special Services emerge before the night was done.

  27

  T HE NANTOU CORPORATE SCRAM LANDED on a tight pad surrounded by a grove of mature spindle palms at precisely 3.66 of noon, four minutes ahead of the appointment. Kara wanted to make the best impression. Arriving close to – but never at or after – a scheduled time was considered strong etiquette demonstrating precision and efficiency.

  To her surprise, no one from High Cannon Collective greeted them. Instead, they followed a small stone path that cut through a thick tropical landscape of bromeliads and blooming shrubbery beneath the canopy of closely packed palms. In fact, she saw little evidence they were walking toward one of the world’s most influential manufacturing facilities. The parklike aesthetic featured swings, benches, a fountain, and a children’s play area. The flora occupied almost every square foot up to the façade of a nondescript, two-level white office building. The path took them to a single glass door resembling a rear service entrance. No signs, no outward evidence of security.

  “They are expecting us, I hope,” Geo Laan said.

  “I was thinking we made a wrong turn,” Alli Parnish added.

  As if on cue, the door opened. A small, thin woman appeared in a floral sari popular on many of the southernmost islands. She waved them forward without saying a word. She did not bow, offer a gracious smile, or seem interested in the visitors’ presence at all.

  That changed when Kara and her team entered. They were met by a threesome who matched Nantou’s team. Their leader was Chin Sun Tyce – tall, imperious (Kara thought her close to Ham Cortez’s height) – flanked by two men who Kara assumed to be engineers. She acknowledged the beautiful oddity of the moment, with two women in lead positions over the men in their presence. Kara doubted few men in corporate history ever experienced this dynamic.

  Chin Sun wore a beige sari, no floral trappings. Serious enough to set her off as an executive but not practical for routine lab work. She stepped forward of her engineers, and Kara followed suit. They bowed and shook hands.

  “Honored Miss Syung, welcome. 3.68 of noon. Perfect.” She turned. “Our lead product engineers, Han-So Bee and Dev Parke.”

  Kara was surprised to see the son of HCC’s President, Sho Parke. The resemblance was unmistakable. She didn’t recall Dev Parke’s name being listed among the engineering team.

  “Honorable Miss Tyce, thank you for allowing this time,” she said. “May I introduce my lead engineers, Alli Parnish and Geo Laan.”

  “Very good to meet you all,” Chin Sun said. “We’ll eschew honorifics from this point forward. Yes? On to business.”

  The old woman pivoted with military precision, and the four engineers followed Chin Sun and Kara in silence.

  “We will go directly to our presentation room, Kara. I trust your team is prepared to integrate schematics with an LS Alight system?”

  “Absolutely. I think you’ll be impressed.”

  “It’s not me you must impress, Kara. I should warn you: Han-So and Dev are quite skeptical of a miniaturization proposal. We have looked into these notions before, and they never amounted to a project worthy of our time.”

  “HCC are the experts on all things shimmer, so we’ll certainly defer to your team.”

  They proceeded down a long, wide hall. Stark. White. Sterile.

  “If I may ask, Chin Sun, the design of this building is unique. It seems like an afterthought tucked among the natural environment. Everything I see here is simple, stripped down to its barest essence. Quite a contrast from Pinchon. We tend to be more …”

  “Dramatic?” Chin Sun said. “Ostentatious? Please do not take this the wrong way, but the seamasters have always been excessive in demonstrating their perceived importance.”

  The woman was blunter than Kara expected, her tone more strident than came across in their initial face call.

  “I understand,” Kara said. “Pinchon is loud and busy. Always. It’s not for everyone. Good thing we have fifty-seven islands to accommodate different tastes and lifestyles.”

  “Oh, we make our share of noise. You won’t experience it while you’re here because most employees are leaving about now. There’s always a great rush to the village the evening before Daselin. I don’t believe Han-So and Dev were excited to remain behind, but I told them to consider your presentation with open minds.”

  “Thank you. I do appreciate your accommodating my request. It was sudden, I know. I’d love to learn more later about these Daselin celebrations. They’re unlike anything I’ve heard of before.”

  “Of course. We’ll have opportunity to talk.”

  They arrived at a nondescript, unlabeled door. Chin Sun waved her hand over the printlock. Inside, dim recessed lighting cast a glow over six pews facing each other in a stadium format. At the center well, a light table supported a projection system called LS Alight. It was standard tech for convention halls and classrooms in the best schools, but Kara never saw it arranged quite this way.

  Chin Sun pointed Kara and her team to the east-facing pews.

  “You’ll find a choice of cold water or mango juice at each station,” she said with a chuckle. “My brother, whom you had the brief displeasure to meet, used to insist no beverages be provided to clients. He wanted to see how they fared on a dry throat. We would fill our pews,” she said, pointing to the west-facing rows, “while the client teams would
be small, like yourselves. I was a junior engineer at the time, but I asked him about this practice. I said, ‘They are prepared to pay us enormous sums of money for our product. Shouldn’t we seek to please them at every turn?”

  “How did he respond?”

  “He said, ‘Wait ten years. You’ll understand.’”

  “Did you?”

  “Indeed. By then, we held a global monopoly on shimmer, we were forcing the seamasters into a new technological era, and everyone was calling us. They bowed to HCC. It was if the Chancellory no longer existed. Then they gave us their Dims. But our leverage is not what it was. So, I make a small concession.”

  “We’re grateful, Chin Sun. If all’s ready, Geo can install the presentation into the Alight.”

  “By all means.” As Geo took command of the master unit, Chin Sun added, “You’ll find your Connex in a slot beneath the pew.”

  Kara made herself comfortable next to Alli. The pew was subdivided by armrests which contained slots for hand-comms, Tachtron readers, and beverages. A pullout beneath each seat revealed a ten-by-ten sheet of Connex glass which integrated directly with the Alight presentation to create an interactive effect.

  As Geo worked, Kara took a sip of the mango juice, which was a bit sweet for her taste but wonderfully chilled. She reached into a side pocket and felt for the “raindrops”; Ham never told her the tech’s actual name. Small, smooth, malleable.

  She needed to plant the first one in here.

  During the rendezvous at Baangarden, Ham reviewed an overhead schematic of HCC and made clear these devices needed to form a triangular alignment.

  “You’ll conduct your business in one room,” he told her. “If left to them, you’ll see nothing else. Insist on a tour. Maintain your bearings and ensure each device is at least forty meters from the other two.”

  “If less?”

  “Their eyes will be cracked open. Depending upon where they look, we’ll be compromised. I make it a habit never to be compromised.”

  Kara knew where to place the first raindrop. The keys were timing and sleight of hand. First, however, she needed to get through this presentation that faced long odds toward anything other than full-on rejection. To that end, she took a much longer sip of mango juice and watched a giant hologram emerge above the Alight table. Each Connex glass lit up with the identical schematics.

  Geo took his seat. “You’re up, Kara. Give them a great hook, and Alli and I will break it down.”

  Kara never thought of herself as a salesperson. Life in the Marketing Division was stifling, with days blending together in mindless repetition. She fabricated soft language which sought to manipulate without stating anything of substance. And never – NEVER – did she have to attach her face to the endless barrage of company releases.

  Now, she stood up and re-introduced herself and her team, and began a pitch that was really just a prelude to espionage and, perhaps, a series of crimes she’d rather not know about.

  “For years, we have seen declining productivity in our WaveRammer offloading systems,” she began. “Nantou and the other seamasters who control the Port of Pinchon have resisted wholesale replacements because of the potential disruption to our shipping schedules. More importantly, we simply haven’t found a better system. We believe by dipping into the past, we can solve a problem for the future.”

  The longer she spoke, the sweatier her palms. She stained the corners of the Connex glass and fully expected her day to go downhill from there.

  28

  F OR A WHILE, KARA HAD EVERY REASON to believe this might work out in her favor. She survived the initial pitch without any gaffes, and the demo on miniaturized shimmer tech carried an air of authority even a cynical HCC engineer couldn’t deny. Geo and Alli broke down the physics with aplomb, combining the excitement of scientists venturing down a new path with well-timed bits of humor. The Connex glass allowed all parties to interact with the demo, either pointing out flaws in the proposal or suggesting alternatives.

  Almost an hour in, HCC’s engineering reps – Dev Parke and Han-So Bee, fell into muted conversation. It was Dev, the son of the company’s president, who spoke for both.

  “On the surface,” he said, “you have a surprisingly intriguing proposal. It might even be viable, though we would need weeks integrating with our Dynamic Source Code to develop a prototype. The problem you have is not in the engineering. It comes down to a matter of applicability. Quite simply, the design is too narrow. Unless we can generate a product with uses across multiple industries, HCC is not interested in a new generation of shimmer.”

  Alli Parnish, standing at the light table, sagged his shoulders.

  “I find myself frustrated to understand,” he said. “Shimmer tech is your flagship product line. With just two days of work, we have proven the miniaturization techniques are viable. Surely, this provides a new revenue stream.”

  “A small one, at best. The cost in R&D and the limited client base will not justify redirecting our resources.”

  Chin Sun intervened. “Allow me to elaborate. Shimmer is a technology we are very proud of. We don’t exist without it. But from the beginning, my brother intended to scale up the technology rather than down. He envisioned shimmer tunnels as a new baseline for powering system ships. He saw our products leading to the creation of Hokkaido’s own intergalactic commerce fleet. Unfortunately, shimmer never matched the power efficiency of Carbedyne. So that vision was abandoned. Instead, we focused on large-scale oceanic concerns. Drone loaders are not our province.”

  Kara had a feeling Chin Sun was shutting down any further discussion without a single raindrop having been planted.

  “If I might,” Kara said, “we understand your position, and we’re here today simply to discuss the viability of the science. I wonder: Could our engineers take time to discuss the applicability issue? I have great faith in Alli and Geo. I think if they brainstormed with Dev and Han-So for a while, they might see other opportunities, even if only in theory.”

  Chin Sun pivoted to her team.

  “Thoughts?”

  Dev consulted his hand-comm. “I’d like to be home for the evening dine. I could give them thirty minutes.” Han-So agreed.

  “Then it’s settled. The four of you run through the possibilities. Kara, I believe you asked about a tour?”

  Kara didn’t take the reprieve lightly. She thanked Chin Sun then huddled with her team at the light table and lowered her voice.

  “You were both sensational. Now it’s time to use your imagination. Fill their heads with ideas. It can be anything, really. If it has nothing to do with the seamasters, all the better.”

  “And you’ll work Chin Sun?” Geo asked.

  “Best I can. Look, we knew this would be a tough crowd. We’re sitting better right now than we could have expected.”

  As she talked to her team, Kara slipped her thumb and forefinger under the edge of the light table and pressed until the first raindrop let go. She mentally recalled the aerial view of HCC to guess her rough position and where she needed to go to complete a triangular alignment of the devices.

  “Kara, shall we?” Chin Sun said.

  She left her team to work its magic – or at least give Kara time to finish the more important mission they knew nothing about.

  “I must confess,” Chin Sun said in the corridor when they were alone, “I thought you were an upstart, despite your impressive lineage. I gave you this meeting as a courtesy, but in truth, I wanted to see how woefully you would conduct yourself. I suppose I’m not without some of my brother’s tendencies.”

  “Are you working toward a compliment?”

  “I am. There are few women in our line of work, and less who are competent. So yes, you have my admiration.” She wrapped an arm around Kara, as a grandmother might. “I am curious. Given the family whose name you’ll be taking in a few days, what are your career options in the near term?”

  “I wish I knew. The picture is muddied at the moment.” />
  “Ah. Hence the reason for this sudden meeting. You are in search of a legacy, Kara.”

  She had no idea where this was heading, but they walked with purpose, and distance from the first raindrop was essential.

  “My Gran Enna Syung told me to pursue my own legacy. It was one of the last conversations I ever had with her.”

  “Heeding the advice of a grandmother is always prudent.”

  They turned left to another nondescript corridor.

  “I’d like to show you our sales pavilion.”

  Chin Sun opened a double-wide sliding door. They entered what might have passed for a museum on the history of shimmer tunnels. The hardware was on display in giant glass cases, while video boards discussed the internal workings of the devices.

  “This is remarkable,” Kara said. “I’ve never seen shimmer tunnels on display by themselves.”

  “Few have. We’re very protective of our product, and most on Hokkaido were installed before you were born.”

  “Then I assume most of your revenue these days must come from off-world clients.”

  “It’s sustainable for the time being. But every colony is looking to make its own mark since the Collectorate died. In time, our colonial clients will innovate from within.”

  “And HCC?”

  Chin Sun lovingly rubbed a hand over a glass case.

  “We changed the world once before, Kara. We will again.”

  Kara backed away and turned her attention to a different display, her hands shielded from Chin Sun.

  “Ah. So that’s why you don’t want to go down another avenue with shimmer. It’s not innovative enough.”

  “Innovation takes many forms. We’ve designed two dozen iterations of these tunnels, each an improvement over the previous. But at some point, a new iteration does little more than improve the aesthetic. We can market to less informed clients, especially off-world, but the business model will stagnate over time.”