“I think I can’t prove he’s not responsible because the Minister’s body became an Alliance state secret approximately two minutes after he ceased breathing.”
“What if you could?”
45 Deucali
Earth Alliance SW Regional Military Headquarters
The QEC room always made Liam feel as though he was suffocating. It wasn’t so much the size—while hardly what he would consider spacious, it included a desk, a full-sized chair, a long wall for holo projections and plenty of space to maneuver around. But the three layers of six-centimeter thick sound-absorbing nanomaterial together with the active phase cancellation waves reverberating in the gaps between each layer created a hyper-silence in the air which was both unnerving and stifling.
Still, it was a required accommodation for EASC Board meetings, and these days it may even be necessary.
A large holo projection filled the back half of the room, creating a near-real representation of the view from his ‘chair,’ were he to be sitting in Vancouver. If he turned his head the holo followed his eyes, in a complete 360-degree circle should he desire to see if anyone stood behind his virtual presence.
As it had been for the last several meetings, the scene was rather chaotic. Aides bustled about and mini-conferences were underway scattered around the room. In the past it might have made him feel like an outsider, cut off from the real power. Today though, he simply couldn’t get worked up over it; he was in too good a mood.
After all, he had his war.
He made an effort to tamp down the smile he realized was growing on his lips as Alamatto called the meeting to order.
“Good morning. By now I assume everyone has transitioned to wartime protocols and procedures within their organizations. It’s still early yet, but we need to stay in front of developments. General Foster, if you would update us on the Arcadia situation?”
The Northwestern Regional Commander nodded solemnly. In Liam’s opinion, he should be handing in his resignation and crawling off in shame after allowing such a humiliating defeat to occur on his watch.
“Yes, sir. The casualties have risen to 763, but I don’t expect them to rise appreciably further. The damage assessment has been completed, and it is not good. We lost all the fighters stationed at the base and two of the four frigates which were groundside—the other two sustained significant but repairable damage. Seventy-two percent of the physical structures are a total loss. Temporary plasma shields have been placed around the headquarters building to enable it to retain some functionality. Most of the electronic systems were underground and are undamaged, thankfully.”
“What’s the status of the orbital arrays?”
“Sixty-four percent of the sensors suffered damage and are functioning at reduced capacity. Six of the fourteen plasma weapons—those facing the region the attackers approached from—were destroyed.”
“It’ll take months to replace those—and hundreds of millions!”
Liam rolled his eyes in the direction of the EASC Logistics Director. If ever there was a more whiny, pansy little bitch, he hadn’t met them.
Alamatto acknowledged the Director but kept his attention on Foster. “In the short term, the diminished planetary defenses are our largest concern. It’s my understanding a squadron is inbound from Fionava to provide active patrols in the system for now.”
“Obviously this initial setback is unfortunate. However, given no declarations of war had been issued at the time, we must not view it as a defeat. But we are at war now, and the important thing is to focus on winning it, as quickly and bloodlessly as possible.”
Liam leaned forward expectantly. “What’s our first front? We should have already moved by now, in my opinion. The 2nd and 3rd Brigades attached to the Southwestern Command are at full strength and on alert, ready to engage against any target identified.”
Solovy exhaled in the annoying, holier-than-thou way she had. “General, it would take a week for your ships to reach Senecan space. If you will send a squadron to Fionava to compensate for the one dispatched to Arcadia, that will be sufficient for now.”
“Well what are we doing, then? Sitting around with our thumbs stuck up our asses?” Dammit, now that his war was here, he needed to be in it. He had lobbied for one of the northern regional commands several times in the last few years, but had been unsuccessful. Maybe with Foster in a weakened position….
Solovy looked positively smug. “Far from it. While Admiral Rychen’s forces maneuver into position for strikes on Senecan targets—forgive me, General, perhaps you’d like to brief everyone?”
Alamatto smiled weakly. He seemed nervous and uncertain, even for him, and practically bowed in deference to Solovy. Liam briefly wondered what power plays may be at work in Vancouver.
“For several years Senecan Intelligence has maintained long-range passive hyperspectral scanners near significant Alliance assets, including Scythia, Messium, Erisen, Fionava, August and New Cornwall. They haven’t succeeded at placing any in range of Earth, but nonetheless, this has been one area in which their technology is superior to ours. We haven’t been able to do anything about the scanners, beyond obscuring signals where we can, for fear of provoking further hostilities. Obviously that is no longer a concern. Within the next two hours they will find every one of their scanners destroyed and their ability to eavesdrop on any strategic discussions or monitor troop movements effectively nulled.”
Liam sighed. He had to admit it was a smart tactic. A little too sneaky and clever for his taste, but arguably necessary. “And after that?”
“Here are the plans for the next four days.” A screen superimposed itself over the holo of the conference room. “For obvious reasons, this information will not be transmitted over the exanet, even secure channels, so please study it now.”
Alamatto gestured to one of the ‘guests,’ EASC Special Projects Director Brigadier Jules Hervé. “Brigadier, thank you for coming. Would you brief us on the status of Project ANNIE?”
Goddamn Artificial. Mere mortals should not be playing at creating life.
“Certainly, General. ANNIE was not scheduled to go live for another four months, but given the current circumstances we are working to accelerate the timetable—” the woman glanced around the table to head off premature objections “—while maintaining strict safety protocols.”
“During our testing, we’ve begun feeding it our existing data on the Senecan military—fortifications, assets, leadership, numbers—as well as historical data, and plan to compare its analyses with our existing tactical forecasts. We expect it to produce a number of refinements and likely valuable new insights. This will allow us to utilize some of its capabilities before formally bringing it online.”
Rychen spoke up. “And what does ‘bringing it online’ mean, precisely? I assume we’re not handing over the codes to the missiles, but what are we planning to do?”
Hervé adopted a more confident posture in her chair. She was an attractive woman, with piercing, intelligent blue eyes and rich mahogany hair wound back in a conservative braid. It was a shame she was a warenut.
“Certainly we will not be handing over the codes to anything bearing lethal capability. Once ANNIE is live it will receive real-time feeds of all military, war-related and surveillance data. It will also monitor news feeds and exanet traffic.
“To put it simply, it will look for patterns in the chaos. It will see what we cannot. We anticipate it to be able to alert us to impending attacks, secret troop movements and exploitable weaknesses in the enemy. For starters.”
Rychen nodded. “That does in fact sound useful—and safe. Might we be overdoing the safety precautions a bit?”
“Well, Admiral, the thing about synthetic neural nets is they display a habit of developing a mind of their own, so to speak. It’s best to keep them securely inside a high fence, because even if the core programming is perfect—which is a very big ‘if’—synthetics have been known to rewrite their internal code on occasion.
”
Alamatto gave her an appreciative smile. “Thank you, Brigadier. It goes without saying we need ANNIE’s capabilities as soon as feasible, but of course we can’t sacrifice safety and security.”
Once Hervé had excused herself from the room, Alamatto turned to Solovy. “Admiral, when is your daughter projected to arrive?”
“She should be planet-side midday tomorrow.”
What?
“Good. We’ll tentatively schedule an audience for day after tomorrow, say 1500. Needless to say, if her claims prove to be accurate they are a significant concern we must take into account.”
“General, my daughter is many things, but fanciful is not one of them. I expect they will be exceedingly accurate. Unfortunately.”
Alamatto appeared to wilt into his chair. “Aliens, on top of everything else…but let’s not rush to any conclusions for now.”
Liam pushed aside the strategic plans screen he had been reviewing with half an eye—but before he could interrupt, the Logistics Director had.
“Excuse me, did you say ‘aliens’? Is there something we haven’t been informed of?”
Alamatto hurriedly straightened up; the expression on his face made it clear he hadn’t intended to let that slip out. “Our scientists are still examining the initial data, and I don’t want to send it to the larger group until they’ve evaluated it. It’s not an immediate concern.”
Liam jumped in this time. “Perhaps we would be a better judge of how immediate a concern it is.”
“You will be fully informed before we make any decisions on the matter. We’ll discuss it when the data is ready, and not before.”
He scoffed but settled back in his chair. Aliens? Two hundred years of extra-solar exploration, and no extraterrestrial life with intelligence greater than that of a canine had been discovered. No ruins, no artifacts, no trace of sentient life. If ‘evidence’ of aliens had suddenly materialized now, it had to be an attempt at distraction on the part of the Senecans. The timing was too fishy for anything else.
And who the Hell was Solovy’s daughter, anyway?
46 Siyane
Space, Central Quadrant
“Ebanatyi pidaraz, u etogo pridurka poehala krisha!”
Caleb heard the outburst from the lower deck and hastily finished dressing after his shower.
The morning had been a little awkward for them both as they tried to figure out what these new circumstances, this new phase of their…relationship, he supposed, meant for them. That and he struggled with what and how much to reveal regarding his new mission.
He was relieved to have devised a way to get in the game, to be able to act to avert disaster. Volosk was on board with the plan, which essentially involved him walking into enemy territory, straight into their seat of military power—and asking for their help. It was risky, daring, highly likely to fail and reasonably likely to get him arrested or shot.
But he didn’t make a habit of failing. Or getting shot. Getting arrested had occurred a few times, and once or twice it hadn’t even been on purpose.
The plan stood a better chance of succeeding with her help; in truth he had no reason to keep it from her. Yet he was no longer merely the prisoner-turned-stowaway-turned-traveling companion, but again the intelligence agent. This was his job, and in his job secrecy and subterfuge were the order of the day.
Reveal only what you must; lie if you can.
Still, the current situation constituted an exception, right?
The argument continued unabated in his head as he went upstairs and found her pacing in considerable agitation between the data center and the couch. “What’s wrong?”
“This. This is what’s wrong.” He didn’t think an aural was capable of displaying anger in its generation—but if it could, this one would’ve done so. He crossed the deck to her side to read the message she had projected.
Ms. Solovy,
Thank you for your report on possible anomalous activity in the Metis Nebula. As you are no doubt aware, all reports must be submitted via physical data disk in order to be officially accepted. Once we receive a physical copy from you, the Astronomical and Space Science Department will review the scientific findings and contact you should we need further information.
However, as a courtesy to the EASC Director of Operations, I have briefly looked over the report. While startling and rather disturbing, according to Earth Alliance Assembly Regulation AAS 41767.239.0655k, any claims of alien discovery must be validated by an official envoy of the Earth Alliance government using approved protocols.
After receipt of a physical copy of the report and analysis of its claims, if the Astronomical and Space Science Department finds them worthy of investigation, we will request authorization to assemble a survey team and deploy it to the Metis Nebula. Given the severity of the claims, we look forward to receiving the materials in a timely manner.
Regards,
— Dr. Aaron LaRose
Director, Astronomical and Space Science Department
Science Advisor to the Office of the Prime Minister
“Well—”
“This is why I hate politicians. This is why I hate bureaucrats. This is why I refuse to have anything to do with the government or the military or anything which remotely looks like it might be connected to the government. Stupid, bloated, overwrought bureaucracy has lost the capacity for even rudimentary independent thought. Ugh!” With a visceral groan she threw herself onto the couch and dropped her head into her hands.
It took him a minute to get past his own stunned reaction and circle around to sit beside her. “Perhaps he didn’t actually review the report—I have to believe if he did his reaction would be a bit more alarmed.”
“Oh, I’d believe he reviewed it.” Her voice was muffled against her hands. “But he’s a government lackey. What else is he expected to do? He has a checklist full of procedures and every fucking thing which crosses his fucking desk must be corralled through that fucking checklist. It’s the only thing which exists in his world—without it there would be chaos! And he’s probably got a fucking checklist for that, too….”
She groaned into her hands. “I swear, I should just let them all die.”
“Hey….” He reached over and gently pulled the closest hand away from her face, then lifted her chin so she was forced to look at him. “Possibly. But you won’t, because you’re a better person than they are.”
“I’m really not. I can count on one hand the number of people in the universe I truly like or even particularly care about…well, maybe plus the other pinky if I have to add you.”
“Do you?” It came out far more serious in tenor than he had intended.
She shifted her attention away, but her mouth curved up in what closely resembled a smile. “I suppose.” He suspected it might have come out far more affectionate in tenor than she had intended.
Then she sighed, and the moment passed. “I can already see how it will all play out. I’ll yell and scream and make an ass out of myself, and the bureaucrats will frown and hem and haw and suggest calm and caution, and I’ll end up flipping off the EASC Chairman or the Defense Minister or, hell, the Prime Minister himself. And getting kicked out of the building isn’t going to help the situation, but it’ll hardly matter at that point….”
Abruptly her hands fell to her lap; she nodded sharply. “Okay. Pity-party over.” She leapt up and strode over to the data center.
“I am responding to let Dr. LaRose know he will have his precious hardcopy by tomorrow evening. I am checking to make sure my mother is arranging me an audience with the EASC Board, because if anything is a matter for the military, this damn sure is.”
She worried at her lower lip. “And I think I need to make the visuals of the scary tentacle ships bigger.”
She eyed him over her fork piled high with pasta. He had managed to pull her away from the data long enough to sit down and eat something for dinner, though not until after he had whipped up the angel hair pasta wit
h Campari tomatoes and spinach and the tempting aroma filled the cabin.
“What.”
He chuckled, a little chagrined at having been caught. Her ability to read him was approaching uncanny levels. “You do realize you’re bringing an enemy spy into Alliance military headquarters, right?”
She rolled her eyes in mild amusement. “You won’t be recognized, will you?”
“I highly doubt it. No more than two dozen people in the galaxy are aware of what I do for a living—and I’m fairly certain none of them are on Earth. My official record shows me as an assembly manager for Terrestrial Avionics, as you discovered, but even it’s a very old image.”
“You’ve got fake identities, right? Can you use one of them? Samuel maybe?”
“Samuel isn’t one, but yeah, absolutely. I can—”
“It isn’t? Why did you use it with me, then?”
“It’s just somebody I knew and was the first name to pop in my head.”
“Hmm.” She frowned. “Can we say you’re a scout for a corp and we bumped into each other while investigating the Nebula?”
“I happen to have a ready-made identity for such an occasion. I can be Cameron Roark, minerals scout for Advent Materials out of Romane.”
“How many fake identities do you have?”
“More than two, fewer than ten….” At her widening eyes he shrugged. “What? I’m a versatile chameleon.”
Her expression darkened as she busied herself twirling more pasta around her fork. When she spoke, her voice had lowered noticeably in tenor and volume. “So we’re once again back to the fact that I wouldn’t know if you were lying to me.”
He exhaled through pursed lips. “Normally I’d say no, you wouldn’t…but you appear to have my number, don’t you?”
She regarded him with such intensity he felt stripped, bare. “Do I?”
Still, he struggled past the instinct to mask himself behind a façade and forced himself to meet her gaze honestly. “A minute ago, I wasn’t entirely truthful as to where the name ‘Samuel’ came from—and you knew it, didn’t you?” Her mouth merely twitched in response, which was response enough.
Rogue Stars Page 102
