by T J Bryan
The discussion went on for over an hour but each participant never changed their position. Helen was concerned with the loss of their genetic material to a culture of monsters or soon to be monsters. Silvi wanted to complete the deal she had endorsed at Wu. Emmitt knew of the pending weapons shortage and its' inevitable result.
Abel listened carefully to each argument, and found each to have merits. Abel spoke for the first time in an hour. "Well this is all academic until we know if the engines are any good. It's also academic if the citizens of Hypsistos will not deal with us or they find themselves digging through the ashes of war. As for our genes, well the Theans could easily ambush someone from Wu, or the other systems and take what they want. The fact that they have asked for us to supply the cadavers I find interesting. In fact simply asking indicates that they do not want to engage in theft or murder. Amoral the Theans may seem to us, but there is clearly a resistance to simply taking lives for genetic material."
A bright light flashed through the window of Abel' office followed by the concussive explosion and flying glass. Helen and Emmitt who were sitting with their backs to the window were thrown forward onto the desk. Silvi who had been standing at that moment fell against the wall her left arm and forehead bleeding from the flying window glass. Abel had simply toppled from his chair and had been protected by the steel desk.
Arne Thorgaut, after months of silence, had struck again.
Abel shook himself and stood. Helen continued to lie on the floor and she was conscious but stunned. Emmitt was silent. Abel took a quick look at Silvi who appeared very injured with blood streaming across her face, but he quickly realized that she was in no immediate danger. The wounds might leave a scar on Silvi's face but they were not deep and life threatening. Abel turned to Emmitt and crawled across the glass strewn floor. Emmitt was breathing but flying debris had struck the back of his head and Abel knew from years of police and emergency services work that the impact of the debris was life threatening.
Abel looked toward Silvi who had her vid-com in her hand and was calling up EMS.
"No time Silvi," said Abel who found himself yelling. His hearing was damaged from the nearby explosion and he could hardly hear himself speak. "We need to carry Emmitt to the ER. There will be many injured and EMS will be swamped."
Silvi nodded in agreement as Helen rose. Silvi saw Helen draw her fingers through her hair as bits of glass fell to the floor. Helen was all right.
Abel stood and reached for one of the plastic chairs now strewn about in the office. Together with Silvi and Helen they raised Emmitt onto the chair and with a roll of office tape the enveloped him onto the char. Together they carried Emmitt on his chair down the stairs, across the courtyard and into the ER of the Hospital. The time from the explosion to their entry to the hospital had been less than four minutes, but the wounded and injured were already streaming into the ER.
The bomb had been big Abel realized. Much bigger than Arne's first attempt and very much larger than the bomb that had gone of prematurely on the runabout months before. As the ER staff took Emmitt away, and presumably to a doc-box, Abel left the ER and walked out into the courtyard. There across the plaza the newly built State Visitors Quarters was a smoking ruin.
A package of flyers or notices must have been included in the bomb and they littered the plaza. Most were burned or burning, but a few could be read. Able walked swiftly to the center of the plaza and picked one of the flyers up.
Freedom!
Restore our Birthright!
Rise up against the Dictators!
Free Elections Now!
Sovereignty Alliance is the People!
Abel let the paper fall from his hands and he took a long look at the smoking residence. EMS had arrived as well as the small Fire Department to deal with the aftermath of Arne's madness. Abel knew that at this time of day the plaza would be full of students and he was certain there would be deaths. If May Wong had already taken up residence she may well have died in the explosion, but as Abel looked about he saw a shaken Bjorn Haverson attending to a wounded student just short of the shattered steps to the State Visitors Quarters. Bjorn was a surgeon as well as their newly elected Chairman and standing near him taking in the entire expanse of the devastation was May Wong.
Able walked quickly to May Wong. "Ambassador Wong, please follow me to a safer place."
May did not move but only stared at the burning wreckage of the once fine house. "No," she said. "I have seen terror before. There is no safe place."
...
Narlanda - Athenaeum - Year 3247. May 23 ET: 09:43
The elderly gentleman introduced himself as Thucydides. The white haired man spoke, "Oh, not the Thucydides of ancient times. My father thought it somewhat of a joke to name me after the great historian. I had shown little interest in history at school as a child, so the name was some kind of lesson perhaps."
Farn stood in stunned silence. What had this man meant by asking her why she had taken so long to come to Narlanda? And how did he know her name?
Thucydides turned toward the young woman at his side who was holding his elbow to keep the old man steady. "This is my great, great, granddaughter Aelia. She is of great help and I think she will someday make a fine editor."
Farn was full of questions but before she could ask, Thucydides spoke again, "Let us remove ourselves to the Academy. It's a bit cooler there than out here in the hot sun, and I am sure you have many questions. In fact I have as many questions for you Farn, as you will have for me."
Farn, Sandra and John followed up the sloping path and past several ancient and weathered columns. A wide gently sloping staircase led upward toward the first of six very large stone buildings and above the grand entrance of the first building was a long faded passage. It read 'We are not makers of History. We are made by History.'
The interior of the Athenaeum was cool and quiet. Across its' massive floor were dozens of work stations each composed of a wide desk made of wood, several chairs, and piles and piles of paper. In the center of the table sat a large inter-tab with three screens and at each table sat one or two people reading and typing. 'Editors' Farn realized. These people must be editors.
Thucydides led them further into the great room and up another flight of stairs into a kind of ceremonial hall. Light was streaming in from windows set high in the stone wall and an enormously long table that could well sit fifty or more dominated the room. Thucydides led them to one end of the table and indicated that they should sit.
Farn, Sandra, and John sat in the comfortable leather cushioned wooden chairs. Farn ran her hand over the arms of the chairs and noticed years of wear had polished the wood to a high shine. The overall effect of the room, its' people, and its' building was one of antiquity. This place is really old thought Farn.
Thucydides whispered something into the ear of Aelia and she left moments later to return with a tea service and some tiny crackers.
Farn was about to ask her first question, but Thucydides waved his hand gently. "First we must have tea with our new friends. Then we talk."
Farn could hardly contain herself as she sipped her hot tea and nibbled on a spicy cracker.
Thucydides spoke before Farn could finish her tea. "Welcome to Narlanda and the Athenaeum. We have been here for over four thousand years editing, updating, and compiling the Encyclopaedia Gallectica. As to how we knew you were to arrive that will require some explanation."
"Indeed," replied Farn. "I am all ears."
He continued, "Farn, we have for centuries relied on a steady flow of information about the universe from our 'journal keepers.' Some of these keepers are well trained in the arts of observation and writing, and others mere observers and amateurs at the pen. Our keepers observe their world and simply write down what they see. Some are highly educated and often hold high positions in education or government or the military, but most are simple citizens of whatever system they live in, or have the opportunity to visit. Many of their observation
s provide a powerful insight into the politics, technology, economics, or social conditions they observe. Others are simply misplaced gossip, rumour, or fantasy. I would dare say that most keepers have no idea that their observations are the basic material of the EG. Most simply write the journal for their own amusement, and in ignorance of how that knowledge will be used."
Farn finished her tea and Aelia poured a fresh cup.
"The keepers provide their journals, and they are gathered up, and sent here to the Athenaeum for review, storage, and if needed careful scrutiny. Very little of the keepers observations make it into the official EG."
He paused a moment to sip his tea and continued. "Sometimes the journals are hundreds of years old by the time they arrive. They often take circuitous routes and indeed many are lost never to arrive. However eventually many do arrive and from the hundreds or millions of journals we attempt to extract the truth. But even what we thought was the truth of a thousand years may be upset and changed by the arrival of an ancient journal."
Farn finally spoke, "But the EG is more than history. The technology sections are rich in detail."
"Yes," replied the old man. "Most of the great scientists and technologists wanted their ideas and creations to live well beyond their simple life spans. Most cooperated with the journal keepers and provided great details about their discoveries, creations or theories. Even a few of the great minds were active keepers themselves. Why even on you home system of Jamon there are journal keepers and only four months ago the journal of one of your citizens arrived informing us of the return to the universe and mankind of your Commonwealth. That is why we have been expecting to see you. It was only a matter of time until you came to visit us and seek the latest edition of our life's work."
Farn was stunned. Someone on Jamon was a journal keeper? Who were they? How did the journal make it to Narlanda? Farn had so many questions.
Thucydides continued, "Farn Mayer, many of our journal keepers have no idea that they are providing information to the editors of the EG. Many simply think they are keeping a diary and we prefer that they think so. A simple diary, while often exaggerating personal matters, is frequently quite accurate in its' depiction of events. In the case of the Obsidian Commonwealth we know for instance of your joining the Obsidian Commonwealth Navy. We even have the date and the dates of your progression through the OCN system. Unfortunately our keeper in Jamon has ceased her efforts due to your internal discord. However we do have her journal and it is under review and editing as we speak."
Farn managed to blurt out a question, "Who?"
Thucydides turned to Aelia. Aelia spoke, "A woman named Nolo. Millicent Nolo. She has proven a keen observer of Jamon. Alas we understand that she is no more."
Milli Nolo thought Farn. The woman who operated the diner on the Public Dock. A quiet woman who had every opportunity to observe the comings and goings of the Commonwealth. Milli knew just about everyone in the Habitat.
"Before you draw too many conclusions Farn," Aelia interjected, "Millicent Nolo had no idea we were going to read her observations. She simply thought she was keeping a diary. A detailed diary at that, but only a diary."
"But how did you get a copy?"
"Ah, now Farn that is a secret. At least a secret for now. Just let us say that as she wrote on her inter tab we listened." replied Thucydides as he took another sip of tea.
Thucydides drew a breath and continued, "Now you have a rather remarkable person on board your ship, and one we are most anxious to speak with. Every hundred to two hundred years mankind is blessed, or some say cursed, with great intellect which leads to great challenges. Intellect alone is neither good nor bad, however I think it is always good. But the issue is how that intellectual work or breakthrough is applied by other mortals. Therein lies the moral dilemma. The bow and arrow, steam engines, fission power, fusion engines, genetic engineering, terra forming, all have the power to change men's lives and indeed change the course of human space in the universe. Such a challenge and change we face today. Now we are most anxious to speak with your most remarkable passenger".
"Nomi?" said Farn.
"Yes." replied Thucydides and Aelia simultaneously.
Chapter Seventy Six
Jamon System - Collegium Seminar Room - Year 3247. May 23 ET: 11:45
"Dr. Auber says Emmitt will probably survive, but he has been badly injured," said Helen as she stood and looked out the window facing the distant temple. "9 dead and 14 wounded. Arne is a madman. I am completely at a loss as to what he thinks he can gain by this terror."
Silvi, Abel, Bennet Nolo, Chief of ES Taylor Godfrid, and the Chairman sat quietly as Helen continued with her status report on the dead and injured. "Temple services will be the day after tomorrow at noon. We will need to provide visible security, and our citizens will no longer accept simple observation as the best way to ensure security. They will demand a crack down and massive police presence at any gathering. Now, as for the obvious, the bomb was not placed in a particularly public place. A symbolic one at that, but if Arne wanted to kill hundreds he could have put the bomb in the concert hall last week, or even in a Collegium lecture hall during a popular class.
Chairman Bjorn Haverson shook his head. "Helen is right Abel. We must appear to be doing something rather than careful observation and situational awareness."
Abel had let them talk about a heavier police presence, but when they seemed to have exhausted all their justifications for such action he spoke. "You know of course that Arne will strike again. And by providing a massive police presence, stop and frisk, and unlawful detention, we simply play into his hands. Let's say that we post a dozen police at the concert hall for next week's Collegium Choir Recital of Handel's Messiah and he blows the place up. Who will get the blame. Arne? No. We will receive the blame for not protecting the people from an obvious threat. This is exactly what Arne and his oddly named Sovereignty Alliance wants. They want the public to focus on our failures to protect them rather than the insane actions he takes in committing murder."
"But Abel," interjected Bjorn, "Yes, yes. you are right of course. But to do nothing is unacceptable both morally and politically."
Abel turned to the new Chief of EMS. "Taylor. What can you tell us about the bomb. Your forensics folks seemed finished this morning."
Taylor Godfrid had argued strongly against his appointment as Chief of ES. Over and over again he wanted out of the job, but Abel had convinced him that as the senior surviving constabulary officer remaining after the Arne Thorgaut's attempted coup d'état it was his duty to take charge of Emergency Services.
Taylor Godfrid reached nervously for his inter-tab and thumbed the display. "Well, we spent all night going over the wreckage. Chemical analysis on the bomb just came in. It was made of the same stuff as Arne's last bomb, but only more of it; a lot more. This time he used a real time trigger rather than a timer. So somebody, and I doubt it was Arne, was near the plaza to set it off. It could have been worse. Only moments before the Collegium Sports Association had a rally nearby for the upcoming intramural basketball championship. There were hundreds gathered, perhaps as many as a thousand. We really dodged a bullet on that one. If the person who set off the bomb was not Arne, then they might have had qualms about killing so many students."
Abel interrupted, "And the bombs location?"
"Seems the bomb was placed internal to the State Visitors Residence as the building was under construction. Perhaps as long as three months ago. They put it into an interior wall. We checked with sniffers but we didn't find it when the building was completed. Seemed the thing had been placed into a sheet metal box that was completely sealed. If it was vacd a few times and thoroughly cleaned, our sniffers would not find it."
"Which chemicals are needed for his bombs and in what quantities?" asked Helen.
"Sodium chlorate, nitrobenzene, and a few other chemicals. But in this instance they would have needed a lot of the stuff. There are small amounts here in the Chemistry D
epartment of the Collegium, but nowhere near enough to take down a building. The Fabricators Guild has stocks of the stuff for making some kind of bleaching agent. They also have nitrobenzene, but so does the Miners Association. We checked their records and they don't seem to have any missing."
Helen thought a moment, "How much of the sodium stuff would they need to take out the building?"
Rob replied, "Well given the size of the explosion I'd say quite a lot. Perhaps a fifty kilos."
"Anyone else have these ingredients in quantities needed for a bomb like that?" asked Abel.
"No." Replied Rob.
Abel sat in silence for a long time before Helen spoke. "Then someone in the Fabricators Guild or the Miners Association is working with Arne. That's the only answer."
Bennet Nolo who was Abel's 'aide de camp' and bodyguard spoke next. "Some of the coup plotters, the ones at the bottom of Arne's group, were members of the Miners Association. Out of work, not to smart, and greedy. Most died, like the shooters up on the temple steps. Some died in the fires at the food distribution centers. And we did catch some. I remember the trials."
Rob stood for a moment and looked out the window. "Yea, We caught four, one died in custody from burns, and the other three were tried and found guilty. I'm sure you remember the trial. Stephen Klein broadcast every moment of it as well as the executions that followed. I'm no fan of capital punishment but those bastards deserved what they go."
Abel straightened up in his chair. "Crime has reverberations, and executions often have long lasting echo's regardless of the guilt of the criminals. Let's quietly take a look at any of the friends and family of the executed. Someone might well hold a grudge of some misplaced outrage. We need to do this discretely and if we find a lead we need to reserve action until we understand were Arne will strike next. Arne has few supporters in the Habitat, and perhaps fewer with each attack. Finding a link might well lead us to Arne himself."
