by Mark Henwick
“Directive override,” I say. “Reference Aguirre 822.”
There is no ‘Aguirre 822’, but it will make them think my grandfather programmed in a back door.
The system remains silent.
“Access document 3010-05-01 section 5,” I say.
“Access is not possible.” Justinian’s words sound hesitant to me.
“Access document 3010-05-01 section 5, from the modules.”
The projection of Xabat Abarran Aguirre disappears, to be replaced by a document with the formal heading and notifications of the government, identifying it as confidential minutes of a meeting of ministers.
There is a shocked silence in the room.
“Confirm that this is an accurate copy of the same document in the archives.”
“Confirmed,” the system says.
“Ministro Sánchez, stop this immediately,” Eneko calls out. “This woman is attempting to override confidentiality mechanisms that are fundamental to the government’s proper operation.”
I ignore the shouting and speak again to the machine. “Extrapolate, Justinian: all documents that exist in the modules can be read and are true and exact copies of documents in your main memory matrix.”
I feel the rush of Hwa and Xing breaking through the AI’s final defenses.
“If all matched documents can be read, then directive JGH7464 has no function and no legal basis. Override directive JGH7464, reference Aguirre 822,” I say loudly.
Hwa and Xing withdraw. I’m left alone with Justinian.
Xabat’s image returns. “Directive JGH7464 is overridden. You have full access rights, Zarate Mirari Aguirre.”
Yes!
Sánchez gives up on the gavel. He stands stiffly and his clerk yells for silence until the minister is able to speak to the courtroom.
“It seems you have the opportunity to present your proof, Zarate Aguirre,” he says, “but I must now prepare to recuse myself. The scope of this case means that it may have to be taken over by the Commission of Enquiry. Commissioners Taha and Ivakin, I call you to the bench to co-preside on this case.”
Chapter 68
Zara
The courtroom jumps into frenetic activity following Sánchez’s words. Taha and Ivakin are quickest; they rush to the front bench. Taha is shouting even before he sits down. “I am halting this case, pending clarification from the Terran Council on jurisdiction.”
Sánchez has not moved. “That won’t be possible yet.”
“What do you mean? I’m either presiding or I’m not.”
“You are co-presiding, Commissioner, in the event that I have to recuse myself and you need to take over. That hasn’t occurred yet. Until then, you are a member of this bench, and a session is in progress.”
Taha’s legs give out and he sits down before his mouth actually closes.
I had also misunderstood what Sánchez had said. Now I see I have a small reprieve, but either I find something in the archive that doesn’t implicate Sánchez, or I have one chance to catch them all in this courtroom while he’s still presiding. Catching him without implicating the others would just mean he’d hand over to Taha and the case would stop dead.
While I’m still thinking of the best way to proceed, Xing is searching the archives at an ever increasing pace. I can sense him copying parts to the Shohwa; it feels like soft satin brushing against my mind. But I’m not sure of the legal standing of those copies; I want something here, which the Enquiry has to document and verify.
Ivakin is tapping her commspad, clearly expecting her signal to get through the jamming.
Hwa speaks quietly to me. “I’m going to let her get through. With a small addition.”
The ‘addition’ is that Ivakin’s pad is now connected to one of the secondary holo-projection displays in the courtroom, so when she gets through to a harried Captain Ndungane on board the TSS Annan, he finds himself beside Bleyd in an open conference call with the whole courtroom.
He takes it all in quickly, before his eyes move across to Hwa, Alice and Raul. I can see the gears engaging in his brain. I’m sure he knows they’re interfering with the electronic signals somehow.
I don’t have much time. The longer I take, the more opportunity for Ndungane to suspect Hwa’s true nature, and then the whole issue of unrestricted Self-Actualized Entities will become a huge problem with Earth.
So while everyone else is arguing around me like a neo-monkey’s tea party, I turn back to Justinian.
“Justinian, display holographically an index with summaries of any document or meeting in your records where the most recent arrival of the Xing Gerchu is discussed by members of the government.”
“There are no records for those parameters.”
No! They must have discussed it somewhere out of reach of Justinian’s recording systems. They probably hid anything to do with bribing the Commissioners as well.
Hwa sounds distracted: “Concentrate first on the Duhalde, Zara.”
There’s no time to be slow or subtle.
“Justinian, play the recording of the meeting in which an order was given to the customs cutter Duhalde to fire on the freighter Shohwa.”
On the holo-projector Justinian shows a meeting. I recognize the faces. Loiola is there, along with Goya, Ministro of Defense, and Berges, Ministro of Internal Security. Sánchez is there. And Eneko. A customs official on the bridge of a small ship, who I assume is the captain of the Duhalde, is present at the meeting by holo-projection.
“Justinian, display the portion where the order to fire was given.”
The projection reforms. The captain is speaking: “The Shohwa is now claiming Aguirre is not on board. I believe they’re preparing to enter Chang space.”
Ministro Berges stands up, her face pale with rage, and shouts at the official: “Destroy that ship. Now!”
“Justinian, increase the volume and replay that section on loop.”
The impact of the projection ripples through the room. People turn to look.
Sánchez stands without speaking, and moves towards the door at the back.
Raul joins me, looking worried, but I’m distracted by the abruptness with which Hwa and Xing have gone completely silent in my head.
I imagine I have a similar expression on my face to Raul, whose eyes are wide, unfocused.
“They’ve found something,” he says slowly. “All of them are analyzing. All of them. The Dowreth too. It’s like they’ve gone catatonic. It’s big.”
Realizing Sánchez has stepped down, Taha is back on his feet, banging the gavel. “This case is suspended.”
I’m ignoring him. The clip from the meeting where Berges orders the Duhalde to fire is on repeat, and I’m looking for whatever it was from the archive that so focused the analytical minds on the Shohwa.
The only effect of Taha’s order is that rest of the courtroom becomes quieter, which means everyone can see and hear the projection loop that Justinian is displaying.
Taha orders Justinian to stop. While Justinian completely ignores him, Taha is distracted by Ivakin, urgently whispering. Taha nods, straightens up and addresses Captain Ndungane on the screen.
“Captain, I order you to target missiles on the Xian ships threatening Newyan.”
“You’re no longer in my chain of command to be giving such an order, Commissioner Taha,” Ndungane responds. “No Xian ship is currently overtly threatening Newyan. It’s my estimation the action is not justified and your request is refused.”
“There’s an invasion in progress,” Taha says.
Ndungane grimaces. “I am monitoring the situation on the ground, Commissioner. A mixture of Xian and Kernow troops are distributing urgent relief supplies, and appear to be doing it efficiently. Newyan ‘police’ forces...” his face registers what he thinks of the police, “have been pushed aside, but there has been no violence, except in Cabezón, where Kernow troops stepped in to prevent further deaths of Newyan citizens by Syndacian mercenaries. I believe there is one
squad of Xian marines in the vicinity of Iruña, but their location is unknown, and they do not appear to be attacking anyone. I fail to see how this comprises an invasion.”
“Invasion takes many forms, Captain Ndungane,” Ivakin says. “The communications and computing systems on Newyan have been compromised, as you can see with the Justice Bureau’s system here. All that output is suspect.”
“Communications were compromised when the Newyan navy destroyed their satellite while trying to murder my wife,” Bleyd points out.
“That satellite was re-positioned by unauthorized access. Just as this access to the Justice system is unauthorized and all—”
“My access is authorized by rights that are laid down in Newyan laws,” I shout over her. “This data cannot be compromised. These verified recordings show that the Newyan government ordered their cutter to fire on the Shohwa. That is an act of war.”
“The electronic assault from Xian on Newyan facilities is an act of war. The degradation of the Newyan Justice system is an act of war,” Ivakin shouts back.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please.” Ndungane shouts louder than both of us, amplified by the court audio systems. “I have no evidence of electronic assaults. Yet.”
His eyes seek out Hwa, seated and ignoring everything around her.
“It is suspicious that Newyan’s destroyers’ electronic systems appear to have been compromised shortly after the arrival of the Xian relief convoy,” he goes on. “We are investigating.”
“Why aren’t you investigating the illegal overthrow of an existing legitimate regime?” I ask. “The actions have been financed and backed by other systems, and that’s an act of war as well.”
Ndungane shakes his head. “Those are allegations for the Commission to investigate. It’s not the Terran navy’s job to prevent multi-planet political movements bringing equality to the planet of Newyan, or any other planet in the Margin. Especially when the aims of the political movement seem much closer to Terran ideals than the feudalist oligarchies in place. The Terran position is that the people’s desire for change should be addressed.”
“There’s a way to achieve political change, and widespread murder, encouraged by other systems and with the complicity of the Commissioners, isn’t it,” I argue.
“Again, that sort of claim requires taking up with the Terran Council,” Ndungane says. “Nothing in what you’re claiming here requires me to act on the behalf of the former regime of Newyan, regardless of the process by which the change of regimes was implemented.”
He pauses. Some semblance of order has been returned and the room is looking to him as the person who holds the balance in this situation.
“I am therefore making a formal demand, under the terms of the Accords,” he says, “that Xian cease interference in the internal affairs of Newyan, and submit to the authority of the Enquiry. The Terran marines will take over from the Presidential Guard, and secure the Bureau of Justice. Refusal or resistance to the marines will be met with force.”
“Thank you, Captain,” Taha says. “As Commissioner of the Enquiry, I demand this access to the Newyan archives cease immediately. Ministro Loiola, shut that machine down now.”
Loiola is sweating. He clears his throat.
“Ministro!”
Loiola steps forward. “Justinian, cease all access not authorized by me personally.”
“Your authority is not recognized,” Justinian says.
I stagger, suddenly blind, distantly aware of Talan’s startled grasp of my arm.
I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.
She’s there again. The Goddess. In her infinite form.
As wide and deep as the night, a billion shining stars wheeling above me.
They are not empty, those stars, but those who look, may not see.
An image burns into my eyes. A horror. An unimaginable horror. The truth behind the threat among the stars.
I blink.
Not the Goddess. Morgen is trying to communicate with me. A deluge of data. A thousand streams of processing. The Dowreth, combined with Shohwa, have finally cracked the mystery of the Hajnal.
“Zara?” Talan is peering at me.
“Help me,” I whisper.
Loiola and Eneko are ignoring us, standing right there calling for Sánchez, who is no longer in the room, wanting Justinian shut down.
“Help me,” I say again, louder.
My body feels clumsy and slow. Too weak to do what I know I must.
I grab a surprised Loiola, pull him around.
He starts fighting. Talan holds him. Immobilizes him.
I take his hand and slap it down onto the identification panel that forms part of Justinian’s interface.
“Justinian! Identify this person.”
“This person is not identifiable by the defined parameters. There is an anomaly.”
Shouts from the room: What are you doing? Let go of him.
I ignore it all.
“Explain!” I say to Justinian.
“The physical structures match Urtzino Loiola, Ministro of the Bureau of Foreign Affairs, and Temporary Ministro of the Bureau of Information, but the chemical analyses are not within acceptable variation. This is not Urtzino Loiola.”
“The Xian have more than infiltrated the heart of our government!” Eneko shouts into the shocked silence. “They have subverted our archive system.”
Commissioner Taha is on his feet. “Turn that system off! Captain Ndungane, the Xian have failed to obey your orders to desist. I demand you take action immediately.”
The doors at the end are thrown open for the third time this session.
This time, the space is full of Terran marines.
“Now what?” Talan says. She’s looking over their heads.
I gasp as figures appear behind the Terran marines. Startled calls alert their squad commander. He turns.
Everyone in the room turns and stops where they are.
Chapter 69
Sánchez
Fabio Sánchez, ex-Ministro of the Bureau of Justice, stands at the window in his office.
He doubts many noticed him leave the courtroom, apart from Aguirre and Taha, of course.
It’s chaos down there. The Bureau’s intercom system is relaying events as they continue to unfold. He wonders if the Xian are piping that feed directly into the InfoHub. He knows they have the capability, and if they haven’t done it yet, it’s probably that they’re waiting to compose it into a straightforward, easily digestible message.
It’s over for the movement—they just don’t realise it yet.
He does. His letter of resignation is on his desk and logged in the government’s system.
Strictly speaking, this is not his office anymore, yet he remains.
The curtains are pushed to one side, out of the way. He’s opened the windows, letting the chill air come into the office and wash out the stale smell of fear and claustrophobia.
Word has got out in Iruña that something momentous is happening in the main courtroom of the Bureau of Justice. People are gathering in the Plaza Nagusia as he watches. There’s a thin line of Presidential Guards about thirty meters into the square, keeping the steps and front of the building clear, preventing anyone entering.
The people don’t need to come in to learn what’s happening. It will all become known soon.
He feels numb.
Justinian has spoken. This is not Urtzino Loiola.
It’s as if those simple words have broken some spell over his mind, and he can see again.
This is not Urtzino Loiola.
He shudders.
Are any of the inner circle who—or what—he thought they were?
The movement started, as he started, with the best intentions, with passion and belief and commitment to the cause. And went horribly wrong.
He must stand with the other guilty parties. It’s his fault, his blindness, his fear. His failure.
How? He keeps asking himself. How did it happen?
But it’s not a question for him; none of it is going to make any difference to Fabio Sánchez.
It does not redeem him by any measure in his own eyes, but he has done what he could.
Firstly, he’s let Aguirre loose in that courtroom with the unblinking eye of the Commission’s recorders fixed on her.
Either her testament will tear the movement down or it won’t. If it doesn’t, then it will have been the will of the people, which must always be paramount.
Secondly, Berges is dead, though she doesn’t know it yet.
He has sent the Ministro of Security the news from the courtroom, explaining that it was over, that the Xian were now in control and they would be coming to arrest her.
He knows what she’ll do. There’s a single-crew space yacht capable of getting her to the next system that’s stored in a restricted area on the terminus of the space elevator. Berges is probably already on her way up the elevator.
She’ll set off, trusting in the yacht’s small size and great speed to escape from the Xian, but Sánchez has reviewed the information from Captain Lim and the Santoña. He’s sure the Shohwa will be able to detect her yacht. They will hail her. He knows Berges. She won’t stop, and she’ll be blown to pieces with one shot from the Shohwa’s plasma cannon.
It’s better than Berges deserves, but it’s as tidy as he can be.
He’s been tidy in his resignation letter too, and eloquent, he hopes. The letter has been ready against this eventuality from the first time he had that strange vision of the Aguirre woman, as if she personified Themis, the goddess of Justice, armed with her sword, striding across the world, eyes blazing, coming for him.
His letter lays it out for all to see, the path that led to what he did ‘for the greater good’. The grim, clear-eyed admission of his guilt. The steps, small at first, so easy, that led him inexorably to be as monstrous as Eneko and Loiola.
Worse, because he knew all the time that what he did was wrong. Kept justifying it.
So, for instance, he must share the guilt of every crime by that psychopath, Berges.
Not just her. Every crime that any of them ordered. The theft, fraud, lies and murder.
