EMPIRE: Resurgence

by Richard F. Weyand

  “Yes, Milady Empress.”

  The Empress cut the channel then, and Kerrigan found herself back in her office on Galway.

  She was shaking.

  They had met with Kerrigan after an early lunch, and they had not gone back into the office. They were still in the private living room upstairs when they dropped out of VR.

  “How’d I do?” Burke asked.

  “That fire-breathing Empress thing you do is absolutely terrifying. I was glad I was on the same side as you, and not sitting opposite.”

  “But it’s true, you know. We can no longer leave these people to pull these kinds of pranks. If they will not stop, we will have to kill them all.”

  “I know, I know,” Ardmore said, holding up his hands. “I agree with you. But Maire Kerrigan probably believes right now you could do it yourself, with lightning bolts shot from your fingertips.”

  Burke chuckled.

  “Good. I would have hated to have underplayed it, and led her to believe I wouldn’t do it.”

  “You took care of that already, though, right? When she was gone, it was into the recording of the execution of six of the twenty-four spies under Jonah?”

  “Yes, that’s right. I put her right next to that young woman I shot second. So she could see my face as I shot her.”

  Ardmore nodded.

  “Yes, I think that probably would have done it,” he said. “So what happens now?”

  “We wait. We watch them. We see what they do. We’ll know, I think.”

  Ardmore nodded.

  “So do I.”

  “In the meantime, I have some preparation to do.”

  Museum

  Major Reginald ‘Red’ Law, Imperial Marines N/B/C response team commander, had his hands full with the cleanup at the Imperial War Museum. This was going to take a while.

  The first thing to do was set up an airlock so things could get into the cleanup site without allowing the contamination out. The airlock came as an inflatable unit, to allow its use in tight or irregular spaces. Once inflated, it was sprayed down with a hardener, then coated with a spray-on plastic. That was completed without incident.

  The damaged W25 nuclear warhead was the sole source of both the radioactive contamination and the toxic chemical contamination. The next thing to do was to get that stabilized so the spill didn’t get any worse.

  “Let’s bag the body and move it out of the way for now so we don’t disrespect the dead, Captain,” Law said. “That guy’s the reason we only got one room to deal with and not several city blocks. Then we’ll box the pit and bring in the sprayer.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Captain Bradley Kane said.

  Kane went over to where his operators sat in jump seats along the wall of the corridor, well down the hall from the airlock that had been set up, and gave the orders.

  The team had shown up in full haz-mat gear in case they had an open spill. Sometimes you just had to do what you had to do. But with a containment already in place due to Phil Stinson’s sealing off of the exhibit hall, they had gotten out of their suits for the moment and set up the airlock. The initial work in the exhibit hall itself would be done using radiation-hardened HARPER units that had been built for the task.

  HARPER units had been designed as maintenance units for Imperial Navy ships back in the time of Trajan the Great. Not robots, they were ‘remote bodies’ the operators would enter in VR. Using the cameras, hands, and treads of the HARPER units in place of eyes, hands, and feet, operators could perform routine maintenance and repair of Imperial Navy warships. Zero-time-of-flight QE radio links to the ships meant the operators could be, literally, anywhere. On an Imperial fleet base hundreds or thousands of light-years away, for example.

  Over the centuries, HARPER designs had improved and the technology matured. Specialized units had been built for non-fleet use, including hazardous material handling and cleanup. These specialized units were for Cleanup, Handling, And Remediation of Materials, and were called CHARMs. The CHARM units Law’s team were using were one-use-and-discard items. The team would not try to clean them up after this incident was over. It wasn’t worth the risk. Containers of them were delivered to the docks at the street level of the museum and simply walked up to the exhibit hall from there.

  Operators used the CHARMs to set the first of what would ultimately be several layers of body bags next to Boyle’s body, then delicately lift the body into the bag and zip the bag shut. They moved the bagged body about thirty feet to get it out of the way.

  “Sir, we have the body removed out of the immediate area,” one of Kane’s operators said.

  “All right. Let’s box the pit, Sergeant.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Two CHARMs moved a one-foot-square lead box to the floor alongside the damaged warhead’s stand. They took the lid off and set it down next to the box. One of the CHARMs then peeled back damaged plating and electronic debris to expose the pit. It was about the size of a bocce ball. The CHARM lifted the damaged pit out of the tangle of casing and burned packing and initiators, and put it in the lead box. The lid to the lead box was then placed on it, and the lead box was banded to keep it shut.

  “Sir, we have the pit boxed up.”

  “Proceed with the plastic spray, Sergeant.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  A special-purpose CHARM then edged up to the warhead and started spraying it with plastic. Around the sides first, to put down a base, then bridging up over the mangled nose of the device. It sprayed until the entire upper surface of the device, including the mangled hole in the top, was completely covered in at least an inch of plastic.

  Another CHARM then came up with a UV light on its arm, and worked its way slowly around the device, in three circular passes, to harden the plastic. Around once at the bottom, around once in the middle, then around once at the top, finally working its way across the mangled top.

  “Sir, we have the plastic finished on the top. Hardened, too, Sir.”

  “Let’s disassemble it from the stand now, Sergeant.”

  “Yes Sir.”

  One by one, the bolts through the stand’s upper flange and into the device were removed by a CHARM with a socket on its finger. When the last bolt came out, two of the CHARMs lifted the device, edged to one side, then set it on the floor. As they lowered it, they tipped it up on one side and held it there.

  The plastic-spraying CHARM now sprayed the upper half of the bottom surface and worked it around the edge to bind with the plastic layer on the side. The CHARM with the UV light now worked its light back and forth across the bottom surface, then around the sides.

  The two CHARMS holding the device then rolled it along the floor on its edge until the unsprayed half of the bottom surface was on top. As before, the plastic-spraying CHARM sprayed the upper half of the bottom surface and worked it around the edge to bind with the plastic layer on the side. The CHARM with the UV light then worked its light back and forth across the bottom surface, then around the sides.

  “We have the device completely encased now, Sir.”

  “Excellent, Sergeant. Let’s set it and the pit box aside for now and work on our containment.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  The CHARMs picked up the device and the lead box and moved them out of the most contaminated area. The plastic-spraying CHARM went over toward the doors and changed plastic cartridges to reload. It came back and started spraying a thin layer of plastic down on the floor area within about ten feet of the warhead’s prior location to captivate the materials that had settled to the floor. This did not get the hardener treatment with UV, as they wanted to be able to peel it up later, with most of the loose particles attached.

  “We have the floor sprayed now, Sir.”

  “Let’s see to the stand, Sergeant.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  A CHARM with an on-board welding rig went up to the stand and used his oxy-acetylene welding rig to cut the anchor bolts holding the stand to the floor. When the stand was free, the C
HARM started cutting it apart. Other CHARMs took the pieces and stacked them in a body bag. When the stand was completely disassembled and in the bag, the plastic-spraying CHARM sprayed down the stand members and the UV light charm hardened it. Other CHARMs turned the lump over in the bag, and the plastic-spraying CHARM sprayed the other side, followed by UV hardening. The bag was zipped up and set to one side.

  They had been at it now for almost twelve hours, and Major Law was sensitive to the sorts of mistakes one can make when fatigue started to set in. With the pit boxed, the device and the stand encased, and the floor passivated, he waved Captain Kane over to where he was standing, in VR, watching the progress in the exhibit room.

  “Let’s knock off for the night, Captain. The operators are on the edge of fatigue now, and we don’t want to screw up after they’ve been doing such a nice job.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Kane said. “What’s our bivouac?”

  “They’ve set us up in the big lobby downstairs, Captain. We get mess in the museum cafeteria, then we sack out among all the tanks and APCs.”

  “Yes, Sir. Sounds good to me.”

  Kane VRed to his Top.

  “Sergeant, let’s get the CHARMs all set up to charge, and get the air units running. Then we’ll break for the night. We got mess and bedrolls waiting downstairs.”

  “Yes, Sir. Sounds good to me.”

  More CHARMs were walked up from the dock, carrying portable air purifiers. They cycled through the airlock one at a time and set up their units in four areas near the spill. They plugged them into museum power and turned them on.

  The units had multiple filter stages. One was to collect small airborne particles, such as the smallest radioactive debris from the explosion. The other was a catalytic stage. These could be different depending on the impurity they were to remove. The ones they had in the units now were aimed at the toxic smoke from the burning of the packing material.

  All the CHARMs plugged themselves in, and the operators called it a day.

  The team of operators was having mess in the museum cafeteria. While the cafeteria looked like a Marine mess tent, the food was drawn from the stores that had been laid up for the museum opening.

  “At least the food’s good,” Tech Specialist 1c Larry Burton said.

  “Yeah, but I never slept under a hot zone before,” Tech Specialist 2c Floyd Harter said. “That’s only a few floors up.”

  “We’re monitoring the floor below. Any leakage, we’ll know long before it gets here.”

  “Yeah, I know. Just sayin’.”

  “And at least we ain’t goin’ in there ourselves, at least not yet.”

  “I’m still thinkin’ about that guy who went waltzin’ in there with no suit or nothin’,” Tech Specialist 1c Tim Farley said.

  “Yeah, that took some stones,” Burton said.

  “Did he know it was hot, though?” Harter said.

  “Sarge says yeah,” Burton said. “The captain told him there was a guy in there knew the major back in the day. That’s the guy who popped it. So the other guy musta known.”

  “The thing that gets me is he looked at peace,” Farley said. “Like he was happy with the choice he made. I don’t get that from a young guy like that.”

  “He was in civvies, but he was an Academy cadet,” Burton said. “Going into senior year.”

  “Oh. OK, that makes sense then,” Farley said.

  “He’s still got some stones,” Burton said.

  “Oh, yeah,” Farley said. “I’m not questioning that. Not at all.”

  After mess, most people moved on into the big lobby and the bedrolls. The lights were down low, and most of them went straight to bed. They didn’t need a lot of encouragement. They had been working all day, both at the museum and before, at the scanning station.

  And it was early call tomorrow.

  “That was really good work yesterday, everybody,” Major Law told his team on the all-hands channel.

  “Today, let’s see if we can get as much done, but at the same time take it a little easier. We’ll get the bots working, and spend a lot of our time monitoring them.

  “Our goals for today are to roll up the floor and get that sealed up, close off those ducts a little more permanently for now, and start sniffing out all the hot areas.

  “You all know how to do all that, so I’ll let you get to it. I just wanted everybody to know how pleased I was with our progress yesterday. I’m not sure another team exists could have pulled that off in a zone this hot.

  “You’re a good team – the best – and I’m proud to command you.”

  And so the days went. Major Law started every day with a little pep talk. As corny as it was, and as jaded as the specialists and operators on his experienced team were, they appreciated it. They would work twelve hours in VR every day, taking a break for lunch, which was brought up to them from the cafeteria by the unit’s support staff. They lunched in shifts, so that work on critical-path items stayed under way.

  The support unit outnumbered the operators by a lot. Anything to keep the operators and their experience on-line. A spill was dangerous until cleaned up, and the longer it took, the greater the danger something would go wrong. So meals were prepped and lunch was brought around and bedrolls were sent out to the Imperial Marines Combat Training Center for laundering and replaced with fresh every day. Anything to keep the operators on-line and happy. That primarily meant good sleep and good meals, and Law’s support staff was all over it.

  After a week, with the damaged weapon encased and the hot spots cleaned up, they lowered the status of the site to a Class 2 spill. That didn’t mean they were done by any means, but it meant the danger to Imperial City was over.

  Preparations

  Burke was busy the week before the funeral of Lieutenant Doolan. After her meeting with Maire Kerrigan Monday at noon, she checked the time in New Gobi, the capital of Sirdon. They were almost in synch, so she put in a meeting request to Genghis Khan XXIX, the satrap of Sirdon. While she waited for a response, she called Lina Schneider into her office.

  “Ms. Schneider, Milady Empress,” Edward Moody said as he waved Schneider in from the outer office.

  “Be seated, Ms. Schneider.”

  “Yes, Milady Empress.”

  Schneider sat while Burke composed her thoughts.

  “Ms. Schneider, I gave an ultimatum to Maire Kerrigan today. That the former DP’s plutocratic families will cease their opposition to the Throne, or we will hunt them down and kill them all.”

  “Indeed, Milady.”

  “Yes. This can’t go on. This most recent event was too close. Without the intervention of some truly exceptional people, they would have succeeded in their short-term goals. I think on the long term, it would have gone poorly for them, the Throne cannot take any more chances with these people.”

  “I see, Milady.”

  “Now, my understanding is we can target them, with DNA sniffers, by family. So if one family ceases this nonsense and is allegiant to the Throne, we can spare them, whereas if some other family remains truculent, we can target them.”

  “That is my understanding as well, Milady.”

  “Very good. So, Ms. Schneider, what I want to do is penetrate their councils. I doubt there will be a meeting of the ruling group of the families until after the funeral. Kerrigan will, I think be unavailable during this time. After the funeral, however, I want to be monitoring for a VR meeting that includes Maire Kerrigan, Antonio Sciacca, Karl Weibel and the other leaders. Can we detect that?”

  “Yes, Milady.”

  “Excellent. Now, Ms. Schneider, can I get into that meeting in management mode? Can I crash the meeting by switching from management mode into being present to them?”

  “I’ll have to check, Milady.”

  “You do that, Ms. Schneider. And let me know.”

  “Yes, Milady.”

  “Changing topics, how much luck have you had in tracking down where that live warhead came from?”

&nbs
p; “We’ve tracked most of the links, Milady. We do know for sure which family was behind it, though.”

  “And who is that, Ms. Schneider?”

  “Antonio Sciacca.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes, Milady.”

  “Very well, Ms. Schneider. Find out about those meeting issues for me.”

  “Yes, Milady.”

  “We have another unusual request,” said Kana Miura, the head of the Imperial Network Operations Center.

  “What is it this time?” asked her assistant, Marybeth Harris.

  “Investigations wants to know if the Empress can monitor a VR meeting in management mode.”

  “You mean, one where she hasn’t been invited? Has anyone ever done that before?”

  “No, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t possible,” Miura said. “I think it’s probably pretty easy, actually. I mean, from here. Given our permissions. But there’s more. Then she wants to be able to switch to live mode – be visible to the other participants – any time she wants. That may be harder. But we need to look into it.”

  “I wonder who she wants to drop in on.”

  “I don’t know, but I suspect they won’t be happy about it.”

  “I wouldn’t think so,” Harris said.

  Harris stared off into space for several seconds before continuing.

  “Actually, I think I know how to do that.”

  “Well, get working on it, then. Looks like they want the capability on-line by the end of the week.”

  “OK. I’ve got it.”

  Burke didn’t want to drag her Commandant of Imperial Marines, Imperial General Samuel Destin, to the Imperial Palace. She just put in a VR meeting request, then met him in channel 22, the VR simulation of her office.

  “Yes, Milady Empress.”

  “Be seated, General Destin.”

  “Yes, Milady.”

  “General Destin, how secure is Imperial Fleet Base Verona?”

  “In the Mantua Sector, Milady? I think it’s pretty secure after this latest roundup of spies.”