Gallego thought about what she was carrying. While she doubted the local technology would be up to task, she still needed to voice her concerns to Cheboi.
“These suits we’re carrying,” she said. “They are not going to set off any alarms, are they?”
“Not at all,” Cheboi replied, keeping her voice low. “Ordinary scanners won’t even pick them up. We’re golden as long as we don’t look too guilty.”
Gallego snickered and turned back to the advancing line. Only a few more arrivals remained before she would be forced to step through. When her turn came, the nearest official waved her forward casually. Gallego obliged and stepped into the receptacle mechanically, where she stopped. On either side of her, two scanners mounted in sliding tracks began to whirr. First, they slid down to the bottom of their tracks, then returned to the top, scanning her from head to toe, and then toe to head.
Gallego’s bio monitors alerted her to the fact that she was receiving a higher than usual dose of millimeter-wave radiation. The levels were still within normal tolerance ranges, they claimed. But the sudden onset was enough to worry them. Gallego shooed the warnings away and let the scanner finish doing its job. There was no reaction from the person manning the screen, and everyone else standing nearby appeared quite indifferent to her presence.
Gallego moved ahead again and made room for Cheboi to move up. A few steps away, she turned around to make sure her bodyguard wasn’t in any trouble. It was paranoid at this point, but she still felt the need to look. Sure enough, Cheboi was admitted past the receptacle too. No issues, complaints, or unwanted inspections.
Gallego couldn’t help but share an observation when Cheboi rejoined her.
[They just let in two women who are carrying state-of-the-art weaponry. Kind of makes you feel less safe doesn’t it?]
[Just keep walking,] Cheboi replied.
In no time, they were standing in the center of the honeycomb. Aljiran plaza, the first stop for all people setting foot onto Ganymedean turf. Around them, the walls extended upwards in levels. The heads of pedestrians were visible above the parapets that ran along the edge of these, showing faces of every possible Terran extraction. Some heads were covered with everything from fedoras and caps to yarmulkes and kufis and taqiyahs. Other heads were left exposed, with everything from braided locks and curls to shaved pates on display.
On the ground level, it was the same. Much like the differences between their respective cities, the people on Ganymede and the other Jovian worlds were only slightly different than those Gallego observed back home. And yet, the small contrasts in clothing, ornaments, and behavior were what let her know she was standing among Retros, people with whom she had little in common.
While their clothing looked outwardly like what Cythereans, Terrans, or Martians might wear, all of it was woven from fibers of normal, mundane matter. The hats and hairstyles were also indicative of cultural or religious backgrounds, sometimes both. And almost everyone was in possession of a folio, a tablet, or a wearable of some kind. Not one of them carried their hardware in their skulls. Gallego knew that if she called up an overlay and tried to access the local network, the experience would be extremely minimal by her standards.
The only difference was the constables who were standing about or moving between the crowds. Each of them wore the same grey uniform and skullcaps. Most had simple machine pistols slung around their necks, while some sported heavier rifles. Gallego could tell who the senior officers were because they carried a small slug thrower attached to their hips.
Along with the presence of automated drones, the number of officers in the plaza lent everything an air of a police state. The messages playing overhead, on a large display screen, confirmed this impression. While there were some advertisements running in small windows tucked in the corners, most of the displays were taken up by a single message playing on repeat.
Curfew in Effect, it said, in large, throbbing red letters. Beneath that, a smaller script appeared in solid blue letters. All foot traffic to return to their domiciles by 20h00.
Gallego stopped walking and started really looking at the people and things around her. Cheboi came to her side and waited quietly. A stream of pedestrians began to flow around them, people moving about in haste, all trying to get somewhere that wasn’t so exposed and out in the open. Gallego could feel it in the air. She could see it on the faces of everyone moving about them. She could even hear it in the faint bits of conversation that made it to her ears through the din.
They were scared. People were moving about as if the floor itself was covered in hot embers. No one wanted to stand still for too long or draw attention to themselves. For the constables standing around in the plaza, it was no different. Every person that passed in front of them was a potential suspect. Every noise they heard was a potential threat.
It was then that nudged Gallego, pointing with her chin upward. Gallego looked up in time to see a drone that was settling in overhead. Its only camera was aimed directly at them, and some primitive-looking sensor cluster began to scan them.
An overlay activated in her visual field, alerting her to the fact that she was once again receiving a higher than normal dose of millimeter-wave radiation. This time around, the focused nature of it was causing her bio monitors to raise their alert level to yellow. Again, Gallego stood there and the let the drone finish. As soon as it was done, the drone flew off like a giant insect looking for new prey.
“We should keep moving,” said Cheboi. “We don’t want to be out in the open for too long. We’ll only draw attention to ourselves.”
Gallego looked towards the nearest officer. “You’re not worried about being picked up by security, are you? We’re expected at the Constabulary as it is.”
“It’s not the constables I’m worried about.” Cheboi’s reply was low and icy. It also made Gallego feel the slightest bit cold. She knew enough not to ask and started walking again. This time, her pace was brisk and hurried, much like the people moving around her.
TWENTY-ONE
THE HOLOREPRESENTATION looked wispy and ethereal in the main hold. To Adler, Emile looked a lot like what the people of Terra had once described as spirits and ghosts. But at the moment, his manner was entirely graceless. In fact, Adler would describe him as being downright fiendish.
Adler stood a few paces away from the proxy Emile had made of himself. As constructs went, it was a prefect representation. It looked precisely as Emile did; or at least, as he did when he had recorded it. Given the time delay between their current position and Lovelock, that would have been not much more than an hour ago.
The real perfection came in its speech, mannerisms and general attitude. Like any proxy, it was a Level III-compatible program, able to mimic the neurological patterns of the user down to the finest detail. In a way, Adler was talking to Emile right now. Aside from the fact that this one was composed of elementary particles and not flesh, the only real difference between Emile and his proxy was that this one was intended to compensate for the effects of general relativity.
“I cannot express how unacceptable this is,” the proxy said. “You and your crew were amply compensated to deal with the assigned targets. To find out that you failed was bad enough. But to learn of this from a man that I consider to be an adversary, that is something short of an embarrassment. It’s a fortunate coincidence for you and your team that you have a chance to rectify this failure by dealing with her once and for all. Your orders remain the same but consider this a warning. Any more failures will result in the termination of our agreement, and of any further business dealings.”
Adler stood with his hands behind his back, like a good soldier, taking a reprimand from a superior officer. There was little else he could do, under the circumstances. His employer was most unhappy, and for good reason. The proxy Emile had sent on ahead, and which Adler was currently talking to, was doing a fine job of capturing that indignation as well.
“Doctor, I can offer some explanations
for this. As I indicated in our report, she was shot on sight in Huygens by the local gendarmes. The medical report filed on her also stated that she was dead on arrival.”
The Emile proxy interrupted with a grand sweep of its arm. Its voice boomed throughout the cabin. “And as I said, that report was falsified! She survived the attack and has since made her way off Titan!”
Adler looked down at his boots and sighed. It was a mistake to repeat something he had already had been told was false, or to suggest that the fault was somehow on Emile’s end. He tried coming at it from a different angle. “Is there any indication how she could have survived?”
“None,” said the Emile proxy. “I didn’t bother to ask Councilor Fionn to elaborate. It will be sometime before our sources on Titan can answer me. Nevertheless, some good has come of this news.”
Adler frowned. “What is -?” He stopped shy of completion. It dawned on him why Emile had taken the time to send a proxy and hadn’t chosen to communicate via time-lagged messages. This latest news and their mission were inextricably linked.
The proxy of Emile must have noticed the look of revelation on Adler’s face. Its next words echoed Adler’s thoughts perfectly.
“Precisely. The Manifesto. She is the author. Which means that by taking her out, you and your crew will have a chance to right this wrong. But of course, finding her is contingent on making sure that the agent and her escort are not killed prematurely.”
“There’s no need to worry about that. We’ve already located them and have been tracking them since.”
“How long ago did they land?”
“Not long,” Adler replied. “We managed to stay under the local authorities’ scanners and we’re preparing to deploy to the surface now. They docked less than an hour ago and would have taken most of that time to disembark and clear security.”
The proxy relaxed marginally. “All right, then I imagine you’ll want to get to it. I trust you’re follow all the usual stealth protocols?”
Adler crossed his arms and smiled broadly. “They won’t see us coming. They won’t see us at all until we want them to.”
The proxy issued a small nod, then disappeared. Adler sighed and looked at the crewman who was standing a few paces away from where the proxy had been. The look on his face suggested he shared Adler’s appreciation of their situation.
“Valencie, send that entire conversation to Lovelock. Then prep the ship for landing. We’ve got a job to do.”
“Right away, boss,” he replied, then moved to the ship’s main terminal. While Valencie busied himself, sending the proxy program and all the data it had accumulated from their conversation back towards Mars, Adler turned to face the rest of his crew.
All had assembled in the main hold when the message had come in. Prior to Adler’s strained conversation with the proxy, they had looked ready to go; damn near elated, in fact. Now, to an individual, they all had the same look of disdain and anger on their faces.
“You heard the man, let’s get to the cargo hold and suit up.”
Before they could move, Desbin raised a hand. “Boss, I got one question. How can we be sure he’s not trying to play us for fools?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I mean, there’s no way that woman survived. We all saw her take three slugs, center mass. She would have bled out before they ever got her to a medic. I’m telling you, this has to be some kind of trick.”
“You mean, maybe he’s looking for a way to weasel out of paying us?”
It was Kovacs saying this. Adler was quick to shut that speculation down.
“Not likely. Besides, he already agreed to the terms I set. I see no reason why he’d lie to us about something like this.”
Adler called up an overlay and accessed his loom. The memory of that day, encoded as it was in the circuitry lining his brain, began to play back for him with crystal clarity. Desbin was correct, of course. The Gendarmes had been quick to act, once Adler and his crew had taken out one of their men. They opened fire on Ward and Amaru, who weren’t more than ten meters away. Several rounds had struck Amaru center mass, sending her to the ground.
She fell on her back, shoulders and skull striking the ground with a dull thud. Ward had been hit in the flanks and chest several times. The force had spun him around about one-hundred and thirty-five degrees, and he fell next to Amaru. Both began to bleed profusely on the ground, forming a collective pool of crimson. Their medimachines must have scrambled to try and seal their wounds, but the damage had been done. Without medical intervention, both would die.
With his last ounces of strength, Ward had climbed on top of Amaru’s body. Adler had thought it somewhat touching, the final act of a man trying to shield the body of his comrade. Perhaps they had been lovers too. It mattered little, much like the gesture. In the end, she was still fatally wounded, and his actions wouldn’t prevent her from dying.
At least, that was what Adler had thought at the time.
The entire process of revisiting the memory had taken barely a nanosecond. Still, Adler felt like they were wasting precious time and forced himself back to the present.
“It’s irrelevant now. Whatever happened in the past, we’re here now. As little as I care for the opinions of that pathetic little bastard, I do care about our unit’s reputation. I know all of you do as well. So, let’s do this right and make sure that no end remains untied.”
Their expressions changed again. While they weren’t entirely relieved by his words, his crew once again looked possessed of some of that original elation. Adler decided to add a few choice words to help them recapture the spirit of ecstasy.
“Besides... there’s the bonus of there being some competition. Whoever these amateurs are, they have no idea what they’re up against. They may have made out easily, fighting unsuspecting Jovian officers. But as of now, they’re up against the best there is, and that’s us. I say we show them how real warriors fight.”
That did it. Adler’s words were met with enthusiastic howls, and the crew began moving rapidly to the cargo hold. His words had even moved him a little. Whoever these new adversaries were, he now looked forward to meeting them.
TWENTY-TWO
THE SCENE PINTER HAD chosen was once again anachronistic, at least by the standards that Houte remembered. They were standing in the middle of a large gate-like structure. Cobblestones lined the road, and on either side of them were iron posts with large chains connecting them. On both sides, the walls separated partway, revealing stairs that appeared to lead to an upper level, possibly outside.
Houte looked around and noticed that the interior walls were covered in names. These appeared to be grouped based on nationality. Some of these Houte recognized from the old days. Others, to the best of his knowledge no longer existed. But the most curious features were the wreaths that were lain on the steps. Red poppies featured prominently on these, and words that were decidedly somber.
“So, tell me again,” Houte said. “Explain to me exactly how my leaving Callisto will ensure my sister’s safety.”
“I understand your resistance to the idea,” Pinter replied. “But as I said. There needs to be someone there to receive the investigators, when they arrive.”
Houte kept his back to Pinter. Somehow, making eye contact felt wrong, as if acknowledging him would imply acquiescence. He kept surveying their surroundings, not that it did him any good. The setting was a recreation of a bygone era, one that only Pinter recognized or understood the significance of.
“Why exactly do we need to venture to Europa anyway? You said they were heading to Ganymede to help with the investigation. Why can’t we just go there, or let them know to come here?”
Pinter’s sandaled feet began to slap against the cobblestones. Without looking, Houte could tell he was pacing, which was what he generally did when he was being contemplative.
“It’s not that simple. The Solar Council, when they investigated the Manifesto, traced it to Europa. As I’m
sure you recall, your sister took pains to hide the source of the release.”
“I remember,” Houte replied.
“The situation on Ganymede is also likely to become untenable before long. People will attempt to take out the investigators, while others will want to ensure they remain alive. We don’t want to get in the way when that’s happening.”
“So, you’ve said.” Houte sounded annoyed now. Even he could hear it, and he hoped Pinter could too. But the man kept prattling on as if he hadn’t noticed. He had indeed explained that a firefight was likely, but he hadn’t shared much in the way of details. Houte was still unclear who it was who had orchestrated the attack on Ganymede, and he was less clear on who was looking to keep the investigative team alive - at least for the time being.
Much like everything else he and Constance had planned together; the nuts and bolts were being withheld. When it came to people who weren’t used to operating on their level, their solution appeared to be to withhold certain details and demand that people trust them.
“If we direct them here, they’ll surely bring whoever is pursuing them with them. That wouldn’t guarantee your sister’s safety either.”
“I understand all that.”
Pinter stopped walking. There was a slight rustling noise. Houte guessed that Pinter was moving closer behind him, his pant legs brushing against each other.
“Then what’s the problem? If we understand each other, why are you hesitant?”
Houte turned around. He couldn’t avoid looking at Pinter now. “I understand, Doctor, but I don’t think you do. It’s not the plan that I object to. It’s leaving my sister in the company of someone else.”
Pinter’s face went blank. Though the man could come across as obtuse and arrogant at times, there were instances when he could be downright innocent. This was one of those times. Uncrossing his arms, he placed his hands together in front of him. When he spoke next, his hands shook in Houte’s direction, almost pleadingly.
The Jovian Manifesto (The Formist Series Book 2) Page 15
