It didn’t take long for her to realize the significance of where they were standing. To the Eblans, this section of the settlement would be considered somewhat posh, given its elevation above most of the settlement. However, Arwad was known for being one of the rougher parts of Ebla. By local standards, then, she and Cheboi were standing in an upwardly-mobile, lower-class district.
It’s good to have social aspirations, Gallego thought. If Clio was making a statement by setting up shop here, it seemed somewhat ambiguous. Then again, perhaps she could simply afford the rent and was a fan of the view.
Looking to Cheboi, she nodded and recommended they get moving. “Let’s start looking,” she said. “One of these things has to be one-one-three.”
“Which way?” said Cheboi, raising her hands in both directions. From where they stood, they were surrounding by identical-looking structures, arranged out on a long, winding path.
Gallego pointed randomly to her left. “This way, and let’s just hope the doors are numbered.”
THE DOORS WERE INDEED numbered. Within a few minutes, they found the one they were looking for. Mercifully, they only needed to double back once.
One-one-three.
They stood staring at the door, neither of them sure how to proceed. Gallego, for her part, was going on faith that whatever lay within would prove to be helpful. Cheboi, on the other hand, was giving Gallego the benefit of the doubt. In short, both were antsy for slightly different reasons but were on the same page when it came to their current situation.
“Okay... I’m going to know?” Gallego asked.
“Alright,” Cheboi replied. “But first, engage your armor. I don’t want to be surprised.”
Gallego didn’t argue. Pulling up an overlay, she gave the order for her armor to deploy. Her body was instantly encased by its skin and new readouts formed in her field of vision. Her own implants adjusted to their presence, deactivating all the filters she had applied in favor of the armor’s own enhancements.
Gallego decided not to select any weapons for the time being. Cheboi, however, erected a barrier with her left arm and selected a wide-discharge DEW with her right. Between the two of them, they were assuming the role of diplomat and enforcer. Or, as the old saying went, “good cop and bad cop”.
Cheboi also used the armor’s sensor suite to scan the domicile’s interior and voked the results to Gallego. They weren’t encouraging. [I got nothing. The interior seems to be shielded.]
[Shielded? How’s that possible?]
[No idea. You wouldn’t think the locals had that kind of technology.]
Gallego exhaled an uneasy breath. After all this, they really had no idea what they were walking into to, not even a helpful hint. But they had come this far on faith alone, walking blindly towards something they couldn’t identify. The only thing left was to take the final step and pray it didn’t lead over a cliff.
[Okay. Here goes.]
Gallego reached out with an armored hand and rapped on the door three times. There was no immediate reply from the other side.
They waited... and waited... and waited.
When she was sure an eternity had passed, Gallego voked to Cheboi. [How long was that?]
[Ten seconds, in real-time. Try to relax.]
Gallego sighed. She knew her suit had sped up her reflexes and reaction time, thus slowing the passage of real time down to a trickle. Eventually, the door began to shift. Gallego and Cheboi braced themselves, as if something terrible were about to break through and attack them. They were therefore both relieved and disappointed when the door opened just a bit and a relatively anxious-looking man peered through the crack at them.
“Are you the Cytherean women?”
Before Gallego could answer, Cheboi moved out of his sight and aimed her weapon at the door. Gallego did her best to keep her manner tactful and neutral, as much as that was possible given that she was heavily armored.
“I’m Veronika Gallego, special counsel to the Cytherean Council. Who are you?”
To her surprise, the man opened the door completely. He didn’t recoil when he saw Cheboi aiming a high-yield energy weapon at him.
“I’m Franklin Houte,” he said. “We’ve been expecting you.”
“We?”
Houte smiled and looked behind him. From within, a woman stepped forward. She didn’t resemble Clio; at least, not in the way Clio had been representing herself so far. But something about the woman seemed oddly familiar. Her complexion, her bone structure and her figure, they all spoke of a common origin. Cytherean, surely, and a face that Gallego had seen in the past.
Gallego disengaged her helmet so she could speak freely. “You... I know you, don’t I?”
“I would imagine.” The woman came to a stop, placing her right hand over her chest. “My name is Janis Amaru. My friend Franklin and I are working with Clio, who will be along shortly. Come inside, I’m sure you have a million questions.”
THIRTY-EIGHT
WHAT FOLLOWED COULD only be described as a very awkward introduction. After entering the house, Gallego and Cheboi were gently urged to take a seat in the structure’s sitting room. Houte and Amaru took seats opposite them, and patiently waited while they tried to formulate questions. It was likely to be a long evening, and they were prepared for that.
The first and most obvious issue was the fact that they were speaking with someone who was the subject of an autopsy report. Cheboi was the one to say it. “We were under the impression you had died on Titan.”
To this, Amaru smiled. “Not exactly, though I was happy not to correct that impression. The truth is, I barely survived, and I had some help.”
“What do you mean?” asked Gallego.
Amaru’s smiled faded. “That’s... something we should circle back to. First and foremost, you need to know why it is you’re here. Why we’re all here. You should know, once we tell you all this, your lives will never be the same. Many people will want to see you dead, and they won’t rest until they’re sure you’ve been silenced permanently.”
Cheboi’s face took on a sardonic look. She directed it first at Gallego, then Amaru. “People have already tried to kill us, ma’am. And we’re almost certain they’ll try again. So, if you think the threat of death is going to stop us now, you’ve got another thing coming. We want answers, and we want them now.”
This response prompted Houte to chuckle. Clearly, their newfound Cytherean friends weren’t entirely faint of heart. Amaru looked encouraged by this as well. She and Houte then shared a look, and Houte raised himself from his seat. Amaru kept talking while he went into the next room, apparently to fetch something.
“Before we begin, there are some other people you need to meet. I know you’ve been in contact with one of them already.”
Gallego perked up. “You mean, Clio?”
“That’s the alias she uses, yes. But that’s not her true name.”
“Who is she?” Gallego demanded.
“All in good time,” said Amaru. Houte handed her a pair of goggles and offered two other sets to Gallego and Cheboi, keeping a pair for himself. “You’ll need to access the secured signal we have established here. Let me just warn you, what you’re about to see and hear is likely to surprise you more than a little.”
Gallego looked at the goggles hesitantly but accepted them all the same.
No turning back now, she thought one last time. This time she meant it. Whereas getting to this place had consisted of one gamble and leap of faith after another, she truly felt like she was at the point of no return now.
The outside world was temporarily blocked out as the goggles, currently inactive, encased her face. The last thing she heard before being drawn in by the immersive experience was Amaru’s cautionary tone.
“Okay... here we go.”
THE TRANSITION WAS a bit disorienting. When wearables were involved, moving from the real world to a simulated one wasn’t so seamless. Still, Gallego quickly became aware of her new surroundings,
and those standing around her. They were standing on a small, grassy mound that was edged by a wall of standing stones. Cheboi was immediately to Gallego’s left, and a clear canopy of stars hung above them.
There was just enough light to make out their surroundings. This was provided by a series of glowing embers that hovered above them. Gallego couldn’t identify what these were, though it was likely they were merely visual aids. They did look insectoid and occasionally moved from one spot to another. Gallego was tempted to pull up an overlay and identify this curious species. However, she shifted her attention to their new arrivals.
To their fore, Amaru and Houte appeared and began advancing towards them. They looked much the same, wearing rugged clothes and showing no apparent enhancements. They stopped about a meter away from Gallego and Cheboi, forming a smaller circle within the standing stones. Houte crossed his arms while Amaru smiled and greeted them.
“I hope you don’t mind the setting. He likes places that remind him of his old haunts. Like just about everything else, it’s a contrivance. But it seems to make him happy.”
Cheboi frowned. “He? There’s someone else coming to this party?”
Amaru hesitated for a second and placed her hands behind her back. “Ah, yes. It seems we have two introductions to make. I’m sorry, we’ve done this so many times lately, I forget that other people need to go through the motions first.”
Gallego was about to ask for an explanation, but her question was immediately answered by the arrival of two more figures. They emerged from behind different standing stones, and advanced on their group. An older man and a younger woman, both of whom were simply dressed and dark of complexion.
Gallego recognized the woman immediately. Though she seemed far less ostentatious than the chariot-riding representation that had guided them on, her natural beauty was unmistakable. “Clio?”
“Yes,” she replied. “I wish we could have met in person, but this is the best I can manage these days. I’m sure you’ll agree, it’s also more effective. “Pointing to her right, she presented the man standing next to her. “And may I introduce Pinter Chandrasekhar? I imagine you’ve heard of him.”
Gallego suppressed a gasp. Cheboi, though made of sterner stuff, also couldn’t help but be dumbstruck by the presence of someone so distinguished. Pinter, however, had no trouble addressing the two of them.
“Greetings. It’s good to make your acquaintance, Veronika Gallego and Adelaide Cheboi.” He even accented his voice to say their names properly. At this point, Gallego couldn’t resist.
“Doctor Chandrasekhar. We were told you had died as well.”
“Hmmm, yes. Another lie told by people who are practiced in such things. However, I can assure you that, like our friend Janis here, I’m very much alive. At least, as much as I have been for some time.” He chuckled softly at this, touching his hands to his stomach. “Much like our surroundings, I exist only in patterns of information and reproduction. I’m effectively a ghost in the machine, and one that’s currently in exile.”
Amaru cleared her throat. “What he means is, he was forced to flee Sarak Lovelock when his grandson attempted to delete him.”
Gallego looked them all over and sighed. They had been promised explanations, but so far, everything just added more questions. Gallego decided that it was time for some blunt demands.
“All right. You people promised us answers. Start talking... from the beginning.”
THIRTY-NINE
A STRAINED SILENCE SET in once their hosts were finished unraveling the story for them. Amaru had done most of the talking, addressing the machinations of Emile Chandrasekhar and his colleagues. She touched on all the salient points: her relationship with Doctor Lee, her decision to betray him, and Lee’s subsequent death.
Things became especially interesting with the introduction of Jeremiah Ward. Gallego and Cheboi paid special attention to this item, as his role in the entire incident had been a major point of confusion. According to Amaru, Emile had hired him to determine the whereabouts of Doctor Lee. But as she went on to explain, the entire mission had been a set-up to flush out Amaru and her co-conspirators. When that happened, everything had hit the fan. The attack on the facility, the shootout in Huygens, and all the unanswered questions that followed.
No one spoke for several seconds as Gallego and Cheboi tried to absorb it all. Once again, their hosts waited patiently for them to process everything. Gallego could only think to offer a bland condolence. “That sounds like quite the ordeal.”
Cheboi was much more direct, asking a rather pointed and relevant question. “So, Ward saved you?”
Amaru’s smile faded. Her next words sounded like they were difficult for her to say. “Yes. In our last moments together, Ward chose to sacrifice himself, so I could live. I can only assume that he wanted me to carry out the desperate plan he had come up with in our final hours together.” She paused to look at Clio, then back to Gallego and Cheboi. “We were both critically wounded, lying on the ground and bleeding severely. My medimachines were doing their best to seal my wounds, but they had been too severe. Ward was in the same situation. But instead letting his body bleed out, he used his last ounce of strength to make a crude transfusion.”
“You may recall from the Gendarmerie report that when they cleared our bodies, they had to remove Ward’s from on top of mine,” Amaru continued. “I’m sure the authorities thought this was a tender gesture on his part, his using his last ounce of strength to embrace me or something. The truth is, he was making sure the nanoware leaking out of his body made it to me. It was a desperate gamble on his part, but before he died, he transferred their control to me. By pressing his wounds to mine, he allowed much of his nanoware to enter my bloodstream. Once it started working with my own, it was enough to seal my wounds and prevent me from bleeding out.”
“But surely, the medics would have noticed. You’d still have had a pulse and brainwaves.”
It was Cheboi offering this. Amaru looked at her and nodded.
“You’re right. Initially, I was reported dead on arrival, I was in such bad shape. But a full scan revealed I was clinging to life. Thanks to the intervention of Julia Finch, the report was never changed. Over the years, she had made allies in every industry and sector on Titan. She called in several favors with the medical techs and made sure the official story indicated that there were no survivors.”
“Of course,” said Gallego. “No survivors, no need for Emile and his cronies to follow up. You would be free to do whatever you had to once you recovered.”
“Precisely. Once the medics stabilized me, Finch had her people transfer me to a private facility, where they watched over me. It took weeks for my body to repair itself. But by the time I was up and about, the universe thought I was dead. I was in no hurry to correct this assumption.”
“I imagine Finch was expecting something in return for all that?”
“She did,” Amaru replied, smiling knowingly. “She wanted revenge for her people. She already knew Emile and the Formists were up to no good. After the attack, she wanted to make sure the few people who could fuck with their plans survived. Once I told her what I wanted to do, she helped me book passage to Callisto. That’s where I met Franklin and Clio.”
Gallego looked back at the siblings. Clio was still beaming happily, while Houte maintained his stony expression. The next few steps in the story were already clear as day to her. Gallego didn’t need to be told that between her, Pinter and Houte, the sleeve’s contents had been decrypted and the information used to draft the Manifesto.
Beyond this, there were a few items she was unclear on. There was the matter of the enigmatic messages Clio had been sending her.
“What you told me before, the last time you reached out to me. You said that this was just the beginning of something new.”
“That’s right. Emile Chandrasekhar and David Lee sought to use the moons of Callisto and Titan for the sake of testing their methods. This wasn’t just some i
solated scheme on their part. In truth, they were correct about a few things. The best way to ensure that Mars can become a lush and verdant landscape someday would be to test the methods they would use ahead of time. Prove to the people concerned that the bugs had been worked out in advance. It was how my contemporaries hoped to sell the people of Earth on ecoengineering in the 21st century. As monstrous as their aims were, their solution had a certain elegance.”
Pinter interrupted by clearing his throat loudly. “Uh, Clio? Perhaps this isn’t the best time to be admiring our enemies’ methods.”
“My apologies,” she replied. “The point is, their attempts were just the beginning. They weren’t even anything new. The idea of using the Outer Worlds was just an adaptation of a much older idea. In my time, people said the same things about Mars and Venus. And even if Emile and his Cytherean counterparts are ultimately thwarted here, more attempts will follow.
“Between the Formists and Illuvians hoping to transform their worlds, the Dysonists trying to create a massive circumstellar swarm, the Gyros looking to build habitats, and the Seedlings looking to convert everything before them, if one or all of these factions don’t strip-mine the outer Solar System for their resources, they’ll try to colonize them anew. Resources or real estate, that’s all the Outer Worlds are to them in the final analysis.”
This prompted Cheboi to interject. “But why publish the Manifesto? Why didn’t you just upload all of Doctor Lee’s files to the Survey? If you had this information, why make any allegations at all? You could have shown the entire System what they were up to.”
Some of the faces in the group began turning to each other. Eventually, Pinter was the one to broach that subject. “A good question,” he said. “And one which raises a matter of certain delicacy.”
The Jovian Manifesto (The Formist Series Book 2) Page 25
