Most of his targets were young men with guns and home-made explosives, but some were average British subjects; ordinary people. But, he knew they were actually part of organized terror groups. Some stole restricted information, some financed attacks, and some smuggled weapons and explosives into the country. As long as those people gave information and support to the extremists, Justin would kill them just as easily as he killed the terrorists themselves, and never give a damn.
The Somers family were no different. Chances are, they provided funds or intel to a terror cell in Britain. They wouldn’t be the first, and they won’t be the last. But as long as Justin had breath in his body, their active support for people like those who took his family would cost them their lives.
*****
Nuthros’ ship, Present Day
Jack Short stood at the viewport, but his eyes barely saw the jaw-dropping view that no human had ever witnessed before. One spiral arm of the Milky Way galaxy swept away into space to the left and right; the system that surrounded the star they called Sol not much bigger than the billions of other stars in the galaxy.
Justin Blake was a name, and a life, he had sworn he would never think about again. Twelve years in the US in a new life saw his past fade into the background, though the nightmares never left him.
Now, the knowledge that his old identity was out in the open brought it all back. He took one step to the left to make room for Ron Baxter, who walked up behind him. No need to hide his abilities now. One was never truly blind, if one was trained well. Reflections from various surfaces, shadows, smells, even a shift in the breeze or a subtle change in the light could indicate another person nearby. Anyone that came near Jack was seen, tracked, and evaluated. It was all second nature to him.
One time, four years ago, he and Mandy were in New York, researching a drug cartel import business that ran their merchandise through the docks. The cartel was tipped off about Jack and Mandy’s intentions. Four thugs were sent to violently demonstrate to Jack why he and Mandy should return to DC. They had followed him into an alley late one night. Three of them ended up in intensive care; the fourth one wasn't so lucky.
Ron took position beside Jack. “I never bought the investigative journalist thing, you know.”
Jack gave a small laugh. “I’m getting rusty, then.”
“Nah, not really,” Ron said. “I always knew you had a combat past. You hide it well, but I’ve been in the game too long to fail to recognize military skills. We came up against them all the time. Lots of ex-military types in the opposition. Some were real tough acts. You’re too young for ‘Nam. Where was it? Iraq? Afghanistan?”
Jack shrugged. “Paras, first. Then I got into the SAS.”
“Ah,” Ron said. “I thought it might be something like that. In that case, I won’t ask where you’ve been.”
“You wouldn’t really want to know, believe me. I was a…problem solver. Except the problems I solved were people.”
Ron nodded. “We had guys that did the same job, I know we did. Sometimes I’d be on a case and word would come down to drop it. Some poor sap in the wrong place, gets to see or hear something he shouldn’t, and next thing he walks in front of a train, or throws himself off a building. I never argued; I didn’t want to end up the same. You guys are on a different level to us field agents.”
“Yeah. Not a higher level, though. I was a cold-blooded killer; the lowest of the low.”
“That is what you were, Jack,” Ron said. “But, from the sound of it, ever since you stopped that life, you’ve protected Mandy. You’re changed. You’ve left that past behind you.”
Jack turned to Ron, his eyes dark and empty. “Not exactly. Five times over the last twelve years, different gangs have put a price on Mandy’s head. She does love to expose drug rings, for some reason.” He turned back to the viewport. “It usually took a few dead bounty hunters to put the word out on the street that she had a guardian angel.” He sighed. “And now Mandy’s been told I killed her parents.” He looked at Ron. “She’ll never let me near her again, will she?”
Ron’s eyebrows shot up. “Good God! You killed Mandy’s parents?”
Jack didn’t reply. The two men stood at the viewport for several minutes before Jack spoke again. “I was used, Ron. They told me my targets were terrorists. Some of them were, I guess. Others were most definitely not. The department abused my trust and made me a murderer of innocent people. I’ll never trust anyone again.”
“You sound like my ex-wife.”
Jack turned to regard the American. “I didn’t know you were married.”
Ron shrugged. “Once; it ended five years ago. Rosie was a damned fine woman, too. Put up with my job like it was nothing at all. Never complained, not once. Always happy with whatever time I could give her. It was a great time for me, the best of times, especially at home.” His brow furrowed. “Until I got sent on an op that required me to pose as another agent’s husband. We had to share a room. Long days, lots of tension, both of us over-tired.” He sighed. “Put in that situation, it was inevitable, I guess. When I got home, I told Rosie immediately.” He turned to Jack. “I’ve done my share of interrogation over the years. Put a lot of pain on a lot of people and never missed a wink of sleep. But I’d never hurt someone like that before. It crushed her to her very soul. I held her while she cried. It was the worst feeling I’ve ever known.”
“Must have been tough,” Jack said.
“Toughest time I’ve ever been through, my friend. Anyway, she asked me to do her one last favor. She said that, if I stayed, every time I went out the front door to work, she’d worry. She could never trust me again. So, she asked me to walk out that door there and then; and never come back.”
“Damn. What’d you do?”
“Exactly what she asked me to do. I figured it was the least I owed her. We stayed in touch, had the occasional coffee together. She remarried in the end; nice guy, desk jockey in a finance company. But, she told me once, she’d never trust him, not completely.” He drew a deep sigh. “Not like she’d trusted me.”
Jack peered closely at Ron. “Why are you telling me all this?”
Ron put a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Rosie trusted me completely, and I drove a truck through that trust. She will never put faith in anyone like that again. But, she married another guy anyway, and she’ll do the best she can. These guys need you, Jack. They have faith in you to do the best you can. Surely you can see they’re not like the people you used to work for. Maybe you never will trust them completely, but perhaps you don’t need to, to get the job done.”
Ron patted Jack’s shoulder and walked across the viewport deck. He wandered off up a hallway, his mind lost in the past. Jack watched him go and shook his head. He turned his gaze back to the breathtaking view outside. It didn’t cheer him up at all.
*****
Granfield & Porter press conference, New York City
Carter Granfield stepped up to the dais amid camera lights and flashes. He set his notes up and smiled into the lenses. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m proud to announce that Granfield and Porter have completed prototype testing of a new data transfer system that will change the way we see computers today.” He held a small machined steel cube aloft. “I proudly present the G&P Quantum Transit Cube, or Cutie Cube, as our lab boys call it. This little device offers an exponential increase in the speed at which data can be transferred, both from one computer component to another, and also between computers. In other words, this device will usher in a new information age; the Quantum Internet Network.”
He held the device out for the cameras. “Like so many other researchers around the world, we here at G&P have been dedicated to the development of quantum computing for quite some time. But, just like everyone else, we have had no luck in getting this technology much past the theoretical state; until now. Naturally, the details of this device will remain our secret, but what this machine can do, I am happy to tell you all about, right now.”
He turned and nodded to an assistant behind him, and a projector screen lowered down. The first slide showed a standard cable. “This, as everyone knows, is our current technological standard; the fiber-optic cable. It’s capable of some impressive transfer rates. Indeed, a 12 core fiber cable can transfer information over 50 kilometers at a rate of over 1 petabyte, or 1,000 terabytes, per second.” He smiled. “Not too bad, you might think.” The next slide showed two QTC units. “However, these little babies can transfer information at a speed so high it will blow your mind. How fast, you may ask? Well, that depends. If we use our current fiber-optic cables, you’re looking at about 100 times as fast as the best available today.” He waited for the murmurs to subside. “However, if you factor in the use of a network of quantum repeaters, then we are simply not able to calculate the speed increase accurately at this time. Suffice it to say, we are looking at speeds so fast as to change the way we do everything on this planet.”
He held up both hands. “Let’s not forget, though, the ability to transfer information inside a single machine. We are in discussion with several companies to incorporate the QTC into personal computers. No hard figures are available as yet, but our researchers have assured us, once a PC is fitted with QTCs, it’s transfer rates will far exceed the demands of the fastest processors available.”
He waited once more for the hubbub to die down. “I will leave it to you to figure out just how this little Cutie Cube is going to change our world, thank you.”
6
Kareetha
Asdrin sat in a small room in the council hall and watched the Granfield & Porter press conference. After it finished, he got up and stood at the viewport. He watched the sailboats speed across the lake far below, and sincerely wished he was on one right now. Their society had been this way for thousands of years, now. Peaceful, happy, prosperous and filled with a love of life. They had looked forward to the discovery of the planet of their origin as the next step forward to an even brighter future. And, now they had found that planet? He laughed to himself. Now, they were to face the toughest challenge they had ever encountered.
He sighed. “Too fast; it’s all too fast. Humanity is not ready for any of this. Their inventiveness will produce monsters of their own creation that will devour them. They already have too many of their people disconnected from each other by computers and their so called ‘Social Media’; they are devolving socially. What does Kestil hope to achieve?”
“The AI he has made is currently only a digital creation. It lives inside the human’s global network.” the Entity replied. “However, the most logical step forward is to install a quantum-level hardware system and transfer it to the quantum state. Once that is done, it will be able to reach anywhere on the Earth completely undetected; their digital machines will never see it. It will grow in power exponentially.”
“Agreed,” Asdrin said. “It will have complete control over the entire planet and its people. Our operatives will be in constant danger of detection, and without your aid from space. I am not so sure it is practical to send them anymore.”
“They will be at risk, that is true,” the Entity acknowledged. “However, I still calculate a 34.7% chance of their survival. I believe that Jack Short will agree to assist, eventually, and that will improve those chances by quite a margin. We must try, Asdrin.”
“But, it is not us at risk, is it? These humans have no real knowledge of what they will face, and that seems unfair, to me.”
“I have spoken to them about this; they know the chances of success are slim. Their attitude is that if they do not try to help, their planet is lost to a fate they cannot agree with. Humanity has a deeply ingrained sense of justice, despite what their history shows. While much wrong adorns their past, there are many stories of courage, too. The biggest problem is that the better people among them are not in positions of power; those places are occupied by the very worst of their society. Indeed, the qualities required in a person to acquire political office are the very antithesis of the attributes needed to be a good leader. The situation is now so bad that no decent person in their right mind would ever want to be a leader. This state of affairs continues to be exacerbated by their refusal, indeed inability, to reform. Ironically, Kestil’s aim of global unity will improve this, even if it is done against their will.”
Asdrin shook his head. “Three generations worth of technology in a few months; does he not realize what this will do to them? Plus, they are now only months away from their first FTL flight.”
“We cannot prevent much, if any, of that, Asdrin. We can only hope to subvert the Earth’s current direction enough to thwart their integration into the Independent Worlds. Kestil’s gifts of technology may actually aid us in this; he is making humanity more powerful. He may not realize that, yet. It might work out to our advantage in the long run, if we can help them stave off the worst of the political, economic and social disasters that will engulf them in the meantime.”
Asdrin nodded absently, still watching the boats. “I hope you’re right.”
*****
Global News Update
“…Vincent Technologies shocked the space exploration community today with the revelation that they have been building a spacecraft capable of travelling at a speed in excess of the speed of light for the last eight months. The ship is scheduled for a test flight sometime around August this year. Vincent have refused to comment on any technical specifications, raising the ire of many who feel that the secretive company has too much of a stranglehold on the technology sector of the market already. Regardless of the feelings of some, Vincent stock climbed to a new peak today on the back of this announcement. Some sources question the validity of the claims, saying that this is just a cheap stunt to artificially increase the stock price. When asked about this, CEO Donald Vincent replied, ‘Ask me again in August’. The announcement has alarmed the anti-globalism movement, who say it’s proof positive of Vincent’s involvement with one of the two intergalactic societies we now know about. Opinion is divided as to which one of those societies is supplying Vincent with alien technology, but the majority favor the idea that the Independent Worlds is responsible.”
*****
Kestil’s base
Kestil shook John Crabtree’s hand. “You’re in the best hands in the known universe, John. You will return to me a different man; able to raise your head in public once more. We are at a crossroads, now. Nuthros and his damned AI no longer dog our every move, and even when they return they can do little but watch as we prepare your people to become a part of the Independent Worlds.”
John smiled. “I can’t say I’ll miss this face, to be honest. And it will feel really good to walk around in public again.”
“It must be so, John, for the sake of the days to come. We will face some stiff resistance from the world’s governments. However, it must come to pass that the Earth is united. It will take a long time, but we need to begin soon. We cannot afford to give The Sixteen Galaxies time to disrupt our operations again.”
John frowned. “I thought you just said they could only watch.”
Kestil gave him a rueful smile. “They are advanced, and very powerful, John. Given enough time, they could thwart us, there is little doubt. However, I do not intend to grant them that time. Now, give my regards to Prestern, and good fortune to you until you return.”
John bowed to his leader, and promptly disappeared. Kestil turned to Barney Cantock, who eyed him warily. “I shall entrust this place to you, Barney, until I return from the TV studio.”
Barney gave the alien a long look, and then nodded. He kept his silence until Kestil disappeared. He then went to the rifle rack in the main common area. Barney nodded to the young man who stood guard over the weapons. “I’m gonna scout the perimeter, let me know if anything happens.”
The younger man gave him a salute. Barney grabbed his M1A and headed for the ladder.
*****
Chicago, Illinois, 2005
Justin found
out which cleaning contractor Peter Somers’ newspaper used, and fabricated the necessary cover to justify his presence in Peter’s office at 3am. The security in the building was fairly loose, but it seemed every floor had people in it. Justin guessed a newspaper office like this one never really sleeps.
He pushed a trolley loaded with cleaning equipment out of the elevator and onto floor 6. Justin had dyed his hair and eyebrows jet black, and used makeup to give his face a tan. Peter Somers’ office was easy to locate, first on the right. He glanced briefly at the security camera mounted in the corner of the office and cursed. It pointed straight at Peter Somers’ desk. He knew the security station was on the ground floor, so he would have just a few minutes to get what he needed before a guard arrived. He grabbed a cloth and started to wipe down surfaces. He slowly made his way out of camera shot, before he placed a little transmitter on the desk below the camera. He pressed a button on the transmitter. He pulled off his cleaner’s rubber gloves and put on a pair of thick surgical gloves. He then went over and closed the office door.
It only took Justin four attempts to hit the correct password for the target’s computer; Mandy’s name plus her birth-date. He went to the diary and grabbed some screenshots, and decided to trawl the computer’s emails while he was at it. He found nothing to indicate a trip away any time soon. He was just about to shut the emails down when a name caught his eye; Symondson Energy.
Justin knew that name well. He'd done some work in Nigeria, once. Elimination of local gangs who often attacked convoys of trucks that belonged to British companies. Symondson Energy was the main British operator in the region where he’d worked. He shrugged, probably a coincidence, he thought. He had the mouse pointer on the shutdown button, but hesitated. What would an American investigative reporter want with a British energy company? Driven by curiosity, he did a search for Symondson on the hard drive. The email he’d seen popped up, along with three other emails in which the company was mentioned. Underneath those was a text document.
The Independent Worlds (The Sixteen Galaxies Book 2) Page 6
