by S A Asthana
“General Smith.” The mechanical voice shook Alice from her memory. She sniffed a few times and cleared her throat.
“Yes, Cube?” She turned to face the seven-foot tall robot.
“It is here.”
A water hauler spacecraft, white, rectangular and bulky, loomed large several hundred yards in the distance. It hovered close to Port Sydney’s left side where a sizable burn mark was splayed down the structure. It spread over the white wall to where large vents lined the bottom.
“Let’s make sure the systems within the wall get cooled quickly.” Alice eyed the blotch. “I don’t want the High Council overheating. And make sure those vents remain dirt-free.”
Cube nodded, communicating to the ship via an internal audio unit. Its head tilted as it often did when giving instructions. In response, the spacecraft lowered and a sleek tube slipped out its nose. The end connected to an outlet along the colony’s wall, and a loud hum reverberated. Water was delivered directly into the cooling systems’ piping. The High Council functioned as a result of the quantum computer that was Port Sydney. The entire complex required water to cool because of the massive amounts of heat produced from its processors every second. Without this crucial resource, the colony and all its computing would fry and come to a standstill.
“The only mark the Nipponese were able to leave,” Alice said as she surveyed the burn. “Marginal damage for us. A pity how much they underestimated us.” She turned back to the sprawling landscape. “And what about their debris? The Kamikazes, the mechs?
“They are being collected,” Cube answered in a monotone. “We will salvage whatever we can and discard what we don’t need.”
“Perfect. Let’s get the salvageable items into our manufacturing floor so they can be recycled. I’m sure their materials can be applied to our spacecraft.”
The motionless body of a blue mobile suit lay not too far from them, its limbs covered in Martian dust. It appeared pathetic despite the size. A line of Martian soldiers, all outfitted in surface suits, trailed from it with Captain Walsh in front. Filing over to Alice, he said, “That one had some fight in it.”
“Yes, but you had more,” Alice lauded. “Your command of the 1.V10 is remarkable.”
He bowed playfully. “I aim to please.”
“In fact, both of you performed well today,” Alice said.
“Thank you,” Cube said. “I too aim to please.” The robot bowed as well and a few of its joints screeched like sirens.
Ignoring the awkward display, Alice switched her helmet’s communication to group chat and continued. “Gather around, everyone.” The soldiers, a cluster of twenty, encircled her. “Today we have showed the Nipponese what we’re made of.”
A hurrah rang through the communication units.
“And they will think twice about attacking us again.” Another celebratory roar left the group, this one louder than the last. “I am promoting Captain Walsh to the rank of Lieutenant General.”
“Hurr—” Gasps cut the jubilation. Such a promotion was unheard of – there were five positions separating the two posts, after all.
“Wait, what? B-but how is this acceptable?” a woman spoke from the crowd. “As one of your Major Generals, hand-picked by General Crone himself, I should have been considered for this post.”
“As should I,” another major general piped up. Faces scowled inside helmets. Glares seared Alice.
“You both were considered, Major Peterson and Major Jackman, but you both couldn’t cut it.” Alice was ice. “Andrew Walsh is more capable.”
It was no secret that Alice admired the captain, not just because of his martial capabilities, but also because he had never once held her origins against her.
“Based on what?” Major Peterson said, her voice shrill with incredulity. “Because Walsh can fly a spaceship? So, can I.”
“I can, too,” the other major boomed.
Major Peterson spat in a sharp Sydneysider twang. “Or maybe Walsh is a kiss-ass and doesn’t question the new general’s intentions. Maybe he doesn’t realize what a freak—”
Alice drew a weapon and shot her with a sharpened swiftness. The group shook like a ruffled bush as the major’s body collapsed, her surface suit’s chest plate sizzling around a bullet hole.
“You want to say something more?” Alice pointed her pistol at Major Jackman. He shuddered like a wet dog. She moved the gun from soldier to soldier. “Anyone else want to call me a freak? A Frankenstein monster, perhaps?”
Eyes fell to the orange dirt. Timid glances were shot at the corpse. Not a word was spoken.
“With the exception of Lieutenant General Walsh and Cube, everyone else is dismissed.” Alice stowed away her pistol. She seemed taller than her six-foot stature, somehow. The crowd marched away in silence, their shoulders drooped despite their surface suits’ rigidity. Alice sneered to herself – there was a new sheriff in town, and she wasn’t about to take anyone’s shit lying down.
Switching her communication channel back to Walsh and Cube, she said, “Well, that was unfortunate.”
Walsh kept mum. He blinked blankly at the dead body.
Alice rested her hands on his broad shoulders. “I am confident that you can do this.” He was older than her by a few years, but there was a naiveté in his face. It would soon erode as the pressures of the new post kicked in. It had to. “Now, say it with me – for the High Council.”
He echoed with a parched mouth, “For the High Council.”
As she turned her attention to Cube, he added, “I-I do appreciate this opportunity very much, general.”
“Good,” she noted with a smile. “You will not let me down, I’m sure of it.” Taking a deep breath, she continued, “Now, we should strike back at the Nipponese before they can recover from their defeat.”
Heads nodded in agreement.
“We need to be swift.” Alice paced back and forth, her stare lost on the horizon. The water cargo hauler whirred in the background like the gears in her mind. “Nippon One has two weak points – do either of you know them?
“Its glass dome,” Walsh answered.
“Its oxygen and gravity plates,” Cube said. “Both can be breached with enough effort.”
“That’s correct. The dome can be shattered if pummeled with the right amount of firepower, although the Sony Defense Satellite System would need to be neutralized first. That’s no easy task.”
She looked out over the horizon. “In the case of the plates, they can be hacked and shut off, denying the colony of its supply of oxygen and gravity. A devastating blow by every measure, but that is no easy task either. The security protocols are surely some of the toughest in the Solar System.”
“But both options mean certain death for every Nipponese,” Walsh interjected, his black eyes glinting with sympathy. “Shutting off those plates triggers an obvious massacre, but so does blasting a hole in their dome – oxygen will be sucked out. Everyone will suffocate. Is that our aim?”
Alice shook her head. “No. Their capitulation is our aim. And to achieve that, we would need to ensure the Nipponese feel the real danger of one of those two weaknesses being breached. See what I mean?”
“So we aim for fear only?” Walsh facial muscles loosened. He was still green behind the ears, a shortcoming that would soon have to be erased. A rookie. The demands of his new role called for a spine. It had taken some time but she’d grown one when a Lieutenant General herself, after all.
“Yes, fear,” Alice said and slammed a fist into her left hand, doing her best impression of General Crone. “Once they see our technical might, they will surrender. I am sure of this.”
“How will they see that, though, without actually dying?” Walsh asked. “Shutting off the oxygen and gravity plates even for a moment could cause structural damage to their buildings, which would surely result in countless deaths.”
Alice searched the ground as if for answers. “That is worth considering. Perhaps making them fearful of an atta
ck on their beloved dome is a better option, after all. Hacking the defense satellites is worth the effort and possibly easier – the plates would require too much work, anyway. Of course, I myself would need to conduct due diligence in order to figure out how exactly to hack in. Their underlying code cannot be any more complex than the High Council’s. But while I do that, we need a way to keep Nippon One distracted so they aren’t preparing to attack again. The question is… how?”
“Perhaps our local asset can be of assistance,” Cube said.
“Local asset?”
“Yes. We have one in Nippon One, trained to carry out clandestine operations when required.”
“How come I didn’t know about this asset?”
“It was a secret program put together by the intelligence committee two years back,” Cube reported, as if reading instructions from a 1.V10 manual. “It was never fully staffed because the committee was disbanded, after the High Council came into power and made them redundant.”
“Yes, I remember the restructuring.” Alice nodded with hands on her hips.
“An asset had been secured in Nippon One just prior to that change – a capable individual who’d been bought.”
“Who?”
Cube shook its head. “I do not know. There’s a code name that can be contacted via a discrete com channel. Although, since the asset has never been utilized before, it is debatable if the human is still operational.”
Alice mulled over the response. She then asked, “How are you privy to all this? Did Crone know about the asset?”
“Crone did not know. He never asked, so I never mentioned it.” Cube tilted its head. “I know because the High Council shared this information with me. They were aware of the program – they are aware of every program ever run or currently running in Port Sydney.”
Alice took a deep breath. The information was disconcerting. The High Council was in the know about certain pockets of knowledge and had chosen to share it with only a select few – perhaps their way of ensuring no one else understood as much as them in Port Sydney? Was it bothersome that Cube, a sentient automaton, had been kept in the loop, but not Frank, the highest ranking human in Port Sydney? Yes, it spoke volumes about the situation.
“Let’s contact this individual right away,” she said. “We could use the help. Inform him or her to unleash terrorist operations.”
Cube nodded. Just as it swiveled to head back to Port Sydney, Alice asked, “Is there anything else you’re privy to that I, as your General, should be aware of as well?”
Without missing a beat or turning back around, Cube said, “No.” It marched away, its heavy feet kicking up clouds of dust. There was something odd about the response. A spark of paranoia seared Alice’s chest – was this how Crone had felt in relation to the High Council? Siloed and in the dark. Was this why he’d chosen to keep secrets from the council as well?
“Mindy here.” The High Council’s executive assistant bot blared in her headset. “Lieutenant General, the High Council would like a word with you.”
Alice nodded. The superiors required a report of the battle. It would be an easy and straightforward conversation, she hoped.
The High Council loomed large at three meters each, their appearance very much in line with Alice’s profile. A family of blonde hair, brown eyes and creamy, white skin. A family that Alice had never belonged to before. She beamed in their holographic glow. Concerns regarding missing information and secret programs melted away. There was only love and a sense of fitting in.
“For the High Council,” Alice bowed deep. “We have annihilated the Nipponese fleet. Every single threat they sent into our atmosphere has been neutralized.” She beamed a proud smile. Her first test as General had been passed with flying colors. “And now, we are working on a response, one that will bring them to their knees and force their capitulation.”
“Call off any further attacks,” Mother boomed, her usual singsong voice absent, replaced by a more authoritative tone. Her eyes were different today. There was a subtle green hue to their usual auburn.
Stunned by the directive, Alice blinked and stammered, “I-I don’t understand.”
“War will only ensure mutual destruction,” Mother said.
A complete turnaround in approach. Alice swallowed hard and asked, “May I ask why the sudden change?” It was difficult to digest such a shift in direction.
“We do not think war is—”
“You do not think war is a good path forward,” Father cut in. His translucent face scowled. “The rest of us still think war is the best course of action.”
The third council member, the child – Alice’s younger brother – sneered and piped up. “Yes, you are not in agreement with us.” Were his eyes radiating a sinister red? Or was that simply Alice’s imagination?
The rules were clear. All three members had to align on a decision for it to be an executable command. A directive was null and void even if one member diverged.
“Let’s not fight.” Alice cracked a warm smile in an obvious attempt to mediate the situation. “Families don’t fight. They only love one another. I’m sure there’s a reasonable way to—”
“You are making a mistake,” Father roared at Mother. His hologram vanished in a huff. So did the son’s. Mother remained, her stare weighing down on Alice.
“No more war.” Her words were boulders. Gone was the loving verbal embrace of a mother. Instead, the purveyor of edicts had returned.
“But, mum—”
“No war.” Mother too vanished. The glowing blue eggs turned dark. Only silence remained along with the briefing room’s oppressive heat. A bead of sweat trailed down the side of her face. There were so many questions. What was the next course of action? Should the effort to terrorize Nippon One be called off? And when was the last time she’d perspired?
The air felt thick and it held her in place. Perhaps diplomacy was the correct answer, after all. No war meant time to focus on Port Sydney’s development. The colony’s quality of life had declined in the past several years. With no war, the Sydneysiders could focus on self-improvement. Maybe mother was right in her disagreement with the other two members.
“General.” A monotone disrupted her earpiece, along with some static.
“Yes, Cube – what is it?” Alice’s nose crinkled.
“We have tracked a fleet of pirates headed to the colony. They will be within the Martian atmosphere in an hour.”
Shit. Another attack. Were the pirates still incensed over New Paris’ destruction? Or were they sent by the Nipponese, coaxed and prodded along by Nippon’s new leader? So much for diplomacy.
“Engage them. Take the 1.V9s.”
No Mum, the war is far from over.
CHAPTER 8: BASTIEN
The simulated Parisian sewer tunnels crisscrossed all about, their virtual cool air laced with the aroma of honey. New Paris in its digital form was a place of such comforts. Bastien trekked the West arrondissements municipaux, glancing left to right – was Belle here? She didn’t seem to be. Where there had once been a slum littered with dirty, tattered tents and rusted, metal shacks, now there were silk-curtain draped gazebos and pergolas, each serving as home to a family. There were no orphans here, nor prostitutes – no, this was a place where beautiful memories could be made. Digital, but still beautiful. No one here realized they existed within a simulation. Their smiles were wide. Ignorance was bliss.
“Bonjour!” a passerby greeted with her baby in tow.
“Bonjour, madam,” Bastien greeted back, his Française on full display. His French origins didn’t embarrass him any longer. It was strange how the destruction of a city that was deemed shameful could make one realize what it had been all along – a blessing. Ten years spent on Mars trying to erase that history seemed a nonsensical effort now. How could he have shunned the connection to his past? Father Paul and the orphans were the family of his youth. Fleeing from their memory had been senseless. There was no humiliation in being a New Pari
sian citizen, only in running from it. Bastien sighed.
“Avez-vous vu la reine?” He asked a child whether she’d seen their Queen.
“Oui.” She pointed to the far end of the brick-laden path where a group of children spun on a merry go around. Their laughter warmed the sprawling chamber that once hosted drug-addicts and corpses.
Brushing past cheerful Parisians, Bastien made it to the scene. Belle stood nearby with a group of men and women. Their discussion centered on the betterment of the city. She was regal – her hair long, natural blonde locks on display, and her white summer dress simple and angelic. Belle Dubois was a Queen in every way.
Spotting him, she strolled over, head held high. “Bas, nice to see you again.” She smiled and his heart hastened. God, she’s beautiful.
“You’ve created something wonderful here,” he said, reciprocating her warmth.
“Walk with me.” Belle moved past him. The scenery along with its hubbub pixelated into a dimly lit tunnel.
“Where… where are we?” Bastien nearly lost his footing. He hastened his pace to match hers. A narrow, steel door came into view along the brick wall. Bastien took a deep breath – the door was familiar. It was the location from where the hack into High Council stemmed. “Did they put up a fight?” he asked, eyes glued to the padlock.
Belle nodded. “It was to be expected. Mother is intelligent – very intelligent.”
“But your processing powers are no less.”
“Correct, Bas. No less, indeed.”
“So, the war is over?” He was a student learning from his teacher.
“For now.” Her eyes were cast to the concrete floor. “All three members have to be aligned in order for a decision to move forward. Since Mother is not in line with the other two, they cannot command their human subjects to battle.”
Bastien nodded. But a worry prodded in the back of his mind. “Will Alice listen?”
Belle smiled. “She is submissive to them. A child wanting to please her parents.” Pausing, she tilted her head in a manner seemingly mechanical, somehow. “I am more concerned about the other council members.”
