The Mercury Rebellion: A Science Fiction Thriller (The Solarian War Saga Book 3)

by Felix R. Savage

  A maidbot appeared in response to Rensselaer’s summons and operated the coffee grinder. A marvellous aroma filled the kitchen.

  “The PLAN intends to destroy humanity,” Rensselaer said. “That is not news. Cheers.”

  Dr. Seth accepted a demitasse of freshly brewed Idaho coffee and inhaled its steam in delight. “It may not be news, but it is debatable. It has been pointed out that if they mean to destroy us, they’re not trying very hard, given the tactical edge their stealth technology provides, and the vast resources of Mars. I believe that their activities add up to a coherent strategy. They don’t want to destroy us physically. They want to destroy what makes us human.”

  “That’s what I meant. I agree with you, Seth. So do van Gaal and Bankasuprapa.” Rensselaer named two of their confreres, the regional managers for Centiless and GESiemens. “From this distance, we have a clear view of the changes they are forcing on Earth. Slowly but surely they are pushing us into a fearful, defensive posture. By targeting purebloods, they intend to make us turn on our own. We responded laudably in the beginning, by denying the differences among us …”

  “But the cracks are starting to show,” Seth finished. “Witness UNVRP’s decision to remove our pureblooded staff from Mercury in the name of safety.” He spat the last word with contempt.

  “That wasn’t your decision?”

  “Pope’s. To be fair, the man had not a notion of retreating in the face of the PLAN. He was the greatest pragmatist I have ever known. It would be cheaper to automate the Phase Five ramp? Let’s do it! His gaze was fixed on Venus, and beyond that, the stars. But the idea of evacuating our people got taken up at the highest levels. The personhood faction seized on it as a stalking horse for their own cause. Safety first! It is in danger of becoming UN-wide policy.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “I am. And meanwhile, Mercury still lacks a PORMSnet of its own, which would remove the argument for evicting my people.”

  “One could be forgiven for thinking you were in this for the colonization of Mercury, not Venus,” Rensselaer said with amusement.

  “I have come to believe that both are equally possible and desirable. Yes, I admit it, I’ve been talking to Doug. He’s a crypto-nationalist—”

  “In addition to his other, ahem, issues—”

  “But he’s also a paraterraforming expert. And, Kip, sometimes it takes a foilhat to point out the obvious.”

  “The PLAN has never attacked Mercury,” Rensselaer said, pointing out the obvious in his turn. A timer rang. He rose and sprinkled food into a fish tank. Slender silver branzino crowded to the surface.

  “There’s always a first time. We need a PORMSnet to defend the planet. And beyond that, Kip …”

  “Uh oh. I see a Doug-ish gleam in your eye.”

  “This idea is entirely my own. Kip, if we were a sovereign state—just listen—we could turn over a portion of our capacity to weapons production. A fleet of ships piloted by MIs, officered by a small corps of humans. We would hurl them at Mars in numbers sufficient to overwhelm the PLAN’s planetary defenses. The—”

  “Been tried,” Rensselaer said, moving on to the next tank. This one teemed with shrimp.

  “Not on the scale I envision. The scale we could achieve here, with Mercury’s resources.”

  “Have you been tested for dementia recently, Ulysses?”

  “It’s one hundred percent doable! But the resources that must be devoted to the effort simply aren’t on offer. It will take a planet. Earth is complacent, shortsighted. They won’t even admit that we’re at war. Someone has to lead the pushback. Kip, it has to be us. There is no one else. We must at least try!”

  “No.”

  Rensselaer removed the dust cover from a third tank. A toy boat lay sunk at the bottom. Presumably it belonged to the mineralogist’s daughter, the only child in this facility. Rensselaer rolled back his sleeve and tenderly fished it out.

  “Please,” Dr. Seth said.

  “Go bother someone else, Ulysses. Never was a man so misnamed. All he wanted to do was go home.”

  “So do I,” Dr. Seth said. “But the home I left isn’t there anymore. The police paintball you for speeding. Orbital gun platforms blow up black tech labs without regard for casualties. Conflict abroad begets repression at home, ad hoc, ad infinitum. We have to set a new example, to re-infect the peoples of Earth with courage, faith, and hope.”

  “You’re worse than Doug,” Rensselaer said. “He only wants to resurrect the United States of America.”

  A new flash of color appeared at the edge of the viewport screen. The Danggood Universal fab’s slow westward journey had brought it level with another banner. VOTE FOR HASSELBLATTER! MOAR ART. This one had a picture of a robot bison on it.

  “You do know,” said Rensselaer, “that Dr. Hasselblatter is President Hsiao’s own ringer. She parachuted him into this campaign purposely to stop some lunatic, like you, from walking off with the directorship.”

  “You aren’t going to tell me the President came up with those robot bison.”

  “No, that seems to have been Hasselblatter’s own idea. I don’t think anyone expected his campaign to take off like this. The President must be delighted.”

  “Look at that,” Dr. Seth cried.

  A little farther along hung another banner. This one was splarted crooked, so that a ripple in the cheaply printed fabric warped its message. Yet it could be still be read.

  VOTE FOR ANGELICA LIN. GET JUSTICE.

  Rensselaer laughed until he cried. “They’re all at it. Monkey see, monkey do. We are what we are, Ulysses.”

  “I feel rather sorry for her,” Dr. Seth sighed. “She must have planned to run on Charlie Pope’s record. Then she found out that we all loathed him. Now she’s having to come up with some actual principles.”

  “Justice isn’t a bad start.”

  Kip Rensselaer, BS, MA, Ph.D., regional CEO of Danggood Universal, Inc., surveyed the limp vegetables and pouches of condiments laid out on the kitchen counter.

  “I think it may be my turn to cook supper,” he said with dawning gladness. “Ulysses, will you be staying?”

  “No,” Dr. Seth said. He had spent too long here already. As Rensselaer had warned him up front, it had been a wasted trip. And at his age, time was a precious commodity.

  From the privacy of his Flyingsaucer, he sent an encrypted email.

  “The election is as good as lost. Our allies are weak reeds. You are our only hope.”

  xiv.

  Elfrida logged out. The children lay twitching on couches around her.

  She had promised them that she would take care of the competition.

  She took off her headset and gloves, and stood up, rotating her stiff shoulders.

  The telepresence center had started life as a tourist attraction, where the idle rich of 100 years ago could stroll on the surface of Mercury in then-cutting-edge phavatars. Ragged posters showed the creepy, not-quite-humanoid phavatars they had used. Elfrida walked between rows of modern couches jammed into a turn-of-the-century womb. Her hair felt sticky with the oil from other people’s heads, and her heart felt like someone was stabbing it with manicured fingernails.

  She stopped in front of two young men sprawling on neighboring couches. Their spaceborn legs spilled off the ends. This had to be them. If they were full-time miners, they’d have brought footrests.

  She bent and pulled one of their headsets off.

  Interplanetary regulations forbade interrupting an operator during a telepresence session. It could cause physical and mental disorientation. But the two phavatars they encountered on the scarp had refused to talk to them. Hadn’t even identified their operators, which regulations also forbade. So Elfrida felt justified.

  “Hey. You tried to interfere with our legitimate campaigning activities,” she said to the pimply young face she uncovered. “That was totally out of line. And you copied our idea. Who hired you to do that?”

  She knew alr
eady. Didn’t want it to be true. Had to ask.

  The youth stared up at her, his eyes wide and wild. Then he let out a roar, exploded off his couch, and punched her in the nose.

  ★

  “Oh my dog! Baby! What happened?”

  Cydney rushed out of the radial corridor leading to the VIP suites. Elfrida stood in the foyer, holding a wad of gauze to her nose. A medibot had sprayed congealant into her nostrils to stop the bleeding, and given her a painkiller, but she could feel her nose puffing up like a snack cracker in the microwave.

  “Had a heeling I’d hind ‘ou here,” she said.

  “What happened to your nose?”

  “Yo’ went-a-t’ug punched m’.” Cydney frowned, unable to make out what she was saying. Elfrida articulated harder. “I asked him who hired him to mess with our banner campaign. And he punched me. But he didn’t mean to. He was disoriented. And he was really apologetic afterwards. And he told me that you hired him and his friend to copy our banner campaign, and take down our banners, too.”

  “What a liar!” Cydney squealed. “I never said to take down your banners!”

  She covered her mouth, realizing what she had said.

  Elfrida glanced at the campaign staffers and private security types cluttering the foyer. She caught some of them staring. Whatever. Let them see, let them hear what she had to say.

  “I told you about the banner campaign, Cyds. I asked your advice on fonts. I didn’t know you were going to steal the idea.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Someone told Angelica Lin about it. Someone’s been spending a lot of time up here. And now I know why.”

  “Would you believe, for the hot showers?” Cydney said with a sickly smile.

  “She declared her candidacy a couple of days ago. You had the scoop. I didn’t put two and two together at the time, but now I understand. You’re helping her with her campaign. Aren’t you?”

  “Yes. I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d think I was competing with you, but I just—”

  “You can be really self-destructive, Cyds. This is at least the second time you’ve fucked up your own career.”

  Angelica Lin came into the foyer, her hair down, wearing a loose black pantsuit. “Oh, dog,” she said, catching sight of Elfrida’s face. “You’re bleeding! Sit down.”

  “I don’t stand with my nose,” Elfrida said childishly, but she sat down on a red velvet hassock that had been magically vacated.

  Angelica Lin sat down on the sofa opposite her. Cydney sat beside her. Elfrida realized that Lin’s pantsuit was actually pyjamas.

  And suddenly she knew the truth.

  It felt like a deluge of cold water had submerged her, stealing her breath, quenching her righteous anger. When she was capable of speaking without screaming, she said, “Let’s go home, Cyds.”

  Unbelievably, Cydney shook her head. “I’ve got a lot of stuff to do. You should go home and get some rest.”

  “It’s three o’clock in the afternoon. Which makes it weird that she’s wearing pyjamas.”

  “They’re comfortable,” Lin said. “Laugh.”

  “Laugh. Fucking har-dee-har-dee-haw.”

  “I am sorry,” Lin said quietly.

  “You’re sorry? You are sorry?”

  “Don’t, Ellie,” Cydney squealed.

  “What? I’m not doing anything. You’re the one who—while my back was turned—”

  Cydney jumped to her feet and darted behind the sofa. “Well, what am I supposed to do when you’re spending all your time with Miiike?”

  Elfrida lurched upright. She kicked the hassock she’d been sitting on, so hard that she hurt her foot. “How could you, Cyds?”

  “Goto, stop this,” Lin said. Her authoritative tone gave Elfrida pause.

  Cydney filled the momentary silence. “So what if I am sleeping with her!” she shouted. “Sex is meaningless! Isn’t that what you said after you fucked John Mendoza? It was only sex! Sex is meaningless!”

  The foyer was dead silent.

  Elfrida heard a titter from somewhere behind her.

  She touched her nose. Ow.

  Lin shrugged humorously, for the benefit of their growing audience. “There isn’t really much I can add to that. Except I hope we’re all mature enough that this won’t affect us professionally.”

  “You’re mature enough, anyway,” Elfrida mumbled. “You could be her mother. All that surgery isn’t fooling anyone.”

  “Put it in a campaign spot,” Lin said tartly. “You’re onto a winning line of attack there.”

  “I hate this fucking campaign!” It was a desperate appeal to Cydney, who only snerked nervously.

  “So go home,” Lin said. “Really. Think about it. You can quit anytime.”

  Elfrida launched herself at Lin and grabbed a handful of her shiny black hair. Cydney screamed. So did everyone else in the foyer.

  Lin grabbed Elfrida’s wrist, twisted it until she let go of her hair, and sidestepped.

  Two of Zazoë Heap’s bodyguards, a stray blue beret, and the receptionist from the front desk hurled themselves at the women and dragged them apart.

  Since Elfrida had been the aggressor, they pinned her to the floor. Her nose started bleeding again, and a maidbot rushed in and sprayed sanitizer in her eyes.

  ★

  A few hours later, Cydney edged up to the little sandcastle jammed between two larger ones. She had not been back here for days, not that Elfrida had even noticed, she was so busy with Dr. Hasselblatter’s campaign. Neighborhood children watched, giggling. Hydrosquitoes landed on Cydney’s hair. Ugh, this whole set-up was so revoltingly quirky.

  “Ellie?”

  No answer. Cydney pressed her finger on the fingerprint reader of the concertina door.

  She knew that she was in the wrong. It was a novel sensation, but strangely, not unwelcome. It clarified everything.

  I have to talk to her. Apologize. Beg for forgiveness.

  NOT RECOGNIZED, blinked the fingerprint reader.

  “Ohmy dog! Bitch!”

  Elfrida had obviously changed the permissions to lock Cydney out.

  “All my stuff is in there!”

  Tears sprang to Cydney’s eyes. She blundered through the village, weeping, and escaped into the darkness.

  By the time she got back to L1, she had managed to stop crying. She fixed a rigid smile on her mouth. Bad enough that vid of their earlier fight in the foyer was already percolating through the gossip feeds. She didn’t want to give her rivals—or Angelica’s—any more ammo.

  As she swept past the reception desk, the groupies and stringers sat up, but all they got was footage of her rigid back, the straight shoulders of a chieftain’s daughter.

  The door of Angelica’s suite still recognized her, anyway.

  Roughs for new banners flickered on the whiteboarded walls. Angelica reclined on the bed, eyes wide, pupils moving rapidly. She was simming something. But she must’ve had a window to reality open, because she sat up when Cydney came in. “Have a look at this.”

  “What?”

  “Hasselblatter’s released a promotional sim. Now you can personally experience the future of Mercury, when herds of robot bison roam the nightside, and a city on rails chugs majestically around the planet.” Angelica’s voice dripped with derision. “It’s already been picked up by all the major new-release curators. Need I say this is bad for us? It’s a disaster.”

  Cydney sat down hard on the floor, her legs splayed out. “I don’t care about the campaign.”

  Angelica slid off the bed and knelt in front of her. “This is all Hasselblatter’s fault, you know. You do know that?”

  “I’ve lost her! She’ll never trust me again!”

  “But it’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. Sex—what is it? Like you said, it doesn’t mean anything.”

  Cydney nodded uncertainly.

  “It’s Hasselblatter’s fault. She’s been working for his campaign pretty much full-time, hasn’t
she? He does this. I’ve seen it before. He picks someone out of the ranks and favors them. Flatters them. Listens to them. Recruits them into his inner circle. And that is what he’s doing to Elfrida. If you don’t act now, you will lose her … to him.”

  “That … actually makes a lot of sense. She is totally in the tank for him.”

  “Yep. So you have to disillusion her. Make her see that he’s a opportunistic fraud. The one and only thing Abdullah Hasselblatter cares about is Abdullah Hasselblatter. His policy positions are whatever happens to serve his career. There is nothing and no one he won’t betray to get ahead.”

  Angelica’s vitriolic denunciation seemed disproportionate to the candidates’ rivalry. It was almost like Angelica had a personal grudge against the Space Corps director.

  “And what’s more,” she added, “he’s stupid.”

  Cydney was about to object that you couldn’t get appointed to the President’s Advisory Council if you were stupid. Then she reconsidered. Yes, you could.

  “He’s deeply stupid. And that is how we’re going to take him down.”

  “I don’t understand. What can we say that we haven’t said already?”

  “There’s a way.”

  “Angie, the voters are stupid, too. They’re buying his crap by the truckload.”

  “They won’t buy it anymore, after this.” Angelica sat back on her heels. She pushed her shiny black hair behind her ears. The light shone into her pupils, turning them silver, the color of the retinal implants at the backs of her eyes. “I didn’t want to resort to personal attacks. But now we have no choice.

  “It just so happens I know something about Dr. Hasselblatter that almost no one else does.”

  She told Cydney what it was.

  “Oh. My. Dog,” Cydney said excitedly. “This is going to destroy him.”

  xv.

  Numbed by Cydney’s betrayal, Elfrida took refuge in work. She had to report the altercation on the Rowling Scarp.