The Winter War

by Niall Teasdale

Truelove pulled herself up straight and set her face for business. ‘Yes they will. You just leave them to me.’

  FSA Headquarters.

  ‘They failed,’ Dowler said into his phone. ‘Not only did they fail, but two of them didn’t have the sense to die. They’re under Agency guard in the hospital and expected to fully recover. They’ll be interrogated…’ He stopped, listening to the voice on the other end for several seconds. ‘Of course, I wouldn’t presume to… I’m sure the matter will be handled.’

  He turned in his seat, relaxing. ‘Yes, the Jansen woman again. She’s more of an issue than we’d thought. Her talent for disruption is quite extreme. My hands are tied, however. There are already very positive interviews making the rounds on both public and private news channels. I’m told she’s to appear on Federation Life this week. The populace is starting to think of her as a heroine…’ He listened for a second. ‘I think I should know what…’ But the line went dead before he could discover what plans his handler had.

  ~~~

  Truelove looked up from her console as the door opened. A mid-height woman with black hair and a tanned, slightly freckled complexion stepped through and stopped, examining her carefully before speaking. It was almost time to leave for home and Truelove did not really want the interruption. On the other hand, she had really not been expecting to see that particular woman right now.

  ‘Agent Truelove, I’m Justine Nivalis. I’ve been assigned as your protection detail. I’ll be coming home with you. You’re not leaving my sight.’ Contact details confirming the woman’s identity appeared in Truelove’s vision field along with the speech.

  ‘Uh…’ Truelove began. It was as if they had never met, but this was the same Justine who had visited her apartment, surely.

  ‘No arguments, ma’am. You were attacked with intent to kill. Those men weren’t common thieves.’

  ‘Yes, I know. I just…’

  Justine’s face softened into a smile. ‘Winter was an old friend, ma’am. She spoke of you and I know she wouldn’t want anything happening to you. And, frankly, I’ve just been reassigned from protection duties on Odanari and I’m stuck in hotel rooms until I can find a place to live. You’d be doing me a favour putting a real roof over my head and I assure you you’ll be safe with me.’

  Truelove looked at her for a second. She looked quite genuine, and she really looked as though they had never met before. It was a little too strange… ‘You’ll forgive me for being a little paranoid…’ She tapped a few keys on her console.

  ‘Torrence,’ the speakers said.

  ‘Sharissa, it’s Elaine. Did you assign someone to me as…?’

  ‘Justine Nivalis, and you’ll do what she says or it’s protective custody for you. Is she there yet?’

  ‘I’m here, boss,’ Justine called out. ‘Agent Truelove was just being justifiably paranoid.’

  ‘Thanks, Sharissa,’ Truelove said.

  ‘This is our job, Elaine. See you later.’

  Truelove looked up as the connection closed. ‘Okay then, I guess you’re my protection detail.’

  Justine smiled. ‘You’re in safe hands, ma’am.’

  Galaxy House, Downtown Yorkbridge, 10.10.527 FSC.

  ‘Don’t worry, Miss Jansen, you’re in safe hands.’ The speaker was an almost annoying bright young woman who was going to make sure that Aneka looked good on camera. It had taken half an hour of careful consideration and staring before the producer was happy with the outfit Ella had selected for her to wear, and now they were going to cover her in make-up. Aneka was a little worried she might lose it before she even got to the interview stage.

  ‘You’re lucky,’ the make-up artist, whose name was Shelley, said. ‘Some of the people we get on here need a lot of work, but you’re just about perfect as it is. I guess you’ve got that whole artificial skin thing working for you there.’ She picked up something that looked a lot like a radiant scanner and pointed it at Aneka. ‘I just need to check for lighting adjustments and then put on some basic stuff. I think you’ll suit a minimal look…’

  ‘That thing checks for shine?’ Aneka asked.

  ‘Excessive skin oil, shiny patches I might need to apply matte tones to, and it gives me a precise tone match.’ She patted a rather high-tech make-up box sitting behind her. ‘This can produce over a thousand different base tones and mix up just about any combination of colour I might want.’

  ‘Nanotechnology,’ Aneka said, looking at the case.

  ‘Uh-huh. Starts with some base materials and produces what I need from there. It really comes into its own with the powders. They’re basically engineered precisely for the subject. Now, let’s get started.’ And Shelley went to work.

  The base coat to take any shine off her skin was a perfect match. Having it applied to her knees, ankles, and elbows seemed distinctly odd, but apparently those tended to look darker on camera. Then there was lip liner, and lipstick, and then a shadow for her eyelids, and then a pale smear under her eyebrows which supposedly made your eyes appear more open.

  Ella had put her in a tightly laced corset, which gave her a lot of cleavage, and a fairly short, pleated skirt, which gave her a lot of leg. Shelley smiled as she patted powder between Aneka’s breasts. ‘These are magnificent. Stephanie will be envious. Try not to rub her nose in it.’

  ‘I didn’t realise it was that kind of show,’ Aneka replied, because she would have done anything right then to not have a woman patting at her breasts with a sponge.

  ‘What? Oh, right… Uh, no, it’s not that kind of show, but Stephanie’s insecure about her boobs.’

  ‘I’ll try to remember that. Why doesn’t she just, y’know, get them fixed? My partner was the same, even if she had no need. She just…’

  ‘Morbid fear of surgeons,’ Shelley said.

  ‘She’s afraid of surgery? But…’

  ‘No, surgeons. Her first partner was a neurosurgeon. She’s convinced he’s got every single man with a scalpel ready to cut her open on the table.’

  ‘Right…’

  ‘There you go. All sorted.’ Shelley glanced at a wall clock. ‘And you can go through to the waiting room. She’ll be finishing up with the first guest shortly.’

  Getting to her feet, Aneka pulled out the tissues Shelley had used to shield her clothes and headed out to the room down the corridor where she was supposed to wait to go on. That was one thing at least; she was second on and only had to survive quarter of an hour of purgatory. Entering the room she realised that purgatory would last a little longer.

  ‘Aneka! Excellent! You’re here!’ Marty was the producer of Federation Life, the presenter’s current partner, and Aneka would have thought he was gay if it was not for the partnership. He made camp look like a Victorian vicar. ‘You look totally gorgeous, my dear! The camera will adore you!’

  ‘Uh, thanks, Marty,’ Aneka replied. She could almost hear the exclamation marks at the end of his sentences, like small explosions of fireworks.

  ‘A drink before you go on? Calm the nerves?’

  ‘Alcohol doesn’t affect me. I’ll be fine.’

  Marty had a high forehead, so when he slapped it it was really effective. ‘Of course not! Dolt! I’m so insensitive!’

  ‘It’s fine, really. People take a little time to get used to the idea. Usually.’

  ‘It’s just that you don’t look like… I mean you’re so… What I mean to say is…’

  ‘He’s not gay,’ Al commented as Marty got on with being flustered. ‘There’s too much blood rushing to his…’

  ‘Yeah, but why is she with him?’ Aneka broke in, mostly to stop Al continuing. ‘I mean, his hairline is receding, he’s shorter than she is, he’s not especially well built, and that beard is… not that great.’

  ‘He seems to be well endowed in other respects.’

  Aneka shut off the infrared overlay on her vision. ‘I do not need to know that.’ Aloud she said, ‘It’s okay, Marty. Really. Jenlay don’t like robots much. It’s far ea
sier to take me the way I look, which is just like anyone else. Isn’t it time to get ready?’

  He looked up at the clock and then pressed his finger to his ear, listening. ‘Yes, she’s wrapping things up with Beatrice. Do you know Beatrice Crook?’

  ‘I think I’ve seen a couple of her movies.’ Al was displaying various headline clips from news feeds for her. Crook was promoting her new film, The Havershaw Affair. Apparently the star of many terrible sex comedies was trying to break into something more serious: a romantic thriller. ‘She’s got that new one coming out, right?’

  ‘Indeed. By all accounts it has the artistic merit of gopi spread over Plascrete. We’re lucky to have you on tonight. I think half the audience would have switched to FNN if you weren’t on next.’ He clutched his ear again. ‘You’d better go on. The floor manager will meet you on stage.’

  The set was basic, and essentially virtual. Aneka could see it from stage left as she walked as quietly as she could in the high-heeled, clog-like pumps she was wearing toward it. There were three huge screens making up the backdrop. She could see another off to the side, and knew it had a twin on her side of the stage, which showed the audience what the people watching at home were seeing. There was a couch for the guests; Aneka could see the mass of black hair which belonged to Beatrice Crook above the back of it. Stephanie Julietta, the host, had a large armchair opposite the couch. She was a tall, slim woman with cropped, blonde hair and what looked like a perfectly respectable amount of cleavage on display in a low-cut bodice. Then again, corsetry could do wonders.

  The floor manager was a harried looking brunette in T-shirt and jeans who looked like she could not wait for the evening to be over. She held up a hand for Aneka to wait. Aneka gave her a quick smile and waited.

  ‘Thank you, Beatrice,’ Julietta was saying. ‘Beatrice Crook everyone!’

  ‘Are you ready for this?’ Aneka asked silently as the applause started.

  ‘I’m… nervous,’ Al replied. ‘I’m not used to speaking to people.’

  ‘You speak to me, and Cassandra, and Ella now too.’

  ‘Yes, but not to people. I’m an observer, not a communicator.’

  ‘You’ll be fine. You’ve got a sexy voice, remember?’

  As Crook moved over on the couch, Julietta began introducing Aneka. ‘Our second guest tonight is both more famous and less well-known than Beatrice. Almost everyone has heard of her, but she’s not a public figure. When the Federation heard that a woman had been found frozen in stasis who had been born before the Xinti War, there was surprise and interest, but that interest waned as she got on with living in our century. She gave a few interviews, but we never really got to know who she was. But then we found out what she was and how she had come to be that way. Now we want to know more.’

  The blonde got to her feet, holding an arm out in Aneka’s general direction. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, Aneka Jansen.’

  The floor manager waved Aneka forward, and the glare protection on her eyes cut in as she stepped into the beam of a spotlight. The three screens at the back of the stage lit up to show her head and shoulders as she walked on, trying very hard not to show how nervous she was feeling and remember to smile.

  Julietta was a kisser. Just on the cheek, but it had to be done. Aneka had to bend down a little to proffer the cheek, and the blonde did look a little enviously at Aneka’s chest. They sat down, Aneka giving Crook a smile which was reciprocated far too brightly for it to be real.

  ‘Aneka,’ Julietta began, setting her face on serious, ‘let’s get the technicalities out of the way first. What do we describe you as? A robot? An artificial person? The Herosians are saying that you are a Xinti?’

  There had been a lot of discussion about that one. Ollander, Elroy, and Ella had all counselled her the same way: be honest. ‘Well, the Herosians are right, technically. I call myself a robot operated by Aneka Jansen’s ghost. My friends tell me I’m being too hard on myself.’

  Julietta smiled, but Aneka could see why she was considered a good presenter. She knew exactly where to take that answer. ‘You’re technically a Xinti?’

  ‘On two counts. Physically I underwent the same process they employed to convert themselves into digital minds. At some point in their history a plague hit their world. It was something horrific, spread rapidly, killed quickly and horribly. The only way they could think of to save their species was to use nanomachines to pull their brains apart, mapping the neurons as they went, and use the data to make software models. That’s what they did to me, and then they put me into this body, which was built using their technology. So, physically, I’m a Xinti.’

  ‘But the brain they mapped was a Jenlay one.’

  ‘Human back then, but yes. The other technicality is that the Xinti warrior caste inducted me. They said I represented their highest ideals. So, technically, I’m a Xinti warrior. I even have a Xinti name, Yrimlos, though I prefer not to be reminded of that.’

  Julietta nodded. ‘When you and your party came back from Negral you stated that you had no love for the Xinti, but that the artificial intelligences there were not Xinti.’

  ‘That’s true. Though I’d add that the Xinti were not the monsters legend paints them. Not all of them anyway. They were people, just like any Jenlay, or Herosian, or Torem. We found an artefact on a ship in the Negral system. A picture of two Xinti just like you’d find pictures of couples in any house in Yorkbridge. She had left him on their home world to do administrative work on a battleship during the war. She found out that he had been killed just before dying herself while helping to save injured soldiers, and all that’s left of their lives is a hologram in storage at the university.’

  ‘That’s… sad,’ Crook said from the other end of the sofa. It sounded genuine.

  ‘Yes,’ Aneka added, ‘but I’d still happily fillet the people who did this to me, if they weren’t all dead anyway.’

  ‘You’re quite sure they’re all gone?’ Julietta asked.

  ‘Negral had seen no evidence of them in centuries. They believed they were extinct.’

  ‘But they were attacked by a Xinti ship.’

  ‘Maybe. But if they were then those Xinti are all dead now. The entire Negral system was destroyed when its star went nova. Nothing could have survived that.’

  Someone was probably talking in Julietta’s ear; she shifted topics before they got too deep into politically hot subjects. ‘Tell us about your life on Old Earth.’

  ‘I was a soldier. I’d wanted to be one since I was a girl. I dressed my doll in combat fatigues and I was a boyish sort of girl, until puberty anyway. I was actually a little annoyed when boys started looking me in the chest instead of the eyes.’

  Julietta gave her a grin. ‘And you looked like you do now?’

  ‘Almost. I think we have a picture…’ She turned to look over her shoulder and the back screen changed to show the family portrait Aneka had got from Old Earth. She had not brought the physical copy back, but it had been in her memory and now it was useful. ‘That’s me back then. The flesh and blood me. My hair was blonde, not white. The Xinti took their ideas on what a woman should look like from the internet, so they bumped me up a cup size and got rid of most of my body hair. Back then I had to shave my legs if I wanted to wear a skirt. Can’t say I miss that.’ That actually got a rumble of laughter out of the audience as well as Julietta and Crook.

  ‘And the other people in the picture?’

  ‘My parents, Hugo and Lauren, and my brother, Alan. I never had a place of my own, so when I came home I would stay with them. I travelled a lot, first with the Army, then with a private security firm. I did corporate protection, and then rescue work. It was on one of those missions that the Xinti took me.’

  ‘Hostage rescue. You seem to have got back into that since arriving here.’

  ‘It’s more of a hobby now.’ There was more laughter. ‘I’ve been in the right place at the right time, and I’ve been able to help where others couldn’t.’
<
br />   ‘Yes, I understand that the spaceport on Harriamon was accessed through an airless tunnel, and then you killed or disabled ten armed men to save the colony.’ There was nothing Aneka could really add without sounding like she was blowing her own trumpet so she smiled and nodded. ‘What is your body actually capable of?’

  ‘Well, I’m not indestructible, as my partner keeps reminding me. I’m more or less bulletproof, but I wasn’t built to resist lasers. I can survive in a vacuum for several hours, but I have systems that need oxygen. I’m strong, far stronger than a typical Jenlay. I can hear sounds you can’t and see in frequencies of light you can’t. I remember everything, no matter how much I’d like to forget it, but my memory was damaged by the long period in stasis, so I don’t remember everything from before then.’

  ‘Amazing, and you’re also never alone.’

  ‘Uh, no.’

  Julietta turned to the audience. ‘Normally we only have two guests on the show, but tonight we have a third, very special, guest. Hopefully he’s connected through to our sound system here. I’d like to introduce Aneka’s support AI, Al.’

  Al’s smooth, deeply masculine voice flowed from the speakers around the studio. ‘Good evening, Miss Julietta. It’s a privilege to be allowed to appear on your show, if only as a voice. May I say that you’re looking exceptionally elegant tonight?’

  Aneka bit down on a laugh; the woman actually blushed! ‘Thank you, Al. Please call me Stephanie. Did I get that right, you are Aneka’s “support AI?”’

  ‘That is correct, Stephanie. I was made specifically for the purpose of coordinating Aneka’s systems, operating her electronic warfare systems, and observing how she reacted to the world around her. Our original purpose was to observe Humanity from within, so to speak, and it was felt that an independent observer of Aneka was required to give a complete picture.’

  ‘You were “made” to do that? I think most Jenlay have very little idea of how an AI is made.’

  ‘I’m afraid that AI programming is not one of my areas of expertise. I can tell you that my purpose is part of my core programming. I was coded to help Aneka adjust to her new circumstances.’