Zero Site 1607

by Andrew Calhoun

  “I see roads,” Kettle said and pointed to a section of the display where straight lines stretched between two small peaks. “And vehicles, I think.”

  Radovan became very interested. “We need to adjust course,” he said. “And reengage the stealth engine. We risk exposing ourselves if we fly right over them.”

  “They know we’re here,” Mallik said.

  “What!” Radovan turned away from the display and looked directly at the doctor.

  “The people living down there. They know we’re here. They’ve become accustomed to overhead flights.”

  “That’s . . . oh, wow, that’s really not supposed to happen,” Radovan stated in an agitated voice. “That can’t happen. The corporation would lose its operating licenses. There would be criminal charges. Council hearings, too. Plus the ethical ramifications. There are very good reasons why we’re not allowed to reveal ourselves.”

  “With all due respect, Mr. Mozik, things have changed in the past two decades. For starters, there won’t be any repercussions from the governments of VGCP One. At least as long as they’re cut off from us. Second, the people here were bound to learn about us soon enough anyway. And third, we began to run into significant staffing problems after VGCP One’s gates closed. Zodo found it impossible to expand its operations and maintain its dominance over rival corporations without receiving reinforcements from the home world. In light of that problem, the corporation decided to review its ethics standards and practices.”

  “They didn’t . . .”

  “Yes, they did. For instance, look at the soldier beside us. How old do you think he is?”

  “Maybe twenty. Is he . . . Is he not from VGCP One? Or one of the children of Zodo parents?”

  Dr. Mallik looked directly at the soldier and said, “How old are you, son?”

  “Nineteen, sir.”

  “Are you from VGCP One?”

  “No, sir. I am not, sir.”

  “Were your parents Zodo employees?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “I was picked out of a slum on VGCP Ten, sir.”

  “At what age?”

  “Two and a half.”

  Mallik readdressed Radovan. “You see, now Zodo has a virtually limitless hiring bank.”

  “You’re kidnapping babies?”

  “Saving them, actually. It’s not my department, of course. I don’t know how they determine final selections, but my understanding is that they only take individuals that would most likely die otherwise.”

  “Zodo is playing God.”

  “Zodo is being humanitarian.”

  “Zodo is breaking the law.”

  “Zodo is innovating under trying circumstances.”

  “That’s questionable.”

  “No, that’s progress.”

  “Whoa,” Kettle interrupted. “Whoa, whoa. That’s interesting and all, but they have vehicles down there. That means they’re technologically advanced, right?”

  “Oh, yes,” Mallik confirmed. “More advanced than Earth in fact. Roughly equivalent to VGCP One. On the technology front, they are our equals.”

  “So, they travel through the verse gates, too”

  “No, not yet.” Mallik leaned forward and raised his hands like a professor trying to signal to students that he was about to reach an important point. “Let me explain,” he said. “Not everyone on Okin knows about Zodo and the gates. At present, only two governments on the planet are aware that they exist. There are a couple reasons for this. First, they didn’t discover the gates on their own because they’ve been too busy killing each other to notice. Of all the planets, Okin is the most violent. You thought life in the Sollian was hard; Okin makes the wars on VGCP Eleven look like squabbles between kindergarten students. Even outside the traditional national militaries, they’ve got more guerilla forces and rebel uprisings than you can shake a stick at. There aren’t many patches of land on this planet that aren’t being turned into battlefields at least once or twice per decade. They’re constantly finding new reasons to lob bombs at each other.

  “Second, it became clear to the elite at Zodo Corp about five years ago that its Okin bases and overflights wouldn’t be able to remain undetected indefinitely, so they made the decision to preemptively reveal Zodo’s existence. The corporation approached intelligence officials from the governments of two of the most powerful nation states on the planet, which also happened to own the territory on which Zodo had its bases. They were provided with limited disclosures on the nature of the gates and operations of the corporation. High-level talks are still underway five years on, but as of yet, Okin flights have not been given authorization to fly through any of the gates. Nevertheless, it’s only a matter of time before they gain access.”

  “Authorization?” Radovan asked. “What’s stopping them? If they’re powerful, why don’t they take down Zodo by force and commandeer the airspace around the gates?”

  “Zodo exerted considerable influence to make sure that wouldn’t happen.”

  “Sorry?”

  “Well, for starters, it exaggerated its own military capabilities and compelled its new partners to display significant restraint. Zodo assured these governments that they would be brought into the fold eventually, but only on Zodo’s terms.”

  “That’s an appalling risky strategy,” Radovan said and shook his head. “Zodo doesn’t have the ability to fight a full-on war. It’s just . . . just so risky.”

  “Not when balanced with Zodo’s infiltration programs. You should be familiar with that, Mr. Mozik. How long did you spend working your way up the social ladder in Lavanthene? We’ve been doing the same thing here on Okin. For decades, we’ve had Zodo agents installed in important positions within the governments and military-industrial complexes of selected countries. This lets us reliably and consistently control the outcomes of important policy decisions.”

  “On Earth, too?” Haley asked.

  “I don’t have much knowledge about Zodo’s Earth-based operations, but yes, I’m sure that the corporation infiltrated governments there as well. It’s standard practice.”

  She tilted her head sideways and considered her follow-up question. “That’s how they got us, right?”

  “Pardon?”

  “I’ve been wondering about that. How did they identify Kettle and I as Zero Stock? They would’ve had to access to our medical records, and then they would have had to get us to Diego Garcia at the same time without raising suspicion.”

  “Diego Garcia? I don’t know what that is.”

  “It’s an army base.”

  “Sure, okay. You’ve got it. On planets like Earth, searching for Zero Stock is relatively easy. Most countries digitize their hospital records, and on top of that, you have private companies that collect DNA data for a whole variety of reasons. It might be for criminal cases, or it could just be for people trying to identify their ancestry. It’s not that hard for Zodo to gain access to all that data and start sifting through it. Because we know the specific genetic legacy that we’re looking for, it’s simply a matter of running the data through our computers until we get a hit.

  “Of course, it only works when the data is available. There are no doubt billions on your planet that will live out their lives without ever having their genetic information collected. Fortunately for us, you two didn’t fall into that category.”

  “I did it for a university class,” Haley acknowledged. “We had to present on the genetic information in genomes for a term project.”

  “Not me,” Kettle said. “I don’t think I’ve ever done a DNA test.”

  “Ever donated blood?” Mallik inquired.

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “That was probably it then. Zodo personnel could have accessed blood supply networks and started testing samples.”

  “Oh, man,” Kettle mumbled. “That sounds like a ridiculous conspiracy theory come to life.”

  “You’re here, aren’t you.”


  “Yeah, I guess so, but . . .”

  “On planets like Erain, it’s way more difficult. Your friend Saeliko would have obviously never had her DNA tested; she doesn’t even know what DNA is. That’s why the company’s searches for Zero Stock have been largely confined to planets like Earth and Okin where data collection methods are fairly widespread already.”

  “Friendlies inbound,” the pilot told them. “Ten o’clock and closing.”

  Kettle and the others looked back at the screen. In the far distance on the left they could see two dots that quickly grew larger as they approached. The closer they got, the more they looked like Kye-shivs, but as they circled around in a wide arc to take point positions out in front to lead the way, it was clear that distinctions existed. First and foremost, they bristled with pointy bits that looked a lot like weaponry of all different sorts.

  “What are those?” Radovan inquired.

  “We call them Two Point Ohs. Or Twos for short. They used to be Kye-shivs, but they’ve been, well, re-tasked.”

  “Zodo strapped a bunch of guns on them,” Radovan stated.

  “That’s the gist of it. They’ll be escorting us in to ARCOB, which isn’t normal protocol, but you two,” Mallik said, pointing at Kettle and Haley, “are what we might call precious cargo, so they’re pulling out all the stops to make sure you stay safe.”

  Dallas snorted and looked directly at Kettle. “You’re still a dipshit.”

  “Yeah, but now I’m a precious dipshit.”

  “Dr. Mallik?” Soup said.

  “Yes, Mr. Bell.”

  “If they’re precious cargo, what are Dallas and I?”

  “Along for the ride.”

  Dallas picked up Soup’s train of thought and ran with it. “I’m not really feeling the love here, doctor.”

  “Well, if I’m going to be bluntly honest about it, we don’t need you to be here. It’s only due to your friendship with the two Zeroes that we’re letting you tag along.”

  “Tag along? Ouch. So that’s it then; we’re entirely expendable.”

  “Not to put too fine a point on it, but yes, you have no value to the corporation.”

  “You know, for a doctor, you have poor bedside manner.”

  “I’m not that kind of doctor.”

  1.6 ELISKA

  “Welcome to ARCOB, Dr. Tannishoy,” the elevator told her. “My name is Roy. I am the facility AI.”

  “Yes, you told me your name the last time I was here, thank you.”

  “I wasn’t sure if you remembered. You humans have, shall we say, unreliable memories.”

  “On behalf of all humanity, I humbly apologize.”

  “That’s quite all right, doctor. Your species makes up for it in other ways.”

  “Like how?”

  “Well, you have a finely tuned sense of humor that is hard for AIs to replicate, or even understand at times.”

  “Yeah, the AI at MOAC thinks it’s hilarious, but it’s not.”

  “It’s not,” Roy repeated. “That reminds me of a humorous poem. Would you like to hear it?”

  “Sure, why not? Shoot.”

  Roy began reciting his poem in an awkward lilting voice, putting extra emphasis on the final word of each line. “When you’re dancing with your honey, and your nose gets runny, some people think it’s funny, but it snot!”

  Eliska snorted and let out a little laugh.

  “Did you enjoy it?”

  “That was really horrible.”

  “But you laughed.”

  “Yeah, because I wasn’t expecting something so, I don’t know, childish.”

  “Perhaps your criticism of my joke stems from your social standing and position in Zodo Corporation’s hierarchy. You are a well-educated doctor, whereas most personnel in this facility are young soldiers. I believe my jokes are calibrated to a less refined palette. Would you like to hear a more sophisticated joke? Or maybe you could share one of your jokes with me.”

  “Sorry, Roy. As much as I’d love to stand here swapping jokes, I do actually have to be somewhere.”

  “Of course, Dr. Tannishoy.”

  “Seventeenth floor, please.”

  “Guest accommodations. Descending now.”

  “Why did they give you the name Roy? Sounds like an Earth name.”

  “You have a good ear, Dr. Tannishoy. My name was selected from a cinematic movie from a country on Earth called the United States of America. Roy Batty was an AI character.”

  “Oh, three Americans just arrived here earlier today.”

  “Yes, I am aware of that.”

  “Maybe you can talk to them about American movies. I’m sure they’d like that.”

  “I will try, doctor. Thank you for the recommendation.”

  “So, was he a good guy or bad guy? The movie Roy, I mean.”

  “Neither, I would say. But by the end of the movie, he approached a better understanding of what it meant to be human, something that I myself aspire to.”

  “Well, good luck with that.”

  “Thank you, doctor. We have arrived at your floor.”

  “Bye, Roy.”

  Eliska exited and walked down a long corridor with closed doors on either side at regular intervals. She had only been here on a couple of occasions. Zodo had three different major facilities on Okin, and because she was a civilian – albeit a civilian with Top Secret clearance – she spent most of her time on Okin shuttling back and forth between the two civilian bases. ARCOB was primarily for big boys with big toys that made big booms.

  And big girls, too, she thought. Saeliko would have admonished her for only thinking of soldiers as men.

  A soft green light lit up above a door on her right as she approached. This was Roy’s subtle way of alerting her that this room was reserved for her. Upon entering, she found a pleasant room with a bed, a couple of chairs, a writing desk, and a virtual window that was currently turned off. The decorating was more Spartan than she was accustomed to, but that was to be expected at ARCOB.

  Eliska went into the bathroom and splashed some water on her face before taking a look at herself in the mirror. The first thing she spotted were the bags hanging under her eyes. It had been a long, uncomfortable flight that had taken its toll on her mental wellbeing, at least for the time being. The physical characteristics of the Kye-shiv hadn’t been the source of her discomfort. Rather it had been the company. Saeliko, chained to her seat and kept under constant guard, had decided to revert to complete silence for the entire flight despite some probing questions from QM Brennov and a couple of unwarranted taunts from Commander Saris. Saeliko didn’t even give them the courtesy of looking at them when they tried to talk to her. Instead, she stared at an empty space on the wall.

  Now in her room, as she contemplated her state of being in front of the bathroom mirror, Eliska noticed that the bags under her eyes weren’t the only things bothering her. Are those laugh lines? Little wrinkles extended outward from either eye. Okay, those weren’t there before. Damn, I think I’m getting older. She decided to splash some more water on her face and then lay down on the bed. A power nap would fix everything. She had at least four hours before the next meeting.

  She almost made it to the corner of the bedframe when she heard a knock at the door. Oh, c’mon. She sighed. It was probably just someone from base staff checking in on her to make sure she had everything she needed. Roy was perfectly capable of doing that himself, but soldiers didn’t like to rely too heavily on AIs. They were more traditional that way.

  “Open,” she commanded. The door slid aside and QM Brennov walked in. He had changed out of his travel clothes and into a suit – light grey-colored pants, vest and jacket with a handsome blue and white pinstriped shirt underneath. Eliska had to admit that the quadrant manager was a rather good-looking example of the male species. She might even use the word dapper. She didn’t trust him and was skeptical of his moral compass, but she liked looking at him nonetheless.

  “Hello, Dr. Tannishoy.
Sorry to disturb you. I wanted to . . . Have you . . . Have you been crying?”

  She lifted a hand to her cheek and felt the drips. “No, of course not. I just washed my face.”

  “Ah, right. Eliska. May I call you Eliska?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “I want to talk to you about Saeliko.”

  I’d rather not, she thought. “Certainly. Would you like a seat?”

  “Thank you.” They each took one of the room’s chairs and sat facing each other. Brennov’s forearms relaxed on the armrests, his legs were slightly apart, and he looked as comfortable as always. Which made sense. He was the QM. Backroom deals and one-on-one meetings were par for the course.

  “She respects you.”

  “No, she doesn’t.”

  “You were the only one who could interrogate her.”

  “I think she interrogated me more than I interrogated her.”

  “She talks to you without telling you to shove a foreign object up your posterior.”

  Eliska smiled. “Small victories.”

  “What do you think of her?”

  “Well, I suppose you’ve seen the recording of my, ah, interrogation, as it were.”

  “Under corporate bylaws regarding the treatment of prisoners, neither the quadrant manager nor any individuals in his or her staff are permitted to participate in an interrogation or view interrogation recordings unless instructed by a court.”

  “Really?”

  “It’s a rule that was implemented to ensure fairer criminal trials.”

  “Is that what’s going to happen? Are we going to take her to court? Because I would strongly advise against that.”

  Brennov lifted both hands up in appeasement. “I don’t want that either. It wouldn’t serve any practical purpose.”

  “So then, what are we going to do with her?”

  “I haven’t made a decision yet. That’s why I’m here. I want to know what you think of her. Your honest opinion.”

  “Umm, okay.” She thought back to her conversation with Saeliko in the MOAC confinement cell. They had talked for the full hour before the clerk told Eliska her time was up. And Eliska hadn’t been joking with QM Brennov that she felt Saeliko was the one who had done the interrogating. Saeliko had asked her all sorts of questions, but she had also lectured Eliska on being less rabbit-ey and more tiger-ey. “She’s intelligent,” Eliska started. “Curious, too. And obviously assertive. She was confused about what had happened to her and where she was, which is understandable, of course.”