by Gus Flory
“I hate that guy,” Cone said as they passed the portrait and entered the lobby to his office. “I honestly believe he’s mildly retarded.”
His secretary stood from her desk.
“Sir, Arbona Halili has been trying to reach you. Titan News called requesting interviews. The S.S.F. Assembly Liaison Officer said he needs to speak with you immediately. Mr. Horace Fontaigne called.”
Cone waved his arm as if shooing away everything she had said.
“I’ve got it, Shelly. Go home and have dinner, would you?”
Cone reached to open the door to his office.
“Sir,” she said sharply. “You have a visitor.”
Cone turned and looked at her.
She nodded.
“Have a seat, Major. I’ll just be a moment.”
He gestured for Diego to sit. “Shelly, make him a cup of coffee, or a drink, whatever he wants, OK?”
Diego sat on a plush chair across from Shelly’s desk.
Cone looked at him and then opened his office door, slipping inside and quickly shutting the door behind him.
“Cream and sugar?”
“Black.”
Shelly stepped out of the lobby to make the coffee.
Diego could hear muffled shouts behind Cone’s door. He focused his attention on the voices and could make out the words.
“You idiot, I told you never to come here unannounced.”
“I’ll come here if I feel like it. You don’t tell me what to do. Nobody on this rock tells me what to do.”
The voice was husky and hoarse.
“Get out of here and back to your studio. I need you to flood them with so much disinfo they don’t know up from down. Give them the line about the Reptilians. Alien spaceships. Make them look ridiculous. All the stops this time. Do you understand?”
“I’m burning through the last of my credibility, Cone. You’ve pushed me too far. The folks out there are wising up.”
“Here’s your coffee, sir,” Shelly said, handing Diego the cup. “And a biscuit.”
“Thank you.”
She looked at him closely, smiling, but she couldn’t hide the concern on her face.
The muffled yelling continued behind the door, but with Shelly standing in front of him watching him he could no longer concentrate on the words.
“He’ll only be a minute, Major.”
“That’s fine.”
She looked at the door and then back at him and smiled. He set the coffee cup on the coffee table without taking a sip.
The door opened. “Come in, Major.”
Diego stood, leaving the coffee and biscuit.
Cone’s office was large and comfortable, carpeted, with cherrywood cabinets filled with collectible printed books on history, the biographies of great leaders, and works of philosophy. On the walls were framed paintings of Earth landscapes.
“Have a seat,” Cone said, gesturing to a leather chair. He walked to a bar in the corner of the room and filled a glass with ice. He poured whiskey over the ice.
Shelly entered, set down Diego’s coffee and biscuit on the coffee table, and exited the room, shutting the door behind her.
“Whiskey?” Cone asked.
“I have coffee.”
Diego looked into the adjacent room, but it appeared empty.
“Who was your visitor?”
“Nobody.”
Cone sipped his whiskey.
“I heard somebody.”
“An employee. His performance has been poor lately. But this isn’t the time or place to discuss it. I had him exit through the back.”
Cone sat in the leather chair across from Diego. He appeared flustered, agitated.
He raised the remote control and turned on Titan News. Judy Reza was broadcasting from the courthouse. A verdict for the war crimes trial of Tiberius Marko was about to be announced. A large crowd had gathered in the square in front of the courthouse. Police in riot gear were assembled atop the courthouse steps.
“I brought you here to thank you for what you’ve done for the people of Titan,” Cone said. “You’ve played a critical role in ending any hope these Neo-Fascist deadenders have of threatening our freedoms and prosperity.”
Cone turned his attention to the flat screen.
“But who I’m really eager to hear about is Tupo Pelagi. I want to know what that witch has been up to.”
“The verdict in the Tiberius Marko war crimes trial has been announced,” Judy Reza said. “Marko has been found guilty of two counts of genocide and nine crimes against humanity for his actions during the Titan War of 2096-97.”
The news spread through the crowd in front of the courthouse. Some threw water bottles at the police.
The police raised their riot shields to deflect the incoming bottles.
A chant broke out.
“Long live Marko. Long live the Republic.”
“Has the sentence been announced?” the anchor asked.
“Yes, Jayden,” Reza said over the clamor. “Marko has been sentenced to death.”
A boot flew from the crowd and struck Reza square in the face, knocking her down.
“Are you OK, Judy?” The anchor touched his finger to his ear. “Judy?”
A young man broke from the crowd and rushed up the steps toward the police shield wall. He hurled a bottle. The bottle smashed against a riot shield and exploded. The police officer holding the shield was engulfed in a flash of blue fire.
13. Fire Phobia
Diego and Cone watched as a cascade of liquid methane cocktails exploded against the police shield wall. Each bomb flashed green and blue in expanding will-o’-wisps that engulfed in fire the police officers behind their shields. The shield wall broke as the police ran from the flashing flames. The surging mob rushed up the steps and through the courthouse door.
“Riots appear to be breaking out in several districts of Cassini City,” the news anchor said.
The screen showed the narrow corridors of the Pioneer District filled with an angry mob of tens of thousands. Police vans were being overturned. Windows were being smashed.
Einstein Plaza was filled with rioters rampaging through restaurants and shops. The mob pulled down the statue of Albert Einstein. They cheered as the statue toppled and crashed to the floor.
“It looks like the mobs are converging on the Government Center. The police appear overwhelmed.”
Cone answered his vibrating handheld. A woman’s voice spoke quickly on the other end.
“Listen, Chief,” Cone said. “I can’t call in T-FORCE. The T-FORCE maneuver element is on Enceladus. We’re on our own until they return. Seal the concourses and corridors. Start cracking heads. Deadly force is authorized. Shut the oxygen off if you have to. I don’t care. Get this under control now. And get over here. I’m going to hold a press conference and I need you with me.”
Cone set his handheld back on his desk, but it buzzed again.
“What is it, Horace? In case you haven’t already heard, a full-blown insurrection is underway. The Noer are in open rebellion.”
Cone went silent as he listened to Horace Fontaigne on the other end. He looked up warily at Diego as Fontaigne spoke.
“He’s here with me right now. OK. Fine.”
Cone typed a message into his handheld. He set it down, looked up at Diego and took a long swig from his glass.
“Well, Major, you’ve just gone from hero to zero. I don’t know what to think. SSIS has some questions to ask you. They’re sending a team over here to retrieve you. You’re not to leave the Governor’s Mansion. Understood?”
“What’s changed?”
“The T-FORCE scouts searched the blast crater on Enceladus. It turns out what exploded down there wasn’t a ship.”
“What do you mean it wasn’t a ship?”
“It was a prop. A decoy. It had no energy gun, no engines. It was just scaffolding with an aluminum frame. Either they showed it to you to fool you, or you’re in on the deception. I suppose
it makes sense now that I think about. Divert the maneuver element from Titan and then start a riot. Now I can’t call on T-FORCE to crack their stupid Noer skulls open.”
The door to Cone’s office opened and three large men in suits stepped inside.
“I don’t have time for this,” Cone said. “I have other things going on right now in case you haven’t noticed. My security team will keep you company until SSIS arrives.”
Cone stood from his desk, finished his drink, then straightened his tie and collar. He looked down at Diego.
“I was hoping you’d tell me what you learned from Tupo and Belfrey, but it looks like you’ll be telling it to the interrogators.”
Cone walked out of his office.
The security team moved closer to Diego who sat in front of his untouched cup of coffee and biscuit.
“Please follow us, sir.”
Diego stood and walked with the big men out of the office. Blasts outside shook the mansion. Methane cocktails smashed through windows. Explosions of blue fire flashed inside offices.
“Where are you taking me?”
“The rooftop landing pad, sir. An SSIS transport will be arriving momentarily.”
A fire alarm blared. The sprinkler system sprayed water from the ceiling. Hallway doors began sealing shut.
As the water sprayed down and the alarm blared, Diego darted sideways and slipped past an office door as it sealed shut behind him.
The big men pounded on the door as Diego stood alone in the office on the other side. He walked over to the window and looked out. The plaza in front of the Governor’s Mansion was overflowing with an angry mob. Methane bombs zipped upward and exploded against the mansion’s walls.
Diego kicked at the window with his heel. He kicked it several times until the clear plastic broke from its frame. He stepped out onto the ledge. He was on the top floor of the mansion. The city ceiling above him was crisscrossed with metal support beams. Methane bombs flashed as they ignited against the walls and windows. Some of the offices below him were aflame. Fire lapped up the side of the building from broken office windows.
Diego moved along the ledge until he came to a large window that extended the height of the floor. One of the panes had been shattered by a projectile shot from the mob below. Diego pushed through the pane and jumped down onto the office floor.
He was inside a conference room with a long conference table in front of the large window. He could see his coffee cup and biscuit still on the coffee table in the next room.
The man Diego had heard arguing with Cone must have exited through this room, but there was no door other than the one that led into Cone’s office. Diego searched the walls and found a seam above a cabinet. He attempted to pull away the cabinet, but it was affixed to the wall. He unlatched his multitool from his belt and pulled open a blade. He slid the blade into the seam and followed it across and down the wall. The seam was to a tightly sealed door. He tried to pry the door open but was unable. He searched the cabinets along the wall, pulling out books, moving aside a candelabrum. He tried to move a small bronze globe of Titan, but it was attached to the cabinet. He yanked it and suddenly the cabinet slid away and the door behind it slid open.
Diego entered the doorway and walked down a dark hallway, down several flights of stairs until he came to another door. He opened it slowly and looked out into a hallway.
He walked down the narrow hallway, which turned and opened into a large hallway with a high barrel-shaped ceiling. The hallway was lined with doors. He heard voices and ducked inside a door, quietly closing it behind him.
The room was cluttered with what looked like the aftermath of a costume party. Empty vodka bottles and glasses were on a coffee table. Chairs were set up in front of mirrors in what appeared to be makeup stations. On the floor by one of the stations was a moulage kit complete with stick-on wounds, simulated lacerations and bottles of fake blood. An orange jumpsuit spattered with blood was crumpled up in the corner of the room.
Diego prodded the jumpsuit with the toe of his boot. Something solid was in one of the pockets. He bent down and removed a hardbound book from the pocket. He flipped it open. It was filled with handwriting.
He read one of the entries. “I love him. I can’t help myself. Meeting him in the dark in the cargo hold thrills my soul. Kevin is a wonderful lover.”
He flipped to the first page. Written on the page were the words: “Heather’s Deployment Diary.”
Diego flipped toward the middle of the journal and read another entry. “Kevin said he’s going to get me into PSYOPS. It sounds like such an interesting career field.”
He flipped past mundane entries about conversations with podmates and weapons training in the virtual engagement skills trainer.
“Kevin scared me today. I still don’t know what to think. We were alone in his bunk after making love. He told me he’d tell me a secret if I promised not to tell anyone, so I promised. Then he told me he’s really a high-level SSIS operative working for something called a Catalyzing Event Operations Coordination unit and that he’s on a top-secret mission to Titan. I was joking with him and kind of making fun of him but then he became super serious. He said there’s going to be this big terrorist attack when we get to Titan and that it was all planned out. But the terrorists were really an SSIS kill team. He started telling me how these attacks are done to make the people hate the Federation’s enemies and achieve political objectives. He said they’ve been pulling them off for centuries and it’s how our rulers control the minds of the masses. He said the people who do the attacks are paid a lot of money and get all kinds of special privileges, like taking vacations on Earth and hanging out with movie stars. He said if I stuck with him he’d get me onto a Catalyzing Event Operations Coordination team. He started going on about how he was involved in the Hong Hills High School Massacre on Mars. He was being serious and I started getting scared. He made me promise not to tell anyone. He said he told me all this because he loves me. He said if I told anyone both of us would be killed.”
The next entry was dated four days later.
“I’ve been putting up a good front but I’m a nervous wreck inside. I’m scared of Kevin. I’ve decided to go up the chain of command. Either way, if he’s just some kind of crazy liar or really an agent for a terrorist unit, my conscience is telling me I have to report it. I’m going to make a formal report to Staff Sgt. Ozawa tomorrow, and if he doesn’t take action, I’ll go to the platoon sergeant, then the PL, and all the way to the C.O. if I have to. I’ve made up mind. I’m going to Staff Sgt. Ozawa in the morning first thing after weapons turn in.”
It was her last entry.
Diego slipped the journal into his cargo pocket. He walked to a door at the other end of the room, opened it and stepped into a film studio. One wall was covered by a green screen. A metal chair sat in front of the screen. A robotic camera was pointed at the chair. Behind the camera was a control room that was empty and dark.
What looked like dried blood was splattered on the floor around the metal chair. Black body armor and rifles were stacked against the wall. Diego kicked the armor. It was made of plastic.
Diego picked up a large knife. The shiny blade was stained with blood and appeared sharp. Diego touched the tip. It was made of soft rubber.
He left the room and stepped back out into the hallway. He walked past the doors. A placard on one of the doors read, “Titan News Network Studio 7B.” Another read, “Moira. No unauthorized entry.” He heard voices up ahead and slipped into an open door. He had entered a dark studio. One side of the studio floor was alight.
“This is it, folks. The rebellion I’ve been warning about.”
Diego stood in the dark. Across the studio floor, Alan James sat at his desk in front of a pair of robotic cameras. A large screen behind him depicted the riot in front of the courthouse.
“The whole city is in flames. And while this is going on, I’m hearing from my sources that T-FORCE destroyed a mysterious ship on E
nceladus. The ship I’ve been telling you about, folks. Is the riot in Cassini City connected to the destruction of this mystery ship? The only thing that’s certain is they’re hiding the truth from us. It was a Reptilian ship, folks. Just like I’ve always said.”
Diego walked slowly across the studio floor watching James speak to the robotic cameras.
“Personally, I think this whole riot is a false flag. Agitators are stirring everyone up, trying to make us look like the bad guys. I’ve seen them. Agent provocateurs. Hijacking a peaceful protest and turning it into a riot so we’ll look like a bunch of looters and anarchists, so the government can declare martial law. Well, folks, I know who the real looters are. It’s the government. That’s who. And now I’m hearing riots have broken out in Huygenstown. This is serious stuff, folks.”
James noticed Diego standing beside one of the cameras.
“Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back after a quick commercial break.”
James reached under his desk, pulled a pistol and fired at Diego.
Diego ducked behind the camera as bullets shattered the camera lens and sparked off the back wall.
Diego pulled his pistol from its holster under his jacket.
James ran from his desk toward a door. Diego fired and winged him. James threw up his arms and fell sideways, groaning as he slid across the floor.
Diego walked up to him.
James was lying on his belly. He rolled over. His eyes went wide as he looked up at Diego standing over him. He reached for his pistol.
Diego pointed his pistol at James’s forehead. “Don’t do it.”
James left the pistol alone. He winced in pain. He showed Diego his empty palms.
“Call a paramedic. I’m bleeding out.”
“You’re controlled opposition.”
“You don’t have a clearance to be back here.”
“I’ve got a top-secret clearance.”
