“The first time we encountered one of them was on Herros, right at the start of all of this. Everyone was missing from Gemen Station, but we did find one person there. She was an outsider called Amarist Naeb. Although we didn’t know it at the time she was missing from a geological survey effort in the Deep Shadows.”
“That would be the one based on CC-60125-E?” Asked Silane Creid’s hologram.
“That’s the one… we just called it Echo. Anyway Naeb was alive, but passive and unresponsive. On Fort Kosling, she was examined and found to have two peculiarities: one, her immune system was in chaos; two, scans showed unusual structures in her brain.
“At some point while I was off the station, Naeb began to act differently. I’m told she managed to get from the medical bay to the dry docks, causing significant damage on the way. She commandeered the Hector and used it to blast her way to freedom. Kosling was fucked after that.”
Across the desk from Caden, March Bel-Askis — the only other real person in the Fort Herses holographic chamber — tutted loudly.
“Sorry,” said Caden. “I’ve been spending entirely too much time amongst our MAGA friends.”
“Do continue,” said Bel-Askis.
“Later I located some of the weapons stolen from Herros, cached and guarded by a mixture of humans and Viskr. I believe they were all Rasas, humans and Viskr alike. They were led by a man called Medran Morlum, abducted from the same survey team as Amarist Naeb. Now here’s the interesting part — he was an unwilling participant. He himself said he was like Naeb, but also that he was resistant in some way. He could think for himself, he could disobey… they had to chaperone him.”
Sashan Geneve coughed politely. “Sorry — who are ‘they’ exactly?”
“I’m getting to that. Trust me when I say this all makes more sense if it’s in the right order. Throughout my investigation, and in entirely different locations, I encountered large numbers of civilians who were acting strangely. I now suspect that they were in the initial stages of whatever it was that affected Naeb and Morlum.”
“It’s very worrying to hear you have come to that conclusion, Shard Caden,” said Bel-Askis. “We too have come to suspect that that is the case.”
“I’m afraid it gets more worrying still. A few days ago I sought to locate Doctor Bel-Ures, whom I believed might be able to help me understand what happened on Herros. She was already being hunted by none other than Gordl Branathes, one of your own monitors. He was a Rasa, like Amarist Naeb, and I have no idea for how long that fact evaded your detection.”
Bel-Askis glanced at the holograms of his peers before replying. “Yes, we noted that troubling revelation in your written report. You may rest assured that it resonated at every level.”
“There’s more. Branathes was not just a stooge. He was like a container for another consciousness, something intelligent and hostile. I called it Voice.”
“Do you think this ‘Voice’ is perhaps the ’they’ to which Morlum referred?” Geneve asked. “Are you saying Voice controls the Rasas?”
“Possibly, although it also seems that Voice is allied with this unknown species which is attacking us. Voice called them ‘Shaeld Hratha’, which is what Morlum said when I asked him who was in charge. It’s not clear if Voice is working for the Shaeld, if they are working for Voice, or if they are all one and the same thing. But I can tell you this: those dreadships didn’t arrive at Meccrace Prime until the body Voice occupied had died.”
“Your inference is sound: Voice is probably connected to the dreadships in some fashion,” said Creid. “The simplest explanation is that he is the most subtle weapon in their armoury.”
“That may well be the case, but I have to say that I found his attitude to be superior and contemptuous. He didn’t strike me as another’s tool.”
“Some kind of conduit then? A means for the Shaeld Hratha to interact in our society?”
“It seems likely. Voice claimed he would still have Branathes’ knowledge even if the body was killed. Also, he said ‘there are many more bodies like this one’, suggesting to me that he can occupy Rasas at will.”
“This is all most disturbing,” said Bel-Askis. He shook his head ruefully.
“I should say I’m not so sure Voice was telling the truth. If — as he claimed — he would retain the information from Branathes’ body after its death, and take control of another body, why send whole dreadships to occupy the surface of Meccrace Prime? Why concentrate that attack on the Eyes and Ears building? Was that always going to happen anyway? And if Voice could retrieve information from a Rasa at any given time, why would Amarist Naeb leave Kosling? She could have stayed to gather more intelligence. Morlum too; Voice should have known he would be betrayed.”
Geneve’s hologram leaned forwards. “So you think Voice lied?”
“I suspect it. I think he was probably trying to make himself seem more… omnipotent than he really is. To make us fear him. Make us panic.”
Geneve sat back again, her hologram bristling electronically as if it shared her disquiet. She looked around at the other invigilators — at the holograms arrayed before her at Fort Sol — and shook her head slowly.
The invigilators began to confer, as Caden had expected they would. Some tapped messages to each other, some took part in the verbal debate. He noticed that while only a handful had spoken with him, every one of the many holograms in the conference chamber was trying to contribute something, trying to make some point or other to their colleagues.
Eyes and Ears and Mouths, he thought.
When Bel-Askis began to speak again, his voice rising above the murmur of the general discourse, Caden jerked in his seat. He had almost drifted away into his own world.
“It should come as no surprise to you, Shard Caden, that while Fleet Command is busying itself with trying to understand the technology and tactics of the Shaeld Hratha, we are focusing almost exclusively on the Rasas. From our point of view they are the agents of the enemy, the hands and eyes and mouths,” — ironic, thought Caden — “and so they are of course our primary concern.”
“Of course. Intelligence and counter-espionage being your one and only game.”
“Quite. Now you may be very interested to know what we have learned of the Rasas.”
“You’re not wrong,” said Caden.
“Based on what we have learned so far, and what you have told us yourself, we are confident that there may be four distinct categories of Rasa. There are those passive slaves such as the civilians you encountered, and the minions used as — for want of a better word — soldiers: we shall call those people Thralls. Then there are those like Amarist Naeb, whom we shall give the title they deserve: Sleepers. Those capable of holding on to their own thoughts we must consider to be Anomalies. Finally, any Rasa agent exhibiting the characteristics of this ‘Voice’ you identified will be regarded as a Mouthpiece.”
“You’ve… named things?”
“Merely a formality,” said Bel-Askis. “Terms of reference, that’s all. Let’s move on to biology.”
Caden sat bolt upright.
“Doctor Laekan’s data from her examination of Amarist Naeb was destroyed on Kosling, but the early data from the Vavilov is quite clear: all of the humans captured on Woe Tantalum have unusual structures in their brains.”
“And the Viskr?” Caden asked.
“Their brain structure is different to ours anyway,” said Bel-Askis, “but we believe they too have some unusual features. We will need co-operation from Viskr scientists before we can draw any real conclusions there.”
“Good luck with that,” said Creid.
Bel-Askis ignored him and continued. “High resolution imaging shows that the structures appear to bridge two areas of the brain; the prefrontal cortex, and the superior parietal lobule. Our researchers have been unable to determine what the new structures actually do, but suggest that they are inserting some additional functionality between those regions. There are significantly high num
bers of new connections to the precuneus in all cases.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know what that is,” said Caden.
“Neither did I,” Bel-Askis admitted. He looked down at a holo before him. “Amongst other things it plays some roles in notions of self, and working consciousness.”
“That could explain a lot.”
“Quite. Also of note is a vastly elevated level of astrocytes around the new structures — that is, star-shaped glial cells.”
“Why is that of note?”
“I’m not sure. Just what I’ve been told, and I have faith in the expertise of our scientists.”
“I see. Well it’s pretty obvious that the Rasas behave the way they do as a result of changes to their brain structure.” Caden looked straight at Creid. “Does anyone dispute that?”
“No,” said Creid.
The others shook their heads and murmured their agreement.
“So how was this done?”
Bel-Askis swiped a finger across his holo. “Well, there is no evidence whatsoever that it was through surgical means. The researchers on Vavilov suspect these changes were engineered by a biological agent, most likely a virus.”
“Go on,” said Caden.
“You mentioned earlier that Amarist Naeb’s immune system was in chaos.”
“Yes, I did.”
“And by that you meant…?”
“She was recovering from some kind of systemic infection. From the way the corpsman on Fort Kosling described it to me, I took her to mean that the infection itself was gone, and Naeb’s immune response was still in the process of gearing down.”
“The teams on Vavilov also did a lot of blood analysis on your prisoners from Woe Tantalum,” Bel-Askis said, leaning towards him. “They were all in such a condition.”
“What do you mean?”
“Antibodies,” said Bel-Askis. “They all had the same antibodies. No sign of any unknown pathogens, but elevated levels of white blood cells.”
“Antibodies for what?”
“We don’t yet know. The science teams posted to Vavilov are all good at what they do, but only a few of them can actually do the work needed to run protein complementation tests. It’s coming along very slowly, and if the pathogen that prompted the antibodies is not in the database then those tests will yield no answer.”
“But the implication is clear,” said Creid. “Every Rasa we have examined shows signs that they were infected with something, so—”
“—so the theft of those warheads from Gemen Station is starting to make sense.”
Caden finished the thought for Creid, and looked around at the faces of the holograms at the conference table. They stared back in silence.
“Exactly,” said Creid.
“But Naeb and Morlum… they were infected before the warheads were stolen. Hell, they stole the damned things…” Caden trailed off, thought to himself for a moment. “No, of course: you don’t need a warhead to make a single Rasa. You start small and work your way up.”
“That’s right,” said Geneve. “You don’t infect an individual with an atmospheric warhead, Shard Caden. You infect a planet.”
The room was quiet for another long moment.
“Proposition,” said Creid. “The Shaeld Hratha made a small number of Rasas by some unknown biological process, and placed them strategically so as to steal the warheads. They will now use those warheads to deliver that same process on a planetary scale, and make many more Rasas.”
“And do what with them?” All eyes turned to Quisten Leksis. “Far be it for me to dispute your proposition, Invigilator Creid, but no series of logical steps — no matter how well-reasoned — will tell us anything of use if it does not lead to an understandable goal.”
There was a long pause before Creid answered, and Caden sensed in the man’s tone that Leksis was something of a rival to him.
“That may well be the case, but our whole purpose is to calculate any such goals. We will not achieve that by waiting for inspiration to visit us.”
Caden heard the edge in his voice, and intervened.
“The problem as I see it is that we have only really seen the Rasas acting individually, as tools,” he said. “We also need to understand them as a group.”
“Incisive,” said Bel-Askis. “Do you have any observations to offer in that area?”
“I don’t know what it means, but there is something which connects a lot of the unusual people and events I have encountered. It’s… it’s a piece of music.”
“Music?” Creid said. His tone suggested he found the very idea risible.
“Well, not so much music as a harmony. Mournful, other-worldly. I’ve been hearing it everywhere.”
Creid sneered. “Are you sure it was real?”
“I can assure you I did not imagine it. Amarist Naeb hummed that harmony while she was on Kosling. If you don’t believe me, I imagine the surveillance records might now have been recovered from what’s left of the fortress.”
“I’m not sure we can really devote the time to finding out,” said Creid.
Leksis shot Creid’s hologram a look of disdain. “Is there anything else you can tell us, Shard Caden?”
“Yes — a phrase I’ve heard several times now. ‘Fill the Silence’. I don’t know what it means, but it seems odd that it should be uttered by people who are all seemingly obsessed with a particular tune.”
“Perhaps we will come back to that.” Creid’s hologram rolled its eyes.
“It means something, I know it does. It was the only thing Amarist Naeb said to me, and I also heard it on Aldava. And several of the people I encountered there hummed the same harmony I heard from her. That can’t be pure coincidence. I know coincidences occur all the time, but in this case I’m not convinced it’s that simple.”
“Speculation,” said Creid. “Nothing more.”
“What if he’s right?” Leksis asked. “This harmony could be a… an identifier. Or perhaps a carrier signal. The phrase ‘Fill the Silence’ might be an instruction. ‘Time to tune in’, something like that.”
“Just more speculation.”
“Is it though?” Caden asked. “We know that Rasas are basically people who have been hijacked somehow; there must be a mechanism for that.”
Bel-Askis drummed his fingers on the desk and scrutinised Caden without expression. When he began to speak, slowly and deliberately, Caden was left with the impression that the elderly invigilator was choosing his words very, very carefully.
“What else did you witness on Aldava, Shard Caden?”
“From the people there? They spoke to us as we left. Individually, in different locations, but everything that was said seemed as though it was one continuous speech. Just… delivered in pieces, by different mouths.”
“What did they say?” Geneve asked.
“Something along the lines of asking if we got what we came for, that what we were doing there was everyone’s business, telling us we didn’t have to do anything…”
“Nothing of any real consequence then,” said Creid.
“On the contrary,” Caden said. “I now think it was Voice speaking, and I think he was trying to judge what we knew. Probing the level of threat we posed.”
Caden noticed Creid was no longer looking at him, but at Bel-Askis. As he followed Creid’s gaze, he saw the older man break eye contact with Creid’s hologram.
“You all know something about Aldava, don’t you?”
Nobody replied.
“It was you who told Fleet to glass the planet.”
Silence.
“Yes, I know about that. I’m also confident that your organisation ordered the glassing of Woe Tantalum, then lied about what happened there.”
Bel-Askis sighed slowly, an exhalation which carried with it the tension of a secret long-held.
“You are truly a credit to the reputation of the Shards, Caden.”
“I know. Would you like to explain exactly why you have been destroying Im
perial worlds?”
“Because we had exhausted all other options,” Bel-Askis said. There was defeat in his voice.
“This explanation had better be good,” Caden said. His skin was beginning to feel too small for his body, his eyes prickled, his scalp tightened, the room was too hot.
“You know, it wasn’t always called Woe Tantalum,” Creid said. “When the colonists planted their first buildings and beheld their new home, they called it Parable Light.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Bear with me. The colony was never sanctioned by the Empire. For a number of reasons, they told them not to build there. Too far out, dangerous neighbours, no gates planned for those systems, and so on and so forth.
“But the colonists persisted. They built and they built. They were clever in their alliances and brought in contractors from the Empire, despite all the red tape and embargoes that the Home Council threw at them. And eventually they made a beautiful, clean, productive colony, with a capital modelled on the Imperial ideal and several thriving townships.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because it’s important that you understand the Imperial Combine recognised the colony was a success, despite the warnings, and despite the obstacles the founders faced. Parable Light was a shining example of the entire ethos of the colonial frontier, and had it survived it would have spurred on the colonisation push in that region for decades. It was intended that Parable Light would be reincorporated officially, and given the full support of the Empire.”
“So what went wrong?” Caden asked. “How did the Empire go from admiration of a colony world, to orbital bombardment?”
“There was an outbreak,” said Bel-Askis.
“Wildfire,” Creid added.
“It was like nothing we had encountered before,” Bel-Askis said. “It consumed the population within days, and we struggled to keep it contained. We lost contact with every medical team we sent down there. When Fleet finally told us they were considering shooting down the ships leaving the surface, we realised we had already lost control. We would never keep everyone on the planet. It was only the fact that the system had no gate of its own that prevented a catastrophe.”
Books One to Three Omnibus (Armada Wars) Page 65