by M. D. Hall
She followed her host into the rooms and was reminded of their opulence, furnished as they were with magnificent items, not only from Te’ath, but all the subjugated worlds. Ships of the line commanders had their choice of the spoils of war, before the official inventory was prepared. However, unknown to them, and long before the military had even arrived on the scene, the Agency had carried out their own assessment of what was of outstanding value. Provided it did not detract from the greater Te’an good - as determined by the Agency - selected examples found their way into the homes of the Agency heads and certain favoured agents. Tala had yet to be the recipient of such largesse but, she told herself, there’s plenty of time for that.
Her mentor was sitting behind a very large desk holding a goblet fashioned wholly from sapphire. He was swirling the contents while looking up at his protégé, a glint in his eyes.
Tala knew how much he enjoyed imbibing a drink pressed from tanire berries originating on Lotarl IV. Whilst not an intoxicant, it had the effect of clearing the mind, due to an enzyme present in the skin of the berry. It had achieved a following over recent years due to differing methods of extraction, and a sub genus of the berries producing subtly different tastes and aromas. She also knew, the Avatar would have no desire for such a drink. It may taste the liquid, but any reaction would be studied, unnatural. Looking over to her left she saw the machine replica taking its place, several paces from the desk, silently awaiting its master’s command. She advanced towards her old teacher, and held out her hand. He reacted with a bemused look. ‘The goblet, if you don’t mind?’ she asked, smiling.
Garnoth rose from his chair, walked around the desk and handed Tala the precious item. Lifting the goblet towards her face and gently swirling the liquid, she bent her head towards the now sluggishly moving contents, closed her eyes and inhaled deeply through her nose. Pausing for a few moments, she allowed the vapour to completely dispel. Upon opening her eyes, she ignored Garnoth and walked over to the Avatar, proffering the goblet.
The machine eyed her warily before taking the object. ‘Do you like it, Tala?’
‘You know I can't stand the stuff, but I concede it’s excellent, for what it is.’
‘How did you know?’ he asked.
‘You made it too easy. Sitting at your desk with your favourite tipple was rather obvious.’
Garnoth shook his head and smiled, ruefully. ‘Perhaps I am getting too old?’
‘Or perhaps I know you too well,’ she replied, before realising she had just voiced a dangerous observation. He gave no indication that he noticed, but as Tala knew, nothing escaped his attention. She would need to be wary. For all their closeness, he remained the most lethal Te'an alive. It had been foolish to suggest, even in jest, that uncovering his ploy was anything more than her astuteness. Garnoth would know she had realised her mistake. The incident would remain between them, for if the merest hint of him being less than perfect escaped that room, the plots would begin, swiftly followed by a bloodbath, albeit one of which no one outside the Agency would be aware, and her blood would be amongst the first to be spilt.
He motioned her towards a couch, not made for humans, but supremely comfortable for all that. They sat close enough to touch, but not too close. She was not offered refreshment as they both knew she was there on business, and he wanted her full attention. ‘You are aware of our interest in G/48/3/9?’ It would be difficult for her not to know. Even before the fabled Gallsor incident, the Agency had applied significant resources in its search for alternatives to direct conquest. A handful of non-emergent races made up a special shortlist, and Garnoth had taken personal control of the enterprise.
It was Gallsor that led, indirectly, to her being chosen by Garnoth. He had been particularly stricken by the loss of two of his operatives when the Balg destroyed their spy ship at Gallsor. If they were mentored by Garnoth, they would have been the best in the Agency. While the names of the lost agents were unknown to most Te’ans, everyone within the Agency was expected to know the names of Garnoth's acolytes: Agrion and Liron. If he ever wanted to make reference to an exemplar, their names were interchangeable. Then, three years ago, she had been singled out by Garnoth for special attention. She had often wondered since, what caused him to choose her? More importantly, during her musings, she queried whether it was something she really wanted, especially as she was the ninth he had guided, and of her predecessors, none were now living.
She returned to the present, and inwardly admitted she would never have guessed G/48/3/9 to be the reason for the summons. It was the third planet of eight - the catalogue included a small object at the outer edge of the system that was neither a planet, nor a moon - in the forty-eighth star system from Te’ath, within segment G.
None of the inhabitants of the shortlisted planets would want to be there. If they were unlucky, they would be chosen to be the subjects of an attempted circumvention of the Accords, and that meant slavery, but most likely, death.
She awaited the pronouncement, subjugating the excitement that threatened to consume her.
‘We have chosen G/48/3/9, and you will head up the venture,’ he paused just long enough for the import of what he had said to sink in, looking at her as though hoping to find something to justify his decision. ‘You have kept yourself up to date on the planet?’
She nodded. There were six target planets on the list, and she had assiduously kept abreast of developments on all of them. Of all the targets, she had a fondness for G/48/3/9, Telluria, known by the indigenous peoples, as Earth. The reward for satisfactorily completing such a mission would be a rich and pleasurable retirement on any planet of her choosing. Once this planet had been cleared and prepared for habitation, she could see herself retiring to a villa near to what the Tellurians called the Mediterranean Sea. But she was getting ahead of herself, any such dreams were a long way off, and only now was the responsibility of the assignment beginning to dawn on her.
Garnoth produced from a pocket in his robes, a small pebble like object, a galet, which would contain all the information she would need to complete her mission. ‘Your second,’ he began, ‘is…’ and here there was an unexpected pause, not for effect or to drive home a point. He paused because he was genuinely unsure what to say.
Tala looked at him quizzically, and his momentary hesitation dissolved. ‘Your second is, Beron.’
‘Beron?’ Tala’s eyes narrowed. ‘He’s a fool.’ Garnoth was impressed that her voice remained even, showing restraint and control. He knew she was furious, and he fully understood why. Beron was a son of Vaaris, one of the most influential men on the Supreme Council. Yet, unlike his brother who was a rising star, not unlike Tala, he was unsuited to the work of the Agency. He was a brute who, as a cadet, had taken up the option in his final year, to genetically enhance his strength and speed, in readiness for joining other brutes in a shock troop battalion. He spoke rarely, and on first meeting him, some took this to be a sign of deep intelligence. It did not take long for them to realise their mistake.
Unfortunately, Beron’s father used his influence to steer him into the Agency. Garnoth could have stopped the move, bringing him into open conflict with Vaaris, but there was nothing to be gained from that. It also occurred to him that, with both brothers in the Agency, careful manoeuvring could give him a distinct advantage over Vaaris. Now was such a moment, provided Tala saw sense.
Still calm on the outside, she had equalised her internal feelings. ‘Why not his brother?’
‘He is too clever, too dangerous, and his loyalty lies elsewhere. Their father intended one of them to be on mission, and I suspect he favoured Nirjan.’ Tala was forced to smile, Vaaris would certainly have wanted Beron’s brother. Garnoth returned the smile softly. ‘Unfortunately, Nirjan was called away to oversee one of the other potential targets. Left with no other choice, Vaaris was forced to select a more blunt instrument. I was able to convince the Council, of your suitability to be lead operative; enough of them are aware of Beron’s
limitations,’ the spymaster paused, and for a moment his eyes wandered before they came to rest on his former student. ‘I may as well be frank with you. As this mission requires meticulous execution, my preference was to have two more experienced, albeit pedestrian, operatives. Whatever else you may hear, I am convinced the Custodians are still watching, and waiting for us to slip up; untested operatives are a more risky proposition.’
‘Then why choose me?’ she asked.
‘Because, my dear,’ he placed his hands on his thighs as though seeking additional support, ‘Beron was a given, and I know of no one who can control him like you. It seems, for reasons I cannot fathom, that his unrequited feelings for you tend to make him subservient to your will, or at least more susceptible to your wishes.’
Tala sighed, and sank into the yielding back of the couch. ‘I suppose we have to take what opportunities present themselves,’ eyes brightening, she added, ‘and it’s unlikely I’ll ever get a chance like this again.’
‘I knew I had made the right choice,’ Garnoth smiled approvingly, before adopting a more serious look. ‘It will make your job all the harder, but you must watch his every move. Too much is riding on this mission for it to be jeopardised, by anyone.’
She nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. If presented with a choice, the mission had to succeed, even if it meant Beron not returning. Making that choice would earn the enmity of his father, but with Garnoth as protector, the threat posed by Vaaris would be neutralised, even members of the Supreme Council had been known to have accidents.
Ω
Formalities over, Garnoth instructed the Avatar to bring in refreshments, and in a very short time they had finished with the food and were cradling their drinks.
With the Avatar sitting out of her line of sight, Garnoth outlined the mission. Details were not his forte, all the minutiae were on the galet. ‘We face immense difficulties in seeking to circumvent the Accords. To ensure success, it has been decided that all our resources must be concentrated on a single planet, one which carries the least amount of risk, G/48/3/9. We cannot afford to fail, if the three thousand year old message is to be believed, our very existence is at stake.
‘You will be aware of the struggles the Tellurians face. Being human, they share many of our faults. Unlike us, however, they are set on a slow decline towards extinction. We do not have the luxury of waiting for their natural demise, which will take much longer than the time we have at our disposal. Desperate for a speedy solution to all their problems, with a gentle push in the right direction, they will readily consign themselves to oblivion.
‘A fractured, suspicious people, we cannot take the risk of introducing ourselves as benevolent visitors, many of them would reject us, out of fear and mistrust. We must slip in through the back door, as it were. What I want from you is quite simple…how do we achieve our aim?’
Tala took a sip of her drink, while Garnoth's face remained impassive; he was testing whether she knew as much about this race, as she would have him believe. Hoping the panic, beginning to well up inside her, was unnoticed, she launched into her presentation. ‘A mixture of disparate peoples, what appeals to some, will positively alienate others. They’re more complex than the other five races we’ve studied, but I suspect you’re aware of this difference, and there’s a good reason we’re targeting Telluria?’
He simply nodded.
The reason this planet had been chosen, was not going to be divulged. All she could glean from her mentor’s silent acknowledgment, was that the greater powers knew the venture against Telluria was fraught with difficulties, yet discounted the logistically, preferable choices. She had her own theory, and Garnoth would want to hear it before she was finished. The risks were huge, if she was wrong, he would rethink the appointment, whatever the Council’s views. She ploughed on. ‘Generally, but not universally, Tellurians are suspicious of apparent benevolence, but one thing they have in common with most beings we’ve met, they’re at their most vulnerable when afraid.’
Garnoth glanced at the Avatar, before looking back at Tala with what seemed to be heightened interest. ‘Continue, my dear.’
Sensing she was on the correct track, she laid her solution before him, then paused to give him the opportunity to savour her analysis, but also to tease him into asking for the final part of her plan.
‘You are developing a cruel streak, Tala. You would have an old man ask?’ His smile belying the question.
‘Of course not,’ and here her voice became more authoritarian as the final piece of the puzzle was laid before him.
‘I am impressed, I did not know that you had made such an in depth study, of my work,’ he did, of course. ‘You are satisfied this is within the Accords?’
‘I am.’
There was no hint of artifice in the spymaster’s smile. ‘With your permission, I will gather the operatives who will add substance to your ephemera. You will let them know what you require, and their work will be subject to your approval. Will that suffice?’
Tala was genuinely surprised by his reaction. ‘I’m flattered you’re prepared to accede so readily, to my plan,’ it seemed he was content not to ask the last question.
‘My dear,’ he smiled at her with genuine warmth, ‘as you said, you have been around me too long.’ He glanced at the galet lying on the table. She picked it up, and turning her hand, displayed the object nestled in her upturned palm. Forming the thought that she wanted to see its contents, a screed of symbols were arrayed before her. Nothing was said by either of them, as the data cascaded before her. Some minutes later the silence was broken by the soft sound of Tala exhaling. What she had read was almost, but not quite, everything she had just described to Garnoth. The old fox had listened to what she had to say, when it simply echoed his own thoughts. She looked at him and raised her eyebrows.
‘You have yet to tell me why they are suitable above the other five races?’ he prompted.
The last question, the question that could unseat her from the mission, the question she hoped he had forgotten. ‘Because, none of the others are as vulnerable, they’re more cohesive, they don’t need us, and so there’s little we can offer them.’
‘What else?’
‘The introduction of the pivotal event won't work with the other races. They all have settlements on neighbouring planets within their local star systems. We only have the resources to concentrate on one target, and to expend them on one of the other five is too great a risk.’
The spymaster’s eyes reflected his agreement. Her place on the mission was secure.
Ω
The two plotted and planned through the night and well into the next day, without rest. By the time they were finished, it was agreed; to ensure success, the project would take over six years.
As Telluria was divided into separate nations, the point of insertion needed to be in the most powerful of those nations. Any communication with the governing powers would be fraught with difficulty, which meant the only viable means of ingress was through a manufactured legal entity, Tellurians called a corporation. There was a history of such organisations developing new technologies and, through them, influencing how governments worked and acted. The entity created for this purpose would introduce innovations beyond anything Tellurians thought possible, and the potential for influence would be virtually unlimited. While it was in the nature of governments to act slowly, the pivotal event would take care of that problem.
Garnoth showed Tala the results of observations taken over the past twenty-four years. The information was new to her, and inwardly she marvelled at the prescience of her mentor. The data included recent, exhaustive studies of three potential candidates to head their corporation, and her attention kept returning to one in particular. She made her choice.
When Garnoth asked her to justify her decision, she found it easy. The person chosen needed the ability to cut through administrative red tape, with a sphere of influence unrivalled by any of the other candidates. Two of th
em were virtually indistinguishable, but only one satisfied her final condition, a condition based upon a fact of which he was totally ignorant.
From that moment, Tala and Garnoth were inseparable. No further demands were placed on her time by anyone within the Agency, and it was implicit between them that Beron was not to be involved, until shortly before their departure for Telluria. Each had their own reasons: Garnoth feared what Beron might report to his father; while Tala was convinced, the more Beron knew, the more opportunities he had to mess up.
It was surprisingly simple to set up the infrastructure upon which their corporation was to be based. As for their physical movements? While they had been unable to master successful cloaking techniques against other, highly advanced civilisations - a constant source of irritation to the Navy - the technology they possessed was more than enough to hide them from their quarry. Added to which, Tellurians were an unobservant race, so concerned with squabbles and political infighting, they would be unable to see clearly what was going on around them. Fooling them would not be difficult.
Ω
Six years ago
The home of Jaron
As was tradition in military households, children followed their parents, first into the Academy, then into the Navy.
On this day, the sons of Jaron and Bakir were no exception.
It was customary, on the eve of academy induction, for initiates to be given the freedom of their local towns.
On this day, the sons of Jaron and Bakir were no exception.
It was also customary for parents to advise their sons and daughters on the unspoken rules of the Academy.
On this day, the sons of Jaron and Bakir were to be an exception.
Genir, only son of retired Commander Jaron and his wife, Ciarra; and Gorn, youngest son of retired Commander Bakir and his wife, Cyrar, would depart for the Academy the next day, leaving their childhood behind them. Jaron, Ciarra and Cyrar agreed - Bakir was no longer part of their lives - that the two young men needed to hear something far more important than the avoidance of minor infractions at the Academy, but it could wait until after the evening festivities.
