The Daltus Conspiracy

by Andrew Gates

Rina let out a deep sigh and slowly nodded her head. She motioned to her office beyond the crowd of staff.

  “Sorry folks, Natalie wants to have a chat,” Rina said as she walked through the room. “Let’s all get back to work.”

  Some people muttered frustrated words around her, but Natalie ignored it all. She simply followed Rina to her office. Once inside, Natalie closed the door behind them both.

  “What was that about?” Rina asked, not wasting any time at all. “That celebration was for you!”

  “Sorry, I didn’t ask for a celebration like that. I didn’t really want it.”

  “Well what could be so important that you had to leave in the middle of it like that?”

  Natalie took a few steps forward and stopped before an empty chair.

  “Can I sit?” she asked.

  “Sure,” Rina said in an unenthusiastic tone. She motioned to the chair.

  Natalie sat down, though Rina remained standing.

  “I have a weird feeling about that footage,” Natalie explained. “It’s been on my mind for a while. I was hoping I could talk to you about it.”

  “A weird feeling? What weird feeling? The footage is great!”

  “Not a weird feeling about the footage itself, more like the circumstances around how I got the footage.”

  Rina leaned back against her desk and let out a deep breath. She lowered her head for a moment, as if getting mentally prepared, then met her gaze again.

  “The circumstances around how you got the footage,” Rina repeated. “What does that mean?”

  “I mean…” Natalie paused for a moment as she tried to think of the right words. “I mean, the guards just let me pass without a fuss.”

  “So?”

  “Well, that’s kind of weird, don’t you think? When’s the last time anyone from the military welcomed cameras?”

  “I admit, it’s rare, but this was a unique event. It’s not every day Corporal Ellen Milsen and David Cutter are captured,” Rina debated.

  “There have been unique events before. We’ve captured war criminals, driven pirates away, even stopped terrorists from blowing up this ship’s gravitation manipulator. Each time, the military fought to keep the press as far from the scene as possible.”

  “I suppose that’s true,” Rina admitted with an exhale. She stepped away from her desk and took a few steps toward Natalie. “So what?”

  “So, why would the military want footage of the pilots so badly?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “I think it does. Anything irregular matters. That’s our job, right? As journalists, we’re supposed to consider things that don’t add up.”

  “You’re a videographer. You capture picture.”

  “I’m a journalist,” Natalie challenged. “I’m more than just a camera.”

  “You think those people out there are cheering for your hard-hitting facts?” Rina chuckled and walked back to her desk again, this time choosing to sit down behind it. “Natalie, why can’t you just be proud of what you’ve accomplished and move on?”

  “Because this story may not be finished yet,” Natalie replied.

  Rina stared at her for a few seconds, then leaned back in her chair.

  “Let me show you something,” she said. Rina looked off in the distance for a few seconds, as if accessing something on the ATG. Only a few moments later, the wall to Natalie’s right lit up with the image of two men drunkenly fighting somewhere in the slums of Neo Taargus.

  “What’s this?” Natalie asked.

  “Before your footage got so popular, this was our number one video.”

  “I can see why,” Natalie said. “It’s engaging.”

  “Engaging, yes. But deep? No,” Rina said. Suddenly the image changed. Now a man stood behind a podium, addressing a crowd. “This footage, also captured by Thrace Center Press, is one of our least requested pieces. Here, the Chief of Operations for Vexa Corp’s Mining Division is announcing plans to cut 60% of the sentient workforce and replace it with low-cost non-sentient AI. He’s putting thousands out of work.”

  “That’s huge news!”

  “Huge, yes,” Rina agreed, “but is it engaging? No, not according to viewer data.”

  “But why? This news affects so many.”

  “Because a man is standing behind a podium rattling off numbers to a crowd,” Rina explained. “No matter how important it may be, nobody wants to see that. A drunken fight, however? Now that’s fun to watch.”

  The footage disappeared and the wall went back to its regular self. Rina stood up and leaned over the desk.

  “Your footage, the one everyone loves so much, it had it all: infamous criminals getting arrested, one resisting arrest and getting knocked out, all perfectly framed. That’s exciting! That’s the kind of shit people pay to see!” Rina sat back down now and straightened out her blazer. “Politics, numbers, data, corporate decisions, as important as they may be, they don’t make money.”

  “So that’s what’s important to you, then? The money?”

  “This is a business, Natalie. Of course money is important. Honestly, you should agree. If this company doesn’t make money, I don’t get paid, you don’t get paid, none of us get paid.”

  “Is that it, then? Are you just going to let this go? Vexa Corp’s military might be up to something.”

  “Let’s say, for sake of argument, I don’t let this go. Even if I did think there was something to this, which I don’t, you don’t have much to go on. The military let you get a good shot. So what? Where do you go from there? How do you make a story about that?”

  “I could start with the people holding the prisoners. Maybe I could talk to them and see if there’s anything strange going on.”

  “And then what?”

  “I don’t know. I would follow the next lead. Then the next. Then the next.”

  “And what if it ends? What if you find all the leads, but there’s no story?”

  “Then the worry on my mind will finally be put to rest.”

  Rina sighed. She looked down to her desk, then up to Natalie again.

  “You really want to pursue this, don’t you?” she finally asked. There was a tone of reluctance in her voice.

  “I do.”

  “You don’t seem to be giving up,” Rina noted. She grimaced, as if she already regretted what she was about to say next. “I suppose I can’t stop you, can I?”

  “No, ma’am.” Natalie proudly shook her head.

  “Well then, I hate to say this, but if you’re as determined as you appear, I guess there’s no point fighting anymore.”

  “Are you saying I can start digging?”

  “I’m saying I’ll allow it, for now. But this is on you and you alone. I am not going to help with any of your investigation, nor will anyone else on this staff.”

  “I understand,” Natalie replied. She stood up from the chair and felt a smile form across her face.

  “Back to work then, Natalie.” Rina turned away from her. “Sounds like you have a busy day ahead of you.”

  Digging

  Earth Date (Revised Julian Calendar): 04.23.5673

  Location: Prisoner Hold, Section 4, VSC Patriot, Outer edge of Thrace System, Vexa Corp Controlled Space

  Lyla placed her empty cup beneath the coffee dispenser. Warm liquid poured into it. The smell was exceptional. She could practically taste it already.

  “Another day, another dollar,” added Brenan with a sigh. The hulking man plopped down in a nearby chair and dropped his boxed lunch onto the breakroom table. Lyla had not even seen him enter the room.

  “What does that mean?” Lyla asked, turning to face her colleague.

  “What?”

  “Another day, another dollar,” she repeated.

  “Oh, it’s an ancient saying from Earth,” Brenan explained. “It basically means every day you work to make a living because you are always spending money. It’s like an endless cycle.”

  “I never took you for a history buf
f,” Lyla said, bringing the hot coffee to her lips. She savored the taste.

  “I’m not,” Brenan said. “I usually find history drab, but I picked up this expression somewhere. I like the sound of it. Don’t you?”

  “I don’t know. It sounds awfully pessimistic. I wouldn’t want to live that way, knowing that every day is just to get to the next,” Lyla replied.

  “Easy for you to say.” Brenan pointed to her. “With the money your mother makes, I’m guessing you wouldn’t understand.”

  “Watch it.” Lyla stared him down.

  “Sorry, I don’t mean to offend. I’m just saying, your perspective on finances, it must be… different.”

  There was an incoming communication request on the ATG. Lyla checked the source, someone named Natalie, a videographer with the TCP.

  “Hold on Brenan, as riveting as this conversation may be, I’ve got someone trying to contact me on the ATG,” Lyla said in a tone of sarcasm.

  “You’re not just saying that to get me to shut up, are you?” he asked.

  Lyla ignored the comment and took another sip of her coffee. She accepted the communications request and closed her eyes.

  This is Lyla.

  Hello Lyla, I hope you are doing well this afternoon, greeted the woman named Natalie. Her tone was kindhearted enough.

  Just a normal day at work, Lyla explained.

  Well, you know what they say, another day, another dollar.

  Lyla practically choked on her coffee. Of all things to say, she could not believe it.

  “You okay?” Brenan asked, prompting Lyla to open her eyes again. The man was now casually eating his lunch.

  “I’m fine,” she replied, dismissively. Lyla closed her eyes again and ignored him.

  My name is Natalie, the woman continued. I’m a reporter looking for an interview.

  It says videographer here, working with the Thrace Center Press. But since you claim to be a reporter, you should know interview requests are handled through the Department’s Press Office. We have people for this kind of thing.

  Call me new to this side of the job.

  New to being a reporter?

  You could say that.

  Well, new or not, you’re coming off as rather unprofessional.

  I understand you are the investigator working on the Milsen/Cutter case, Natalie continued without so much as a second’s hesitation.

  Who told you?

  You just told me, Natalie replied. But I had a good enough feeling. You’re the captain’s daughter. Of course they would put you on the big case.

  Well what do you want from me? Lyla just wanted this woman to make her point already.

  I want to talk to you.

  We’re talking now, aren’t we?

  I want to talk to you in detail, maybe meet somewhere, have a drink.

  You want to have a drink with me?

  If it means we can talk, Natalie replied.

  Lyla sighed and ran her fingers through her hair.

  Natalie, you should know this is all rather unusual.

  I know. I’m not a typical reporter.

  I can tell.

  Well, what do you say?

  You haven’t shared what it is we’ll be talking about yet.

  The case, of course.

  Lyla opened her eyes and downed the rest of the coffee in her cup as if it were water.

  You reach out to me personally over the ATG, ignoring all the regular channels, you trick me into finding out my case assignment, you barely tell me what you’re after. Give me one good reason why I should meet with you, Lyla demanded.

  Positive news coverage can be a powerful tool. Having public sympathy on your side goes a long way. Maybe it could help your investigation.

  What if your coverage isn’t positive?

  Think of it this way: if I don’t talk to you about the suspects, I’ll have to talk to someone else. And you wouldn’t want that person spinning the story against you, would you?

  Lyla tossed the empty coffee cup into the garbage and wiped her eyes. She could already sense her mother’s disapproval if that happened.

  Even if I wanted to talk to you, that decision is not up to me, she explained. The Department has rules about this sort of thing.

  Find out what your boss says. It doesn’t hurt to ask.

  Don’t be so hasty, Natalie. I haven’t even determined if I want to help you or not.

  Trust me. It’s to your benefit to talk to me.

  We’ll see about that.

  Should I give you a few days, then?

  A few days, Lyla replied. She promptly ended the communication.

  “What a bitch,” she said aloud as soon as the conversation was over.

  “Who’s a bitch?” Brenan asked, his mouth full of food.

  “Some incompetent reporter,” Lyla explained. “She didn’t even go through the Press Office. She just reached out to me on her own.”

  “That’s odd.”

  “Yeah, so I told her. I think she’s new.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “She told me she was new.”

  “Well, that settles that debate.” Brenan chuckled.

  “This isn’t funny. This means journalists are looking into my case. The last thing I want is people digging in my shit.”

  “Sorry, Lyla. I didn’t mean to offend,” Brenan said again. “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know,” Lyla replied, “but I’m sure my mother will have an idea.”

  ***

  Lyla rarely visited the bridge while her mother was on duty, but she enjoyed it whenever she came. There was something humbling about being on the bridge, seeing it all in action. Men and women sat at attention, combing through data, studying holograms and staring aimlessly into space as they connected to the ATG.

  Lyla passed through the bridge and proceeded to a small conference room on the other side. A white servitor with four arms opened the door for her.

  “Thank you,” Lyla said to the machine as she stepped into the small, rectangular room.

  The servitor entered behind her and pulled out a chair while pouring a glass of water at the same time. Lyla sat down and accepted the glass. She took a quick sip and placed it down on the table before her.

  “Thank you,” she said again, but by the time she turned around to face it, the servitor was already out the door.

  Suddenly Captain Daltus emerged from the far wall. Lyla practically spit out her water in disbelief.

  “Mother!” she said.

  “Relax, I’m not here to scare you,” the captain replied. She pulled out a chair at the opposite end of the table and sat down.

  “A holo-wall. Why did you put up a holo-wall?”

  “We were using this room for an interrogation earlier. We don’t usually like to use this space for things like that, but we do it from time to time.”

  “Is anyone else in the room with us? You know, someone hiding back there?”

  Daltus shook her head and turned to face the false wall. Only a few seconds later, it powered down, revealing another several feet of room. There was nobody there.

  “I apologize for the entrance. Like I said, I didn’t mean to scare you. Don’t worry, you have nothing to fear, least of all from me.”

  “Is this room secure?” Lyla asked, not wasting time.

  “Why do you insist on asking that whenever we meet? Of course the room is secure. I made sure of it,” the captain replied.

  “Sorry, I guess I’m a bit on edge,” Lyla admitted.

  “I figured as much. You sounded worried when you asked to meet with me. Is everything okay?”

  “It is, yes,” Lyla said. “And thank you, by the way, for meeting with me on such short notice.”

  “No need to thank me, Lyla. What is it you wanted to talk about?”

  There was no sense continuing with formalities. It was time to get right to it.

  “I was contacted by a reporter just now, or at least, someone claim
ing to be a reporter,” Lyla said.

  “Did the Press Office get this person in touch with you?”

  “No, she bypassed the usual channels. She contacted me directly.”

  “That’s bold,” Daltus said. She shifted in her chair.

  “I think she’s new,” Lyla replied. “In any case, she wants to speak with me about the investigation. She’s working on a story.”

  “That’s why the Press Office exists. They’re the link between the work you do and what the media spits out. If she wants a story, she can get it from the usual channels.”

  “I don’t think it’s as simple as that,” Lyla explained. “I get the sense she’s a digger. She’s looking for something, something more than what our office feeds to the press.”

  “Aah, one of those types,” Daltus said. “Do you know what she’s looking for?”

  “She wouldn’t say, but I’m worried she’s onto us.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Why would she dig otherwise?” Lyla asked.

  “You said she might be new,” Daltus replied. “Maybe she doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

  “True. On one hand, you could be right. Maybe we should just ignore her.”

  “I sense a but coming on,” Daltus said.

  “But on the other hand, if she is onto us, if she finds out that we’re pinning the blame on Milsen and Cutter just to improve company morale and better our own careers, then that’s going to hit us hard.”

  “And what makes you so sure she is capable of finding that information?”

  “She said if I don’t want to talk to her, she’ll find someone else to talk to. I get the sense she’s putting a lot of effort into this and she’s going to publish her story no matter what. If I refuse her interview, we don’t want this someone else to say something damaging.”

  “So you want to control the story? Is that what you’re saying?” Daltus asked.

  “Maybe. I guess so. I’m not really sure,” Lyla admitted. “I was hoping you could tell me.”

  Daltus smiled and leaned forward in her chair. The medals on her captain’s uniform gleamed in the artificial light from the ceiling.

  “After all these years, you still trust your mom’s advice.” The captain chuckled. “I guess somethings never change with age.”