The Sacred Protocol

by Hylton Smith

  *

  Butragueno looked around the restaurant and reflected on how long it had been since she had enjoyed such indulgence. Manuel ordered a bottle of spring water after she had insisted she didn’t want an alcoholic beverage. “I got the feeling from what you said at the lab that you are prepared for the results.”

  “Indeed I am. I believe I can predict the outcome very accurately.” She was hooked.

  “If that’s the case, are you able to talk about it? I mean the results will soon be available to me.”

  He flashed a smile again and said, “Why not? The results themselves are not the full story. It’ll become clear that Konrad was not my full brother, we only share the same father.”

  Butragueno gambled. “That doesn’t seem so earth-shattering, why would that be the burden you referred to earlier?”

  He said that was for others to figure out. “Of course I would be open to trade information if there is a suitable opportunity.”

  She changed the conversation while she contemplated Duarte’s irregular proposal to tell Manuel she was going to Barcelona, and with a hint as to why. She went to the restroom to refresh her appearance and use the timeout to re-settle her hormones. Having learned a little about his regular job during the first course she began the ritual dance of trading information. “Don’t you think this assignment you have mentioned can get you into serious difficulty? I know you want to make amends for failing your half-brother, but it seems as if your father has a bigger cross to bear in that respect.”

  He took his time in responding. “My father only pretended to help him, just as he’s pretending now to be distraught about the result of our shared inactivity.”

  She kept digging. “That’s one hell of an accusation. Not helping one’s son is strange but faking grief at their death is difficult to comprehend.”

  “El, I could blow my father’s career, which is all he really cares about, into oblivion. His animal cunning has cleverly leveraged Konrad’s and my own feelings for my mother, and the collateral damage she would take in any disclosure.”

  She felt it would come across as pretty cheap to launch into swapping information; it had to come from him. She had one eye on having meaningful company in Barcelona. “I can see this is an intensely personal and painful subject for you. Am I being too intrusive by asking if Konrad knew Senora Salina was not his mother?” He shook his head.

  “That’s what is so mind-numbingly sad about our entire lives, as a family in Madrid. We were all living a lie except Konrad.”

  She really wanted to ask about when and how he knew about this, especially as he was only two years older than his half-sibling. She decided to stop the work-related chess and just concentrate on this social evening and the genuine sympathy he attracted. She did want to know more but as a friend. “I hope the weather is better in Barcelona.”

  “Oh, are you going on vacation?”

  She smiled and said she had changed her mind. “I think I will have some wine, could you suggest a suitable one to get me in the mood for Catalonia?”

  “Sure. And lucky you, Ramblas should be pretty this time of year. When do you leave?”

  “Soon, but it isn’t really a vacation. I shouldn’t be disclosing this to you, I hardly know you at all. I am to make some enquiries there.”

  His eyes lit up. “I knew it; there is substance to Konrad’s claims.”

  “It is too early to tell if that is the case, but it’s also true that there could be missing answers simply because questions have not been asked. We don’t want to fall into that category.”

  “Are you able to tell me more?” She looked directly into his eyes and with a rebellious sparkle in her own, invited him.

  “No, but I can’t stop you from asking the same questions in Barcelona.”

  *

  Back at his hotel Manuel was preparing his approach to Sorin Gretz the following day. He was also intrigued by shadowing Butragueno in Barcelona. He would not mention this to Gretz until he was certain it was going to happen.

  *

  Meanwhile Duarte was at home, but in receipt of Senora Salina’s horror, drafted by Olmeda, at even the suggestion of disfiguring her son’s head. It was impressively worded to amplify the emotional distress this would cause. It also contained bold reference to his decision of suicide and although they actually ‘knew’ the request was from Pierze, they strenuously hoped he could persuade the appellant to withdraw the request – mentioning no name. Failing this, a legal challenge would be lodged with the coroner. Duarte smiled philosophically and his young son asked him why he was talking to himself. The smile creased further to a smirk, accompanied by the sentiment – ‘you have what you want Pierze, I hope you were careful in what you wished for’.

  *

  The next day was heralded with a news announcement. It should not have surprised them; in fact it wasn’t only logical but pretty much inevitable. Orient had launched a landing party to the Moon. Since their first lunar expedition they had grown ever more disenchanted with Iberia for continual downgrading of their pledge to finance the colonisation programme. The sell out to SACRED was the last straw. The announcement was appropriately undiplomatic in spelling out the agreed need to cope with population expansion, which was running ahead of prediction. As Orient was more acutely impacted by their closed and limited living area, they branded the SACRED decision as self-serving and cynically engineered to support objectives of political subversion. This fighting talk overshadowed the preceding logic of the prior obligation of Iberia and its abandonment. Duarte was probably the least disturbed of the protagonists involved in the case. He also saw an opportunity for mischief.

  When he followed Manuel to the airport he was careful to change his appearance to avoid detection by his target, but also by any of Pierze’s platoon. His professional eye for surveillance eventually confirmed that he was the only one on the task. He took a taxi and followed the private car into which Manuel was beckoned by the person he had followed out of the concourse. Duarte didn’t instantly recognise the other person. He couldn’t really do more than tail them to their destination, note it, and see what happened next.

  Chapter 11

 

  Sorin Gretz sent for coffee after the promised video presentation and suggested it would be best if Manuel fired questions at him, rather than waste time trying to offer something he may not want. “We are convinced you would be the best man for the job, so we don’t need to dwell on that. I want to be able to either give you assurances that we can support your approach or whether we would have concerns. You have the floor.”

  Manuel started with an easy but necessary confirmation. “When you say ‘we’ do you infer that Verdasco and Boniek are as enthusiastic as yourself?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Are there any locations which you would deem off-limits?”

  The response was immediate. “No, do you have cause to think that we might?”

  Manuel was concentrating on the eyes as well as audio. “Not particularly, the evidence may even lead me to the Moon.”

  Gretz responded, “Now that is a surprise, but if that is where this takes us, so be it.”

  Although he had rehearsed this many times he wanted to get the intonation right. “Exactly what did you mean by your sentiment that you needed to X-ray your own organisation to eliminate any areas of concern?” Gretz became a little more animated.

  “Being confident is not necessarily the same thing as being right. Our entire credibility is based on utter and absolute security and privacy. If we become complacent we deserve no sympathy. My interpretation of an X-ray was first and foremost one of possible connection to some of the claims that the deaths of the protesters were linked to SACRED. If however, your findings indicate a more systemic scan of our operation is justified, you will have my attention and support, in that order.”

  Manuel requested more coffee to create a mini-break; this was too good to be true. He switched to
chit-chat about the big breaking news. “What do you think about Orient’s Moon trip?” Gretz’ brow furrowed dramatically.

  “It is troubling to say the least. I will be having discussions about it with our government brass, if not the President. We took this lunar project on because of the location’s inaccessibility. The Iberian position was at that time one of mothballing the colonisation, and only revitalising it commensurate with protection of our facility. They have obviously underestimated Orient’s financial muscle.”

  Manuel offered a challenge to this simplicity. “It may not be available financial muscle alone; they have, in their eyes, been betrayed. They have chronic overcrowding problems and may see this as cynical manoeuvring by the Republic, not believing we also have financial restraints. If they believe this to be their only long term survival route, financial muscle simply becomes part of an equation, and gets worse if delayed. The next option, if this doesn’t deliver suitable projections, is conflict.” He switched his enquiry back to the task in hand. “Do you have patrons or customers in Orient?”

  Gretz hesitated, which was not perceived as convincing. “Not to our knowledge. We grant access only to Iberian citizens as a primary protocol, but of course we are dependent upon the government gurus keeping their database clean with respect to DNA, fingerprints, passports, illegal immigrant files and the like. As there has been a cold war status between the two governments since Iberia sold out the colonisation project to us, Orient has its independent system of communication. Trade is pretty much limited by the currency values. It has become a black hole in terms of all manner of activities. Neutralisation of our, and I mean Iberian, communication fortress could be a consequence of this aggressive move.”

  “How many people are on the Moon?”

  “Approximately two hundred, but they are not equipped for normal living as would be the case with progressive colonisation. They depend on our orbital shuttle to deliver all life support commodity. There is extremely thorough screening, and most functions are on five year contracts. It is likened to a sentence in hell really, but they are rewarded with salaries which allow them to retire in luxury when their spell is up. We don’t have armed guards; the personnel are mainly responsible for maintenance and keeping to 99.9% uptime. The programming is all on Earth, with the exception of the encryption prior to distribution. Any attempted transgression is re-routed to buffers on the Moon, where action is taken to administer penalties, revoking of access or membership. You can imagine we need enormous capacity of data flow and therefore we have zero tolerance on breaches of regulations. We do have expansion of capacity planned, but I must review that in the light of this lunar incursion.”

  The importance of the investigation had suddenly mushroomed in Manuel’s mind. “Tell me about Futureworld.” Gretz’ affable demeanour returned.

  “It’s our flagship virtual reality experience. Some say it is not so ‘virtual’ and our first conclusion was that this was the basis of the protests. We have tried unsuccessfully to get access to the massive market potential of Orient, but both governments have their reasons for blocking this. Either administration could have been involved in the protest activity. I say this only to ensure your investigation is aware of the stakes on the table.” After the details of salary had been agreed Manuel asked about expenses and outsourcing services.

  “How do you want to control this aspect?”

  “It has to be auditable, personal expenses need receipts, and you will only hear from me if I think they are excessive. Services are potentially more complicated; especially as you are likely to run into demands for lubrication in order to obtain information. We must avoid any direct link back to the corporation or its employees. It’s necessary for you to run these things past me first, as I have ways of brokering deals which can remain under the radar.”

  The request to join Futureworld was a surprise for Gretz. “It has never been done before. All events, and I mean all, are based on realism. If you don’t generate activity and eat regularly in the game your character will starve. If you don’t do mundane things like turning up for work you will get fired. If your character dies, you may only start again with the accompanying disadvantage. Another person taking over a character from a truly deceased person offends the SACRED protocol. You need to convince me of exactly what you hope to achieve before I can take this seriously.”

  When Gretz was brought up to date with all exchanges between Manuel and Konrad, he seemed to lower the barrier a little. When Manuel revealed more about his family history, and his father’s potential motive in all of this, it added weight to his argument. He clinched it with the revelation of the request for Konrad’s head to be the subject of a second post-mortem. “I haven’t yet decided whether to oppose it. If you grant me his character, I will endorse it.”

  Gretz sketched in a little more of what had to be taken into account for this subterfuge. “You will need to obtain his passport as a starting point, so that we can alter the image on it. Other modifications such as adding your fingerprints, retinal scans and facial vectors can also be done once you bring it to me. The final transference can only be done on the Moon and only by one person. I’ll have to take it there as I’m the only individual from whom this person will accept such violation of the SACRED protocol. It would also be the best way to minimise any suspicion by my two partners. I could utilise the recent Orient provocation to justify my unaccompanied trip to assess our vulnerability, we need to do this anyway. When can you get the passport to me?”

  “I don’t know; can I call you?” Gretz reminded him that he would have to leave the next day.

  *

  Duarte was surprised by the call from Manuel, immediately after he left Gretz’ apartment. He was worried he had been spotted. “Chief Inspector, I have a favour to ask, but first I wanted to let you know that I’m going to endorse the second post-mortem on my brother. It bothered Olmeda that it came from someone in a government department – Snr. Pierze, and if he is worried, my father will be the reason. This makes me more inclined to be in favour, not as a brother, but in my role as an investigator.”

  “I see. I feel that would trigger a legal challenge. Snr. Olmeda hinted at this if Pierze didn’t consider the compassionate plea as good reason for withdrawal.”

  Manuel belatedly asked the question, “Who exactly is this Pierze?”

  “Ah, he’s an official of a government organisation which seems to be at odds with Central Security, and therefore your father, although Antonio does not seem to know him personally.” Manuel’s aptitude for opening closets to shed light on skeletons therein, clicked to auto.

  “Would it be possible to meet with Snr. Pierze if he knew I was considering endorsement of his request?”

  “Well let me see. I suppose it would make him think about how it might clip Olmeda’s tentacles. Leave it with me. You said you needed a favour.”

  Manuel blandly asked, “Did you find my brother’s passport in the deposit box?”

  “No. Why would it be in there?”

  “It shouldn’t have needed to be, but it wasn’t included in the items my mother brought to me, so I assume you didn’t find it in the apartment.” Duarte figured this had been under discussion between Manuel and the man whose apartment he’d just left.

  “When I come to think about it I can’t remember it being at the scene. Is it important?”

  “Not really, it just seems strange that it’s missing when other forms of his identity were there, you know stuff like his driving licence, credit cards etc. I guess it may turn up sometime if your forensics people aren’t finished.”

  Duarte cast his line carefully. “That may well happen, if there is controversy over the post-mortem application, I may resume gathering evidence and review the decision I made. We’ll see.” This gave Manuel time to get the keys from his mother and pay a private visit to look for the passport.

  *

  Butragueno was intrigued that Manuel had called her to say
he was definitely going to Barcelona and asked if she was willing to allow him knowledge of her targets. One of them he could figure out from the list of deaths Konrad had left. She thought about Duarte’s prior approval and played along. “Well one is actually in Sevilla, but Barcelona will be first. If you follow me out there we can meet after I have first shot at family and witnesses.”

  “Great, I’ll speak to you later about travel etc. Thanks for the trust.”

  *

  When Pierze was apprised of Manuel’s request he squirmed. Duarte injected his usual left-handed logic. “It strikes me as a prudent move to agree to meet. You’ve said you would like Salina to invoke your plan ‘B’, however even if his legal man can’t overturn this secret backup of yours he may well be able to employ injunctions to repeatedly delay things. Believe me, I have years of frustration to testify to their ingenuity in this respect. Can I ask what you have to lose by meeting him?”

  “I guess you have a point Duarte, if there is a family squabble it might indeed marginalise that thrust of injunction, and in fact hasten my trump card being played. Please set it up.” Duarte was pleased with his day’s work but knew it wasn’t over. He was sure Manuel would waste no time visiting the apartment. He decided that he would likely ask his mother to take the key to him, thus avoiding confrontation with his father at the Riu Principal.

  He parked across the street from Manuel’s hotel with a supply of coffee and raspberry doughnuts. His communicator vibrated and he spilled some of the hot coffee on to his lap. He uttered a succession of profanities before arriving at “Yes Butragueno.”

  “Wow, not only are we back from Elle to Butragueno, but personalised cursing, I am impressed.”