His ruminations were disturbed by an incoming comms alert flashing on his ocular implant. It was Joshua T. Becker, chief of police in Syrtis. He considered ignoring it, as it would just be an irritation to his current relaxed state. But then again, he did find toying with the chief to be quite entertaining. He gestured with an outstretched hand to establish a comms connection, and a holographic projection of the chief materialized in mid-air around a meter in front of Baptiste.
"Ahh, Chief. Forgive me if I don't reciprocate the visual feed, as I'm somewhat indisposed at present."
"She's still alive. We've just received reports of a stolen rover heading for the maintenance sector with Sorelli and a number of other radicals on board."
"Hmmm...she is proving to be resilient."
"We're not exactly sure where she is," Becker continued, "but there are not too many places where she can hide."
"We need to find her, for both our sakes. She has managed to get farther than Agent Frazer did by gaining entry into the storage facilities in Leighton, and then managed to escape with the help of her recently acquired band of radicals. Fortunately, she came away empty-handed. But we need to nip this in the bud, Becker."
"You have the all-clear from the MLOD to do what you have to do," said Becker. "Just try not to blow anything up this time. That entire sector is a hotbed of reactionaries and subversives, all itching for a fight."
"Well, maybe it's time we did something about that. Major Sorelli may have presented us with an opportunity to deal with this problem once and for all."
"Don't get ahead of yourself, Baptiste. There's still a lot of resistance to Montecristo's involvement with the MLOD as a security partner, and that last attempt by your security personnel on Lloyd Allen's warehouse angered a lot of people. The rumor mill has also been dialed up; lots of talk that Agent Frazer was eliminated by Montecristo."
"Just talk and nothing more, I assure you, Chief. Our only interest in all this is how we can help maintain law and order. It's in both our interests, and it's good for business."
"So you keep saying. But there are other rumors. It's beginning to leak out that Montecristo are stockpiling vital components, keeping them out of circulation, exacerbating the failure of vital systems."
"The people who are spreading this sort of poison need to be dealt with. This does nobody any good."
"Just letting you know."
"I appreciate that, Chief. But just remember who's helping the MLOD hold the line here. Without our continued assistance, there would be civil breakdown, utter chaos. So, we both need to work together on this. You keep everyone out of that sector. We'll do the mop up and get these radicals brought to justice."
"Try not to blow anything up this time."
"Listen, Becker. If we need to blow something up, then so be it, and you're just going to have to live with that. So have your people coordinate with my people and let's get this done." He terminated the comms.
By now, Vance Baptiste had spent too long in the jacuzzi, and his primary concern was that his body would start to resemble a dehydrated tomato. He stepped out and wrapped a thick, warm dressing gown around himself.
This Sorelli officer was becoming a serious problem, and Chief Joshua T. Becker was getting spooked. True, she came with a pedigree that stood her apart from the normal foot soldiers of the MLOD. Therefore, it was highly unlikely that she would just go off and die the same way Dan Frazer did. Nevertheless, she needed to be gotten rid of, along with the other rabble.
Fortunately, she had come away empty-handed from her incursion into the Leighton waystation, but she had picked up a cohort of very troublesome friends along the way. Lloyd Allen had been a thorn in Montecristo's side for a long time, single-handedly preventing them from taking control of that sector of Syrtis—something that Vance Baptiste's paymasters were not happy about. Not happy at all. And their botched attempt to apprehend Sorelli at his warehouse had failed in spectacular fashion.
But now it seemed that he had a golden opportunity to put it all to right. He now had the authority to do whatever it took to flush them out and take control of the last important sector in the city. Then... Well, he was getting ahead of himself. Best not get too cocky. There was a lot of work to do.
He gestured with an outstretched hand and opened a comms channel to Montecristo's head of security, Orban Dent. Time to get this show on the road, he thought. A thin smile cracked across his face.
A highly detailed 3D schematic of the entire maintenance sector of Syrtis hovered above the large, central holo-table in the main operations room of the orbital space station. A now fully dressed Vance Baptiste studied it carefully. Hovering above a secondary holo-table was an almost life-sized avatar of Orban Dent, Montecristo's head of security and their man on the ground. He was currently located in the corporation's HQ back down on the planet's surface. Together, they were coordinating their efforts to find Sorelli and her associates.
Knowing that the MLOD agent and her ragtag crew of reactionaries had returned from the Leighton waystation was one thing, but actually locating them in the maze of walkways, buildings, and facilities in the sector was considerably more difficult. They could be anywhere.
Their rover had been tracked inbound as far as the number two navigation beacon, one of a long line of beacons placed on the route to facilitate surface travel in the dense dust storm. After that, they had lost track of it, yet it was assumed to be somewhere in that sector. If it were anywhere else, they probably would have found it by now.
But this sector had always had a strong, defiantly independent streak. It didn't help that a good deal of its denizens were technically well versed, so had set about undermining all attempts by the Mars Law and Order Department, and its security contractor Montecristo, to monitor the comings and goings in this area.
But the authorities still had their ways. It was more difficult, but not impossible, to get a digital picture of the activities within. The numerous technicians arrayed around the operations room had now been diverted from all other activities to focus solely on this one single task: find Mia Sorelli.
Vance Baptiste looked up from the schematic and directed a question to Orban. "Well?"
Baptiste suspected that Orban still felt responsible for letting Sorelli escape from Leighton. He’d had her locked down good and tight, yet he had neglected to consider that her newfound buddies might come looking for her. Yet he shouldn't be too hard on himself; they must have had inside help. How else would they know where to find her and how to evade their security? Still, he needed to make it right. He needed to find her.
Baptiste also suspected that Orban did not wholeheartedly approve of his methods, preferring instead to fall back on the old ways that had proven ineffective in advancing the corporation’s objectives. When it came to one on one, Orban Dent had few equals, but he had no stomach for full-frontal mass assault and the invariable body count it entailed.
"We're still correlating data streams," Orban's avatar replied. "Nothing definitive as yet. However, we have intercepted an encrypted tight-beam comms signal emanating from within the sector to Jezero City. Its digital signature suggests it could be the work of Lloyd Allen. It has his fingerprints all over it."
"So they're in there somewhere." Baptiste rubbed his chin and glanced back at the holo-table. "Can you decrypt it?"
"Working on it. We're confident, but it will take time."
"How long?"
"I understand it to be imminent."
"Good. We need to find these bastards and eliminate them. They've been a thorn in our side for too long. I say we just go in there with overwhelming force and take these scumbags out once and for all."
"I suggest we be more patient and strategic. Your last foray in there didn't work out too well, did it?"
Baptiste felt a twinge of anger at Orban's criticism of his methods, but he resisted the temptation to lash out at him, preferring instead to try to bring him around to his way of thinking. He needed him on board, so he
would just have to play the game.
"Okay, we do it your way. We take our time, find out exactly where they are, and then strike. Just don't forget that we've been presented with a golden opportunity to finally bring this sector under our influence. Once that is achieved, we will then have effective control of Syrtis, which in turn will give us control of the council—and that means control of Mars itself." He stabbed a finger at the 3D schematic hovering above the holo-table. "This sector holds the key. It is the final piece of the jigsaw that Montecristo Industries has been working toward for a very long time."
"Understood," said the avatar.
"Also, Chief Becker has given tacit approval for an armed intervention, and we need to keep him and MLOD on our side in all of this. Although I suspect that the chief is having doubts. His resolve is wavering in the face of the brutal reality of armed subjugation of this band of radicals. But if we are to ultimately reach our goal of complete control of Mars, then this is our opportunity. We are on the cusp of greatness, Orban, so let's not screw it up."
Orban's avatar cupped a hand over his right ear. "I think we have it. Comms connection has been decrypted." A red marker started flashing on the 3D schematic. "Coming from that location."
"Excellent," said Baptiste, clasping his hands together. "Do we know what was in the message?"
"Putting it on the table now." With that, a grainy head-and-shoulders hologram of Mia Sorelli materialized, along with an even more grainy rendering of council member Poe Tarkin, Director of Planetary Security.
"Tarkin?" Baptiste cocked an eyebrow. "This should be interesting."
But the feed was of poor quality. The image flickered and degraded into fuzz. The audio was slightly better, but they could only make out snatches of the conversation.
Baptiste shook his head. "Why is this so bad?"
"It's the nature of this type of comms. The highly charged atmosphere created by the dust storm makes it problematic."
"Problematic? This is shit! What the hell are they saying? Can we clean it up?"
"Working on it."
Baptiste concentrated and tried to make some sense of the fragments he could pick up. The transmission began to stabilize as the techs worked their magic on it, and soon he began to make out some of the conversation. Major Sorelli was explaining what she had found at the Leighton waystation, and a momentary pang of fear surfaced from deep within Baptiste. But he needn't have worried, as Tarkin proceeded to berate Sorelli for effectively going rogue.
"We sent you there on a simple mission. Now you've turned it into a revolutionary crusade. The council are saying you've gone all Patty Hearst."
"Who?"
"A historical figure who was co-opted by a bunch of crazies."
"This is serious, Poe. Montecristo are siphoning off essential supplies, undermining our very survival. How many people have died in systems failures that could have been prevented if the new components were available?"
"Look, Mia. I'm not doubting what you’re saying. Montecristo have been growing ever more powerful since the MLOD in Syrtis decided to hand over their security to them. I don't trust them, and neither do a lot of us, but—and here's the problem—you don't have any evidence, Mia. I can't convince anyone here to take action without cold, hard evidence."
"Just go to Leighton and take a look."
"We can't. Not without good reason, and you haven't given us any."
Baptiste glanced at Orban. "That's interesting," he said before returning his focus to the communication. Poe Tarkin was still talking.
"You need to get out of there. Your continued presence is just going to give them an excuse to take over that sector. You're just playing into their hands."
"You can stop them, Poe. Just give the order to Chief Becker to hold off until I get the evidence we need."
"I'll try, Mia. That much I can do. But I think you overestimate the power the council here has over the administration in Syrtis. The chief is in the same position as we are, if not worse, in trying to keep a lid on complete social breakdown. The MLOD need Montecristo. Without their people, they would have a hard time keeping control."
"Not if the thousands of stockpiled components were released. Things could be fixed. Things would improve."
The transmission began to fragment until it finally ceased all together.
Baptiste turned to his head of security. "Do we have a location yet?"
"Yes. It should be on your holo-table now." The holographic schematic of the maintenance sector reappeared, this time with a blinking location marker.
"Well get in there now, before Chief Becker has a change of heart. Once we start the operation, he can do nothing to stop it.
Baptiste thought he detected a slight hesitation in his head of security before he finally replied. "Right away, sir."
"As soon as Sorelli and that Allen radical have been dealt with, then move onto the second phase. Full occupation, okay?"
"Very well. First contingent is now on its way."
"Excellent." Baptiste returned to studying the map of the maintenance sector as a thin smile rippled across his face.
14
Revolution
It wasn't so much that Mia didn't know where she was or where she was going. It was more that she didn't know what she was doing, nor was she sure of what everyone else was doing, for that matter. Events were moving ahead of her, and she was struggling to catch up.
The conversation with Poe Tarkin had proven fruitless. Her faith in the directors of the Mars Law and Order Department to do the right thing were failing, even before she embarked on this mission. But now, after talking to Poe, it was shattered. He seemed more concerned about the consequences of sticking his neck out than with doing the right thing. They were hanging her out to swing, something Mia had a lot of experience in, and not a place she wanted to be—not now, not ever.
Nonetheless, she could see that the optics of her situation did not look good. Unbeknownst to her, Lloyd Allen was far from the benign, slightly eccentric, good-hearted tech nerd that she had initially supposed. In reality he was knee—deep in fomenting a pushback against the all-pervasive influence of the Montecristo Corporation, and by extension the MLOD. And, he and his associates were not opposed to using violence to further their aims. In the romantic worldview, they were rebels fighting for the people. However, in the cold political reality of the Council of Mars and the institutions that governed the planet, they were simply vigilantes.
Maybe Poe was right: she should find a way to get out—and fast, before the shit hit the fan—and leave Lloyd and his band of freedom fighters to their high-minded delusions.
Part of her felt that she had been used, a useful pawn in their corporate fight. She had the wherewithal to get the evidence they needed to turn the populace against the enemy, so what if she got burned in the process? Was that what had happened to Agent Frazer? Had he also been a willing pawn, set up by Lloyd to do the dirty work, even though his life was at stake?
Her mission was to find out what had happened to Frazer, not embark on a crusade to take down some corporation, even if they were screwing people over. She was just doing her job: to seek the truth, to seek justice. And look where that had taken her. She had pulled at the thread, and now the whole goddamn thing was unraveling.
But then again, they had come back for her, risked their own lives to get her out, even though they knew she had effectively failed in her mission to acquire hard evidence of Montecristo's duplicity. So, there was that. And there was no doubt in her mind that the extent of the deceit that had been uncovered needed redress. The lie needed to be exposed, people needed to understand what was happening, and they needed to get angry—very angry. The only problem: most people in the sector preferred to do what the MLOD were doing.
Look the other way.
They had traveled back to Syrtis, avoiding the last few navigation beacons and feeling their way through the impenetrable dust storm like some nocturnal animal, mapping their surrounding by
sense of smell alone. How it was done was a mystery to Mia, but to her relief they arrived in a vehicle maintenance facility, another warehouse not unlike the one she and Gizmo had left when they began their long walk to the Leighton waystation.
Who owned this place? No one said. But Mia got the impression it was yet another one of Lloyd’s assets. It had a semi-derelict feel to it, with an acrid smell typical of a facility that had gone without atmosphere for some time. It was virtually empty except for the scavenged hulk of a long-forgotten rover. Yet from seemingly out of nowhere, in the space of a few minutes, the crew produced an impressive array of weapons, surveillance equipment, and even a fresh pot of coffee.
"Plan B," was all Lloyd said to her with a wink as he busied himself getting the equipment operational. Milo was dispatched out into the sector to inform "those who needed to be informed" of what had been found in the Leighton waystation, and to "expect trouble." Marcus disappeared, only to return a short time later with yet another small handcart full of weapons and an announcement that "all preparations had been made." And all this time, Gizmo lay in the hold of the rover, a broken, disemboweled mess.
Yet Lloyd had been true to his word, and through some feat of technical magic had established a comms link with MLOD in Jezero, enabling Mia to seek help from Poe Tarkin. Now, though, it was all for naught. No help was forthcoming. And to make matters worse, when Anka and Milo returned, it was with news that "those who needed to be informed" were not happy that they were being dragged into an armed confrontation with Montecristo security simply on Lloyd's word that they were depriving the citizens of life-saving supplies.
"Ungrateful bastards." Marcus stomped the floor and kicked the side of an old metal crate, sending it flying across the floor.
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