Colony Mars Ultimate Edition

by Gerald M. Kilby

  "Good luck," said Lloyd. "I'll try and get comms reestablished. Maybe we can contact MLOD or Jezero."

  Mia nodded and headed off to the rover with Gizmo by her side.

  20

  MLOD HQ

  Chief Joshua T. Becker stood in front of a wall of monitors in the situation room of the MLOD HQ in Syrtis. He held his head in both hands, his mouth was open, and his eyes were almost popping out of his skull as he contemplated the mayhem unfolding all across the city. His mind was finding it extremely difficult to absorb the scale of the social disintegration that was now developing. Why had he ever allowed that slimeball Vance Baptiste to talk him into this? Becker knew he was going to burn for this catastrophe, and burn bad.

  The broadcast of Montecristo's duplicity by Major Sorelli had opened a valve in the city, and all the pent-up frustrations of a population living on the edge had come flooding out. But then again, over 380 sols of slowly disintegrating life support and infrastructure will do that to people. When there is seemingly no hope, only a steady slide into extinction, the citizens will eventually start to get angry. Very, very angry.

  Before this, that frustration had simply manifested itself in protests, demonstrations, social unrest, and some acts of violence and vandalism. It had been this level of unrest that the MLOD and their security contractors Montecristo had been dealing with for the last few months—and only just keeping a lid on things. Now it had escalated into all-out war, and that war had just piled on to the streets and found a target: Montecristo Industries.

  Where before, the frustration of the populace had had no real focus other than raging against the eternal dust storm encircling the planet, now, they had found a target, one they saw as exacerbating the misery wrought on the people by denying them the very supplies they needed to survive. And their collective rage knew no bounds.

  In every sector across the city, locked down or not, people piled onto the streets and began attacking any facility or asset that had anything to do with Montecristo Industries. The only thing holding them back from tearing these assets to shreds were the combined MLOD officers of Syrtis and Jezero. But Chief Joshua T. Becker knew that this would not be enough; they could not hold back this rage much longer, and the situation was now critical. The dam was bursting, and it threatened to bring about the total destruction of the city and everyone in it.

  "You know, all she had to do was bring back Agent Frazer's body."

  Becker was jolted out of his near catatonic state by a voice beside him. He looked around. It was the director of planetary security, Poe Tarkin. He had taken the shuttle from Jezero along with the newly arrived contingent of officers.

  "But no, instead she had to unleash Armageddon," Poe continued.

  Becker didn't bother to reply. He just went back to watching the violence unfold all across Syrtis.

  "Did you know anything about this?" said Tarkin after a moment.

  "What?" Becker looked at him, a little annoyed.

  "About Montecristo siphoning off components from the aid shipments?"

  Becker found the question almost irrelevant. What does it matter now? he thought. The damage had been done, and there was no going back. He gave a dismissive grunt and looked back at the screens for a moment before sighing again. "Yes, I did. We all did. But not the extent to which they were doing it. We all turned a blind eye to what we presumed was some minor...redirection of resources." He waved an arm to indicate he was referring to the other MLOD officers in HQ. "We felt it a small price to pay for Montecristo's continued involvement in local law enforcement."

  "And this...vendetta against the people in the maintenance sector?" Poe pressed.

  Becker rubbed a thick bead of sweat from his forehead. "Bottom line was, we needed them, needed their manpower and technology, and they knew that." He looked at Poe with a pained, tortured expression on his face. "It just became harder and harder to say no. What choice did I have?"

  "There's always a choice, Joshua." Tarkin lowered his head a little and shook it. "Well, what's done is done. And if Major Sorelli is right about the extent of the crime, then a lot of people didn't have to die."

  "Too late now. And if we don't do something soon, then a lot more people are going to die."

  Becker turned his attention to one of the techs. "Any word from that bastard Baptiste?"

  "No, sir. Nothing."

  "Or the Montecristo board?"

  "No, sir. Just the same statement as before."

  The corporation’s board had simply issued a bland statement on the unfolding situation. We are shocked to learn of the illegal activities of Vance Baptiste. You can be assured that this corruption will be rooted out. We are every bit as concerned as the MLOD and are monitoring the situation closely.

  "Really? Well that’s just great then, isn't it? Nothing to worry about."

  "Agent Frazer was investigating this, wasn't he?"

  Becker threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. "What are you saying, Poe?"

  "I get the feeling, Joshua, that you know more about what went on than you're admitting."

  "Fuck you. You’re not the one trying to keep Syrtis from disintegrating. It's okay for you in Jezero. You don't have the population we have—four hundred thousand desperate people, all ready to explode. Jezero is a bastion of civilized culture compared to here. So spare me the condescension, Poe."

  "The law is the law, Joshua. You should know this—you're the chief of police."

  "These are desperate times, Poe. We do what we need to do. Who are you to judge?"

  Poe Tarkin looked away and returned his attention to the unfolding drama on screen. "Perhaps you're right, Joshua. Now is not the time for moral analysis. Now is the time to take action. We will be remembered for what we do now more than for what has gone before." He turned back to the chief. "What I'd like to know is, whose side are you on?"

  Becker gave him a hard stare, then jabbed a finger at him. "The side I've always been on—the people of Syrtis. Montecristo and that vile bastard Vance Baptiste have played us all for fools, me more so than most. Okay, I'll admit it, I was wrong." He turned to face the screens as his body visibly deflated. "The thing is, Poe, I really don't know what to do."

  "We give the people what they want, which is justice," said Poe, a little pompously for Becker's liking. "That means us taking control of this situation. So, here's what we do. First, tell Montecristo they must hand over all the components that they’ve...stolen. We will send a contingent out to the Leighton waystation to oversee handover. Then we broadcast it, just like Major Sorelli did. That should start getting the people on our side. We do that, along with copious appeals for calm.

  "Next, we need Vance Baptiste's head. Because someone needs to pay, and be seen to pay. And that's Baptiste. Therefore, Montecristo will need to play ball. If they've a problem handing him over, then we threaten to withdraw all our officers from protecting Montecristo facilities, let the mob tear them all to shreds."

  Becker looked at the director of planetary security. "What about Sorelli, and all those in the maintenance sector?"

  Poe Tarkin thought for a moment. "Try to make contact with Agent Sorelli or that Lloyd guy. They’ll have a better idea of what's really going on in there."

  Becker nodded. "Okay, I'll get some people on it right away."

  The suddenness of the reaction to the rebels’ broadcast, and the sheer scale of it, came as a shock to Vance Baptiste. So sure had he been of his plan to rid Montecristo of the threat that Mia Sorelli posed, and to finally acquire control of the problematic maintenance sector, that he was now having trouble believing it was all going to rat-shit. Already, Montecristo assets were under attack in every sector, and now relied more than ever on the assistance of the MLOD to keep the mob at bay.

  The evacuation of the maintenance sector had turned into chaos, but at least that was now fully locked down, and soon all resistance still remaining inside would be dead. Then Montecristo could walk right in and take control. So it wa
sn't all bad. Just so long as the MLOD held the line, then he could still pull this off. Nevertheless, neither he nor Orban were taking any chances. They decided that it would be best if they moved the rover they were using as a base of operations outside the city, onto the planet’s surface. Out there, it would be difficult for anyone to threaten them. They would wait it out for however long it took for things to settle down before reentering Syrtis again.

  They had taken it out via the northern airlock gate and parked up around two kilometers from the city's edge, very near to where their shuttle was still parked. But comms was being severely disrupted by the intense ionization of the dust storm, and the techs failed to establish any coherent signals. Finally, after several attempts to rectify the issue, they decided it would just be easier to move the rover back closer to the city's edge, where the signal would be stronger.

  They were now bumping their way back across the surface, around half a kilometer from the metropolis, when the comms gear finally kicked back into life. Almost immediately, the holo-table in the center of the operation bay blossomed to life, and a 3D, rotating Montecristo Industries logo hovered above its surface.

  "Sir, the board over at HQ are requesting a conference connection."

  "Excellent, please proceed. You can bring it up on the holo-table." Baptiste had assumed the board were contacting him so that they could congratulate him on the operation. As they should, considering the amount of time and resources he had invested in this entire operation.

  The logo on the holo-table gracefully disassembled itself and several avatars began to materialize, one for each member of the Montecristo Industries board.

  The session began with the avatar identified as the Chair. "We have convened the board for a special meeting to discuss the current situation developing in Syrtis."

  "Very good," said Baptiste enthusiastically. "My apologies for the poor quality of communications. We are currently outside the city." He waved a hand in the air. "The dust storm plays havoc with the telemetry."

  "Where exactly are you located? The coordinates, please?" said the Chair.

  Baptiste considered this an odd request. Why were they so interested in his exact location? One of the techs looked over at him and nodded. Baptiste looked back at the board of avatars. "I believe that has now been sent."

  "Very good."

  The corporation's CEO now spoke up. "The situation on the ground is becoming...problematic, and a significant proportion of our facilities are under attack from mobs of irate citizens."

  "It will pass," said Baptiste. "Just hold the line."

  "That's a strategy we may have difficulty implementing, as the MLOD have decided to grow a set of balls and are demanding we hand over the entire contents of Leighton waystation, or they will withdraw their officers." The CEO could barely conceal his frustration.

  "They're bluffing." Baptiste waved a dismissive hand in the air. "They know as well as anyone that our facilities are the only thing keeping life support functioning in this city."

  The CTO now chimed in. "Perhaps, but officers from Jezero have already withdrawn and are heading out to Leighton."

  "We may have had a hold over Chief Becker, but Poe Tarkin is another matter," said the CEO to another of the avatars. "He is proving to be serious in his threat."

  "Let him try," Baptiste interjected.

  There was a brief moment of disconcerting silence as the board members began discussing something amongst themselves. Finally, the Chair turned to Baptiste. "Given these...unfortunate developments, the board have come to a view on how best to proceed. Please understand that we have not come to this lightly. It's just...well, business."

  Baptiste did not like the sound of this—not one bit.

  "We agree to hand over the stockpile of components to the officers of the MLOD in return for their guarantee of continued security provision."

  "No way. I disagree totally," said Baptiste. "Those components are what has enabled us to buy the loyalty of the citizens."

  "Any goodwill shown toward Montecristo Industries by the locals has all but evaporated after that...charade was broadcast." The CEO began to underscore the board's decision. "No amount of us fixing things up is going to buy that back. It's gone for good. This is now a damage limitation exercise."

  "But..."

  "But nothing. This is the way it is. We hand the components over, and then do a public relations campaign to show just how generous we are in these...challenging times. It's not going to get us back to where we were, but at least it might calm things down."

  Baptiste was not liking where this was going. "We are very close to gaining complete control. The maintenance sector will be ours soon, and that has always been the last piece in the jigsaw."

  "It's too late now," the CEO continued. "We've lost a significant amount of goodwill. Not even control of the sector will make up for that loss. Therefore, we demand that you reverse the evacuation protocol, take it out of lockdown."

  "What? After all I’ve done to get us to this point? This is...is treason."

  The board erupted in a chorus of outrage at this accusation from Baptiste. "You are way out of order. We’re trying to save what we can from the mess that you have created." The Chair pointed an angry finger directly at him.

  Baptiste was beginning to smell a rat. They were turning on him, and the question uppermost in his mind now was how far would that go? Would they go as far as to abandon both him and Orban? Was it possible that, far from being heralded as a hero, he would now be thrown to the wolves? What was really in the deal they hatched with the MLOD? Did it include handing them his head on a plate?

  "And where does that leave me in all of this?" he finally said.

  The board shuffled and shifted around uncomfortably. Even though they were just 3D avatars floating above the holo-table, he could still sense their collective unease at this question. It was at that moment he realized they were going to shaft him.

  "We can, eh...discuss that once the dust settles, so to speak. We just need you to give the authorization to reverse the evacuation of the maintenance sector and...eh, return to HQ."

  There it was. As clear as day, as far as Baptiste was concerned. They were keeping the discussion polite and civil because they knew he was the only one with the authorization key to reverse the evacuation protocol. They needed him. But once it was done, he was nothing. He would lose all power.

  He thought about this for a moment and decided to play it cool. He just shrugged. "Very well, so be it. Although, I'll be honest and say that I disagree with this strategy, but if it's the decision of the board, then I'll reverse the lockdown and head for HQ." Baptiste employed his best acting skills to deliver this last line, in the hope that they would truly believe it.

  The avatars’ collective body language began to relax a little. "Yes, agreed. Disappointing, but it is the best way out of this...current impasse," said the CEO. The other avatars nodded in agreement.

  From then on, Baptiste zoned out, and the mutterings of the board drifted into the background of his consciousness as he formulated his next move. He only came back when they were signing off.

  "Yeah, sure. We can discuss again later." He cut the transmission and turned to Orban. "This is bullshit."

  "Well, I told you so."

  Baptiste's face reconfigured from a look of anger to one of disdain. "I'm beginning to wonder just how useful you are to me, Orban."

  "I'll pretend I didn't hear that. I suggest our best option is to do what they say—reverse the evacuation and then head for HQ."

  A strange, disconcerting smile cracked across Baptiste's mottled face. "Don't you think it was a bit odd, asking for our location?"

  Orban just shrugged.

  "The only reason they would want that is if we didn't agree to reverse the evacuation. Then, I presume, they would send a crew out here to make us comply. Which means we're no longer of any use to them. They've probably hatched a deal with MLOD for our respective heads, just so they can
save face—because they are weak. They've sold us out, Orban, and lost what it was that they wanted so badly—absolute power. I could have given them that, if they only had the balls to stick it out to the bitter end. But no, they’re duplicitous, only concerned now with salvaging the bottom line. So, I say we screw them, and we screw them good."

  Orban remained silent for a moment, mentally digesting Baptiste's rant.

  "They contracted me to do what they themselves tried so hard to do, but failed." Baptiste slapped his chest. "Now they shaft me just when the going gets tough. But here's the thing—they can't reverse the evacuation in the maintenance sector without this." Baptiste reached into a pocket and pulled out a small object, not unlike a key fob on a neck chain, and dangled it in front of Orban. "The protocol is encrypted with this key, and only it can reverse the procedure."

  Orban Dent fixed his eyes on the key.

  "So, I say we let it roll, and all those scumbags in there will die." Baptiste shoved the key back in his pocket. "Now, maybe Montecristo Industries can survive that. After all, the people left in there are just rebels."

  Baptiste went silent for a moment, thinking. Then turned back to Orban and raised a finger in the air. "I've an even better idea. Let's say we put all Montecristo sectors into atmospheric decompression. I'd like to see them survive the fallout from that." He began to laugh.

  Orban's eyes widened a little, and his face hardened. "Are you totally fucking crazy?" he managed to say through gritted teeth. "You would kill all those people just to get back at Montecristo?"

  Baptiste jabbed a finger at Orban this time. "Don't start growing a moral core all of a sudden. You're pretty good at killing people when you want to."

  "Not when I want to, only when I have to. There's a big difference." He shook his head. "I can't let you do this."

  "What? Not you as well." He threw his hands up. "Is there some disease in the air that's turning everyone into pussies?"

  Orban's face grew tighter, his eyes narrowing this time. Then he lunged, making a grab for Baptiste's neck.