by Lee Bond
Incredible. So not only had Nickels accomplished the unthinkable several times over, he’d also somehow managed to come face-to-face with the inscrutable Lady Ha long enough to acquire her fantastically irritating services.
Again, no proof.
Terrance readily admitted to outfitting the Offworlder with a MilInt prote for ‘purposes of tracking and detailing a known or suspected Trinity spy’s activities within Latelyspace’, but only that. Short of torture, it was unlikely they’d dig the truth out of the politician.
Doans preferred to avoid torture, though it was killing her to refrain; the man would crack like an egg and there were things he knew that needed hiding.
It didn’t matter, though. At the base of Terrance’s lies, there was the unmistakable truth that everything the OverSecretary had done since Nickels’ landing had been coordinated to maneuver himself into office. There was nothing new in that. It was his job as OverSecretary to oust the Chairperson. Usually, things were done in more tasteful, obvious ways. Smear campaigns, bribing staff, collecting incriminating data, set-ups … that sort of thing. This … backdoor dealing with foreigners was … distasteful.
Even though they couldn’t prove it and wouldn’t even try to, OverSecretary Terrance had completely ruined his life by forcing Garth Nickels’ hand. And thanks to Terrance’s stupid shortsightedness, they couldn’t rescind citizenship until Nickels blatantly broke the law.
Even then, they couldn’t execute. Seconds after proof of Citizenship passed, Trinity Itself had exercised Its Special Privileges; should their newest citizen engage in any activity or pastime resulting in his incarceration for any reason, Trinity was to be informed. Garth Nickels was then to be transported to the other side of their Q-Tunnel –in any direction, into any system- and that was that. Death by misadventure was unacceptable. It would be punished and at this stage of the game, Doans could not, would not, risk Trinity’s displeasure. Things were moving quickly now and any loss would be catastrophic.
“I am in a very difficult position, sa.” Doans said at long last.
“Ma’am?” Garth shook his head. “Er, si?” He flicked his eyes mischievously at Terrance, who flinched spastically.
Doans cast a sidelong glance at Terrance. “The OverSecretary has informed me of his own free will that he outfitted you with a military grade proteus.”
“He did?” Garth asked quizzically, rolling his eyes. “And here I thought every Offworlder turned citizen was allowed to remote access spEyes, hack into netLINK servers, and generally befuddle the entire population. My mistake.”
Vasily grinned despite himself. As much as he was personally very doubtful of Garth’s actual motives, the man had balls.
“And did you do these things?” Doans wondered, even though she knew the answer would be an utter lie.
Garth closed his eyes for a long moment. As far as he was concerned, they had him dead to rights on pretty much everything that’d happened since landing. His previous life as a damned good mercenary gave them no other choice but to realize this, but he also knew that if they wanted him dead, they wouldn’t have let him wake up. He didn’t know much about the inner workings of the Latelian government, and didn’t really want to; it was enough to know that Chairwoman Doans was willing to hang the bulk of the blame on Terrance –who must’ve shit bricks at the destruction of the port- and let it go at that. If he lied to the ruler of Latelyspace and said he’d never once used the Intelligence functions on his proteus, Garth imagined she’d pretend to believe him, only to sic thousands of agents on him the moment he left the hospital. On the other hand, if he told her the entire scope of his actions, common sense and loyalty to the office would force her to punish him in some way. “Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.” he murmured, eyes still closed.
“Sorry?” Terrance shifted nervously from foot to foot.
Garth shook his head. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to use blaspheme. Uh, yeah, as a matter of fact, I did. Use some of the … higher functions. Once or twice.”
Vasily cocked his head to one side. Either the man was completely insane, or he really was packing a thousand-pound pair of testes. “Would you care to elaborate, sa?”
“Back at the Hotel Hospitalis, you know the place with all the other Offworlders?” Garth continued when all three of his guests nodded simultaneously. “Yeah, well, I started goofing around with my proteus, just trying to learn how to use it when all of a sudden I discovered this whole other netLINK feed streaming out of the place, and all these extra spEyes. They were everywhere! So, I sort of checked out what was going on. It looks to me like the woman running that place is making tons of extra money selling access to unchecked raw footage of the Offworlders.” He grinned wide. “I’d check it out if I were you, especially since the relay load is already overburdened across the entire planet. Someone hogging bandwidth on promotionally approved Game-related material could cause more problems than you know. All that money and stuff.”
“I’ll … I’ll get someone right on that, sa.” Doans cleared her throat, then resumed. “As I said, a very difficult position. Terrance has also informed me of his firm belief that you are in fact a highly trained Trinity spy sent here to demoralize and destabilize our culture to the point where the AI-run government can simply come in and take over. He has also made me aware of your claims to ownership of The Box, and your thirty thousand year cryogenic sleep.”
“He did?” Garth feigned total shock. It wasn’t difficult to imagine Terrance, faced with a multitude of charges looming on the horizon, spilling anything he knew about everything. The man wasn’t any stronger than a wet piece of paper. “As to being highly trained, you bet your ass I am. I am the greatest frickin’ soldier that Trinity ever saw, or ever will see. I am the Alpha and Omega of War and all Its functions. I’ve fought on thousands of worlds, si, from deserts to worlds of ice and fire. I have seen shit you wouldn’t believe.” He waited for that to sink in, reveling in the looks on the assembled faces.
He raised a hand to calm their nerves. “I don’t work for Trinity anymore, and I never will again. There is no love for Trinity in my heart. I was recovered from a cryogenic suspension chamber. I was on ice for thirty thousand years. All of that is one hundred percent verifiable simply by talking to someone at Historical Services; they’ll tell you I was interrogated, exhaustively by a spaz name of Kant Ingrams. You guys are too mistrustful to believe that data, so I doubt you’ll bother. Do I own The Box? I say I do. Terrance says I don’t. You’ll say I don’t either, claiming I just saw it on the screens. Hell, I can sketch it out for you, free hand, detailing things obviously edited out, that no one but scientists and government officials could possibly know. And that’s fine. I get it. There is no way I could be thirty thousand years old. But I am going to win The Game. I will … fuck me sideways.” Garth ground his teeth; he’d days of pre-trials. He was out.
“There is no need to curse, sa.” Doans said primly, though she herself had a tendency to swear like a trucker, especially when in session and faced with particularly stubborn opposition. She liked to think it was one of the things that had kept her in office so long. “In light of Guillfoyle’s repeated attempts to have you killed, the destruction of your personal spaceship, and Terrance’s attempts to force you into action against the people of Latelyspace, I have issued an Executive Order giving you the right to bypass the entire pre-trial series of Games. And since there seems to be no records covering your own actions during the last week, at least none that make any sense, it also falls onto me to make a decision concerning your … concerning you.”
“So where does the difficult position part come in?”
“You may not work for Trinity, you may sincerely be here to do nothing more than open The Box, if you can, and you may be truly interested in becoming a citizen of Latelyspace. I have no way to prove or disprove any of your claims or your complicity in the string of catastrophes suddenly plaguing my planet.” Doans fixed Garth with her legendary stare; she was quite pr
oud of her stare, crushing as it had dozens of men who’d had the temerity to try and get in her way. The Chairwoman felt a small quiver when the stare bounced off Garth’s indomitable cheery exterior. She forged on ahead. “But I am not stupid. Instinct tells me –is screaming in my ear- that I would be better served killing you stone cold dead. My Commander spends hours a day suggesting this very action. My advisors, worriers and ninnies to a one, are of the mind that I should destroy this hospital and salt the earth so that your influence can’t find purchase. But I won’t. Or, not yet: as I said, there is no proof that I can use. Terrance believes you are a walking apocalypse and that even if I did kill you, you would somehow rise from the dead, three times as powerful and ready to eat children.” The named man shuffled his feet awkwardly. Doans swallowed thoughtfully. “However.”
Here it comes, Garth thought gleefully, the threat.
“If I find your name so much as mentioned in the same sentence as a criminal act, you’re arrested. If you are in the vicinity something strange, inexplicable, weird or outright impossible, I will drop an OIP on your head. If I wake up tomorrow and find that I have somehow benefited from your presence, I will have you arrested so fast your toes will fall off. Essentially, sa, doing anything more exciting that buying groceries and watching television will see you in trouble. You. Terrance. Follow.” Doans swept out of the room, ex-OverSecretary Terrance following quickly behind, looking about ready to piss himself.
Vasily lingered. “You should consider yourself incredibly lucky, sa.” The grizzled war commander was serious. “If the Chairwoman had been able to find even a single iota of data putting you on the same block as any of the people involved, it would have been God soldiers all over the place, with you in the middle. Very lucky indeed.”
Garth nodded strenuously. “Oh, yes, I’m very grateful. Especially for the bit about The Game.”
Vasily leaned forward, eyes glittering eagerly. “Just between you and me, sa… what was it like?”
“Off the record?” Garth stared at Vasily’s oversized proteus.
Vasily narrowed his eyes thoughtfully at Garth for a long minute before curiosity got the better of him; everyone who needed to know had no doubts that Garth was as guilty as the day was long, they just couldn’t prove it. With a thin smile, Vasily shut his prote down. “Of course, sa. The strictest of confidences. I swear on my life.”
Garth beamed. “It was the most goddamn fun I’ve had in thirty thousand years.”
MACHINATIONS OF A MACHINE MIND
“Griffin.”
The voice was frantic, so the Enforcer stopped what he was doing and addressed his superior.
“Yeah?” Griffin watched a handful of Offworlders, real, honest-to-gosh aliens fleeing, their bizarre little alien bodies aching with the strain of moving so quickly. Terrible fires raged all around him; carefully timed explosions consumed buildings formed by the natural secretion of elements stronger than anything built by Man.
“Garth N’Chalez is at great risk.”
Griffin examined the report for all of three seconds before dumping the data. He sighed. “Ya’ll know there’s no point in worryin’.”
“This is a complex situation, Griffin. In order for the scenario to pay off to the fullest extent, he needs to enter Bravo and recover the information inside, but in order for him to reach this goal, he will need to fight his way through their army.”
Griffin sidestepped a luckily aimed blob of semi-solid resin that, over time, could defeat even his own armor’s defense systems. He snorted. “An’ yew don’t want him to be too rough an’ tumble. Yew fucked up lettin’ them idjits get as they did, son. Protectin’ Bravo as yew did makes a sort o’ sense, shore, but damn… them Latelians are jes’ a squirt away from bein’ Kith an’ Kin. Even with our man locked down tight as he is, his damn morphology’s goin’ haywire raght about now. Short o’ givin’ him the fuckin’ thang, Trinity, there ain’t no way for him to git to it other than on his own terms, an’ that means he gone be tough by the time he gits there, even with all that neural sheathin’ in place. Ya’ll’re lucky he ain’t like the rest of us.”
“I am working to provide him with a method of access that will not compromise my agent on Hospitalis. Will he take the bait?”
“Well,” Griffin shot a bolt of lightning out his fingers and watched the flickering blue light snake through the city for a while before continuing, “he might not. He always was a mistrustful cocksucker. Played shit close to his chest the whole time we soldiered together. If it looks too easy, Trinity, he’ll bolt, come at it from ‘nother angle.”
“Do you know what’s in Bravo, Griffin? Do you know why only he can open it?”
Griffin shifted hands and delivered a long torrent of vibration-filled energy directly into the core of the planet. He felt an almost sexual thrill when the crust of the insect world began to rupture and buckle under the monumental stress. “Not really, son. Mission parameters or some damn thing. Ya’ll should be thankin’ Baby Jesus he wasn’t all that trusted, else he’d be runnin’ around like a goddamn black hole, rippin’ up shit all the way. Only he can get in, only he knows the total mission. An I already done tole y’what Lisa said afore she fucked off. Garth ain’t no good to no one until he gets inside, and if y’try an’ stop him, only thing’ll happen is a whole lotta trouble comin’ your way. You want what you want, you gotta let this happen in its own time, then spin the shit outta it.”
“Have you found Lisa Laughlin?”
“Shit, son … that crazy bitch was awake for the whole nap. You got any idea what that did to her? Goddam thirty thousand year old Kith’kineen telepath? I reckon she can go wherever the hell she wants, do anything. Ya’ll should be pissin’ in yer pants with gratitude she bugged the fuck out. I seen signs she’s out there, but just hints. She’s prolly the one as set our boy back on the path in the first place. She was loyal to them ole Armies of Man, shore enough.” Griffin chuckled.
“Was he loyal to the Armies of Man?” Trinity pressed. “Was he?”
“Naw. Old hoss... Th’ thangs they did to ‘im … well hell, they were worse’n anything I ever did see, an’ I done seen a whole lot.” Griffin flew up and away from the planet before the core of the planet erupted and headed on to his next target. “O’ course, he was on board with stoppin’ the M’Zahdi Hesh an’ alla that, but it was all personal. I reckon that was on account of his daddy an’ all. Hardest motherfucker I ever saw, an’ he was only half as hard as his boy.”
“Very well.” Trinity ended the communication abruptly.
As he continued delivering death and destruction to the insect race, Griffin shook his head in disgust. Thirty thousand years into the future, master of trillions upon trillions of lives, and the goddamn computer was still an idiot.
The Doctor is In
“Can I help you, sa?”
Doctor Sullivan looked up from the chart Sheet he held in his hands. He smiled at the nurse. “My name is Doctor Sullivan. I’ve been appointed by the Chair to examine Garth Nickels and to assist with his recovery.”
Head Nurse Evans smiled back. “Isn’t he amazing, Doctor? The only one out of all those people to survive! Is there anything we can do to assist?”
Sullivan thought that over for a long moment, watching hospital employees move around the wing. “I’ll need a personal assistant, Head Nurse. Someone conversant enough in genetics and the more advanced augmentations a person can acquire. Someone who can take direction without asking questions and most of all, someone who doesn’t touch me.”
“Sa?” Nurse Evans frowned.
“I suffer from an advanced case of thixophobia, Nurse Evans.” When Sullivan saw the word meant nothing to the woman, he bluntly added, “I cannot bear physical contact from other people.”
“But…”
Sullivan stared at the Head Nurse until her frown faltered and disappeared. “It is why I went into pure research. The Chair has made a specific request that I preside over this … this Garth N’C
halez, sorry, Nickels, so naturally, I cannot refuse. I will not be touched, though. Not now, not ever. Spread the word, Head Nurse. Chairwoman Doans wants to understand how this man survived where God soldiers perished. If I am touched, I will leave and the Chairwoman will find reason enough to display her displeasure to this hospital. Are we clear?”
Head Nurse Evans nodded silently, holding her face carefully neutral. Many doctors were … cold, but this Sullivan had taken it to the next level.
A brilliant smile flashing across his face, Sullivan returned the nod. “Excellent. Now, be about the task of finding me my assistant. I shall need to take samples immediately.”
Doctor Sullivan watched the nurse scurry away before turning towards the room where Garth N’Chalez was staying. According to the medical Sheet, the ‘Survivor of the Port Disaster’ was being heavily medicated; even unconscious, arm battered and blown up and missing a significant amount of blood, tissue and skin, Garth had prevented anyone from treating his wounds. The doctor opened the door and stared thoughtfully at the fitfully slumbering ex-SpecSer.
