“Tessa, come in. If you’re here to tell me the VISH is reporting there’s going to be an OTS attack on Hemiska Research, you are, regrettably, late.”
She blinked in surprise, halting behind the guest chairs. “No. The VISH didn’t report anything, which is a problem. But if we can put it to the side for a minute, what I’m here to discuss may have some bearing on the problem.”
“Okay. Let’s hear it.”
She sat down, fidgeting around to get comfortable, and tossed her long plaits over the back of the chair. “Hmm. How to best put this…your Prevo technology is on the loose.”
He stared at her for a moment. Her group at Division had played no role in Noetica, which meant she’d learned of it elsewhere. She made no secret of the fact she was deeply steeped in the tech/ware subculture; it was one of the reasons they’d hired her.
“We suspected this might be happening soon. Do you have any sense of how widely it has spread, or whether there’s any chance of suppressing it?”
“Today, a few hundred people have their hands on the tech. By this time next week, it’ll doubtless be thousands.”
If the leak was limited to one world, it might be a small enough number to be contained. “I don’t suppose they’re all are on Seneca by chance? Or any single colony?”
“Uh, no.”
“A shame. Well, it’s too late to reel it back in then. So is this merely a courtesy call to let me know, or are you proposing to do something about it?”
“As a matter of fact…I went ahead and did do something about it.” She blinked slowly, and when her eyes reopened their unusual copper was subsumed in orbs of radiant white.
“Oh, goddammit, Tessa! You can’t just go and hook yourself up to an Artificial—shit, it isn’t Cleo, is it?”
She shrugged. “Better to seek forgiveness than ask permission?”
He sank deeper in his chair. He should fire her on the spot, then order her to toggle the connection off and have Cleo dismantled. No…order first, fire second. The order was more likely to succeed that way.
“I can use this to help Division in so many ways. For one, the VISH hasn’t been able to get beyond the local Seneca OTS chapter into the larger network. It’s good at imitating a person, but it’s not a hacker. We can tunnel into the VISH and hack the OTS network. Plus, I bet we can identify the local members.
“And Olivia Montegreu—she’s a Prevo now, right? Then you need a Prevo to fight her, and since the military no longer has one…” she spread her arms with a speculative, hopeful expression “…here we are.”
She was already referring to herself as ‘we.’ And it appeared the Prevos knew fucking everything there was to know.
“Or, I could demand you tell me where you got the technology from so I can go arrest those involved, detain you if you refuse and forcibly disconnect you from Cleo.” It was empty threat, but he wanted to instill at least a modicum of fear in her.
“Wouldn’t it be so much more fun to do things my way, though?”
So much for that. Fearless, the lot of them. He took a long sip of his drink to buy himself some time.
Gianno had locked her Prevo down so tight the young woman could hardly breathe fresh air, and Lekkas had bolted as a result. Division wasn’t the military. It was an intelligence organization, often engaging in black ops legal only under a most generous interpretation of statutes. It was in many ways the antithesis of the military—volatile, reckless and inventive, operating on the margins of the law and doing what was necessary to protect Federation citizens. Occasionally, to protect everyone.
He set the glass on the desk. “All right. But there need to be a few rules in place. You still work for Division, and so does Cleo.”
A big smile broke across Tessa’s face. “Whatever you say, Director.”
Her tone did not inspire confidence that she intended to abide by even his minimal rules. Nevertheless, they spent the next half hour hammering out semi-reasonable restrictions and guidelines, then a rough mission plan regarding the OTS cell.
When she’d departed, he fixed himself another drink. If only his night were over.
Richard stopped off in the lavatory to splash some water on his face before they went up to Graham’s office.
They had remained at the blast site longer than they were able to do any good. He still felt responsible for OTS, if not as much as he did for Olivia Montegreu. And the weight of responsibility was no lighter on Seneca than it had been on Earth.
Will appeared behind him in the mirror, concern clear beneath the grime coating his features. “You all right?”
He must have been taking too long. He gave Will an anemic grimace. “Just tired. Frustrated. While you’re here, you should clean up, too.”
Will wiped a palm over his cheek and squinted at the dirt it came back displaying. “So I should.” He moved to the adjacent sink and switched on the water, then let it run. “Is it always like that?”
Richard dried his face and rested against the wall. “Like what?”
“Mangled bodies. Limbs with no body left to go with them. Lives shattered. Blood, death. So much death.”
“If you mean how many times have I been forced to stand amidst a massacre like the one tonight…not as many as some, but too often. Set up in a nice office at EASC HQ, it became all too easy to avoid the grim reality, to pretend it isn’t like that. In the First Crux War, though? Before the office? Yes. More than I ever want to remember.”
Will’s gaze remained on the water swirling around the basin. “Is it normal to kind of want to kill whoever did this using my bare hands?”
He huffed a breath and grasped his husband by the shoulders. “Yes. But if you hold onto the sentiment for too long, it’ll eat you alive from the inside. We’ll find them, and they’ll pay. I promise.”
Graham welcomed them in with a weary wave of a hand. “Hell of a night, isn’t it?”
“And early morning.” Richard sat and made an effort to look alert. “You said you needed to talk to us?”
Other than displaying evident tiredness, Graham’s expression was unreadable. “I do. Specifically you, Richard, but having Will here saves you from having to repeat everything to him later, which I know better than to pretend you won’t do.
“Nevertheless, what I’m about to tell you is so classified they don’t have a level for it, and I frankly beg you not to let it go beyond this room. In other words, I definitely should not be telling you this. But because you’re my friend, the tenuous scraps that remain of my conscience demand I do….”
He rolled his eyes at the ceiling. “That’s not entirely true. I’m well acquainted with my conscience yelling at me to no effect. The truth is, in the last year I’ve had too many secrets and lies blow up and bite me in the ass. I’ve lost too many good people to them, and dammit, I don’t want to lose any more.
“If after hearing this you want to resign, return to Earth, I’ll understand. I really will. But it’s not my secret—not my lie. And by telling you now, before it blows up and bites me in the ass, I’m hoping in the end I won’t lose either of you—your work or your friendship.”
Dread gnawed up through Richard’s gut into his chest. Graham was frequently brutally honest, but rarely about himself. Seemed a tough night planned to get worse. “Obviously I don’t care for the sound of this. What is it?”
“I believe in the Federation. I believe in its principles of limited government and individual liberty. I believe it does the right thing more often than the wrong one. But not every time.”
Graham’s chin dropped to his chest. “Back in 2297, Seneca was chafing under Alliance rule, and a growing faction of leaders were ready to be rid of it. But no matter how hard they pushed, the Alliance continued to tighten its grip, narrowing the window in which Seneca would be able to change its circumstances.”
“Graham, I know the history of the First Crux War. I was in the military—I lived it.”
“Of course. I only…so those leaders, of whom
Chairman Vranas and Field Marshal Gianno were two, initiated the coup and declared independence. This led to the blockade, which they were counting on. Finally a chance to provoke the Alliance into war.”
“Declaring independence did that well enough.”
“The suggestion of war ought to have been ridiculous, though. The Alliance military dwarfed the few ships we could commandeer. Its forces could have annihilated us in a matter of weeks.”
Richard shook his head. “But it didn’t. The messy details of the first battle paralyzed the Assembly and military leadership, above and beyond the effect the audacity of the Federation had. They were hesitant to respond, and when they did they responded timidly. And you—” he caught himself “—the Federation had built a fleet in secret, one which matched the Alliance on the battlefield soon enough.”
“We did.”
“Again, you’re not telling me anything I don’t already know.”
Graham nodded. “Then I probably should. The ‘messiness’ of the first battle you referred to? It was our doing.”
“I’m not sure I understand. Yes, your seized ships and one brand new one showed up and taunted the Alliance commander into attacking.”
“The civilian transport that was destroyed, allegedly by the EAS Fuzhou…we shot it down, and in such a way as to make it appear as if the Fuzhou did the shooting.”
“We did what?”
Will had asked the question; Richard was at a loss as to how to respond. He sucked in oxygen and let out the breath with great care. “You murdered your own civilians? To make the Alliance look bad?”
“To slow the Alliance down. To win the hearts and minds of other colonies on the fence. To buy time for the secret fleet to grow larger. That’s what the mission file says, anyway. I wasn’t there, I didn’t…I didn’t know. Not then, not when I joined Division and not when I became Director. Not until a few days ago.”
Richard’s mind reeled. The dread turned to acid in his throat.
He was working for the enemy.
The Federation had been the enemy in the First Crux War, an adversary in the decades since, then ultimately an ally. But they had been the enemy back then for a reason, and it turned out the reason wasn’t the desire for freedom.
Will exploded out of his chair. “They were cold-blooded killers!” The fact that he was running on adrenaline, rage and blood lust elicited by the OTS bombing couldn’t be helping his state of mind.
Richard motioned Will down with a whispered please. “Who was responsible?”
Graham swallowed. “Vranas, Gianno and Darien Terzi, the Director of Intelligence on Seneca at the time, planned and authorized the mission. They called it ‘Operation Colpetto.’ They used one of the new ships, a small recon craft. It snuck into the middle of the Alliance blockade fleet and positioned itself beneath the Fuzhou. They equipped it with a weapon designed to mimic Alliance cruiser weapons.”
His throat worked again. “There’s one more thing. The person who fired the shot that destroyed the civilian transport was Stefan Marano.”
Richard frowned, briefly confused as to why it was a relevant detail. His eVi helpfully filled in the necessary information. “Caleb’s father? You have got to be kidding me.”
Graham shook his head. “I considered the man a friend, and I never had the slightest inkling. I’m positive Caleb didn’t—and still doesn’t—know. And maybe it doesn’t matter. Stefan was following orders from Terzi, and he withdrew from field work shortly thereafter to become an investigator. I’d say he didn’t care for having crossed the thin line into murder, but let’s face it, I’d be speculating.”
Will stood to pace around the office. “After the things I saw tonight…our government is no better than OTS.”
“I don’t believe that, but I concede it may look that way from where you’re at. Vranas and the others hoped the action would save lives in the end and prevent a wholesale slaughter of Senecan lives, soldier and civilian. Can’t say if they were right. I doubt anyone can.”
“But at what cost? Their integrity? Their very souls?”
Graham shrugged weakly. “I don’t have any good answers for you, Will. Civilians die in war all the time? Admittedly, not usually at the hands of their own side….”
Richard worked to keep his voice level. “Why now?”
“Why did I find out now?” Graham grimaced. “To be blunt, Lekkas learned of it and is using it as insurance against us trying to apprehend her. Her mother piloted the recon craft, though she wasn’t in on the plan. It’s all a bloody mess, but that’s neither here nor there.”
He snorted. “You think it’s a bloody mess now? If the Alliance finds out, the last shreds of our friendly relations will disintegrate. Then things will get ugly.”
“No doubt. The credibility of our Chairman and the head of our military would be ruined. The entire government might fall, but Vranas and Gianno would almost certainly be replaced. But none of those issues should be your concern.”
Richard was quiet for several seconds. Then he stood, offering only a curt rejoinder. “Thank you for telling me. I need some time. We both do.”
Graham nodded quickly, and Richard gestured to Will. “Let’s go home.”
Will was still visibly enraged as he followed Richard out. Even taking into account the night’s trials, it was strange he would react this strongly.
Or maybe Richard had simply become far too jaded. With life, with the evil that good men do.
18
EARTH
SAN FRANCISCO
* * *
CLAIRE ZABROI LICKED HER LIPS in anticipation as she strolled with exaggerated nonchalance down Folsom Street toward Rincon Park. The damp air chilled her bare arms.
Warmth.
Her Prevo consort promptly began warming her skin. She smiled. This was fabulous.
The lights and sounds increased as she navigated the next block. Rincon Hill had served as a haven for the tech/ware counterculture for decades, but now it had become the unofficial favorite gathering spot for a new breed of warenut.
The Prevo tech had spread like wildfire since being quietly shared by the former members of Noetica, doubtless as they intended. Information was meant to be free, right?
She’d been fascinated to discover Alex was the first—the originator of the idea, in fact. Her next reaction had been resentment at not having received an invitation to be in the initial wave of people receiving the tech. But then she’d learned Alex was unequivocally ‘elsewhere.’ So it was all good now.
Not everyone who claimed to be a Prevo actually had the balls to go through with it. An ocular implant enhancement which mimicked the glowing irises had been rushed to market. Sales were brisk, and now no one could distinguish human from Prevo on sight. In theory it worked to protect them, but so far the most common users were posers.
The amusing part was the posers apparently didn’t realize how easily true Prevos saw past their charade. Many ways existed to identify them, their absence from the Noesis being the most obvious.
She activated a hit of Surf and drifted amid the Noesis, caressing the consciousness of others in the way one might brush past someone on the sidewalk. Some recognized her presence and reached out in acknowledgment; she returned the gestures but kept moving, much as she did in the real world.
Ahead of her multiple sensory overlays transformed the block into a Prevo-controlled circus. It became impossible to tell what was physical, what was virtual and what represented sidespace. The most skilled and adept of the new Prevos were already transcending the Noesis mindspace to begin to explore the far more cryptic sidespace dimension, and she appreciated their efforts here.
With the chimeral high adding to the mixture, she pretended she floated through a madman’s warped, upside-down performance art fantasy. What a trip….
A concentrated cluster of presences to the left caught her attention. Someone—almost certainly more than one someone, not that it mattered here—was hacking an exceedingly secu
re network.
She fixated her perception on the cluster, and they opened to her. PanPacific Tech Labs was the target. She gave them a little boost of processing power and a snippet of one of her most clever hacking algorithms then continued on. Embarcadero Taproom was on the next block, and what high couldn’t be made better by the addition of alcohol?
The explosion ahead seemed to be part of the sensory experience at first. A hack gone wrong? Some twat showing off by buggering up the virtual layer?
Then the screams penetrated the shared mindspace—
Can’t breathe
—Claire gasped, the rawness of the terror flooding her mind—
Help, my leg is trapped underneath
—Not her leg? Someone else’s leg. Because she was still walking, wasn’t she?
Hurts I don’t want to
—Another blast, larger, louder, shaking her eardrums, the tangible ones. Few screams followed this one, only presences blinking out of the Noesis like stars going dark.
People ran on the fringes of the explosions, in no direction and all directions. Her hands found something solid, and she pressed against the façade of a building.
Smoke and fire bloomed everywhere, even in the virtual layers. It couldn’t be real there, but instead a manifestation of the mental confusion and panic.
Violent streaks of light crisscrossed…which space? She blinked, trying to draw her consciousness back into herself and block out all the pain flooding the Noesis. It didn’t work.
Was she in pain? She raised a hand to her face and found it soaked in blood. Oh, frag it all…
Congealing skin around the wound and decreasing blood flow to the area. Medical attention is suggested, but you are not in immediate life-threatening danger. Not from the wound.
Really? Because it hurts like a son of a bitch. Narcotics. All the narcotics.
Done. We should vacate this area.
Dizziness from the painkillers made the ground shift and undulate beneath her, but it was so much better than the pain. She blinked and tried to focus.
Dissonance: Aurora Renegades Book Two (Aurora Rhapsody 5) Page 10
