by Nick M Lloyd
James rolled his eyes. The concept of getting budget approval from the MOD was an anathema to him—G60 never asked for any additional budget, as it might make the executives review the current allocation. ‘Okay, thanks. How about the personal archives of the old G60 directors? Do you have access to those?’
‘The personal archives are stored in the MOD for national security reasons, and they’re never shared with anyone other than the archive owner, or the Prime Minister in the case of national emergency.’
‘Okay, thanks. I’ll consider another angle. And thanks again for what you did send.’ James put the phone down and turned back to his computer to determine the name of the G60 Director for 1962 and 1965. The search was straightforward and he soon found out Molly Saunders had been the chief in the 1960s. Unfortunately, Molly passed away in the early 2000s. James continued his investigations and managed to get the name of the Deputy Director who had been active through most of the 1960s and 1970s. His name was Dougy Raddlestone. His personnel record gave very little information except that he was still alive, and he was living in Surrey. James sent an email to the MOD Human Resources team asking for contact information for Dougy on a matter of national security.
Now to the leak?
Given that Louise Harding was a reporter, if she was asking questions it was likely she had a reason. He needed to find someone to investigate her. There was no way he could approach her work place, The Daily Record, they were the enemy. James considered his options.
James returned to the MOD report that he’d run earlier in the week on Louise Harding. There were a few other items, over and above the mention of her court appearance for harassment. She was registered as married, and she had been listed on a Home Office system as a hunt saboteur. Not sure if there’s an angle there?
The afternoon wore on, with James browsing various social media sites on which Louise was registered. James was fixated on keeping the search entirely within G60; it was too much of a risk to his budget if he came to the attention of people higher up. G60 received the same amount of budget as a small hospital A&E department, and James spent that money looking for aliens and investigating paranormal activity. No-one with any sense could be allowed to become aware of his existence. James continued to search.
Bingo!
The husband, Jeff Harding, was a science lecturer at North London University of Science and Technology. NLUST! The MOD has worked with them a few times before. This was a route in.
James called up the MOD academic coordination manager and between them they looked for someone at the university who had sufficient security clearance. They found Bob Reaple, who worked in a similar department to Jeff. Well, both in Materials Science.
The coordination manager gave James the contact details, and James gave him a call. ‘Hi, Bob. This is James Chambers. I’m a department head within the MOD. I believe you worked with a colleague of mine, Major King last year?’
‘Yes, that’s right. I think I remember the drill. I’ll call you back through the MOD switchboard and give them my identification number?’
James smiled to himself. The voice that came back over the phone had sounded very certain and competent.
A few moments later they were securely connected. ‘Hello again. Thanks for being so prompt. There’s a possibility the MOD will benefit from some informal support from you over the next few weeks. Nothing too onerous, we hope.’
‘By informal, I assume you mean unpaid?’
‘I’m afraid so, but it shouldn’t be more than a few hours.’
‘So what’s it about?’
‘National security, I will have to come and discuss with you face-to-face. Can you make tomorrow? I can come to near you, say Hampstead?’
‘Sure—Heath Street Baristas at 10?’
‘Great.’ James put down the phone and resumed his investigations of Louise Harding.
The following day James walked up towards the coffee shop rehearsing the meeting in his head. He needed to get Bob on side, but without telling him anything, while also not giving away the fact that he himself actually knew nothing anyway.
James recognised Bob from the MOD photo he’d received from the MOD academic coordination department. Although Bob didn’t appear to be wearing glasses. Contact Lenses? And Bob appeared to have lost what little hair he’d had when the photo had been taken a few years previously. Still it was definitely the right guy.
‘Bob Reaple? I’m James Chambers.’
‘Good to meet you James.’ Bob had the easy air of a man used to being listened to and obeyed. They shook hands.
Bob had already secured a table in a deep corner of the café. James shuffled his chair around to Bob’s side and took out copies of the various official secrets forms from a few years previously. ‘Just to remind you what you’ve signed up to.’ Then James showed his MOD Identity Card. Bob looked a little nervous, that was to be expected; the documentation was plastered with aggressive wording.
Bob remained silent and James continued. ‘Within the North London University of Science and Technology, there is a professor called Jeff Harding, do you know him?’
‘Junior professor.’ Bob corrected James. ‘I know of him, but he works in Metallics. Our paths don’t really cross.’
‘Ok, not perfect, but we’ll work with what we have.’ James took a breath. It was tenuous, but it was all he had, and he had to start somewhere. ‘Jeff is under observation by the MOD. He and his wife, Louise, are poking around a sensitive 1960s programme called Project Hedgehog.’ James paused. Mostly true. He continued. ‘The UK government wants Project Hedgehog to remain hidden. It had some troubling aspects.’ Probably true. ‘We want you to use your connection to Jeff through the university to find out what he knows without alerting him.’ Absolutely true.
Bob nodded. ‘So there is a programme…’
‘Was. It closed down 40 years ago.’
‘So there was a programme, and the MOD wants it to remain hidden. You want me to find out what Jeff and Louise know.’
James nodded.
‘So what was the project about?’
‘I’m sorry but I can’t tell you.’
Bob persisted. ‘Surely you must be able tell me something? Even if it is top secret. I’m likely to find out what Jeff knows.’
James shook his head.
Bob broke eye contact with James and looked around the room. Then he turned back to him. ‘Can you give me any leads?’
‘I just need you to find out what they know, and ideally how they found it out.’ James took a zip drive out of his pocket and passed it to Bob. ‘These files give you an idea of the Hardings’ recent online activities, but it’s not complete, mostly just their search queries.’ James passed over a piece of paper. ‘That’s the password.’
Bob put the zip drive and the paper into the inside pocket of his jacket. ‘Okay.’
‘Also, it would be useful if you could find out if the Hardings are limiting their activity to Project Hedgehog, or if there are other MOD projects in their sights.’
‘I guess I have a few avenues to see what Jeff is up to. If it’s harmless then it will probably come up in a conversation. If it’s not harmless then he’ll be more guarded.’
James stood up to leave and Bob stood also.
Bob shook James’ hand. ‘I’ll contact you next week, James.’
Once James had left, Bob sat down and pulled out his laptop. Booting up, and inserting the zip drive, he started reading through the files. The Hardings’ activities had included searching a significant number of conspiracy websites as well as some more bona-fide science discussion forums. There were no posts left by the Hardings at all. Bob noted that pretty much all of the searches relating to conspiracy websites stopped several days earlier, on the previous Sunday. His interest was also drawn to the large number of searches they had waded through on mind control and telepathy. Well, it gives me a hook to start my investigation.
Hig
h above the earth, the Gadium mission stored the transcript of James’ conversation with Bob courtesy of a mini-bot secreted on James’ clothes. G60 were old friends of the Gadium mission.
Chapter 24
Back on Gadium, Commander Jenkins sat at his desk fiddling with his personal communications tablet, in a grim mood. Looking up from the tablet his eyes rested briefly on the hologram of his daughter. Yes, he needed something to take his mind off the various missions that were shaking his conscience. He opened up his personal folder.
His daughter, Katrina, was currently on-station at Trogia, and Jenkins had five video diary entries that she’d recorded during the first tranche of her mission. These large video files were delivered the old fashioned way, by courier ship, and so they were all at least 12 years old (just to cover the physical journey back from Trogia).
He’d been rationing them, only watching a new one each year—if Katrina had something critical to say she would say it via QET. Ah, it’s just about time for the next one. It may give me the courage I need. He flicked on the relevant file and an image of Katrina came up on the screen. Her big green scaly face filled the screen with an enormous smile and wide white eyes hosting very green irises surrounding her pitch black slit pupils.
‘Video Log 3—Katrina to Daddy. Hi, Commander Daddy!’
Jenkins reflexively smiled and his shoulders relaxed, he settled back in his chair and the video log continued.
‘I hope your duties on the GEC are not too onerous and you are keeping to our stasis agreements. All in, I reckon I’m going to be away for about a hundred years but I’m still planning to meet our agreement to only age two years. I’ve about a year so far, I’m on target unless there’s some unexpected Emergence.’ Her face screwed up into a mock grimace. ‘Yeah, right! Like I’d get that lucky!’ Katrina’s smile washed away her previous serious expression. ‘Anyway…you’ll see the official stats on Trogia, so I won’t go into them, but the mission Commander here,’ Katrina frowned, ‘has said we are not going to start removing Triple Alphas for at least five hundred more years—I’ll be long gone by then.’
This was not new to Jenkins. The GEC had ordered Trogia to be left fallow for a fairly arbitrary five thousand years to allow the population to stabilise and forget about the previous Gadium interference. Trogia was still stuck in a Partial Emergence with around 1% of the population in Alpha status (and the rest Betas, excepting a small number of Triples). There were a handful of Alphas each century who spontaneously transformed into Triple Alphas but these were left to their own devices as long as they did not exhibit any signs of turning into Despots. It was undoubted that those few Triple Alphas were continuing to hold down the Beta to Alpha transition rates. Jenkins turned his attention back to the video then, realising he’d missed a section during his thoughts, he rewound.
‘…five hundred more years—I’ll be long gone by then. It’s all stable now, we’ve pretty much removed all consequential alien and Emergence references. We’re just a myth to them now.’ Katrina’s face was uncharacteristically still for a moment and then she continued. ‘They’re just back to the basics: eat, sleep and screw.’ She paused. ‘They seem quite happy; I’m not sure we shouldn’t just leave them to it…anyway, I’m continuing with my studies, mostly on the probability wave harmonics and double conscious resonance factors.’ Katrina shook her head and smiled. ‘Impenetrable doesn’t even come close.’
Jenkins paused the video, carefully savouring this new interaction with Katrina. He knew that within a few months he would have utterly memorised every word and facial expression. He smiled ruefully, reflecting on her views. Why? Because it’s our obligation to the universe to interfere.
He leant back in quiet contemplation. He’d never pushed any interventionist message with Katrina. He had been very careful to keep her safe from any of his more risky activity.
Suddenly, Jenkins was brought back to the present by one of his aides coming into his office.
‘Sir, an emergency subcommittee has just been called by the Chairwoman. Apparently, the Rolumpus Sector is having a freedom uprising.’
Jenkins got up immediately and marched out of his office, his aide trailing in his wake. Rolumpus was a problem. They were only a few hundred light years away and had always resented Gadium controls. ‘How big is this uprising?’
‘Hard to say, sir, but the current estimate is that four or five star systems are involved, but it’s mostly centred on Rolumpus itself.’
Jenkins thought for a moment. ‘The usual grievances and demands?’
‘Yes sir, their demands came through a few hours ago. They want to have access to three of their neighbouring systems, all of which are denied due to the presence of unemerged sentient species.’
‘So what’s this meeting for? Approval of capital force?’
‘Yes sir. The feeling is a short sharp attack on the main industrial bases will deter them. We’ve got enough assets on-site to make a decent impact.’
‘And our comms limits?’
‘The QET Grid is fine, sir, plenty of bandwidth.’
A short time later, Commander Jenkins entered the meeting room. The Chairwoman had not arrived, and unusually, the Deputy was not huddled in a corner of the room with his entourage. He was standing at the conference table, behind the Chairwoman’s place, and was deep in conversation with Commander Sharnia.
As Jenkins approached the table, he caught the tail end of the point Sharnia was making. ‘…and so, Deputy Chairman, given that the Rolumpus are demanding the right to develop AI, this could be the time to restart internal discussions on whether we can use more advanced technology ourselves.’
The Deputy nodded at Sharnia while waving Jenkins into the conversation. ‘Good afternoon, Commander Jenkins. Are you up to speed on the current set of events in the Rolumpus Sector?’
‘It seems like a standard suppression activity.’
The Deputy turned away from Sharnia, and focused fully on Jenkins. ‘Standard…I suppose…But difficult. The Rolumpus Sector has been gearing up its military capability for 20 years. We’ve got much more advanced weaponry, but the difficulties associated with reinforcements mean we can’t afford to go too easy on them.’
Sharnia eyed Jenkins intently. ‘A short sharp shock is the best option. Treason will not be tolerated.’
As usual, Jenkins strained to meet her eye. Best option for who, though? Had Sharnia been self-reflective, she may have concluded that the sharp shock was best for ensuring that the Gadium population were able to fulfil their destiny. But Jenkins was not sure that she wouldn’t go further and say it was best for all of the species under the Gadium protectorate—they receive peace and prosperity. But at the cost of self-determination.
He turned his attention back to the conversation.
The Deputy nodded. ‘Quite so, Commander…an object lesson in not biting the hand that has fed you…if you will excuse us.’ The Deputy manoeuvred Jenkins back towards their own seating area.
As they started to move away, Sharnia obstructed Jenkins’ path. ‘Commander, my grandson Aytch is on the Earth Mission with Justio. You were with him on Darth, weren’t you?’
Jenkins nodded. ‘Yes, he was an excellent team member. I’m sure Aytch will learn a lot from him.’
Sharnia took a minimal step out of Jenkins’ way. ‘Not too much, I hope.’
Jenkins manoeuvred around Sharnia and quickened his pace slightly to catch up with the Deputy. The Deputy took his usual seat and motioned for Jenkins to lean in. ‘This betrayal by the Rolumpus cannot be endured. We gave them everything. They will be punished.’
‘The original treaties are many generations old for them now, even with the longevity. Their new guard don’t feel quite the same way about us, and are looking to make their legacy.’
The Deputy hissed. ‘Their legacy will be a decimation, perhaps one of their planets erased by a mini-bot replication swarm, perhaps something else.’
He paused. ‘There may a little hand-wringing before the order is confirmed, but it will be confirmed.’
Commander Jenkins’s eyes flashed wide but the rest of his face remained impassive. He leant in close and whispered. ‘Rumours are starting that the Vantch Mission ship was sabotaged, which is why it’s running slow.’
‘Those rumours are not to be heeded, repeated or discussed here.’
‘I’m concerned about the potential impact on Vantch.’
The Deputy closed off the topic. ‘Not here, Commander.’
Suddenly the doors to the meeting room were flung open and the Chairwoman was announced.
The Chairwoman swept in and headed to the head of the table. Sharnia watched her approach and their eyes locked. Sharnia gave an imperceptible nod of support and got one in return.
The Chairwoman opened the meeting. ‘I call this emergency session to order.’
Sitting next to the Chairwoman as the meeting was opened, Sharnia looked around the table. Where are the traitors?
Her gaze came to rest on Jenkins. Highly regarded, very highly decorated, but she had her doubts about his allegiances. Doubts she felt the Deputy Chairman shared. She looked across to the Deputy Chairman, but his face was a mask, as usual. They’d discussed Jenkins, and nothing was said outright, but she’d felt the Deputy’s disquiet.
Sharnia could not understand why she was concerned, but she had an itch, an instinct. When she’d originally seen Aytch’s posting she’d checked Justio’s background to assure herself he was a good influence for her grandson’s first mission. There had been some grim history in Justio’s past, an incident on the Marhok mission, but nothing so very unusual by Gadium standards. She’d been reassured by the Gadium authorities that Justio had made a full recovery. But during these checks on Justio, she’d come across Jenkins’ name many times, and there were a few inconsistencies in his behaviour.
