by Lee Bond
The video recording ended, but a ream of data filled the screen. While The Museum had been busy being destroyed, Herrig had continued apace, purchasing a whole spectrum of warehouses and facilities across Hospitalis. The spots where The Museum’s detritus were to be stored had been highlighted. That was a bit of good news. That mistuned duronium needed to be dealt with first thing in the morning!
Garth chuckled, shaking his head. Poor Herrig. He was a stand-up guy and didn’t seem to realize that he was an amazing dude. Garth knew that if he had to deal with someone like himself, he’d’ve run away a long time ago. Saving the message, Garth sent a quick-text response promising that the next time the two of them met, Herrig was going to get all kinds of answers.
It was only fair. If the ex-banker was going to continue in his capacity as CFO for the UltraMegaDynamaTron, he needed to be able to work from a position of absolute authority. To ask the man do any less would be criminal.
Beside him, Naoko laughed at a silly message from one of her eighty-three billion friends. She looked up at him. “My friends.” She replied sleepily. “They are so funny. You will like them.”
“Hope so.” Garth accessed the next video message. This one was from Alix, and she wasn’t overly enthused about her number one client’s position inside The Museum.
Alix stabbed a cigarette at him through the screen. “Listen to me, sa, and listen good. I know very well you don’t want to be famous and you’re going to try to do everything in your power to ruin your career, and that’s fine by me. I’m tougher than you are and unless you fire me outright, I am going to continue being your worst nightmare. You will do what I tell you, sa. You stay in that Museum and you hide underneath the dead bodies of other prisoners if you need to. I can’t even begin to explain the kind of problems you’ll have if you start killing terrorists. I don’t care that they are the ‘bad guys’ in the piece. As far as you’re concerned, they are infectious disease carrying maniacs. I will do everything in my power to get you out of the eye as soon as feasibly possible. If you want, do a little prisoner-saving or whatever it is you think might get you some publicity, that’s fine. Just don’t kill anyone. That’s an order.” Alix stabbed her cigarette at Garth again to drive her warnings home and quit the call.
Naoko poked Garth in the stomach. “She sounds very serious.”
“She sure is.” Garth replied. “The seriousest.”
“That is not a word.” Naoko poked Garth in the stomach again and when he moved to protect his stomach, she surreptitiously eyed the bullet wound in his shoulder. It was crusted over and looked a few days old. Simply amazing.
“Is if I say so.”
Naoko poked Garth again, this time in the ribcage, and then settled back down into the couch’s warm comfiness. “What are you going to do about her?”
“Nothing.” Garth showed Naoko the screen and highlighted the next eighteen video messages. All of them were from Alix, and he just bet he could figure out their content. Happily, after sampling a few minutes from each, they abruptly deviated from pleas for his continued good behavior to blatant demands that he tackle Harry Bosch to the ground to get his prote address. She griped for a few seconds about how her ‘usual methods’ of tracking down noteworthy clients had been stripped from her and if he would do her this one small favor, she would do whatever it took to ensure his star faded quickly, quietly, and without fanfare. Then she told him how much he owed her for services rendered, which he paid immediately.
Then, because he couldn’t think of anything better to do, he fired Alixia van derTuppen.
He waved his hand at his Sheet. “See?”
“Yes,” Naoko said slowly, guessing what Garth was so proud of, “but now you are going to have to go on the news shows as Harry Bosch. Isn’t that the same thing as being famous yourself?”
Garth thought about that for a second before shrugging. “Nah, not really. Since Harry Bosch is wanted by every law enforcement agency in the known Universe for attacking all of those God soldiers instead of whacking terrorists, he’s only ever going to do interviews over the prote. And, well, Harry’s the kind of guy who gets upset easily and says whatever’s on his mind. And with your help…”
“My help?” Naoko moved Garth’s Sheet out of the way and climbed into his lap, putting her hands around the back of his neck. “What could I help you with?”
The scent of orange blossoms and jasmine filled his sense. Garth stared into Naoko’s green eyes and felt, for the first time in thirty thousand years, happy. “Uhm, you could help me design an avatar that will answer questions with pre-arranged sound bites.”
Naoko kissed Garth on the lips, impulsively flicking her tongue against his. “I suppose that I could do that.” She kissed him again, and this time, rather than not responding, Garth followed through with a little passion of his own. Naoko leaned in to whisper into his ear. “Where is the bedroom?”
“Uh? Oh!” Garth cleared his throat, painfully aware that Naoko had to know how aroused he was. “Uhm, er.”
Naoko laughed gently into Garth’s ear. “It has been a long, long day, sa. I am tired, and we haven’t even really had a first date yet…so there will be none of that,” her eyes looked playfully downwards, “until you have at least bought me dinner –a real dinner and not hotel food eaten while talking with an extremely upset OverCommander- and met with my father.”
Garth relaxed into an embarrassed and uneasy grin. “It’s, well, okay. I just thought…”
“I know what you thought.” Naoko tweaked Garth’s nose. “And I am thinking it too, but it is too soon. Now, show me to the bedroom, and if you can promise to keep your hands to yourself, we will share the bed, my mighty protector.”
Garth grabbed Naoko around the waist, flung her over his shoulder, and carried her caveman style into the bedroom. He flopped her gently down onto the bed and turned off the lights, then was forced to avert his eyes while she got ready for sleep. “I’m going to have a shower before I sleep. I kind of bled all over myself. It’s gross.”
“Mmhmm.” Naoko murmured sleepily.
Garth didn’t even have to pretend to turn the shower on. She was asleep in seconds. He counted out two minutes before heading out of the apartment.
He really didn’t want to blow up the Guillfoyle Building because he was willing to bet his left nut that the goddamn Chairwoman would figure out some way to charge him for that.
Fucking Hospitalis.
He loved the place.
Public Announcements and Lies are Pretty Much the Same Thing
Chairwoman Alyssa Doans loathed public announcements. She didn’t believe in them. She was Chairwoman, the rightful ruler of a ‘subjugated’ people, and whether she chose to indoctrinate them in the beliefs of democracy or not, there was no need for her to explain her actions to anyone. Public announcements were either apologies or explanations, neither of which the Chair was required to do, at any time, to any one, for any matter.
The Noble Opposition had access to the same files she did, they had the same number of spies in her camp as she did in theirs, they could arrive at their own conclusions and work to discredit her through the various channels as they chose.
Alas, today there was need for a public announcement, whether Alyssa wanted to make one or not: so much had gone on, and in so many unexpected and inexplicable ways that silence, willful enforcement of ignorance or even a late-release Sigma couldn’t repair the damage.
The new OverSecretary was chomping at the bit. Unless she addressed the system now, explaining the incredible events of the day in precisely the right manner, nothing in the Universe could keep her in the Chair and that was the single most important thing.
There was no doubt in Alyssa’s mind that were it not for ‘syntax error’, she and Vasily would be enjoying a quiet meal, overlooking the smoking, charred ruin of The Museum.
Nevertheless, ‘syntax error’ had indeed been the phrase of the day, so to speak, and so Alyssa Doans, Chairwoman of the Latelia
n Regime, was going to speak to the people. Her advisors had suggested the site of the devastated Museum itself as the backdrop for her televised address, though of course the cameramen had been warned –threatened, really- to keep certain … large … pieces of … machinery out of view; she had every intention of discussing the Gunboys but had no wish for the system to see the monstrous beasts as wreckage.
The OverCommander flanked Alyssa on one side. Since the resolution of the situation, he’d taken the time to shower and change into a freshly imposing uniform. Standing next to her, Vasily was a dominating tower of black on black, a dour and intimidating man. The cameras loved him, of course, and he’d rather die than admit he wore the black on black symbol of his office because he thought it made him look good.
To her other side was the wet-behind-the-ears OverSecretary Spillman, either subconsciously mugging for the camera or doing a very poor job of looking magisterial. Hauled out of a ‘private meeting of the minds’ in a downtown brothel, the fool looked less than excited at being forced to be on camera without preparing any speeches of his own. Undoubtedly, his backers and political aides had all but confirmed his ascension to the Chair earlier in the day and had chosen to celebrate in typical boorish fashion. Being summoned to a press release by the Chairwoman had to have the man’s small mind running in circles, rather like a pet on a wheel. Doans hoped none of the reporters were standing downwind of the man; he smelled as if he’d spent the entire day in that whorehouse.
Alyssa, normally one for plain cuts of cloth and coloring, had been given no recourse but to dress in the flaming crimson uniform of her office. She knew she cut an imposing figure sandwiched between the other two who wore all black. Black and red Regime flags fluttered in the wind, the stylized Box on the pennants glowing through the restrained use of subtle holography. Before her, a sea of reporters waited with baited breath. Alyssa nodded once, sharply, and suddenly the Eyes of the System were on her.
“Ladies and gentlemen, sis and sas, I thank you for your patience. Today has been a long and arduous day for many of you. I am making this systemic address to bring to light what has taken place, so that you may understand and revel in the magnificence of Latelyspace.
Today was a test, my people. A test of our resolve, our pride, our systemic prowess. In addition, today was a test of equipment and machines no one has ever seen before. I am proud to say we passed with flying colors.
Some of you are perhaps wondering why we should need to be tested when we have proven ourselves repeatedly throughout five thousand long years of growth. I will tell you why.
Trinityspace is why. The Trinity AI is why. I’ve made no secrets in my belief that we require a closer, more even-handed agreement with Trinity if we are to survive. The signs of attrition rage around us all the time and soon, so soon, if we are unable to demand assistance from a position of strength, we will falter. Is it a fact that the Trinity AI, and by extension, each and every system under It’s control, is in possession of weapons, of sciences, of things far beyond what we are capable of? The Noble Opposition would have you think this is so. The Noble Opposition would have you believe that the Trinity AI could send It’s warships here tomorrow and we would be unable to defend ourselves.
Therefore, a test. Firstly, of the people. What would happen, I wondered, if a group of men and women and, sadly, children, found themselves in a situation where they were forced into a choice that was no real choice at all? For surely, if we are not strong if –when- we fail, Trinity will come, and It will take us by force.
The political terrorist organization ‘run’ by Vilmos Gualf was, in actuality, under the direct control the military the entire time. The man identifying himself as Vilmos Gualf’s had a sole duty, and that was to push the citizens in that Museum into ‘choosing’ his way. He was successful in more ways than you may believe. Yes, many people chose to fight alongside Vilmos, but the choice he left them was join or die. Of those that did join, many threw down their arms and returned to the embrace of the Latelian Regime. Either action was, in this instance, the right action; many showed their willingness to die for their country, many displayed a zeal to fight and some chose to witness. All will be needed if we cannot rise above ourselves when the time comes. You may wish to hate, vilify or condemn those that chose to do nothing, but consider this; who would be left to build our civilization up again if all we had were people who were willing to fight and die for the Regime? No one, and again, we would fade. Trinity has proven Itself to be as near to eternal as a thing can be, so it can wait. Do I regret the loss of life? Absolutely. Every dead citizen weakens us.”
Alyssa paused for a moment, allowing the reporters to get footage for stills. When she was satisfied, she continued; it was possibly not her best speech, but she was Chairwoman and if anyone spoke against her, pointed out any flaws in her argument or gainsaid her, they’d vanish. “A test, as I said. To prove our strength to Trinity, to indicate to this machine mind that, while we might need It’s help, it will be on our terms. It needed to see things like the Gunboys, the FARS-gun, and other, more tactically based weapons and systems that the OverCommander will discuss in just a few minutes; I admit I am no soldier and I will not do our Army justice. Know this though; we revealed but a small portion of our arms and armor today, and I can guarantee that Trinity is taken aback. It imagines us as backwater cousins to It’s more ‘sophisticated’ people, as always forgetting that out of every system in the known Universe, only we have been spared the Dark Ages. It needs our help, too, It just will not admit it. We are five thousand years old. They are sent back to the Stone Age time and again, not us. We grow strong. So strong, in fact, that if we aren’t permitted to move beyond Trinity’s old Sovereignty Act, we will die.”
“A test. Which we passed. Our people are strong. Our people are resilient. Our minds are clear and our science is more powerful than Trinity realizes. We next I meet with Trinity’s representatives, they will think twice about trying to play us down to a position of weakness. Many of you believe I’ve been foolish to treat with the machine mind and It’s corruption from the start, many of you haven’t been quiet in your disdain, in your campaigns to oust me from office, but many of you have been unaware of what I am trying to secure:
More systems. That is what we want, what we need. After five thousand years, we’ve grown to the borders of Latelyspace and we need room to breathe, room to live, room to blossom once more. Trinity will not let us do this if It isn’t directly involved, but we need this, so we must learn to deal with It. It has never been about letting It in to rule. You are fools if you think I will give up my Chair so easily! As if I would let the vast homogeneity of Trinityspace consume our glorious Latelian heritage! So yes, a test. To see if we can withstand the absolute worst. And we passed.”
The cameramen, and through them, trillions of Latelians, boggled. There wasn’t enough time to process everything their Chairwoman was saying to them and barely enough time to deal with the fact that for the first time in recorded history, the Chair was telling the absolute, utter truth. To think that the Chairwoman was fighting for more systems! Arguing, dealing, and subjecting herself to all that was Trinity in an effort to move beyond the now-paltry borders of their own solar system! What courage! What sacrifice! Many saw immediately why Chairwoman Doans had chosen to take the path she had; it was an absolute truth that beyond their borders, Trinity reigned supreme. The only way out was through. Once on the other side … who knew?
Alyssa held her hand up to quell the sudden explosion of applause that’d swelled up from the cameramen, struggling to keep the triumphant smile off her face; she’d had that lie prepared for decades, and while it rankled to have to use it now, it’d pushed her fairly poor speech over the top. A few cameramen tried to get everyone started on a rousing rendition of ‘Rule Lately’ but an impressively stoic gesture from the OverCommander abruptly silenced them.
“Thank you all. Before I pass this announcement over to your OverCommander, there are two
extraneous issues that need to be dealt with.” Alyssa waited a moment to calm her nerves. The precarious house of cards she’d built with her rousing speech could tumble quickly, here. “The two ‘men’ inside The Museum. I use the word ‘men’ lightly, as it is obvious to everyone who saw the footage that they weren’t men at all, but something else entirely.
The first was a mercenary, hired by the Latelian Regime to determine the efficiency of our God soldiers when pitted against overwhelming Trinity ground-based military technologies. Obviously a cyborg, the man’s duty was to push the God soldiers above themselves, to react in ways that they might not ordinarily be able to imagine. As we all saw, what happened was … atrocious. The blame rest with me and me alone. Before today, that mercenary’s loyalties had always been available to the highest bidder, but from what we witnessed today, it is clear that what he saw frightened him out of his wits. Our courage, our fortitude, our overwhelming superiority of numbers and of weapons pushed him over the edge and he violated the terms of his contract the moment he began delivering wholesale slaughter. During the revelation of the Gunboys, he fled somewhere into Central, but not before suffering grave, possibly life threatening, injuries. If he is not already dead, we will find him and punish him. Once his punishment has been completed, he will be dismantled and we will see what we can learn, what we can implement, what we can use to grow stronger still.”
More applause. Alyssa smiled. She felt the half-drunk OverSecretary deflate even as Vasily seemed to grow taller, more impressive. The raucous noise died down a few seconds later; everyone wanted to know about Harry Bosch.
Alyssa cleared her throat. “I am certain by now you are all eager to learn all you can about this mysterious figure, this ‘Harry Bosch’.” Which way would she go, she wondered. “Harry Bosch is … Harry Bosch is the next level of God soldier. To this date, we’ve all considered Fours to be the ultimate expression in Latelian cybernetic sciences, but recent breakthroughs allowed us to create a Five. I am not at liberty to discuss anything remotely resembling specifics concerning the abilities, priorities and sciences going into the construction of a Five. All I need do is refer you to the News4You footage. His … his grandstanding to Tricia Takanawa –unauthorized and wildly inappropriate- notwithstanding, Harry Bosch’s performance today has proved beyond any doubt that we are strong! It is highly unlikely any citizen of Latelyspace will be seeing Harry Bosch any time soon. He must be debriefed, his onboard systems examined, and we must determine whether a Five is actually workable. Now. OverCommander Vasily and OverSecretary Spillman will discuss the various methods employed throughout the day, highlighting for you prime examples of our successes in the aforementioned ‘tests’.” Alyssa spun on her heel and stalked into the waiting aircar.
