The Orion Deception

by Tom Bielawski

  "...Recent polls show that the governments of non-Terran Commonwealth states favor ending Commonwealth jurisdiction over their populations and removing trade laws which they consider burdensome and barriers to growth..."

  Arnold's grin grew bigger, his pearly white teeth nearly glowing in the flickering light of the hologram.

  "...The Drift States Caucus in Parliament, in their typically aloof way, rejected any measure that would prop up the failing governments of Earth. According to reports, member states such as Churchill Drift, which still claims symbolic allegiance to the British Crown, have officially joined the Free Frontier Alliance. The FFA is a watchdog group that formed nearly five years ago in the wake of Prime Minister Horatio Arnold's historic reelection for the purpose of monitoring what they felt were Mr. Arnold's 'dictatorial tendencies.' The current member states who participate in FFA activity are Liberty Islands Drift, Palmetto Drift, and Freedom Drift..."

  Arnold hooted and slammed a hand down on the surface his desk in glee. The FFA were wrong, however. Arnold had no intentions or aspirations of becoming a dictator, though he suspected that FFA probably knew they weren't far from the truth; he wanted to become Emperor! Emperor Arnold I, of the Imperial Commonwealth Alliance. He would use the term "alliance" loosely, in much the same way the Communists of the 20th Century often described themselves as "people's republics." It was just a way to soften the hard image of an empire to its subjects. And subjects they would become, for there would be no choice.

  "...The divide between the governments of the Earth and those of the drift states has widened considerably in recent months. Earth governments are blaming the drifts for the bad Terran economy and insist that the drifts do not pay enough money in taxes to the Commonwealth in light of their better financial standing. Canadian Prime Minister Jacques St. Teresa, along with the leaders of Mexico and Brazil, is calling for the drifts to 'pay their fair share' to the Commonwealth and support their Earth-bound partners in society. The Earth governments are largely dependent upon money from the Commonwealth to provide the most basic services to their citizens.

  "These leaders have put a resolution before the Security Council demanding the drifts be fined for their insubordination. The resolution authorizes the Commonwealth Prime Minister to use force in collecting these fines..."

  The PM thought that last sentence was rather like icing on the cake. The failing Earth governments would gladly authorize the use of force to collect money from the successful governments of the drifts in order to survive. While the drifts were prepared to use force to cut ties from the weak governments of the Earth, and the Commonwealth, in order to survive.

  A cold war among the member states of the Commonwealth had actually begun in the form of strained trade relations among member states. Some of the drifts now refused to trade with Earth governments and were, for the moment, using the incompetence of Commonwealth Parliament to justify their acts. The Parliament had become so completely dysfunctional, and its Members so beholden to those who had placed them in power, that it was only a matter of time before the drift governments chose to go their own way.

  Some already had.

  A number of vids and holographic tickers fed the PM a constant deluge of news from the Commonwealth member states, but he had long since learned to absorb much of the info with the sound muted.

  The dapper looking newsman disappeared as suddenly as he had appeared with a tap of Arnold's meaty index finger on the desk interface. Arnold swung his chair around to face the window again and looked out at the illusory blue sky over the city. He kicked off his shoes and put his toes in the thick, plush, carpet enjoying the feel of the soft fibers. A gentle chime behind him alerted the PM that a visitor was waiting outside his door.

  "Enter," he said aloud. The door to his office slid open and a tall man with a sickly looking face. The man stood before the PM's desk, waiting patiently to be addressed. After a moment, Arnold did spin his chair back around to face the newcomer.

  "Yes?" he asked, feigning indifference. The man was tall and appeared to be physically fit, but his eyes seemed haunted and shrouded in shadows. He was bald and covered his pasty head with a knit cap, presumably to keep his head warm.

  "I have reports for you, Prime Minister." The newcomer’s voice carried an almost sibilant sound, which set Arnold's teeth on edge.

  "Good. Tell me about the state of my Commonwealth."

  "It stands on the brink of war, as you already knew." Arnold noted the scorn in the voice of the newcomer. "Our efforts in that area over the previous months ignited what had been brewing beneath the surface. The Drift States have formed alliances for common defense and the Terran States are looking for someone to blame for their insufferable woes."

  "Which could be me, if we don't properly set this on the Parliament."

  "You stand on the knife's edge, Prime Minister. If you do not proceed carefully, the knife will split you in two."

  "You believe we can succeed?"

  "I know we can, but only with discipline. I have seen this strategy work time and again; my people tend not to learn from history."

  "All right," answered the PM. "I'm committed now. I will play it out to the very end if I must."

  "Indeed."

  "What assurances do I have from your people?"

  "As I have said, Prime Minister, my ship and crew will be at your disposal when war breaks. Rest assured, our weapons are superior to your own in every way. The war will be ended quickly and you will have your empire, though it may be smaller than what you had hoped for."

  "Bah," he waved his hand dismissively. "From the ashes will come a new empire, one that will thrive on trade with your own people and the resources you possess."

  "You stand to gain much, Prime Minister, as do we. It is in our collective interest that this plan succeed from the force of overwhelming violence."

  Arnold smiled cruelly. He had in fact seen a demonstration of the specialized weapons the newcomer had in his possession. A warm sensation flooded his body as he recalled the devastating power of plasma cannons and the long range plasma artillery. Plasma weapons had the amazing ability to accept programming that would deliver varying effects on targets. But the most commonly used effects of the plasma weapons in the arsenal of his new ally were incendiary, explosive, corrosive, and adhesive; the last being most effective in disabling a spacecraft without damaging its cargo. The troops of Orion's Sword also carried pistols, rifles and edged weapons capable of similar feats but to a lesser degree.

  And that was just a taste of their might.

  "Palmetto Drift, which withdrew from the Commonwealth a year ago, has successfully recruited an armed force of volunteers and regulars. The Palmetto Defense Force, such as it is, has already staffed a full combat division with aerospace and ground elements in support."

  "How did they do that so quickly?"

  "They have relied heavily on volunteers from other drifts who seem likely follow Palmetto's withdrawal from the Commonwealth. The Palmetto Defense Force will continue to grow and become more organized as they train in their secret locations."

  "Mmm. And their Fleet?"

  "Currently only a small fleet of regular patrol craft and they have a number battleships under their command. However, they have recently taken a page from your book Mr. Prime Minister."

  "How so?"

  "The Palmetto Drift government is recruiting an impressive fleet from the dregs and castoffs of the Outer System. They are offering Fleet commissions to some, pardons to many, and Letters of Marque to those who can provide a fleet to sail under the Palmetto flag. As you can imagine, it has proven a popular concept among those who have been declared criminals or terrorists by your government."

  "Have we lost any of our own fleet to deserters?"

  "Not yet, sir. But you should expect some as more drifts withdraw from the Commonwealth."

  "I have already placed the Defense Minister on guard for signs of discontent within the Fleet." The Prime Minister wal
ked across the soft carpet and poured himself a glass of brandy from a crystal bottle in his cabinet. He gestured to the glass but the Orion agent shook his head. "Ahh, I had forgotten that your disposition precludes alcohol consumption."

  His ally said nothing in reply, merely staring at the Prime Minister with his cold eyes.

  "Tell me of my other problems. Have you handled them for me?" asked the PM as the man reached into a pocket. "The last five have been eliminated, I trust?"

  "Orion does not fail," said the man simply. He placed a small drive onto the PM's desk and a hologram flared to life. Three short video recordings played, each displaying a murder of prominent members of Parliament and the PM's cabinet. Arnold was enraptured by the vids and his heart bubbled in triumph. He could not fail now.

  "They got what they deserved for abandoning me," he whispered to himself. "All of my Centaurus loose ends but two have been taken care of. Good work."

  The man nodded and collected his drive.

  "Have you found the renegade marshal?"

  "No, Mr. Prime Minister."

  "He must not be allowed to interfere!"

  "Do not worry, sir. We have ensured that his reconciliation with the Commonwealth was short-lived."

  "What about Director Hall? Can he be trusted? He helped Thomas once already."

  "The assistance Director Hall extended to Marshal Thomas was done so at our own direction. If you will remember, former director Gem Revelier departed from your flock. He had mistakenly assumed that the Centaurus Device would provide him with the firepower he needed to take over the Commonwealth. He did not believe in our FTL technology due to the miscalculation that brought us here."

  "And he almost succeeded," said the PM. "Had it not been for your intervention, he would have been seen as a hero for having destroyed the Ukrainian mafia and bringing the mastermind behind the attack on the CS Marauder to justice."

  "A narrow victory on our part, certainly. But Director Hall has been made to see the wisdom in accepting our judgment and seems to be on the correct side. For the time being he will be allowed to live. He is under close surveillance and, thus far, has made no moves to create any damaging files."

  "If he does..?" Arnold let the question hang.

  "Then he will have an unfortunate accident, sooner rather than later."

  "Good, I can't have any little surprises popping up in the media, can I?" The dark looking man nodded solemnly in response to the Prime Minister. "Are we sure there are no others who are aware of the Centaurus Device?"

  "We have been assured by Director Hall that Heck Thomas is now the only person alive with intimate knowledge of the device. There were others of the Ryevolutiza, and of course Gem Revlier, but those problems have all been eliminated. And when the Director meets his own unfortunate demise, that will only leave the Marshal."

  "What are you doing about him?"

  "He is being tracked by one of my assassins and will be disposed of."

  "Just one?" asked the PM. "You failed to destroy the man when all he wanted to do was to go through the wormhole after his dead girlfriend. Now he has a purpose to thwart us and you have one agent after him?"

  "One will be enough."

  "Let us hope so." The PM spun his chair back around to look out the window. Everything was riding on this and only Heck Thomas now stood in the way.

  "What kind of assassin, Orion?" The PM had taken to calling the man Orion, he couldn't seem to pronounce the man's name. "Is he one of your people? Because your people seem a bit weak in nature. Not quite so much meat on their bones!" the PM said with a snicker.

  "No," said the dour man, failing to see the humor. "We recruited him from the ranks of the Crescent Moon."

  "Ahh," said the PM with a smile. "They do make good assassins. Why they agreed to my terms, I'll never understand."

  "Having dominion over what they deem their rightful home is not so hard to understand."

  "Well, it still seems as though I got the better end of that deal."

  "Perhaps, Mr. Prime Minster. I would caution against optimism until they have been properly dealt with. Their kind are unpredictable."

  The PM nodded and tapped the tips of his fingers together, his mind having already moved away from that part of the conversation. Then he tapped the interface on the glassy desktop and the image of Heck Thomas and an unknown woman fleeing from a small town bar in Florida illuminated the air above the desk. "We received this surveillance video not long ago. It's from Mason, Florida, where Thomas was last seen. We are gathering a file on the woman now."

  "Yes, we have already seen this video." The comment earned a raised eyebrow from the PM, who didn't like to be scooped on good intelligence work. He made a mental note to have a chat with his intelligence chief about this. "A tipster recognized Marshal Thomas from a news feed and reported him. The local police failed to capture him and he fled into the wilderness.

  "The woman is Lainne Connor, the sister of FTL engineer Dr. William Connor."

  "I take it you already know why she is with Heck Thomas?"

  The visitor did not answer immediately and a look of anger flashed across the typically impassive face. "It seems Ms. Connor's purpose was to hire Heck Thomas to find her brother."

  "We have him on the project?" asked the PM.

  "Yes, sir."

  That news certainly gave the PM pause. While the leader of the Commonwealth did indeed receive updates on the people who were being brought onto his top secret FTL project, he didn't necessarily hear every name. Dr. William Connor was the only person who had successfully cracked the FTL code, and that was before he was brought on to the Orion Project. The FTL code was the formula that scientists theorized was needed to allow organic matter, such as human beings and their spacecraft, to pass through the space-time barrier out of normal space and into the in between space to travel faster than light, then return back to normal space.

  And only Dr. William Connor, of Aurora Aerospace Industries, had been able to get it done.

  "How long before we can commence our initiative, Orion?"

  "A few more weeks, perhaps less."

  Arnold smiled. "Good. The Parliament is on the verge of calling me out, doubtless they have some insight on my plans. Do you have a store of completed weapons?"

  "We have enough plasma artillery to arm one of your Guard cutters, should your Parliament force your hand sooner than you anticipate."

  "Thank you, Orion."

  "Kindness is not required, Mr. Prime Minister," said the Orion officer with disdain. "We have entered into an arrangement for mutual benefit. The terms will be fulfilled by both parties."

  But Arnold wasn't listening. He spun around in his anti-grav chair with a grin on his face. Then he stopped and looked back out over the masses below.

  "They will bow before me," he whispered to himself. "They will call me Emperor!"

  "May I offer you some words of wisdom, sir?" Arnold turned and glared at the visitor, but did not stop him. "Beware the chains of royalty for they are but chains of a different metal."

  Chapter

  Three

  ~

  The shuttle touched down gently in the parking lot of an old run down pub in the middle of Nowhere, Florida. A rickety neon sign swayed from a chain, The Swampwater Grill. They were in a small town called Astor, located at the south end of Lake George, roughly in the middle of the State of Florida. It was a backwater town, one that Heck had been to only once as young man; it was unlikely that anyone would simply guess he would come here.

  He exhaled deeply as the shuttle settled onto the ground in the vacant lot. All of the main flying lights were off, but Heck could see insects hovering in the dim amber-colored ground lights that illuminated the parking lot. He looked out at the scene before him through the shuttle's windshield; the old building was just as he remembered it. It was three stories, unusually tall for Florida, and it had that Old South feel to it. It was sided with black boards that were faded and weather worn in contrast to i
ts sleek, gray, modern hurricane shutters. The oily black waters of Saint John's River glistened in the moonlight beyond the pub.

  "You!" he said to the cowering man sitting near Lainne. "What's your name?"

  "Micheal Forester, sir," the man gulped. Something was strange about him to the ex-law officer. But Heck hadn't had time to ponder it. He was suspicious of the man simply for the fact that he was on the same shuttle as the government agents who were trying to kill or capture him.

  "What are you doing here, Forester?" he asked as the man approached.

  "Uh, g-going to Tampa to visit my sister. Sir." Heck scrutinized the man closely. He ordered the man to stand still while he frisked him. Finding nothing of interest he returned his attention to the task at hand.

  "Mr. Forester, help that injured woman up and take her downstairs. When we are out of sight, you can call for an ambulance; you might just get one after a while." The man, middle-aged and dressed in a business suit, nodded hastily and did as he was told. The woman was beginning to wake up now. Lainne had been able to get the woman's wounds to close up during flight with some of the wound-bonding cream in the shuttle's first aid kit. The cream would not heal the wound completely but it was very good at sealing lacerations and keeping them from bleeding.

  A hatch on the side of the shuttle opened slowly and a staircase dropped to the ground below. Once again, Heck cursed the Florida humidity and bugs as the warm outside air replaced the cool climate-controlled atmosphere of the shuttle. The balding man put the semi-conscious woman's arm around his shoulder and stepped out of the hatch into the humid Florida night.

  "I would caution you against trusting that man, Mr. Thomas. He does not fit in here," offered the pilot. “I do not know what his purpose on this shuttle is.”

  "I'll keep my own council, thanks." Heck scanned their surroundings from his vantage point inside the shuttlecraft but did not see any potential threats. Still, he knew they could not stay long.