Desperate Measures

by Michael Anderle

  * * *

  August 28, 2230, Neo Southern California Metroplex, Apartment of Erik Blackwell

  Erik and Jia approached his apartment with caution, keeping their hands on their guns. Emma had informed them shortly before landing of an intrusion into Erik’s apartment, along with the open presence of Alina.

  They couldn’t be sure if it was a trap. Their spymaster liked her games and craft, but other than sending a passphrase to them the day before, she had not been clear on where and when she intended to meet them.

  Erik rotated his left shoulder. The doctors told him the itch he felt was psychological and would go away once he became more comfortable with his latest replacement arm.

  He agreed with himself that punching an assassin in the face with the cybernetic limb would be a good way to break it in.

  They took up positions on either side of the door and checked the hallway. Emma had secured the cameras and doors of the other apartments to cover them, but it cost nothing to check.

  Jia drew her stun pistol. Erik readied his slugthrower. Alina might be on the other side of the door, or the conspiracy might have come to get their alien toys back.

  “Open it, Emma,” Erik ordered.

  The door slid open. Erik and Jia charged into the apartment, covering both sides. They jogged away from the door to avoid immediate explosives, but Emma closed the door without incident.

  “Got her,” Jia called, her stun pistol pointed down the hallway.

  Alina wandered into the living room at a lazy pace, showing no visible concern about the weapons pointed at her. “Confirm the answer to the greatest, most honest question.”

  “What is the population of Diogenes’ Hope?” Jia replied.

  Alina smiled and settled onto the couch, draping one leg over the other. “I’d thought about doing this at a restaurant, but security’s been heightened at both your places since your return from the mission anyway. It makes it easier for me.”

  Erik frowned and put his gun away. “Are they coming for us?”

  “They have many times already if you think about it. We are more concerned now, given the special losses incurred this time. We don’t have any specific credible threats if that’s what you’re asking.”

  Jia holstered her pistol. “Sometimes I wonder if this couldn’t be better handled through Emma.”

  Emma blinked into existence, sitting in a holographic chair. “That would be more efficient.”

  “For now, we’ll continue as we have been.” Alina leaned forward. “And in the spirit of openness and honesty—”

  “No such thing as an honest ghost,” Erik pointed out.

  Alina raised an eyebrow. “An honest spy is a dead spy.” She smiled thinly. “Then let’s call it the spirit of respect. I want you to know that I debriefed Agent Devereaux and Agent Marle separately. I will do that after every major mission. They are under your direction, but they are still ID agents, and I sent them to you both to help you and to keep an eye on you.”

  “In case my revenge gets in the way of your plans?” Erik asked.

  “Something like that, but it helps keep everyone honest. Remember, you’re flying around in a prototype jumpship, something vital to the defense of the UTC, as is Emma. The Argo itself represents a significant investment in resources, as do all the weapons, vehicles, and ammo given to you.”

  Erik grabbed his neck. “I feel the tug of the leash.”

  “Think of it as a reminder.” Alina smiled. “But don’t be too concerned. Some of the powers-that-be who were dissatisfied with your destruction of the Hunter ship are pleased that you successfully delivered what appear upon initial analysis to be genuine ancient alien artifacts.”

  Jia sat on the couch opposite Alina. “They’ve already established that much?”

  “Yes, not that they have any idea of what they do or what to do with them.” Alina shrugged. “The Hunters might not be new to the conspiracy, but they are new to the UTC government, and…”

  “And?” Erik prodded.

  Alina gestured to his left arm. “I like the new arm, by the way.”

  “The question?” he prompted.

  “What’s to answer? I’m a ghost, not a scientist, but it’s hard not to wonder, given that all the races ended up with similar HTP tech, how much was left behind on purpose by the Navigators.” Alina frowned. “Our previous encounter with the Hunters and their technology makes it clear they weren’t friendly benefactors hoping to pass along gifts to younger races.” She waved a hand dismissively. “It doesn’t matter. The bottom line is it’ll cost a lot of people a lot of time and money to accomplish what the conspiracy might already have, and that’s what worries me.”

  “What about the other items?” Jia asked.

  “Almost entirely biological samples,” Alina replied. “The scientists are still performing tests, but they’ve identified obvious yaoguai embryos and bodily fluids, along with DNA samples from heavily modified sources and more Leem DNA.”

  Erik folded his arms. “I wonder how screwed we’ll be if they can get their hands on something else?”

  “Who knows? What’s important is this continues to confirm the conspiracy’s most likely direction.” Alina cut through the air with her hand. “And the more we know about that, the better we can counter it.”

  “They haven’t given up on cyborgs,” Jia noted. “They might have blown the facility before the locals could rip it apart, but I didn’t get the feeling that was where they made the Elites.”

  Alina nodded. “No, all the available information strongly suggests against it and supports that place was primarily a yaoguai test and breeding facility.”

  Jia frowned. “That Elite leader, Luca, seemed pretty insistent that the Elites represented some new force on par with the Ascended Brotherhood. They might not be invincible, but the implications of the technology are worrisome.”

  Alina smiled at Jia. “You’re far from the only one who believes that, Jia, and we’ll do what we continue to do, which is keep an eye out. The question is where we go from here.” She turned back to Erik. “Our follow-up analysis suggests the items you grabbed on Chiron don’t represent all of their original source, Molino or otherwise. The simple issue is we’re at a dead-end tracking the others, even with the helpful records provided by your new and suspicious friend Barbu.”

  “I never said he was our friend,” Erik stated.

  Jia switched to another topic. “What about the companies on Alpha Centauri?”

  “The CID is preparing for raids on a few suspect companies soon with additional intel provided by us,” Alina explored. “We’re trying to expedite them because the conspiracy will cover their tracks, but if they find nothing, at least we have other directions to look.”

  “I don’t think we care about following up on every individual item that might have been in that shipment.” Jia looked at Erik and back at Alina. “We took down a group of abominations and earned some privateer treasure. Not bad for a few days’ work.”

  Alina’s brows lifted, a curious glint filling her eyes. “Privateer treasure? Interesting.”

  “I agree with Jia,” Erik added. “We know more about their monsters and their tech, and we have their stuff. That has to go down as a loss.”

  “And a hard one to take,” Alina agreed.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Julia clasped her hands behind her and stared at the holographic Atlantic stretching in front of her in search of something approaching true calm.

  The loss of the Hunter ship in May had been a staggering reversal, one that rendered an incredible amount of previous effort and planning pointless. It frustrated her, but she didn’t want to see a pattern in it.

  Accepting certain truths necessitated realigning her carefully developed plans and stratagems for her and the UTC’s future.

  She clenched her teeth so hard they hurt. She welcomed the cleansing pain; welcomed anything to distract her from harsh reality.

  The loss of the artifacts on Chir
on shouldn’t have bothered her as much as it did.

  They had not been under her control, and the forced self-destruction and loss of so many resources could be used to weaken her rivals in the Core, especially the man most directly responsible for the debacle, given his recent attitude.

  That should have made her happy, but messages sent shortly before the destruction of the facility had revealed something terrifying.

  The Last Soldier and the Warrior Princess were responsible.

  The timing should have been impossible. Their toy presented a threat in the Solar System, but not light-years away. That was what she’d assumed.

  That was what the entire Core had assumed.

  Questions swirled in her mind. Had they jumped to the HTP and traveled through it? That seemed impossible given Core HTP surveillance, but the alternative—that they used the drive to travel more than four light-years—set her heart racing.

  The details of how they had done it were irrelevant. The only thing that was important was knowing they could.

  Julia bowed her head and closed her eyes. Fleeing the Solar System seemed pointless now, but there were still advantages to be gained, even with the enemy following her.

  “How far do I need to run?” she whispered.

  Holographic representations of the members of the Core surrounded their meeting table, every man and woman in the room eyeing the others with suspicion. Crisis threatened their great work, and it was now time to come together. The only person not present was Julia, her distance from Earth making direct participation in the meeting impractical.

  “Our enemies are circling us!” shouted Farad, a vein in his face bulging. “How do you intend to make up for your mistakes, Shoji?”

  Shoji snapped his fan shut, smiling slightly at the other man. “I think you’re overreacting to relatively minor losses.”

  “Minor losses?” Ivan adjusted his tie and patted it, then stared at Shoji. “There is no such thing as a minor loss when it comes to the Hunters. You were primarily responsible for this. And now the government knows about the Elite program.”

  “I choose to view the useful intelligence concerning the jumpship’s true mobility a mitigating trade-off.” Shoji shrugged and leaned back. “And I do not think panic is warranted. Knowing about the Elites and knowing what we have planned for them are two separate things.”

  Constance let out a quiet, long sigh. “Panic is never warranted, but adjustment after failure is. We have lost Sophia, and we have sacrificed other tools to delay our enemies. Julia’s choice to remove herself from Earth, while understandable, is frustrating, but it introduces complications.”

  Farad scoffed. “It’s also convenient.”

  Shoji raised an eyebrow, his smile growing. “Don’t be so mysterious, Farad. Please enlighten us.”

  “It’s not impossible that she led our enemies to Sophia for her own reasons.”

  Some of the Core members exchanged knowing looks. Others seemed annoyed, but no one was surprised.

  Shoji waved a hand. “It’s not impossible, and if we’re honest, we all have our ambitions. There was nothing to be gained by Julia leading the government and the Last Soldier and the Warrior Princess to Alpha Centauri. I’ve been investigating something for a while, concerning surprising secrets of ours getting out. I’ve long felt we’ve been missing something.”

  Constance stared at him, her gaze somehow both soft and accusatory. “Investigations are nice. Discoveries are better.”

  With a flick of his wrist, Shoji unfolded his fan and waved it in front of him. “This has been bothering me for a while. We’ve suffered more losses and reversals in the last couple of years than we have in decades. The Last Soldier and the Warrior Princess are strongly motivated, yes, and they have the aid of some of the more vexing elements of the government opposing us, but that alone doesn’t explain their success.”

  “Enough with the mystery, Shoji,” Farad growled. “Spit…it…out.”

  Shoji gave him a lopsided smile. “A dog will hunt whatever its master wants, but it requires a scent.”

  “You’re saying Julia has betrayed the Core?” Farad narrowed his eyes.

  “If I recall, you’re the one who accused her of that.” Shoji shook his head. “And no, I don’t believe she has betrayed the Core, regardless of what might have happened with Sophia. Of all of us, she and Sophia are the two who have suffered most under the relentless assault of the Last Soldier and his allies.”

  Ivan’s brow lifted. “Sophia’s dead,” he pointed out. “I’d argue she suffered more.”

  “Of course.” Shoji tittered, his laugh and face not matching the seriousness of the occasion. “But my point remains. Individual losses, reversals, and personnel deaths might be dismissed as internecine squabbles, but we’re now worried enough that we’ve begun to discuss these matters on a regular basis. We try to deceive ourselves by saying we have another plan, but our resources aren’t infinite.” He hid his face behind his fan. “I think we now have to face a grave possibility.”

  “You think the Core is threatened,” Ivan replied. “Not individuals, but all of us, but you don’t think the true threat lies with the Last Soldier and the Warrior Princess?”

  “That accurately summarizes my beliefs.” Shoji lowered his fan, revealing a sinister cast to his face. “We’ve had our differences ever since we pledged to work together those long decades ago, personal, ideological…” His gaze flicked among other members until it rested on Constance. “Aesthetic. But the eventual accretion of history means we must rely on one another until we’ve achieved our mutual goal. It was a blink of an eye in our lifetimes that we were close to not only achieving our well-earned immortality but cementing the necessary control of the UTC. I can’t be the only one who now wonders if it's unraveling. Yes, some of it can be attributed to arrogance on the part of our members, but I suspect there is someone else out there, someone with surprising knowledge of the Core, not the Last Soldier or the Warrior Princess, or even the ghosts that play at protecting the UTC from people like us.”

  “Then who?” Farad demanded.

  “If I knew that, I wouldn’t be so worried.” Shoji leaned back, his playful smile gone. “I think Julia is wise to put some distance between her and Earth. This is a critical time, and we must make calculated gambles now, even if they risk exposure. It is time we take back what it is ours.”

  Every movement, every quiver of Shoji’s mouth, was by design. They were tools from a long-forgotten dream to be a performer, weaponized now to manipulate others.

  His driver opened the back door of his flitter. Shoji stepped onto the parking platform, stopping for a moment to take in the forest of towers surrounding him in Tokyo. He didn’t like leaving his favorite city, let alone the idea of leaving Earth, but Julia’s worries had shifted from mere paranoia to outright prescience.

  Shoji sighed and headed toward his door, waving dismissal at his driver. The Core stood on the precipice now, threatened by an enemy that should have been no more than an afterthought and bolstered by something else, a hidden hand far more wearisome than the myopic fools in government law enforcement and intelligence.

  Farad’s concerns over Julia weren’t unwarranted, but it was no longer time to fight amongst themselves, not until they had stabilized the situation. Their divided power would make them easier to eliminate otherwise.

  All they needed to do was keep their heads.

  His door slid open and he entered his outer garden, a glorious cacophony of mixed flowers and scents, sweet and revolting. There might not be any order to the garden to the untrained eyes, but he’d spent his time picking out the greatest contrasts for the best combinations.

  That was the essence of existence, life, and the soul. Nothing glorious existed that wasn’t a balance of other factors.

  Shoji leaned over. One of the corpse flowers planted amongst the roses would bloom soon. Delightful.

  “Hello, Shoji.”

  His brow lifted in surprise and h
e straightened, turning toward the impossible voice—Julia’s.

  She stood there, her hands folded behind her back. A flower petal protruding through her leg betrayed her holographic nature.

  Shoji let out a delighted laugh. Julia might not be there in person, but her holographic projection meant she was close. She’d managed to fool him with her stories of fleeing to another system. It was rare that anyone deceived him so thoroughly.

  “Hello, Julia.”

  She smiled. “Voiceprint confirmed. Message will now begin.”

  Shoji’s smile faded. There was no fun in a recorded holographic message. It also was unnecessary.

  Julia clucked her tongue. “These are desperate times. I realize that now. Far more desperate than they might seem. Our enemies circle us, hungry and salivating, and our advantages are slipping away. The AI, the jump drive…” She shook her head. “Those should be our tools, not those of the lesser beings populating the government.”

  Shoji sighed. Although he didn’t know how Julia had managed to get a holographic message keyed to him inside one of his homes, it was proving dreary and self-important.

  In other words, it was standard Julia.

  “We’ve aided each other throughout the years,” Julia continued. “And I believed we would have a common cause for some time. I allowed myself on rare occasions to believe you might be someone who could be preserved in my new order.”

  Shoji frowned. The woman dared to imply he was an enemy, after all the help he’d given her. He wouldn’t deny that he wouldn’t pledge his undying loyalty to her, but he’d looked the other way despite her obvious involvement in Sophia’s death.

  “I will admit to desperation,” Julia explained, gesturing in front of her. “And a small amount of trepidation. Critical plans of mine have failed, and that means I can’t continue to allow loose ends that threaten my future and that of the UTC.”

  A harsh, acrid scent infiltrated his nose. It didn’t fit his perfect garden of light and dark.

  He threw back his head and laughed. A man stretched out his hand for immortality and ended up poisoned in his own garden.