Finally, I had to ask, “Where did you get these images with such odd captions?”
Nasruddin, “From the Qinghai Poloff. Not secure, of course, but nothing else in this room is. Especially not you. You are not supposed to be talking, remember?”
I did remember, but this seemed more important. Maybe it was just the happy juices, but I could not control my curiosity.
“Anything from Syrtis? I never had a chance to talk to the Qinghai Poloff, but quite respected the judgement of the Syrtis Poloff. I would like to talk with them again before I change my ID. Meanwhile, I would really like translations of these captions.”
Nasruddin, “They were both pretty twitchy. I wonder if the LE token to block emojis helped? I think the Qinghai Poloff is more sensible in general, but I agree the Syrtis Poloff has good judgement. Why did you reach that conclusion? I thought she was near to arresting you as a war criminal.”
“She was, but did not. As I say, good judgement. I did not want to talk to anyone while we were on that ship, so I deliberately made myself as unwelcome as I dared. I had hoped for a less drastic method but it worked. She treats me with a proper level of suspicion, but still hears what I say. She recognized me as a spy because I told MacFinn to visit the other factional warships to talk with their medics. I couldn’t leave her so suspicious without a little misdirection.”
Nasruddin suddenly realized what we were saying. “Hush! Hush! We should not be talking.”
I was feeling just loopy enough to continue. “OK, but I really do want to know what those captions say. The few I’ve been able to read speak of battles fought and heroes who either triumphed or died during the Incursion. I saw a couple of locations on the Earth where there were regional conflicts that I never realized had an off-world component. Most of the images are from large asteroids. I know nothing at all about military and political activities in the Belt. Who fought on Vesta and Ceres and why? Who won and how? It is surely pertinent to what is happening today. I suspect some of the current senior commanders were involved in those battles. You should clear this set of images of any security problems and pass them through to the Admiralty. It would probably help the diplomatic effort, although possibly only with the Qinghai commanders.”
I wanted to pass them to the Banshees and ministers but held off saying so in case anyone else was listening. The Admiralty would probably do it anyways.
Nasruddin, “You are sure they are not just tourist pictures?”
“Of course they are, or would be if these places have tourists. Have you ever gone on an official tour on the Earth? How many famous sites from before the Final War were the locations of terrible battles, or powerful forts, or the palaces and temples built by all-conquering rulers? Long after the wars are over, people remember those places. They forget who fought the wars – can you recall the name of a single soldier from the Second World War? – but the sites remain important.
“I visited a huge monument on Vimy Ridge one time. No one knows much about the battle, except it was in the First World War, fought by armies from the regions of Germany and Canada. There is nothing else left and even the monument needed repairs. It is surrounded by fields of poppies and a big graveyard. Many of the gravestones and poppies had been brought from other battlegrounds, but hardly anyone bothers to read the signs. The site is a popular tourist attraction, with a good view of the nearby countryside and a nice picnic area. For most visitors, that is enough.
“It was sad. I lived in a region that had been part of ancient Canada while I was young and know many people with Germanic backgrounds. They were all wonderful, reasonable, compassionate... Why would such people ever have fought each other? For that place to attract tourists seems wrong.
“Regardless, these images are commemorating people and events that were important enough to be remembered by Qinghai Mining.”
That was way more than I had intended to say. The meds were definitely affecting me.
Nasruddin was quiet for a while, then agreed to find out if the captions had ever been translated into something more easily accessible, like classical Mandarin. He continued, “Allah defend us, we have already said so much, silence may not serve us anymore. We will have to careful to keep the bugs isolated when they emerge, in case they are recording the conversation.
“You have changed from when I first met you. I’m beginning to see why Surgeon MacFinn is so protective and at the same time so frightened. Do you really want to talk to the Poloffs? They are due in tomorrow and may be available a few days from now for supervised discussions. We can supply you with motorized wheelchairs that can carry the full field station. Still, I would advise against it. They are probably the most dangerous people on the Moon for any Banshees these days. The Imperial Poloff was openly hostile when we left.”
He paused for a moment before continuing.
“I was astonished to receive an invitation from them to visit the Lansdorf. It was a fantastic opportunity, but also a frightful risk. Forward Command told them that Thor and I were visiting the Quetzalcoatl. I’m quite sure they did not know about our two surgeons or their patients until we told them you would be accompanying us. As best I could tell, they issued the invitation explicitly because they suspected Thor and I were spies. They were afraid we would interrogate their factional warriors on the Quetzalcoatl and wanted us under closer supervision. The whole time we were there, I had to watch every word I said. Hardly a surprise they suspected you and MacFinn.
“I could scarcely believe that you would agree to travel on the Imperial ships. MacFinn had cat fits when I asked him. He jumped so hard, it was like he knew it was coming. I’ve rarely seen a TDF surgeon that upset. I have no idea how you talked him into the proposal for medical cooperation. It caught all of us, even me, completely off guard. When Agent Lakshmi-Lee requested to join us, I was probably the only one not totally confused. I expect they are still trying to figure out what game we were playing.
“Just as well we went, as it turned out. The fights on the Quetzalcoatl were so bad that LR requested the Imperium to send soldiers to maintain discipline in one wing of the ship. That triggered another round of attacks from the factional warships that we were barely able to fend off. Almost a quarter of their passengers and patients are in detention for assaulting Imperial soldiers, waiting for the legal system to be settled so they can lay charges. Unbelievable! We might not have got off the Quetzalcoatl alive and could easily have ended in detention ourselves.”
Nasruddin ordered a change in my exercise routine. He changed my drinking bulb and adjusted the field station. My stomach gave a really odd lurch and I nearly retched. He ran a quick scan over my belly and announced happily, “Good news! That little spasm was the big bug in your stomach springing free and starting to migrate towards the exit. It looks like normal contractions have restarted along the length of your intestine, so keep swilling down the juices and it should be out in a couple of hours. After that, two more to go.
“MacFinn has been wondering when and how they inserted those bugs. Probably while you were asleep, of course, but that still covers a lot of time. He and Law Enforcement are both eager to examine these devices in detail.”
Oh, goody. I could hardly wait till it emerged. If the distress of leaving the stomach was a guide, it would be super-good-fun feeling it claw its way out my butt. But then the happy juices kicked in again and it was impossible to stay worried.
Two bulbs later, the remaining bugs were washing along in the current. The suction of the rectal insert pulled them out within ten hours. As each bug emerged from the septic system, Nasruddin collected it into a separate compartment in one of two boxes that I guessed were for known and unknown bugs. We had only been aware of three, but there were thirteen in all, clumped into three tight clusters. Mostly, they were known bugs, but there were also four new ones. I was still serving the terrestrial intelligence services, if only as a collector of exotic bugs.
The first one that broke free was indeed big, a round disk
of a flexible material that must have been rolled into a tube during insertion. It would have been painful to pass, bordering on impossible, except that the rectal insert provided a shield between my tender flesh and the spiky edges of the vicious thing. I only puked once in the whole process, choking up a small bug that went into the box for known bugs. Afterwards, I could hardly remember even that. Hooray for the happy juices. It was not an afternoon I ever wanted to recall.
After the bugs had passed, I started a different set of bulbs with thick, vaguely fruit-flavoured beverages. I was no longer loopy from the anti-nausea meds, so I was surprised when Nasruddin announced that Forward Command had supplied a copy of the slideshow with captions in Mandarin, as well as a second set from Syrtis. It took almost three minutes to remember what he was talking about and why I had asked for them.
It was worth the wait and the surprise because it presented a whole theatre of military operations during the Incursion that I had never even been aware was happening. Some of Ngomo’s madness had not been mad at all, just responses to factional power struggles in the Belt that were never included in the reports from Mars. Even more chilling were several regional wars on the Earth that had been driven by factional interests in the Belt. Katerina had to see these images.
As I watched, I started to compile the reports MacFinn and Kaahurangi had passed me into chapters in a pair of large reports. I had been too self-absorbed on the Lansdorf to really appreciate what they had been doing, but the result was a comprehensive look at the medical facilities on board the warships of four different factions. They made explicit recommendations on how to set up a combined service, structured like Lunar Recovery but using the best features from each faction alongside the facilities of the terrestrial and lunar medical systems. MacFinn had given a whole day’s analysis to the cultural differences expected by each faction for the medical systems in their ships. These sometimes included spiritual and religious counselling, scent, poetry and song as forms of therapy. There was a martial arts therapy, barely short of ritual combat, that provided mental and physical discipline for invalids. He recommended in a footnote that the TDF examine their martial arts programs as possible therapies for recovering marines.
I noted that drug delivery to the Belt was highlighted as an issue to be addressed urgently, using both LUVN-style preservation techniques and a new class of unmanned delivery vehicles. They highlighted that unmanned vehicles could be lighter than manned ships, could accelerate harder and achieve higher speeds at a reasonable cost. They would reduce delivery times significantly throughout the entire Belt. Such ships would categorically break the monopolies that had stifled medicine in the Belt for centuries. Even discussing the construction of such a fleet would have been impossible before the arrival of the Imperium.
They also urged the construction of a dozen or more training hospitals in orbits equally spaced around the middle of the Belt, with branch hospitals in every large population centre. This was completely normal practice on the Earth and Moon. Mars made do with one major training hospital at the Martian Academy and clinics in the major cities. Only the wealthy and well-connected could afford real meds in the Martian Academic Hospital. Even use of the clinics was a privilege reserved for the local elite. Smaller centres relied on teams of volunteers trained in first aid and superstitious rituals that made people feel better as they died. Kaahurangi and MacFinn reported that most places in the Belt did not even have clinics.
As an agent in Legal Intelligence and as a Spook working for the Governor, I had enjoyed hospital access at TDF bases that most Martian citizens did not realize was available anywhere on the planet. I felt my outrage and contempt spiking, at the vicious system the Governors managed and at myself for ignoring the abuse. Recognizing the self-destructive hatred of the Assassin, I returned control to the Ghost. I think I caught it before Nasruddin noticed.
It would be impossible to start such an expensive medical service while fighting continued amongst the factions. Everyone would envy those able to use the first hospitals, which they would target for destruction to prevent their rivals from gaining an advantage. The delivery vehicles would be treated as enemy munitions. Some factions were undoubtedly profiting from the existing monopolies and would fight to maintain them. Recruiting people to work under such conditions would be next to impossible.
Not my problems, of course, but it would require enormous courage and tremendous resources to take on such a daunting project. There were probably only two or three people on the Lansdorf who had seen these reports. The Syrtis Poloff at least would also have extracted descriptions of my nightmares from the foolish medics and would be aware of the risks that I envisioned. They would also be aware of LUVN and the promise that real medicine could bring. A government that cared about its citizen’s lives and health was one everyone could support. All the real decisions would surely have to be made by the Emperor and zer immediate advisors, screened first by zer viceroys and their advisors.
Long odds. Very long, but better than impossible, which they had been before our visit to the Lansdorf.
I asked Nasruddin to show me how the scrolling messages worked. He then scrolled that I should get back into my armour to make conversation easier, so we struggled gently to pull it on again. My first scrolling message was just, “Bugs?” He held a finger to his lips, pointing to several spots around the room including two pieces of physio equipment that he had moved over to the door. They had been there while we had discussed the slide shows. No sweat; the bugs inside me had recorded the same conversation.
Nasruddin helped me to sit up in a wheelchair and we began a slow circuit around the periphery of the room, spotting bugs here and there. Most of them were old, bugs from the TDF, LE, CI and Lunar Ministry for Health. Few of them were operational and as MacFinn has said, none were currently broadcasting.
Regardless, I was worried. This was a high-security site intended for dangerous patients. They had been put in place when I still trusted MI. Now I was deeply concerned about who had access to those devices and what use they made of the information. I had no idea whether I could trust any of them, so I used the armour to request their complete removal. Nasruddin agreed but scrolled back that it was scheduled during my next nap, after a meal that would include some more solid food.
When we completed our circuit, I scrolled a question about cameras, which would render our scrolled messages public knowledge. He pointed to four different spots around the room, mostly near the ceiling but scrolled that they had all been disabled; no video, no audio, no scent or vibration, no records of any kind. He added that the other rooms nearby were also clear and that the hallway was scanned every three hours.
We sat facing each other, I in the wheelchair, he on one of the physio machines.
Nasruddin/scroll, “Probably our only chance to talk alone, free from bugs and watchers.”
Me/scroll, “Thank you for your care. You must leave me soon, like everyone else.”
Nasruddin/scroll, “Understood. Is there a task that the others cannot do?”
Me/scroll, “Many people must be warned to hide.”
Nasruddin/scroll, “Many people could do that. Why me?”
Me/scroll, “You are loyal and therefore need to hide as well. You will understand the sensitivity of the list.”
Nasruddin/scroll, “So, I must be like an undercover agent?”
Me/scroll, “Deep cover and constantly changing.”
Nasruddin/scroll, “I am TDF. How can I do that?”
Me/scroll, “The TDF will be disbanded or merged into the fleet. Many will resign.”
Nasruddin/scroll, “That will not give me cover.”
Me/scroll, “It will give you an excuse to disappear. Talk to Wang, Alexander, and the ACC.”
Nasruddin/scroll, “I cannot leave while you need protection.”
Me/scroll, “You can and should, as soon as I am mobile and can speak with the Poloffs. Is there a special reason I need protection?”
Nasr
uddin/scroll, “It is bad outside, worse than you have been told. We fear we will trigger another medical crisis if we say too much.”
I had hoped that we were planting seeds of a new government that would grow quickly. My nightmares had always suggested otherwise, but it was disappointing to have them confirmed, to realize we were still riding a razor wire of justice through the tunnel of hellgate.
Nasruddin/scroll, “I am sending you a one-time encryption key. Use it to give me the medical documents and the list of people to protect. I will never use it for anything else.”
Me/scroll, “When?”
Nasruddin/scroll, “After the next meal and a few hours of solid sleep, but before we talk to the Banshees.”
Me/scroll, “Give me an hour to compose and prioritize the list.”
He nodded and set me one more round of light exercises, mindless repetitive activity that let me compose the list of people on the Moon and the Earth who needed to be warned. They might already be in peril if the viceroy to the Earth was already in place and was as bad as Begum had suggested.
2357-03-21 20:00
Homesick
I woke with Nasruddin gently shaking my armour. He asked me to remove the helmet, which I did by myself for the first time in a long while. I could not have managed the weight anywhere with stronger gravity than the Moon, but it still felt like freedom.
I was starving. Checking the time, I had been asleep for almost a day, far more than the few hours he had suggested. Nasruddin assured me that the rest was necessary after the stress of the previous days, but I was probably fit to resume a more conventional daily cycle. He added that being hungry in the morning is part of normal life, a sentiment I agreed with immediately.
Lord Banshee Lunatic (Nightmare Wars Book 3) Page 3
