Wars

by Alex Deva

  Then, just as it had finished packing its bags and was about to leave, the last shred of reason in her mind produced a new thought: that she was about to be released under promise to stay quiet.

  She did her best to signal approval, and then she could breathe again. Her limbs were still pinned, but her torso could elongate at will, and her passages were free. She gasped, and as soon as she could regain her voice, she croaked:

  “Who sent you?“

  The drone did not answer.

  Her comm interface fell in a thin wave from the ceiling; the sounds of droplets falling on her floor, familiar as they were, startled her. The comm curtain was not supposed to appear by itself. She turned her head towards it, and after a few moments, she saw a face on it.

  A familiar face.

  “Good evening, Ambassador Jox,“ said the Chief of Warfare.

  “You…!“ she nearly shouted. The drone clenched her torso menacingly.

  “Kindly keep your voice down,“ said the Chief, coldly. “The surveillance in your house is temporarily disabled — both that of which you know, and that of which you are not aware — and your quarters are suitably sound proof, but someone might still hear you if you scream loudly enough. Please do not do that, or my drone shall… prevent you.“

  “How dare you,“ she whispered. “I am a member of the Diplomatic Apparatus, not some… damn thief or whatever it is you spend your time stalking and threatening! I will find a way to make you pay for this!“

  The woman at the other end waited patiently for the angry tirade to finish. Then, calmly, she said:

  “There is indeed some risk in me doing this, although I am certain it is not all that great. For one, if you truly are a traitor, then I will eventually have been justified. For another, if there is no other way, I can easily stage your death to an entirely reasonable degree of realism.“

  “Traitor?!“ asked Jox. “What?!“

  “Yes. Let us begin. What is your relationship with Bree ken Cudner?“

  “Who?“

  The Chief watched her carefully, saying nothing. After a few moments, she frowned and continued:

  “To be honest, I am about half-sure. And both you and I wish that I was more certain than that.“

  “Certain of what, damn you?“

  “That you were being sincere in your reaction just now.“

  “What? I have no idea who ken Cudner is. Should I? Do we know each other?“

  Again, the other watched her, trying to judge.

  “Well, that is exactly what you would say.“

  “I don’t know ken Cudner! Tell your drone to get off me!“

  “Did you have him killed?“

  Jox froze still and stared at the projection stupidly.

  “What?!“

  “I asked, did you have Bree ken Cudner killed?“

  “I… What… No! I don’t even know who you’re talking about! Who is… or was, Bree ken Cudner?“

  The other pondered again. “All right, I am coming there,“ she said, eventually. “I believe the risk is worth it. The drone will restrain you until I arrive,“ she finished, and then the comm curtain broke off, the last of it splashing on the floor.

  Jox turned her face towards the drone, and said, hatefully:

  “When this is over, I shall have you thrown in a very shallow acid bath.“

  The machine was not programmed to reply.

  XXIV.

  “I have news,“ announced Rrapi suddenly.

  Zi had been lying on the floor with his eyes closed. Upon hearing Rrapi, he opened one eye, and then the other. Then, he brought up his right elbow and perked up a little. He drew half a breath and, slowly, asked:

  “Good or bad?“

  The alien seemed to have slowed itself down considerably, but even so, it was impatient.

  “Are you going to die soon?“ it asked.

  “No,“ said Mark, from a few steps away. He had also been lying on his back, as if asleep. He spoke without opening his eyes. “Nobody's going to die, Rrapi.“

  Zi sat up and glanced at the Brit.

  — That depends on your definition of “soon,“ he transmitted.

  — How are you holding up? Mark asked.

  — Never better. You?

  — Just fabulous.

  Zi turned towards Rrapi.

  “So?“

  “I do not know.“

  Zi sighed. “Make sense, you fat bug,“ he said slowly, closing his eyes again.

  Rrapi stopped, which was unusual. “I cannot find this idiom in the human linguistic index, and I assume there is a reason for that. Of course I know what the news is. What I do not know is whether it is good or bad, which was what you asked.“

  “Fine,“ said Mark. “We’ll tell you after… if it was good or bad.“

  “You were right,“ said Rrapi.

  “About?“

  “It turned out that the Mallam were, in fact, after you. The attack on the Complex was, in fact, triggered by your arrival.“

  “How did you find that out?“

  The alien made a weird gesture.

  “It would take too long to explain. Nonetheless, it is true. My people were able to trace the attack, and the link was undeniable. The Mallam did not get a chance to cover their tracks.“

  “Sloppy,“ said Mark.

  “Yes, particularly for the Mallam. It does speak to the urgency of their actions.“

  “So we must’ve been on to something really big.“

  “That I can neither prove nor disprove yet. It is highly doubtful that the Saudade Conglomerate would possess anything that might work against the Squares, and not wipe them out at the same time.“

  “Hum,“ said Zi.

  “But there is more.“

  Mark glanced at Zi. “What?“

  “The news has spread quickly among the guests who are still in the Complex.“

  The Rook soldier puckered his lips and considered. “Shit,“ he concluded. “Why?“

  “There never was any element of secrecy involved. My people broadcast the news as soon as it was discovered.“

  “Playing the blame game,“ said Mark. He sat up, leaning against the wall, and focused on moving each finger in turn, first on the right hand, then on the left one. He had trouble with the ring fingers. The left one wouldn’t even budge. He tried his toes, but wasn’t sure if they were working; he couldn’t see them inside his boots, and the tactile feedback was nothing to go by.

  “In hindsight,“ Rrapi went on, “I can appreciate that this will not make you any new friends. I regret that, but there was nothing I could do. I regret it even more on grounds of my visible association with you.“

  “Don’t worry,“ said Zi. “You’re safe within these walls. Nobody can get to you.“

  “And that brings me to the third item of news.“

  Zi waved his hand, and the alien interpreted the gesture as an invitation to continue.

  “We are restoring enough of our computing resources that we can erase the walls from the simulation. In fact, we are ready to do that now.“

  With an effort, Mark tensed, shifting his weight so that he wasn’t leaning on the wall anymore. It was an instinctive reaction to the simple threat of falling on his back once the support would vanish. He seized on the threat, and willingly amplified it in his mind. He imagined that there would have been a huge void filled with sharp knives and that he would’ve fallen right into it, stung and cut and plunging in horrible helplessness.

  As expected, a wave of adrenaline found its way into his heart. He expected it, seized it, and rode it all the way into standing up. Zi watched him with his mouth open; not wanting to fall behind, he frowned, put together a plan, mentally outlined the steps, went through it checking for flaws, then enacted it: little by little, he got up, only to realise that he’d forgotten to breathe the whole time.

  Wait, he mimed with his open palm, then drew in a couple of deep breaths. Then: “Right. I’m ready.“

  “For what?�
�� asked Rrapi.

  “For whatever. When are the walls coming down?“

  “I never said that they would come down. I said that they would be erased.“

  “Fine. When?“

  Rrapi froze for a fraction of a second, and with that, the walls were gone.

  Instead, they found themselves in same endless void, stretching in all directions. Once again, they were surrounded by aliens of all descriptions, except this time, there were markedly fewer of them.

  “Most of them disconnected,“ clarified Rrapi, who was also turning and looking around himself. “They considered it pointless to waste their quotas. Of course, we shall be forced to refund everyone’s time, although your case will be seen as special.“

  “Because it’s our first time?“ asked Zi.

  “No. Because you caused all this.“

  “We damn well did not!“

  “To those who will decide, you did. It is entirely possible that your access privileges shall be completely revoked, although that would be symbolic.“

  “What do you mean, symbolic?“

  “If you succumb to the Squares, it is doubtful that we shall hear of Earth ever again.“

  Mark took a careful step forward. “As I said. We’re not dead yet,“ he said, softly.

  “No,“ answered Rrapi. “From what I can see, that is taking much longer than expected.“

  The Brit’s mouth corner went down two millimetres in a small, sardonic smile.

  Zi walked to him, making a great show of it. “What now?“ he asked.

  “We carry on,“ said Mark. “We find Jox.“

  “Even though she clearly said that she can’t help us.“

  “We find her because she said that.“

  The soldier looked at Mark sideways. “Yeah. Sure,“ he said. “That makes about as much sense as everything else that’s been going on.“

  They kept turning, trying to take in their surroundings, but everywhere they looked, there was the same nondescript nothingness populated by very distinctive and different creatures, who were talking to each other, moving around, sitting, standing, crawling, floating or simply vibrating.

  “We need a fixed point of reference,“ said Mark. “Rrapi, any ideas?“

  “Oh. You navigate visually. I do not yet have full control over the simulation, but I should be able to arrange something. What would you like?“

  “A map, a compass and a large pizza,“ said Zi. “Or a large compass-shaped pizza with a map on it.“

  The alien did not react. He went perfectly still for a short moment, and a huge pillar emerged behind him. Like the walls, it was endlessly tall, about five metres in diameter, and it emitted gentle, pulsating light. The aliens nearby turned, some visibly startled. A few pointed towards the pillar and talked animatedly. Mark thought he saw a big thing that looked like a cross between a butterfly and a bear nod approvingly.

  “Will this do?“ asked Rrapi. “It should be visible from anywhere. I’m afraid it’s the best we can do at the moment.“

  “Perfect,“ said Zi. “All that’s left now is to choose a direction.“ He turned to the station manager, expectantly.

  “What?“ it asked, looking at the two humans.

  “Where’s Jox?“ supplied Zi.

  “I have no way of knowing,“ it replied. “Yet. But I expect to know soon.“

  “How long until you regain control?“

  “That is difficult to estimate at the moment. The current estimate is at least four hundred hours.“

  “Four hundred…“ Zi’s expression was unreadable.

  “Yes, that is why I expect to know soon. Once you die, the attack will probably end by itself.“

  “You little vonuar,“ grumbled Zi. “Don’t write us off just yet.“

  Rrapi gestured with three appendages. “I apologise. You are, of course, sensitive about your deaths. I am merely stating the facts and assumptions. My responsibility is to the Complex, which stands for the interest of its guests, who include you… as long as you are alive. Sorry, I should not have said that last part. Anyway — I am doing my best to help you, as you can appreciate.“

  “We go that way,“ said Mark, pointing to his right, before Zi had a chance to say anything. “Come on.“

  “What? Why? What’s there?“

  Mark did his best to smile confidently. “Trust me. Come on.“

  Zi looked in the direction shown by the Brit, then looked back at the thick, endless beacon. He scratched his cheek insistently.

  “Yeah, mine itches too,“ said Mark. “Don’t worry. It’s all in your head.“

  “Tell that to my head,“ mumbled the soldier.

  Mark started walking. A couple of aliens to the left had began pointing at them. He did his best to ignore them, as he moved away.

  “I just did,“ he said, looking straight ahead.

  Stepping carefully, like he was learning how to walk again, Zi followed. Stubbornly, he picked up speed, passed Mark and went on, even sparing a little hand wave.

  The Brit stopped, following him with his gaze. “Showoff,“ he muttered under his breath.

  And then he started walking again.

  XXV.

  “Damn you!“ Jox screeched, jerking helplessly.

  The newcomer sniggered as the door to the room closed soundlessly behind her. “For what? Doing my job?“ She brushed off water from her arms and from her head, then came to the bed where the ambassador was still being held down by the drone, wriggling nervously. For a few moments, she watched Jox without saying anything; then, briskly, she reached into her pouch and pulled out her multitool. She squeezed it to authenticate, and it chimed softly in response. She gestured with it, and the liquid screen started raining from the ceiling, quickly forming into a thin curtain. The logo of the Warfare Column appeared on it, as the chief accessed her files. Browsing through them, almost absently, she muttered:

  “Greetings, ambassador.“

  “Tell the drone to let me go.“

  “Do you recognise this person?“

  The head and torso of a male blended in on the screen, slowly turning around for identification. A secondary, even thinner curtain fell in front of the main one; on it, a magnifying area of statically charged droplets enlarged various distinctive features of the body, starting with the face, and moving over the rest of the body.

  Jox stopped struggling long enough to look.

  “I do not,“ she said.

  “Again, please,“ said the chief, gesturing with her remote again.

  “I said I do not recognise this person.“

  It took a few seconds, but then the drone let go. In one fluid movement, it rolled itself off the bed and onto the floor, where it reassembled into a neat cube. Jox glanced at it hatefully, rubbing her wrists as she sat up.

  “You are not lying,“ said the chief, matter-of-factly.

  “Oh, really? Am I not lying? How about now: I am going to drown you in your own excrement. Am I lying now, Chief?“

  The other woman waved indifferently. “My truth detection algorithms are smart enough to ignore idle threats, and so am I, I daresay,“ she said. “But back to the relevant. I am temporarily satisfied that, at the very least, you did not kill ken Cudner yourself.“

  “I did not kill anybody, although tonight seems like the perfect occasion to start.“

  “I remind you that my drone is still active and wholly capable of incapacitating you at a moment’s command.“

  Jox fixed the chief with a scornful gaze.

  “What do you want? Is that ken Cudner?“

  “Was. Bree ken Cudner was murdered in his house, ten days ago, and I still suspect your involvement.“

  “Ten days ago? What time?“

  “No need to bother. You are going to tell me that you were at work in the Complex at the time. A perfect alibi, which I did not have enough time to dismantle yet. And you could obviously have had someone else do it.“

  Jox looked at her with incredulity. She breathed fast,
her torso moving up and down, her head gently bobbing to maintain eye contact. She wrapped her body with her long hands, and thought about it. She was sure: ten days earlier she had been on Complex duty. Her fury had by now been replaced by disgust. If that was how the Chief of Warfare was doing her job, then the Conglomerate depended on the skills of the Diplomatic Apparatus more than ever. Were they to be led by such idiots in the event of a war?

  As she was trying to calm herself, suddenly, she saw the problem.

  “Wait. You’re the Chief of Warfare. Your job is to organise planetary defences, not to solve murders. Why do you care about this ken Cudner? Who was he to you?“

  The Chief smiled thinly. “Do continue, ambassador.“

  “The military only really care about their own. Was ken Cudner working for you?“

  “Yes.“

  Jox stood up, observing the man on her screen intently. “Remove the aid layer,“ she said. The chief gestured and, saying nothing, the magnifying layer fell to the floor in a final wave.

  Jox walked around the curtain, looking at the man from all angles, thinking.

  “Not an army general, not a highly placed official, or I would have heard about the murder by now. Someone really important… but at the same time, anonymous.“ She stopped, nodded, and turned to the other woman.

  “A spy,“ she said, still nodding.

  “Whose spy?“ asked the chief, neutrally.

  “What?“

  “Well, spies spy for somebody, do they not? Unless they are double spies. Or triple, quadruple and so on. Who do you suspect ken Cudner might have been spying for?“

  “You, of course. Otherwise you would not care about his murder.“

  “Nonsense. We lose spies all the time. That is how counter-spying works.“

  “Then tell me, damn it.“

  “I am still deciding whether you are innocent or merely acting it.“

  Jox gestured around. “Don’t your computers tell you that I am not acting?“

  “Ah,“ said the other. “The definitive answer to that question is too important to leave to a machine. That is why I came personally, after all.“

  “Fine, then. Test me. Tell me who ken Cudner was and watch my reaction.“

  “All in good time. Care to risk another guess?“