Wars

by Alex Deva

  “So he’s not — was not — a spy?“

  “No. Bree ken Cudner was never cut to be military intelligence. The man was incapable of insincerity, and that disqualifies one for spying, at a rather early stage.“

  Jox tried to carry on her reasoning. “So someone important, anonymous, but not an agent.“

  “Good thinking so far, ambassador.“

  Jox returned her attention to the figure on her screen. The constantly falling droplets sent out the occasional shimmer, giving the reproduction a shiny quality. She studied it closer. A male in his late middle age, in no particularly good shape, patiently posing for the identification scan, just as anyone else would. She approached the curtain and looked closer. There was something in the man’s posture — something she couldn’t quite single out. Something she’d seen before… something subtle in the way his arm joints were tensed, creating a pose that seemed… a little too deliberate for an identification scan. No, not deliberate. Practiced, that was the word. Someone who was used to being looked at.

  But, at the same time, someone anonymous. Important, yet secret.

  Used to attention, but not to celebrity.

  “He was a professor,“ she said, suddenly.

  The Chief made an appreciating noise. “Much better than a spy,“ she said. “And ken Cudner was, of course, a professor… at a time. Are you sure you did not know this?“ she asked.

  “Know it? I guessed it from the way he held himself for the scan,“ Jox said.

  A quick glance satisfied the chief that the lie detector judged in favour of the ambassador. She pondered for a few moments, then said:

  “Bree ken Cudner was a military scientist. A military scientist, former professor, and quite mad.“

  “Did he go mad before or after he started working for you?“

  The chief brushed off the attempt at sarcasm. “Ambassador, I suggest you start taking this seriously. It might be, after all, the last conversation of your life.“

  Jox turned and eyed her sharply. Anger filled her again. “Why do you say he was mad?“ she asked, her voice cold.

  The chief sighed, and sat down on Jox’s pool bed. She placed her hand just above the thin layer of water, and ever so slowly lowered it until she nearly broke the superficial tension. Then she raised it and inspected it for drops, as she said, matter-of-factly:

  “Professor ken Cudner was one of the biggest light physicists of all the Saudade worlds. There are three reasons why you have never heard about him. For one, you do not care about the physics of light. For another, ken Cudner found himself often in disagreement with the main currents of his field, which made his peers unfavourable in their reviews. And thirdly, we made him sign a non-disclosure agreement with us rather early.“

  “Made him,“ scorned Jox.

  “He received overly adequate compensation. In fact, given what he had delivered of last, we were paying him far too well.“

  “You are not making a lot of sense.“

  “But I would be, to somebody who already knows the story.“

  “Well, I don’t.“

  “Or you pretend not to.“

  “This is futile. Either accuse me, or leave me alone. I have no idea who killed your mad scientist. I certainly had nothing to do with it.“

  “This is not futile, ambassador, and I shall not leave you alone, and your precious rights are as good as non-existent in the present circumstances. If I am convinced that you are innocent, I shall leave you be… at a price.“

  “And if not?“

  “The alternative comes at a much greater price — to you.“

  Once more, Jox tried to master her anger. Realising that she had no choice but to play the game by the rules she was presented with, she fell into a resigned silence. On her screen, the dead scientist continued to turn slowly, presenting himself in the same studied stance that teachers universally adopt in front of their students.

  “What was he working on?“ she asked.

  “That is the most dangerous question you, or anyone else, could ask,“ answered the chief.

  “Well, I ask. I know next to nothing of light physics.“

  “It has never made the object of my interest either, I confess. Until one day, not long ago, when ken Cudner came to my office and demanded that I witness a lecture in advanced science.“

  “What lecture?“

  “I have no idea, to this day. As I said, I am not a scientist — at least, not that kind of scientist. The madman seemed to think he had dumbed down his presentation to what he called ‘the general level’. I nearly had him shot on the spot.“

  “Nearly.“

  “Well, I did not shoot him, evidently, since he was killed ten days ago by someone else.“

  “That was not what I meant.“

  The chief smiled thinly. “No, of course it wasn’t. I decided to give him the benefit of genius, and asked questions until I thought I understood what he was on about. He was irritated by them, but even brilliant scientists appreciate that summary execution is less productive than patience.“

  “And what did you find out?“

  “You do enjoy asking the questions now, don’t you, ambassador Jox? I allow it. For the time being.“

  “To gauge my reactions.“

  “Yes. According to your dossier, you are not that capable an actor to be able to disguise previous knowledge forever. Although successful diplomacy does involve a good measure of acting.“

  “How flattering.“

  “That I have a dossier on you, or that I know what your job entails?“

  “What did you find out?“

  “According to ken Cudner, he had calculated a complicated and unlikely succession of spin interferences which, applied to photons in particular, would cause them to temporarily behave in a very odd way.“

  Jox tried to play back the phrase in her head, but still could not make much sense of it. She tried to appear dignified when she said: “I… do not understand what that means.“

  The Chief of Warfare glanced at her truth detector indicator and nodded: “And that might yet save your life.“

  “I am ignorant enough to be allowed to live on?“

  “Temporarily. Your trial has not yet come to an end.“

  “Wait,“ said Jox, suddenly. “If you tell me too much of this secret, then being left alive will make me a liability.“

  “And then I shall have created a liability. Balanced with a potential entire secret ring of liabilities that you might be part of, and that resulted in the death of ken Cudner, I prefer the former.“

  “Either way, I die?“

  The chief said nothing. Her torso went up slowly, and then down, as she exhaled all the air in her breathing tissues. “Sometimes there is a price for asking the wrong questions,“ she said, looking at her long hand. “And I place nothing above the security of the Saudade Conglomerate. If the lives of a half trillion beings depend on your death, then… it is what it is. However,“ she continued, as Jox tensed, “alternatives may be found. Restrictive housing…“

  “Imprisoned for life? Or killed? For… what was it you said? For asking the wrong question?“

  “You would do the same in my place.“

  Jox felt that all her attempts at calm and composure were about to fail. This could not be the end, she thought. It had to… no, wait, wait. What wrong question? It… No. It couldn’t be.

  And suddenly, everything fell into place. The only problem was, everything fell into an impossible place.

  Thinking, she leaned forward and waved her hand in the still water on her apartment floor. She watched her reflection in the distorting rings, changing, changing, then slowly turning back into… her.

  “Your ken Cudner had found a way to fight the Squares,“ she said, refusing to believe her own words.

  The chief watched her silently and carefully. But by now Jox had stopped caring. If it had to happen, it would happen; best to at least know why.

  “You lied to me. You said that we
did not have any weapons against them.“

  “But of course I would tell you that. For one, what did you expect? Would I give away the most important military secret in history to some random ambassador only because she asks on a comm line? And, for the other: I did not lie. We do not have such a weapon.“

  “But that was what ken Cudner had been researching.“

  “Yes. I had to ask him twenty times to make sure I understood. As an ambassador, you are, no doubt, aware of the techniques that the Square use to coerce planetary civilisations?“

  “Blocking their stars. Yes.“

  “Among others. Bree ken Cudner had found a way to, for all intents and purposes, temporarily poison starlight.“

  “Poison the light?“

  “Translated to a term accessible to you and me. The poisoning is less metaphorical as one would think; according to late ken Cudner, it would cause any Squares subjected to it to lose quantum cohesion.“

  “That’s far-fetched. I’m not arguing about this light poisoning, because I understand no part of it, but surely ken Cudner did not benefit from any experimentation.“

  “He did not kill an actual Square by subjecting it to poisoned light, no. Or we would be all dead by now.“

  “So his work was theoretical.“

  “He did experiment enough to prove that the so-called poison could be induced in starlight, but no more.“

  “And what made him think it would work against the Squares?“

  “Data I put at his disposal. Recordings of other star-blockings that the Saudade military intelligence has gathered over a very, very long time. Most secret information, evidently.“

  “How did that help him?“

  “It helped him to develop a theory about how the Squares can absorb such ridiculous amounts of energy without turning it into anything.“

  “How?“

  “By sending it elsewhere.“

  Jox did not understand.

  “Elsewhere? Doesn’t that count as conversion?“

  “Yes, ultimately. But not if it happens outside of our Universe.“

  This time, Jox was astonished.

  “The Squares can access another Universe?!“

  “Damn it, I don’t know,“ the chief blurted out. “Maybe it wasn’t another Universe. All I understood was elsewhere. It doesn’t matter anyway. The poison, whatever you want to call it, alters the photons in a way that not only makes them unsuitable for the trip, but also spreads to whatever’s in the Squares that might be accomplishing whatever it is they accomplish when they redirect energy wherever they might be redirecting it.“

  “Elsewhere.“

  “Yes. Elsewhere. Somewhere else. And I strongly advise you to not patronise someone who is about to decide your fate.“

  Jox was silent. She hadn’t tried to be defiant; she was genuinely incredulous.

  “So you can understand,“ continued the chief, “how it looked when, ten days after the death of a man who told me that the Squares might be defeated while they’re star-blocking, you call me and ask if it’s possible to defeat the Square while they’re star-blocking.“

  “I… I only thought these humans might have been right,“ Jox whispered.

  “About the attack on the Complex in coordination with the attack on their home world?“

  “Yes. That.“

  “Do you know who attacked the Complex?“

  “A station manager mentioned that they suspected the Mallam.“

  The chief nodded, then waved her remote again. Bree ken Cudner’s image was replaced by a long, technical description. It was the forensic analysis of the scientist’s death. Jox skimmed through it, focusing her attention on some paragraphs, skipping others.

  “He died… poisoned,“ she said.

  “Appropriate.“

  “By his own house computer?“

  “A programming error, by all accounts.“

  “By a man who made his living programming computers? And what about in-built safeties?“

  “A very elaborate programming error. So elaborate, in fact, that it actually seems plausible.“

  “That he accidentally poisoned his own house water?“

  “After overriding the in-built safeties in an attempt to experiment with the chemistry.“

  “Drugs.“

  “Of course drugs. What else?“

  “Was he using drugs?“

  “Do not be an idiot, ambassador. He was working for me. The only drugs he would ever use would have come from me and nowhere else. And, as it happens, he was clean. Always had been.“

  “Any suspects?“

  “After ten days? Of course.“

  “Let me guess.“

  “By all means.“

  “The Mallam.“

  “Yes. Remotely, of course. The house computer patch came as part of a legitimate update broadcast, except the local node that served ken Cudner’s house had been operating under new firmware, which had been planted there by a technician who… It does not matter. The trail leads to the Mallam.“

  “How did they know about his research? Did he not use protected computers? Military-grade security, and all that?“

  The chief grumbled. “Did not your Diplomatic Complex use protected computers and military-grade security as well?“

  Jox had nothing to say to that. She finished reading the file, and then read it again. It felt like her last act as a free person, or perhaps even the last thing she would ever do. Finally, she lowered her head and asked:

  “So what now?“

  The chief walked to the door. “I am not convinced that you are involved, which is good enough to let you live. It would be much easier for me to stage your death, but instead, I will endeavour to make you disappear. I am not entirely convinced that you are not involved either, so I’m afraid you have no choice but to submit to restrictions until I decide one way or another. I shall have you relocated tomorrow.“

  “I lose my career… everything I had, because I wanted to help somebody,“ Jox said.

  “No good deed ever goes unpunished,“ said the Chief of Warfare, and left.

  XXVI.

  “I have an idea,“ said Aram, drying himself with a big towel. He had just gotten out of the cylinder, and was stark naked. Jessica Lawry smiled; it was the second time she’d seen him naked, after meeting him on the American cruiser, the USS Kennedy. That time she’d helped him and Mark out of the brig, and risked her life doing it.

  This time, she was in a wheelchair. It seemed to her that seeing the Dacian naked had somehow become linked to near-death.

  “Through here, mr. Aram, when you’re ready,“ said Dahlberg, with a neutral expression. Then, she turned and exited the laboratory.

  The technician who had given Aram the towel looked at the ceiling, then at her shoes, then stared for a few seconds at Jessica’s wheelchair, then realised she had no longer any reason for being there, so she stole one final glance and left. On her way out, a colleague gave her a discreet low-five.

  “How was coming out?“ asked Lawry.

  “Blerch,“ interjected Aram by way of an answer.

  She didn’t ask for clarifications. “How are they doing?“ she asked instead, although she knew that answer perfectly well, too.

  “Gonna die soon,“ said Aram.

  She shuddered.

  “But I have an idea,“ said Aram, finally pulling up his trousers.

  She handed him a t-shirt, and he pulled it on, already walking. She worked the wheelchair controls and followed into the next room.

  Lykke Dahlberg was seated at the top of a six-person table. She waved for Aram to take a seat; a chair was missing, and Lawry took the place without asking. A screen in the middle of the table showed, in split-screen, both Karel Souček and colonel Tiessler. The two men were somber and tired; the German had found time to shave, but the Czech priest looked disheveled and unruly.

  “Are you alright, mr. Aram?“ asked Tiessler from his screen.

  The Dacian nodded to
wards the screen without saying anything. He, too, was somber.

  “Mr. Aram was just about to tell us his idea,“ muttered Dahlberg, her face stony.

  Aram drew a deep breath, looked across the table at Jessica Lawry and said, as if speaking directly to her:

  “We kill them both.“

  Lawry turned white. Dahlberg’s face suffered not even the slightest change. Tiessler raised his eyebrows, while Souček exhaled noisily and looked exasperated.

  “Now is not the time…“ began Dahlberg.

  “No, I’m not joking,“ said Aram. “Listen to me. When a wisent attacks an unarmed man, the only chance is to play dead. It doesn’t always work, but the wisent is far stronger and faster, so there’s no point running or fighting back. But the one thing that works better than playing dead is being dead. If hyenas attack a sheep, you kill the sheep, not the hyenas. Just shoot an arrow into it. They’ll let it go, and you can still eat the sheep.“

  “It will take more than two thousand years for mankind to adopt cannibalism,“ said Souček, coldly.

  “What?“

  “He means we don’t want to eat Mark and Zi. Come on, Aram. That can’t be what you came up with.“

  “Hell, people, of course we don’t eat them. My idea goes like this: we, erm, kill them; the Square abandons them, because whatever he plans to do with them now, they’ll be of no use to him dead. Then we quickly pick them up and take them to the nearest Quickening.“

  This time, everyone’s face was blank. Lawry was unsure. She began to open her mouth, but didn’t say anything.

  Aram looked around. “We don’t eat them, for fuck’s sake. I was just trying to give an example. I know nowadays you probably shoot hyenas from space or something.“

  There was still silence. The Dacian began to feel confused. He looked at each in turn, and asked: “What? Bad plan?“

  “Mr. Aram,“ began Dahlberg again. “I believe I speak for everyone, and I mean everyone in the widest possible sense, when I ask you: What exactly is a ‘quickening’?“

  Aram smiled in confusion. When he saw that the question had been asked in earnest, he became a little dumbfounded.

  “I… how the hell should I know? I don’t know what they are, and I don’t care, either. I also don’t know what makes rain fall down or why fish have two eyes. You’re the one with all the explanations.“