The Spartan Chronicles - Continued

Googlie · September 23, 1999, 22:30

Hargreaves had asked the pilot to detour over Plex Anthill so that he could see firsthand the devastation that the battle had wrought..

It was awesome. Battered hulks of armored vehicles dotted the landscape around the base, which itself, from the air, looked to be largely piles of rubble. In the harbor, and offshore, could be seen the wrecks of transport ships and warships, and even this many hours after the cease fire columns of smoke still spiraled lazily into the early morning air from damaged vehicles and destroyed buildings..

As they overflew the airbase, he could see the devastation caused by the artillery bombardment and by the bombing and strafing runs. He saw a Morgan transport taxiing around the potholes in the synthcrete runway getting ready to disgorge its load of garrison troops ready to assume command of the base.

A veteran of several Spartan engagements, Basil couldn’t remember ever before seeing so much destruction.

The contrast with Morgan Processing was indescribable.

As they approached over the vast solar arrays that defined Morgan Energy Monopoly, and began their descent to Processing, Basil was awed by the sheer ostentation of the Morganites.

‘Only they’, he thought, ‘could cover a continent and its oceans with solar mirrors and tidal energy harnesses.’

He reviewed his notes as they began their final descent.

The base had a population of just over 70,000 and while as a Morgan base it had a high cyclical output of 10 nutrients, 10 minerals and, as was to be expected, 47 energy credits. As he keyed in his data he saw that it would be less productive as a Spartan base. The nutrients took a tumble to only 4, and the energy to 7, but the minerals really accelerated up to 18. As he ran the simulations, Basil noted that he would need to divert human capital to foster the talents, to keep the drone problems manageable in the immediate future.

He called up the file on the Base Manager, one Cecil Krantzenstein.

Re-elected manager in the gubernorial elections of 2222, with two remaining years to serve in his current term. Ran on a platform of strong base infrastructure, and received over 70% of the vote.

Probe reports and scuttlebutt say that he was a reluctant convert to the directional change of a few weeks ago whereby many of the bases rush-built their production quotas and retooled for military upgrading. Not a favorite of CEO Morgan’s nor of Morgan Jr.

Hargreaves resolved to have an early meeting with Cecil and try to convince him to stay on.

He’d need some garrison troops. He’d sent word to the 469th before he left asking them to “drop in” to Morgan Processing after he’s taken office, and they would give him a strong counter-Yang presence in case the Hive got nasty.

And he’d given a lot of thought to renaming the base. He knew from Googlie’s files that he and Burge had talked about new base names, and wanted to get back into the mainstream Spartan philosophy and away from Santiago’s late fixation with esoteric names. Burge’s preference for the next base was one that Basil liked.

Morgan Processing would become Ruby Ridge Memorial.

As the Spartan Government needlejet came in low for its landing, Hargreaves couldn’t help but be impressed at the opulence of the Morgan base.

There seemed to be no base facility that was wanting, and there were some that from the air Basil didn’t recognize at all.

He glanced at his commlink reader and scanned the list that he had been sent.

Childrens Creche
Recycling Tanks
Recreation Commons
Energy Bank
Network Node
Hologram Theatre
Tree Farm
Hybrid Forest
Habitation Complex
Centauri Preserve

“Hmmmm. I wonder what that last one is”, he thought. “I must pay an early visit.”

Then the bonus. Morgan Processing was the home of one of Morgan’s Special projects – The Weather Paradigm.

As the jet came in from the east, he saw to the south, in the bay, the four great tidal harnesses that generated much of the base’s energy. With typical Morgan efficiency, kelp farms had been established along their superstructure to provide added nutrients for the base population.

To the north were the huge solar collectors that were in the Base’s zone of control, forming part of the massive aray that stretched as far as the eye could see to the northeast.

On the base’s southwestern boundary stood a massive farm, with its neat rows of fruits trees and vegetables supplemented by the greenhouses and hydroponic tanks that kept the oxygen level and temperature constant.

The base’s sensor array could be seen to the northwest, by the airport.

What was impressive was that all the remaining land contained within the base’s zone of control was forested. “Probably part of their tree farm and hybrid forest development,” he thought.

They swept into a perfect landing and taxied to the administration building.

As the needlejet’s retractable exitway deployed, Basil saw hurrying towards the doors a somewhat portly figure impeccably attired in a dark blue synthsilk suit, with a white cotton analogue shirt adorned with a cheery red polka dot tie. He had a matching handkerchief in his hand with which he mopped beads of sweat that developed periodically on his forehead and upper lip. His shoes were shining black, of some synthleather that took a mirror like shine.

As Basil descended, the awaiting Morganite stuck out his hand awkwardly.

“Cecil Krantzenstein at your service. You must be Basil Hargreaves?”

“The very same,” replied Basil. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“This way, please,” he said, indicating a limorover that was waiting nearby. “I’ve vacated my offices for you, and I’ll take you right there.”

“Okay,” Basil replied. “But I may be more comfortable with an office suite in one of your hotels. I imagine you’ll still need your office as Manager.”

“As Manager?” Cecil asked. “You don’t wanrt to supplant me and impose military or police rule?”

“Not at all,” replied Basil. In The Spartan Federation we have Base Governors – a sort of political appointment – and Base Administrators, elected by the populace, who run the Base. I would expect you to remain with the Base Administrator title, to do what you’ve always done, and to brief me in how your customs differ from ours, and what your people will expect as Spartan Citizens with a Morgan background.”

Cecil positively beamed.

“Splendid,” he said. “I should like that very much. I’ll arrange for an office suite to be reserved at the Local Morgan Hilton. I’ll do that right away.”

He flipped his commlink open, and barked a few orders into it, then flicked it shut.

“It will take an hour or so. Would you like a tour of the base in the way in?”

“That’s be useful,” said Basil. “I’d especially like you to explain to me and to see your Centauri Preserve. I’m familiar with all your other base facilities, but have never come across this before.”

“It’d be my pleasure,” said Cecil, giving the limo driver the appropriate instructions.

Basil sank back in the comfort of the seats to enjoy the ride.

Googlie · September 23, 1999, 22:32

Marlo looked again at the saved messaage.

Corazon Santiago. Coming to her via the secure commlink connection of Salvador St James.

Was it genuine?

If so, then the Colonel was alive and well, and still taking an active interest in Spartan politics.

But maybe she was sending it under duress.

Marlo had put a trace on the letter that Googlie had received from St James, and it had originated in Morgan territory. So it was reasonable to assume that he was still there. And if he was there, then Santiago was there, if she were using his commlink.

But was she sending this message under duress?

Her vote was to continue the fight against yang, to utterly destroy him, as she could work with Ashaandi. But that would be a typical Morgan ploy, to keep Sparta embroiled in a war that they couldn’t win alone. They needed a military ally.

So if St James and Santiago were being held captive – or perish the thought, being mind controlled – that’s exactly the kind of response that Morgan would give.

The real question was, is that the response that the Colonel would give if she were under her own free will?

Marlo read the response again, searching for clues.

”Nay. Every assistance must continue to be given to the usurper Haarand Ashaandi. Yang must be destroyed, and destroyed utterly. Miriam Godwinson is dead - now let us finish Sheng-Ji Yang, and Planet may gain the Peace of the Builders at last."

Corazon Santiago a builder? Marlo found that hard to believe. And how did she, in Morgan territory, know that Ashaandi was moving, in the persona of Burge, against Yang?

This had to be a plant.

Marlo resolved to wait until a few other votes came in, but the deadline to get back to Yang was looming.

Hydro · September 24, 1999, 09:14

Plex Anthill

*****

Rao watched the Morgan General Nolan Harthgrave depart with his entourage. After some brief and reasonably pleasant exchange of social niceties the General had established that Rao was the Spartan nominally in control of Plex Anthill, and that he had the power to formally relinquish the base to Morgan rule. So it was official: Plex Anthill was now a Morgan base.

It was also clear to Rao that General Harthgrave was a political general, and that he had never seen combat beyond holo simulations. His bearing was a little prissy, and his uniform was a little too immaculate. Also, he expressed open disdain for the lack of amenities available at Plex. Rao had explained, with some dour delight, in response to the general’s question that there were no recreation commons or holo theaters. More to the point, the base’s population at the verge of starvation due to the destruction of all farms, and the city was producing almost no energy after the Hive and Spartan artillery bombardment had destroyed all solar collectors. In short, Plex was a wreck.

Still, the general was more than willing to arrange for an orderly removal of Spartan forces, and had given them a full three days to evacuate. In truth, that was more than Rao had expected. The general had even offered the use, for a suitable fee to the Spartan government, of his air transports for removal of the critically wounded to Assassin’s Redoubt. His real motivation was probably to get the Spartans out of his turf ASAP, but Rao was not going to turn down the offer, whatever the motivation.

There had been some good news on this otherwise depressing day. Kat and her rover crew from Lightning Brigade had been found alive buried under hundreds of tons of rock. They had been assumed dead in a crushed rover after the Hive rover missile barrage that took out the east wall of the bay. Miraculously, three huge boulders had formed a bridge under which the partially crushed rover had found shelter. Although the hull was breached, Kat’s crew had managed to pull through, and even signal that they were alive. The rover was a loss, but given the circumstances Rao didn’t care. His people were more important than equipment.

The first convoys of Spartans had already left Plex for Assassin’s Redoubt, and all but the critically wounded would be evaced within 48 hours. Helan Tobias, the Military Governor of Assassin’s Redoubt, had been more than helpful in organizing and procuring resources for the evacuation. She had even arranged for an empath, one Captain Sarah Dawson, to be her liaison for the next chaotic week or so. She would arrive on the first civilian Spartan transport, scheduled to touch down within the hour.

Already Plex seemed to fade into a bad dream.

Hydro · September 24, 1999, 13:52

Communal Nexus

*****

The riots and chaos in Communal Nexus, formerly a Hive city and now nominally under Morgan control, were well hidden for they were all below ground within the subterranean labyrinth. At ground surface all appeared calm, except for more than normal surface vehicle movement between sectors. Everything was intact: sensors, farmland, forests, and roads.

Breaking the semi-silence was a loud, piercing metallic clang that rang through the air. It was short and abrupt, and it echoed slightly through the night sky. A bright light, first a pinpoint in the southwest corner of the Communal Nexus warren, waxed and within seconds illuminated the few low buildings and domes that were present at the surface.

The light became blinding as a long and massive cylinder erupted out of its launch tube. It arced up almost at the speed of sound leaving a trail of gas and steam in its wake. As quickly as the Planet Buster appeared it almost disappeared into the late night sky as it arced toward its new home: Morgan Transport.

[This message has been edited by Hydro (edited September 24, 1999).]

Slats · September 24, 1999, 18:36

SPARTA COMMAND, S.A.C HEADQUARTERS

Air Marshal Ben ' Slats ' Miller, Head of Spartan Air Command sat back in his office chair and sighed. Night was falling outside and it had been a hard day. He'd recieved a commlink message from Marlo detailing the ceasefire some time ago. Ben had sent his agreement almost immediatly.

Slats rubbed his face with his hands in an attempt to wake himself up. The ceasefire was both bad and good news. Many Spartan units could use the break from otherwise constant fighting, the troops at Plex Anthill more than others.However Plex was no more longer his concern. After the last of the Spartan forces left there the base was Morgan's problem. Video footage sent from his crews there showed the continuous shuttling of Morgan forces into the area by transportation jets. The four Spartan aircraft stationed there had been running Combat Air Patrols to ensure the switchover went without interruption. After this task was accomplished they would escort the battered Spartan forces to Assasins Redoubt.

But Yang had almost been defeated!! Many of his bases had fallen and it had seemed that victory was in sight! Now there he was being given more breathing room......
Ben hated fighting as much as the next person. seeing his crews in hospital with grevious injuries and finding KIA reports on his desk some mornings was heart rending. Living breathing people who looked up to him as their commander had given their lives for the Spartan cause. Both sides needed to lick their wounds.

Ben tapped his desk terminal control panel to turn it on and then called up the strategic placement map for S.A.C combat units. The four units at Plex Anthill already had their orders. An additional four units were at Sea Base, protecting the colony while forces for the now postponed attack on Great Clustering gathered there. These aircraft where obviously no longer needed.

Miller quickly constructed a flash message from a standard template ordering the flight to make their way to Morgan Processing ( now Ruby Ridge Memorial ) and take up temporary garrison duty. Due to it's proximity to Hive territory a sizeable air defense was needed there quickly to secure the location from surprise raids. A final tap of the key sent the order on it's way over secure and encrypted military channels. A second message but this time with an attached video burst informed the new Base Governor at RRM of the incoming reinforcements.
Slats shrugged on his jacket and drained the last of his fungal coffee. He switched off his desk terminal and with a nod to the guard outside headed for the vehicle pool. Twenty minutes later Slats was safely home. Despite his tiredness he didn't sleep well that night.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

SPARTA COMMAND AEROSPACE COMPLEX
SPARTAN SPACE DEFENSE HQ

Nichola scratched at the spot on her scalp under her headset. They were a good quality make but she had been wearing them for nearly 8 hours and they were beginning to itch. Nichola leaned back in her chair and propped her feet up against her console. She took in a deep sniff of the conditioned air filled with the scent of hot electronics.

Nichola sat in the very heart of of the Spartan Space Defense programme, the Orbital Operations Room. This giant area was slightly below ground level and shaped like a giant ampitheatre of old. It's steep sided semi circle shape was filled with the thirty workstations which helped control Spartan aerospace activities ( all of one satellite ). Several of the stations had never been ever booted up. The workload was simply so light. Except for a launch day there would be only a couple of consoles active. Nichola was alone tonight, on a nightly monitering shift. The holographics in front of her showed an overview of Planet. A slowly moving dot, captioned by velocity and heading data portrayed the Sky Hydroponics installation SKYEBLAZER 1. Nichola smirked at the description, that bird carried more digital cameras, look down radars and IR arrays than most Spartan recon aircraft.

Nearly every agency in the Federation screamed for coverage from the satellite. More footprint data as they called it. Yet now at night there was no tasking to be done. Apart from the ususal watchdog programs no outer organizations were asking for datalinks. Nichola took to using one of the satellites onboard camera's to look for something interesting. She had just started to observe an epic battle between a Hive foil and a small Isle Of The Deep when several alarms went off at once.

A quick check revealed the reason. An object was confirmed to be rising from the recently captured base of Communal Nexus at several hundred feet per second. Ancillary programs spoke up. A positive ballistic track was confirmed. Diagnostics came back. Systems seemed fine. This was no phantom. Nichola called up feeds from the southern over-the-horizon radar sites. Confirmed. Confirmed. Confirmed. A triangulation program began to detail the object's destination point to within a couple of metres. Morgan Transport. The computer again hooted a warning. Object flight profile confirmed. Identified as possible ICBM. Intercontinental Ballistic Missile. Nine hundred seconds to impact.

Nichola's hand reached for the alert button.

Googlie · September 24, 1999, 19:36

SPARTA COMMAND HEADQUARTERS

To: All Military Leaders
All Base Governors
All Base Managers

Re: Cessation of Hostilities

By the authority vested in me by Scott Allardyce, Federation Governor, The Spartan Federation, I have today signed a permanent peace treaty with Chairman Sheng-Ji Yang, The Human Hive, effective 9.00 noon today.

Signed,

Per pro Scott Allardyce, Federation Governor

Marlo Hollis (Acting)

Paula Forbes · September 24, 1999, 20:19

Tape:2225/11/33/6.00pm © MorganLink 3Dvision

Good evening.

This is Russell Theakston bringing you the evening news courtesy of Morgan Holovision. Visit your local holoshop for the newest expersense vidcom letting you participate in the four bases liberation. Choose your own base to liberate. Remember, only Morgan Holovision delivers.

Tonight’s headline news is the announcement of a cessation of hostilities between The Spartan Federation and The Human Hive.

This was announced a few minutes ago from Sparta Command, by the Acting Federation Governor, Marlo Hollis.

How this will affect relations between our own Morgan Industries and the Human Hive is unclear at this moment.

Hive sources are placing the blame of their bases’ revolt squarely on our shoulders, saying that Morgan probe teams have been actively sowing seeds of dissention among the bases’ population.

What reaction Chairman Yang intends to display remains to be seen.

I now bring into discussion, live, our military advisor, retired General Wilfred Hawkes.

“General Hawkes, good evening.”

“Good evening, Russell. And please call me Freddy.”

“OK, Freddy. Now what is the significance to Morgan Industries of this peace agreement between the Hive and the Spartan Federation?”

“Well I’ll tell you, Russell, it’s not good for us.

“We have been extremely opportunistic in fomenting rebellion at the four hive bases when Yang’s back was turned, so to speak. I expect that our CEO thought that he would be a pinprick in the Chairman’s side as he would be so occupied with the imminent Spartan invasion.

“This ceasefire has changed everything. Now Yang can turn his full attention against us, and we certainly don’t have the military prowess to repulse him.”

“So, Freddy. What are we to do?”

Well, Russell, somehow CEO Morgan has to get the Junta involved again. The Spartans have to be brought back into the fight to offset yang’s military power.”

“And how can we do that?”

“This cease fire must be repudiated. CEO Morgan must somehow paint Marlo Hollis into a corner so that it will appear to be her decision alone. I don’t know to what extent the Junta are backing her – if at all – but clearly she must be isolated and the Spartans re-engaged in the battle.”

“Will this mean a smear campaign against her, or possible an energy bribe to the Spartans?”

“Possibly, Russell. You and I both know that CEO Morgan will do whatever it takes to avoid being the sole target of Yang’s wrath.”

“Well thank you, General Hawkes.

“That was retired general Wilfred Hawkes, giving us his expert opinion on today’s news from Sparta Command.

“Now for today’s other news.

“Mineral prices rose sharply today in the expectation of scarcities. The energy market………………………………………

[This message has been edited by Paula Forbes (edited September 24, 1999).]

Hydro · September 24, 1999, 21:03

Plex Anthill

*****

Betrayed again! Betrayed!

Angry clusters of the depleted Rolling Thunder and Airborne forces speculated endlessly about the announcement that had come in a flash from MorganNews: the Spartans have accepted a truce with the Hive! With the HIVE!

First they give away Plex! Then they cow-tow to Yang! He must be laughing at us! He thinks he has beaten us! And after we whipped his pasty white ass!

Who is this 'Marlo'? Who put her in charge?

Where is Googlie?!!! Isn't he in charge? What's going on! He wouldn't allow this!

Where is Burge?!!! He is a critical part of the Junta! How can he allow this to happen! He wouldn't allow this to happen either!

Had there been a Hive coup?! That would explain the COWARDACE! That would explain the TREACHERY! Has the Junta been brainwashed by some vile Yang plot?!! Remember the Ashaandi!!!!

Those people at HQ don't know what we were fighting for! WE know! We have seen what the Hive represents! They ARE inhuman! Yang is a monster, and is not to be trusted! If Yang wins we are all as good as DEAD! Yang will stab us in the back as soon as he can!

Yang started the war, and now WE will end it! Like when the old Soviets bombed Pearl Harbor! We'll finish it like we did with those decadent and faithless Yoopers! I don't care what Marlo says!

Only Santiago can call off the war! She called us to arms! She has called us before, and we have always answered her call. We trust her, not these weak willed Junta flunkies who don't even have the guts to make their own ****ing announcement! We follow her, not this Marlo!

Santiago would understand! She isn't a soft office puke, eating donuts all day! The hardest decision this Marlo probably ever made was what flavor donut to have after lunch! Now Santiago, she's a fighter! A WARRIOR!

This Marlo is a traitor! That's what she is!

Call General Wang! He will set things right! He'll SHOOT this Marlo! Right in the head! On the MorganNews! A public execution, just like the old days!

Yah! Get Rao! He'll call Wang!

~~~~~

Then the Spartans started rioting, and they were joined by equally outraged Morganites.

Chaos reigned once more in Plex Anthill.

Googlie · September 24, 1999, 21:19

Marlo sat deep in thought.

She’d only had six responses to her request for affirmation or denial of a permanent truce. Five were in favor, and one – Santiago herself – opposed. If Santiago’s was genuine, which she doubted.

In favor had been Miller, representing the SAC, Giacomazzi and McMillan, speaking for the Navy and one of the bases, Hargreaves, a Base Governor, and Bonaventura, the Chief Science Officer.

None of the army had responded, which was bad news.

However, her message had been plain. There was a deadline to be met, and the overwhelming majority of those responding had voted for the permanent truce.

But what to make of the “Santiago” response?

Idly she was twiddling with Googlie’s holoconsole, and suddenly had an idea.

“Santiago,” she said.

Password?

“Jinty.”

The hologram flicked to life.

Corazon, or Ersatz?

Ersatz? What the heck was that?

“Corazon,” she said.

The hologram flickered

Do you wish the most recent meeting, or the previous?

“Most recent.”

The holo flickered again, and Marlo sat entranced.

She was watching the meeting between Santiago and Allardyce when she was demanding his resignation and offering him the Ambassadorship to the Daughters of Gaia.

She sat stunned when she saw the revelation that Googlie Allardyce was Julia Santiago’s father – and that Deirdre was her mother. And at the obvious deep friendship that existed between Corazon and Deirdre. Marlo couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. She herself and Corazon went back to the Los Angeles days, pre Unity, and all these years Corazon hadn’t confided in her. And, too, she had never felt comfortable enough using the dimunitive name, but Googlie obviously did, with his Corrie this and Corrie that.

On a whim, Marlo turned round to the commlink console, and said “Santiago.”

Static stuttered over the screen for a few seconds, then Marlo gasped in surprise.

She was looking at the face of Corazon Santiago.

“Colonel, you are alive?” she stammered.

“Of course,” was the reply. “Did you doubt for a moment?”

“I didn’t know,” said Marlo. “The commlink you sent, using St. James console, made me think you were sending under duress. Are you?”

“Why, no,” Santiago replied.

“I’m here in Gaian territory as a guest of The Lady Deirdre. She has kindly given me offices and a small staff, and I am following events with a keen interest.”

“If you are not being held against your will, why not just return and reassume command?” asked Marlo.

“Well, I have my reasons. I am waiting for the right moment to intervene. But the Junta seems to be doing just fine without me.”

“I need to know,” said Marlo, “if you are in favor of the permanent truce with The Hive?”

“Of course I am,” said the Colonel. “There never was much point in this war, and there is nothing to be gained by humiliating Yang further. We have captured one base, and parlayed that into quite a jewel, and he has lost four others to the Morganites, blast their hides. I never had a personal quarrel with Yang, and our two peoples can live in peace. Planet is big enough for both of us.

“I will intervene if he makes a move against the Gaians. They have suffered enough at his hands. But I’ll not lift a finger to help Morgan. That bloated capitalist deserves everything bad that he gets.”

“Corrie,” said Marlo. “Can I ask a favor?”

“Of course, dear,” said the Colonel. “What is it?”

“Will you broadcast tonight to the military commanders that you support the peace accord?”

“Come out of my seclusion, and declare myself? It will mean my return. Are you ready for that? Is Googlie? Is Burge? Is St. James?”

“I can’t speak for them, as Googlie is in the rejuvenation tanks, St James is – well you know where he is, and..”

“I do? I haven’t seen Salvador since before the nuclear attack.”

“Oh," said Marlo. "And Burge is doing who knows what – he just ignores my commlinks.”

“And what about you, Marlo. Would you welcome me back?”

Marlo looked into the eyes of her friend and mentor of so many years, Corazon Santiago. Time was she would have died for this woman.

“Of course, Corrie. You know I would. I want my lover back.”

“Ah, yes, “ said Santiago. “In that case I’ll commlink them and try to broadcast as well tonight.”

“Come back soon,” said Marlo. “We need you.”

She flicked the commlink shut, and the face faded from the console on the wall.

[This message has been edited by Googlie (edited September 24, 1999).]

Googlie · September 24, 1999, 21:35

Burst transmission to all Military Commanders and Base Governors and Administrators

This is Colonel Corazon Santiago

I am alive and well, a guest of Lady Deirdre Skye.

I am leaving within the hour to return to Sparta Command to resume control of the Junta.

Let there be no doubt that I support the permanent cease-fire between ourselves and the Hive. The time for warring is past. CEO Morgan is alone in his fight with Chairman Yang – but I implore both to try and resolve their differences peacefully.

The position of Supreme Commander is abolished immediately, and all units are commanded to return to their bases, except for the garrison troops and air units deploying to Ruby Ridge memorial, formerly Morgan Processing.

In appreciation of Lady Deirdre’s generous hospitality I have given her the Spartan Guarantee that should a finger be lifted by any faction against the Gaians they will be answerable to us.

I look forward to our reunion as soon as possible. I will contact you through Marlo Hollis. Until my return and resumption of my rightful place as your junta leader, she has my full support and confidence, and acts as my deputy in all matters.

Corazon Santiago

Googlie · September 24, 1999, 21:54

Marlo pondered the events of the past half hour.

Who had brainwashed the colonel. For she was not the same woman that Marlo knew, that was for sure.

But the transmission had been gratifying, solidifying her position and supporting the stance that she had taken on the ceasefire.

But her comments about St James were mystifying.

And she hadn’t even raised an eyebrow at her use of Corrie.

And she and Santiago had never been lovers.

So who had been messing with the colonel’s brain, and to what end.

She ran the evening’s sequence of events through her mind again.

Ah, there it was.

Corazon or Ersatz

What the heck was Ersatz.

“Santiago,” she said again.

Password?

“Jinty.”

The hologram flicked to life.

Corazon, or Ersatz?

“Ersatz,” she said.

The hologram flickered

Do you wish the most recent meeting, or the previous?

“Most recent.”

The holo flickered again, and once more Marlo sat entranced

The woman passed Googlie her disc.

He opened the console and swiped it through his personal port, the transfer being instantaneous.

"Ten credits it is."

"And worth every sou", he added. "Even I could not tell the difference."

The chameleon actress pocketed her disc and smiled.

"I am a unique Talent, Governor Allardyce" she said proudly. "Only Corazon herself could know it wasn't she".

"Hide yourself well, Alexis", He said. "Your life is now in danger. Trust no one."

She nodded and left.

Marlo ran it again.

So Alexis Shtelnikov was in Googlie’s pay. Now this was interesting.

She turned to the commlink console.

“Shtelnikov,” she said.

Nothing happened.

“Shtelnikov, Jinty” she said.

Still nothing.

On an impulse she said:

“Lindsay Arms”

The holo of the Lindsay arms came to life.

“Skyeblazer,” she said.

verbal password

“Jinty.”

Confirm

“Jinty.”

The commlink console flickered to life as the Lindsay Arms holo faded to transparent.

Static stuttered over the screen for a few seconds, then Marlo gasped in surprise.

She was looking once more at the face of Corazon Santiago.

“Alexis,” she said. “Your cover is blown.”

“It already was,” she said. “Both Lady Deirdre and Julia know.”

“Who else?”

“No-one to my knowledge. But how did you find out?”

“We were never lovers. And I never called you Corrie in 200 years together. I put two and two together, but the clincher was that Googlie kept a holorecord of your payment.”

“Stupid man. Didn’t he encrypt it?”

“He did, but he had to give me his code for another reason.”

“What do you want me to do now, Marlo. I’ve transmitted to the military leaders and Base Governors and Administrators,”

“Yes, I’ve already received mine – and thanks for the plug.”

“And I’ve made the vidtape for a broadcast – Paula Forbes is here with a crew just wrapping up an in-depth on the Gaians. We’re just wondering how to get it aired.”

“Come back to Sparta Command, requisition Paula’s MorganNews jet, and bring her and her crew with you. We’ll run it from their studio in SC. And you and I can work to redeem this sorry mess. I’ll run the Federation from behind the scenes while you play Santiago. I’ll pay you well.”

“Marlo, I’m on my way.”

[This message has been edited by Googlie (edited September 24, 1999).]

Googlie · September 24, 1999, 22:19

Scott 'Googlie' Allardyce slept on immersed in the gunk of the rejuvenation tanks

Hydro · September 24, 1999, 22:24

Morgan Industries

*****

The city managers rose and started to file out of the Council meeting room. Only two remained seated: Morgan Senior and Barbara Vang, City Manger of Morgan Bank. Expressions of disgust, fear and confusion played across the faces of the departing City Managers, sometimes all three at once. So much had changed in six hours that many, if now everyone, was thoroughly overwhelmed. They had gone from peace, to victorious war hand-in-hand with Sparta against the Hive, to war alone against an implacable and overwhelmingly strong foe.

Opportunity had turned into disaster with the surprise announcement of the Spartan-Hive truce. One City Manager, Li Zhou, had suggested suing for peace with Yang. Silence had greeted this suggestion. Everyone knew the only peace Yang would accept is the full-fledged surrender of Morgan and all Morgan cities to his control. Acrimony and accusation flowed richly between the managers over who had supported this rash course of action that had gone so severely astray. Mostly, the blame was heaped upon a surprisingly quiet Morgan. Morgan, being very politically astute, knew that silence was much better then weak looking defensiveness. It was better to remain resolute and strong.

After a half an hour of venting the inevitable conclusion had been reached: we must fight on. It was the obvious conclusion, as the alternative was too horrible to contemplate. All production would be geared immediately toward the military, and crash built if at all feasible. Even Morgan Bank, with its puny industrial capability, would produce low-cost garrisons to gird the city from the storm to come. In short - a total war footing was being enacted, and there was absolutely no disagreement.

After the last of the Managers had left Barbara stood. As she approached she thought Morgan looked abnormally calm, almost frigid or brittle.

"That went about as well as could be expected, you know, Newby," Barbara said as she pulled up a chair close to Morgan. She did so slowly so not to strain her ancient and willowy frame. The chair was heavy, being made of synthwalnut and rather massive, but she took her time. It would give Nwubudike time to think.

Finally Morgan snapped out of it and looked and focused at Barbara.

"I've been a risk taker all my life, Barbara. Have I lost at last?"

Barbara reached over and took his hands and cradled it between her own arthritic and wrinkled hands. She looked into his hooded eyes. "Newby, this isn't like you. Where is your fire? You aren't even close to beaten. So you lost the first throw. So what! It is the last throw that counts!"

Morgan's features seemed to melt, the frigidness draining away, and he smiled slightly. "You are correct, as usual. Begin with the end in mind! It is sometimes the intangibles that count. Let me speculate - you have some suggestions?"

Barbara smiled in return and patted his hands. "You know them as well as I do. First, use your remaining operatives to cause havoc within the Hive. Second, withdrawn all your operatives from other lands for a second wave. Steal Yang's energy - he will be poor without our 'contributions', and keeping him poor will make our jobs easier and enrich our coffers. Sabotage his infrastructure. Bribe his units. Kill his operative. Be ruthless. You have a 2:1 advantage in operatives, so use it. Third, keep building your military forces, even at the expense of a horrendous support cost. In short order you will have a very credible defensive and then offensive force at home and and at your new acquisitions. Forth, draw in the Gaians or Lal. They are weak, but may be able to help, especially if you are generous with the spoils. We have resources they don't have and we can afford to give. Fifth, just because the Spartans announce a truce doesn't mean it is permanent! Truces can be broken, especially for 'consideration'. Newby, my old and dear friend, you have that 'consideration' at your disposal, and this is why we have it."

Morgan's smile erupted into a gentle laugh. He patted her hand in return with considerable vigor.

"Barbara, what would I do without you! You lift the shrouds from my eyes and assist me in clear sight. You are wise and insightful, as I have come to expect an rely upon."

"Don't forget, Newby, the biggest benefit of our new situation!" Barbara said seriously.

Morgan Senior looked questioningly at her.

"We got RID of the weasel Cecil! Those poor Spartan bastards don't know what they got with Morgan Processing!"

The last tattered bits of gloom departed from Morgan Senior as he burst into laughter. Barbara smiled in return.

"Can you think of anyone else we need to get rid of?" Morgan said playfully, still chuckling.

"A few. I'll give you a list."

With considerable energy Morgan pushed back his heavy chair and stepped over to assist Barbara with hers.

"So, what are you going to do first?" Barbara asked.

Morgan thought for a moment as they walked around the meeting table and toward the beaten bronze doors of the Council Chamber.

"I want to talk to Santiago."

Barbara patted him on the back in support, as if to affirm his choice. As they reached the portal Morgan held the door for Barbara, even through it wasn't necessary, the closed it after them after they left.

The doors boomed shut in the silence of the empty room.

Hydro · September 24, 1999, 23:06

Sparta Command

*****

Field Marshal Wang read the communiqué from the long missing Corazon Santiago one more time to be sure he understood it correctly.

Santiago: Let there be no doubt that I support the permanent cease-fire between ourselves and the Hive. The time for warring is past. CEO Morgan is alone in his fight with Chairman Yang - but I implore both to try and resolve their differences peacefully.

Since when did Yang ever resolve his difference peacefully with anyone, Wang thought with incredulity. Santiago has never been that naïve. The Believers and Gaians know first hand about Yang's mercy and peacefulness.

The Field Marshal got up and paced over in his new office in the recently refurbished Command Center at Sparta Command. His window overlooked the bustling city of 60,000. Small and underdeveloped by the standards of Lal, Morgan, or even Yang, the city was still home. Only a day ago the same Yang who the Spartans were now at peace with had threatened to vaporize every soul in Sparta Command in a nuclear holocaust. Peaceful intent, indeed.

In all likelihood I would be atomized if not for Morgan's actions, Wang thought. Still, orders were orders, and suspicions amounted to nothing.

Wang paced back to his desk. He sat and closed his eyes as if tired or in meditation, but in reality blinking the organilense over his left eye.

"Computer, activate and verify identification."

Wang turned toward the red sensor and presented his left eye for opti and DNA scan.

Identity confirmed: General Hui Wang

Hui Wang quickly formulated his message.

* Urgent Communiqué to 2nd Armor Rolling Thunder Divison Commander Captain Rao Kosarau and Lightning Strike Division Commander Captain Melanie Casaroni
* Ref ID - 29890-A-XXX
* Authorization - 2nd Armor Field Marshal Hui Wang
* R.E. - Confirmation of Orders
* You are hereby ordered to obey the cease fire orders issued by acting Marlo Hollis and confirmed by Corazon Santiago. Effective immediately you are to withdraw to your home bases and cease all hostilities with the Hive. Any disobeying this order will be subject to drum head court marshal.

"Computer, send message."

Wang placed his arms on his desk and clasped his hands together and he closed his eyes to compose himself. He mentally activated infrequently used circuitry embedded in his cerebral cortex oh so long ago. He composed his simple message and sent it to Yang:

Honored Chairman. Santiago has confirmed the cease fire and has pledged no support for Morgan. Glory To The People. The Dragon

Wang drew a deep breath. Then he sent an amended version to Santiago:

Corrie. I have sent the following message to Yang: Honored Chairman. Santiago has confirmed the cease fire and has pledged no support for Morgan. Glory To The People. The Dragon.

Corrie, I hope you know what you are doing. W.

[This message has been edited by Hydro (edited September 25, 1999).]

Rynn · September 25, 1999, 00:17

There was a soft knock on the apartment door.

Marlo was lying in bed, reading some dispatches she had printed out the old fashioned way - sometimes, at night, she preferred this to looking at the screen of a commlink or console.

She rolled her legs over the side of the bed and padded to the door, activating the security scan as she went.

Glancing up at the small console in the foyer, she saw a familiar figure impatiently shuffling from one foot to the other.

Marlo hurried to deactivate the door lock, and drew it open.

"Paula, darling. This is a surprise. I didn't expect you so soon. Come on in. Don't just stand there."

Paula Forbes came into the apartment, and put her bag down and took off her jacket as Marlo shut the door and re-engaged the lock.

Paula's jacket was no sooner hung on the rack than Marlo had her in her arms, her mouth seeking out Paula's as they kissed passionately.

"You've no idea how much I've wanted this," breathed Marlo in her ear as they paused for breath, then their lips hungrily sought each others' again.

Gently Paula steered them to the open bedroom door and to the bed, taking off her skirt and dropping it on the floor at her feet as they moved to the bed.

They sat on the bed, and as Marlo took off her nightdress Paula moved behind her, and reached around to cup Marlo's breasts in her hands. Marlo shivered with delight and expectation as her nipples hardened.

Paula ran her hands up over Marlo's breasts to her shoulders and neck, gently massaging as Marlo squirmed with delight.

"I'll take my blouse off," said Paula, reaching to her own clothes to untie the synthsilk designer scarf she was wearing.

"Oh, yes," purred Marlo. "Do."

Paula took the scarf and gently put it around Marlo's neck.

"Feel how soft it is," she said.

"Mmmm, yes."

Paula flicked both ends of the scarf and the synthsteel filament in the scarf locked and she twisted sharply, cutting into Marlo's windpipe, and choking the life out from her. After a few seconds of futile struggling Marlo's body went limp in her hands.

Paula checked the pulse at the wrists and throat- none.

She retrieved her scarf, and again it was a designer synthsilk creation. She padded over to where her skirt lay on the floor, and put it on, not bothering to fasten the clasps, and retrieved her jacket and bag.

She let herself out and shut the door behind her.

On the landing to the apartment, she looked around to make sure no-one was there, then relaxed.

Her features shimmered, and her face elongated slightly. Her shoulders sagged somewhat as her torso perceptably lengthened, and her breasts became slightly fuller.

She reached into her bag and took out a skirt and jacket, which now fit, and changed into them, stuffing the old clothes into the bag.

She flicked her commlink, selecting a secure channel, and spoke quietly:

"The witch has been eliminated"

Snapping the commlink shut, she looked around one final time, and exited the building.

The chameleon assassin merged into the evening crowd going home from the recreation commons.

Rynn · September 25, 1999, 01:15

Kurt and Shauna kept hidden as the old transport ship lay at the docks in Great Clustering.

They had found the ship with little difficulty at the leaders Horde using the longshoreman contact that Shauna had, and he had been more than willing to help.

The ship was a Peacekeeper tramp, and was carrying some minerals from The Horde to Morgan Processing, but was picking up some cargo at GC as well.

At sea they didn't need to remain hidden, but around hive coastal waters, and especially when docked, they had to stay below and remain out of sight.

It didn't stop them from being inquisitive, however, and the proceedings at Great Clustering intrigued them.

A dilapidated rover had trundled up to the quayside, and while a couple of rather obvious guards stood watch a severely wounded individual had been helped aboard, heavily bandaged and sedated. Kurt and Shauna had espied the commotion and movement from a small viewing crack they had in their cubbyhole, and the ever-curious Kurt had sent out a slight tendril of interrogative thought to the bandaged body.

The mind however was crystal clear.

As Kurt gently probed he was suddenly aware of an enormous presence in his own mind, paralyzing him neurally, and rendering him unable to do anything to prevent the mindsweep from being utterly complete.

He felt drained as the presence exited and he turned to Shauna to tell her what had just happened only to see and recognize that she too was caught in the relentless probe of her mind. He tried to intervene and help but was shut out by the most elaborate of defenses he'd ever encountered in another mind. He knew that Shauna did not have this capability, so deduced that they were in the presence of an empath of unsurpassed power and strength.

He returned his attention across the ship to the body being helped below deck on a stretcher. The mind was open to him, so he charged in to investigate.

The mind was beautiful and orderly. He was an astrogator, charting courses to the distant stars through wormholes and spacetwists. He had the power himself to twist the very fabric of space to enable his ship to shortcut many light years provided he imbibed enough of a spice to give him that space sentience.

Kurt was mesmerized as he explored the mind, till he sensed a mocking mental laugh. Startled, he pulled back slightly, then resumed his exploring.

But now he was confused. The mind was a jumbled cacophony of psychedelic images and experience memories as he was a Chiron RockStar fresh from a gig at Morgan Energy, where adulation and riches had been heaped on him but where too he had found some potent drugs that enhanced the whole experience.

Kurt snapped out of his exploration trance as he felt Shauna tugging at his arm.

"Kurt, we have to be careful with this one."

"Why - he seems to be a mixed up druggie," said Kurt.

"No, he's not. I was in partway with you - he has a mental chameleon ability that lets him be anyone he wants neurally even to the extent that he would fool a veteran probe team. I've heard of him, and met him once before. He's possible the Hive's best empath."

"Who is he, then?" asked Kurt.

"His name is Sand."

Hydro · September 26, 1999, 00:02

Command Nexus

*****

Arrayed in the latest MorganNet holo gear, nine Morgan Operatives sat motionless in a semicircle in a nondescript but secure room in the Alpha Sector of the recently captured former Hive city of Command Nexus. Every member had a shaved head, and ranged in apparent age from teenagers to elderly, although in truth these operatives could appear to be any age they wanted. The age they chose to show was a matter of personal taste, and what expensive longevity treatments could offer. Gender seemed to be about equal, but this was a matter of convenience. Apparent gender could and was changed as needed, or desired.

Each was covered from head to toe in a glistening black form-fitting body suit. Only parts of their bare skulls and portions of their faces were visible. Barely visible and intricately intertwined on the surface of the suit was a fine mesh of superconductors and sensors. These sensors and conductors met in small nodes, which held miniature transmitters that relayed neural impulses to waiting receptor at the speed of light. Each person's eyes were fully enmeshed in holo goggles, except for one operative who had had his eyes replaced by permanent holo transmitters.

His name was Rider.

Our orders are as follows: invade the Data Repository at the Hive installation Great Clustering. Grab what we can, then leave. We are to minimize our exposure to harm.

Initiate interlink. Initiate diagnostic. Verify interlink stability.

Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. his team responded instantly.

Ready for Intrusion.

The group sat motionless and in silence for several seconds.

Vera, seated to the left of Rider, sub vocalized, Connected to Net. Connections enabled and secure. Pathways clear. Initiating Intrusion.

Several more seconds passed.

Vista enabled. Visualization algorithms enacted. Ready to submerge.

The room dissolved for the intrusion team. Senses twisted and reformulated. Several of the younger members twitched uncontrollably as their nervous systems accepted the alien digital impulses of the Net, which were transmuted into the Vista by their Intrusion algorithm. Gradually the Real World faded and Vista coalesced.

*****

Rider was standing on a sunny beach surrounded by this team: Vera, Harlin, Sy, Edilvia, Laur, Vicrant, Geo, and Milosav. Each had on a comfortable swimsuit. Edilvia had broken the mold with a full body suit, but the rest were considerably more revealing. All members were perfectly fit and sun bronzed, musculature rippling in anticipation. In the background the surf crashed gently at their feet, hissing up on to the white coral sand beach. The beach curved and extended onto the horizon. Inland were palm trees and lush green vegetation. Above the sky was clear and blue with large white fluffy clouds. The air was clean and pure, with a clean salty sea smell.

Further inland was a smoldering volcano, dark and menacing. Whitish grey steam issued lazily from its generally conical top.

Rider smiled. So this is Tahiti? Beautiful!

"OK team. Look sharp. Let's go," Rider commanded as he started walking toward the jungle. His team followed single file in his wake.

The white sand was hotter as they left the area whetted by the ocean. Without thinking, Sy and Geo subvocalized and sandals appeared on their feet. They continued to walk up the gentle incline of the beach, now stepping over occasional driftwood and palm fronds. At the high tide mark vegetation started appearing, and within 10 meters the primordial jungle began. Almost on cue, the team's clothing reformulated from beach swim trunks to light canvas gear that covered much of their exposed skin, walking boots, and wide-brimmed hats. Harlin subvocalized a walking stick/javelin. In the lead, Rider thought a machete into existence.

"Time for the first Barrier: perfunctory entry codes. I'll chop. The rest of you stand ready," Rider told them.

With each swiping arc of his machete the vegetation fell away. He was quickly hacking through the routine barriers that kept out 'surface users' from sensitive areas of the Net. They were no barrier to an experience Hacker, however. The thick jungle would be impassible without his virtual machete, the simplest of tools. Fronds, entangling vines, and even small hardwoods fell to his weapon. He stepped around the more permanent obstacles that took the form of tall palms or hardwoods. These were static encrypted Hard Sites of no consequence. Destroying them would only cause a 'crash' as the site fell and alert watching 'birds' and 'howlers'. Better to keep quiet.

As the team got deeper the jungle became darker and more obscure. It also got very moist, and the undergrowth became scarce as the canopy of Hard Sites, in the form of the enormous tropical hardwoods, became dominant. In the gloom there was occasional movement along the forest floor, but very little sound except for a very soft sigh of the breeze passing through the leaves high above.

A they walked along what looked like an animal trail, which was in reality a well-used data path, the signs of 'active' animal life became more obvious. These 'animals' were other users, typically using automated dumb programs searching for data. Almost all were harmless and were left alone. Some of these Searchers were malicious, however, and were just out to destroy: tapeworms or veta viruses. It was sometimes hard to tell these small moving Searcher forms apart. The team subvocalized small pikes and killed any that got too close. The killed Searcher undoubtedly will have irritated users in Reality as their thread became 'lost', but they wouldn't realize that their search programs had been purposely killed. Still, if the malign programs got to one of the team they could be incapacitated or killed. So, all Searchers that got too close for comfort would die.

The team continued in silence. They had only general orders to raid, so the target was not important, only success. This was the easiest kind of Operation, and it was the least dangerous. But, all Operations were fraught with peril and success was far from guaranteed.

After several virtual hours the high-canopy jungle of Hard Sites gave way again to the low and thick vegetation of a Barrier. Instead of hacking through this time three members of the team, Rider, Geo and Sy, got on hands and knees and cautiously and slowly inched their way through the Barrier. They wanted to see what was on the other side instead of bludgeoning their way through. Being surprised so deep in enemy territory was likely to be terminal.

Rider turned to his subteam and hand signaled for them to stay where they were. Carefully, Rider pushed aside the last large broadleaf fronds and looked into a clearing. The sunlight was once again bright, offering no shadows to hide in. An open field extended for several hundred meters in each direction, and in the approximate middle of the field stood a heavy stone temple: the Great Clustering Data Repository. It was composed of light grey coral limestone and had a definite pyramid motif. Stairs in the front steeply rose to a ceremonial platform standing about 25 meters above the courtyard floor. Five richly carved stone obelisks rose in the courtyard. Interspersed among the obelisks were five stationary Sentries.

The tips of other temples rose above the jungle canopy in the distance. This was, however, the biggest temple and would be the target of opportunity.

Rider carefully backed his way into the foliage, and then turned to address his assembled team.

"We have the Data Repository in the clearing. There are at least five Sentries, probably of a trip wire variety, knowing Yang. We'll incapacitate them. Then we Shadow across the compound. Geo, be prepared to Demo. Sy, be prepared to Download. Edilvia get your capacitors ready. Vera and Milislav will be defense. Sy and Harlin will be offense, silent at first and anything on the way out. Vicrant and Laur will prepare the Portal."

The team broke into action. Sy and Harlin subvocalized a blowgun into existence, crept forward to the edge of the Barrier, and sighted the Sentries. Each inhaled sharply, and rapidly discharged into the blowgun in quick succession. The sentries went down within a minute. In the meantime the rest of the team went into Shadow mode, and their outlines shimmered and lost definition and finally they became almost transparent.

The group brushed through the Barrier and sprinted across the field. As Rider approached the monoliths he noticed they were all depictions of Yang as the Gods of War, Pestilence, Disease, Death, and Deceit. Rider smiled at the sense of humor of the algorithm formula programmers. The ground was open, and the sentries remained motionless on the ground - their programs were either in terminal loops or were slowed by 'garbage' data. If they were killed they would derez, and an alarm would sound. So far there wasn't an alarm: at least, not an alarm that the team could detect.

Sy stationed himself at the base of the stairway as the team bounded up. Harlin took point. As they passed the area around them shimmered as part of the Shadow effect, as if they were a mirage or a ghost. Sy followed. In short order everyone was at the ceremonial platform. Arrayed at the top was a series of doorways framed with massive cut rectangles of limestone. Ten portals lead into the darkness of the interior.

Rider motioned for the team to enter the first dark corridor. First Harlin, then the rest of the team, plunged into the dark.

*****

"Is he OK?" Rider asked, looking at Harlin's prone form. A sliding floor, which was actually a false data path, had taken Harlin by surprise and he had become impaled on a series of poisoned meter long barbs at its base. The barbs were computer memes that were now disrupting Harlin's image and he was quickly entering into dataspasm. Harlin's image grabbed at Edilvia as he arched upward in pain, and a torrent of dark blood erupted from his mouth and covered his chest. His face contorted in agony, and then he relaxed. Slowly his imaged faded and disappeared.

"Complete ID destruction meme. He's gone," Edilvia commented. She stood and nodded and the team continued down to the temple core. No time to grieve. They would have plenty of time for that later at Harlin's funeral, if they survived.

Rider took lead as they continued down the corridor. Pale flickering light issued from infrequent torches, creating wavering shadows as they passed.

No one was present the in cold stone pathway, which was becoming increasingly damp. Rider was alarmed, since there should be active Sentries present. Tension rose in the team.

A faint chittering whispered around the remaining eight interlopers. The whites of Laur's eyes shone out against her ebony skin. Her eyes became wider as she recognized the chittering sounds.

"Trip Wire Defense! Burrowers! Defensive!" she shouted.

The team formed an informal circle as the chittering became louder, then overpowering.

A mass of thousands of beetles, each 10 centimeters long with iridescent carapaces and razor sharp mandibles, erupted from the walls and swarmed toward the team from all directions. Burrowers are a much feared semi-autonomous defensive programs that borrows into the virtual forms of attackers and destroys their code. It is one of the primary tools of Programmers against Hackers, and the program evolves and mutates to combat Hacker tools. In short, the program learns, which makes a set offense a very dangerous thing.

Sy and Vera subvocalized an Insecticide destructor program and used the acrid fumes to wash over the advancing horde. Vicrant and Laur chose a brute force Flame to destabilize the Burrower elements, and a flamethrower appeared in their hands. They sprayed the incendiary fluid in a wide arc in front of them. The rest of the group chose Kinetics, which killed individual elements. This method was tried and always effective, but there were thousands of Burrowers.

Sy stated in panic, "Insecticide not effective! No joy! Switching to Flame." His fumes did little more than slow the advancing horde, and subvocalizing took time. Time they did not have.

The Flames were having more luck, as over 70% of the Burrower Beetles were crisped and cooked where they stood, their code flayed and fragmented. Those that remained were partially incapacitated, but still advanced. The survivors were now immune from additional Flaming, so Vicrant and Laur formed Kinetics to kill the slowed beetles. Long spear-tipped poles appeared in the hands. The crunching of pierced and crushed carapaces filled the hall and the Kinetics took their toll on the now much reduced horde.

Vera screamed as two beetles broke through her defenses and started to tear at her left leg. In seconds the ravenous Burrowers had consumed much of her foot. Sy broke off and speared the Burrowers, but the damage was done. Blood, which was Vera's unraveling code, poured from her ghastly wound. She sank to the ground as was slipping into Virtual Shock.

Rider grabbed Vera's sinking form and dragged her into the center of the circle, trusting his teammates to kill the remaining beetles. She was in bad shape, and extreme methods were needed. Steeling himself, he used his right hand and ripped part of his left arm off and slapped it into Vera's gaping wound. Rider's image wavered as part of his severed code adjusted and reformulated itself, and his left arm now dangled uselessly at his side. Rider's virtual image had been compromised, but his severed code would act as a temporary patch to stop Vera code hemorrhage. His patch held, and the Vera's hemorrhage stopped.

"Vera?" Rider asked. She looked at him with a knowing calm. "You are badly wounded, and we can't Portal you back. Not here. Give me your backup ID packet, just in case."

Vera nodded, and seemed to reach into her head near her left ear. Her fingers emerged with a small black ball, which she gave to Rider. Rider took the ball and morphed it into his torso.

Vera stood weakly, but steadily. She was a two-decade veteran of the Morgan Ops Corps and knew what to expect. This wasn't the first time this had happened, and hopefully it wouldn't be the last.

*****

The Ops Team reached a large chamber at the center of the temple. In the hellish light of the blazing fire in the center of the chamber five alters could be seen, one to each of the Evil Yang Gods: War, Pestilence, Disease, Death, and Deceit. On each alter shining golden chalices and figurines were displayed. This was obviously the Datacenter of the Hive City of Great Clustering. Without study, which would take precious time, they could not know what the Gods represented in their virtual world, and they wouldn't be able to divine what the glittering object represented.

"Sy, this is the time of truth. Pick one of the objects, and pick it fast. We have to get out of here," Rider ordered.

Sy nodded and sprang into action. As he ran toward the unearthly alters he made his choice: Yang the God of Death. He approached the alter and grabbed a golden representation of Yang the Fanged God. Holding his heavy trophy, he held it to his chest and closed his eyes. With great effort he forced the statuette into his torso. Waves of intense pleasure and pain washed across his face as the enormous torrent of data cascaded into his memory buffer. In seconds it was done.

A deep rumble started, and the Ops Team looked around. A swirl of black formed over the fire pit, and Yang the God of Death coalesced from the black ribbons of smoke.

"HOW DARE YOU VIOLATE MY HOLY TEMPLE! PREPARE FOR DEATH AT THE HANDS OF YANG THE ALMIGHTY!" the God's voice boomed through the room. Ugly swirls of electricity began to form within the broiling cloud, forming critical mass.

Rider uttered one word: "SCAT!" With that, the team made a b-line for the entrance.

Before they could get there a huge stone Block fell from the ceiling of the entrance hallway, sealing them in.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA" Yangs voice boomed, mocking and cold through the chamber.

"Miloslav! PiercerMax! Stat!" Rider yelled through the echoes of Yangs cruel laugh.

Continuing to run, Miloslav subvocalized and a bazooka-like weapon appeared. He paused and aimed at the stone blocking their exit and fired. A coursing wave of energy, crackling with intensity, leapt toward its target. It impacted, but did not explode. Instead it ate away at the stone Block, with miniature explosions going off as code that held the structure of Yang's Data Repository was raped and subsumed by the Piercer Meme. Black showed through as the entire electronic edifice was shorn. The infection destroyed the Block, and then spread to the walls, which also started to destabilize.

Yang's voice stopped its maniacal laugh as the Great Clustering Data Repository rushed resources to the widening breach. Slowly the tattered edges started to reform and the Piercer Meme was fought to a standstill.

"THROUGH! NOW!" Rider yelled, still running at full tilt. There was extreme danger, in that a Piercer Meme would destroy any code it could, including that of the Ops Team. They, however, did not have the resources to fight back like the Data Repository did. If the Meme infected them they would die - permanent derez.

The Ops Team rushed through the maelstrom. Last through was Vera, who was weakened and slow from the trauma inflicted on her by the Burrowers. Passing the portal she was a little too slow and the blackness caught her injured left foot. Transfixed, the Meme tore at her code and she watched her companions depart.

With her last strength, she turned toward the Data Repository Chamber and subvocalized another Piercer Meme and fired it at the image of Yang. The program leapt and impacted. She had the satisfaction of watching a second infection start, spreading over the far wall of the chamber before the crackling destruction of the Meme froze her form. The world seemed to be a blaze with light, then fade.

Blackness.

*****

"We have to get out of the Null Area of the Data Repository! Through the Barrier," Rider yelled to his six companions as he emerged atop the Temple of Yang into the sunlight. In the Temple Courtyard was now a throng of at least 50 Sentries moving slowly toward the Ops team. They were slow, but if they grabbed hold they could not be dislodged. They would paralyze through strength of numbers. It was the Repositories last defense, unless some Mobiles were following. Rider fervently hoped there were no Mobiles. They were not stupid programs, but were Virtuals like the Ops team and controlled by humans. And they were deadly.

Without orders, everyone but Sy subvocalized weapons as they started down the steep temple stairs. Sy worked his way to the center of the group, and knew that he would be defended at all costs: he held the stolen data.

Area of effect Destructor charges exploded around the Sentries, derezing them or causing code collapse and paralysis. Impact weapons enveloped and frayed the coding of the lead Sentries causing them to freeze, and impede the progress of those behind. Within minutes almost all the advancing sentries were neutralized, which wasn't surprising. Sentries were the most base of defensive programs, and typically not a threat to Ops professionals.

One after another, the Sentries halted, lost resolution and vanished. The team quickly made their way through, ignoring and evading the few remaining Sentries as they were pursued. At the edge of the courtyard they crashed through the vegetative Barrier.

Rider looked back. Pouring out of the Temple Data Repository were at least 15 Mobiles. Their time was up. Humans ran Mobiles, and they were just as or more deadly than they were.

"Vicrant and Laur, Invoke the Portal."

Both stopped and dropped their weapons. Each stood still and gripped the others hands. Closing their eyes as the Portal was Invokedl.

A dark void appeared, tearing at the Static Site trees and creating a vortex. Sy jumped first, then the rest of the team. Lastly, Vicrant and Laur jumped through, still holding hands.

A little too late the fire from the Hive Mobiles washed over the Barrier, sundering the Static Sites and ripping the Barrier itself.

The Portal vanished just as the Barrier was shredded.

*****

The still sitting forms of the Ops Team in the former Hive city of Command Nexus took a deep breath and opened their eyes. Gradually real human senses reintegrated as the Vista interface with the Net withdrew. Seven of the forms rose from their chairs. Vera's body remained motionless in her chair, breathing deeply. The ninth was slumped with a trickle of now cold blood running down from the corners of his eyes, nose, and mouth. Cerebral overload. Harlin was dead.

Each team member, Rider, Sy, Edilvia, Laur, Vicrant, Geo, and Milosav, walked over to Harlin's body and touched him reverently. Another friend lost, but he did not die in vain. Vera would recover, but would have no memory of her exploits. The team had seen her fighting to the last - a true professional, dogged and determined. They would share this memory with her, if she wished.

Everyone looked expectantly at Sy, but no one said a word.

Sy reached back to the neural node on his neck and activated the diagnostic on his internal data storage system. It allowed him to read, partially at least, the contents of his download.

After a moment the corners of his mouth crept up, then became a full-fledged smile.

"Jackpot, ladies and gentleman. CEO Morgan will be very pleased. We have just acquired the complete data and support for Bio-Engineering. A brief read of the specs shows it will allow us increased intrinsic resistant to genetic warfare and will allow us to design self supporting military and civilian units with clean reactors! There are also the complete spec for the Longevity Vaccine Special Project!"

"Well, are we heroes or what? Let's get the data into the system. Then let's figure out what other havoc we can cause!" an enthusiastic Miloslav suggested.

Nodding, Laur added, "A good party wouldn't hurt, either. I certainly have some kinks to work out."

"Fine. Be at my place at 1900. If you don't wash you can't come. Two hours in these Ops Suits has made us less than fresh," Milo finished

Some of the gloom of losing Harlin drained away. They knew he wouldn't want them to be morose and brooding. All on the team knew the risks, and the pure rush of the surf and danger. Morgan Ops team left the room, except for Rider.

He stayed behind, as was his duty until the Medic arrived. Vera was going to be fine. He brushed the long blond hair from the face of her sleeping form, his fingers caressing her cheek as he went. Impulsively, he gently placed a kiss on her forehead and held her hand.

She won't mind Rider thought to himself.

Privately he hoped the medics would come for a while.

Hydro · September 26, 1999, 00:20

Ft. Superiority

*****

Dr. Andre Zahrenov walked down the clean ceramic halls of the Ft. Superiority Fusion Lab toward his office. As usual, he was reading a report from his datapad and paying no attention whatsoever to where he was walking. Almost a fixture at the lab, other Directors, scientists, technicians and workers knew to get out of his way. He always walked in the middle of the hallway, but since there was plenty of room evasive action wasn't a problem.

Andre arrived at his office and freed a hand to slap on the wall to the right of the portal.

Nothing happened, so he slapped further up. He felt the warm tingle of the ID reader and the door opened for him.

Still not looking up he quickly paced over to his desk and sat down. Covering his desk was the bric-a-brac of his almost 30-year tenure at the fusion lab, which went all the way back to the UoP days. In one corner was a group holo of his first big project team, and in another was a stasis jar with the first mindworm ever cloned - his pet project. The mindworm hadn't lived, but it had been a good try, truly groundbreatking work and decades ahead of all the other factions. Between the personal detritus were innumerable datapad reports. As always, Andre was critically behind and almost late.

Engrossed, Andre continued to read, only occasionally making a critical or comment verbally into the text.

Then something caught his eye from the corner of his desk, partially hidden under a datapad. Andre stopped reading and groaned softly.

It was an 'obsolete' data crystal, used in the low-end market for data storage.

But this wasn't a typical data crystal. This type data crystal had been state-of-the-art in the UoP days 25 and more years ago, and its designers had encoded an in-built encryption scheme into its crystalline matrix that was not commonly known, and certainly not known by the Spartans. As a result former UoP personnel used it for transmitting hardcopies of secure messages under the sometimes watchful eyes of their Spartan overseers.

The personnel that used it the most for this purpose were the former UoPers of the UoP resistance. Whenever Andre got one of these it usually meant trouble.

Andre sat for a moment.

Do I really want to activate the crystal? Hidden behind some banal greeting was undoubtedly some 'important' communiqué. Over the last 25 years I have occasionally gotten these crystals. Most of the time they are merely 'keep on the fight' pep talks or calls to action. Sometimes they are solicitations for poorly guarded targets in the ongoing, if infrequent, terrorist campaign by the extreme and dangerous end of the UoP resistance. More moderate or accommodating members of a more informal branch of the UoP resistance just like to reminisce about the 'good old days' before the 'nasty Spartans'. These are harmless. The 'calls to action' and pep talks are almost as harmless. It's the radical element that worries me.

Just like in every case, curiosity overcame caution. Andre picked up the crystal and slipped into his old datapad. A holo of an old friend and colleague in town appeared and he started babbling about his family. Andre initiated a subharmonic into the crystal from his datapad. Subimposed in the matrix was a second message from someone named Kali.

Andre's face blanched as he read the message, and he seemed to sag.

"No, oh no," he whimpered pathetically. "Not that, not here."

Even before he finished there was a phthist and the crystal fused solid.

Andre stared into space. He seemed to have aged ten years in a second.

Paula Forbes · September 26, 1999, 01:49

I looked out of the window of the MorganNews Corporate needlejet as it swung round on its approach to Sparta Command.

This was the grandest of the original Spartan bases, but paled in comparison to Parade Ground, Ironholm or Fort Superiority.

We had landed to refuel at the new Gaian base of Garden of Paradise and again at Ironholm but at Santiago's urging we resumed our flight with minimal downtime. The Colonel had kept pretty much to herself during the flight, just gazing out of the window at the scenery unfolding below, and I had been hesitant to interrupt her reverie guessing that she was weighted down with affairs of state.

As the plane rolled on to the taxiway, I saw the reception committee lined up at the customs and immigration building to which we taxied. There was an honor guard and a handful of dignitaries, but as far as I could make out, no generals waiting to welcome her.

Santiago descended first, ahead of me and my holocam crew, and was welcomed by Alfredo, the longtime Base Administrator of Sparta Command. I watched her as she shook hands with the various officials and then get ushered into a waiting limorover.

"Ok, Guys. Time to hit the road and get this tape to our studios," I said.

We descended from the plane.

The first thing I found odd was that the honor guard was still there, ands that they now had their shredders at the ready.

An officer walked up to me.

"You are Paula Forbes?" he asked.

"Yes," I said irritably. "If you don't mind I have work to do, so can we get cleared quickly through C & I?"

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," he replied.

"Why on earth not," I asked. "I've never had trouble with Customs and Immigration before."

"I'm afraid that you are under arrest, Ms. Forbes."

"Arrest?" I said. "Whatever for?"

"For the murder of Acting Federation Governor Marlo Hollis."

I felt the color draining from my face. Marlo dead? Murdered? And they suspect me?

"But that's ridiculous," I said. I've been out of the Federation Territory for over three weeks and just spoke to Marlo yesterday. I've just been in the air for 17 hours from Velvetgrass Point."

"We don't know how you did it, Ms. Morgan, but we have vidtape from the security cameras that show the whole assassination. How and where you boarded this plane I've no idea, but you've had since around 7 last evening when you killed the Acting Governor until now to rendezvous with the plane."

"This is preposterous," I spluttered. "CEO Morgan himself will vouch for me."

"Ms. Forbes, you don't understand. Certain Junta members suspect CEO Morgan himself is behind this assassination. They are briefing the Colonel even as we speak as to whether Sparta should declare vendetta against the Morganites for this heinous action."

I had no answer to that. I had no idea what was going on. I turned to Peter who was taking this all in, slack-jawed.

"Peter, make sure the broadcast gets out, then find Googlie as soon as he's out of the tanks. He'll know what to do."

He nodded as I was led away under armed escort.

Hydro · September 26, 1999, 02:49

Morgan Industries

*****

Morgan Senior stared at his datapad in disbelief.

Acting Spartan Federation Governor Marlo Hollis is dead?!! And apparently assassinated. And the obvious person with motive and possible means is one CEO Nwabudike Morgan, Senior.

Is it possible that the Spartans, in their rage, will blame we Morganites? If it is an assassination, what could we possibly gain? The murder was ham-handed at best, with obvious possible ties to us. This is exactly the opposite of how a proper assassination is executed. This situation fairly smells of a Hive setup.

This is a disaster. Another disaster. Events are spiraling even further out of control, dragging down we Morganites and even the Spartans, and the only beneficiary is that accursed Chairman Yang! No, that is not true. Another potential beneficiary of the chaos is the reckless UoP Resistance that we Morganites have been tacitly harboring all these years.

The chaos has got to stop.

Morgan turned from his datapad and activated his secure internal comm channel.

"Paul Andreus, this is Newby. I am sure you have heard by this time about the apparent assassination of Spartan Federation Acting Governor Marlo Hollis. The report just came across my desk on a secure channel. I have not yet heard anything on MorganNews, but I do not think this situation will stay contained for much longer. I want you to find out who has killed Ms. Hollis, and I want to find out NOW. Report to me within the six hours. Secondly, I want you to ascertain whether the UoP Resistance is in any way involved. If they are, then they are a direct threat to Morgan interests and are to be eliminated. I do not care to know the details."

Morgan cut the channel.

It is time to ponder other options.

Slats · September 26, 1999, 18:03

SPARTA COMMAND AEROSPACE COMPLEX
SPARTAN SPACE DEFENSE HQ

But Nichola held her hand off the alarm button. Something just didn't add up. The readings concerning the missiles velocity were all wrong. The weapon was moving much faster than it should have been. But how??? Something at the back of her mind prevented her from triggering the alarm which would send warnings screaming throughout the base, most likely putting half of Sparta Command on alert. Nichola began checking the telemetry from the various tracking sites. Her discovery seemed correct. The missile was nearly 20 metres in length. Such a size would be needed to boost, let's see......... 6 tons of mass into orbit on a longe range ballistic arc. Yet the speed of the missile was marginally faster than the computer's estimate said it should have been. Nichola turned her attention back to the main screen. She was betting that........

Crypto: 57
SSDHQCOMUPLINK:PORT4:SECURE
Via: Transceiver Node 9 at Fort Superiority > Astrometric array 01
Subject: Bogey 001 ( probable ICBM vehicle )

EVENT: SECOND STAGE SEPERATION OF Bogey 001 MISSILE BOOSTER
...
...
...
...
EVENT: WARHEAD SEPERATION > prepare array 02 + 03 for MIRV deployment tracking in 3 seconds
2
1
0
ERROR!

EVENT: NO SEPERATION OF MIRV COMPONENTS

QUERY: NO MIRV SEPERATION, SINGULAR WARHEAD?!?

EVENT : DESCENT OF Bogey 001 ( probable ICBM singular warhead ) DETECTED

IMPACT COUNTER BEGUN : ETA to target ( MORGTRANS ) 500 seconds
...
...
...
...
...
IMPACT COUNTER : ETA to target ( MORGTRANS ) 30 seconds
...
...
IMPACT COUNTER : ETA to target ( MORGTRANS ) 10 seconds
9
8
7
6 < flight profile anomaly detected : add to log : ?design flaw? >
5
4
3
2
1
0
IMPACT
...
...
...
EVENT: NO DETONATION OF WARHEAD COMPONENT > !background radiation count normal!

END TRACK? Y/N

Nichola sat back and sighed heavily. Her gamble had payed off. She'd been right. The missile had no warhead, this most likely a training shot. The added velocity had tipped her off. A loaded missile would have not have gone as fast due to it's heavy payload. A camera flyover of the satellite SKYBLAZER 1 showed only a small crater to mark the landing of the shot. It was nearly exactly in the middle of the Morgan Transport weapons test range. This would make an interesting item in her morning report.
[This message has been edited by Slats (edited September 26, 1999).]

Googlie · September 26, 1999, 20:30

"Alfredo - I need an experienced aide, with Ayola's defection. Will you serve me?"

Alfredo paused before he replied. He had a super position as Base Administrator of Sparta's capital, and to give this up to throw in his lot on a personal basis with Santiago, with the support of the Generals somewhat questionable, would be classified as foolish. But this close to the Junta leader would put him in a position to influence policy.

"I'll do it. It'll take me a week or so to hand over the administration to a successor, but after that I'll give you 100 percent."

"Alfredo, I need you now," said Santiago. "Although I've been following events from afar I need the advice of someone who has been here and experienced everything. So if you accept, you will need to start immediately."

His hesitation was miniscule.

"OK, I accept."

"Good," she said. "Now to business.

"The major issues are, not necessarily in this order:

Ø finding out who is responsible for Marlo Hollis' death. It certainly wasn't Paula Forbes, and I have ordered her immediate release - I was with her constantly for the 36 hours before we landed, and can vouch for her innocence;

Ø getting the Junta together and making some longer term decisions. The cessation of hostilities with Yang; promoting Deirdre's cause; recalling the Planetary Council. I want you to set up a meeting - holo would be my preference, in the next 9 hours to discuss this;

Ø repealing the police state as soon as possible and getting back to democracy;

Ø deal with the budding Yoop resistance;

Ø set a production schedule for the bases as we revert to a builder status.

"And did Marlo leave any instructions - on commlink or in writing?"

Alfredo looked at her queerly.

"Instructions?"

"You know," she said. "What her plans were. What to do with Allardyce and Burge?"

"No. Not that the investigators found."

"OK, pity. Contact Burge and have him report to me. Is he still at Fort Soup?"

"No, Colonel. He's in Sparta Command. I'll contact him and ask him to report," he said and left the office.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ +++++++++++

He went back to his small office adjacent to the SAC guest office that Googlie and subsequently Marlo had been using while the Command center was getting refitted.

Picking up his commlink, he dialed a well-used number.

"Betty Sterling here."

"Betty, Alfredo Ramirez."

"Alfredo - how goes it. Good to have the Colonel back, eh?"

"That's just it, Betty. There's something very odd happening."

"What do you mean, odd?"

"Well, she is the Colonel, and yet she isn't, if you know what I mean?"

"Haven't the foggiest. Why don't you start at the beginning?"

"Well, first of all, she's asked me to be her aide, to replace Ayola. She hardly knows who I am. And another thing - she's very unsure of herself - very tentative. And tentative is something Corazon Santiago is not."

"Go on."

"And she seems totally unsure of what to do - even asked me if Marlo had left any instructions. Instructions.. Why would Marlo instruct the Colonel to do anything.

"And another thing - she referred to the Fort Superiority as Fort Soup - you know how she's such a stickler at calling the bases by their full names."

"So what do you make of it, Alfredo?"

"Well I think she's under some sort of thought control - maybe Gaian, as she has spent so much time recently there. She hasn't explained to any one how she was captured or how she escaped. I'm just afraid of what to advise her, as maybe just she'll accept my recommendations blindly. As an old friend, what would you do?"

"I'd meet with Burge as soon as possible, and accelerate Allardyce's rejuvenation as much as possible without harming him. They're the key. And the polls have been consistently up since they replaced the Colonel after she disappeared."

"Good advice," said Alfredo. "She's asked me to set up a meeting with Burge ASAP, so I'll brief him in advance. Thanks for listening."

"You're welcome, Alfredo. And good luck."

He flicked off his commlink, and sat pondering for a moment.

Then he went to find Burge.

Googlie · September 26, 1999, 21:11

Octavio found Burge at the officers club, sitting with an aide going over some materiel problems.

"Field Marshall," he said. "Pardon me for interrupting, but the Colonel wants to meet with you."

Burge/Ashaandi looked up, somewhat irritated.

"The Colonel?" he asked. "Which Colonel?"

Octavio looked at him queerly.

"Why Colonel Santiago, of course."

"Ah, of course. Let's not keep the lady waiting, then."

He stood up and they left for the SAC building.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ +++++++++

Santiago opened her office door herself, and the two men entered.

"Gavin," she said, extending her hand. "You are looking well."

"And you too, Corazon," he said, looking her over appraisingly as he shook her hand.

He turned to Octavio:

"Leave us for a while," he said.

"Sir," Octavio replied, and closed the office door behind him as he left.

He turned to Santiago.

"You are not Corazon Santiago," he said. "Just who are you?"

He extended a soft interrogative tendril into her mind, but was met with a stiff wall of resistance, then experienced a faint flutter of a mindscan himself, and hastily erected a barrier of his own.

"And you are not Gavin Burge," she replied. "I could ask the same question."

"Why do you say that?" he asked her.

"You are an empath. Burge is not. It's that simple. And as you have adopted Burge's persona, you must have the Chameleon talent. A Chameleon Empath. I know of only one other, by legend. Ashaandi."

"Well deduced," said Ashaandi. "Now it is my turn.

"There is only one other chameleon empath, as you have correctly stated, in addition to me. And you are she. You are the ex-University chameleon, Alexis Shtelnikov. Playing the part of Santiago - why?"

"I'm being paid for it," she said simply. "But you have a deeper motive. What have you done with Burge, and why?"

"I have my own reasons, which you needn't know. Suffice it to say that I intend to supplant Chairman Yang, and the odds of achieving that with Spartan forces, rather than through my adherents, were infinitely superior."

"So why did you have Marlo Hollis killed?" asked Alexis.

"I didn't. And neither did Morgan for that matter. Nor Yang - he has nothing to lose by her going. I am not sure, but I suspect either units of the Yoop resistance, or else some dissatisfied Junta member that wanted the Morgan/Sparta friendship to be broken.

"But to business. How much are you being paid?"

"Ten credits for past performances, and 15 for this engagement."

"I'll double that, if we work together."

"And if I refuse, and unmask you?"

"You will die in the attempt, and it will be futile. You know of my reputation. I can destroy you psionically however strong an empath you are. And I would not hesitate to do so."

"Then we have a deal," Alexis said sweetly. "What do you want me to do?"

Ashaandi told her.

Googlie · September 26, 1999, 22:47

Paula had set up the studio to her satisfaction. There were two camera crews - the local one at Sparta Command and the one that she had brought back with her from Velvetgrass Point headed by Peter.

She was relieved to have been released, and removed from suspicion, but saddened at the loss of her dear friend. But business was business. The Colonel had requested a live broadcast planet wide, and she was obliging.

Santiago came in with Burge and Octavio Ramirez, her aide.

Paula led them through the make up phase, and arranged them behind the desk, Santiago and Burge seated, and Ramirez standing in the background to one side.

She turned to Peter.

"Roll it," she said.

The 3D cameras sprang to life, and Colonel Santiago made the announcement.

================================================== ===============

Citizens of The Spartan Federation, The Human Hive and Morgan Industries. Earlier this evening I sent the following communique to my military commanders. I read:

Prepare for the immediate resumption of hostilities against the forces of The Human Hive. I have issued an ultimatum to Chairman Yang, and if he does not comply then we will do everything in our power, together with our allies in Morgan Industries, to remove him from power and subjugate his people

The ultimatum I sent to Chairman Sheng-Ji Yang is as follows:

By 9.00 midnight tonight you will have withdrawn your forces from all four bases that have declared for Morgan; you will have evacuated your forces from the old Believer bases of The Leaders Horde and Great Clustering, and will have ceded them to The Spartan Federation; you will have ceased all work on building further PlanetBuster missiles and you will submit to regular inspection by Peacekeeping forces provided by Commissioner Pravin Lal; You will remove your forces from the landmass north of the area known as The Pholus Ridge and will have transferred 1,000 credits to Lady Deirdre Skye as reparations for the damages caused to her and her people by The Human Hive.

My reasons for this message are simple.

The Human Hive must not be permitted to become the leading military and industrial power on Planet. We shall therefore stop it before it so becomes. The actions we take are eminently justified. In particular, the list of Chairman Yang's transgressions against the Spartan Federation is long:

> ten years ago his agents introduced a virus into the longevity treatment of senior Spartan military leaders which has only now come to light;

> he recently attempted the assassination of myself and my Junta through the kamikazi death of a Hive operative carrying a tactical nuclear device;

> he was behind my abduction by the UoP resistance whom he is actively fiancing and from whom I escaped;

> he has threatened the Spartan Federation with a nuclear planetbuster missile;

> and only this afternoon we uncovered the signature of Hive agents firmly behind the assassination of our acting Federation Governor, Marlo Hollis, with their pathetic attempt to frame Morgan operatives.

In short, this megalomania must be stopped. We are today in a position to do so, with our Morgan allies. And we will do so.

I now give you Field Marshall Burge.

Burge looked into the cameras.

Spartan Commanders.

I am not sanguine about Chairman Yang accepting these terms. If he knows what is good for him, he will. But if he does not, then your Junta leadership has determined that this is the time to project our power to force him to comply with our demands.

I ask you to be ready and vigilant. Be alert for a surprise attack. I am commlinking orders to all our units with mobilization plans in the event of his non-compliance.

Our will shall be done.

================================================== =============

They were back at Santiago's offices.

"Do you think he will comply?" she asked.

"Not a chance," he said. "He'll find them too humiliating."

"What'll he do?"

"Pre-emptive attack, probably. On the new Morgan-turned bases. Maybe invade Morgan Industries itself. He'll certainly try again for Plex Anthill."

"How much can Morgan help?" she asked.

"Not a lot. You should ask him for cash - go for 500 or 1000 credits. We are bailing him out big time."

"To say nothing of getting you your little empire," she said.

Ashaandi smiled.

korn469 · September 26, 1999, 23:15

Fort Superiorty

Andre sat for a moment.

Do I really want to activate the crystal? Hidden behind some banal greeting was undoubtedly some 'important' communiqué. Over the last 25 years, he had occasionally received these crystals. Most of the time they were merely 'keep on the fight' pep talks or calls to action. Sometimes they were solicitations for poorly guarded targets in the ongoing, if infrequent, terrorist campaign by the extreme and dangerous end of the UoP resistance. More moderate or accommodating members of a more informal branch of the UoP resistance just like to reminisce about the 'good old days' before the 'nasty Spartans'. These are harmless. The 'calls to action' and pep talks are almost as harmless.

Just like in every case, curiosity overcame caution. Andre picked up the crystal and slipped into his old datapad. A holo of an old friend and colleague in town appeared and he started babbling about his family. Andre initiated a subharmonic into the crystal from his datapad. Subimposed in the matrix was a second message...

A holo of a young girl, who was probably in her early twenties at best, appeared. The girl was painfully slender, almost to the point of malnourished and her skin was very pale. Andre wondered when the last time this girl had eaten or been in the sun. She had long pale blonde hair fixed in braids, and she had white pupils, most likely surgically alter he thought. On the her left temple was what looked like a small bright blood red tattoo, but Zahrenov instantly recognized as an experimental UoP dry wire system.

"Dr. Zahrenov, my name is Kali and I'll make this very brief. I am a representative of the URF and I am a loyal citizen of the University of Planet, as you are. The URF has committed acts of terrorism in the past against our Spartan oppressors, but we have never harmed any citizens of the UoP. You know this is true Doctor, and I must now ask for your trust. You knew my Uncle Doctor Zahrenov, his name was Konstantin Sergeyev, and from what I have been told he was a close associate of yours."

The image of Kali faded away...it was replaced with an image of a group of workers in pressurized full body NCB (nuclear/chemical/biological) suits. The suits were white with pale blue insignias on their shoulders. The workers were moving small smoke colored cubes. Each cube was about half a meter square, the cubes were a crystallized aerosol, know as solid smoke.

The UoP had developed solid smoke; it was a transportable easily concealed delivery system for nanocytes that kept the nanocytes dormant until properly activated. The original purpose of solid smoke was medical in nature, coupled with advances in biomachinery, nanocytes could make the dream of clinical immortality a reality. However, desperate the team that created solid smoke reprogrammed it into a weapon of mass destruction, and although it was never battle tested; against an unprepared target, it would cause mass casualties. Each half-meter cube of solid smoke could achieve a maximum kill efficiency of one million humans before the nanocytes stopped functioning. The appeal of nanocytes was they would kill only humans, completely disposing of the body in the process. It would cause virtually no collateral damage, and this made it a more attractive option than using chemical weapons or a neutron bomb. Though the nanocytes could kill a maximum of one million they could be programmed to attack a specific target, inflicting a specified number of casualties over an exact area and time. Once the attack time parameters expired the nanocytes would self-destruct leaving no trace of what caused the attack. Though this weapon was still in the experimental stages, it had one live field test and it performed flawlessly.

A sense of pride overcame Andre for a moment. Those pressurized NCB suits would protect a person from chemical or biological weapons even if the integrity of the suit was compromised. However, in the advent of a solid smoke attack those suits wouldn't offer any protection. They designed the nanocytes to defeat all know defenses against a chemical or biological attack. Yet, at the same time, it was impossible to accidentally activate solid smoke, and while dormant the nanocytes posed no risk whatsoever.

Dr. Zahrenov counted ten blocks of solid smoke. Andre personally knew that the UoP had produced less than twenty blocks of solid smoke and those ten blocks were the last ten. Near the end of the war, all nanorobots disappeared, and the UoP had destroyed all of its files on nanorobots. Now somehow it looked like solid smoke was in U.N. hands. If unleashed the U.N. could kill ten cities with complete deniability. Why was she showing him this? The U.N. workers faded back into the image of Kali.

"Andre, listen to me, 48 hours from now a U.N. probe team is going to unleash pathogenic nanorobots, code named Solid Smoke. It will appear that the URF or some element of the UoP resistance is behind this. They will link this to the assassination of Marlo Hollis, which we didn't do either. A disaster of this size will weaken the Spartan Federation and may precipitate a civil war amongst the members of the Junta. Out of this general chaos, the U.N. will emerge as a world power. You can do whatever you want with this information Doctor. However in 48 hours every citizen of University Base will die by a creation that you oversaw the development of."

The image abruptly flickered out and Zahrenov was left visibly shaken. Yes many years ago Dr. Zahrenov had been the Chair of the UoP Nanorobotics Research Grant, but it was Konstantin Sergeyev who was real force behind the development of the nanorobots. Yes Konstantin was the genius, the child protege that had grown up to be foremost authority on nanorobots. What an easy program that was to oversee, he gave Konstantin the budget he asked for, which was always outrageous, and Konstantin always produced the results he promised. Yes in less than twenty years, Konstantin transformed his theory of microscopic robotic agents into reality. It was a shame that Konstantin and his entire staff had turned the nanocytes they developed on themselves. What was even more of a shame was that before he died, Konstantin destroyed all the many years of his research. Andre's memories of the last days of the UoP faded into the present.

"No, oh no," he whimpered pathetically. "Not that, not here."

Even before he finished there was a phthist and the crystal fused solid.

Andre stared into space. He seemed to have aged ten years in a second.
[This message has been edited by korn469 (edited October 01, 1999).]

Hydro · September 28, 1999, 01:26

Morgan Industries

*****

Morgan Senior walked into his Presidential Advisor Chamber, and was obviously in a foul mood. His facial features were frozen into a slight frown and his eyes were narrowed almost to slits. As usual, he was immaculately dressed but his accustomed attention to detail was missing: his cuff links were not the same shade of blue as his suit; his shoes actually had skuffs on them; and, inexplicably, he had worn his Council suit, not his Advisor suit, to the meeting. As he approached it was clear he had not been sleeping well. There were almost noticeable bags under his eyes, which was something that the CEO never normally allowed.

His advisory staff was immediately on guard. It would be a stormy meeting.

Without preamble Morgan quickly walked around the Advisor Table at a pace that was less than seemly, pulled is ornate highback chair, and seated himself. Accessing the datapad in front of him, he took a moment to review the agenda, and his frown deepened.

"I am too busy today to discuss trifles such as food surplus effects on markets, petulant complaints from City Managers, nominations for the yearly Morgan Artist of Chiron, and engineering woes," Morgan said dismissively to his Infrastructure, Arts and Entertainment, and Agricultural advisors Daniel Baah, Alan Walsh, and Colleen Wanders. "I require a concise review from Financial, Science, Foreign Relations, and Military Advisors. Minister Zhang, what is the our financial situation."

Bin Zhang inclined his head in deference to the CEO and began, "We still run a significant positive energy balance, but this has been reduced after the termination of our Pact with the Hive. Trade revenues from Peacekeeper sources are up significantly after the initiation of our trade agreement. If we can gain a formal trade relationship with the Spartans and Gaians we will more than make up for our commerce loss from the Hive. Energy from our new bases Plex Anthill, Communal Nexus, Hole of Aspiration, Workers Nest, and Paradise Swarming will make up for the loss of Morgan Processing. At this point, even after recent significant expenditures, we have a positive balance of 1623 energy."

"That agrees with my tally," Morgan commented. "Minister Cai, Science."

Following tradition, Raymond Cai inclined his head toward Morgan. "Our research rate has doubled due to increased energy budget allocations and the recently-enacted shift in social priorities toward learning. I am pleased to report that the Spartans, true to their word, have transmitted their data and schematics for Fusion Power and Chaos weaponry. These data have been forwarded to our new city Command Centers, as you ordered. I am also pleased to report that our operatives have acquired the technology for Bio Engineering from Yang." Raymond smiled and was clearly excited at the opportunity to report this news.

This news brought an appreciative grunt from Morgan. "I repeatedly asked to trade or buy that technology from Yang. For years he refused. Now I have the last laugh. Minister Kalin?"

Christina Kalin hesitated, then decided to get it over with and give Morgan the bad news. "Your messages requesting direct communication have been politely refused by Lady Deirdre Skye, Pravin Lal, and the representatives of Coronal Santiago. There are reports that Santiago is back in Sparta after her unexplained lengthy absence, and that she was in the company of Paula Forbes. Interestingly, both were coming back from Gaian territory. Apparently Ms. Forbes was briefly held as the suspect in Hollis' assassination, but was released at the insistence of Santiago.

In summary, we have a formal trade treaty with Pravin Lal, a truce with the Gaians and Spartans, and are in a state of vendetta with the Hive."

Morgan pondered while Christina finished. There has been no recent change, except for the detail about Paula. She certainly does get around. I will have to contact her to ask if she might be able to arrange an audience with both Lady Skye and the Coronal.

Morgan simply nodded in acknowledgement. "General Santos?"

"We just received an inventory of the assests in our four newly acquired bases. Communal Nexus has a plasma garrison, a fission missile interceptor, the planet buster, and it had two conventional missiles…"

"Had, General?" Morgan inquired sharply.

"Yes, had. An overly zealous technician, who thought you could 'fire' a missile to its new base, accidentally fired one. It landed by Morgan Transport. Moreover, he also thought he was firing the planet buster. Luckily, the interlocks prevented him. He has been disciplined, fined, reduced in rank, and placed in a position where he will cause no more trouble.

Workers' Nest has a plasma garrison, a fission needlejet and interceptor. Hole of Aspiration has a plasma garrison and an interceptor, as does Paradise Swarming. In total, we almost tripled our air force, thanks to Yang. The needlejet is giving us drone problems at Worker's Nest, and we may have to scrap it since the base is unstable enough as it is.

Additionally, each base is surprisingly well developed. Here is a list of the improvements, by base:

· Communal Nexus (population 50K)- creche, recycling tanks, recreation commons, energy bank, tree farm, command center, perimeter defense
· Workers Nest (population 70K) - creche, recycling tanks, energy bank, tree farm, hab complex, perimeter defense
· Hole of Aspiration (population 70K) - creche, recycling tanks, energy bank, tree farm, hab complex, punishment sphere, perimeter defense
· Paradise Swarming (population 60K) - creche, recycling tanks, rec commons, energy bank, tree farm, hab complex, perimeter defense

Each of these bases, and in particular Communal Nexus, has excellent mineral production and will quickly build high-morale military units.

Within several days we will be able to retrofit the plasma garrisons with fusion armor for a nominal cost. All bases will begin building additional defensive units, perhaps with ECM and anti aircraft ability."

"You mentioned there was a punishment sphere at Hole of Aspiration. Base the needlejet there. That should ease your probl….." Morgan started.

Morgan's aid burst through the door. She had instructions only to do this in dire emergency, so all at the table quieted and looked toward the intruder.

"CEO, we have a priority transmission coming in for you. From Coronal Santiago!" she said breathlessly.

Without missing a heartbeat Morgan sprang into action. "Meeting adjourned. You are dismissed. Ms. Gautheir, patch the call into me at this location immediately."

Morgan prepared himself for a moment and Marilyn relayed the orders over her comm.

In a moment the familiar image of Coronal Corazon Santiago appeared standing to the left of the Advisor Table. She was as severely beautiful as ever, with classic sculpted nose, a high forehead and cheekbones, and her jet black hair pulled back into a thick, but efficient, pony tail. Here form was compact and had an athletic grace. Her chin was inclined slightly and her eyes partially closed, as if she were looking at you with haughty disdain.

Morgan rose, as was appropriate when a lady of such stature was present. He quickly assumed, with almost a chameleon-like ease, a friendly and earnest expression on his face, as if he were simply delighted to see Coronal Santiago. Which he was.

"Coronal Santiago! What a welcome pleasure! I am glad you could make the time to see me, for I believe we have much to discuss. Will you not sit down?" Morgan said, gesturing to the nearby heavy synthwalnut chairs.

Santiago briefly glanced at the chair and then back at Morgan. "No, I don't think that will be necessary. In my present form 'sitting' would not do me much good, now would it? Still, sit if you wish. I am here on business and having my counterpart sitting or standing makes no difference to me. The only thing that matters is that we can come to an amiable meeting of minds."

Morgan picked up the subtle humor and friendly invitation and consciously formed a small grin, "No, I guess it would not. But, yes, to business. First, let me express my sympathy for the tragic loss of Ms. Hollis. I, myself, only found out about it several hours ago and can only pray that the guilty party is brought to justice."

Santiago graced Morgan with a cold smile. "That has already been ascertained: it was a rather pathetic plot on the part of Yang to frame you, CEO Morgan. I had expected more from Yang's assassins than this amateurish attempt. So, you see, Yang has failed doubly. Not only did I not blame you, but instead I am here talking to you. I believe we have common interests. After almost 15 years I am willing to enter into a formal trade agreement with the Morganites."

Morgan's calculated smile vanished, and was replaced by a genuine smile. "I gladly accept! Moreover, I believe that our peoples would profit greatly if we combined forces. I would like to propose a Pact, to seal this newfound convergence of wills and goals."

Santiago's image paused for a moment, and Morgan waited expectantly.

"Agreed."

"Excellent! Then I greet you as Pact Sister! However, let me suggest that both of our peoples are in grave peril from the machinations of Yang. His unprovoked attack on you, and his villainy in his assassination attempts, prove his megalomania, and that he is a threat to all on Chiron. I ask you to pronounce Vendetta on the Hive!"

Santiago paused again. "It is not that easy, CEO Morgan. I have given my word to effect a truce with the Hive. Breaking one's word is a very serious concern."

Morgan deflated somewhat. He decided to play his last card. He had to get the Spartan to declare against the Hive.

"I understand, Coronal. But consider what is at stake: with Yang's growth, within five years he will become almost unstoppable, even from his current stake. His industy will quickly replace all his losses. He is likely to become a juggernaught unless dealt with. NOW is that opportunity! The combined Spartan and Morgan forces should be able to destroy the Hive, or at least keep him destabilized. To show my earnestness I am willing to contribute 500 of my energy to your cause."

"That is very generous, CEO Morgan. I accept the energy, but understand that the Spartan declaration of war will be in the form of ultimatum. If Yang accepts, then he will be significantly reduced in power and unlikely to be an overwhelming threat anytime soon. If he rejects, then he faces our combined forces.

My ultimatum to Chairman Sheng-Ji Yang is as follows:

By 9.00 midnight tonight you will have withdrawn your forces from all four bases that have declared for Morgan; you will have evacuated your forces from the old Believer bases of The Leaders Horde and Great Clustering, and will have ceded them to The Spartan Federation; you will have ceased all work on building further PlanetBuster missiles and you will submit to regular inspection by Peacekeeping forces provided by Commissioner Pravin Lal; You will remove your forces from the landmass north of the area known as The Pholus Ridge and will have transferred 1,000 credits to Lady Deirdre Skye as reparations for the damages caused to her and her people by The Human Hive.

Is that acceptable?"

Morgan was stunned by the audacity of the ultimatum. Of course Yang would never accept. Even if he did then Morganite interests would be more than preserved.

"Yes, I accept. I will arrange the transfer immediately."

"I will have Field Marshal Burge contact your General Staff to arrange military details. Santiago out."

Santiago winked out of existence.

Morgan radiated exhausted joy. The last several days had gone from stunning victory to the prospect of a dreadful war all alone against an implacable foe, to almost assured victory again. His throw of the dice had not come up snake eyes after all.

Even so, Morgan could not help but feel set up. The ultimatum had clearly been prepared ahead of time. But under the circumstances CEO Nwabudike Morgan, Senior just didn't care.

*****

Santiago/Alexis terminated the holo projection. Gavin/Ashaandi stepped into view.

"Your 'Santiago' was much better this time. Remember that she is always supremely confident, even arrogant. Just remember the lessons I taught you."

"For what you are paying me, I'll learn anything," Santiago/Alexis replied.

Her voice was cool and forceful - a dead ringer for Santiago.

Googlie · September 28, 1999, 11:17

Kendra Ossenton walked down the corridor of the research hospital towards the military wing where Allardyce was undergoing the rejuvenation treatment.

Normally citizens would be treated in an adjunct to the recycling tanks, but for a VIP nothing but the best would do.

She passed a drone in the maintenance detachment of the hospital ‘doing whatever they do to keep the environment sterile’ thought Kendra as she nodded to the woman.

“Evening Doctor,” the drone said, “you’re up late.”

“Yes,” she replied. “It’s reaching the crucial stage where we have to check every four hours or so.”

The drone nodded, not understanding at all.

Kendra reached the room and entered, being careful not to adjust any lighting. The room glowed with a soft dark blue light, of a wavelength to stimulate the growth, but which cast shadows all around. There were four tanks, and a couple of cots, but Kendra went unerringly to that of Allardyce.

He was lying peacefully submerged, with the breathing tube rising above the surface of the gel like a kind of schnorkel. The steady beat of the electrics, sending a pulse wave every two seconds was almost hypnotic. The pulsewave agitated the gel just sufficiently so that the nutrients didn’t congregate in any particular spot causing abnormal growth patterns. The oxygenator hummed in the background at a higher pitch, supplying oxygen to the tank, which was closed to prevent the slightest outside contamination.

Kendra opened the lid and looked in.

Swiftly she yanked the breathtube from his mouth and pressed down hard with her hands on his head, holding him under for a full three minutes. He had been sleeping peacefully and didn’t struggle in the slightest.

Satisfied, she replaced the tube and then dropped a gilt cuff button into the gel. Softly she closed the tank, and exited.

She passed the drone still at her duties.

“Sleeping peacefully,” she said. “Only a couple of more days.”

The drone nodded, engrossed in her work.

Kendra exited the hospital and looked around. No one about.

She pulled out her commlink and dialed a secure number.

“The spinner has been taken out of the game” she said.

She snapped the commlink shut, and relaxed, letting the internal program run. Slowly she morphed into her usual state, and she walked home.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++

Half a continent away Cartier snapped his commlink shut, and looked round his few associates in satisfaction.

“Googlie has been eliminated.”

They heaved a sigh of relief.

“Jacques,” said one, "any more pacifists left?”

“Not that we know of,” he replied. “Maybe St James, although he’s dropped out of sight for a few weeks. We traced him to Morgan territory, then he went off the map.”

“What do we tell the big guy?”

Jacques Cartier paused to think.

“He doesn’t like hearing details of special ops work. Just report that a tragic accident befell Allardyce in the rejuvenation tanks, and that he died.”

His accomplice went off to report to Commissioner Lal.

[This message has been edited by Googlie (edited September 28, 1999).]

Googlie · September 28, 1999, 13:22

The drone put down her broom and followed Kendra at a short distance.

As she walked, she fitted the prosthesis over her eye and activated the small pack in her pocket.

She watched from the hallway as Kendra flipped open the commlink and dialed the secure number.

She zoomed the infrared focus of her implant and read and recorded the number, and then lip read and mentally stored the message that was reported. Then she removed the optical prosthesis and took out her shredder.

Moving quietly along the shadow of the building she waited and watched in her usual wonder as the chameleon assassin morphed into her own form.

“Freeze” she said.

The Assassin whirled round, drawing a small fleschette pistol as she turned.

The drone fired at the arm, neatly severing it at the elbow, and pointed the shredder at the right leg.

“Don’t make another move or you’ll lose the leg as well.

The assassin growled an unintelligible reply and stood her ground.

The drone reached into her vest pocket and drew out a tightly balled net, and with a flick threw it over the assassin. The synthsteel fibres expanded to shroud her body, then tightened so that she was trussed and unable to move.

The drone went over and slapped a medpck on the severed arm, then flipped open her own commlink and said “Reel in the fish.”

Tipping her over so that she fell and was immobile, the drone said:

“The mop up team will be here in a few minutes. Be good.”

She turned and went back into the building.

After she had gone the assassin concentrated and activated her secondary program.

When the mop up team arrived they found Paula Forbes lying on the ground, one arm severed at the elbow, and furious.

After profuse apologies, they cut her loose, and she went on her way muttering about suing the Hospital.

She turned a corner, and pulled out her commlink, dialling up a number.

“Compromised. Scramble” was all she said.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

In the Peacekeeper special operations bunker Jacques got the message.

He looked over to one of the young operatives.

“Delink” he said brusquely.

The young operatives fingers flew over the keyboard, removing the link to their HQ and setting up a blind that led directly into The Hive..

He sat back in satisfaction.

“They’ll definitely think Yang’s behind this, with Angel’s button and now this trace. They’ll never accept his compliance with the ultimatum even if he offers it.”

Jacques grinned.

“Well, we do need their little war to continue, don’t we. That is what Pravin said, as I recall.”

He felt good about the evening’s work.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The drone went back down the corridor to the VIP treatment room, and entered. She switched on the daylights.

Googlie emerged from the shadows, blinking in the glare, walking stiffly.

“Did you get her?” he asked.

“Trussed like a turkey,” she replied. “And I got the commlink number.”

Googlie sat gingerly on one of the cots.

“Great – we can trace the origin then.

“Fabulous work Anastasia. I’m glad you’re on our side now.”

She blushed. Praise from a legend she’d worshipped from afar was praise indeed. The father figure she'd never had. She'd been envious of her sister Ayola's frequent contact with him as Santiago's aide. But now her discomfiture was heightened as she realized she was looking at the face of a young, virile, thirty year old man who was stark naked.

[This message has been edited by Googlie (edited September 28, 1999).]

Hydro · September 28, 1999, 14:09

Plex Anthill

*****

An old but trusty Spartan civilian air transport flew in low toward Plex Anthill. Its return flights were always much easier, and faster, than the flights to Assassin’s Redoubt with its hold full of wounded. As it started its approach if taced left to avoid some of the worst of the partially filled craters in the runway. It touched down hard and put on the fission-assisted reverse thrust, probably subjecting the plane’s occupants to over 2 gee.

The worst of the debris in the Delta Sector cargo bay had been removed, so at least it was now passable. Morgan teams were out in force ordering the hapless drones around. Progress was good, but you couldn’t tell due to the extent of the devastation. Already the stench of undiscovered dead bodies pervaded the outside air. It was worse, much worse, on the beach where the worse of the slaughter had occurred.

Taxing to a stop, a two-by-two meter cargo door opened and touched the ground, forming a serviceable ramp. Down the ramp walked a young woman of slight build and short blond hair. Her face was partially obscured by a breath mask. Reaching the tarmac she glanced around tentatively, as if wondering what to do.

Rao recognized Sarah Dawson from the holo that Helen Tobias had sent him. He approached Sarah directly and, getting near, ventured, “Captain Sarah Dawson?”

Sarah turned around, “Yes, Sir. I’m Sarah Dawson.”

“Captain, no ‘Sir’ is necessary since we have the same rank. You are welcome to address me as Captain Kosarau or Captain, but I would prefer it if you would simply call me Rao.” Rao extended his hand toward Sarah.

Sarah took his hand and shook it. Rao had a firm handshake, but not a crushing one like some ardent military lifers.

Sarah smiled, “Then Rao it is. Please, call me Sarah.”

“Sorry about your delay, Sarah. There were some wounded we simply had to get to Assassin’s Redoubt.”

“It was no problem. In many ways it was a blessing, since I got a brief tour of the Emerald Isle Tree Farm. That must be one of the wonders of Chiron! I only had half a day in the Redwoods, but it was wonderful. Just like a small vacation.”

“I know what you mean, Sarah. I have had many R&Rs up in the Ponderosas, and a couple in the Redwoods.”

The pair walked toward the cargo bay in silence as Sarah looked around in growing fascination. Her gaze lingered on a debris removal crew that were cutting up and carting away one of the many burned out and blasted Hive rovers that littered the landscape. When they got within 10 meters the demolition crew all backed away. A charred and bloated body fell out and ruptured at it hit the ground. The Morganite overseer rushed over to some ferrocrete debris and started throwing up. The former Hive workers simply put on protective gloves, picked up the pieces of the body, and dragged it aside. Then they resumed work.

Sarah gave out a strangled gasp.

Rao looked at her sympathetically. “It has been pretty nasty here for quite a while. Welcome to the dark side of war, Sarah. The sad thing is that after a while you get used to it.”

Sarah nodded absently, but couldn’t tear her gaze from the rover. Then she closed her eyes tightly and put her hands over her ears.

Rao stopped, concerned. “Sarah, are you all right?”

“Yes,” she said weakly. “Sometimes particularly strong emotions break through, especially when I am distracted. When one comes through it can be like a dike breaking. It took me a couple of seconds to screen them out. All of them. Out. I’ll be fine.”

Sarah opened her eyes again, but there was a slightly pained and pinched expression to them.

Changing the subject, Sarah turned to Rao. “Helen told me you needed help ‘processing’ some of the new Spartan citizens. She didn’t explain.”

“Just before the Hive assault we created a local defense force. In order to make them part of the Spartan Army I had to grant them citizenship. These new Spartans will be evacuated with everyone else. I promised them that, and they deserve it, probably more than some naturally born Spartans. However, Helen is insisting that they be scanned as a security measure. I can’t say I blame her. I wouldn’t want 350 former Hive citizens without some assurances there aren’t some ringers in the bunch. Can you scan them?”

“I’m not sure what you mean by ‘scan.’ If you mean can I tell during an interview if they are lying, then the answer if yes. I can also tell, in most cases, if there are people operating under empathic control. Of course I can detect other empaths. Is that what you mean?”

“Yes, yes, exactly. The only catch is that we need to get them processed in about a day. The Morganite city administrator may give us more time, but I don’t want to push it. Can you do it?”

“350? I can try. That’s only 3 minutes a piece, for an 18 hour day at 60 minutes an hour.”

“Good. We’ll start right away. The Plex Brigade and some of their dependants can be ready immediately. The only problem is that there are some that are severely wounded. You’ll have to scan them, too.”

Sarah nodded. She thought to herself, 350! That is almost as many people as I have purposefully scanned in my entire life. I hope I’m up to it.

It’s going to be a tough day.

At least I won’t have to Mind Rip people, like Kirsten Alfredsson was going to have me do here before the base went Morgan. And I may have to work for her at Zanzibar.

God forbid!

Googlie · September 28, 1999, 16:22

I sat on the cot looking up at Anastasia, a beautiful young woman trying so hard not to look at me. I was suddenly very conscious of my nakedness, and reached over to pull a coverlet across my thighs.

“And thank you for saving my life,” I said.

“Oh, it was nothing,” she said. “Anyone would have done the same.”

“Not true,” I replied. “it took real guts to go to Dr. Ossenton. You had to divulge how you knew the attempt was being planned and that necessitated you blowing your cover as a Yoop resistance leader.”

“But you already knew,” she replied.

“But I told no-one – didn’t even enter it into the datafiles. It was the least I could do to protect you after your sister’s horrible death at the hands of our so called ‘Inquisition’. I didn’t want that to happen to you.”

Tears came into her eyes, whether tears of gratitude for my withholding details of her affiliation from the files, or in remembrance of her sister I didn’t know. The latter, I suspected.

“So how did you find out their plans?” I asked.

“Well, without giving too many trade secrets away, we monitor all commlink traffic in and out of Sparta Command..”

“You can do that,” I interrupted. “I’m impressed.”

“Remember we’re talking about the cream of the old University research scientists. I shouldn’t say this but I will – we’ve only shared a fraction of our knowledge with your Spartan researchers.. True, all of our major breakthroughs have been shared, but there are a slew of experimental projects and early prototypes that never came to much or hadn’t been fully thought through at the time of our takeover. In their spare time our scientists have continued working on them.

“Anyway, we intercepted a rather cryptic message yesterday, coming into Sparta Command. It said simply:

“Take the wrist out of the action.”

“We puzzled over that. Had we misheard. Was it the wrist, or the risk or even the rest that was to be taken out of the action? And what action?

“One of our older colleagues suddenly clued into it. A Lander, you probably know him. He deduced that it was a reference to your nickname of ‘Googlie’ and that it referred to the turning of the wrist in the action of bowling in cricket.”

“Sounds like Proctor,” I said. She nodded. “White South African. One of the descendents of one of their famous Proctor family in the last century.”

“Anyway,” she continued, “as soon as we deduced you were the target a vigorous debate ensued whether we should allow it to happen, or alert Dr. Ossenton.”

“And how did you vote?” I asked, with a twinkle in my eye.

“Oh, I said let them get on with it,” she replied playfully, responding to my impish mood. “Get rid of another old fart and let the government revert to younger people.”

“But you lost the vote?” I chided her.

“No, seriously,” she replied. “I wanted to alert Kendra, so I volunteered to carry the message to her, and realized that I would have to blow my cover to do so. But I was the best person, as you already knew of my attachment. So I said my goodbyes to my cell, and walked over to Dr. Ossenton’s office. She took some convincing at first, but realized that I wasn’t joking. She concocted the plan to wake you two days early, recognizing that these two days were the crucial difference between a thirty year old climbing out of the tank and a forty year old.

“So we woke you.”

Indeed they had.

I had been so woozy at first that I didn’t recognize either of them. But Kendra had found a recent cadaver that was put into the tank, and had the breathtube attached, and I slept in one of the cots as I normalized.

Anastasia had elected to play the drone, and she and Kendra had agreed on identifying signals in case a chameleon was used as had been the case with Marlo. She had kitted herself out with her accoutrements, and had played the role perfectly. I had been concerned at the physical danger she was putting herself into, but she assured me that this was nothing new to her. I acquiesced.

And she did look fetching in her gray drone smock. I told her so.

She blushed again, and looked away in embarrassment.

“What now,” I asked. “Have you given the number to our units?”

She nodded. “As soon as I could, I downloaded it to your special ops crew that were on standby.

“And as to the future, you know I can’t go back to the resistance. For better or worse, I’m yours now to do with as you see fit.”

It had been decades since I had received such an interesting offer.