The Spartan Chronicles - Continued

[Rynn]

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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

"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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

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]

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.